Okay so here is Chapter 2. It is un-Betad only I have done the editing. So sorry about any mistakes. I tried to make it less of an Info dump but sadly that is difficult for me to do as I do not notice when I do it. Feel free to leave reviews, I love feedback, I have decided to add a plot element which will allow me to add things from some of the Skyrim DLC's. I have also taken the liberty of altering the magic a bit it, but for the most part I will stay true to ES magic.
ARYA
Black mist spun around her ankles obscuring the smooth ground below her feet. It was tepid to the touch shifting between the fringes of warm and cold. A sweet fragrance hung in the air; it was a gentle nonintrusive smell. Had she been in a normal room, the scent would have put her at ease. She was not in a normal room though. A smell of damp would have been more frightening than the one she currently smelt; at least damp is a smell one expects in the dark. She moved forward, drifting through the black mist, some supernatural force leading her onwards. She could not stop as her legs refused to listen to her.
A bird began to sing. Its song a contradiction, opposing melodies and rhythms combined into one beautifully unattractive sound. The emotions it invoked inside her were impossible to descried with just one word or phrase, Arya knew that even if she had till the end of time she would never be able to truly describe what she felt. The song came from all over and nowhere, as if the bird was on her shoulder singing into her ear and at the same time flying high above her head.
Shapeless shapes moved around her, staying out of her direct line of sight; at best appearing in her peripheral vision. She could feel the shapes getting close and closer, yet when she turned her head to glance backwards nothing would there, just the ever present black mist. Without warning the birdsong stopped. The silence that followed was louder than a room full of drunken guests. Slowly the mist began to ebb away. The force compelling her forward ceased. Her legs, now her own again finally obeyed her brain and she came to an immediate halt.
A figure stood in the mist, a female figure. She was clothed in woven darkness so exquisite that the finest silk in the world would be naught but rags by comparison. A hood and veil covered her face partially. Her true appearance obscured by dancing shadows and the movement of the veil in a non-existent breeze. The figure would put any queen or highborn lady to shame, in just posture and figure alone.
Slowly the figure reached out with her right hand while at the same time bending down to Arya's level. Her palm being neither hot nor cold cupped the youngest daughter of House Stark's face. Arya's fear began to dissipate. The touch reminded her of her mother's soothing hand when she was sick. With her left hand she tucked a flower into the young female's hair behind her ear. A whispering kiss was placed on her forehead. A queer sensation ran through Arya's body, starting at the kiss and running down her frame to the soles of her feet. It made her feel light headed. Arya swayed on her feet. Slowly she tipped back. A nightingale flew past her as she fell.
Bjorn was the first person Arya sought out the next morning, foregoing breakfast in favour of his council. She found the Nordic man working at his desk in his quarters. He was writing in a language she did not recognise. He muttered to himself in a foreign language as he wrote. Most people would assume that Bjorn was just scribbling, but to those touched by the arcana, could feel that there was some magic in the air.
The script he was writing in consisted of scratch like line and dots. It was a rather destructive script and he had a pile of ruined quills growing on his left and side. She waited for him to finish. He was so absorbed in his work that he never noticed her standing by his door. Arya cleared her throat when he lifted his quill from the page. He jumped slightly startled by her presence.
"Arya, what are you doing here at this early hour, our lesson is only much later today." The Nord was one of the few fair haired and skinned people in Winterfell. Numerous scars ran across his arms, some seemed to have been created by a weapon whilst others looked animal in origin. Bjorn had grown a slight beard during his stay at Winterfell, he kept it neat and trimmed though as long beards were only a hindrance in battle and a hazard when working with destruction magic.
"I am aware of that, but I had a strange dream last night. Something about it was off. It didn't feel like my dreams, I had no control over my actions until the very end. It was as if the dream was created by someone else and I was forced to take part in it."
This was certainly strange for Bjorn. Arya Stark was not a seer of any kind, he suspected that Bran might have some prophetic talent, however it was something he had little working knowledge of. Anything beyond identifying potential was beyond his abilities. "Can you explain to what happened in it?"
"I can try. It's difficult though because everything about the dream was contradicting itself. Trying to make sense of it only made it make less sense. There was this bird song, it made me feel so…so…I can't explain it…I just can't, no words can describe it." Arya was getting rather upset with herself, feelings of frustration welling up in her as she searched for words to describe what she felt only to come up short. She took a deep calming breath and continued describing her dream to Bjorn. "There was a lady in my dream. She was dressed in the most gracefully; he clothes would put anything made by a seamstress to shame. The fabric seemed to have been woven from pure darkness… it was enigmatic," Arya's description of the lady was very detailed, or as detailed as she could have made it. Bjorn was beginning to suspect a rather specific person the description progressed. If he was correct it would mean that he had a whole list of new potential problems to deal with. "And then she leaned down, cupped my face and kissed me on the forehead. She also placed a flower behind my ear, but there was nothing there when I woke this morning"
Bjorn froze. He who body rendered unmoving with shock, he blinked once and exhaled in very controlled manner. Things just became infinitely more complicated, never had he heard of such actions being taken by the Night Mistress, people sought her out, rarely the other way around. That flower also meant something, Bjorn's eyes widened considerable when he came to a rather vexing conclusion "Arya, I want you to come to me from now on whenever you have one of those dreams again. I do not care what the time is. If I am asleep then wake me. That dream was not your own. It was a fabrication created to seek you out. Arya you were visited by a Deadric Prince, that flower she gave you was a symbol of another, he sister in fact. The Princes do not seek people out, unless that person is of value to them. I can just thank the fates that it was not one of the other ones."
22222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222
JON
"Come apprentice, time is of the essence." Jon Snow, apprentice of Bjorn, followed his new master out of the Keep in the dead of night. They used one of the more obscure passageways, one that was in disrepair and forgotten about by most. The day after he had spoken to Bjorn about taking the black he was offered and apprenticeship.
He would be a liar if he said he did not shed a shed a few tears when he was formerly offered the position. His father was there to, a great look of approval on his face. The full impact of it did not hit him until much later that day. For the first time in his life he felt wanted, though his father loved him dearly he was never truly welcome in his home. He was slightly older than seven when he along with his brother and father discovered Bjorn.
In the ten years since the Nord's arrival he had grown to see Bjorn as his father. Eddard might have loved him, but it was Bjorn who was always there for him. He would be forever grateful to Bjorn. While Jon's main talent was in living conjuration and frost based destruction magic. Whilst he had only been apprenticed for a week, Bjorn had already gotten him to heal some minor injuries as well as brewing mild poisons that were anaesthetic in nature and not really lethal. "Where are we going?"
"We are going to a place where prying eyes will not see us. For it is dark work that must be done tonight, work that I do not greatly enjoy but sometimes it must be done."
They moved in relative silence. Winterfell having long since disappeared from view as they headed deeper into the woods, the forest drank in the light cast by the moon and soon nothing but pitch black surrounded them. A small ball of light appeared above their heads, "A mage light, one of the few alteration spells I use."
"Will you teach me how to cast that?" asked Jon.
"Had I not wanted to impart most of my knowledge onto you I would have taken someone else as my apprentice," Bjorn had humour in his voice as he spoke, though upon continuation it became of a much more serious nature. "Jon, tonight I am going to show you one of few magics that I will not be teaching you. It is something I will never teach as it is disrespectful to the dead."
The purple light of conjuration magic flared to life in Bjorn's hand. His eyes were closed in concentration, though Jon could see his eyes moving rapidly behind their lids. Bjorn's eyes snapped open and the spell charging up until now launched itself from his hand two meters in front of them.
The spell caused the air to ripple as a purple void like gateway formed. The gateway lasted for a mere moment before collapsing into the ghost of a man Jon had seen beheaded just days prior. At this point Jon was to shocked for words and just starred his mouth hanging open slightly.
"Will of the Night's Watch, I apologize for disturbing your rest."
"You're the one they call Ysimr, so many people died because of you! They curse your name in the afterlife!" shouted the ghost.
"I do not regret my actions; however I have need of you, I did not cause your death that was your own doing, you have no quarrel with me." The ghost wanted to argue but its words died in its mouth, it thought for a second before it decided t otalk again.
"And what would someone as powerful as you want with, and oath breaker such as me?"
"I want Information, no not about the world beyond," Bjorn said before the ghost could interrupt him, "But of the events that caused you to break your oath. I want to know about the thing that attacked you and the men you were with."
The ghost seemed to pale even more, despite how it would not even have been possible for a construct of ether. It answered the question nonetheless. The ghost of Will told its tale. It was not long, but it gave Bjorn enough information to work with to start formulating a plan to deal with this threat from beyond the wall. The White Walkers, known by those below the wall as The Others, were a fearsome race of beings malevolent in nature. Bjorn had read about them, but actual had facts were shrouded in layers of superstition.
"Our weapons could not harm them; they broke when they stuck its skin. There was also a Wight. A wilding ling girl, she was just a walking corpse. After the walker killed the two rangers with me, I ran, I ran and did not stop until there was a wall of ice between me and it. Those glowing blue eyes still haunt me even in death."
"Thank you. I will let you return to rest now. The knowledge you gave me now will save many lives." Bjorn released his hold on the ghost letting it return to the afterlife. The atmosphere in the forest around them had become more menacing that it had been before they entered.
"Come Jon, we must return to Winterfell. Necromancy is one of the few magics that will earn you the ire of nature spirits. We are no longer welcome here tonight. Had our intentions not be good, we would not be able to leave the forest. The magic here is old and unused; I think it would be best before they decide we are good targets to practice on."
They left the forest quickly, Jon having to jog to keep up with the pace the Nord walked at. "I did not know the spirits of the dead could be called back to life. I know you can reanimate a corpse with magic. How did you do it?"
"I will not tell you how, but the knowledge for that spell came from when I consumed an Elder Scroll. The power contained within the scroll is no longer mine, but over the last few years, knowledge that I did not previously possess began to appear in my mind, as if I had studied it and committed it to memory."
"Have you learned anything else besides bringing ghosts back?"
"A few things, but you are not yet ready to know of them. Jon, I will be sending you to The Wall soon as part of your training like we talked about. I have a feeling that certain events in the near future will require my intervention. Onto a less serious topic, as the mood tonight has been rather dark. I have decided to teach you how to create a blizzard. Your talent for frozen destruction is nearly unmatched. I will also be starting a new project. I have decided to create a new type of conjuration spell and I will need your input to finalize the prototype I have planned."
BJORN
Bjorn was bestowed the title of Thane again, a reward from Lord Stark for services to the North. At first he wanted to Knight Bjorn, but he declined. Ned knowing that Bjorn would not accept the title, named him Thane of Winterfell, using his full authority before Bjorn could object. He accepted the title; it would be a unique title, the first Thane in Westeros. He had also taken the emblem of a roaring bear as his family crest, the symbol of the Stormcloaks. He was a proud member of the Stormcloaks, and in some way this would be his way of honouring those who had perished in the war against the Empire.
The air was filled with an almost palpable sense of anticipation. The sky was slightly overcast, the grey light that filtered through sapping the colour from the world. Today was the day the king and his entourage would be arriving. The week leading up to their arrival had been rather hectic; as everyone was rushing about making sure everything was ready to host the royal guests.
The Dragonborn's mood was not that of happiness or even excitement. Several things were weighing down on his mind. He had exchanged ravens with the Lord Commander, and he had agreed to have Jon join them as part of his training. The Lord Commander was very grateful for the medicines sent by Bjorn to aid the watch. His medicine being more potent than anything he had ever seen produced by a Maester. While accepting and outsider to join the watch temporarily was against many laws that the Night's Watch stood for, to turn down the aid of an apprentice of someone like Bjorn would be foolhardy.
The members of House Stark were all dressed and waiting for the sound of approaching horses and carriages. Well most of the members of House Stark stood in the courtyard. Arya Stark was not with them as she had snuck out of the keep to go and see the party before they arrived. Her mother disapproved of her unladylike behaviour however she knew nothing she said to Arya would change it.
"They're almost here!" shouted Arya as she ran up to the group in the courtyard. She was slightly out of breath, but here training with Bjorn had paid off in some regards and she was much fitter than she would have been without his training. Her mother just gave her a disapproving look as she fell in line with the rest of her family. Arya was not wearing the dress laid out for her. Instead she was wearing a set of form fitting black leather, with black boots and gloves; and a charcoal cloak fastened around her shoulders fasted with a silver clasp.
Catelyn did not approve of this clothing at all. A rather large argument had occurred between mother and daughter, which were quelled by Bjorn. Catelyn was told in a rather frank manner that to force women into a specific role was unjust, and that in his travels he has met several females who could best almost any knight. Secretly Bjorn had begun to prepare Arya for her role as the only follower of Nocturnal in Westeros. He was unsure what Azura wanted with the youngest female Stark, however with Azura being one of the more benevolent Princes he was not too concerned.
The king was travelling to Winterfell with a rather obvious purpose. Robert was going to ask his old friend and brother in arms to be the new Hand of The King. He was not sure on how Ned would answer when asked. The lord of House Stark was an honourable man none the less and would act in the best interest of the Kingdom. He could now hear the approach of horses; he could smell them to, having the soul of a dragon tended to sharpen the mortal senses to a degree. The Kings entourage was extravagant; the king himself was riding a horse, which seemed to strain under its riders rather rotund form, whilst his family followed in a wheelhouse of a rather ostentatious nature. They came to a stop in front of the assembled Starks. The king tried and failed to dismount his steed.
"Well, in none of you going to help me?" he asked indignantly. This spurred several of the servants to rush forward and help the king to dismount. The younger members of the assembled group had to bit their tongues to keep them from bursting out in laughter. After finally dismounting his horse Robert walked forward towards Ned. He stopped barely two feet away from the Warden of the North.
"You have gotten fat." The King stated bluntly. Ned's only reply to this was to look at Robert, one eyebrow slightly raised as if to say, 'Not as much as you'. The king's statement caused for a rather pregnant pause before both men burst out laughing. "Catelyn, you are as lovely as ever," said the king as he turned to greet Catelyn.
"Thank you my Lord. You seem to be quite healthy." She replied, the jib at his weight going unseen to most, even the king. Those of higher intelligence got the joke, but remained silent.
"You must be Sansa, you will be a real beauty one day." Sansa blushed at the compliment. "Thank you, your grace, but I am sure my beauty pales when compared to the queen." Robert gave a small grunt of amusement at the obvious sucking up Sansa was attempting.
"You are Bran, if I am not mistaken," Robert stated as he looked at the middle Stark child. "Yes, I am your grace," answered Bran. "I can tell you will be a strong able soldier when you are older."
The King greeted all the stark children rather warmly, giving out some small compliment to each. He stopped when he saw Bjorn standing behind the family. He blinked as if to take in the sheer size of the man technically Nord.
"Who are you?"
"I am Bjorn Svenson of House Kodaav, Thane of Winterfell, your grace, Lord Stark took me into his home ten years ago, I have been a loyal protector of his family since. I am one of the sword and bow masters here at Winterfell. Jon Snow here is my apprentice." Bjorn did not bow, nor did he break eye contact with Robert. This shocked some, but refrained from commenting or acting. Robert had an instant respect for this man. 'This man values people by their actions and not by their titles' the king thought to himself.
"Well you're a right beast of a man," boomed Robert humour clear in his voice. "What is a Thane? I have never heard of such a title in my life."
"I will tell you at a later time your grace, I mean no disrespect but I think your family would lie to disembark and stretch their legs a bit. A month on the road must be tiring even if it is in luxury."
Their conversation seemed to end after that, Robert returning his attention to Ned. "I wish to pay my respects, lead me to the crypts."
"The dead can wait my love; we have been on the road for a month." Robert seemed to completely ignore Cersei's objection, as he followed Ned to the Stark family crypts. The was obvious resent towards Robert coming from the queen. Bjorn did not like Cersei. There seemed to be something foul about her. The sneer on her face disappeared as quickly as it appeared when she spoke to her twin.
"Jaime, go find the lecherous imp of a brother. He won't be that difficult to find," disgust clear in her voice.
It irked Bjorn the way she spoke about her brother. Family was important to Nords, and to speak with such disdain for someone you share blood with was frowned upon by most. The flirtatious smile shared between Joffery and Sansa did not go unnoticed. What most would not have seen however; was the look of determination Sansa was had, she hid it well behind her façade as a timid highborn lady, but underneath she was ambitious and cunning. If the rumors about Joffery's disagreeable nature were true, he would soon be soiling himself. Sansa detested cruelty.
22222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222
SANSA
"Mother, what do you think it is like to be queen?" asked Sansa as he mother helped he with her hair. They were preparing for a feast, in celebration of the kings arrival. "Joffery seems like such a nice boy. I love his golden hair, so different to the shades of brown here in the North," Sansa winced slightly as her mother pulled a bit too tight with one of the segments of the braid.
"I can only but give my best guess. Remember my dear daughter, you will only be queen if your father accepts the position as Hand, and Robert passes on. I would imagine that the role as the queen is much like mine, just with more work and responsibility." Catelyn greatly enjoyed these moments she spent with her eldest daughter. She knew ultimately that her husband would accept the position and leave with Robert to King's Landing, taking Sansa and most likely Arya with him. She reached down for a clip to fasten in Sansa hair, but was stopped by her daughter.
"Wait, use this one instead. Bjorn gave it to me." Bjorn had become very important to her children. She had a love/dislike relationship with him. He brought out the best in her children, but he undermined her authority on a regular basis. The comb clip handed to her was of a strange design, the metal use was gold going by its weight and feel. It looked like a hand with the fingers all ending in flames. Set roughly were the joints would be were small diamonds, with a single diamond in the palm, for a grand total of 14 stones. The diamonds shone and glittered more than any cut stone she had ever seen. This clip would have cost a fortune, but Bjorn never seemed to worry about money, in fact she had never even heard him ask for it.
"This will surely catch the interest of more than one and must have cost quite a bit. I have known the man for ten years and he is still a mystery to me. There all done, I must go and see what your younger sister has been getting up to." As Catelyn left the room, Sansa took out a necklace, the design being of three circles spiralling together in a triangle formation. Encrusted into this one were thirteen diamonds they shone with light similar to those in her hair clip.
Both these items were of great importance to Sansa. They were given to her by Bjorn when he deemed her as an expert in her respective arts. They were lightly enchanted to protect her from poising and projectile weaponry. She had noticed Jon being given a similar gift but his was a rune she did not recognize which he used to fasten his cloak.
22222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222
JON
Jon was outside hack at a training dummy. He was frustrated, for some reason we was refused admittance to the feast. Bjorn stood up for him, but it was for naught. He did not notice it but the ground beneath him had frozen solid, with a thin layer of white frost creeping out around him. His sword also had a layer of frost forming on it, a faint mist drifting off, existing for barely a moment before disappearing. He gave one last swing and cleaved the dummy in two. Panting slightly, he sheathed his sword. His dire wolf pup Ghost sat and watched him silently, his only reaction to his masters actions being a slight tilt of the head.
"One day," he said to Ghost, "One day they will respect me." A new sense of determination filled him and he turned to return to his quarters just as his uncle Benjen arrived. Jon looked at him in surprise. "Uncle, what brings you here?" He greeted.
"Jon, it's been a while, I have some things to discuss with the king and since he is in Winterfell, doing so would be easier in person than with ravens. Why are you outside at this hour, should you not be at the feast?" Benjen said as he dismounted and hugged Jon in greeting.
"Bastards aren't welcome at feasts. Not even those who are apprentices. "
"You are an apprentice?"
"Indeed uncle, I have been one for a few weeks. I have learned much and am quite grateful for being selected to be one."
"Who are you apprenticed to if I might ask."
"I am sure you have heard of the man called Bjorn, who arrived here ten years ago." Benjen nodded. Bjorn's name had travelled rather far throughout the North, even up to the Wall, a man nearly the size of The Mountain. He was known for being generous with gold, and always had something useful for the sick. His remedies he sent to Night's Watch had saved many of his brothers at the Wall.
"Well, I was talking to him about taking the Black, when I asked for his opinion he offered to take me on as an apprentice, I think he sees me as a son of sorts and he did not want me to disappear from his life. I will be going to the wall though. Bjorn has been exchanging ravens with the Lord Commander and I have been given temporary position as a sword instructor and builder at Castle Black."
22222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222
Cersei had a look of displeasure and disgust on her face as she looked at Robert group the serving girl in his drunken haze. She hated the man; he was nothing like the warrior he had been during the rebellion. All he was now was a fat drunk brute, a putrid man with temper. She had gone to great lengths to never bear one of his children. Her children only had Lannister blood. They were her precious little lions.
Catelyn could seeing the mood the Queen was in intervene. "My Queen you look quite lovely tonight, it is impossible to tell that you have been on the road for a month."
"Your hospitality has been adequate. I would have liked my bath in King's Landing but to bring it with me would have been impossible."
"We northerners tend to enjoy a simpler lifestyle than those in the capital." The small talk between the Cersei and Catelyn continued in this fashion, Cersei saying things that in a certain light would be considered rude, but the Lady Stark seemed to ignore those remarks. Sansa chose this interval to make her appearance.
"My, you look beautiful, the dress making you only more so." Complimented Cersei
Sansa blushed at the compliment. "Thank you, your grace." She replied.
"That hair piece and necklace, they are quite striking. Where did you get them?" Cersei was intrigued. The designs of the two jewellery pieces were quite unique and the diamonds set in them would catch anyone's attention.
"They were gifts from Bjorn. He made them, but how he did it I do not know."
"I might have to ask him to make something for me. They are beautiful pieces. How old are you my dear?"
"13, your grace," replied Sansa
"Have you bled yet?" the question was so blunt that Sansa and Catelyn had to take a moment to comprehend what the queen had just asked. Sansa flushed with slight embarrassment.
"No, your grace," replied Sansa, taking the opportunity to curtsey and take her leave. She did not want the queen asking her anymore questions of such a personal nature
"That daughter of yours will do well in the capital. A real lady, a flower as beautiful as her should not be confined to the North."
Catelyn just smiled. Inside she was cringing. If she had learned one thing form the evening thus far it would be that the Cersei, was not all that she seemed. A lion in sheep's clothing.
22222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222
ARYA
Arya watcher her sister flirt with the prince. Personally she didn't understand it. She found Joffery greatly annoying as well as full of himself. He was the original target, but she switched to Sansa knowing that the trouble she would cause would be less severe. In hindsight hitting the prince would have caused her less grief in the long run.
The launch of the food morsel was perfect. It arched through the air, its trajectory easy to see. It struck Sansa in the face with a soft splat. The look of shock was priceless for Arya. She did not expect Sansa's revenge to be so swift though. The candles around Sansa flared slightly, her elder sister levelling her gaze onto her. Without warning Sansa cast a spell at her, Arya knew it was from the Illusion school of magic, but not fast enough to dodge it. The spell moved quickly through the air, the nearly colourless purple spell, going unnoticed by the guests, all of them with vary degrees of intoxication.
Arya's world flipped when the spell hit her. Suddenly everything was inverted; she didn't bother trying to move since she knew she would fall. Fortunately or unfortunately, her mother saw the whole altercation and with a single look had her eldest brother take her away.
Robb carried her under his arm away from the feast. "Arya, will you ever learn?"
"hguone tasf t'nsaw tusj I" came an unintelligible reply.
"She hit you with that inverting Illusion didn't she?" Arya shook her head. "That one is rather nasty, she used it on me once, took three hours to wear off. I am going to put you down just sit on the floor. Give me a second to dispel it from you." Arya waited patiently. She had closed her eyes, but that didn't help much. She still felt as if she was hanging upside down.
Robb, concentrated as ball of light smaller than an apple formed in his hand. The light pulsed out sending a faint wave of light out in a circle around him. The wave washed over Arya and the illusion placed on her dispelled.
"Thanks, I don't see why you don't like being skilled in Restoration. It's so useful. You could heal yourself in the middle of a fight; do you know how much that would demoralise your opponent?"
"I have never thought of it like that. I can't heal broken bones yet though, Bjorn said he will teach me how next week."
Come if you dress differently then maybe you can sneak back to the feast.
22222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222
BJORN
Bjorn was drifting through the crowd at the feast. Sanguine would be so proud at the amount of drinking taking place around him. Though he was not the kind to sleep around, being rather conservative about the whole thing, he did enjoy getting himself severely intoxicated on mead, but due to honey being hard to come by in the North, it was a vice he was rarely allowed to indulge.
He was not paying attention as to where he was walking and walked straight into Jaime Lannister. Jaime though not a man of slight build felt as if he walked into a wall and found himself flat on his arse.
"I ask for your forgiveness, Ser Jaime, I did not see you." Bjorn reached out his hand to help the King-slayer to his feet.
"Think nothing of it; it should have been me who was more attentive and I am sure if you had meant it I would be getting up anytime soon." Jaime accepted the hand offered to him and quickly returned to his feet. Jaime had the looked like and Imperial. Bjorn was sure he would not stand out in The Imperial City.
"My brother in law was right, you are a beast. I felt as I had met with a wall. You may call me Jaime, you seem like a man who does not care much for titles."
"A man is defined by his actions. This land has too many title and not many men are deserving of the one they are given. How are you enjoying the feast?"
"The atmosphere is certainly lively. However I much prefer the celebrations of those in the capital. This kind level of alcohol consumption is more to my brothers liking. I have noticed you drifting about all evening. Do you not enjoy celebrations?"
"I have a lot on my mind. I have learned disturbing news, my apprentice is being denied entry to the feast on account of him being a bastard and the weather here does not favour bees."
"Bastard or not, an apprentice should be allowed, to follow his master. Why does the lack of bees upset you?"
Bjorn smirked. "I see you caught that last bit. Well in simplest terms. Bees make honey, and honey is used to make mead. I like drinking mead; ale and wine are not to my liking. Simple really, though I do have one casket of mead, but I am saving it for a special occasion, and it is not enough for me to get thoroughly smashed on."
"I prefer wine myself. You are one of the sword masters here correct. I must ask what type of sword you use."
"Well I am a Sword and Bow master here. Some of the guards still flinch when they see me approaching. I know you have a reputation as being quite gifted with a sword, so what type of sword do you think I use?" Jaime gave a grin.
"Well master of Bows and Swords, I would say you use a claymore or a long sword, someone of your size could easily over power a smaller opponent with a weapon of that size."
"Then you would be surprise to hear, that I use two one handed swords. I would like to fight against you some day, test my metal against yours."
"Something that I too would enjoy, being the best can be boring, a challenge is always exciting."
22222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222
"Sorry you were not able to attend the feast," said Bjorn to Jon as they were out in the woods. Bjorn had told Jon that they would be heading out to of hunting. This was just a ruse played by Bjorn. He actually wanted to get into contact with a certain Prince.
"It matters not. I know you tired your best to get me inside. What are we hunting by the way?"
"I have not yet decided on what our quarry will be." As they began to move deeper into the woods the ambient light decreased. It made the hairs on the back of Jon's head stand up. "I asked the smith to forge Arya a sword."
"That is kind of you. Why though she can protect herself without one."
"Ah, but I was thinking, no one really knows about our magic, so if she has a sword people will think that's all she can do, so if she is ever in danger she has another option, it is also good to always have weapon, we don't have the magika reserves that you have."
Bjorn laughed at that. He stopped abruptly, Jon nearly walking into his back. He held is hand up. Silencing Jon's question before he could ask it, it was at this moment that Jon realised that there was not a single sound coming from the forest. It was if all sound was being sucked out. His heart began to beat faster as an unknown fear began to stir inside him.
Jon felt like prey. As if some great animal was staring at him form an unseen vantage point, his master remain completely still. His should were tensed and his hands glowed with contained magic, conjuration in one and pulsing frost in the other. Jon heard movement spinning around dropping his bow and drawing his sword. He was surprise to see nothing. It was then that he felt a presence behind him, he turned slowly.
The presence turned out to be a humanoid significantly taller than Bjorn. He was dressed in leathers and his head was adorned with a deer skull, obscuring his face. In his hand was a spear. Standing next to him was a massive wolf, too big to be of a natural origin. The power that rolled of the man was enough for Jon to almost wet himself. He required all his willpower to keep his pants dry.
"Dragonborn, why does one as faithless as you call upon me?" The figure spoke in a deep baritone. "My power is limited in this world."
"Lord Hircine, I am honoured that you would answer my call. I can see you are having great difficulty staying in this plane. I will not keep you long." Bjorn spoke with a tone of respect, one that Jon had not heard from him in a long time.
"What do you want from me mortal?" Hircine's voice now possessed a slight tinge of annoyance.
"I am no longer some mere mortal. Technicalities aside, I wish to have the Wolf's blood. Not for myself but people who would benefit from the blessing. I would also think that a few followers here would do you well. "
"Interesting request, I shall grant it. This world has not had a proper hunt, and your willpower to meet with me will not be enough for me to enter the plane whenever I want to." In Hircine's hand appeared a spherical flask filled with a red blood-like substance.
"Thank you; I will start the rumours which will bring you your first followers in this world."
Hircine, gave a curt nod. "May you be successful in your endeavours."
Jon blinked and Hircine was gone. "I am impressed; your first meeting with one of the Princes and you didn't shit yourself."
"I wasn't aware that they could come here."
"They can't actually; they need worshippers to give them strength to enter this realm. I won't put my faith into the higher beings, they are rather fickle, and I carve my own path. It was not belief that allowed Hircine to enter this plane, it was my determination in the fact that I know he is real. It was the actions of Nocturnal that gave me the idea of trying to bring one here."
"What did Nocturnal do?"
"It is not my story to tell, nor is it finished yet. Don't worry though; I'm sure you will be informed once the pieces start to move."
Bjorn's gut had a sinking feeling. Something had happened while they were gone. Subconsciously he had been quickening his pace to the point where Jon was jogging lightly to keep up with him.
His gut proved him right because the castle was in a commotion when master and apprentice arrived at the keep; people were running about like chickens without heads. Bjorn's presence in the courtyard was instantly felt. A male voice called out to them
"Bjorn!" it was Robb who had been shouting. His eyes filled with fear and hopelessness. Bjorn grabbed the youth by his shoulders and held him still. "Please save him. I did everything I could but he won't wake up." He was on the verge of crying. His unshed tears caused by frustration and the feeling of failure. Bjorn pulled him into a hug.
"Hey it is all right, I am here now. Who was hurt?" Bjorn's voice was soft. It brought Robb great comfort, taking him back to the times when he was sick and Bjorn tended him alongside his mother. "Bran fell… He fell so far… His back, I tried my best I couldn't heal him. Please you need to help him."
Upon hearing that Bran fell, all colour drained from the Nord's face. If Bran fell it was from one of the high towers. Bran was also very sure footed, so something must have caused him to fall. His demeanour changed, becoming strangely calm.
"Where is he now?" He asked voice still soft but with a keen edge.
"In his roo-" Robb was interrupted before he could finish.
"Jon, I want you to take Robb to my study. On the floor next to the bookshelf is an urn. In it are three scrolls. Bring all three to Bran's room, and charcoal. Robb look at me. I will save him. I am proud of you. Now stop worrying and go with Jon and get those scrolls."
The door leading to passageway to Brans room exploded from its hinges. Not caring for the few splinters it earned him. He would have it repaired later, but if they didn't want it destroyed it should have opened when tried the handle.
The mood in Bran's room was tense. His mother was at his side stroking his hair; her eyes closed her lips moving in silent prayers. He cleared his throat. Catelyn stop and looked at him. Her eyes red and puffy with tears, "Please save him. Robb did what he could. I beg you please save him."
He answered her in the tone he used when comforting people. "Cat, I will save Bran, he is an important and special person to me too."
"Bjorn we found the scrolls you were asked for." Said Jon with Robb closely behind him, Sansa was with them too.
"All right, Catelyn you will need to leave the room, you can stay outside the door, but I will need people with magicka," Catelyn nodded her head and got up moving out of the room quietly, knowing that here hovering over his shoulder as he worked would not save her son. Bjorn turned to the three at the door. "Sansa I am glad you came, your help will be appreciated. Hand me those scrolls please."
Bjorn unrolled them, intricate runes written in complex patterns written on them. "Jon, I know you will recognise this. I want you and Sansa to copy them onto the outside of the door and the adjacent walls on either side of the door inside the room. This one goes onto the door and these two the wall. Use charcoal to draw the runes. Finalize the schemes with a drop of blood in the centre, it will cause the runes to straighten and centre themselves, but do not push any magic into them. I don't want those schemes active yet. Robb I need to keep Bran from bleeding out. I am going to cut open his back so that I can make sure his bones heal correctly and don't damage his spine."
The three youths sprang into action, Jon producing the needed charcoal from his apprentice pouch. Robb turned his brother onto his stomach and removed his shirt gently.
Small blade appeared in Bjorn's hand, ethereal in nature. He cut carefully using just enough pressure to open the skin. The bones in Bran's back were shattered by his fall. Thankfully Robb's magic had healed his nerve tissue and organ damage rather nicely. Magic was a strange thing, when given a purpose it would usually do things that were beyond the casters knowledge, almost as if it were sentient to some degree. Restoration itself worked best on living tissue, healing what the caster intended back into its most natural position, bone being dead to a certain degree made them difficult to heal with magic. Bones required a unique type of Restoration spell to be healed properly.
The yellow white glow of healing magic sprang to life between Bjorn's hands; it had a green tinge on the outer edges. The Nord knew he had to act fast. Robb was already straining on keeping Bran's blood from running out of his body, having taxed his reserves saving his little brother from the brink of death. Like building a three dimensional puzzle, the pieces of bone started aligning in place. The magic guiding them to the correct position, it took time and Robb was nearly passed out from exhaustion nothing but pure willpower keeping him going.
With the final bone set into place Bjorn focused his magic on healing the bone itself. The cracks between the bones shone with magic. Slowly the light and the cracks began to fade, leaving whole bone. "Robb, you can stop now, I can heal the rest."
Robb collapsed on the floor next to his brother's bed. His reserves having run completely dry. Bjorn now focused on healing all the connective tissue, muscle and finally skin. He worked carefully on each layer leaving nothing but smooth unscarred skin when he was done.
"Done, he is healed. Now I need to bring him back to the land of the wakeful. But first I need to get Robb to a bed" Bjorn pick Robb off of the floor, carrying the eldest Stark child to his room with great ease, Sansa and Jon following behind him.
"Bjorn, those rune schemes we had to draw. I know what some of the runes are used for. Why would you want us writing containment runes on Bran's door?"
Robb was placed onto his bed gently by Bjorn. "Jon you know that person we met earlier. He gave me something. That something will be the final piece to healing Bran. He gave me the Blood of The Wolf. Drinking it will curse of bless the consumer with lycanthropy. The first transformation is rather violent; I don't want to set a werewolf loose in Winterfell."
"You went out seeking Hircine didn't you," accused Sansa. Her eagerness for magic caused Bjorn to tell her about the Princes much earlier than he planned to tell any of the other children. "I can't believe you managed to bring a Prince into our realm. I want to hear how you did it but you can tell me later."
"I planned on offering it as a choice to the members of House Stark, but I will unfortunately have to take Bran's freedom to make that choice himself away." They returned to Bran's room. He looked much better now. The colour having returned to his face but he would still not wake, Catelyn having taken the liberty to try waking him with smelling salts while they returned Robb to his room.
"Catelyn, if I said I can bring Bran back healthier and stronger than ever, what would you say?"
Catelyn took a few seconds to think before she answered, "What are the consequences?" She was no fool. She knew the old tales, when dealing with certain magic there was always a give and take. Just because Bjorn was like family didn't mean there would not be a price, though if the price was too steep he wouldn't have offered.
"Bran would be a werewolf. A human who can turn into a ferocious lupine beast at will. However he will be more animal than man on nights of the full moon. When the moon turns red he would become even more so."
Catelyn contemplated this. Who knew when Bran would wake? If he would ever wake, she felt so helpless when they brought him in. She prayed to the gods to help and they did. Now she was being offered a sure thing. But could she do this to her own child…?
"Do it, you said you can save him. I will take the blame and his hatred if he is unhappy."
"Very well, I am going to ask you to leave the room again. Jon, Sansa please active the schemes written on the walls. I will activate the one on the door."
From one of his pockets Bjorn removed the vial given to him by Hircine. The liquid inside brighter than before, he opened Bran's mouth tilting his head back and dripped five drops into his mouth. He quickly closed the youth's mouth hand sealed the vial again. He began to move back quickly from the bed towards the door. He was the last one to leave the room.
The first twitch started when he got to the door. The twitch became a jerk, which became violent shudders and spasms that passed through Brans body. The young Stark's eyes flew open. What Bjorn looked into where not human eyes. No they were the eyes of a wolf, filled with animalistic fury. Bran lunged at Bjorn, who slammed the door shut. The final rune scheme glowed with arcane energy. The three now active rune schemes sent out lines, encircling the room and door. The door shuddered as the beast on the other side tried to break through but the scheme held it firmly shut. No one would be able to enter or leave that room as long as the runes remained active.