AN: Special thanks to Dark Vizard447 for suggesting this story! This chapter will be a lot shorter than most of my others are, but this will probably become a sort of drabble fic, where we jump from character to character, and see how they impact the world around them. For an update on my long absence, check out my profile.

AN 2: I shamelessly took the chapter labels from willywalkerstrikesagain's "Hear Me Roar: The Lannisters in the War of the Ring". Go check it out. One of (if not the) best GoT crossovers on this site.

The Soldier I

Benjen Stark had made the rank of First Ranger for little over a year when he found the shield. It was odd in all aspects, to say the least. Not only was it circular, a shape that Benjen had never seen used for shields before, there was also a sense of familiarity, a connection between him and the half-frozen object.

Now, Benjen, like all Starks, prided himself on being a sensible fellow. So when he encountered a clearly magical shield beyond the Wall, naturally he made to turn around and retreat with all due haste to Castle Black.

If he had, this story might have proceeded in a way most of us are already familiar with, bringing ruin to both Westeros and House Stark.

However, in this reality, the pull on Benjen's consciousness was too great for his natural curiosity to resist, and slowly, with his hand on the hilt of his sword, Benjen glanced back at the odd shield. Swallowing, he cautiously approached the magical object, the feeling of familiarity only growing stronger.

It was almost as if he himself had wrought this shield, with his own two hands, though the memory, if it was in fact a memory, felt ages old.

Having reached the weapon, and something-or someone, whispered in his mind that this was indeed a great weapon, no matter it's shape, Benjen gently nudged it with his booted feet.

After a few tense seconds, during which the silence was only broken by the howling of the wind through the dark trees of the forest, Benjen gave a relieved sigh, glad that the shield hadn't jumped up at him with sudden teeth and arms, or worse, that he had fallen under some sort of spell.

Releasing his white-knuckled grip on his sword, the First Ranger bend down and grasped the shield with both hands, trying to ignore the sense of recognition that grew immensely stronger when he touched the frozen metal.

With a grunt of effort, Benjen ripped the shield free from the ice that had covered it for ages past. Panting a little, the lone Stark examined the shield more closely, examining it for any flaws or damage. Trying to ignore the sense of relief that flooded him when he saw that the shield was undamaged- and why wouldn't it be? It was his greatest creation after all- Benjen noted that despite it's great size, it was incredibly light.

Making a decision that he hoped wasn't influenced by some sort of ancient fell magic, the First Ranger turned around, intent on carrying the shield into battle. After all, Benjen, like all Starks, was a sensible fellow, and there was no sense in leaving behind a fine weapon like this just for the Wildlings to find.

However, when he made to walk away, there was a sense of wrongness that overcame him. He felt like a thief in the night, despite the connection between him and the magical shield. It was as if he wasn't meant to carry it into battle; yes, Benjen was reasonably sure by now that House Stark had something to do with its creation (after all, was it not Bran the Builder, his ancestor who raised the massive Wall of Ice and Magic? Who said that was the only thing he had built?) it became clear to the Ranger that someone else was meant to wield it.

But who?

Turning back to the great block of ice that had trapped the magical shield for so long, Benjen let his experienced eyes roam across the frozen wastes, looking for… looking for… well, he wasn't quite sure what exactly he had been looking for, but he now felt that he couldn't leave before finding it.

There!

Abandoning all of the sensibleness that Starks prided themselves on, Benjen rushed forward to a patch of ice. Underneath it, faded blue and red were visible. And a white star sat in the middle of it.

"Godsdamnit Benjen." Lord Commander Mormont rumbled in his deep, growling voice, easily filling the small wooden room he and his First Ranger stood in.

He wasn't even all that angry at the Stark. He was a good man, and in this day and age, good men were hard to find.

In the Night's Watch they were impossible to find.

No, his current annoyance stemmed more from the fact that his First Ranger, the most capable and experience Brother of the Watch that he had, had somehow managed to fall for some wet-behind-the-ears, rookie mistake.

Picking up a clearly magical shield beyond the Wall, come on now!

Still, Lord Commander Jeor mused, as he glanced at the shield in question from underneath heavy, snow-white eyebrows, he didn't sense anything magical about the shield. Sure, his experienced eyes recognized quality when he saw it, and there was little doubt in his mind that his ranger's newest find could stand up to even Valyrian Steel.

But there was no connection between him and the damned thing, nothing like Benjen had described upon his return.

'Then again, the Starks of old were known to be more than a little adept in the fields of magic. This very wall was built by them after all.' The Lord of Bear Island mused, his gaze shifting from the shield to the man carrying it, who was now fidgeting in place under his Commander's heavy gaze.

"It's probably something your House has made, at one point or another." Jeor rumbled after a few seconds.

"As such, it's probably best to have it returned to your brother at Winterfell"

Benjen gave a relieved sigh, before nodding his thanks at the Commander. Jeor waved them away however, now focused on the true reason for his ire.

"Tell me, Stark. Why is there a dead man… on my dining table!?" he roared, his voice shaking some dust loose from the ancient rafters above.

Of course, at that moment, aforementioned dead man awoke with a gasp of pain.

Thus began a changed tale of Westeros, when Benjen Stark found beyond the wall, one of the legends from the Long Night. Steven Rogers, the last hero, had been returned to the realm of Man.

And he was very confused.

And cold.