Editers note: Someone rightly pointed out that Guest rights was a First man thing NOT and Andels thing. Could have sworn it was the other way around and this is one of those big things that needs to be right and it would have bothered the hell out of me if I never fixed it. Nothing else new here however sorry guys.

I spent the next day resting and that evening with the Measter Walys. Together we found a single volume on something called the Long Night. The tome detailed the events where the others attacked the southern lands but were repelled by someone called the Last Hero. From what I was able to tell the Last Hero listed was either a Westerosi version of the Azor Ahai that Raylor had told me of. Or this was the original and it had traveled across the narrow sea. With Dorne being so close to Essos this seemed most likely. This is likely why Lord Jeorge had them confused. For someone not versed in the old stories such as he and I it was easy to make the mistake as there are many parallels. The only real difference being the location it was told. Both involved a flaming sword and the sacrifice of something dear in order to find victory. Something of note however is that the Middle Aged Measter had heard of the Prince that was promised from a collage years ago. A Measter Aemon had said they would be born of smoke and salt under a bleeding star. He is said to have a song about him. This was my most substantial lead I've had yet and seemed to be the first bit of good fortune I've had. If someone this far out had heard the legend then there was a good chance people in the capital would as well.

I also took the opportunity to get a crash course in Westeros history and tradition. Turns out bread and salt are a sign of hospitality, giving one guest rights something that went back to the days of the first men. Something incredibly important that I seem to have not been offered but it mattered little to me as I seem to have been treaded will enough. Also the Targaryen dynasty, while old, was a relatively young royal dynasty. They took most of the continent on the backs of dragons. Something that the suggestion of made my dragon's blood curdle in rage. The very idea of a mortal riding bare back of the mighty Dovah is heretical. The only reason Odahviing had even humored the idea was because I had captured him then freed him. A simple debt to be repaid. But beyond my research I did very little. I mostly rested as I had not slept a wink in the last day. Not to mention Kyne's Wind was an incredible yet draining spell. I may have moved like the wind but I was still flesh and bone. My joints have never ached so and I wanted to be rested when I met the Lord of Winterfell.

So the sun rose the day after my session of rest and research. I put on my furs once more (freshly cleaned by one of the women I had saved, now a servant of House Stark) and I left to have my morning meal. Arriving once more to the dinning hall I found it a hive of activity. Servents, guards, and a few petitioners and minor nobles. Jeor and Rickard sat at the head table. As I approached them Jeor turned to face me with a smile.

"Good morning to you Ymir! Rest well? We haven't seen you for some time." I return the smile clapping him on the shoulder as I sit next to him.

"Aye I've rested a fair bit. But I wasn't sitting on my ass the whole time. Did some work with your man Wayls. Got some leads for what I need to next." The two simply nod and continue to eat. The rest of the meal was quite, the small talk between us amounting to nothing more than something to occupy time. Following breakfast I was invited to join the young lords in the yard.

So now standing side to side in front of me were the two young lords. Covered in head to toe in padding, dulled training swords gripped harshly in their hands as they cautiously moved forward. I myself was bear chested holding onto a dulled longsword loosely in my hand so that the tip drooped. They separated so that I stood between them and all stood silent for a moment. With a battle cry befitting the animals they bear they charged me. Stark swung high. So, leaning back I let the blow go past me while moving backwards bringing my blade up to block a blow from Jeor coming low. Pushing Jeor back I pull our blades up so that the cross guards lock together. With my left hand I bring back my arm and landing a punch directly into his nose causing Jeor to stumble back. Moving my attention in the split second before he could react I turned to Rickard who was now in a low stance. His form was drilled well in the conventional sense but he lacked the confidence of a seasoned warrior, his grip was shaky and his eyes restless. Unlike Jeor who had been fighting raiders for years at this point this pup had never hunted proper. It would be his end.

So I focused on him. Small things quick cuts to keep him on his toes while also using my size to pressure him. On more than one occasion I flat out punched him in the gut. Not too hard mind you but hard enough to make him stumble. Meanwhile Jeor took the time to catch his breath. Assess the situation and make a plan. As the cold mud stomped and slurped as Rickard and I fought. With a cry he charged us. Rickard and my blades were locked. Letting Rickard push forward while I stepped back he fell onto my outstretched leg, tripping him and sending him tumbling right into Jeor the two fumbling into a pile. Planting the tip of my training sword to the ground I stand above them, hands resting on the pommel.

"That was a dirty trick old man, for someone who critiques our honor you seem to lack it quite fiercely." Stark said as he stood up. Extending a hand to Jeor he picked the larger boy up and the looked to me displeasure clear on their faces.

"Tell me pup, where's the honor in two on one?" The two of them say nothing but glance to the ground. "Honor, is for before and after the battle. For your everyday life. However, the moment that your life is on the line. No one, and I mean no one. Will fault you for your actions. And if they do, their version of honor is so romanticized that it's not possible for any man to achieve." They just nodded understanding my logic. Although Jeor did seem a little fiery still.

"What's wrong lad?" I ask him. He looked at me and hesitated. "If you're worried I'm going to strike you, I've already done it enough so I'm not in the mood." Rickard chuckled as Jeor's face went red. After a moment he cooled and spoke.

"If our honor is romanticized, then what do you mean by honor then? Is it written down somewhere if your so set on it?" I shake my head.

"As far as I know there's no written code on how to be a good person." The two boys were about to speak again when a new voice joined us.

"It is not a matter of how to be a good person, but instead how one to strive to be." We all turn to see the balding form of Maester Walys. "The code of honor, or chivalry, is as old as the Andels. Respect the gods, fight fairly for a just cause, lay no forced hand on a woman or child, treat guests like family, and always be loyal to your lord." He strode forward, his white robes being covered with mud as he brought a clean rag and began to wipe Rickards face.

"That should just be. Not something to strive for." I say to him, but he simply turns and smiles.

"Now who's being romantic? These things simply go against the nature of men. Who thrive on the sin and destruction. No better then monsters really." I frown at the man.

"That's rather pessimistic." I say walking closer to him. "There's a difference between something to strive for and being better. If you say than men can only destroy then how are we in a keep with walls so high the block out the sun? And that the only way that it keeps warm is a natural hot spring underneath. How would a monster think of that?" Walys looked undaunted. "Let me tell you I've seen monsters and not the metaphorical kind. Trolls twice as wide as you, three eyed with teeth the size of daggers. They would never think of using a hot spring to stay warm. Just for their next meal. Goblins are primitive little monsters who can barely speak their own horrid tongue who've dragged children into the night to be their supper. Never will they build a castle of such grandeur as this." I say motioning to the craftsmanship of Winterfell.

"We are not monsters, we are men." I say with as much authority I can muster. I moved over to a trough filled with water and washed the sweat from my hair. I look over to the balding Maester once more.

"And even then I must ask you, Is it better to be born innately good, with no struggles and peace all your life? Or to be born innately evil and flawed only to overcome that evil within and be something greater?" I hadn't noticed the crowd watching till just now. Many were aghast, some simply stood enthralled. The young lords looked on in wonder and the Maester had his eyes closed with a small smile.

"Truly Sir Ymir, you are quite a passionate man. And clearly not the barbarian that some around the keep think you are." He looked up to the balcony where a quick bout of whispers ceased. "You would have made a fine Maester I think, or whatever equivalent you might have in your homeland. Your philosophy is sound and you speak with passion. I think you'd have made a fine teacher." He turned to face Rickard at that point. "Your Lord father and his entourage will be here any minute. Let's get you two cleaned up shall we?" The three began to walk away but just as they were leaving the yard Walys turned back to me. "Also, Lord Stark has requested that you don your Armor for his arrival. Wants to see "The Old Bear" in all his glory himself, he said." And with that they walked off.

So the next thirty minutes or so was a blur. I had my gear on with Glacier on my back and out of the way. My helmet hung loosely under my arm standing a few feet back and to the left of Rickard and Jeor. Servants running around making last minute preparations, Walys giving me instruction on how to act and stand, and Rickard and Jeor getting quite the scrubbing. Now standing proudly in thick coats of fur a drab brown with pins of there houses sitting proudly on their chests. And then they came. A retinue of at least a hundred people started to ride in. All of which seemed to be hard faced and pissed at anything that moved. Soon a group of men holding a large standard with a white and green field. a wolf's head bearing its teeth ready to strike.

Then came the man of the hour riding atop a black warhorse fair skinned with deep brown hair that was cut short to his scalp. Pale faced and handsome it was clear that he was Rickard's father. He was in riding clothes covered in a massive wolf's pelt the size of a sabercat's. Its head laying across his right shoulder, a truly fearsome sight. Followed behind him as a long train of men on foot and horse, several crowding around a large yet plain carriage. When the convoy came to a stop Lord Stark was at the front. He dismounted swiftly and with grace and moved quickly to us.

He first went to his son to whom he greeted warmly. Bringing Rickard into an embrace that engulfed the boy. He whispered something to him that I did not hear and moved away. Next he went to Jeor who he clasped hands with fondly the same affection from embracing his son still evident on his face as he kindly greeted the young heir to Bear Island. Then he came to me. He looked up to me (obviously he came up to just about my shoulder however, easily the tallest man I'd met so far off this land.) And he spoke. His voice a deep and baritone.

"So, you're the Bear who dares to wander into a Wolf's den alone? I must say I somehow thought you'd be smaller." I look at him. Those pale blue eyes shone with danger; he was a territorial one it seemed. I shift a moment.

"Bears are scavengers. Sometimes we wander to places we probably shouldn't be in need of food. You're lucky I came by however, there was a wild dog tryin' to get at your pup." He nods his lips coming together.

"Aye I heard. I also know you have asked my son a favor in exchange. And to ask a favor of my boy is to ask a favor of me so speak plainly." I like this one.

"I have business in the capital south. I hear you are going there shortly. I wish to accompany you." There was a murmur at my request. For although it was a simple request it was one that held many complications. For one it was one more mouth to feed. Food was scarce in the North and as much of it as possible but be saved for winter. Another is the implications of me riding with the Lord Paramount the equivalent of a King. It would mean that I was either a member of his peerage or a part of his guard. Both answers brought questions. Who is this strange barbarian that has joined with Lord Stark? What a strange man and so large too! I wonder how they feed him with all the whining of poor crop yields. Oh I can see the gossip now.

"Granted. However, I want to know what you intend to do there." That was easier than expected. The mumbles died down. It seems it was less "the audacity" and more "What? That's it?"

"Aye that's fair. But I'll tell ya in private. Have to keep some secrets you know? Keep the mystery." Lord Stark nodded, chuckling as he motioned his hand to follow and walked away. I followed closely behind him. Not bothering to see who came out of the carriage.

As we walked it occurred to me that we were not heading into the castle but instead we were in a large Grove of trees. After a time we approached one of those Weir wood trees next to a small pond, a simple stool sitting beneath the shade of the tree. With a grunt the aging wolf sat and looked at me.

"You know, this is eerily similar to when I spoke with Lord Jeorge. Wide open field blanketed in snow, him sitting while I stand. The only real difference here is that you're not polishing a sword." I say to him, the Stark smiled.

"Truthfully my large friend. I would be if I had the time to retrieve Ice. But for now there are some questions that need answers. For example, who in the hells are you and what do you need to get to the capital?" His face went from warm to stone cold in a moment. The look of one who has commanded and lead numerus men in his time, the eyes of a leader.

I look him in the eyes. His blue greys looked back at me. I knew there was no reason to lie. The look in his eyes said more to me then he could ever say. So taking a deep breath I spoke.

"My name is Ymir of Bruma. I am Shield Thane of Skyrim, Sol Invictus, the unconquered sun of the Legion of The Cyodillic Empire, Harbinger of the ancient Five Hundred Companions of Ysgramor, The Old Bear, Dragon of the North, Last Born of Akatosh, and Slayer of Dragons. Your question while fair is not the one you should ask. But instead WHAT am I?" With each name, each title I stepped forward allowing a fragment of my Thu'um to carry the weight of my words. And soon I stood towering over him, his steely look gone, his face still neutral but his back straight and his eyes wide. "I am Man. I am Dragon. I was placed on Mundus with a divine purpose to slay the eldest of my kin. Alduin the World Eater who had long strayed from his path of consumption of the world at the end of the Kelpa or the cyclical cycle of destruction and creation of the world. I am Dovahkiin. Last of my kind, the ultimate slayer of dragons." Now the stern face began to fade. "I have been sent here by the god of men Shor to assist your people by training a boy who will save you all. A promised son of royal blood who will fight back the darkness of something you call the Others or the White Walkers. I will not die until my task has been completed. I wield magic and sword both. Able to turn my body as sturdy as a mountain or as swift as a falcon. My blade has cut down foe uncountable in quantity and I have contorted with God and Demon alike."

By this point I was standing chest to chest to lord Stark, my helmet discarded in the snow but I still towered over him. His eyes wide but he stood his ground, even as his façade of confidence began to break. But I was done and when he realized this he once more gain control. He had been pushed back quickly and had not had time to prepare. Now that he had recovered he spoke calm and cold like an artic lake.

"Quite the list of names. I am Lord Edwyle Stark lord of Winterfell and Lord Paramount of the North." His eyes hardened and he stood up straighter and although I am physically taller the man's presence is enough to match mine. "I don't have so many names or titles but I can tell you this. This is my castle and my land. If you think you can intimate me by throwing empty titles and boasting then you are gravely mistaken." We stand for a time, the only sound of the breeze through the trees reminding me of the moment of time. Then, I begin to laugh. Then, he joins me. For several minutes we let out booming laughter at the circumstance.

"You must forgive me your grace. I'm so used to having nobles being either spineless milk drinkers that I can push and prod all I like or so arrogant and headstrong I need to prove myself. You seem to be level headed like your son. A fine young man by the way." He claps my arm as he continues his own giggles.

"Tis fine. I myself had to make sure you weren't some hedge knight gone brigand. Glad to see you have a pair of stones underneath all that plate. Now tell me, what business do you have in the capital? I do not mind an extra sword with me can't be too sure these days but I need to know what you'll be up to so I can handle liability. "

As glad as I am that he does have a head for this sort of thing I'm not fully sure what to say. I feel that telling him the whole truth is unnecessary but at the same time I have already told Jeor's father a decent bit.

"Lord Stark, are you a pious man?" He looks perplexed but nods his head. "Do you believe that the gods do care and that they protect us in their own ways?" Now lord Stark was interested and he nodded firmly. Steeling my resolve I speak once more. "I have been sent by my God the Lord of Men Shor to assist your own gods. They fear that this land is not strong enough to repel the ones they call the Others."

Up until I had said the Others, Lord Stark had not believed me. But when I did the skepticism left his eyes and his lips handed into a line.

"You claim to be sent by the gods? Which ones?"

"Them all." I say. He looked down in thought . A little wrinkle formed on his brow and he began to think.

"Old? New?" He had asked without looking at me instead at the Weirwood.

"Both. As well as the one they call Raylor, Lord of Light."

He said nothing for a time instead taking the time to think. Looking at him now however I cannot help but to take him in. His shoulders squared and his stance firm looking deep into the eyes of the Weirwood. Or at the very least the other way around. He spun on his heel looking at me.

"Prove it to me. If you truly have been sent by the gods then you must be some sort of angel right? Some sort of divine prophet? Usually you types speak in pretty words with nothing behind them. I will hear you simply because you speak of the Others. A threat if real I cannot ignore as a Stark." He stood defiantly the unsteadiness in his eyes hoping I was lying. So I chose the only way to prove I was who I said I was.

"Cover your ears." I say to him calmly.

"What?"

"Cover your ears. This will be very loud." He does so.

With a deep breath I call once more unto the Dovah within.

"Mul Qah Diiv!"

‐‐‐‐‐‐-‐

And as the Thu'um of the last dragonborn eccoed across the land. Its ancient foregn magic tore across the countryside. Animals cried, babes wailed and the weak willed among men went mad. And high above all others in a keep of blood and lies. The newly crowned king of Westeros woke in a cold sweat.

Kept you waiting huh?

For real this chapter has been long in the waiting. and there's one reason why I haven't posted sooner.

I'm lazy. No writer's block didn't lose interest. I just didn't want to write. I kept working on this chapter on and off nearly the entire time I was gone but haven't (and still really aren't) satisfied with it. I want to start moving south soon so we can get to the meat and potatoes and start to play with some of the more fun characters. Aerys, Steffon Baratheon and Tywin Fucking Lancaster would still have been close friends at this point. So when big bad Ymir rolls up and starts to train the princes (all of them) you can bet that those two will be around. Now let me say this. Ymir isn't going to try and "fix" anyone. He's not going to try and make Tywin a better person. He's not gonna try and fight corruption in the capital (unless it's inconvenient to him.) Because that's not why he's here. I'm taking a Lawful Neutral approach to things for now. Not saying things won't be different but the timeliness will correct themselves. Also hello to any new people from got x elderscrolls!