One thousand years ago, The House Greystark rebelled with the Boltons against the Starks of Winterfell. Through the course of the war the House of Greystark was wiped out, with the exception of one. Torrhen Greystark fought against his own family in service to the Starks and during a battle outside the Dreadfort, he defeated Lord Bolton and his heir both, in single combat. Afterwards, he was granted lands and a keep on the Stony Shore and was given the Bolton's valryian steel sword by the King of Winter. He redubbed the sword "Flayed Man's Folly", and took Bolton's daughter to wife. From that day henceforth the second oldest male in their line of succession, be them a brother or cousin to the current Lord Greystark, would be the personal body guard to the King of the North, and would wield Flayed Man's Folly. A tradition that continues, even after King Torrhen Stark bent the knee to Aegon Targaryen.
The most recent being Jaxon Greystark, who was never supposed to be the wielder, and only became so after the Mad King burned Lord Rickard Stark and killed his older brother Artos Greystark, and his uncle Canas Greystark for refusing to confess themselves traitors for slaying eighteen men between them, when the King's men tried to take Lord Rickard and Lord Brandon. He rode south with Lord Eddard Stark and showed his prowess at the Battle of the Bells, slaying the Hand of the King Jon Connington in single combat , saving the life of Denys Aryyn, and crossing swords with Ser Barristan Selmy at the trident, and living to tell the tale. After reclaiming Flayed Man's Folly at Kings Landing, he rode south with Ned Stark to the Tower of Joy and there he slew Ser Oswell Whent in single combat and saved Lord William Dustin's life from Ser Gerold Hightower by holding him off long enough for Howland Reed to stab him in the back of the neck. He refused offers of lands in the Vale, a knighthood, and a place on Robert Baratheon's Kingsguard to return home, for he was weary of war and wished to live out his days in peace.
He served at Winterfell, married and had a son, unfortunately his wife died in the birthing bed. Six years after Robert's Rebellion though, he took up his sword again to aid in putting down the Greyjoy Rebellion. He fought on Pyke, protecting Lord Stark and slaying many ironborn, once again turning down a knighthood and a place on the Kingsguard to return home and raise his son a good strong lad named Case. He also began training his nephew, Canas Greystark, who was sent to Winterfell to foster, to be the next wielder of Flayed Man's Folly, and protector for the heir to Winterfell Robb Stark. Jaxon Greystark's story in nearly at an end, soon he and his brother will pass on the Greystark legacy to their children, and he even though he knows his nephew is hot tempered and occasionally arrogant he is loyal to his liege lord and his family and would do anything to protect them.
The following story will follow the perspectives of:
Canas Greystark- 18
Jenny Greystark- 12
Horas Greystark-16
Case Greystark- 15
Canas, Horas, and Jenny are the children of Jon Greystark, Lord of the Stony Shore. They have an older brother who will appear, and their mother is Lord Wyman Manderly's sister. Case Greystark is Jaxon's son and he and Horas are best friends and nearly inseparable. Canas is considered the best swordsman at Winterfell, with the exception of his uncle, though his uncle knows he will soon one surpass him.
Our story begins on the day King Robert arrives at Winterfell…
Chapter 1: The King's Arrival
Canas Greystark
"Father, mother" Bran Stark was yelling as he ran, "the king is her- OOF." He collided hard with Canas Greystark and landed on his butt in the dirt.
"Gods Bran," said Canas, "I know you're excited but at least watch where you're going."
"I'm sorry Canas, I should be more careful"
"No need to apologize lad, someone has to tell Lord and Lady Stark and who better than their own son?" said Canas, "quickly now or someone will beat you to it."
"Want to race me there?" asked Bran.
"No, I have to find my uncle and tell him they're here now. Have you seen him?"
"Yes, he's over there in the training yard."
"Thank you, now you better hurry."
Canas watched as Bran ran off, his direwolf trailing at his heels, Gods it was getting big, they all were, soon little Rickon would be able to ride his. As he walked through Winterfell, it never ceased to amaze him how big this castle was. Much bigger than his home, Stone Keep on the Stony Shore, no Winterfell was his home now, and it would until his dying day. It was his job as the Wielder to defend Lord Robb, to his last breathe, something his uncle had drilled into his head since day one. Protect him, he had said, not only from blades and men, but also from himself.
There was his uncle, fighting four men at once as it was his regular training regimen. He made Canas do the same, although he was only up to three men, his uncle made fighting four look easy. Dodging, blocking, striking with accuracy and precision, he made quick work of three of them, so that there was only one left. Jory Cassel rushed in high to attack his uncle, and seemed like his uncle swayed slightly to the side, and while Jory's momentum carried him past he struck him hard on the back, and when Jory hit the ground, Jaxon Greystark's sword was at his throat.
"Well fought Jory," said Jaxon as he helped him to his feet, "you got overeager to win the fight and overextended yourself at the end, but otherwise you did fine."
"Aye," said Jory, "I'll beat one of you Greystark's one day."
Jaxon let out a hearty laugh as he clapped Jory on the shoulder, just as he noticed Canas approaching. "Ah nephew! Want to spar? You could always use the practice," he shouted followed by a roaring laugh. Slightly annoyed Canas said, "No time, King Robert is almost here uncle."
"Shit, guess I'll have to meet him smelling, knowing Robert he'll probably laugh though, nothing can be done about it now. I'll change clothes now at least," Jaxon then turned to Canas and asked, "You mind telling Ned I'll be along in a short while?"
"Of course uncle, I'll be sure to let him know you need time because you smell like shit and need a minute. You are getting quite old I'm sure Lord Stark will understand," joked Canas, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
His uncle laughed whole heartily, "Not so old I can't kick your arse lad, now be gone with you, and don't forget to wear your sword, purely ceremonial, but important. Where do you stand to defend Robb?" Jaxon asked his nephew.
"Behind and to the left," Canas replied.
"Good, now hurry. We have dithered here too long already."
Canas nods, then turns and begins running up to his room, thanking the Gods that his room was on the bottom floor of the castle he ran in and saw his sword was exactly where he left it, laying across his chest at the foot of his bed. It was a simple weapon, castle forged steel, it was straight and slightly heavier than a regular longsword. His uncle had told him it was because Flayed Man's Folly was lighter, that this sword would make him able to swing it faster, make him more deadly. He also decided to put on a doublet that had his family sigil, a bloody longsword on a field of grey. He made sure his sword was secure at his side and made his way towards the courtyard. When he was almost there he came across Robb and Theon walking in the same direction.
Theon was laughing in that annoying laugh he always did, Gods that laugh irritated him. Growing up on the Stony Shore he had always been raised to never trust ironborn, they were all murderers and rapists. However, Robb trusted Theon so Canas begrudgingly held his tongue and kept his eyes on him. One day, one day that bastard will betray Robb. Keep your wits about you lad, and when you sense it's about to happen, don't hesitate. His uncle had told him that, shortly after he had first arrived at Winterfell. Angry that Robb was always taking Theon's side, the cocky bastard had always started it.
Canas pushed those thoughts from his head as he walked up behind Robb and took his place behind him and to the left. "Look Robb, your shadows here. Here to protect you from the many dangers in Winterfell." Theon said with a smirk. Gods he wanted to punch that smirk off his face.
"Shut it Theon, Canas is simply doing his job as is his family tradition," he them glanced at Canas and said, "I'm sorry Theon's being an ass, he's just still mad after the trouncing you gave him in the sparring ring last week."
"Greystark got lucky Robb, he's lucky I was still a little drunk from the night before," said Theon.
"Luck had nothing to do it Greyjoy," replied Canas, "If you spent as much time practicing as you did chasing whores, you might become half as good as me."
Theon whirled around angrily, "Care to say that again?" he said beginning to raise his voice.
"ENOUGH", shouted Robb, "You will not do this today, not in front of King Robert. The two of you will behave yourselves understand?"
Theon looked insulted that Robb would order him, but Canas simply nodded and said, "Of course Lord Stark," Theon began to open his mouth again to speak, but Robb beat him to it.
"I said enough Theon, alright? The two of you, please just don't fight, at least for today."
Canas and Theon both nodded, and continued walking with Robb, until Theon looked back and mouthed at Canas, I'll get you one day Greystark, he then winked and kept walking.
You will try, thought Canas as they emerged into the courtyard and took their places, waiting for King Robert to ride in through the gates.