Chapter 5

This chapter has been update and beta by Shrine Keeper of Rei Ayanami as of 10/28/2018

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-Winterfell – 294AC -

In the training yard of Winterfell, two young men practiced with blunted swords. Of the two the younger man was on the attack, relentless in his drive to defeat his senior while the older merely smiled away uncaring of the outcome. As the younger of the two hacked away, flowing from one attack to another, struggling to gain even a hint of an advantage over the older it seemed as if he would never succeed.

Jon Stark, former bastard of Eddard Stark, Warden of the North, was having a hard time against his older brother Lelouch in their daily spar. Just two years ago Jon had been so much better at using both sword and bow than his brother that he believed Lelouch would never be his equal. Today seemed to be the death knell of that final hope. While on most days he still outmatched his older brother, it was now taking longer and longer and was beginning to prove more difficult than ever before. The reason for this, it seemed, was simply that Lelouch never went on the attack. Instead, he would merely bid his time, staying on the defensive and wearing Jon down.

As Jon stepped back a moment to gather his breath for the next assault he couldn't help but glance at the smirk played across Lelouch's face. It infuriated him to no end knowing that just a few years ago their roles had been somewhat reversed. Back then it was Lelouch who was on the attack, most likely to end the training for himself as soon as possible, while Jon, as well as his brother Robb, would whittle away at his defense. It galled him, even more, to know that because Lelouch had worked himself up to this level he was now simply using Robb, Theon and himself to identify a sword style all his own.

'Overhead slash, thrust, upwards slash and then lock swords and parry. Hahh... I really do dislike this physical training,' Lelouch thought to himself as he sparred against his brother. 'I understand it's a necessity in this world, but I do so wish it were not so tedious.' As Jon and his blades locked once more he parries the blow and sends Jon stumbling past, switching places on the open field.

While Lelouch may have been the technically superior opponent he knew that in an actual battle both Robb, Jon and even Theon would be able to defeat him in armed combat. This is mostly due to the fact that Lelouch couldn't bring himself to devote the time necessary to building up his frame and strengthening himself the way the other three had. It is because of this that he's taken to a defensive strategy against the three hoping to tire them out or outmaneuver them to win his matches.

Growing weary of his brother's constant dodging, blocking, and counters, Jon turns and rushes his brother. Using his superior strength to knock Lelouch's blade to the wayside he tackles him sending them both sprawling to the ground. He reaches for the dagger at his waist and quickly pins his brother to the ground, the dagger at his throat. "Do you yield, Brother?"

With a heavy sigh Lelouch admits defeat, "Very well, I was getting tired of this anyway."

His eye twitching slightly Jon picks himself off the ground, offering a hand to his brother. "Must you be insufferable at every occasion. You could at the very least pretend that I have gotten the better of you."

"You're right Jon. Truly I am aggravated beyond words that you have once more bested me with your strength, speed and cunning. I thought for sure that I would win against you this time." The dryness with which these words are delivered does nothing to sooth the twitch that has been developing in Jon's eye.

"There are days that I can do nothing but hate you, Lelouch," he replies with as much venom as he can possibly put in his voice.

"Truly Jon? I can honestly say there is not a day that goes by that I don't think of you fondly," Lelouch smiles before he turns and begins to walk away. "Why don't you go see how Robb is fairing against Greyjoy," he calls back over his shoulder.

His fist clenching in anger Jon can't help but damn Lelouch in his mind. Just once he would like to catch his brother by surprise but seemingly no matter what he does his brother has already seen it coming and prepared a counter. Sighing in defeat he lets his head fall, tracking the cracks in the flagstone as he shuffles on his way to were Robb and Theon have been having their own spar.

As his thought swirl in his mind, he cannot help but think that while he is irritated with Lelouch he could never truly hate his own brother. He has been there for him all his life. Protecting him from harm, both physical and verbal, as well as helping to smooth things over with Lelouch's own mother and, while he has no proof, even getting himself recognized as a Stark instead of a bastard. It reminds him of all the times he has pushed Jon to be better with encouragements and small tests, hoping to make him better, and when he has passed some test or other, set by Lelouch, he's always there with kind words and a smile and a look in his eyes that lets him know that his brother never believed for a moment that he would fail. It seems that while Lelouch's love for him and his siblings would only ever be found in tests and wordplay, he cannot help but love him all the same.

"I'd know that look anywhere. Finished your spar with Lelouch have you." Robb says as he looks at his younger brother. Robb and Theon only just finished their own spar as Jon shuffles up, a bitter look on his face.

"Yes, we've just finished." Jon says in a soaking voice.

"From that look on your face, this is one of those day's he's won," Robb smiles, happy that it was not himself that had been beaten.

Jon offers a smirk in reply, "I won, as a matter of fact."

"With a look like that, I don't know if I believe you. You looked more like a kicked dog that a victorious wolf," Theon speaks up from Robb's side.

"I'm sure the outcome would be much the same if you were in my place Greyjoy," Jon reply's, anger lacing his voice at the barb.

Theon falls silent at that, not for fear of angering Jon further, merely at the knowledge that Jon is in fact correct. Whenever Theon is around Lelouch he cannot help but feel small and insignificant next to him and yet while that may be true he knew that even Lelouch could find a use for someone small and insignificant.

In an attempt to move the conversation away from such talk Theon decides to bring up the news of the coming Harvest Feast. "Have the two of you heard how many Lords will be attending the feast this year?"

While the change in subject is incredibly transparent both of the Stark brothers have been learning from Lelouch on how to read the mood of a room and to understand when to let things go.

"All of them are likely to attend," Robb answers him, "From what I've been able to hear of Father and Lelouch's conversations they have big plans for the future of the North. Father would be unwilling to allow any to not attend when such things are to be discussed."

"Big plans seem like an understatement if you ask me. I've seen some of the plans that Lelouch has hanging about in his room. From what I saw it looks like they'd change the face of the North forever. Who knows what he has planned that he hasn't put to parchment." Robb and Theon exchange a quick glance in agreement before all three turns to exit the training yard.

As they stroll away they allow the talk of the feast to turn to its lighter aspects and joy's that soon to be had there. Both Robb and Jon only pretend to listen as Theon takes to bragging of the women he has seemingly bedded just this week and the no doubt scores of women he will bed during the feast itself.

-Lelouch's Room – Winterfell – 294AC -

Lelouch tiredly enters his room, his base of operations, as he thinks of it. He glances around taking note of the books he's painstakingly recreated from his former world as well as the books he's filled with the knowledge of the advanced technology from there as well, all waiting for the right time to be brought out to change the world around him. It is also where he finds his Spymaster leafing through pages of a script he can't decipher.

"Did something catch your eye, Andre?" Lelouch smirks slightly at Andre's confused expression.

"I'm simply intrigued, Milord. No matter how I look at it, it always appears to me as nothing more than groups of lines." Andre closes the book, a rather sheepish look on his face at knowing he's been caught snooping by his Lord. Lelouch doesn't even need to see the pages to know they are covered in the Japanese language he'd learned in his past life at the side of his friend Suzaku. When asked by people who had seen him writing it he'd simply tell them he'd made up the language in an attempt to keep the knowledge he was amassing secure.

Taking a seat at his desk Lelouch turns to Andre now standing before him. "While I'm happy to see you, Andre, I don't think you came here simply to browse through books you can't read."

"Of course, Milord I return with news from our spies." Lelouch takes up a quill and some parchment before he motions for Andre to proceed in case he needs to make note of anything in particular.

"While you will no doubt know that King Robert has been wasting away the royal coffers on women, wine and tourneys it has only recently come to our knowledge that he has been spending so much on these things as to put the very Kingdom itself into debt in the excess of two million gold Dragons." Lelouch glances up slightly in surprise. While he'd guessed that King Robert was in no way improving the kingdom he'd at least believed the man would keep the kingdom stable. Something was not right here.

"I'd believe that to be true if the debt was perhaps half the amount it is. As it stands I don't think even a king can drink and fuck themselves into such debt as this," Lelouch makes a few minor notes as he waits for Andre to continue with what he believes to be the true cause.

"The tournaments that king holds are most likely adding quite a bit to the crowns debt, however it is unlikely that this is the true cause of such a staggering number. The whispers I've received lead me to believe that someone is slipping Dragons from the crown and into their own pockets. The only person who has the ability to do such a thing is the King's very own Master of Coin, Petyr Baelish."

Lelouch's eyes narrow at that, "For him to be doing such a thing he would need to keep both true records of the Kingdoms finances as well as his own doctored records to show to the crown itself. Do we have anyone in place to search for such a thing."

"My spies could start the search immediately Milord. If they were to find it what would you have me do?"

"For now the knowledge of the location of these records is enough," Lelouch mutters as he writes down this new information. "Who, officially, does the crown owe the debt to?"

"The Iron Bank, as well as Tywin Lannister, own the majority of the debt and no doubt Baelish has spread it out to both himself and the other Lords of the Realm to better cover his tracks." Andre states to his lord.

"Speaking of the other Lords," pausing in his writing Lelouch looks to Andre, "How are efforts going in placing spies within their courts."

A brief pause lets Lelouch know that not everything is going perfectly. "Our spies in the North are all well positioned Milord and while the same can be said of many of the minor Southern Lords it is proving to be slightly more difficult with the ruling houses. The information we gain from such sources will have to be carefully considered until we have a better understanding of Houses themselves."

"Very well." It's disappointing but Lelouch can understand that not everything will work in his favor. "Has there been any other news?"

"With the Harvest Feast approaching I've been having my spies concentrate on the Lords of the North in case they themselves prove to be trouble. From my reports, almost all the Lords remain loyal not only to Lord Stark but are impressed with yourself and the prosperity you've brought. A few complain of the Norths continued subservience to the crown but such thoughts have been known since before your Lord Father was made Warden of the North. The real problem, Milord, is with House Bolton."

Lelouch's eyes narrow at the reminder of the House of the Flayed Man. Of the few times, he'd met Lord Bolton he could not help but remember his previous father and the cruelty he'd kept carefully hidden from all around him.

Andre continues, his voice cold, "Lord Bolton has been attempting to influence the price of the new steel sent to the Southern Kingdoms either through taxes or price hikes. It's also been discovered that he's been pressuring the smiths around the Dreadfort into revealing the process for creating said steel. We believe he's in communication with the Great Houses of the South about selling the secret of creating the steel. So far we have been unable to find out who exactly he's been talking with but I believe we should know within the coming weeks."

Lelouch remains silent in thought as he takes in the information. While the news is indeed bad if House Bolton were to succeed, something he has no intention of allowing. This could also be a grand opportunity for him and allow him to get rid of a house that would no doubt become a thorn in his side as time passed. If he can gather evidence of House Bolton's betrayal of standing orders from the Warden of the North, it will justify Lelouch's efforts of creating his network of spies to his father and perhaps even allow him to bring more innovation to the North without the Stark Lord questioning his intentions.

"There is more Milord." Andre breaks though Lelouch's line of thought and brings attention to a stack of parchment he's taken from the satchel at his side. "These are the reports from around the Kingdom that you've asked for. It contains the general attitude of the different Great Houses across the Kingdom, in as much detail as we can obtain, as well as the mood of the small-folk in various regions throughout the country. What isn't on here is something I've only just learned of on my way to Winterfell. It seems that a number of isolated farmers and woodsmen, as well as their families, have been going missing in the vicinity of the Dreadfort. I've had it confirmed by our spies there that Roose Bolton's bastard has been capturing these families and taking them to torture and flay within the dungeons at the keep. I've had my men put together a plan to rescue those still alive and transport them here to Winterfell to testify against House Bolton."

"Very good Andre," it seemed that proving his spy network worth the effort was going to be achieved whether House Bolton was attempting to sell Northern secrets or not. "With only two months remaining before the Harvest Feast I want you to concentrate on the Houses in the North but House Bolton specifically. Gather what evidence you can of all their crimes and have it ready for me to present to my father. It's time to remove the stain of the 'Flayed Man' from the North." The cold smirk on Lelouch's face would send a chill racing up the spines of even the hardy people of the North were they to see it. While Andre keeps his face as neutral as he can that doesn't stop his heart from racing in his chest at the look upon his Lords face, he would never pity nobles like the Boltons, but it doesn't stop him from wondering just what Lelouch Stark is capable of.

-Casterly Rock – 294AC -

Tywin Lannister Lord of Casterly Rock, head of House Lannister and Lord Paramount of the Westerlands gazed stoically out the windows of his office. He could almost feel the 'Winds of Change' as if they were a real thing blowing through the Seven Kingdoms, shifting the power of the world from the South to the North. He has been playing this game longer than most and because of this, he can see what is going on around him, unlike the rest of his foolish family. The tools being used in the mines were made with steel bought from the North. His family and all the other Houses in the Kingdom were spending more and more money on the luxury items that the North has be making. If it had remained mostly the nobles spending money it wouldn't have been as distressing but with the recent introduction of a new alcohol called Vodka, coming from the North as well. Now even the small-folk were spending their meager coin on a product from the North.

If Tywin were to guess, the total amount of gold spent by the kingdom in the trade with the North, was close to half a million dragons this year alone and that amount would just keep growing. In a bid to stop this he had told his blacksmiths and Maesters to find out how to make the steel of the North, but they had failed. It was distressing to learn that he would not be able to recreate the steel himself, it could have silenced those fools in King's Landing begging Robert to have the North give up the secret. He would now have to turn to other methods to reclaim even a portion of the profits flowing out of the Westerlands.

Of the spies, he'd sent to the North none had been successful in bribing the blacksmiths working there to reveal the secret to producing this new metal. Whoever had taught them how to work the metal had also instructed them on keeping such things safe and away from prying eyes and ears. He would have liked to simply capture one of the smiths for himself but with the limited number of blacksmiths actually working the metal combined with the small number of merchants allowed to sell it things could prove troublesome to cover up should he start producing the steel in his own holdings.

The only success he's had in such plans was in receiving a raven from Lord Roose Bolton. Lord Bolton had offered to sell the secret of the steel and would offer cheaper prices on glassware from the North if Lord Tywin would back House Bolton's claim to the North when the time was right.

Tywin would admit it was a good offer, not that he would be accepting it in the way Lord Bolton was hoping. As things stood he could only come to the conclusion that somehow the North had taken to using spies to keep the secrets of the North. He knew that a man like Lord Eddard Stark would never dishonor himself with such methods, no it was his son Lelouch Stark, the 'Black Wolf of the North', that made him think such things. He had a hard time believing that a boy of just fourteen name-days could have come up with so many innovations and taken to creating a spy network to rival even those of the other Great Houses, but he couldn't ignore the possibilities of such a thing.

Returning to his desk he sat down to write his response to Lord Bolton. As things stood he would have to take the chance that whatever plan the Lord of the Dreadfort was planning would pan out in his favor. Finishing and sealing the letter he called for a knight he knew to be loyal. He would have him make the delivery with discretion, there was no need to draw attention to himself if he could help it. However, if his deal with Lord Bolton should ever come to light he was already prepared. While the increase in steel cost would be troublesome it was not something he couldn't afford, and Lord Stark was unlikely to unduly make life harder for the small-folk, even those not his own. All that was left to do now was wait and see if this gamble paid off.

-House Reed – 1 Month before Harvest Feast – 294AC -

Lord Howland Reed was working in the office of his keep finalizing all the details of his departure for the Harvest Feast to take place at Winterfell the home of his Lord and friend Eddard Stark. As one of the few men both loyal and alive who knew of the events that had taken place at the Tower of Joy, he was in the know when it came to his son's network of spies. Though dishonorable in his eyes he was in agreement with his friend Ned that such precautions in this day and age were needed. It was because of this that he was unsurprised to revive instructions from John Andre, the Spymaster, telling/asking him to be on the lookout for any Southerners who seemed out of place. Unknowing why he should do such a thing he had none the less done as asked and tighten security around his keep and lands. There was always the off chance that such a man could come through carrying information that was important to the safety of the North. Which was enough for him to have his men keep watch.

"Milord," a guard called through the door as he knocked. After Reed answers him by telling him to come in than the man continueds, "Milord, we've apprehended a man from the South who might be the one we were told to look out for. When questioned on his business here in the North he became defensive and eventually he attempted to flee when we asked him to come to meet with you."

"Where is he now," Howland asked as he stood from his desk.

"In a cell in the dungeons. We searched him and found a dagger and this letter." Howland's eyes widen at the sight of the seal of House Lannister on the letter the guard hands him. He barely contains his rage as he begins to read through the letter almost crumbling it in his hands before calming himself.

"Release the Southerner, tell him he's failed in his mission and that he should be happy to keep his life. Call for the Maester and Master-at-arms and spread the news that we will depart for Winterfell within the next day." The guard leaves quickly as Howland Reed slumps into the chair at his desk. It would seem his friend's son was correct, there was a need for spies and they were quickly proving their usefulness.

-Winterfell – 1 Week later – 294AC -

It was a rare day in the Keep of Winterfell that one would find the normally sour-faced Eddard, Ned, Stark laughing and smiling in joy. However, today was such a day and Ned Stark would be loath to let these moments of happiness pass him by. Indeed, with the last few years filled with the fallout of the Greyjoy Rebellion, starting up new farms and mines, the rebuilding of and rehabilitation of the forts, castles, and walls that had fallen into disrepair and you have the recipe for a stressed Lord Stark. It wasn't getting any easier with the coming Harvest Feast as well as the plans that would need to be finalized afterward and relaxation was a concept that Ned could only dream of when they began.

"Then what happened, Lulu," Ned Stark's concentration is broken as his youngest daughter, Arya, prods his oldest son to hurry his story along.

"Yes, what next, Lulu" Bran Stark agrees, bouncing at his sister side.

Lelouch laughs at them but keeps going with his story about his old world. A made-up story to them but oh so real to him as he tells them of his many adventures at the school festivals. Of course, he tells it in such a way that they can understand and waters down a lot of it, but the laughter of his youngest sibling shows they enjoy it anyway.

Off to the side sitting with her Mother, Sansa is doing needlework. In the past, she would sit with her younger sister and brothers listening to his storys but now she is too old for such silly stories, being a young woman of ten name-days, or so she says but she keeps pocking herself with the needle she is working with because she is intent on listening as well. Her Mother shakes her head in amused concern while bouncing little two-year-old Rickon on her lap. Robb and Jon are there as well, laughing along with the rest, they may have heard it before, but they never will never grow tired of listening to their brother's amazing stories.

The joy cannot last however as a guard knocks sharply on the door to announce that Lord Reed is waiting within the Godswood with business most urgent.

Ned is surprised by this for he did not think he would see his old friend till the Harvest Feast itself. Looking to Lelouch he says, "Come, Lelouch, let's see what my old friend wishes to speak about." Ned knows that whatever this is must be of great importance for him to ask him to come to the Godswood and not his office within the keep.

"Yes Father," Lelouch stands before glancing over at his brothers. "Father should we not bring Robb and Jon with us. I think it's time for them both to know fully what is going on around them in case you or I am needed elsewhere."

Knowing that Lelouch means if they were to die before Robb and Jon can be brought into the fold he lets out a sigh before motioning to the two boys, "Come along boys."

Both of them jump up at their Father's words and move quickly to follow. Although Lelouch had been teaching them, along with Sansa, to better understand the world around them as well as how to rule and lead the North should the worst befall him, this is the first time they'd been invited to attend an actual meeting between Lord and Heir. So their haste could be understood.

-Godswood – Winterfell – 294AC -

As they make their way into the Godswood Lelouch's mind goes to how he feels about this place for whenever he steps into these woods there is this feeling of being watched or judged. A feeling his mother has felt as well, but unlike her he knows the that God and Death are real entities with a living consciousness and if they are real than it would not be hard to imagine that there could be lesser Gods as well. Not that it matters to him anyway for if by chance these Gods tried to get in his way he would burn down all the Godswoods and Septs in all the world in retaliation so as to make his goal comes to fruition. Maybe that was why he always feels judged in this place, like the old Gods knew about his existence and hated him for it or feared him for it.

"Well met Lord Reed, my friend," Ned Stark greets the two men waiting for them. One is indeed Lord Howland Reed and the other is his Spy-master, John Andre. Both men bow as the small party approaches them who in turn greet them back with the same respect.

"It is good to see you as well Milord, if only it were under better circumstances." Howland steps forward to shake hands and motions to Andre at his side. "Andre here would be the best to explain in this case."

Ned turns to Andre, "Are you well, Andre?" He is unsure of how to feel about John Andre and his role within his court as well as his relationship with his son. While the man is courteous and well-mannered he cannot help but see him in a negative light for his role as Spy-master to the North under his son's command. Lord Stark would have found it easy to like the man were he simply a merchant that his son had grown friendly with but because of his status as a former Southerner as well as a spy he finds himself cautious around the man.

"Well enough Milord," smiling Andre turns and greets his sons, "It is good to see you well Milords."

Both Robb and Jon greet Andre in turn before sharing a quick glance. They knew of the steel merchant but did not understand why he would be included in a discussion between Lords and Heirs of the North. "There must be some trouble if you have arrived early and have brought my son's Spy-master along with you," Ned says as both boys start in shock, the expression on their faces priceless to Lelouch, before staring up at the man now seeing him in a completely new light.

Lelouch rubs his chin in thought as he glances between Andre and his brothers. He will have to teach them how to look for and recognize spies that may have infiltrated the keep or following them through towns. His mind turns to the many ways he can teach them such lessons and cannot keep the dark look that creeps onto his face hidden from his brothers. Robb and Jon catch the look on Lelouch's face for but a moment before he hides it behind his blank expression, however that one glance is all they need as they straighten, and feel a chill run down their spines. No doubt the days to come are to be eventful for the two of them.

"Yes Milord," Andre starts, "Sometime back I began to hear rumors of House Bolton attempting to sell the secret of the steel produced here in the North to one of the Houses in the South. What they would have gained in return was only speculation until recently. I believed that one of the Southern Houses would send a reply, whether that would be by raven or messenger I did not know but I had men in position should it be by raven and so informed Lord Reed of the potential for a Southern messenger who would have critical information for the North passing through the Moat on their way north. Such a man was captured only seven days past and with him, he carried this letter."

Ned opens and reads through the letter quickly, his eyes hard as ice and cold as the northern air. "This is a true seal Andre, not some farce," his words are low and as sharp as his families Valyrian blade Ice.

"Yes, Milord." Ned distractedly hands the letter over to Lelouch as he moves to stand before the Heart Tree, his expression troubled. Lelouch reads through the letter, Robb, and Jon following along over his shoulders. He hands the letter to Robb but remains silent content to let his father or more likely his brothers make the first suggestion on what to do.

Surprisingly it's Lord Reed that breaks the silence, "Ned, Lord Bolton has as good as declared his intentions to end you and your House. With all the evidence that Ser Andre has gathered, we can easily bring the man to justice. No one would doubt your right or your honor to take the steps needed to see you and yours safe."

"I agree with Father," Robb speaks up, "we can gather the men and have Lord Bolton in chains before the week is out."

"No," Ned states, not turning from the Heart Tree. "I will send a raven to the king. I have no doubt my friend will agree that we are allowed to seize Lord Bolton, but we will do this the correct way. None shall question that we have done this to merely secure our own position in the north."

"While I agree with you Father, would it not be easier to simply arrest Lord Bolton when he arrives for the Harvest Feast." Ned turns to look at Jon, curiosity in his eyes, Lelouch also turns to him a soft smile on his face. "You could still send your letter the King telling him that you will be arresting Lord Bolton at the Harvest Feast and bringing him to trial before the other Lords of the North. Lord Bolton will only bring a small force with him to the Feast and the guard Winterfell would be more than enough to convince Lord Bolton and his men to surrender without bloodshed. I'm sure that would be best for all, father."

Lelouch is truly impressed with Jon's thinking and while he can sympathize with Robb wanting to end the threat to their family as quickly as possible he'd hoped all his lessons so far would allow him to understand that fighting your enemies on a field they know best is foolish. "I believe Jon has the best plan, father. Bringing Lord Bolton to trial would ensure none could question your honor."

"It is a sound plan Jon," Ned says to his son as Jon's face takes on a blush from the praise. "What would you suggest we do about the Lannisters, Lelouch?"

"Unfortunately, there is not much we can do. The way in which Tywin Lannister has worded his reply says that he would support the Bolton's claim should anything happen to House Stark. It mentions no attacks, troops or even supplies in any way. Lord Lannister could easily make the argument that it was an agreement to some far-off future that may or may not have come to pass. That is without taking into account the large debt that the crown owes to the Lannister family as well."

It need not be said that if they did take any overt action could potentially lead to civil war, a war that Lelouch knew he could win. The weapons and increased food supply that he had brought to the land would make help with that, but it would still be a long and drawn out war with no gain to be had.

"Milord," Andre speaks up, "Lord Bolton will likely bring his bastard son Ramsay Snow with him to the Feast, we should move to arrest, and bring to trial him as well."

"What has Ramsay Snow done that warrants such a thing," Ned questions.

"My spies have been hearing rumors of isolated families going missing with no explanation. I had them do a more thorough investigation about the source and found that Ramsay Snow has been using his father's men to capture these families to flay and torture within the Dreadfort. I have men in position to rescue those still alive as soon as Lord Bolton departs from the fort for the Harvest Feast." Lord Stark goes still at the news but his hands clench tight and Lelouch can just see his Father's shoulders shaking as he tries to contain his rage.

"Very well, we will go with Jon's plan and arrest Lord Bolton and Ramsay Snow when they arrive for the Feast," Ned starts, "Lelouch, you may do what you believe can be done against the Lannisters and keep me appraised of the outcome. For now, there is nothing more to do so go about your days until the Feast where we will make our move."

-Three Days Before Harvest Feast – Winterfell – 294AC -

Everywhere you looked there were people happily getting ready for the feast and talking about this year's harvest. The harvest has been the best in the history of the North, so much food had been grown that many would think that they lived in the South and not the cold hard North. There would be games and prizes but unlike a tournament, in the South, the games were so simple that a commoner has a chance to win a prize. Yes, it was safe to say everyone was merry this day, well that is if you were not Lord Roose Bolton and his son Ramsay Snow.

Roose Bolton could not be more displeased right now, not only had he not received word from Tywin Lannister but just days into their travel a messenger had arrived from the fort to tell him that the people his son had been torturing in the dungeons had somehow escaped. With the Starks strong standing and good favor with the king, not to mention Lord Stark's heir's accomplishments that greatly changed the North he had had to take the risk of making a deal with the Lannisters. If this kept up any chance of House Bolton becoming rulers of the North would be lost, at least in his eyes, they would be. Still, this was a big risk he was taking, and he knew it, if he was found out his House was all but done for and with the escape of the people that his son has been torturing put him on edge. He even thought about returning to the fort just to be cautious but without due reason, he would lose face with the other houses of the North.

Then there was his son who he had to keep reminding to be on his best behavior and that went double when he is around the heir of Winterfell. His son did not see why he should do so and kept telling him that he has no fear of the Black Wolf and the little toys he makes. Roose called him a fool and told him if he wished to keep his neck he should be cautious around the boy, just as he was and for good reason. True he had only met Lelouch on a handful of occasions but when he did Roose could not help but feel a bit nerves around Lelouch Stark. It was not because of his intelligent or the many things he had accomplished, no it was his eyes that made him so nerves. If there was one thing Roose knew how to do and do well it was read a person's eyes, and Lelouch's eyes were the type that told you he could see you for what you were. There were no secrets you could hide from him and no move you could make that he would not foresee. Roose dismissed that thought at first seeing as Lelouch was just a boy of 10 then but with no message from Lord Lannister and the missing people the thought made itself known once more. Did the Black Wolf know of his plans and if so how did he know of them. Shaking his head he rids himself of these thoughts, he can't think of this right now, no now was the time to look the part of the Lord who was happy with the changes being made to the land.

"Look at all those pathetic people going about their small lives without a care in the world. I can't wait till we change that," Ramsay remarks darkly to his Father showing, his true colors for all those who could hear him.

"Shut your mouth Ramsay, we are not in the Dreadfort where you can say and do as you want. If someone hears you it will not end well for you." Having to remind his foolish son once more of this is starting to wear on his nerves.

Spiting to the side Ramsay responds to his Father, "Tell me, father, who would dare tell of what I say if they do overhear me, some small-folk ha," he barks, "Don't make me laugh. Who would believe them over a Lord's son?"

"You forget yourself, Ramsay. You are nothing more than a bastard to them and I so keep your mouth shut before you lose your tongue," Roose orders his son.

Ramsay's hand goes to his sword in anger at this for he knows it to be true. He could still recall the day news came that Jon Snow became Jon Stark. How he hated Jon for that even though he has never met him.

"Oh, I don't know milord, he would most likely lose more than his tongue from such talk," A voice from in front of them says.

Roose turns his head to face the person who called out to him. When he spots the man, he sees a handsome young man of no more than twenty name days with brown hair that has a long braid down to his shoulder and a noble look to his face. He is also flanked by twenty guardsmen on each side who are wearing light steel armor and carrying pikes in their hands. "You dare to stand in front of me, I demand you move aside whoever you are."

"I'm afraid that I can't do that Milord." Instead, the guards move to surround Roose and few men he's brought along. "Lord Bolton, you are under arrest for conspiracy to usurp the Warden of the North and the attempted selling Northern secrets."

Roose's mind races at the implication of those words and can only come up with a single explanation for how Lord Stark could have come to possess such knowledge. Somehow or another the honorable Ned Stark was using spies. However, even as he thinks this he comes to realize that it is not Ned Stark who has made this happen, no, it must be Lelouch Stark who has brought this change about, and much like the wolves of his houses symbol, the young Lord has led him perfectly into this trap. Seeing his men with their hands on the swords he quickly looks around to see if there is an escape route to take. Not seeing any he knows the only way to get out of this, hopefully alive, is to surrender and win in court, for he knows Lord Stark will not just have him killed outright, not with the other Lords of the North here.

Looking at his men Lord Bolton orders them, "Do not draw your swords. We will give ourselves over peacefully."

"Father," Ramsay gives him a hard look at his order.

"Be quiet boy unless you wish to die on the streets like a dog," Looking back at Andre he asks, "Would I be right to assume my bastard is to be seized as well?"

"Yes Milord," ever the professional Andre answers Lord Roose as he should, even if he is a traitor.

Lord Roose gets off his horse and takes off his sword to hand it over to one of the guards and like a true Lord of the North follows John with his head held high. His son Ramsay does not follow his example and puts up a fight until he is pulled down from his horse and shackled in irons and dragged to the castle screaming at them to release him.

-Dungeons – Winterfell – 294AC -

Lord Bolton sits in one of the many cells in the dungeon of Winterfell thinking of what to do next. There is little doubt Lord Stark has evidence of his plan to overthrow the Starks as the ruling house of the North so that left only two things to do, take the Black or ask for a trial by combat. One would lead to the end of his house and the other, if he won, could lead to the restoration of his house in a couple of decades. Not in his lifetime for he knows that no Lord of the North would help him and now that he knows there are spies working for the Starks any outside help was out of the question as well. He also had to consider that if he did take the trial by combat he would likely face Lord Stark himself, a fight he was not so sure he could win.

With this thought in his mind he hears the door of his cell open and a boy walk in, no not a boy but the man that has seen to his downfall. "Here to mock your prisoner my young Lord," Roose says to Lelouch who is flanked by two guardsmen with their hands on their swords ready to kill Roose if need be.

"Hardly Lord Bolton, I find no need to mock a man who has already lost. That goes more so for a man who is wise enough to see that as well," Lelouch answers him with a cold voice and even colder eyes. The eyes of a true Stark if Roose was being true to himself.

"Then why are you here my Milord," Lord Bolton is honest in his question, wondering why he is here.

"I am here to see if I can talk you out of the trial by combat and to take the Black instead," Lelouch answers him honestly.

Rising an eyebrow at him Lord Bolton asks him, "How, pray tell, did you know I would choose trial by combat?"

"Because it was the only way to save your house for falling into nothing. From what I heard about your bastard son he would choose trial by combat but even if he gets to have it and won it would make no difference for your house for he would never inherit your spot as Lord of House Bolton. As for you, if you choose trial by combat as well, you would face my father himself. A fight that you would not win and we both know it," Lelouch answers him as if the winner was already decided.

Roose cannot help but agree with Lelouch on this for he had fought in the last war with Lord Stark and knew him to be the better swordsmen and like Lelouch said even if Ramsay won his battle it would not matter. "What you say may be true Milord but like you said it is the only way to save my house so there is little reason for me choose the Night's Watch over combat."

An aloof smile on his face Lelouch responds back, "Isn't there? It is a great honor to sever with the Night Watch, is it not?"

With a cold laugh Lord Bolton reply's, "Do not think for a second Milord that I believe what you have said. We both know there is no honor in severing on the Wall anymore."

Shrugging his shoulders, a bit Lelouch answers him, "You are right, I don't believe it and only a fool would. There is no honor in severing with murderers, rapist, and thieves on a cold wall. Then again, for a man like you that would not be too bad a place for you to go."

"For someone who said they are not here to mock me you're doing a fine job of it Milord," Lord Bolton's eyes narrowing dangerously at Lelouch.

However, Lelouch just brushes this look off not frightened in the least. "You take my words the wrong way, Lord Bolton. All I mean is that the Wall could use a man like you. With the Night's Watch, the way it is a man as intelligent, cautious and ruthless as you are is needed there." Seeing that he has Lord Bolton's ear he keeps going, "From what my father had told me and what I have heard from others, Jeor Mormont is an honorable man who is strong, stern and fearless. All good things to be sure but is not what the Night's Watch needs right now. No what the Night's Watch needs is someone to fear and you, Lord Bolton, are a man to be feared and let's face it, I will never let House Bolton rise to its former glory."

The look in Lelouch's eyes as he says this is unnerving, to say the least to Roose. He does not show it but right now within the darkness of the cell combined with the light from the torches he feels some fear towards Lelouch. After all, what kind of demon would look to save an enemy he claims others should be fearful of. "I will think on it," Is all he has left to say.

Leaving the cell Lelouch walks down the hall of the dungeon and stops to look at the door that would open to Ramsay Snow's cell. In less time than it takes to make up his mind on how to beat one of his brothers in a game of Cyvasse he dismisses the boy as useless and walks off.

-Next day – Great Hall – Winterfell – 294AC -

The trial of Lord Bolton and his son Ramsay Snow is well underway. To say that the Lords of the North are not happy to learn that Lord Lelouch has been using spies like some Southerner would be a very big understatement. It was lucky that they were even more pissed to learn that House Bolton was plotting with the Lannisters to overthrow House Stark as the ruling house or this trail may not end well. John Andre just wishes the Lords would stop looking over at him like they wish him dead, it was very uncomfortable and not a welcome feeling to have so many eyes on him.

"Traitor!" Yells Lord Jon Umber also known as Greatjon, "I say forget this trial. We should just cut off their heads right now," Banging of fists on tables follows from the other Lords agreeing with him.

"Silence," Lord Stark yells over all the others. "I understand your feeling, but that is not the King's Law and we follow the law. Now all of you have seen the letter that Lord Reed has given to me from Lord Lannister to Lord Bolton. You have also seen letters from Lord Bolton to Lord Lannister provided to us by one John Andre. We have also heard from Lord Bolton himself saying that they are fakes. What say you, guilty or innocent?"

A shout of guilty floods the room and it would seem no one is on Lord Bolton side in this. "Just like I thought," Lelouch smiles to himself as he watches on next to his family.

"Then let it be known that Lord Roose Bolton has been found guilty of treason to the North and his son Ramsay Snow has been found guilty of the crime of flaying and murder. By the king's law Lord Bolton may choose beheading, taking the black or trial by combat. His son Ramsay Snow will be beheaded," Ned says with the authority of the Lord Paramount of the North.

"I demand a trial by combat. I may be a Snow, but I am still the son of a Lord and have a right to it," Ramsay yells out in madness knowing it is his only way out from the death he so fears.

Mumbles can be heard from the all the Lords in the hall. Some are in agreement, but others do not see the point as he is a Snow and therefore thought of even less than the poorest of small-folk. That is until Lelouch stands up and says, "I say let him fight." All stop to look at him, "He is right, he is still the son of a Lord and should have the right to it. After all, we are not the South who fear to give true justice in the name of the old gods." All the other Lords can't help but agree with the young Lord and feel he is right.

Ned seeing this makes up his mind, "So be it, Ramsay Snow will have his trial by combat. Who will stand for House Stark?"

Before anyone can speak up John Andre takes a step forward and bows before Ned. "Milord, please allows me to fight on behalf of your family. Let me show these fine Lords that though I may be a spy I can still fight as honorably as any other."

There are many looks given to the Spy-master of Winterfell from the people in the room. Many do not know what to think of it for none have ever heard from a spy taking up the sword to fight outside of the shadows they live in. For some, like Greatjon, there is a look of some respect for Andre as he yells out, "Aye let the man fight the bastard. Let him show the Snow what happens when he faces someone who can fight back." Other lords join in at Greatjon's words feeling some respect for John even though many of them were looking at him with disrespect at the start of the trial.

For Andre that was a good thing for it gave him the chance to earn their trust, after all, he can't do his job if the Lords don't trust him. "So be it John Andre will fight Ramsay Snow in trial by combat after this trial is over," Ned announces to all in the great hall.

"Now Lord Bolton what of you," Ned questions, counting on him to ask for trial by combat so he can kill the man himself.

Roose has had all night to think things over. Did he believe he could beat Lord Eddard Stark in combat? The answer he came up with was maybe, most likely not but then even if he did win he knew what would happen afterwards. He would make an even bigger enemy of Lord Stark's son who he now believes was nothing like his father and would use all manner of means to see to it that his house falls to ruin. Then there was joining the Night's Watch and living to see another day but still, his house would be gone. It didn't matter with he chose for each would lead him down the same road as the other. So why not look to take Eddard down with him, he bet the little Lord would not see that coming. With his mind made up, he looks at Lord Stark and answers, "I will take the Black, Milord. I feel I could do very well there," he smiles at seeing the shocked looks on everyone's faces, even his own son but it does not matter, for living is better than dying and who knows, maybe a chance will come for him to turn this all around someday.

-Training Yard – Winterfell – 294AC -

Everyone was in the yard to watch the fight between Ramsay Snow and John Andre. Many were wondering who would win, Snow or the merchant spy. Some thought that Ramsay would win seeing as he had grown up in the Dreadfort with his Father and would have been taught how to use a sword expertly and as far as anyone knew, Andre did not know how to fight. How little they knew about the Spy-master.

"Lelouch do you think Andre will be okay? I have never seen him with a sword before," asks his brother Robb, as the rest of his family looks at him with the same question on their minds.

"Oh, worried about him are we? I didn't know you two were friends, how nice that is. I am sure Andre will be touched when I tell him later of this," Lelouch smiles at him.

"This is no time for jokes or wordplay brother this is serious. I don't wish to see Ramsay walk away from what he has done," Robb snaps at him.

"And he won't my dear brother. Feel at ease, from the moment John asked to fight on behalf of House Stark, Ramsay was as good as dead," Lelouch answers him in such a matter of fact look in his eyes that it makes Robb take a step back.

Looking to his son Ned states, "You should know as well as anyone that nothing is sure in combat and seeing as no one has ever seen Andre fight with a sword before you can understand your brother's doubts."

"True Father, in this world nothing is for sure, other than death, but trust me when I say there is more to John Andre then just being a good Spy-master," John walks in to the yard now adorned in light armor and draws out a long, double-edged, slender blade sword with a protective hilt, "He is also, a wonderful water dancer." Lelouch smiles at the look on his families faces.

Ramsay walks into the yard soon after with light armor on as well with a short sword and shield. Coming face to face with John and his rapier he smiles, "Well, well, looks like the spy brought a stick to a sword fight. I hope for your sake you are good with that stick merchant or you going to die to fast. Maybe I will take my time just to slow it down for everyone," he smiles a sick and twisted smile.

"I have nothing to say to a murdering bastard like you, so fight or die," John answers him in return and says no more.

"Big words from one of the small-folk but let's see if you can back that up," Ramsay says as he rushes Andre thinking it will be easy to beat him. So, he is completely surprised when John steps quickly to the side in a flourish and slices Ramsay deeply across the face drawing first blood.

"You're going to have to do better than that if you wish to kill me, Snow," John mocks Ramsay.

Enrage by this Ramsay charges at John swinging his sword wildly looking to cut him in half but John gracefully dodges or parries his sword with ease slicing Ramsay more across the face, legs, and arms, not to deep but enough to slow him down.

Gradually his mad look turns to fear as Ramsay comes to a stop and takes a step back. "Bastard, fight me like a man," he says with hate in his voice.

"I am fighting you, you're just not used to it when someone can fight back, and you have it wrong, you're the bastard not me," John says in an aloof way as if he is not trying that hard in this fight against Ramsay.

With the anger he feels overcoming his fear Ramsay rushes John once more looking to tackle him to the ground so as to beat him to death, but he is only met with the protective hilt of John's sword to his face. He staggers back from the blow with a broken nose but that is the least of it for John moves back as well and swings his sword at him cutting his neck open. Blood pours out from the wound as he falls to his knees grabbing at his throat trying in vain to stop the bleeding. His eyes are wide open in fear, this can't be happening, this is not supposed to happen, was his final thought. Looking up at the man who killed him he can't believe that this peasant, this merchant, has killed him.

"I hope they find you a good home in hell, Bastard," John says before he turns and walks away from a dying Ramsay Snow who thrusts a hand towards Andre, from the look in his eyes he is not reaching out to grab John but to plea for help. It goes unanswered and he falls flat, drawing his last breath.

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