Author's Note: Hello Everyone! I know the first two chapters were terrible but i just needed to figure out a way to get the dwarves to westeros and have it make somewhat sense. The landscape of the north is going to be changed a little bit. The forktop peaks of the frost fang mountains are going to be south of the wall instead of North of the wall. The mountain clansman live in the valleys and small mountains surrounding it but they can't live in the frostfangs due to it's living conditions so they steer clear of it. Balwe is a Maia if you haven't figured it out yet, and so since the dwarves have his help, they will be able to build much faster and craft much greater like the dwarves of the first age once they get over their mistrust
I hope to make the reactions real on both sides and I hope the story is enjoyable for everyone. No stupid pairings. Dwarves only marry other dwarf women so I don't care about pairing them with anyone from Westeros. It will take a few chapters to get to canon, but it will be different and Ned's position in the North will change because of it.
Year 284 A.C.
Lord of Winterfell
"Ned, my lord, must you go? Could you not just send your bannerman to deal with the Ironborn?" His lady wife had asked as she tugged at her red hair he loved so much.
"Mormont's letter did not say ironborn specifically and If not me, then who else, my lady? The north follows strength and there is nothing strong about letting my men fight these invaders while I hide behind my castle, would you not say so?" Catelyn had no words for that and stared off out of her glass windows.
Ned sighed.
He did not mean to be so harsh to Catelyn, but the stress of ruling the north was already weighing him down, and he has only been the warden for less than a year. This belongs to Brandon, not me. This castle, the lands, the smallfolk...this woman in front of me. Father, mother, Benjen, Lya. Promise me, Ned. Once this castle had been full of wolves roaming around it. Now there is just me. But he knew that was not the truth as soon as the words tumbled from his mouth. Robb, my heir, he is fast asleep down the hall. And Jon. Lord stark sighed once more. He knew the boy was already subjected to rumors and gossip.
Let them gossip, Jon is mine and that is all anyone need know.
Catelyn's voice brought him from his thoughts. "You only just left, my lord. The mad king was defeated not yet a year's past. You left! You left and returned with another woman's child!" Her voice broke at the end as tears welled in those tully blue eyes.
Eddark walked over and joined her in staring out the window. "My lady, I erred greatly when I went south, but it shall never happen again. You have my word on that, Cat." That nickname still felt foreign on his tongue, but he was starting to get used to it.
"I will come back, Catelyn, and with no children in tow this time." He tried to smile at her. Promise me, Ned. She turned her head towards him.
Cat wiped her tears, and then finally gripped his hand back. "I know you shall be back my lord, for our son needs his father." She then moved closer and raised their gripped hands to her chest. "And your wife needs her husband."
Eddard placed a chaste kiss to her lips, "I shall return my lady, you have my word on that as well." Catelyn smiled at that. "My father always said you can count on the word of the stark."
"Indeed you can, my lady. Now is it too much to ask for my lady wife to escort me down to the yards?"
She smiled wider at that and said, "of course not, my lord."
Out in the yards, his men awaited his coming. A young man by the name of Mark came over to give him his riding gloves and he was sorely reminded of a man that had rode south with him who bore the same name.
Ser Mark Ryswell, always so quick to smile, and a gentle giant. Willam. Theo. Ethan. Martyn. May the old gods give you all rest.
He could still remember Barbrey Dustin's face when he had returned Willam's horse to her.
"I see", she said as she stared at the horse Ned had handed over to her as if it was going to transform into Willam himself. Her eyes were fixated on that spot until her demeanor changed into a cool one.
She looks like a feral dog when she sneers.
"I suppose I am indebted to you, Lord Stark", she gave a mocking curtsy, "and the rest of the men? Are they all still in the south as well?" Her voice took on a tone of pure innocence.
"They are, My lady." Ned said simply.
What is she playing at here. Eddard looked around and saw some of the men near her starting to give him accusing looks. This is not going how I had hoped.
"I could not bring anyone's bones back, Lady Barbrey-, he was cut off.
"Everyone except dear sweet Lyanna, right, Lord stark? Surely her bones are being brought back north, or am I wrong in assuming so?" She kept that same sweet innocent tone throughout.
Ned saw fit to end the conversation abruptly then, before it had gotten even more out of hand. He left soon there after and the memory of that day still slips into his thoughts from time to time. He knew he would have to leave more men than he wanted here at Winterfell, but it could not be helped.
I do not trust that woman, nor her family. Father had always spoke of the Ryswells with displeasure in his voice. And they have even strengthened their position in the north with the Boltons. I will have to keep my eye on Roose and Roger when we venture North, and Winterfell must stay heavily guarded while I am away.
"My lord, are you well?" Catelyn was staring at him with worried eyes.
Aye, my lady, just thinking of my journey ahead. I shall keep you and Robb in my thoughts the whole way." Just as he spoke, his wet nurse was bringing both Robb and Jon out in the yard. He noticed she had no trouble carrying them and looked as if she had done it time and time again.
That is Shelly, if I am not mistaken. She has had four children now, and all girls too.
Catelyn's mouth pursed and she marched over to grab Robb out of Shelly's hands. The woman was nearly caught off guard by it, but she recovered rather quickly. Eddard saw Cat's regret at handling the situation poorly, but he knew she would not have done it any differently.
How am I to leave when Winterfell is still somewhat in shambles. I still do not fully have the trust of my lady or my lords and I shall worry after Robb and Jon while I am away. Damn these invaders. Damn them back to wherever they came from.
He walked over and gave Robb a kiss to the crown of his head and then moved to over Shelly holding Jon. He cradled the lad like a prized possession and kissed him on the crown of his head as well then gave him back to the woman. He moved back over to Robb and saw Catelyn's face held none of the happiness that it had but a few moments ago.
Ned was disheartened by it, but he pushed through. He took his son from her hands, a bit more forcefully than he had intended. "My boy, I expect you to watch over Winterfell and your Mother until I return." Robb only laughed and made to grab at his hair. He chuckled and gave him back to Catelyn."
He knew his men were getting restless and his people could not stand in the courtyard forever, so he signaled for his horse to be brought to him and gave Robb one last kiss and one for his Lady as well, then they were soon out the North Gate. They were quickly off the roads and into the thick of the Wolfswood to make for Deepwood Motte. He knew the Glovers had received a letter as well from Mormont.
If nothing else the Glovers were loyal. The Umbers or Karstarks would already be diving head first into battle I am sure of it. But the Glover's would hold for the reinforcements of the North to come.
For a fortnight and nearly a sennight, they traveled through the oak, and evergreen. Black brier and sentinals. Soldier pines, ash, chestnuts, ironwood. The lands made Ned feel right at home. When the men would make camp and the stars would light the night sky, that is when the howls of wolves could be heard all around them. They were at first weary but, once a sennight had gone by the howls had begun to lull Ned to sleep.
Once they finally neared Deepwood after their long trek, Robett and a small retinue of men met him when he was less than a day's ride from the castle.
"Robett, well met." Ned held out his hand for the man.
"Lord stark, it is good to see you again," he gave his hand a firm shake, "my brother awaits you in his halls, my lord."
As they traveled up the hill to the castle, Ned noticed House Glover's sigil quickly before the rest of the other houses sworn to them.
A silver mailed fist on a scarlet red field is hard for anyone to miss. I see all of the Glovers sworn houses are here. Good. We shall need all of them.
Bole, Branch, Forrester, and Woods. Lord Gregor noticed his coming and broke off from the conversation he was having with a House Bole soldier.
"Lord Stark, good to see you again."
"You as well, Gregor. How have you been, my Lord?
Lord Forrester dipped his head and said, "as well as can be expected, Lord Stark, and you, my Lord?
"Aye much the same, Gregor." That reminded Ned. "I did not get a chance to tell you after the war, my Lord, but I am sorry for you Father. He was a good man, and my father always spoke well of Lord Thorren and how he was a fair and able lord."
He touched his hand to his chest, "then I shall do my best to honor his memory."
Ned only nodded and continued on his way. There was little time for small talk, not with what lay ahead of them. The castle looked much the same as he had remembered when he was a boy. There may have been a couple new log towers since he had last been here, but the place was the same for the most part. They passed through the palisdale of logs, and past the two square towers. Galbart waited out in the courtyard with the rest of his household.
They all kneeled once they saw Lord Stark's coming. Ned quickly dismounted his horse and walked over.
"Rise Galbart. Rise all of you. It is good to see you again, my Lord."
Galbart smiled, "aye, you as well Lord Stark, though I had hoped we would be meeting under different circumstances."
"Aye, he said simply, but we must make do with what we are given." Those were words his mom had said to him many years ago.
"Well said, My Lord." Brief introductions were exchanged with his staff and household and then the lords moved inside to Galbart's largest room to speak more privately with the other lords.
Galbart said this room has had no visitors for many years. Parts of the wood in the room were starting to blacken and the smell was stale. This room could use some work, but it will do.
Ned was not too sure this could try be considered a room meant for War Council, but he thought the name apt, for war would soon be upon them.
They were deep into discussion at this point, with every lord trying to speak over the otehr. Kennet Bole spoke up, "This is folly. We must march! NOW! We have no time to waste. For all we know these ironborn could already be invading the north as we speak." Voices grumbled their agreement at that.
"We must wait. If they are invading now and we were to face them in battle, then what? If they beat us and scatter our armies, who will be there to pick up the pieces? No my lords, until all of our forces get here, then we must wait. There is no other way." He could see some of the men tried to hide their disapproval at the decision, while a few others nodded in agreement.
No matter the discontent, I know these men will follow me on this. That has always been the way with the north. Men will curse, yell, scream, fight tooth and nail, and in the end, they shall always yeild to the Starks. We shall wait.
And wait they did. Nearly a moon's turn before the all the lords made their arrival to Deepwood Motte. Ned only let the last lord to show up and his men rest a day, and then they were off again to Bear Island.
And how shall we cross with this many men when we do not have the boats for it. There are boats for trips to and from the island, but not war galleys. How are we all to cross without suffering heavy casualties?
Eddard racked his brain over this the whole way until he was brought from his thoughts with a shout.
"Gods, its so many of them." One of Ned's men spoke up.
"That aint no Ironborn. Ships look too good to be reavers. I seen't me a Ironborn ship before, these look too pretty and aint even got no squid on the sail." A glover soldier said.
He heard many grunts in agreement. An older warrior with a weather lined face spoke up then,"I have been across the narrow seas and back milord, and I aint never seen no ships like that."
Ned had seen few enough ships himself but even he knew these were not Ironborn.
If not them, then who.
"HAR! THEN LET US GO SEE WHO THESE BLOODY BUGGERS ARE! What do you say, my Lord?! The greatjon's voice boomed so loud that Ned thought he was wearing a helm.
"Aye, jon, we shall soon enough, but first we must figure out the situation at hand and do it quietly." Lord Umber looked sheepish after that, but he was much quieter.
Ned was sure the man would need to save his voice for the coming days. He looked over and noticed Lord Bolton and Lord Ryswell watching him from a distance, and they were talking in hushed tones.
What are those two conspiring about? This shall not be easy but for the North, we must overcome.
A King No Longer
We have been on these boats for nearly a fortnight and to no avail. Where is that Balwe at? The man said he would be back soon. He has been gone too long and my people have become restless.
He was brought from his thoughts then, "STOP smoking those pipes in here, I can barely breath!" His daughter, Dis, gave an exaggerated cough to prove her point. Thorin just shook his head, and Frerin only laughed.
"Put the pipes away, you will both have plenty of time for Old Toby when we are off these cursed boats."
"And when will that be father?" His eldest, Thorin, spoke up then as got up to ash his pipe,"the man who you put your trust in has not been back and we have had no word from him. What if he went over to join with these people? What if he is telling them all about us and our kin, and they have men on boats as we speak, coming to finish us off?" Thorin was ever suspicious of anyone who was not a dwarf.
That boy gets that from his Grandfather, though I can not say that I have not been thinking the same. These same questions have been at my mind since he left. Did this man bring us here just to turncloak, and kill us all. Surely he would not have done that. Why would he travel with us all this time and risk his own life for them just to have us killed once we reached these shores. It does not make sense.
"Maybe they took him prisoner and he's been locked up all this time. Did any of you ever think of that?" Frerin gave his thoughts on the matter.
Thrain nodded, "I did, son. Balwe had said wait a moon's turn and should he not be back, then we are to come ashore without him, and fight if we must."
Thorin stood at that and clinched his fist,"Baruk Khazad!"
To which Frerin replied, "Du Bekar! If it is battle these men want, then they shall soon learn the might of dwarves."
These boys are still just that. Boys. Thorin was barely thirty-four years of age, while Frerin was even younger than that at twenty-nine years of age. He knew both were eager to get off the boat more than anything which is why they spoke the way they spoke.
I have raised these boys to be warriors, so i know should battle come, they will be ready. We all will.
Thorin, Frerin, Walk with me. We are going to speaking with Nain in his room. Dis, I shall have Amara and Brarynn come and keep you company." His daughter perked up some at hearing the names of her two closest friends. She ran over to him and wrapped both arms around his middle.
"OH, thank you, father! Can we go to her-"
"NO!" His daugther nearly jumped at that. "I do not mean to be so harsh, my child, but you all must stay in this room until I say otherwise." He kissed her brow and then they were off to Nain's room.
He first made a stop at the rooms of Dis's friends, then continued on. He gave a quick knock at his cousin's door. Dain opened the door as his father just sat staring at the wall. He did not even give rise to their coming.
Nain spoke, his voice hoarse from not disuse. "How much longer on this cursed ship?!" His voice rose towards the end. "I have not been able to hold down food and drink since we first set sail. I shall follow you as I already have, but I can take it no longer on this wooden pisspot. I can smell the dung of the goats, and we are nearest to the deck. Imagine what the other dwarves on the lower levels are going through!" His cousin threw his hands up in exasperation.
"I know cousin, which is why I came here. We are going to the deck to see if we can figure out what has happened to Balwe and see if they have soliders lined along the shores. And I am also sick of this ship just as much as you." He extended his hand towards him. "Now shall we go?"
Nain took it gratefully, as Dain piped in, "Can I come up too, father?"
"No, Dain. You will stay right where you are." The lad did not look happy about it as he sat and crossed his arms with a sour look on his face.
They left the room and made their way up the stairs and onto the deck. There were no army of soldiers lined across the shore as he had expected but he could see some men out behind the gates, but they did not seem to be paying attention of their coming. Most of this castle, if it could really be called that, was made of timber and the island seemed to be quite old and worn, he noticed. There was a gate he could see, and above it was a woman cradling a suckling babe in one hand and an axe in the other.
Warrior women. That was at least one thing we had in common for a portion small portion of his soldiers were dwarf warriors. Perhaps we shall come to a quick understanding with these people after all.
The voices of his son's had brung him from his thoughts. "Hah. This is no Erebor! Th-" Frerin was cut off.
Erebor?" Thorin spoke in disbelief, "This place does not even measure up to the city of Dale. These lands are poor as are the structures they built."
Just then the men behind the gates finally noticed their arrival. Thrain could not make out what they were saying, but noticed that most started to point and laugh at where they all stood.
"Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul (I spit on your grave)" thorin yelled at them, and his brother followed suit as usual. The men only cocked their heads, but did not their cease their laughing. He was not concerned with that, he was more concerned with this man he had put his trust in and hoped that it was not misplaced.
For a time, they just stood above the deck and watched the island. Thrain admired how the waves hit their structure and it did not budge an inch.
The place may seem weak, Thorin, but it is sturdy has held them for this long, and I see very little weakness in that.
Just when they were ready to back below the deck, there was finally some movement from the castle. "Thrain, my friend!" Balwe's voice called over the sounds of the waves hitting the ship. He walked towards the shore with a few people at his side. Two men, one was quite large in size and burly, though he seemed to be up in age. The other was nearly just as tall, he was just not as wide as the man he walked besides.
That must be his son.
Then there was one woman who walked at the end of the group and she was nearly as wide as the first man, though not as tall. She had long brown hair that he could see that she had fashioned into a ponytail. She could have been the woman carved at the top of the gates, for the appearnce was uncannily similar. And this woman had a sureness to her step Thain knew all to well.
She walks like a warrior. They all do. Should it come to a battle, it shall be no easy task.
"Balwe," Thrain said,"Well met. We had nearly started to worry after you." He did not let the man know he was ready to bring the dwarves ashore himself, but Thrain was sure he knew what he was getting at.
"I am fine, my friend. We have had long discussions on the lay of these lands and their warden is on his way here as we speak, and then we shall go from there." Thrain had noticed that the three companions that came with him all had disbelief written across their faces.
I guess these folk have not seen dwarves before. No matter, they have seen them now.
"And when did you mean to make us apart of this discussion, my friend."
Was he even truly their friend, this man. He knew Thorin was angry at him for speaking alone with this man so much, but even alone, the man said very little. Is the prosperity of my people truly his objective? What does he want? Who does he serve?
"Just now, Thrain, son of Thror. Use the ladders and come down with the others you have there above the deck with you. We have much to talk about." Balwe held out his hand as if signaling for them to come down from the ship. Thrain and the other dwarves exchanged looks before they decided they would rather fight with land beneath their feet than atop a deck.
We are all fully armed and ready for whatever trap these men might have ready for us. I gave Balwe my trust, and he gave me his word. Let us see what his words are worth.
The Old Bear
Jeor had not seen too many dwarves in his lifetime, but the ones he had seen certainly did not look like this.
They do not waddle or hobble when they walk. They just seem like little men. Men with bloody beards that could put the Mountain clansmen to shame. Who are these people?
First this man comes to shore, taller than any man I have ever laid eyes on. He even had Clegane beat by at least an inch or two. His height was not the only shock Jeor had for he was sorely reminded of the Targaryens at first. The man's hair seemed to shine a white and gold and his eyes...
I only ever remember seeing one Targaryen and they did not have eyes like that. I do not think any man in these lands have or have ever had eyes like that. No, these people must have come across the Sunset Sea. Is that what lies beyond the Sea? Dwarves and fair folk nearly triple their size.
They were making their way through the keep as he saw his new guests taking stock of the place, and they did not seem impressed. The dwarves walked through the halls like they were of great nobility and all should bow at their coming. Jeor nearly laughed at that.
These are bloody dwarves! Who are they to look down upon my halls and the halls of my forebearers when all they have stayed in is probably huts and small villages.
Jeor knew it was ill of him to think so, since they have shown him no disrespect to him or his people up to this point. But he did not like the looks his home was getting from these impudent dwarves.
Maege chose to speak up then," Thrain, was it?" The dwarf simply nodded. "Where did you get such armor from? I have never seen such craftsmanship before." Jeor was wondering the same thing, but he had decided not to ask. He had decided not to have the dwarves disarm, but now he was regretting that decision.
They look more than capable of using those weapons sheathed at their sides, and back. What in the names of Old Gods was I thinking? I would have looked weak and my men would have taken offence by me taking weapons from a dwarf. They would think that I thought they were not capable of protecting Bear Island. The Wall looks better each day. It might be cold and dark, but the weight of Ruling shall not be thrust upon me. Jorah is ready, he just needs a wife now.
Jeor drifted back into the conversation. "This armor was crafted by us." This Thrain, son of Thror said simply. The man's voice and speech even sounded of nobility to Lord Mormont.
"What do you mean by you?" Jorah looked at them suspiciously. "Such craftsmanship could not have come from the hands of dwarves!"
The three other dwarves turned towards his son and were ready to brandish their weapons until Thrain spoke.
"ENOUGH" He said. His voice rung through the halls as if a great bell had been struck and he took on a change of demeanor. "This shall not do! Lord Jorah, the armor we wear and weapons we weild are all made from the blood and sweat of our people. You may choose to believe it or do not, it makes no matter to me, but I would ask that you do not disrespect my kin. Nain, Thorin, Frerin, the words of men have always mattered little to us. Why should it mattered now?"
He noticed Maege and Jorah looking at these dwarves as if they were just now seeing them. Jeor was as well.
These are no ordinary dwarves. They speak and move like royalty, but HOW?!
The man, Balwe, chose to speak up then. "They are of royal birth. These dwarves are son's of Durin, they come from a strong line of Kings that has never been broken. These are no ordinary dwarves, my lord as I already told you. Though I am sure you are now figuring that out on your own." He gave a slight smile as he said the last part.
I should be suprised at the man knowing my thoughts, but he has been doing that for the better part of a fortnight.
"Aye. They are not, and forgive my son, and myself for our doubts. It is just that dwarves have only ever served as jesters or apart of mummer's troupe.
Their leader nodded, and they continued their walk. Maege was full of questions for the dwarves and the dwarf, Nain, had no problem answering her. They had questions for her as well that his sister was happy to oblige in answering
"You see, There is the Lord of the west, his son is a dwarf and he's the only one i know that has ever been born of royal brith." Maege told the dwarves.
"What is his name?" The man named Frerin asked. He seemed the most curious out of all of them.
The lad must be the youngest of them. Though it is hard to tell with those beards.
"Tyrion Lannister, Son of Tywin Lannister," Jorah said as they only nodded and gave no recognition of the name. It would seem at least there was no affiliation with the lions. Jeor felt like testing his luck then. He knew the man Balwe had said neither he nor the dwarvers have heard of the Ironborn, but Lord Mormont had to be sure.
"And the Ironborn, have you heard any tales of them?" The dwarves glanced at each other then at him. They looked as if he had spoken another language.
Good. For now, I will trust they are not here to invade, but should they try anything, we are ready for them.