Well here it is, Whispers in the Wind, the official rewrite of A Song Unsung. I'm sorry to those who liked ASU. I liked it too but it was everywhere and I lost sight of where it was going. Another reason I rewrote it was I felt that it wasn't much of an AU but merely canon with changes and since I felt it was so similar to canon I unconsciously continued to write canon with my ideas thrown in there.
This story will have some of the same things but the plot will be totally different from the books/show. Now enough of that, let's get to the story.
Chapter 1: Wolves Will Rise
The lord of the north was in deep thought as he sat in his solar. His plans were coming along well. It wouldn't be much longer before the whispers of his southron ambitions ceased. Many thought he was forgetting northern traditions, preferring the south to the north, that his late maester had his ear. Walys was a decent man. He had his vices but a decent man. The man did seem a bit ambitious for a natural born maester. Nonetheless he had value but alas his southron blood could not stand the northern cold. A whisper of winter arrived in the night and disappeared into the wind with his life.
His mind drifted to those who spoke of his so called southron ambitions. He felt they were fools to think such a thing. He was a Stark and in many ways being a Stark meant he was the north. The ice, the land, everything that was the north was, was within him. The blood coursing through his veins would never allow him to forget the land that bred his bloodline. His plans had brought a lot of unwanted attention towards his lands but it was necessary. Enemies were made in the south and the north but it would pay off for House Stark, and the North in the end. Now was the best time to put them into action. The realm had its attention on the birth of Prince Viserys and the tourney in Lannisport.
Rickard stood in the godswood of Winterfell. He found solace in the presence of the ancient heart tree. Immovable faith was one of the many things his father instilled within him. The Old Gods were mysterious deities. There were no physical depictions of them, no stories of their deeds. Yet their followers still held some of the strongest, unwavering faith. It was this curiosity that led to a monumental discovery.
"My lord?" Rickard broken from his thoughts turned and saw his advisor, Martyn Cassel.
The grizzled man had served him loyally for years. He was one of the few that Rickard held in high regard. Martyn was a voice of reason when he needed council, a valued asset. His voice had become the loudest after his maester passed due to a spring chill not more than a fortnight ago. Some silently rejoiced at the passing of Maester Walys but Rickard cursed, the man had his secrets but he was useful.
"Lord Eddard has arrived in company of lords Reed and Manderly."
Rickard said a silent prayer, "We best not keep them waiting."
The two men exited the sacred grounds and made their way to Winterfell's great hall. The Warden of the North entered to find his two eldest sons and Lords Umber, Reed, Dustin and Manderly. He gave a nod to Martyn, dismissing him for the moment. His grey eyes scanned the room, analyzing each inhabitant.
Brandon stood tall, proud and strong, fitting for a Stark. Even at fourteen, he was tall. Rickard sometimes worried for the boy, his wolf's blood along with the fierceness he inherited from his mother would get him in trouble if he did not learn how to control it.
Eddard's eyes were unsure. Rickard did not blame the boy. He had only spent five of the eight agreed years in the Eyrie only to be abruptly called back. The boy was nearly his identical. In almost every way Eddard seemed to mimic him, personality in all. Though Rickard was a bit more assertive than his second son, something he hoped he grew out of. He would have to for what was planned for him.
His eyes then turned to Lord Edwyn Dustin, a bear of a man. The man could be mistaken for the Umber standing next to him. Edwyn was a man that Rickard trusted and coveted as a vassal. It was one of the many reasons why he fostered Brandon with him. Lord Dustin was a man that would follow him to the ends of the earth.
The new, young Lord Umber had inherited not but a few scant days ago. The boy was only fifteen, just a year older than Brandon. Rickard went and met with Lord Jon after word of his father, the late Lord Donnell Umber fell to a band of wildling raiders.
Lord Wyman Manderly was hard to miss. The man was wide of girth but Rickard knew better than to dismiss him because of his appearance. In reality Wyman was one of, if not his most important bannermen. He and his house were a big part of his plans. The Starks and the Manderlys have long had a strong and important relationship, longer than most remember.
Last was the mysterious lord of Greywater Watch. His hauntingly green eyes shined from under his hood. Before his enlightenment Rickard never thought to venture to the neck and meet with the crannog lord. Orin Reed was an ancient man, well over eighty years. Despite his age he still moved about with the vigor of a younger man. There were many things that Rickard could not figure out about the man but one thing was true, he was devout. Rickard had learned a lot about his Gods from the man but much was still a mystery, even to the mystical Lord Reed.
"Sons, my lords, I'm sure you all have questions as to your presence here today." Rickard spoke as all eyes were on him.
Silence reigned for a few moments before Rickard spoke again, "I've called you all here because today is the day the north begins its return to prominence."
He could see his words have a different effect on those present. Fear, curiosity and even indifference from Lord Reed but Rickard knew about the man's gift. He most likely already knew what was going to be said.
"Worry not it is not treason as the king may think. I am merely securing our place in the world for the time to come. I know you've all heard the people whispering of my plans for the south. They hold some truth. I do intend to bring the south into the fold with the north but we will not let them become dominant."
"I mean no disrespect, my lord, but the south has never been good to us. How would allowing such snakes into our lands be beneficial?" Lord Edwyn asked.
"The north once stood on its own, Lord Dustin," Rickard locked eyes with the man, "And the north was forced to kneel but it was never really brought to heel, never conquered. I fear the day the dragons remember that and choose to fulfill a foolish ambition, that day may be near."
"What do you speak of, my lord?" Lord Wyman asked, speaking up.
Surprisingly it was Eddard who spoke up, "He speaks of the king and his growing madness."
All eyes were on the second born now. Eddard being uncomfortable will all the attention nearly averted his eyes but the teachings of both his father and foster father about being a man didn't allow it. Rickard sent his son an approving nod before speaking again.
"Aye, as Eddard says, King Aerys is growing madder every day. He speaks of splitting the north between Lord Bolton and I."
"Madness, the day I bow to a Bolton is the day I fly on a unicorn!" Lord Edwyn boomed.
"The king would not truly think to break what has been whole for thousands of years." Lord Wyman said aghast at the information.
"He is a fool to think it possible. I would cut him from shoulder to balls before he could give the command." Brandon said hotly.
"Aye, I'm with Lord Brandon, shoulder to balls!" The boisterous, young Umber added.
"Brandon!" Rickard hissed, "Watch your words, boy."
Brandon looked to say something else but Rickard held his icy glare. The Stark heir dropped his shoulders and relaxed his muscles. Rickard felt a similar way but his temper was far less of a problem than Brandon's. The boy was lucky he only invited those he knew were Stark men through and through.
"The sentiment is shared, my lords. The Targaryens and the Starks have never particularly gotten along. They've always thought us to be savages and below the southron lords. Even when my ancestor Cregan saved them from destruction, they spurned him. With that being said I still believe the king won't move on the north, at least not anytime soon. There are bigger problems in his own court he has to contend with and we will use that time to prepare."
"What will we do, my lord?" Lord Wyman asked.
"We will stand on our own once again but this time we will have friends." Rickard hoped his next words were taken well.
"Brandon, you are near a man grown. The time for you to do your duty is close. I have made the arrangements for your betrothal to Catelyn Tully. It gives us a strong ally and it opens trading routes for us."
Brandon only nodded, which shocked the Lord Paramount of the North. He knew of his son's free spirited adventures and his choice to chase every pretty girl he laid eyes on. His breeches would have to stay up. Lord Hoster wouldn't take well to Brandon dishonoring his daughter.
He turned to Eddard. The young boy shifted under his father's gaze. Rickard would have chuckled if the moment wasn't so serious. Eddard was nervous he would be betrothed as well. Rickard knew his time was soon as well but not quite yet.
"Not to worry, Ned, your time to be a husband is yet off. But you do have a duty and that duty is here in the north. Your time in the Eyrie is over."
Rickard felt a pang of guilt as he saw his son's face fall. It pained him and filled him with pride to see him not even protest. While it was dutiful he was still a boy, to not even question that meant Eddard was beyond his years. He knew his next words would cheer him up and hopefully loosen his stoic mask.
"It has also been agreed that Lord Robert will foster at Winterfell until it is time for him to return to Storms End."
As expected the corners of Ned's mouth slightly curved into a small smile. Rickard thought to marry his only daughter to the Baratheon boy but he couldn't do it. His late wife wouldn't want that for her, not a southron husband. He hoped the strong brotherly bond, Ned and Robert shared would be enough to survive the trouble to come.
Now it was time for his lords to do their duty to their liege lord. The north and the south would be bound in more ways than one.
"Lord Wyman I hear your son needs a wife." Rickard said to the heavy set man.
Lord Wyman nodded, "You are correct, my lord. Do you have someone in mind for Wylis?"
A small sense of elation filled Rickard. The smile Wyman wore let Rickard know that House Manderly would do its duty. At that moment he remembered something his father told him.
"The Manderly's have owed the Starks beyond what could be paid in a mortal life, but yet our ancestor welcomed them freely and with open arms. They are forever indebted to us and because of that when we call, they will come."
"I do, Lord Leyton Hightower is willing to marry his daughter Leyla to him."
The proposal shocked the room's occupants, sans Lord Rickard. Though the north dealt with the south as little as possible, it was widely known that the Lord of the Hightower was a recluse. The man had not left his tower in years.
Out of character, Lord Wyman looked flustered, "But, my lord, is this not a better match for young Lord Brandon. A marriage to the Hightowers would be greatly beneficial to the Starks."
"Take it as a reward for your undoubted loyalty. Though I do expect White Harbor to grow. I want the city bigger, stronger."
Rickard saw Lord Dustin shift and the creeping anger rising in the young Umber's eyes. As he had, Lord Reed had yet to speak or move.
"I have not forgotten about you my lords. Edwyn, our houses were once bitter enemies. That was thousands of years ago but yet I feel there is still an ill feeling hanging about."
"I assure you, House Stark has no need to fear any ill intent from House Dustin. The Dustins were once kings but they bowed to the better men. I would die before I betrayed you my lord." Lord Dustin said whole heartedly, his hand over his heart.
Rickard nodded, "That I know, and that is why I offer the hand of my daughter to your son."
Without looking Rickard could feel his sons stiffen. He looked to Brandon and saw his visage soften and a smile appeared on his face. Rickard knew he approved, being friends with young Lord William. Eddard's face didn't tell much but he knew there was a hint of disappointment hidden behind his chilly mask.
He turned the new Lord Umber, "My lord I have not a marriage for you but an offer of monetary gain. I have gained new allies in the trade business and I need men to guard my resources once they reach the north. The Umbers are the fiercest men I know."
The large man couldn't help but grin widely at the praise of his liege lord. While it was no marriage it was something that would help his people.
"House Umber will be honored to serve House Stark."
Rickard gave the Umber a nod and turned to Lord Reed. Feeling his Lord's gaze on him the thin man lowered his hood revealing faded white hair. He craned his neck and looked up. It took a significant amount of discipline not to jump as his green eyes seemed to glow when they met his grey ones. There was overwhelming but waning power in them.
"My lord, your people have guarded the north since the gods thought to weave the lands together. Today I ask you to keep your eyes south, for the rise of the north will surely draw attention of dragons."
"You've no need to ask, my lord. Before all, my blood swore to yours our forever undying loyalty. The Old Gods look down on House Stark with favor. The dragons will look but find nothing."
His voice was weak, barely above a whisper but it carried throughout the hall. As the last waves of his voice exited the hall a hum of wind entered as if the Gods were sending their approval.
Rickard sighed in relief. The starting stages were done. He had secured what he needed outside of the north now it was time to strengthen his lands and its people.
"That is all for today, my lords. The servants will show you to your rooms."
They bowed before leaving to get some rest. What they learned today was quite taxing. Rickard dropped in his seat in exhaustion, thinking himself to be alone.
"Father?" The Stark Patriarch snapped his head up, startled by Eddard's quite approach.
"What is it, Ned?" Rickard asked trying to hide his tiredness.
"Why was I called here, if I was not gaining a betrothal?"
"You need to know the North and the North needs to know you. Now it has been a long day, son and it's time to retire to your room."
Ned nodded before leaving his father alone. Rickard sighed, a lot was going on. The entirety of the North was on his shoulders and he wasn't sure if he could carry it for much longer. Feeling the exhaustion begin to take him, Rickard quickly made way to his chambers. Soon his clothes were off and sleep had taken him.
The sun had risen and the cool crisp morning air invaded his room. Rickard awoke to find the sun higher than he'd liked. He had overslept, not by much but nonetheless he had kept his guests waiting. Swiftly putting on his casual garments, grey pants and a white doublet with a direwolf embroidered on it. His sons and his lords were waiting for him when he arrived in the great hall.
"Father."
"My lord."
Came the chorused greeting. Rickard nodded before going to sit at the head of the small table. Today was a new day but still much was to be done.
"Sons, my lords, I hope you all had a good night's sleep." They all nodded affirmatively.
They spoke of old times, times of peace but somehow they began to tell old war stories. Lord Rickard had begun to tell his tale of the War of Ninepenny Kings.
"I watched as Lord Ormund was cut down. Steffon dropped to his knees and cradled his father. I cut down every man who dared interrupt their last moments together. Eventually I had to drag Steffon away."
"What of Maelys Blackfyre, was he as hideous as they say?" Brandon asked.
"Aye, a fell beast rejected by the gods. Hideous he may have been but a damned good warrior."
"I remember seeing Ser Barristan cut him down. A thousand cheers roared and the war was won." Lord Dustin said adding his own memories.
The room went silent for a moment. The talk of war brought upon worry of the impending madness of the current dragon on the throne.
"Lord Stark, you want White Harbor to grow." Lord Wyman stated, more than questioned.
"I do, we need more trade. Along with the city I plan to raise on the west coast, I want White Harbor to thrive. Whalers from Ibben, Merchants from Braavos, the north will see expansion."
"A city on the west coast, where and who will command it, father?" Eddard asked.
"The Stony Shore, Lord Frost will be given command of the old Fisher keep. He served well in the war and has done a fine job of fighting back raiders."
Eating was done and now it was time to get his day started. Before he did anything else, Rickard dismissed himself and went to the godswood. Once again he found himself in front of the heart tree. He bowed his head and closed his eyes as he placed a hand on the tree. Having contact with the vessel of the Gods made Rickard feel a stronger connection to them.
"I've come to you today with a humble request. I fear there are those that wish doom on Westeros. There a feeling in my being that tells of war. I know it is coming, I only request that we are warned before fire rains down on us."
Removing his hand he stood up. A soft wind blew across the ancient grounds. Rickard felt a small amount of relief, a minuscule amount of weight lifted off his shoulders. Feeling energized he exited the godswood and found Martyn waiting for him. Like always Rickard went off to handle his business with Martyn following behind him.
There it is, the first chapter of Whispers in the Wind. As you can see the first change has happened, Maester Walys died earlier than usual. Many more changes are coming, I assure you. I want to warn you. I plan on making this a true AU, almost if not unrecognizable when compared to the books. This is not A Song of Ice and Fire or A Game of Thrones but Whispers in the Wind.