Apologies for the long delay on this chapter, got distracted by various things, and I underestimated both the workload of writing multiple perspectives and the amount of research I'd have to do to try and get character reactions and personalities correct.

Beta reader: Eragong

Chapter 5: Arrival

The trek back to Winterfell passed with agonising slowness. Of the dozen guards they had travelled out with, six had been beyond Cae's ability to save, and while the rest had been healed, the six bodies resting on a rough sled behind the group was a grim reminder of how close the battle had been. Lord Stark and Robb took shifts alongside the surviving guards to pull the heavy sled. The weapons of the raiders were piled alongside the fallen guards, drawing nervous glances from the survivors every few minutes.

The three adventurers were spread out around the caravan, keeping watch for another attack as the group limped back to safety. M'rissi's bow swept along the treeline as it receded behind them, her eyes narrowed to slits as she followed behind the sled. Cae and Landon took both flanks, a pair of healing potions had been enough to soothe the convulsions in his throat, and a pair of his most powerful Shouts stuck in his mind as he watched the landscape before them. Lord Stark had refused to allow Jon to help in pulling the sled, and the boy stood close to Cae, carrying her knapsack as she focused on restoring her reserves.

Winterfell coming into sight sent a wave of relief through the group, and they quickened their pace, and soon spotted a group of soldiers riding out to meet them. The head of the soldiers, a man clad in dull blue-grey plate leapt from his horse as they closed, rushing in towards Lord Stark, who strode towards him.

"My Lord! We caught sight of you from the walls, we will provide an escort back to the castle." The man said, quickly ordering his men to give the group a close escort. A pair of soldiers rode up to the sled, taking up the ropes and tying them to the saddles of their mounts, giving the guards a break from the grim labour.

Jon was quickly spirited off to be inspected by Maester Luwin when they got within the walls, along with the guards who Cae had healed after the fighting. While the bodies were being taken for dressing before their funerals, Eddard and Benjen collected the discarded weapons from the raiders, taking them into the First Keep; placing them down as Cae and Landon began their examination.

"This is a quicksilver alloy," Landon pronounced quietly, after inspecting one of the arrow heads for several minutes. "There is only a small amount, but it seems like it was enough to improve the temper. These were made by a skilled weaponsmith." He carefully set them aside, looking over towards Eddard and Benjen. The two men stood, silent and grim, by the door out of the near-abandoned keep, "A good blacksmith might learn a lot from looking at these, possibly even reforge them into something more weighty than individual arrowheads." He turned to M'rissi, who was examining her damaged boot, the arrow had sliced straight through the sturdy leather that protected the ankle. "It explains why it cut through it so easily; pass it over here?"

M'rissi handed the boot over, and Landon quickly took a small clay pot from his backpack, opening it to reveal a lard-like substance which he quickly rubbed into the leather around the puncture.

Once that was done he conjured a small flame in his palm, holding it close to the fat, which began to hiss and spit, before sinking into the dark leather. As they watched, the leather began to twist and warp, and the edges of the puncture began to shrink as the leather replaced the lost material, leaving a smooth, unblemished surface after a few minutes. Benjen and Eddard watched the process with interest, but quickly turned their attention towards Cae as she finished her examination of the blades the attackers had wielded.

"Powerfully enchanted," she spat with disgust as she cast the weapon back into the pile in front of her. M'rissi hurriedly padded over to her, "She thinks they are useful then, yes? For gold or battle?" The Khajiit picked up one of the blades, looking at the crimson shimmer across its surface.

Cae shook her head sharply in reply, "No, these were enchanted at the level of a grand soul. There are no Falmer, Draugr, or dragon priests in this land, according to the records I looked through at Castle Black." She looked up at Benjen and Eddard, "I do not think any such things roam your lands, yes? No blind cave-dwelling savages? The reanimated remains of dragon-worshippers? Ancient priests?"

At their expressions, Cae continued, "Unless these assassins slaughtered entire herds of mammoths, or were hunting Others beyond the wall, there is only one source for the enchantments on these weapons."

Landon nodded slowly as he moved closer to the group, "Black souls. They had the mace."

"You use souls to put magic into your weapons?" Eddard asked carefully, "That sounds… foul."

"White souls are those of lower beings, beasts, mindless creatures, livestock; after they are used for enchantment, the soul is released to reenter the cycle," Cae gestured towards the stack of weapons with a grimace, "Black souls are the souls of higher beings, Man, Mer and Beastfolk. Using a black soul in such a manner banishes it to the Soul Cairn."

Landon visibly recoiled at her words, immediately drawing the attention of the two men, who turned to him in concern. "It's a dark place, of dark magic," he muttered quietly, "When I went there with Serana, we saw terrible things. I never wish to return."

After he finished speaking silence hung in the room for almost a minute as the group contemplated their findings. Eddard finally spoke up, gazing back down at the weapons, "How many people?" He murmured quietly, kneeling down to rest a hand on a blade, "How many of my people did they kill?"

Cae leant forwards from where she was sat, gently resting a hand on his shoulder, "My best estimate is at least thirty, but likely more."

He clenched his fists, pressing one down on the cold metal, before replying in little more than a whisper, "I will have these weapons sealed in the crypts. We shall not use them, and I will have patrols sent to the eastern villages to ensure their safety." He slowly stood up, taking a deep calming breath before looking at the adventurers, "How did this happen?"

As the door closed behind Eddard, Landon sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Benjen had done his best to calm his brother's fears but the explanation of exactly how they had arrived, and the being that had sent them, had hammered on Eddard's nerve. Not just a demon, but one of the most powerful beings in existence; it had taken a fair amount of persuasion to stop Eddard requesting the travelers leave Winterfell immediately, before they attract more assaults upon his people. The Others and the threat they posed were a key part of soothing his dismay, but he had still requested that the three adventurers not stray beyond Winterfell's walls without his consent.

"What do we do now?" asked M'rissi quietly, she was sitting on a wide ledge just below one of the First Keep's narrow windows, her amber eyes watching Landon carefully through the gloom of the evening light. For all her bravado and confidence, she was still the youngest of their party, and the most inexperienced with heated arguments like the one that had just occurred.

Cae cut in, before Landon could reply, "I will continue researching what I can in their library, if we are to remain here until their King arrives, at the earliest, I should use what time we have to learn what I can about their nobility and their customs." She had started packing up the enchanted weapons during the argument, preparing them for the Stark guards to take to the catacombs later. "Lord Stark has learned of things that would shake the sturdiest of mer and men, I suspect he will settle in time."

"Agreed," Landon added, "If he wants us to stay within the walls, we will, but that doesn't mean we can't do anything at all. I know we don't usually travel together," He paused to acknowledge the nods from the others, "If I had Lydia, and Cerwiden here, I don't think I would hesitate to head north and deal with the Others directly." He sat down heavily against a wall, looking across at the two of them, "I'm sorry," he began, "Neither of you two asked to be here; you'd much rather be in the College," he said with a gesture towards Cae, "And you would much rather be back in Solitude with Inigo, S'ahara and Kasia. I'd much rather you were there as well," he continued, turning towards M'rissi, "The Corruptor wanted me, you two shouldn't be here at all." He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment, before starting to speak again, his voice regaining some of its firmness, "But we're all here now. Cae, if you want to head to the library in the morning, I will go to the courtyard to see what I can learn of their soldiery. M'rissi…"

The Khajiit cut in over his hesitation, "She can explore, speak with people, learn what cannot be found in dusty books and clashing steel, yes?"

Landon nodded his agreement, and the three of them headed out of the door, carrying the weapons away.

Early the next day, the barks of an instructor and the clatter of wooden weapons drew Landon back to the main courtyard, where Robb, Jon, and a third boy were being put through their paces by a greying be-whiskered man. Robb caught sight of him almost immediately as he stepped into the courtyard, letting the third boy score a painful strike on his ribs with the heavy wooden swords they were practicing with. Jon raised his sword in a salute as Landon approached, "Ser Landon," He said respectfully, "I wanted to thank you for what you all did yesterday."

The master-at-arms moved forwards to greet him, "Jory told me what happened yesterday, and it seems like you impressed the little lords as well," the man gestured behind him towards Jon and Robb, "If you're here for practice, they could use a proper demonstration spar, if you're willing."

"I'd be willing, though I'd need to borrow a blade; mine are weapons of war, not practice," Landon informed the man, "I was actually hoping to see how the warriors of Westeros fought, this should be a learning experience." With his permission, Landon perused the racks of blades that had been brought out of the armory for the training session. It took a few minutes before he found one he was satisfied with, but eventually the heft of a slightly longer blade met with his satisfaction and he turned to walk back towards the training square. "Been a while since I've used a steel weapon, should be good practice,"

The master-at-arms laughed, "I saw the weapons you handed off to the guards, not one of them was steel; anyway, I know your name Ser, I am Ser Rodrick, master-at-arms of Winterfell. Raised blades until first blood?" At Landon's nod, Rodrick gestured for Robb to step forwards, "Alright, count us off lad, on three, then we begin."

Landon watched the knight's stance as Robb began his count, the man fought in the same style as his lord, with a dagger in one hand, and a longsword in the other; a counter to his own shield and arming sword. He widened his stance slightly as the count reached three, Brynjolf used similar weapons, and he hoped that Rodrick fought in a similar way to the old nord. As soon as Robb finished the count, the two men began circling around the edge of the arena, watching each other for openings.

The first exchange came suddenly, both men rushing forwards; Rodrick's sword swung high, and his dagger swept in low beneath Landon's raised shield. A ring of steel echoed around the courtyard as Landon's borrowed sword deflected the dagger to the side, while a swift slam forwards with his shield sent Rodrick stumbling backwards, keeping his blades raised in defence as he regained his footing. Landon quickly pressed his advantage, keeping his shield raised as he marched forwards, his blade darting out in swift jabs to keep Rodrick on the backfoot.

As he came close to the edge of the square, Rodrick swung his blade against Landon's as it came out for another thrust, sending it far wide; before slamming his shoulder against the raised surface of Landon's shield; sending the adventurer staggering backwards in turn. His dagger clattered against the heavy mail guarding the warrior's side, and he retreated just in time to avoid another painful bash from the shield. Landon took the momentary break to pull his sword arm back in from where Rodrick had knocked it, holding the blade behind his shield as he advanced once more.

The aging knight rushed in again, attempting to hook his dagger around Landon's raised arm to bring it down for his sword to score a decisive hit. As he felt the dagger catch on his armour, Landon let his shield arm go limp completely, dropping it to his side, and pitching Rodrick forwards as he pushed against resistance that suddenly wasn't there. Landon's sword lashed out from behind his shield, carefully nicking across Rodrick's raised swordhand. As soon as he felt the touch, Rodrick raised his sword up into the air and stepped backwards, breaking off the spar.

"That was a dirty trick, but a good one, well fought Ser." The master-at-arms acknowledged, nodding towards Landon before looking towards his three students, "Robb, Jon, Theon, did you see what happened there?"

Theon answered immediately, "He realised what you were trying to pull his shield down, so he let you, and the lack of resistance left you overextended."

At Ser Cassel's nod, Jon volunteered, "He hid his blade behind his shield so you couldn't see where he planned to strike, and his helmet concealed his face, so you couldn't use that as a guide."

Landon gave an affirmative grunt as he took his helmet off, "Information control is useful in any battle, even if Ser Rodrick had a good idea of where my sword was going to go, he had to be on guard for me to do something else with it, reducing his ability to focus on other things."

Robb answered last, gesturing towards the borrowed blade, "He hesitated with every strike, more than just from using a new weapon, it was like you expected something else to happen every time you swung." The blade had a small chip from where it had clashed edge to edge with Rodrick's. Landon nodded at Robb's observation, before gesturing towards the blade on his back, "I've fought with Kren for close to a decade now, I probably should have trained with mundane weapons more than I have."

He reached back to take the dragonbone blade from its sheath, and Rodrick's brows rose at seeing the faint glimmer of red on the yellowish blade.

"Ser, do you mind if I break this training sword?" Landon asked him politely, angling the damaged blade down towards the dirt. Once Rodrick gestured for him to continue, he drove the sword into the earth between his feet, before taking Kren in one hand and swinging it into the side of the blade.

The impact left a deep gash in the steel of the blade, but as the Westerosi watched, rust and decay quickly spread from the wound in the metal, warping the weapon to near uselessness; a second swing of the bone blade took the hilt clean off, sending it tumbling to the ground as the metal rusted to uselessness. Ser Rodrick let out a low whistle, "I'd be interested to see what a weapon like that does to Valyrian steel, though I doubt you'll find any southron lord willing to risk his family's treasure on such an errand." He kicked the remains of the blade with an armoured boot, crumbling it to flakes of ash, before turning back to the three boys, "Alright, weapons up, time to get back to training," He glanced toward Landon, "Ser Landon, if you want to watch, there are benches set up over there for just that purpose."

Landon nodded and settled down on one of the benches, watching the swordplay with interest.

Winterfell's library was well-kept and surprisingly large, Cae discovered as she quietly entered the room within the Library Tower. She could hear some quiet voices behind a large pair of bookshelves at the far end of the room, but the room was otherwise deserted. The books seemed to be sorted by topic and then age, and it didn't take long for her to pick out several volumes on noble etiquette and history, as well as the noble houses of the North. She placed the books on a wide table near the centre of the large room, carefully moving the candles to the side before conjuring a small ball of light to provide more reliable illumination.

The Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, unified beneath the iron throne of the Targeryans, seemed to be a system quite similar to the holds of Skyrim, albeit in a larger scale, and without the shield of the Imperial Legion; their levy system was similar to the methods used by the Ayleid Empire and the human settlements that formed out of the colonisation of Skyrim. Professional soldiers were rare, and were either mercenaries, nobility, or the personal retinues of the nobility. The rest of the military was filled out with armed peasantry; a sharp contrast to the regimented legions and professional armies that formed the fighting cores of modern Tamriel.

Westeros' recorded history was enough to fill an entire bookshelf of the library from floor to ceiling, and even the abbreviated tome was the largest of the books she had collected. The records of civilisation upon Westeros went back even further in years than the dawn of the Merethic Era on Tamriel, they had lived on the continent for nearly twelve thousand years, while her own people's history barely reached back seven thousand.

She spent hours analyzing the manuscripts, the Dawn Age had many similarities to the arrival of Ysgramor from Atmora, and the ensuing war between the Atmorans and the Falmer; though the First Mens' invasion of Westeros came to a happier ending. The terror of the Long Night and the efforts of the heroes that brought it to an end stood as the greatest threat that the First Men faced until they were conquered by the Andals; who truly formed the Kingdoms.

"Lady Cae," Her head snapped up from the records towards the voice, the eldest Stark daughter, along with a thin aging woman had emerged from the far end of the room. The girl quickly curtsied, earning an approving nod from the old woman beside her. Cae rose from the desk and returned the curtsey with her own, "Greetings, Sansa, wasn't it?" The girl nodded, and she continued, "I hope I wasn't disturbing you both, I thought it best if I learn what I can of your customs, lest I cause your Lord-Father some embarrassment in the coming days."

"That sounds like an excellent precaution, my lady," The older woman replied, "I am Septa Mordane, I am Sansa and Arya's tutor. It is pleasing to see a foreigner so willing to adapt to our customs, rather than insist upon their own." The woman gave Cae an imperious nod, "You may find texts on the faith of the Seven useful as well; if They are willing, you may even see the truth in their tenets."

Cae paused momentarily before replying, "I will take that under advisement, Septa. Personally, I adhere to-" She cut herself off as the door to the library opened, and a mop of dark curly hair stuck through the opening. "Lady Cae, I was told tha-" Jon broke off as he caught sight of Sansa and the Septa stood with Cae, "Oh, I apologise, Septa, Sansa, I was hoping to speak with Lady Cae about something."

Mordane brushed off his apology with a sharp wave of her hand, "We were just leaving, Snow, come along, Lady Sansa. We shall let them have their conversation."

Jon quickly stepped out of the way as the Septa marched Sansa out of the library, heading out towards the courtyard; the younger girl spared a quick glance at both Cae and Jon, before the door closed behind her.

Cae took the opportunity to clear up some of the clutter she had created on the table, before gesturing Jon towards a nearby chair, "What is it you wish to talk about Jon?" She asked politely as he took the chair, clasping his hands in his lap carefully.

He took a breath, before raising his head to look at her head on, "I want to learn magic."

M'rissi took a quick step back as a pebble clattered down the outside of the First Keep, knocked clear by one of the younger Stark boys who seemed to be climbing up the weathered stone of the ancient fortress. Another falling cobble sent her leaping backwards again, and after a quick scowl upwards, she leapt up onto the wall, the hardened claws at the tips of her fingers digging easily into the crumbling pointing around the old stones. The boy seemed to hear the noise, turning to stare down in shock as M'rissi scrambled up the wall towards him, easily managing to scale the rough surface, until she was nearly at the same height as the Stark.

"You almost hit her! She thinks you should be careful." Her reproachful tone broke the boy out of his shock, and he deftly moved across the wall to climb into a window on the old building, with M'rissi close behind him.

The room inside was dim, lit only by the light coming in through the window. Aged wooden furniture was scattered around the room covered in a thick layer of dust, M'rissi took a quick glance around the room before deciding to stay near the window, where it was clean.

"Sorry." The boy, Bran, she recalled, said sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his head, "I didn't think anyone was below me." He hesitated, looking at M'rissi, "So… You're one of those travellers, the ones who came with uncle Benjen?"

The Khajiit gave him a quick nod, before starting to pick shards of stone from under her claws, "She is the prettiest and strongest of them, yes." She stopped inspecting her nails and flexed her arms, stirring a short laugh from the boy.

"I don't know about strongest, I saw Ser Landon sparring with Ser Rodrick before I started climbing. I think he could give the Kingslayer a good fight." Bran swung his arms around as if wielding a sword, "Just break his weapon and make him yield, I think it'd be a short fight."

M'rissi nodded, "He is a good fighter, but M'rissi is better with a bow. He can barely hit the targets!" The two of them laughed at that, but as M'rissi went to add more, the door to the room burst open in a cloud of dust, revealing a short, slight girl with shoulder length dark hair who immediately stepped towards the pair.

Bran raised a hand in recognition, "Arya, I think the door was unlocked, you didn't need to bash it, did you see us climbing?"

His sister shot him a small smile of recognition, before turning to M'rissi, "You're one of the strangers, right? That came with Uncle Benjen? And scared Father yesterday?"

M'rissi paused under the barrage, "She is pretty sure she is, unless she has become a different person in the last few moments." Bran laughed at that, and M'rissi smiled as the girl drew back slightly, before speaking again.

"But, you're a warrior right? Is that normal in your lands? Are there others like you?" The girl was practically vibrating as she awaited the reply.

"There are no others like M'rissi." The woman replied seriously, and the girl wilted, "But there are other warriors who are women, yes." Bran laughed as his sister scowled at the smiling Khajiit, "She thinks you would like Aela the Huntress; she is a member of the Companions in Skyrim. She is one of the best fighters M'rissi knows, and M'rissi knows a lot of them. There is also Lady Serana, Njada, Ria, Landon's housecarl Lydia… There are many in Skyrim."

"Can you teach me?"

The question threw M'rissi off for a moment, "She hasn't taught before. Do your people here not do the teaching?" She waved an arm towards the open window, the voices and clashing of steel still echoing up from the courtyard.

The girl shook her head, "Mother doesn't want me to fight, it's not 'ladylike'," the word was said with a sneer of distaste, "If I want to become strong, I need to do it myself, find my own teachers, and do my own training."

M'rissi tapped her jaw while she considered the proposition, "She thinks she will teach you, but she cannot guarantee how long she will stay here with Landon and Cae, we may be leaving soon, or we may not, she doesn't really know. Is that alright?"

The slight girl nodded fervently, "I'll take any help you are willing to give."

"Just keep your big dogs away from her."

The chill of a northern morning did little to dull the hubbub of the gathered crowd in the courtyard; the entire household had turned out to greet King Robert's party. The golden banners of the column were visible almost an hour before their arrival as it slowly crept down the hillside into the winter town; Jory had ridden out with an honour guard the day before, and now they stood either side of the front of the group as it reached the walls of Winterfell. Hundreds of riders streamed into the large courtyard, knights, sworn swords and freeriders quickly beginning to dismount as servants came forward to take charge of the horses.

The first riders drew the most attention however; an immense man flanked by two knights clad in cloaks as pale as falmer hide. His horse looked fit to buckle under him as he threw himself from the saddle with a roar, striding over to Lord Stark to grab him in a tight embrace. As the large party busied themselves with their mounts, and the Queen and her children walked through the wide gate of the castle; their carriage being too large for even the gates of Winterfell to let pass, stalking over to the gathered Starks and the King to make small talk before quickly heading into the keep, while Lord Stark took King Robert in a different direction.

"You there, dornish, take my horse." A young blonde man clad in riding leathers clicked his fingers in a gesture towards Landon, "And you, maids, I want a bath drawn immediately to wash the filth of the road off of me." He paused to wait for a response, before clicking his fingers again, "I'm talking to you!"

Landon glanced over at Cae, "And this is why we should have worn our armour." He turned back towards the man, "We aren't servants; I am the martial tutor for the older Stark children, my companions have similar roles. The grooms and maids will get to you in time."

The blonde man's face purpled as his lips drew back into a snarl, before a hand clapped down on his shoulder, "Tyrek, I hope you aren't causing trouble for our hosts already. Lord Stark is a good friend of Robert, after all. It would make your tasks as a squire rather more difficult, wouldn't it?" A second man taller and older than the first, and wearing a snow-white cloak, gently pushed the now ashen-faced rider back towards his horse. "Go along now, they'll get to you soon."

The cowed man quickly hurried back to his horse, and the newcomer looked over the three adventurers, "Did I hear that right though? You're the Stark combat tutor?" He gestured back over his shoulder towards where the Stark honour guard was dismounting, "I heard from the head of the guards that Lord Stark sent that the new tutor was a warrior without equal. I'll be looking to put that to the test while I'm here, there was another great dornish swordsman once, he taught me much of what I know."

Cae pulled her hood down as she replied, "If I am correct from my readings, you would be Ser Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard," She dipped into a short curtsey, "I am Carerane Thaoran, of Asshai-by-the-Shadow; I serve as a tutor in foreign matters."

If the Lannister was unnerved by her appearance, he showed no sign of it as he dipped his head in response, "Charmed. It isn't often we see one of the mages of Asshai in Westeros." He quickly turned his attention back to Landon, ignoring Cae's polite reply, "It could be quite a boon for the Stark boys, getting the chance to see one of Westeros' best swordsmen in battle."

Landon shrugged his reply, "I am Landon Dovahkiin. If you wish to spar, I suspect it will have to wait until after the welcoming feast," He raised an arm to point to the large doors of the great keep, where the rest of the arriving nobility were beginning to filter in. "It would be a shame to be absent when Lord Stark has put so much effort into it."

The Lannister laughed, and turned towards the hall, "Let us go then, we can spar once everyone has sobered up on the morrow."