A/N I don't own any of the Game of Thrones characters. However, the Netherwood family are my original characters. This is an AU fanfiction, but I'll take elements from the programme and books. The GoT characters are based on their TV representations.

Now that's out the way, I hope you enjoy the story!

Chapter One – Wrong Side of the Wall

"Oh no you don't." Robb Stark, heir to Winterfell, reached out an arm and snatched his little brother Bran by the sleeve, pulling him back into line.

"But I want to see them arrive!" he whined, fixing Robb with wide doe eyes that he hoped would invoke sympathy.

Robb merely smiled knowingly. "You can climb after they've arrived."

He returned his gaze forward, but soon found his eyes roving the scene before him. All the guards were lined up at the sides, their armour freshly polished. The standards were crisp and white, the Stark emblem of the direwolf fluttering languidly in the wind, the animal's jaws frozen in a perpetual howl. The breeze was light but bitingly cold, clawing at Robb's freshly shaven face. He shrugged his fur cloak further up his shoulders in an attempt to stifle the chill.

The Stark's were awaiting the arrival of Lord Alden Netherwood and his family. The Netherwood's had long been friends of the Stark's, but the current Lord was known to be more arrogant than his forebears. Lord Eddard Stark thought this to be the result of Alden successfully quashing an onslaught from the wildlings a few years previous. Alden had captured three wildling children who had displayed great skill in combat and claimed them as his own wards. It was said that they had grown up barely remembering their life beyond the Wall. Eddard didn't think this a suitable reason to justify arrogance, but he was forced to tolerate the Netherwood's.

"Here they come!" Arya announced as the sound of hooves drifted to greet them. She grinned nervously at her older sister Sansa, but found herself ignored.

The guards rode in first, leading the way for their lord, holding banners with the Netherwood emblem of a majestic oak. They arranged themselves suitably as more horses and a carriage followed. For once, however, it wasn't the carriage that attracted everyone's attention, but the three figures that rode ahead of it. Their clothing betrayed them not to be guards; they wore thick cloaks of rich, black cotton, hoods obscuring their faces. Even Lord Netherwood himself, who rode alongside them, attracted less attention. He smiled smugly as he approached, noticeably larger since the last time he'd visited the Stark's.

"Are they the wildlings?" Robb heard Arya whisper loudly to no one in particular. Yet he was wondering the exact same thing. He found that he was transfixed by the three tall figures. He could discern that two were female, the other male. If these were indeed the wildlings, they had to have reached their twentieth nameday by now, long enough for them to be fully integrated into life this side of the Wall. Hopefully long enough to ensure their loyalty.

Lord Netherwood dropped heavily from his horse and strode towards Eddard. "It's great to see you, Ned," he said before he addressed anyone else.

Eddard smiled courteously. "Likewise, Alden. It's been a long time."

"It has indeed." Alden moved onto greeting the other members of the Stark family, finishing by ruffling Rickon's hair, who simply looked bemused by the entire situation.

Yet Robb wasn't paying any attention to Alden. After the greeting, he had quickly found his gaze returning to the cloaked figures. They dismounted gracefully and Robb had to hide the shock he felt; he had half expected the figures to scramble from their steeds like savages.

A servant hurriedly opened the carriage door and Alden's wife stepped from the carriage. Her hair was long and a deep shade of auburn, immaculately styled. It was only now that Robb noticed Alden's eldest son dismounting his horse and offering his hand to his sister, who followed her mother from the carriage. The siblings had striking, sharp facial features, and something about then unnerved Robb.

"My wife, Lady Petulah, my eldest son, Caden, and my daughter, Isla." Alden promptly introduced his family with a flourish of his gloved hand. "And my wards."

The three cloaked figures stepped forward and, to Robb's surprise, he found his breath hitch. Simultaneously, they lifted their hoods from their faces. They were quite clearly siblings. Their hair was as black as the Haunted Forest at night. Their skin was as pale as the snow that fell at the Wall. Like the Netherwood siblings, their features were striking, with strong cheek bones and jaw lines. But there was something about their faces that was softer, more delicate, more youthful. Then there was their eyes: a piercing shade of emerald green. Their gaze was steady and confident and they fixed the Stark's with unwavering stares. But unlike Caden and Isla, Robb wasn't unnerved by their look. Instead, he was in intrigued.

"Sophia, Malachy and Leena." Alden gestured to each of his wards in turn. The first girl, Sophia, was tall and had her hair draped atop her head in a swirl of elaborate plaits. Her eyes were intelligent and she emitted an air of maturity. The only boy, Malachy, was taller than Robb. He was thin yet lean, and his hair was a dishevelled mop of straight black hair. The last girl, Leena, was slightly shorter than her sister. Her hairstyle was less complex; a plait tied in a tight bun on the lower side of her head. But a few strands of wavy black escaped, framing her face. Robb could see that there was somewhat more mud on the hem of her dark green dress.

"The infamous wildling wards," Eddard commented, but his tone was friendly rather than judgemental.

Alden beamed at the remark. "Indeed. Very skilled in combat yet without the feral nature of their kin. I believe them to be a triumph, if I do say so myself."

The wildlings smiled on cue, but Robb noticed the fleeting glance that the three of them exchanged, a look of tolerance. Robb realised they must have heard themselves be talked about in this way for the majority of their lives.

Eddard called for everyone to come inside and the Stark's and Netherwood's followed. The two Lords walked on ahead, talking of the hunt that they would be having tomorrow. Robb could feel the presence of the wildlings behind him. He itched to turn just a little, only to catch a glimpse, but he resisted. Instead, he did what his duty demanded and turned to the Netherwood siblings.

"How long has it been since you last visited Winterfell?" he asked Caden, engaging in small talk.

Caden exhaled loudly. "Oh, many years, I should think. We were both just boys the last time I was here, if I remember correctly. And we didn't have the wildlings back then." Caden jerked a thumb behind him and Robb found himself instinctively turning to look. Sophia and Malachy were talking quietly between each other, and as a result Robb found himself meeting eyes with Leena. She held his gaze until he turned back around. Even then he could still sense her eyes on him.

"Yes," he agreed, rejoining his conversation with Caden, "I don't remember having ever met your father's wards before."

Caden scoffed. "Be glad. They've been nothing but trouble. My father lavishes all his affections on those three savages as though they're gods. They pretend to be civilised but I've seen the twins in the woods, hunting who knows what."

"Twins?"

"Malachy and Leena are twins. Sophia is their older sister," Caden clarified. "They'll be perfectly tame at the banquet tonight, but mark my words; tomorrow on that hunt they'll be racing ahead with a rampant expression on their faces."

Robb allowed himself one last glance behind him. Leena was speaking with her siblings, yet she still sent one look Robb's way. He turned his gaze away and made sure he didn't look back.