Eddard

The Lord of the North closed the ancient book carefully, avoiding breaking the delicate strings that held it together. He then rose from his seat and left the solar. Jon and Luwin had given Eddard various works that interpreted some old carvings and spoken stories, but he still did not find anything that cited Brandon's hammer, which means its existence was truly lost in time. Luwin was advancing with the translation of the mural, but much work still must be done, as its syntax was somehow off. Luwin theorised the last part was an even older iteration of the First Runes, meaning the men who engraved it purposefully used an archaic language to hide its meaning. That signifies that the last sentences house the most important pieces of information, perhaps about the hammer itself and its use. Gods, he sometimes lamented the loss of knowledge due to time.

Some of the other books contained other ancient legends of the First Men. The most numerous were the stories of the Others. Their blades were composed of ice and cut through armour as if made of butter, the steel plate they wore was unique, as any regular blade that impacted it would wane and shatter. The most terrifying details were the giant spiders they rode. Their venom could kill a grown man in a matter of minutes. Other accounts claimed the existence of great abominations made from masses of corpses joined together, but the source is still doubtful.

There were some minor stories that would be more appropriate in a children's tale, bold claims such as "Never insult a raven, or misfortune shall bring your demise" or "Do not roam outside during the night of the 13th of a moon turn, or you shall find horrifying beasts that will eat your heart", Eddard had to read much of such nonsense.

But there was a specific work that got his attention, the "On woh changē ara skinne", or the "On the changing of skin" in Common, written by the first Arch-Maester of Magic, Godmyr Garner, a thousand years after the Age of Heroes. This book focused on the mysteries of Skinchangers and held guides taken from older works, listing all things they could do and the risks of warging. Eddard believed himself to be one, many of the sensations he was feeling towards his direwolf were in the book, so this could prove a helpful manual to start out. Talking about the bitch, Ned discovered that she was pregnant, probably in days even in labour: perhaps his children will have a direwolf after all.

Another section of the book that interested him was the testimony of the existence of shapeshifters: they were described to be extremely rare, apparently only one matured every two or so centuries, and as time progressed, they were completely lost in history. They were able to change their likeness to what they desired, and the most skilled could change the form of others too; the people of the time held them in high regard, as most believed they were blessed by the Gods. The writer said that some of the Warg Kings were proficient in this magic, but some Starks were able to as well.

As Eddard was striding by the courtyard, a sudden horn blow broke his chain of thoughts. There were riders on the horizon. As he observed the party entering the gates, Eddard spotted their sigils: Reed, Umber, and Bolton; he then approached the dismounted leaders, who kneeled as he entered their vision.

"My Lords, it's a pleasure to greet you in my halls in these uncertain times. Please, rise." The Lord of Winterfell said. The Greatjon was the first to stand up and embraced Eddard in a bear hug, "Ned! It's truly good to see you! How's Catelyn and the children?" The giant said, "They're well Jon, lately strange things have happened."

Then, Roose Bolton stepped forward and knelt, "My Lord, it is a pleasure to see you in good health." Eddard gestured to rise, "Lord Bolton, it is good to see you too."

Howland was to follow, and the two embraced silently for some time. As they broke the hug, Howland whispered, "It's good to see you, Ned. We've come to relay some news. May we talk in private?" Eddard nodded and answered, "My Lords, join me in my solar."

The three Lords followed their Liege. Ned noted that their progeny joined them too. He stared strangely at the company of Roose, for what he remembered, the Bolton had only one son, not two. They entered the solar and sat down; Howland was the first to speak, "Ned, there are many matters that need to be discussed. My firstborn son Jojen had some... Experiences as of late. He will explain you further." The small boy rose and stepped beside his father. He had Bran's age, perhaps he could make a possible playmate. "My Lord, these last weeks, I started dreaming very vividly... Father believes that I have the gift of greensight. A three-eyed raven keeps appearing in my dreams, telling me to fly." Eddard responded, "Did you dream particular cryptic ideograms?" The Reed then narrated what he saw.

Gods, he had the same vision as me.

Eddard grimaced and spoke, "As I've said, various happenings have occurred here in Winterfell. My daughter Arya found a hidden hall in the crypts. Inside it, we found this." Eddard said as he laid the hammer on his desk. "Ned, what is this? It's bloody beautiful." The Greatjon said, "My Lords, this is the hammer of Brandon the Builder. We found it in his burial inside the hall."

Everyone was frozen in place. The Greatjon slowly caressed the head of the hammer, "Gods, I don't know what to say, Ned. It's just... Overwhelming." Ned also told his vassals of the vision he had... Gods, he did not know that Roose Bolton could pale even further. They sat in silence for some time, and then Jon spoke again, "Ned, you are not the only one to have found something. While I was cataloguing the inventory of the old storehouse, I discovered this." The Smalljon brought forward a clothed object, and after he undid the laces, the most unusual sword Eddard had ever seen was before him. "Ned, this is a dragonglass greatsword. Before you ask me, no, I have no bloody clue how it was crafted. Obsidian is very brittle, even making a shortsword should be a challenge, more of all one which doesn't break after the first swing." Eddard inspected it. The handle was made of bronze, its guard was somewhat reminiscent of a chain, and the blade was black as coal.

Lord Bolton, who has been silent till now, strode forward and said, "My Lord, I too have inspected the Dreadfort for any object of interest. My sons have found this strange whip in one of the underground chambers. I still wonder how the leather hasn't decomposed due to its age, but what interests me is that similarly to Lord Umber, dragonglass was used for the rods. Under normal circumstances, they would break off after some use. But after testing it for a hundred swings, they still last." The whip was a crude weapon. It bore a strange rune at the base of the handle, the sword had it too. Maybe it was some sort of signature of the blacksmith who forged these weapons?

"Lord Bolton, I see you have brought your son Domeric, but I had not the pleasure of knowing you had another. Who's the lad on his right?" Ned asked, "He is my base-born son, Ramsay Snow. The two have become close since Domeric visited his home village, the Weeping Water."

I see, perhaps they hold a relationship similar to Jon and Robb. It is good to see love between half brothers.

Eddard cleared his throat and concluded, "My Lords, it is evident that these are legendary times. With the return of magic, the retrieval of long-lost weapons, and proof of the return of the Others... We must prepare. I will make a public announcement in a moon's turn on this matter and, most importantly, send a raven to King Robert. We will need the might of the south to resist. Now my Lords, go to your fiefs and harvest the most you can. Winter is Coming."

"AYE!" Everyone in the room bellowed. Then the Lords left, save for one: Howland.

Ned could already predict what his friend would ask, so he steadied himself. "Ned, how's Lya's boy? Did you tell him the truth yet?" Howland asked, "Still not. I planned to tell him when he came of age, but..." Howland interrupted him, "After the current happenings, you wish to tell him now." Eddard nodded, and his friend sighed, "Obviously it's your decision, Ned. Just reveal it at the right moment."

The two embraced, and Howland left the room. Eddard had much to think on.

Theon

Theon was overseeing Bran as he tried to hit the bullseye with his bow.

By the Drowned God, he still needed quite some practice.

The brat somehow missed the target completely, the arrow continued his course, and a sudden yell of pain erupted behind the wall.

Well, perhaps he has some potential.

So they ran, escaping from their responsibilities.

They eventually entered the Godswood and sat near the Heart Tree. Theon was sure that something was observing them, the blasted woods had been off recently. He didn't know how Bran could pass so much time inside. They spent some time talking; Bran wanted to know some legends of the Iron Islands, so Theon narrated the tale of the Grey King, legendary ruler of the Ironborn. It is told that from his line originated every single house that now inhabits the islands. He killed Nagga, dragon of the seas, and built his hall with its bones. The Grey King ruled for a thousand years, until one day, he walked into the sea to join the Drowned God in his watery halls. The brat was quite interested. He would make a fine Ironborn.

As Theon finished the story, a queer old man came into view and for some reason, Bran's eyes widened. "Let me take care of him." He said. It looked like the Stark boy wanted to say something, but Theon already stood up and strode towards the man. "Old man, this place is not for you, no matter how fancy your clothes are." Theon said, "Furthermore, I don't know you, nor do I care to discover. Bugger off." The man raised an eyebrow and answered, "Is this how you treat your elders? Where is your respect?"

Theon was starting to lose his patience, "What respect do I need to show? I am Theon Greyjoy! Heir to Pyke! You are the one who needs to show it!" The old cunt responded, "Heir to what? I see only a small, petulant child." Theon was now enraged. He closed his eyes and shouted, "I am NO petulant child!"

Well, that came out more squeamish than expected.

Theon opened his eyes, and then panic rolled over him. He was somehow shorter than before. At first he believed he fell on his ass, but when he looked at his hands...

What in the...

Theon sprinted towards the small pond near the Heart Tree and looked at his reflection: he saw a face, a child's face. "What have you done to me, warlock!" He shouted. The man just shrugged and said with a sardonic smile, "As I've said before, I just see a small and petulant child." Theon felt tears swell in his eyes, he then turned his gaze towards Bran. His face was shocked initially, but it rapidly contorted in amusement, and the little cunt started laughing.

Theon approached the sitting Stark and said, "What are you laughing at?" Bran slowly rose. He was slightly taller than Theon now. His derisive smile broadened slightly, and he mockingly patted the Greyjoy's head. Now Theon couldn't hold it anymore, and broke down crying.

Bran immediately stopped grinning, "WAIT WAIT WAIT! Sorry! I didn't mean to make you cry!" He then hugged the crying Greyjoy, that somehow calmed Theon a bit.

Damn it all, if Father saw me now he would repudiate me.

"Crying doesn't make you weak, Theon Greyjoy. It is merely a way to vent strong emotions. Even the strongest men do shed tears." The old man interjected, "Remember, keeping your feelings to oneself only hurts the soul, relying on another person alleviates this pain. Now young Greyjoy, what troubles you?"

Theon collected his courage and said, "I fear for what the other Ironborn may think of me," he sniffed and continued, "I grew most of my life here, in Winterfell. Lord Stark was always kind and raised me alongside his progeny as if I was one of them, Robb tried to be near me on every occasion, and now we are the closest of friends. But Father, my sister, my future subjects, what will they think of me when it is my time to rule the Iron Islands? Will they see me as an outsider, a Greenlander? Will they secretly scorn me? Will my family love me as Lord Stark did until now?"

"Theon, it seems you are not considering one small aspect of this whole matter. Aye, some at the start will consider you an outsider, but you can earn their trust with your actions: be brave, generous, and humble with your subjects, and no matter how "Ironborn" they are, you will be loved by them." The old man answered, and then Theon felt a question come up by itself, "Who are you?"

"I will give you an answer shortly, we are waiting for another person." The man said as he turned towards the entrance, where a figure was approaching, Robb.

As he came closer, his serene face contorted in one of confusion, "Bran, what are you doing here? Who are these people?" Bran answered, "Brother, he is one of the Old Gods!"

Theon's face bleached. He insulted a God!? Others take him, he was lucky to be alive! He looked over to Robb, whose face of confusion only deepened and was mixed with surprise, horror, and joy. Then, a thought crossed his mind.

Drowned God preserve me, at least be less blunt with it.

Robb was now looking between him, Bran, and the God, probably not knowing what to do. He ultimately settled with kneeling before the latter, "M-My God! It is an honour to be in your presence!" The older Stark said, "It is mine too, Robb Stark. Please, rise." Robb did as the God said. He then turned towards Theon and asked, "Who is this kid? Bran, did you make a new friend?" He asked with a smile. The boy answered, "No, Robb, that's Theon."

What's with being so candid today? Your poor brother is about to faint! Are you dull?

At this point, Robb's expression was one of exasperation, "And what did Theon do to end up like this?" The straightforward kid answered, "Well... he may have insulted a God unconsciously. I tried to warn him, but..." Bran didn't have the time to finish as the Deity interjected, "It is of no matter. I was just teaching the young Greyjoy a lesson in humility. Nonetheless, he was quite lucky. If the Storm God was at my place today, he would be dust now, especially since he is an Ironborn."

The God then explained his duty to both. Robb then asked him, "Why don't the Old Gods use their power to solve all sufferings of man?" The Deity answered, "Young Stark, we have no power outside the Godswoods currently, but even if we had, as it was during the old times, we wouldn't intervene in some matters. Remember, mankind must not depend on the Gods. It is written in our testament." He cleared his throat and continued, "Not all Gods are benevolent and all-knowing. I preserve all the knowledge of the world, as I am the God of Knowledge, but the Drowned God, for instance, does not have the same level of understanding nor attitude as myself, for he is the Divinity of Plunder." Theon interrupted him as he asked, "You know the Drowned God?" He was excited to discover more of the God his people worshipped. Who could not wish to know?

"The Drowned God was not known as such in the Age of Heroes. His original name was the Golden God, as he blessed the first Ironborn raiders with good plunder. He had a longtime rivalry with the Storm God over the supremacy of the seas, but the Long Night came, and they had to interrupt their disputes. The Golden God led the most able of the Ironborn against the forces of one of the Great Enemies. The survivors of the battle told how the Golden God sacrificed himself to take down an enormous beast, and they called him the Drowned God in his honour. They believed he drowned in the deep ocean, for later to rise back, harder and stronger, and built a great hall in the depths of the Sunset Sea with the carcass of the great beast. We Old Gods believe this legend is true, since of late there were some strange movements near Orkmont, but after the Andals chopped most of our Godswoods, our vision diminished. We can only see as far as the Riverlands and some of the Iron Islands."

This was... incredible. Theon never felt so proud of being Ironborn, the sacrifice of his God to save mankind gave him a confidence he had never felt before. "I am sorry to interrupt, but do the Gods have control over time then? That is why Theon is a kid now?" The God answered, "Of course, we gifted people such as Garth Greenhand and the Grey King immortality. But all of them at one point decided to pass on: living a thousand years is more of a curse than a blessing, but those men needed to live longer to protect their people, so they sacrificed their happiness to duty." Robb nodded while appearing to be in deep thought.

"It seems we are done for today. Come here, Theon, and close your eyes." He did as the God asked, and as he reopened his eyes, he was back to normal. "Remember this day, Theon Greyjoy. It will be important." He continued, "Tomorrow will be an important day, as I will announce myself to the Lord of Winterfell. Please, bring him here at the same time as today. There is much to discuss." They thanked him and left the Godswood silently.

And that's a wrap!

I always forget to add the end chapter notes here on FFN, so this one is the first, Hurray! Before you say anything, nope, Gods won't be perfect. They all have their virtues and sins, and nearly all of the magic fuckery they will do will mostly be used to inform and to initiate the development of some characters, so don't worry, there won't be an ultra-super-duper Old God that will make everything beautiful and perfect. As always, thank you for reading, and I hope you have a great day!