Chapter 3: Deserter
It was early in the morning, and William had been called down from his quarters earlier than usual to go with Lord Eddard, Robb, Jon, Theon and Bran to see to a deserter from the Night's Watch. From what Lord Eddard had told him, they were a group of men who always wore black, and defended the icey goliath known as The Wall, usually from the men and women who tried to climb over it and raid those living on the other side. Walls and William never really mixed well, especially if the wall had a dragon on it.
Stupid scaley bloody lizards, I refuse to believe there were two of them near that bloody castle...
Will had had lived in the North long enough to realise that simple overalls were not enough in the cold harsh weather of the North, and eventually he started wearing the set of Drang armour whilst he was in the keep of Winterfell, he removed the cape while he was inside and then added it and a hood and mask to keep himself warm whilst exploring the cold countryside of the North.
"Sir Will, are you alright?" Lord Robb has asked, waving his hand in front of Will.
"Yes, my lord, just daydreaming again, I apologise."
"No need to apologise, Ser, we all usually find your thoughts extremely interesting, you should see Arya and Jon after dinner, they'll talk about your adventures for hours into the night."
William had made an effort to try and befriend all of the Stark children and their associates. He couldn't stand even being near Theon, and so never tried talking to him, let alone befriend him. He always looked out of place with the Stark children, but Will never would have guessed he would have guessed that he had been a hostage for over ten years.
The youngest children were the easiest, Will just needed to tell them the less scary stories of his adventures, like when he encountered the Iron Golem alongside Black Iron Tarkus, the Knight of Berenike, who single handedly slain the Golem in a one-on-one fight to the death, or how he had fought the Knight Slayer Tsorig and nearly fell in the pool boiling lava.
For Robb and Jon, Will sparred regularly, and managed to mold them into even better fighters than before, he gave them a few extra fighting stances to use, alomg with a few dirty tricks that they would need to use in desperate times, although they paid for them in almost broken bones and deep purple bruises that looked likely to never heal properly.
Sansa was the hardest, he never had a chance to talk to her but when they did, it always seemed like she had her head filled with romanticised tales of chivalry that looked like it only existed in fairy tales. Prince Charmings and Knights who slayed the dragon, all from books and tales. It took a while for her and Will to get used to each other, but when they did, it was enlightening to know that Sansa was a rather smart girl, smarter than the rest of her siblings, but her belief in the non-existant benevolent princes and knights made her seem more stupid than she let on. Even Sansa somewhat enjoyed William's tales, especially those of the Astoran Knights, the ones who wore long blue capes into battle with the golden lion roaring on the back.
"I thank you, Lord Robb, I never thought that my life stories would be that interesting to you, to be quite honest, although my adventures in Drangleic and Lothric would always garner attention."
"Well, Sir Will, when you go on about fighting giant cursed trees and giants, those types of stories will get attention from everyone."
Well, Robb, even I could tell you that...
The small party of men had soon reached the lonely collection of hills, with four men surrounding one man in black, who was the Night's Watch mutineer.
Will could never understand why one would break their sacred oathes, they knew what they were doing with their lives, so they should never have took their vows, and then ruined their lives when they abandoned them.
"Be quiet, lads, we are here now. Will, I need you to follow me." Yelled Lord Eddard over the billowing winds.
The winds were fighting roughly through the air, each one louder and louder in William's ear. Lord Stark was talking to the prisoner, and from what Will could hear little of, the deserter had seen something that he shouldn't have, and because of it, he rode past the wall and was captured near the fields around Winterfell.
"I know what I saw, my lord. I know what I saw. I saw the white walkers."
Lord Eddard nodded solemnly, and Theon took the sword that was covered by a wolf scabbard and passed it to Lord Eddard. Lord Eddard drew the mighty sword, Ice, and passed the scabbard to Theon once more.
"I, Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, in the name of Robert Baratheon, First of his Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, do sentence you to die."
Will could see Jon whispering to Bran as Lord Eddard to stance with his sword, but he couldn't hear what was being said over the wind. Bran steeled himself for what was to happen, and kept his eyes open and watched as Lord Eddard took a swing with Ice and with one clean slice, the deserter was dead.
"My lord, do you believe what he said? About your... White walkers?"
"A mad man sees what he sees." Was the quiet answer.
The ride back to Winterfell was a solemn one, Lord Eddard was keeping to himself at the front of the column, mulling over what he had heard, while Bran was with Robb, Jon and Theon talking about what had happened at the execution.
Will was still stuck on what to do about himself, he had no clue what he had to do. He was not used to the land, the people, anything. He only had a basic knowledge of the land, and he needd to fix that if he was going to try and find Annalise. The harsh cold weather was nipping at his skin, the hair on his body slowly rising under the winds, the thick black leather he was wearing not doing anything to stop stop the freezing gales from getting under his skin.
Then the column halted, and William began to head up to the top of the column to see why it had stopped. Next to Lord Eddard were Ser Rodrik Cassel and Robb, stuck on their horses, looking at the bloody and mutilated corpse of a stag.
"Maybe it was a mountain lion?" Theon yelled from behind Robb.
"There aren't any mountain lions in these woods." Lord Eddard replied, looking at the trail of blood that diverted from the the road.
Lord Stark had marched off down the hill by the road, his sons and Ser Rodrik in tow. Will followed behind them, ordering the men to watch the horses before he went. As they got to the bottom, Will could see Lord Eddard kneeling beside a great beast, an antler stuck in the beast's throat.
"It's a direwolf..." Lord Stark announced.
It is a bloody big wolf then...
"There aren't meant to be direwolves south of The Wall." Said Robb.
"Well, there are five of them now, my lord." Will could hear the quiet mewling and howling from the direwolf.
There were five little pups, baby direwolves, all huddling around the mother, trying to get milk. The pathetic mewling could be heard by every man around now, and the Little Lord Bran could not help but pick one of the pups up. The little wolf had smokey grey and silver fur, and seemed to be enjoying the attention Bran was giving him.
"Father, can we keep them and take them home?"
"Lord Stark, they have no mother," Theon raised his voice. "Who is to look after them?"
"Theon has a point," said Ser Rodrik. "They will not survive out here in the wild for long, we should end their suffering quickly."
"No! Father please let me keep him! I will look after them, I promise!"
"No Bran, they have no mother, no milk, we simply do not have the time to spare either."
"Lord Stark!" Will shouted over the rest.
"Yes, Sir Will, you have something to say?"
"Not me, but Jon Snow does." Will replied.
"Go on then, Jon. Speak up, lad."
"Umm, my lord, the direwolf is the sigil of your house, and there are five wolves, five for each of the Stark children. Maybe we should keep them for each child."
Lord Stark looked at Will, and then Ser Rodrik, then sighed. He looked at Bran and began to speak.
"You will feed them yourselves, you shall look after them yourselves, and if they die, then you shall bury them yourselves."
Lord Stark marched back up the hill, and began to wait for everyone to pick up the wolves. Jon looked at Will as the rest of the men began picking up the wolves and began to speak to him.
"Why did you force me to speak? I shouldn't have said anything!"
"You need to learn to speak for yourself and put out your ideas, just because you are a bastard doesn't mean your ideas aren't good."
"I still shouldn't have said anything!"
"Why not?"
"Because I'm a bastard, it is not my place to speak out against a great lord!"
"But you saved six innocent lives by doing it, so what was wrong about it?"
Jon looked away from Will. "Nothing."
"Exactly. And I believe that this pup is yours." Will quickly handed a little white wolf to Jon in his stupor, before quickly marching up the hill.
X-X-X
Will was wandering around the keep, looking for Lord Stark. As soon as he had made it through the gates, he had dismounted his horse and disappeared like a quick gust of wind. Will had been there to see the astonished look on the faces of the Stark Children as they recieved their wolves. They had held their wolves as tight as they could as the servants took them to give them little pieces of meat and milk and blankets to warm them from the cold winds they had been rescued from.
It felt odd to see a real wolf that looked like they had a realistic size. He had wandered many forests, and seen many different creatures where he had wandered. The Corvians, The Ghru, even the Giants, it was nice to see normal creatures once more. The moment he walked through the forest and could hear the heavy thudding, the falling of the trees, and snow white blur running through the forest, a giant wolf carrying an ornate sword by the hilt in its mouth. It was a grand sight to see, although not so much when William needed to fight back against it.
The battle got worse as the fight went on, the massive sword strike the wolf threw at him, sent him flying, hitting trees and piles of stones as he flew through the air. Yet as Will gave back smaller yet quicker strikes, the wolf began to slow, its strikes being easier to dodge, but as it began to slow to a crawl, Will could see the sadness in its amber coloured eyes, as it dropped the sword, curled up next to Will, and bowed its head, letting Will give the final blow.
While Will was travelling, he would occasionally be visited by the spirit of the wolf, in a small golden form, where it was large enough that it rose up to Will's shoulders. The wolf provided company to Will when he was loneliest, and it definitely helped to say the least.
"Lord Stark! Where are you?"
"By the Godswood, Will. Please, try to keep your voice down."
"I am deeply sorry, my lord, I have never been to a plae like this before. Usually the forests where I am from hold some kind of deep-seated curse, or are filled with bandits."
"Oh, the forest with bandits is the one we the Wolfswood." Lord Stark replied. "Although, we don't have a cursed forest."
"Ha! You should be happy you don't have a cursed forest, they aren't the best thing to have. Then again, you should be happy you don't have a mountain peak filled with Manserpents."
"I imagine that whatever we have, you have it even worse, William?"
"Very true, Lord Stark."
The pair spent some time in the Godswood, laughing about humorous past adventures when they were younger, and Lord Stark told all about what it was like to grow up alongside King Robert Baratheon. The humour was cut short however, when Lady Catelyn arrived.
"A man from another land comes here and makes himself at home within days, and I can't even walk into the Godswood and feel like a Northerner." Catelyn said.
"You have five northern children, of course you are a northerner." Eddard replied with a smile.
Catelyn smiled at her husband, she loved him more than anything. She could trust him, and maybe one day even bare him another child when Rickon had grown up. She was slowly coming to like William, the young knight had made his presence around Winterfell known within days, coming to befriend some of the guards and even her children. With time, she knew she could begin to trust him with her life, he seemed like a trusting young knight, and one of the few people who deserved to be knights, unlike the Kingslayer, or the Mountain.
"Cat, what is the matter? Are you alright?"
"I'm sorry, my love. Jon Arryn has died. King Robert rides for Winterfell."
