House Skyrim
"Dragons Are Mortal"
In the the year 288AC, a large fleet of over a thousand ships of all makes and sizes sailed through the Bay of Ice and settled in the region known as the Gift. Renaming it Hofkiin, they briefly fought a war with House Glover before Lord Stark came in to settle the peace. Their leader, Lady Elisif, brokered an agreement with Lord Stark for her people's ability to settle in part of the Gift. During this agreement, Lord Stark and his vassals learned of her people's past.
These new people were from a land called Skyrim. A land just as cruel, vicious, and terrible as the North was. In this land, magic and monsters existed as well as the monstrous nature of men. Even with all of these dangers, the worst was the systematic genocide of the men of Skyrim by the Thalmor armies. The armies of the Thalmor sought to recreate the Night of Tears against the race of man. Every human that the Thalmor could reach was executed. Men, women, and babies were slain. Any race aside from Altmer or Bosmer were chained into slavery. Plenty of people attempted to resist but many were quickly killed. Only their greatest warrior, the Dragonborn, was able to fight off the Thalmor long enough for the people of Skyrim to escape to the capital of Skyrim, Solitude.
The armies of the Thalmor gathered upon Solitude like a hounds upon a corpse. They attempted to storm the gates but were halted by the bravest company of men that existed led by Jarl Balgruuf the Valiant. Balgruuf led the defense of Solitude's ports until the ships protecting the refugees were too far from the Thalmor to stop. He died on the docks of Solitude, surrounded by the Thalmor justicars with a smile on his face. The Thalmor failed to slay all the men of Skyrim. Though Elisif and many people wished to Morrowind, the Dragonborn urged the fleet to sail away from Tamriel forever out of the reach of the Thalmor or the Empire. Many people were doubtful but they trusted the Dragonborn enough to heed his words. To brave the elements like their ancestors did until they landed in Westeros.
When Elisif had finished her tale, she knelt to the ground and bowed her head to Lord Eddard Stark, pleading for his permission for her people to live. Eddard, moved by her words and her passion for her people, agreed despite the distrust of many of his vassals. Elisif was granted a title and to be the first of her line. The former people of Skyrim will be subject to the King's laws and the judgement of House Stark as long as they lived within the region. Elisif accepted the offer and thus the first House of Skyrim was founded.
The region of Hofkiin soon became a land of bounty, much to the surprise of many surrounding lords. Strange new food that grew well in the icy soil poured out of the region. They also became the sole user of a wondrous black metal that was as hard as Valyrian steel. Potions and tonics of marvelous quality were also created that attracted the attention of many southern lords. The gold and wealth from the region rankled many of the lords in the North, envious of the newcomer's good fortune.
When the Greyjoy Rebellion erupted, House Skyrim answered the call of the Starks. They sent only five hundred soldiers. They were from all backgrounds. Men, women, bastards, and true-born, all were armed equally and dressed equally. They marched in unison and sang a guttural war song with each step to Pyke. The voices of five hundred soldiers thrummed over the army, sending shivers down the men of Westerosi. At its head was Hofkiin's greatest warrior, a man known as Askeladd. Clad in armor as black as night, carrying a mace adorned with nine blades, he marched with his men roaring in a language that made the air shake.
The army of Westerosi arrived at the beaches of Pyke. They were met with a hail of arrows and stones from Ironborn soldiers. Askeladd roared into the sky, knocking the arrows out of the sky. Every time Greyjoy arrows flew, Askeladd used his magic to knock them out of the sky. No Greyjoy arrow touched the armies of Stark and Baratheon. Seeing their arrows be of no use, the Greyjoys retreated back to the castle and braced the gates, hoping that they could prevent it from opening while the army of Westeros eagerly charged to the castle.
Lord Stark ordered the battering ram to be brought to the gates. However the soldiers of Hofkiin were in the way. They stood in front of the gate and began to chant while their leader stood in front of the gate. They bashed their shields, stomped their feet, and roared the same word over and over, building themselves into a frenzy.
"DOVAHKIN! DOVAHKIN! DOVAHKIN!"
Lord Stark, King Baratheon, and their men watched confused as to what the soldiers of Hofkiin were waiting for. They watched as Askeladd raised his head up high. He raised his fist high and his men immediately became quiet. For a long moment, no sound was heard aside from the waves crashing against the rocks of Pyke. Then he roared three words.
"FUS RO DAH!"
The island shook at the three words. The gates of Pyke blew open, crushing the men behind it. Knights fell from their horses as their mounts panicked at the words. Men shivered and cringed in fear as the words shook their very souls. The only ones unaffected were the soldiers of Hofkiin. When the gates blew open, they charged in killing anyone that opposed. The rest of the army shook out of their stupor and charged in after them. The battle was quickly over. Balon's two sons were slain in the battle and Balon threw the crown down, signifying his surrender.
House Skyrim distinguished itself as one of the most powerful houses in the North. Their power in war is undeniable but their ability to produce goods unlike any seen in Westeros have quickly made them one of the most prosperous houses in the North. Of all the gifts House Skyrim possesses, the greatest is their champion, Askeladd the Dragonborn. There is no doubt that his presence is akin to the dragons of old. As long as he is alive, House Skyrim is undeniably a house to be feared.
"A message for you my Jarl. It is from Askeladd."
"Thank you Falk," Elisif said. She opened the letter and began to read of the warrior's tiding during his time in Winterfell. Lord Stark requested his presence because King Robert was coming North to visit Winterfell for the first time since the Greyjoy Rebellion. In addition to the king, the royal family was also coming to visit. Lord Stark wanted Winterfell as secure as possible for when the king arrives. Jarl Elisif agreed to Lord Stark's request and sent Askeladd along with a small group of twenty. They were under orders to remain with Lord Stark until such a time when Lord Stark's dismissed them. In return, her son was allowed to stay in Winterfell as ward of House Stark until he becomes ready to lead the people of Hofkiin.
Falk waited patiently for Elisif to read the letter. His concern grew when Elisif's eyes narrowed. After several minutes, she put the letter down and let out a noticeable sigh. She turned to Falk, worry and sadness clear on her face.
"Bad news, my Jarl?"
Elisif nodded. "The king arrived in Winterfell as expected. There were no attacks or illness during the journey, thank the Divines."
"However?" Falk prompted.
"Bran, the second son of Lord Stark, fell from a tower."
"Bran?!"
Falk and Elisif turned to see a small girl entering the room. Elisif's eyes softened when she saw the expression on the face of her child's face.
"Tyra."
"Is it true mother?" Tyra asked, tears gathering in her eyes. "Is Bran hurt?"
Elisif gathered her child in her arms and cradled her child.
"Yes, I am sorry Tyra. Bran fell from a tower. He is greatly hurt but will live. However his legs will never be the same. He will walk but never run or climb as he once did," Elisif whispered as she gently rocked her child. She could hear soft sobs coming from her child as Tyra cried for Bran. Elisif felt her heart break. Her children, Tyra and Hakon, were very close friends of Bran when she visited Winterfell. To hear that her friend may never play as they once did broke her child's heart.
"Mother?" Tyra asked in a soft voice.
"Yes, my daughter?"
"May I go to Winterfell soon?" Tyra pleaded.
Elisif nodded and held Tyra. "When the King leaves Winterfell, we shall visit Winterfell and offer our condolences. I will bring our best healer as well to help Bran. Now, go child. I will be with you shortly."
"Yes mother."
Elisif watched her child leave, no doubt to head for the Temple of the Divines to pray for Bran.
"She will be a wonderful leader one day, my Jarl," Falk whispered.
Elisif nodded, wiping a tear from her eyes. "Better than I, no doubt."
She straightened her back and turned to Falk. "Before I go, we must prepare in case House Stark goes to war."
"My Jarl?" Falk asked, completely stunned. "I understand Bran's accident-."
"It was no accident. Someone deliberately tried to kill Bran."
"Akatosh preserve us," Falk whispered as he realized the implication.
"Lord Stark will no doubt go to war over the attempted murder of his child. Lady Catelyn will rally the Tullys as well," Elisif said. "The other great houses of Westeros will not take kindly to the Starks and Tullys mustering their armies. It could become a war even greater than any war we've ever been in."
"What shall we do?"
"I shall send envoys to the other lords in the North. In the meantime, prepare out people. Alert Vilkas and Tolfdir to prepare for war."
"I will my Jarl."
"That will be all, Falk."
Falk bowed to Elisif before exiting the throne room, leaving Elisif alone with her guards. She pulled out a necklace with amulets of all the Nine Divines and began to pray to the gods, hoping that there will be a chance that the land will not be embroiled in another war.
"Hmph, a cripple. Would have been a greater mercy if he'd been killed."
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
Tyrion, the Imp of the Lannisters, stared in shock as a boy tackled his nephew and began to beat him with his fists. Joffrey tried to struggle but the pure fury from the child overwhelmed him. The child stopped beating Joffrey with his fists and began to slam his forehead into Joffrey's face, breaking the prince's nose. Sandor Clegane reached for his sword but a strong hand grasped his shoulder. He was thrown into the ground while another figure stepped over him and pulled the berserk child off of Joffrey. Tyrion stared at the child who writhed like a possessed man with blood dripping from his fists. Tyrion raised an eyebrow when he noticed that the child's knuckles were torn to shreds from how hard he struck Joffrey.
"Calm down, Hakon! He's had enough!" the child's caretaker said.
"No he hasn't! I'll KILL HIM!," the child roared. Tyrion was shocked at the pure hate coming from the child's voice.
"ENOUGH HAKON!" the man bellowed. The man's voice shook Hakon out of his fury. The boy calmed down and he stared at his blood-soaked hands in shock. Tears of shame began to pour out of his eyes and he turned to his caretaker in sorrow.
"I did it again, didn't I?" Hakon whispered.
"You did young master. Now go to Celestine to be healed. I shall deal with this."
Hakon nodded. He took one last glance of shame at the crying prince before running towards the castle. The man sighed and turned to Tyrion, bowing his head in apology.
"I'm sorry for that my lord. Hakon is a good child but suffers from a condition known as the Bloodwrath. He loves Bran as if he was his own brother. Bran's fall has caused him much sadness."
Tyrion waved away his apology. "Do not worry Askeladd. My nephew said horrible things. I would have struck him myself if little Hakon did not do so first."
The dwarf turned to Clegane who was staring down at Joffrey with muted disdain. "Hound, help Joffrey to the maester."
Sandor nodded and helped Joffrey to his feet. Even now, the prince was whimpering over the beating the small child gave him. Tyrion turned to Askeladd with a wide smile on his face, holding out his hand to the knight.
"I haven't officially introduced myself. Tyrion Lannister, the Imp of the Lannisters at your service."
Askeladd smiled and grasped the dwarf's hand. "Well-known from sea to sea as a well known connoisseur of women and wine."
"Heard of me have you?" Tyrion said. "I've heard of you as well. The great Champion of Hofkiin. Hammer of the North. Krakensbane. The stories I've heard of you are great of many but I'm curious of the man himself."
Askeladd smiled. The dwarf's carefree manner amused him. "Let's talk over bread and ale. I'm quite fond of the salted pork the cooks serve."
"Quite right, quite right. Come!"
Askeladd followed the dwarf into Winterfell's halls. He had heard of the dwarf's exploits and could see the disdain his sister had of him. Yet even though the world was cruel to him, the man still walked with a jaunt in his step and a smile on his face. Askeladd respected Tyrion for that, even more than his "honorable" siblings.
"Who was the boy?" Tyrion asked.
"Hakon, son of Elisif. He is her firstborn son," Askeladd replied.
"Hm. Here no doubt as a ward for the Starks," Tyrion mused. "He seems like a sweet boy."
Askeladd smiled. "He is a gentle boy, much like his mother and sister. He suffers from the Bloodwrath though."
"Bloodwrath? I've never heard of it."
"A condition that many warriors of my kind suffer. When provoked they will kill any enemy in their path, ignoring any injury until every enemy within their reach is dead. They call it the Bloodwrath since those that suffer it only see red."
"Interesting," Tyrion muttered. "I've heard of cases like that. How do you know its truly the Bloodwrath though and not childish fury?"
The warrior chuckled. "When Hakon snapped a dog's jaw apart."
"A story that must be heard," Tyrion said.
The pair sat down at a table and servants immediately gave them plates of food for the pair to feast on. Tyrion began to eat while Askeladd recounted the story for Tyrion to hear.
"Hakon and his twin sister, Tyra, were hiding from the guards as they snuck around the village surrounding Strundu'ul. It was a game the pair played, seeing how long they could hide from the guards. This time they hid near a forest where many of the hunters stayed. The hunters had dogs they kept in kennels. One though became rabid and was chained to a post. At the sight of the two children, the dog strained at its chain. The chain snapped and it charged the two children. The dog attack Tyra and its claws drew blood from her cheek. The sight of his sister's blood enraged Hakon. He grabbed a stone and struck the dog's eye. The dog reeled back and snapped at Hakon, ravaging the boy's arm. The boy ignored his wounds and grasped the dog's jaws. He gave a beastly roar and with an earsplitting crack, he snapped the dog's jaw apart. By then the hunters staying in the lounge rushed to help Tyra and Hakon. Hakon did not see the hunters and continued to beat on the dying dog with a stone. He was pulled off and immediately sent to our healers. From that day however, even grown men were wary of Hakon's fury. Your prince was not the first lordling to be subjected to Hakon's rage.
"Quite a tale," Tyrion muttered. "He will be a warrior to be feared, if his wrath does not kill him."
"It is my greatest fear," Askeladd replied sadly. "Warriors suffering the Bloodwrath often die young."
"If I was his father, I wouldn't worry," Tyrion said gently. "He has the greatest warrior in all the North guiding him."
"High praise from you, concerning your brother," Askeladd replied.
There was a few moments of silence as Tyrion gathered his thoughts.
"I've been meaning to ask you. What is that armor you are wearing?"
"This is dragonbone from a dragon that I've slain. His name was Sosbahven. A dragon more than eighty feet long, proud and arrogant. I taunted him to face me on the ground, then broke his wings. A grounded dragon is a dead dragon. All of his grace and skill is gone, left to crawl like an enormous snake. Yet its thick hide and plates cannot be pierced except with the sharpest of blades. Though his hide is thick, a dragon has weak bones that can be shattered if you strike well. Between the eyes, a dragon's skull is weakest. I struck again and again, crushing its skull until the dragon lied dead."
"If a dragon's bones are weak, why do you wear it for armor?" Tyrion asked.
"When treated and forged correctly, a dragonbone is harder than steel. It requires the strength of an ox, patience of a maester, and fire so hot that it becomes blue," Askeladd explained. "I learned from the best smith, Eorlund Greymane, the secret to forging dragonbone. It is a secret that many people wish to know since a full set of dragonbone plate costs as much as a castle."
Before Tyrion could get a word in, Lord Stark came barreling into the hall. He looked around wildly and spotted Askeladd sitting at the table with Tyrion. He ran up to Askeladd with a panicked expression on his face.
"Askeladd, what happened? The Queen Cersei and the Prince Joffrey are demanding Hakon's head," Eddard asked. "Your men have been protecting him from the queen's guards. They are holed up in the chapel."
Askeladd rushed away, closely followed by Tyrion and Eddard. Askeladd could hear bellowing coming from the chapel.
"Come you cowards! Let Valfar grant you passage to Sovngarde!"
Askeladd groaned as he recognized that voice. He entered the room to see nine of his soldiers in a protective ring around Hakon. One of his men, a bearlike man dressed in pelts and skulls stood in front, stood in front taunting the Lannister soldiers around them. The Queen and her son were shouting at the men to arrest Hakon while the King was eying the Hofkiin soldiers with amusement.
"What are you waiting for? Arrest them!" the queen screamed.
"Take one step and I'll see if you Lannister men shit and bleed gold!" the bearlike warrior roared.
"Hah! I like him," King Robert called out.
"Robert!" Eddard called out. "Stop this madness."
"Ned, here to join us at last," Robert happily replied. "Perhaps you can make sense of this madness. Men, stand down!"
The king's soldiers backed away at the command. The soldiers of Hofkiin did not relax though. Their leader spat at the men before turning to Askeladd. His gnarled face split into a smile.
"Askeladd, good for you to join us! Come, there's plenty of men to kill between the both of us," the man called out.
"Enough Valfar. This doesn't have to end in bloodshed," Askeladd said calmly. Valfar's face fell.
"Not one?" he pleaded. "Can't I maim one?"
Robert began to laugh. "Now that's a man I can agree with. Let's get this mess sorted out."
Eddard lead everyone within the chapel into Winterfell's throne room. Robert sat in the chair and gestured for Hakon to step forward. The boy was obviously nervous but he stood tall and proud, staring boldly into the eyes of the king. The king nodded in approval at the boy.
"Speak your name, boy."
"Hakon, son of Lady Elisif of House Skyrim."
"House Skyrim eh? Explains why Askeladd's here," Robert muttered. "What happened?"
"I heard Joffrey bragging to Lord Tyrion about how Bran should have died. How it would have been better for Bran to die rather than being crippled. At least being a cripple, he can still sing and laugh with us! He's my best friend and your son said he should die!" Hakon ranted. "So I beat him until my fists bled."
"See he admitted it!" the queen screamed out. "The punishment spilling royal blood is death!"
"Hmph and he was beaten by a boy more than five years younger than he was," Robert snorted in disdain. "Fine firstborn my son turned out to be. Even a child was able to beat you until your face was black and blue. Gods you're pathetic."
Robert whirled to his son. His face was covered in poultices and bandages, leaving only his mouth and left eye uncovered. None of the bandages could hide the humiliation radiating off the boy. Cersei's face twisted in anger at Robert's words.
"He should be executed!" Cersei demanded.
"Over our dead bodies!" Valfar roared. "MEN! TO ARMS!"
"HOLD!" Askeladd bellowed out. The Hofkiin soldiers lowered their weapons. Valfar let out a frustrated snarl at Askeladd.
"Let us rip their arms off and beat them to death with it!" Valfar snarled.
Robert gave a chuckle at the barbarian's statement.
Askeladd sent Valfar an annoyed glance before facing Robert.
"Your grace, Hakon is just a boy. He is unaware of his actions and his love for his friend. Must a boy be slain because another taunted his friend's misfortune. What would you have if someone insulted Lyanna's honor?"
Robert's face twisted at the thought. He let out a growl but nodded in agreement.
"I admit, I would have done the same. Defending one's honor is not a deed to be punished for. I've gone to war and lost my greatest love for it," Robert whispered. He held his head up and looked at Askeladd and Hakon.
"Boy, you are pardoned this once," Robert said. "Next time, remember who you are fighting against before you raise your swords."
Hakon nodded and bowed. "Thank you, your grace."
Robert chuckled. "You'll be a fine warrior. I'll look forward to when you're fully grown."
"You seriously cannot be allowing this boy off without punishment!" Cersei demanded. "Your own son was hurt."
"Exactly! He's a boy and his reasons were honorable. A trait that you damned lions forget in you gilded fucking halls!" Robert bellowed. "I would have done the same fucking thing. Now this is over!"
Cersei stomped out of the hall with her son trotting at her heels. A portion of the soldiers followed Cersei while the rest remained with Robert. Askeladd lead Hakon to the his soldiers. As they walked, Hakon stared up to Askeladd.
"I'm sorry Askeladd."
Askeladd gave the boy a reassuring smile. "There is nothing to forgive little lord. However from now on, you have to stay close to a guard. Understand?"
"Yes sir."
"Good boy. Jordis!"
A woman stepped forward. She smiled at Askeladd before thumping her chest. "Yes my thane?"
"Have a soldier watch him every hour of the day. Never leave him alone. I don't trust the queen or prince not to send someone to attack Hakon."
"As you command. Come now Hakon. Let's go see if Arya is around."
"Okay."
Jordis left the hall with Hakon at her side. The other soldiers turned to Askeladd, waiting for his orders.
"The rest of you are dismissed. Except Valfar, I want a word with you."
Valfar walked up to Askeladd with a frown on his face.
"Something wrong?"
Askeladd sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I know this will be difficult but we need to be more diplomatic. No more yelling at the top of your lungs about killing someone every five minutes. We need to be more courteous."
Valfar let out a series of curses. "As you wish. I will try to be more diplomatic."
The man stomped off, no doubt searching for something to kill. Askeladd turned away from the man to face Eddard. Eddard gave Askeladd a loaded look. Askeladd sighed and held his hands high.
"I'll make sure my soldiers are under control, Lord Stark," Askeladd reassured him. "Especially Valfar. You have my word."
Eddard sighed. "I appreciate your people's assistance. I know our initial promise was your services until the King leaves Winterfell. However, I am asking for you and your men to accompany me to the capital for a period of time as I become settled as Hand of the King. Hakon as well."
Askeladd frowned. "This goes much further than our initial agreement, my lord. Your request takes me very far from Lady Elisif. How long are we talking about?"
"Until the wedding between Joffrey and Sansa."
"The little milk-drinker?" Askeladd asked astonished. "This will end badly."
"Sansa may be able to-."
"No, she won't. Arya would but we both know that Sansa doesn't have the strength or the will to curb Joffrey's wrath," Askeladd hissed.
"That's why I need you with me. You can watch over Sansa and Joffrey. No one would stop you. Even the Queen's family fear your wrath too much to provoke you," Eddard pleaded.
Askeladd let out a huge sigh. "If I do this, you must promise that your son Bran will marry Tyra when she becomes of age."
"Done," Eddard agreed without hesitation.
"I'll tell my men about the new plans. Be prepared to hear Valfar raise a ruckus. He will be in a foul mood for this."
"He wasn't before?" Eddard asked. Askeladd laughed.
"That was his happy face."
Far from Westeros, across the Narrow Seas, a hoard numbering thousands upon thousands of people slowly traversed the plains of Essos. A wind gently blew across the plains causing the tall grass to sway like waves of the ocean. Yet even with this serene atmosphere, it could not hide the pain and suffering of the slaves being cruelly marched by their Dothraki masters. The crack of the whip and the scream of pain could be heard every few seconds as the Dothraki travelled to their only city, Vaes Dothrak. A young woman with silver hair blowing in the wind watched the scene with sadness, silently reaching out to the wretched slaves. She wished she could do something to ease their pain but she was unable to.
"Khaleesi, is there something on your mind?"
Daenerys Targaryan turned to face her aid, Jorah Mormont. The former knight was peering at her face with concern, worry clear on his face. Daenerys shook her head, giving him a small smile.
"Its nothing Jorah."
"As you wish khaleesi."
Daenerys urged her horse forwards. The horse gave a small neigh and moved forwards with the horde. Jorah followed her a few feet away, quietly waiting for any command.
"Jorah?"
"Yes khaleesi?"
"Do you know of any great warriors of Westeros?"
Jorah nodded. "Aye I do. Far in the north, there is a man known as Askeladd. A man they call, the Dragonborn."
"Dragonborn?" Daenerys asked. "Is he a Targaryan?"
"No khaleesi. He and his kind arrived in Westeros from a country across the Sunset Sea. They were the only survivors of a terrible war that ripped their country apart," Jorah answered. "Lord Stark allowed them sanctuary if their lord swore fealty to House Stark."
"Why is he called Dragonborn?" Daenerys asked.
Jorah grinned. "I asked the men of Hofkiin that as well. Askeladd is the greatest hero their land has ever seen. No man or monster is able to stand against him. He is able to cave in an armored man's chest with a single swing of his mace, they said. However his greatest gift is his ability to use magic unheard of."
"Magic?" Daenerys scoffed. "There is no such thing."
"I believed that too until the day the armies of Stark and Baratheon stormed the island of Pyke," Jorah said gravely. His eyes fogged as he recounted that very day when he witnessed Askeladd in battle.
"With a single phrase, he burst open the gates of Castle Pyke. His men swarmed into the castle as he strode in. He wreathed himself in a cloak of fire and began to slaughter anyone close to him. Those lucky enough were immediately crushed by his mace. The unlucky ones were burned to death simply by being too close to him. I was close to him when I saw a large group of Ironborn archers raise their bows at Askeladd. They loosed their arrows at him but Askeladd spat a gout of fire so hot that the men's bones were encased in molten steel. The poor bastards didn't even have time to scream before their flesh were melted off their bones."
"He sounds like a dragon," Daenerys noted. "As close to a dragon any man could be."
"Aye," Jorah agreed. "He is."
"Jorah?"
"Yes khaleesi?"
"How many men will be needed to take him down?" Daenerys asked.
Jorah remained quiet for a long moment before speaking. His answer chilled Daenery's spine.
"Every men that we have."
"Your wrists is too stiff and weak milord. You will also need a shield as well."
"I do not need a shield."
"Are you certain?"
"A shield slows me down. With two hands, I can swing my sword faster and with more control."
Jordis blocked the sword with her shield. She then pushed hard with her shield, locking Robb's sword against it. Robb stumbled back but could not escape the follow up shield bash. Robb slipped onto the ground and froze as a sword was pointed at his throat.
"Aye, a shield does slow a warrior down. However a shield offers greater protection as your opponent is worn down. It is also a weapon that can clobber a man, even a knight," Jordis instructed.
"I'll remember that," Robb said.
"We'll see," Jordis said.
Robb picked up his sword once more and charged at Jordis. From the balcony, Hakon and Arya watched the pair spar. Hakon's guard, a man named Hofgi, kept a lazy eye on them from his seat. Arya paid close attention as she had never seen a woman fight like a knight. To see women fight just like men did was like a dream come true for Arya. The pair were so engrossed in the fight that they never heard a person approaching them.
"Is that a woman fighting Robb?"
Arya and Hakon looked around to see Sansa staring down with disdain at the woman.
"It is Sansa! Her name's Jordis!" Arya said excitedly. "She's amazing."
"Real ladies don't fight," Sansa replied. "Ladies are supposed to sew and manage the household."
"Why not?" Hakon asked. "Vilkas always said that anyone who can hold a sword should learn how to use one."
"It's not right," Sansa snapped. "You're just a stupid little boy from some strange country."
Hakon's reeled back stung by the harsh words. Arya glared at her sister.
"Leave him alone Sansa! He didn't do anything."
"Haven't you heard what he's done?" Sansa replied. "He hurt the prince!"
"He deserved it!" Hakon said.
"Would you lot just shut up?"
The children turned to see Hofgi giving all of them an annoyed glare.
"You three are ruining my mood. Especially you, Lady Sansa. Yes, our women fight so they won't be helpless. They also manage the household. Hakon, the prince did deserve it. That's why you are constantly guarded to prevent it from ever happening again. Now is there any other questions for me to answer?"
"WHO THE HELL PISSED IN MY MEAD?!"
Hofgi palmed his face in exasperation. "Damnit Valfar."
"Who are you?" Sansa asked.
"Hofgi the Lazy," Hofgi drawled out. "By the way, you dropped this."
Hofgi held out a small gold necklace. Sansa gasped and patted around her neck. She snatched the necklace and trounced off without saying another word. Arya's eyes widened as Hofgi leaned back with a satisfied smirk on his face.
"You stole her necklace!" Arya stated. "How did you do that?"
"Easy. Light fingers can do plenty of magic tricks," Hofgi explained. "I swiped it when she was peering over the balcony. It was such a pretty little thing. I couldn't resist."
Arya gaped before glaring at Hakon.
"What did I do?" Hakon asked.
"You're so lucky. I wish I had interesting people like that."
Before he could say another word, Arya ran off. Hakon gaped in confusion and then turned to an amused Hofgi.
"What did I do?"
Hofgi chuckled. "A question that many a man has asked. Don't worry little lord. Even the gods are easier to understand than women."
Hakon just gave Hofgi a confused glance before slumping against the balcony rails.
"I'm so confused."
Hofgi let out a bark of laughter. "Every man understands. Every man."
A week passed and the King's convoy was ready to travel back to Kingslanding with the new Hand of the King. Robert sat atop his horse with his best friend next to him. Stark soldiers marched along the King's own soldiers with Hofkiin soldiers as the vanguard. None of the Hofkiin soldiers had mounts, preferring to march with their own two feet. The only one with a mount was their leader.
The men-at-arms shivered as Askeladd's nightmarish mount stared at them with blood-red eyes. Its massive size dwarfed even the king's own stallion. Standing over eighteen hands high, it towered even over the purebred stallions the lords possessed. Robert eyed the horse in interest as the horse seemingly stared back at him.
"Quite a horse. I thought you Hofkiin folks despised horses," Robert said.
"We do," Askeladd clarified. "But Shadowmere is no ordinary stallion. He doesn't shy from fire or steel, much like most horses."
Shadowmere neighed in agreement. Robert shrugged and then turned to Eddard.
"Well, we ain't getting much younger. Let's get moving."
At the king's command, the convoy began to slowly move. The wheels of carts and carriages creaked as sounds of hooves filled the air. As the horse under him settled into a sedate pace, Eddard's mind drifted to the conversation he had with Askeladd in the crypts of Winterfell.
Flashback
"Kingslanding is a nest of snakes waiting to devour the next unsuspecting person that falls into it," Askeladd whispered. "You cannot accept this."
"For the last time, it is my duty," Eddard replied stubbornly. "Robert is my friend but foremost the King. He will need my help in the coming days."
Askeladd groaned. "Eddard, your honor is undeniable. A trait that I fear most people have forgotten in the warm southern land."
"I will remind them of that," Eddard replied confidently.
"I have no doubt," Askeladd said. "But there will be a day when the honor will cost you everything you hold dear. On that day, remember this. Does honor justify the dead?"
Before Eddard could answer, Askeladd left the crypt. Eddard stood still for the longest time, searching for an answer. All he could see though was the stony face of his sister's tomb.
End Flashback.
"Am I making the right choice?" Eddard asked, praying to the Old Gods for guidance.
He was not comforted when the trees around him were silent.
Hello all, long time no post. Anyways after watching and reading ahead, I was so depressed about the fate of House Stark that I could not write anymore. In addition to several events in my life, I could not find the inspiration or time to write. After an eventful two years, this is the first chapter I will post. It's rusty by my standard but I hope that my writing will get better as I write more.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
PEACE! Oso1991
