Chapter 1

Tower of Joy, Dorne

"Now it begins," said a knight dressed in golden armour drawing a hauntingly beautiful blade out of the sheath on his beck. Besides him four other similarly clad knights drew their weapons to face the five opponents in front of them.

The dark haired man with the sword that looked like it was made of milkstone had a look in his eyes that said that even though they were to fight, in his heart he didn't believe in his cause anymore. He had resigned to his fate which was ultimately his death. The others though aware of their eventual defeat had fighting spirit that said that they wouldn't go down without a fight.

"No, now it ends," Eddard Stark declared rushing forward at the famed Sword of the Morning to tie him down while his companions defeated the rest of the Kingsguard. He knew that he had no chance in beating this famous knight who was recognized as the best swordsman in all of Westeros. He could only defend until one of his companions attack him from the behind.

The fight started almost immediately as Lord William Dustin and Ethan Glover engaged Ser Gerold Hightower. The White Bull was just as difficult as Arthur Dayne to deal with. Mark Ryswell engaged Ser Oswell Whent and Howland Reed, Martyn Cassel and Theo Wull attacked the remaining enemies.

Eddard crouched under a heavy blow aimed at his head while swiping Arthur's legs with Ice. His adversary jumped and punched him with his dominant hand using his passive hand to follow through the blow of his sword. Eddard hastily tried to block the push putting his arm up. The blow connected and he felt pain shoot up his limb like a current. These men were fighting like they hand nothing left. That made them unpredictable as they didn't care for their safety.

He hooked his leg under Arthur's and tried to trip him using his crouched position to his advantage. At the same time he swung Ice over his head and right at Arthur's torso. Arthur tripped. But his surprise didn't last long at he expertly brought Dawn to his side and deflected the blow that would have decapitated him.

If Arthur had been equipped with any other blade this ploy would have been successful as no other blade could withstand several heavy blows from a Valyrian Steel blade. But Dawn was made out of a metal that was on par if not better than the Valyrian Steel blades. It could match blow to blow with Ice without its keen edge ever dulling.

Eddard felt like if he was being controlled by someone else as his body moved without him thinking on survival instinct, attacking and defending against the hardest opponent he had ever faced. He considered himself as a deft sword hand. There were only a few that could pose him trouble when it came to sword fights. The men of the North were much stronger than their southern counterparts since harsh lands bred hard men. This was the first time he had lost his initiative in a fight. Even his brother, Brandon 'The Wild Wolf' Stark didn't make him loose his composure like this.

He sighed internally wondering where it all went wrong. Eleven months ago he was enjoying the Tourney at Harrenhall with his family not knowing that their family would be left in shambles and most of them dead and some missing. If he had known so, he would have done his best to keep Lyanna away from that dragoncunt and Brandon from his usual impulsive and brash behaviour. Now… his father was dead, elder bother; dead, his sister… he didn't know whether she was dead or alive. Only his younger brother remained at Winterfell. But even if he was to die here, he would see to it that the remainder of his family was reunited and taken care of. No matter what he wasn't going to leave Dorne without Lyanna.

The burning rage under his calm exterior was not known by anybody else. His brother in all but blood may have led this rebellion against the Targaryens, but even if he was alone… he would have turned the entire Seven Kingdoms upside down to get his revenge. He wanted nothing but to burn their cities to ashes and kill every one last noble who wanted to make his House a ploy in their little games. His anger, though mostly vented with the death of Rheagar Targaryen, yet simmered underneath his impassive countenance waiting to burst forth like the wild animal.

There was a reason why the Stark family had a direwolf as their family sigil. Their family had a direct relationship with these gigantic beasts that roamed the Northern forests. It was said that all descendants of his family was said to have wolf blood in their veins. That was why all of them were given a nickname relating to a wolf. He was known as the Quiet Wolf while his elder brother was known as the Wild Wolf.

This wolf blood gave them very unpredictable natures. According to his father he was the one who gained the least amount of 'wolf blood' in the family. Thus he was able to control his behaviour when angered unlike his brother who became a beast. One thing that Jon Arryn beat into him form the day he arrived in the Eyrie was to suppress this wildness as it wasn't a characteristic of a 'noble'.

Though suppressed, this wildness rose up when he was angered beyond reason.

'Need to finish this civilly… calm down… calm down,' he chanted to himself like a mantra so that his savage side would not emerge. If he was to give into his urges there would only be body parts left scattered around the bottom of the tower. Of whose... he couldn't even hazard a guess.

"Ahhh!" A scream rang. Eddard knew that one of the men was out of the fight. Of whose side… he didn't know. He hoped that it wasn't one of his as he had led these men without backup due to his selfish desire to reunite with his sister as soon as possible. All of them were his close friends. William Dustin was Brandon's childhood friend. William had spent a lot of time together with Brandon when they were small. He too joined his big brother and his friend in their escapades around the castle before he was packed away to foster under Jon Arryn by his father. Ethan Glover was his father's squire. Mark Ryswell was the steward of Winterfell. Martyn Cassel was the brother of Roderick Cassel, the Master at Arms of Winterfell. Howland Reed was Lyanna's close and personal friend. Each and every one of them mattered to him unlike the filth that was still heeding the orders of the accursed dragons who were already usurped.

The only regret he had was ending the life of the knight in front of him. He and Arthur were friends. The two had met in the Vale when Arthur was wondering the Seven Kingdoms before he became a Kingsguard. They instantly hit it off for they had similar tastes and desires. Arthur was the one who tried to set him up with his sister Ashara at Harrenhall at his request. But now… they were in the opposite sides of the war as he was still one of the Mad King's Kingsguard. He was still a follower of Rheagar Targaryen. Because of that despicable man who was once regarded as the solution for all the troubles of the Realm, he had taken part in kidnapping his sister who was already betrothed to Robert Baratheon. That was something he wouldn't forgive even if they were friends.

Even if he was to lose his life here today, the man in front of him would never be able to reclaim his old life for Robert was waiting for his head at King's Landing.

"Sorry it has to be this way, Ned," Arthur said quietly as they fought toe to toe breaking the monotonous actions between them.

"Why did you do it?" he asked the Sword of the Morning with hatred seeping into his voice. Arthur obviously understood his tone and had a pained look on his face.

"I was following orders. What else could I have done. Everyone who chose to ignore Rheagar's orders were put to death by him. Where do you think happened to Se Harlan Grandison? Even his family was implicated because of his stance. I didn't want my family to suffer."

"Why didn't you run away?"

"Run where? If I had left my post here, me and my family would have been the targets for the Baratheon as well as the Targaryen loyalists. My death would mean the freedom and security of my family."

"Maybe I could smuggle you North," Ned spoke.

"Don't be naive, Ned. The world isn't all black and white. You maybe an honourable man, but the rest of the world is not. Sometimes you have to take a despicable action that would haunt your thoughts for the rest of your life so that you and your family would survive. But I will not surrender. I wish to die like a true warrior with my blade in my hand. I will not lose my dignity as a swordsman."

"But…"

"No buts, Ned. I have already come to terms with my destiny. Please return Dawn to Starfall after my death. Unleash the anger you have for Rheagar at me. I too sinned the day I took part in that despicable act."

"ROAR!"

Ned saw Gerold Hightower slam his shoulder into William sending him flying. In that belief moment the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard swiped his sword across Ethan's neck. The man looked in surprise trying to comprehend what had happened. Then he collapsed looking at Ned with a wry smile. His eyes dulled immediately afterwards.

Ned felt unexplainable sense of loss as he saw the death of one of the closest people in his life. The two of them fought side by side from the Riverlands all the way to King's Landing. They talked of returning home triumphantly during the nights when they were resting. Ned knew that Ethan had left all his desires and wishes unfulfilled. He felt numb when he comprehended that he wouldn't hear any more of Ethan's crude jokes. He wouldn't see his bright smile and the excitement in his eyes when the man was engaged in battle.

The White Bull looked pleased at his work. So he didn't notice Howland leaping from behind plunging his dagger in his neck. In that instance Willam rushed forward and bisected the man who was said to be undefeatable into to from shoulder to hip in anger at the death of his comrade. Ned felt a grim satisfaction at the brutal death the man received. The man had taken one of his friends from him. He just wished he could have inflicted more pain to the man before his death. The wolves were extremely protective of their own.

Ned kicked Arthur away to glance at the battlefield briefly.

Ethan Glover was dead as was Martyn Cassel. Mark Ryswell was on the floor with Oswell Whent towering over him reading himself for the final blow. On the opposite side other than Arthur and Oswell only one kingsguard remained. It was four against three… three against three since Mark was in a position he couldn't recover from.

He felt another pang of guilt now that Mark was ready to leave the world as well. He calculated, but Ned knew that even if he rushed the man, he wouldn't be able to save Mark.

Before Arthur could stabilize himself William joined into the fray attacking Arthur. Ned hurriedly engaged Arthur as well since he knew that William would lose his life if he was to compete alone. He wasn't going to lose more of his people if he could help it. Arthur was a man of his word. He would go down fighting with his dignity intact instead of giving up and staying his blade due to the friendship they shared. He wanted his death to have meaning. And for that, he fought with everything he had.

Arthur expertly tripped Ned and using a backhand separated the weapon out of William's hand. He raised his sword to end his life. Ned grimaced at his failure. His mind worked overtime, yet he came up with nothing. It was as if his brain had emptied. He couldn't process the reality no matter how hard his mind worked.

"SCREECH"

A piercing sound rang and Ned had to drop his weapon to couch his ears in agony. It wasn't just him, but every single person was affected by the piercing sound that went straight to their brains.

Ned hurriedly picked up his weapon and backed away pulling William by his scruff out of Arthur's sword arc regrouping with his fellow Northerners while the surviving Kingsguard did the same. The screech had saved Mark and William. No matter what caused it, Ned was grateful to it.

A slow thumping drew his gaze upwards. Ned felt his mouth open up in surprise at the sight above his head.

"What the fuck is that?" Oswell questioned pointing the three creatures descending from the skies. They obscured the sun as they came down making only a shadowy outline visible to the spectators below. The three creatures spiralled each other gracefully as they descended.

"Is that a dragon?" William asked him silently.

"I don't know," he replied cursing the heavens under his breath for prolonging his reunion with his sister. Worst still, if it was indeed a dragon they would most likely not make it out alive since only the Targaryens had the ability to control them. But then again if they were dragons, where did they come from? The last dragon under the Targaryens died almost a century ago. They were considered extinct in Westeros… though he had heard stories about the existence of dragons in Sothoyros and the lands of Assahai.

As they came down their images became more and more clear. They were not dragons. Instead they were another species that he had only heard in stories told by his old nan. They were once said to have lived in the mountains of the Vale. They were also the sigil of House Connington led by Jon Connigton, one of his prime enemies who had managed to disappear amidst the chaos of the war. The creatures came down rapidly and landed with a soft thump. They all ruffled their wings looking at them proudly and the one in the forefront gave out another screech making them cover their ears again. These creatures were known as griffins… one of the legendary creatures mentioned in the annals of Westeros… a creature that was said to be as magical as a dragon.

These creatures had the head of an eagle with cat like ears protruding from the feathers on its head. Unlike what was depicted in pictures, they didn't have eagle feet for their forelegs. Instead, its entire body was that of a lion. Its tail was bushy and long like that of a wolf. They were powerfully built, their backs reaching his chest height. Their heads towered over them as they peered into them regally with slight interest. The attitude they extruded was that they didn't consider Ned and the rest of his party no better than harmless ants.

Ned could see why they had such an attitude. A single cry from them was able to disable all of them. That was without even considering any other ability they possessed. He couldn't help but feel small and insignificant in front of these majestic beings.

Their coloration was beautiful. Two of them had pitch black fur while one had golden fur covering its body. The feathers too were of different colours making it easy for them to distinguish the three griffins from each other. The colour of their eyes matched the colour of their feathers.

A shallow thump drew his attention to the little detail he had been ignoring for now. These creatures didn't come alone. There were three riders on these griffins. These visitors looked around imperiously completely ignoring the battling men assembled at the bottom of the tower. From the way they behaved, they seemed at ease amongst men who were pointing their weapons at them. the three of them extruded the pride of a warrior.

"Who are you?" Oswell Whent yelled at the three riders. He and the other Kingsguard had drawn their weapons and were on guard for any development. Even he and his companions were on their guard since they didn't know why these mysterious griffin riders appeared so suddenly.

But the three men completely disregarded Oswell as if he didn't exist. The remaining Kingsguard whose name escaped Ned was infuriated at the disrespect the riders showed towards them, charged at the man in the front with his sword despite the yells of Oswell and Arthur.

Just as the kingsguard was about to swing his primed sword arm, the man casually stepped to the side as if he was gliding and drew his weapon which was secured on his saddle horizontally because of its size. The weapon which happened to be a massive waraxe sliced through the air straight towards the kings guard's neck. The knight didn't even have a second to comprehend what had happened before the axe had completely sliced through his neck. The blank uncomprehending eyes stared out as his head flew in an arc drawing an arc of blood while his body crashed down at the side of his killer.

The man managed to snatch the sword out of his despised adversary before his body crashed to the ground. He glanced it once over and threw the weapon away in slight disgust.

Ned felt his muscles clench involuntarily at the sight. The kingsguard was no cannon fodder. He was a trained warrior who was well equipped and also trained to the maximum. They had made names for themselves before joining the order. He represented one of the strongest organizations in Westeros. And yet he was killed in an instant. The axe managed to cleave through the mail covering his neck as if it wasn't there. Even if plate armour had been used to cover the neck, the blow itself would have broken his neck due to the impact.

The man who slayed him was strong. He reminded Ned of Robert. The Demon of the Trident had the same impressive strength that he used to crush his opponents to a pulp with overwhelming force. The man who Ned looked forward to kill with his own hands had died under Roberts hammer miserably due to a crushed chest. He didn't know and didn't want to know how well Robert stacked unto the strength of this man.

And there was that weapon. The waraxe wasn't anything like he had ever seen before. It was pitch black with golden veins running all over it.

'Wait… thats just like Valyrian Steel,' he thought noticing the similarity of the patterns of his sword and the axe despite the different colouration of the 'veins'.

Ned heard William draw in a cold breath. Ned understood that they were no match for these three should they take action. Especially now as they were exhausted both physically and mentally from their brief yet exhilarating fight. Even if they fought, there was the unknown factor that was the three griffins. Who knew how powerful they were? Ned noticed Arthur motion Oswell to back down, their back facing the stone wall of the Tower of Joy.

The leader of the three, the man who had casually ended the kingsguard's life was powerfully built. His stature was similar to that of the Baratheon men. He wore an armour that was a mix between heavy armour and light armour. His weapon of choice seemed to be a waraxe as they had seen him use it extremely skillfully. He also had a short sword on his hip. The man had flowing black hair tied into a pony tail and a beard that seemed to have been trimmed to a certain length. A band of interwoven gold and silver rested on his head indicating a tie to royalty. The most prominent feature in his face was the eyes. They were steely grey like the skies above Winterfell during the winter with green webbings. In a woman these eyes would have been breathtaking. Ned subconsciously appointed him as the leader of the three due to his sheer presence.

The next person wasn't as heavily built as their leader. His stature was more akin to that of Mark. He was tall and lean but fit enough to wield two swords easily seeing from his weaponry. He was less heavily armoured as the other person making him look like as if he preferred agile movements and rapid pace combat instead of long overdrawn fights. He too had pitch black hair that was trimmed to a manageable size along with a simple yet short beard. He too had the piercing grey and green eyes. On his head was a simple silver circlet. His choice weapon were swords as he had two strapped on his waists.

The two of them looked like if they were brothers as their features were almost identical. Ned felt a feeling of familiarity from them. It was felt through his blood as if it called out to them. Their sigil which was embossed to their chest plates was a front facing wolf head with read eyes with a trident on the background. This surprised him as he knew not of another House with a wolf for its sigil. There were counts of other animals being used repeatedly with different designs like the lion which was used by Bothe the Lannisters and the Reynes but never the wolf.

The two also seemed as if they were his age.

The final person was completely different from the earlier duo. He was tall and had light brownish skin. He had brown hair which he had grown out to be tied in a ponytail. He was armoured like their leader and carried a greatsword on his back. The sigil on his chest depicted a white griffin.

"Eddard Stark, I presume," the leader said looking at Ned.

"Yes, may I have the honour of knowing your name?" He asked making use of all the chivalry based laws and etiquettes he learnt in the Vale. He was surprised that the man knew of his as this was the first time they had ever met.

"I'm named Theseus… this is my brother Perseus," he introduced himself and the man who looked like him.

"No last name?" Theo questioned bluntly which wasn't surprising given his blunt attitude.

Ned too looked questioningly at them. Usually when someone introduced themselves, the last name was a must. Even the lowliest of the smallfolk in had a surname which they used to trace their ancestry. The only people Ned knew who didn't have a surname were the savages of Essos as well as the slaves originating from the Slaver's Bay.

"Tsk"

The sound of displeasure drew the attention of Ned and the others to the final man of the trio. The man who had yet to be introduced was glaring at Theo as if he wished Theo to be consumed by the wrath of the Old Gods. Ned had no idea what had elicited this anger, but her could vaguely guess that it was something regarding to the family name of Theseus and Perseus.

"This is Aymar Zor'el," Theseus introduced. Theseus shot a reproachful look at Aymar but the man ignored it completely.

"And they say that Westeros is the home of chivalry… If you had uttered that particular sentence back at home you would have been flogged alive by the Spectres!" Aymar said bluntly. Ned had no idea on what he was ranting. But it seemed an important piece of information in uncovering the identities of the men in front of him.

"What do you mean?" Theo questioned. His face carried traces of fear and uncertainty as he was the one who had caused the man to retort like this. Ned was afraid that Aymar would attack Theo because from the looks, he had greatly insulted the men who had saved them.

"You are in the presence of the children and heirs of Highqueen Serena Stark, the Compassionate; Prince Theseus of Skyfall and Prince Perseus of Stormfront."

'Highqueen? Prince? What the hell is going on?… What the hell did he mean by Stark?' Ned questioned, his thoughts in a jumble.

"Stark?" William questioned thunderingly.

"Yes," Theseus replied. "We don't use that particular name despite our mother insisting on using it herself."

The revelation blew Ned's mind. He knew that his family was quite large despite being reduced to him, his younger brother and hopefully his sister. There had been many branches and side branches. But according to what he knew, all of them resided within the North. None of these side branches had a direct ancestry to the Starks of Winterfell in this generation. Unless he counted the women who married out of their House to other Houses he didn't know of any male Stark who had left his home and name behind.

Then again there was a faction of the Northerners led by Brandon Stark who left their homes because his brother Torrhen submitted to Aegon Targaryen. Those men still operated today under the name of the Company of Roses in Essos. According to his father Richard Stark, there were no Starks in-name surviving in Essos since the male line had died out before he was born. Still their blood survived through the female line.

'Are they part of the Company of Roses?' He questioned himself. Maybe that was the reason they don't use their last name.

"Surprised?" Theseus asked with a little teasing grin despite the tense environment.

"Very," William replied. "Sorry… name's William Dustin. I guess you can say that I'm in charge of the Barrowlands."

"Ah… the descendants of the Barrowking," Theseus nodded acknowledging the man.

Ned hurriedly introduced the rest of his men including Oswell and Arthur. He didn't trust these newcomers even though they said they were Starks. These two said that they didn't like using the name Stark despite them being part of the Stark family thought their mother used it. It only meant that there was some bad blood between the two branches. He needed tp find out why this was and how it would affect their future contacts.

"There hasn't been a Stark king for over three hundred years," Oswell stated. Though they were huddled separately, they kept an ear out to the conversation as it regarded their future as well.

"In Westeros," Aymar replied.

"Wha…" William started to question as a piercing scream rang out from the top of the tower.

"I need to see my sister," Ned said starting to make his way towards the entrance of the tower. All other questions within his mind abruptly disappeared when he heard the sound of distress that originated from his little sister. Everything else was secondary. Due to the arrival of these foreign 'Starks' he had even forgotten his main objective until now. He would have a long firm talk with them.

He dreaded on finding the aftermath on top of the tower. At least that cry meant that his sister was still alive.

He wasn't stopped by Arthur and Oswell as the entrance of the tower was blocked to them by the griffins. Though Oswell looked like if he wanted to stop him, Arthur held him back. Looking at the situation it had dawned to him that fighting now was just meaningless. It was as if they were throwing eggs at rocks. Arthur wanted his death to have a meaning and he would not agree to a futile meaningless death.

"Let the loss of lives end here now. Your people have already lost their war," Theseus said to Arthur and Oswell. "If you want to lose your lives so badly my brother can entertain you… but I promise that it would be your last experience on this world. I suggest you surrender."

"We will never follow that rapist named Robert Baratheon," Arthur stated.

Ned knew that Arthur was incensed at Robert because during the Tourney, Robert had drunkenly tried to 'assault' his sister Ashara. But luckily Arthur was able to save his sister from that particular fate. This was also one of the reasons for Roberts seething rage against Arthur. Ned was certain that it was also the main reason why the famed swordsman who was known for his chivalry and steadfastness would follow Rheagar. To him Rheagar was a better option than Robert.

"You don't need to follow him. You can disappear and live your lives the way you want and how you want. Wait until we sort out the things on the top of the tower. Then we can talk more," Theseus said starting to follow Ned to the entrance of the tower.

Just before he passed the doorway, Ned noticed the inner turmoil of Arthur. But in the end the man laid down Dawn and knelt in defeat. He was followed by his partner. Ned sighed in relief as he was able to save the life of Arthur. Despite their short friendship, Ned felt that they were extremely close as they had many thing in common.

"Aymar, heal these people. We'll see whats happening on the top of this tower."

Ned started to rush up the stairs taking three steps at a time, his thoughts only on the piercing scream let out by his sister. He knew that the two Starks were following him after they gave out their orders. He was in a way glad that they showed up. Otherwise many lives would have been lost and he would have been unsuccessful in his endeavour.

He slammed his shoulder against the flimsy door that was separating him from his sister. The door gave way and he rushed in. His eyes welled with tears at the sight that awaited him.

His sister… his baby sister… was laying on a blood soaked mattress. Her entire lower body was coated in blood. To the side was another woman holding a babe in her arms. His mind registered nothing other than the weak broken form of Lyanna. Her face looked pale and she shivered as if she was wearing no protection during winter at Winterfell despite being under the sweltering sun of the Dorne. She looked delirious with all the blood she had lost.

She was the one who was the closest to him in his family. She was the one who knew all of his secrets. And she was the one who soothed him after their mother passed away. He felt his rage bubbling up. It was because Rheagar Targaryen this had happened. He was the sole cause for the misfortune that befell his family.

The sound of the door breaking in seemed to have garnered the attention of Lyanna. She tried to focus on the intruder after weakly raising her head to look towards the door.

"Ned," she exclaimed weakly.

"I'm here, sister," he said rushing towards the bed.

"I'm sorry, Ned… this is all my fault."

"This is not your fault. If it was anybody's it was that blasted Targaryen's," he said fiercely.

"I was the one who left with him. Because of me father… is gone and Brandon…," tears started to our out of her eyes as she sobbed.

"What do you mean? The Targaryen kidnapped you," Ned said in surprise.

"I left with him Ned… now I see the depth of my folly. He never wanted me… he only wanted me to be his broodmare," she started to cry harder. "But… please care for my child. He has nothing to do with my mistakes."

"Child?" Ned asked looking at the middle-aged woman standing silently in the corner. Her teat was being suckled by a new born. Ned could see a tuft of black hair poking out from the blankets the newborn was swaddled in.

"Don't say anything like that. You are going to make it out of here. Then we are going to return home."

"It's too late for me, Ned. I feel the chill in my bones. I will never survive here. Even if I do, do you think your friend will let me live?"

"Robert would never…" He couldn't finish what he was going to say because his sister cut him off.

"She wont survive if she isn't treated at once," a deep tone broke the two siblings out of their pain filled reunion.

"Who is…?" Lyanna questioned trying to focus on the source of the voice.

"Theseus, can you save my sister? Please save her," he almost begged the two strangers. "I will do anything you want."

"I can't save her," Theseus replied breaking his rising hope once again. "But my brother can."

"Please save her," Ned said to the other Stark who had yet to speak a single word to them.

The man named Perseus had been watching them since he arrived in the room intently. He was alternating his gaze between him, his sister and the child in the hands of the wet nurse. His piercing yes bore into his own as if he was reading the minds of the people in the room. His had a lazy demeanour like if he felt everything around him boring.

"Brother?"

"Fine," he spoke out finally. His voice was just as commanding as his brother's. "Move away from her," he said to Ned.

Ned immediately stood up to walk away.

"Ned?" His sister questioned weakly afraid that he would leave her.

"Trust him, Lyanna. He is one of us. I will explain it when you are safe."

Perseus stood by her bed and examined her. He sighed and muttered something under his breath before reaching out his hand. Ned watched in fascination at all his movements. They seemed perfectly coordinated. None of the movements were wasted. These were the characteristics of a veteran warrior. The only person he had seen doing so previously was Arthur Dayne and his brother Brandon.

When Perseus reached out with his hands at the window, nothing happened. He looked at Theseus from the corner of his eye. But the brother of Perseus seemed calm and collected like before. So he focussed his attention back on his sister and Perseus.

Then he saw it. Drops of water droplets started to shimmer around Perseus' outstretched hands. In a dry desert like this where they were now, there wasn't even a single cloud ahead to provide they safety from the sweltering heat. But here just before his eyes, the silent Perseus was utilizing a mind-blowing method to gather water from the air. Ned's thoughts dulled and his mind became sluggish when he saw this act akin to godhood.

They started to gather in a rapid pace until a glob of water was floating on top of Perseus' palm. Ned felt his mouth open up involuntarily. He felt like he was out of his mind for this was the first time he was seeing such a miracle.

'…Magic…" his mind comprehended dully.

Magic was something he was taught to disregard from the first day he had spent in the Eyrie. The Maesters went out of their way to discredit it and prove it didn't exist. But in the North, there were always whispers about its existence. For one, nobody knew how the Wall had gone up. That behemoth was not something that could have been built by had. Then there were the skinchangers and greenseers.

These people had not been seen for centuries. But it didn't mean that they didn't exist. The Stark line was said to be a magically powerful one. He remembered his grandfather speaking of it when he was young. The Starks were famous for their ability to warg. Ned knew for a fact that his sister had the ability to transfer herself into a bird. The other means of magic in their line had been lost to the ages. But this was the first time he was seeing magic other than minor cases of warging in front of his eyes. And this magic was not something documented in the old history tomes in the Winterfell Bookkeep. This was something new.

Her shook himself out of his thoughts to look at the procedure the Stark sibling would administer to save his sister.

Perseus spread the water he had gathered into a thin film over Lyanna covering her entire body with it. Then he placed his hand on her chest. His hands glowed a greenish hue and the film of water started to glow as well.

Perseus' face was one of concentration. Ned could see small breads of sweat emerging from his temples as he focussed his magic. The blood on top of Lyanna's skin diluted into the film of water. The film took a blood red colour.

"Is that… magic?" He stuttered silently at Theseus.

"A form of magic," Theseus replied absentmindedly.

"Can you do it as well?"

"I'm not suited for delicate tasks like Percy. I could drown you and your sister with water though," Theseus said with a small laugh.

Ned felt his scalp tingle at the casual remark of Theseus. He wanted to question more. But the man had returned his attention to the procedure on the top of the bed. He seemed to be studying it in detail.

Minutes passed slowly as bit by bit the film of water was absorbed by Lyanna's body. When Ned could see her face again, she looked much better with her paleness completely subsided. After five more minutes Perseus took his hands off his sister's chest.

"She is fine. But she wont be able to carry another child. Her womb is destroyed because of this unsupervised childbirth," Perseus said walking back. "I'm heading downstairs. There is nothing else here until she wakes up."

"Wait… Lyanna is…" Ned said when he noticed that Lyanna had yet to open her eyes.

"She's sleeping. The toll of childbirth took a lot out of her. She'll wake up in a couple of hours."

"Thank you," Ned said gratefully at the mysterious Stark.

Perseus nodded and headed downstairs without another word.

"Don't mind him. He doesn't speak much around people who he int familiar with," Theseus said to him. "He is extremely chatty once you get to know him. You won't have a better friend than him if you obtain his trust."

"It's all right. I'm grateful for his help. And yours as well."

Ned brushed the cheek of his sister and went towards the wet nurse who was standing frozen in her corner at what she had just seen. These smallfolk were extremely superstitious and since she most likely looking from her features originated from the Crownlands, she would be a devotee of the Faith. And that religion didn't have room for magic as it wasn't something their priests can achieve.

Honestly Ned was glad that she didn't run away screaming when she witness this miraculous feat. Though the woman had a kind submissive face, nobody knew it when it came to the fanatics of the Faith. They were all mindless and easily led according to the whims of the priests.

He slowly pried the babe out of her arms and observed it.

"Looks like a Stark doesn't it?" Theseus questioned looking at the child over his shoulders.

"He does."

The babe had all the features of a Stark. Thick black hair and a slightly long face told them that he was a Sark through and through. The only difference was the purple ring on his grey eyes. That seemed to be the only trait he had obtained from his father.

"You know, you will have to protect him from now on."

"I will… even if it costs me my life. Nobody will harm a Stark again… not under my watch," he replied with determination. Theseus grinned at his remark but didn't comment.

He caressed the face of the child forgetting that his hand were filled with filth as he had spent days on horse without a shower before heading into battle once again at the foot of the tower. But he didn't care for he was overcome with a sense of protection. This child was the same age as his first born of whom he got the news a few weeks back. The child and his mother were safe within the walls of Riverrun waiting for his return.

His child and this child would be brothers of the same family in the future. They would share the same roof to grow up to become respectful men who will command the North after him.

He turned his attention to the wet nurse.

"Who are you?" He asked the shivering woman.

"Freida, my Lord," she answered meekly. "I was brought here by Prince Rheagar to be Prince Aegon's wet nurse."

"That prince is no more. And this child isn't a Targaryen. He's a Stark. He will never be related to those incestual bastards," he growled. Though he was tired of war and ending human lives, he had not and will not forgive Rheagar for what he did. He still lamented that it wasn't him who had ended that bastard's life. But seeing his chest cave under Robert's hammer was a little consolation as he was satisfied with the crushing sound of his born and the absolute disbelief he had on his face at the last moment of his dog life.

He couldn't allow this wet nurse to escape. She knew of the identity of his sister's child. Seeing how Robert went as far as to congratulate the butcher Princess Elia and her children grotesquely, this child would never be safe if his identity was exposed. And that went for his sister as well. She wouldn't be able to claim this child as her own . The moment she did that she would be targeted by many factions within Westeros who would guess the identity of the child sooner or later.

Robert may be his brother in all but blood. But the man was a bloodthirsty tyrant when it came to the Targaryens. He still haven't forgiven Robert for the fates of innocent Princess Elia and her children. Rheagar was his enemy no doubt. But his family was powerless in what he did. They should have been protected and returned to Dorne.

And then there was Tywin Lannister who would do anything in his power with the money he sits on to eliminate the child and his mother. Ned had no doubt that he would con Robert into marrying his daughter. He would gain his wish of a royal grandson and an absolute legacy in the annals of Westeros. Tywin wouldn't let anything get in his way.

"Look after the child for now," he said handing the child to Frieda. Until his sister woke up, the child needed care and he wasn't the best to provide it since he had other matters to deal with… such as the new Starks. Their 'timely arrival' was alarming to him. He would determine her fate after looking at the situation in depth.

"Theo," he called out from the window to Theo Well who was sitting down on a rock since the fight had ended. "Can you come up?"

"I'll head downstairs as well. Come down when you are ready and we'll talk on how to proceed from here," Theseus said before leaving Ned alone with his unconscious sister, her child and the wet nurse.

'Aegon is it?' He asked looking at the sleeping child. 'But from now on you will be nothing but a Stark. You will have a new name and a new home. And I will protect you from every storm in your way until you are ready to face your own destiny.'

Theo arrived inside the room shortly. He glanced around and Ned could see that he had a vague idea on what had happened within these walls. Theo didn't question about the child or the wet nurse. He went straight towards the prone figure of Lyanna and gazed at her affectionately ignoring him.

"How is she?" He asked with concern.

"She is fine. Lyanna is asleep for now. Can you stand guard until I deal with other matters?"

The matters regarding the child and his sister would have to wait until Lyanna woke up. If he was certain about one thin, Lyanna would flip out if he made plans for her without her consent. This entire war was caused because his father didn't consider the lengths Lyanna would go to escape the fate of being married to Robert Baratheon.

"Of course," Theo replied sitting down on a stool by the door after gazing at Lyanna lovingly. He drew his sword out complete alert of his surrounding s ready to leap into action at a moments notice. If he wasn't tired from the fight, Ned was sure he wouldn't even have sat down.

It wasn't a secret that Theo loved his sister. The fact that Lyanna loved him back was a tightly kept secret that only a few were aware of. That was why his father did everything in his power to separate the two so that she wouldn't go down the same path as his brother.

Leaving him in charge of Lyanna's protection was the best option for now. Except for him, he was the one he was certain that would be willing to lay down his life for the safety of his sister. Theo was an amazing warrior. He lacked the finesse and grace of a knight, but he was a devastating force in the battlefield due to his berserker fighting style. Many a night had fallen to his style. Almost all of the Northern clans utilized this fighting style to perfection.

Ned walked down the stairs trying to organize his thoughts and questions that plagued him. He had about a million questions he needed answers for. The first and foremost was why Theseus and his brother was here and were they antagonistic towards him and his family.

He was tired from the war which had lasted more than a year. His family was the one which lost the most and gained the least. He needed to give the nobles under him gifts for their support and loyalty. This expenditure was not something he could bear on his own. Despite his anger at Robert for his cruelness, it seemed that he would have to return to King's Landing, a place that he wanted nothing to do with for every harm that befell his family originated from there.

He sighed stepping out of the crumbling tower into the sweltering sun bearing down on the Red Mountains.

Outside, Ned saw Perseus lying down using a griffin as a headrest. Aymar was absent from his sight and so was the remaining Kingsguard. Theseus was like his brother resting against his griffin in the shadows cast by the large creature.

Ned's party was silently conversing amongst themselves in one corner stealing glances at Perseus and the griffins. Ned knew that this was going to be an interesting conversation. He steeled his heart and walked towards his companions.

Theseus noticed his arrival and sat up straight. "I believe you have many questions you need to ask us. As we have to wait until your sister awakens, ask away… but know that we have the right to not answer particular topics that we aren't at the liberty to discuss."

A/N: What do you think? Follow, fav, comment. Tell me your ideas. Your reviews are what fuels my imagination.

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