Welcome back everyone! Honestly, don't have much to say leading into this one, other than I hope that you enjoy and please feel free to leave a review if you feel so inclined too. And thank you to everyone who has already reviewed, favorited or add this story to their alerts. You guys are really helping me keep motivated with this one! And another huge shout out to my brainstorm partner/beta reader for this story, Tellmicus Sundace.

Lastly, standard disclaimer; I do not own Game of Thrones, A Song of Fire and Ice nor Star Wars.


Chapter 7

Keeping a tight hold on his horse's reigns, Ned Stark had to resist the urge to press his horse into a faster pace as the landscape around them began to become steadily more and more recognizable as they grew closer to Winterfell. In comparison to his time at the Vale or during Robert's Rebellion, the Greyjoy Rebellion had caused him only to part from Winterfell for only a short duration of time, nearly two moons. But even then, it felt like an eternity. Especially with the news that awaited him once they'd returned to Northern soil. 'Cat has given birth. A son. A second son. The second child born of our union that I was not there to witness.'

"And these…Mandalorians, they are able to defeat your kind?"

Looking over his shoulder, Ned spotted his two new charges riding near the sorcerer that'd managed to change so much in such a short period of time. For pretty much the entirety of the boat ride from the Iron Islands back to the North, Ned was fearful that either Theon or Asha, Asha especially as she was the eldest, would try to bring some form of harm to Nox. An effort that would no doubt lead to either one or both Ironborn wards to be seriously injured at best, or dead at worst.

But to his utmost surprise, not only did that event not come to pass, but the exact opposite seemed to be happening. Both of his wards seemed to be growing somewhat fond of the sorcerer. Or, more accurately, Asha was relaxing and coming to terms with being in his presence and young Theon was following her lead in the matter. It helped immensely that Nox was so incredibly persuasive. The man had captured the imagination of Asha and young Theon early in their journey by telling them a few tales of his homeland. Whether they were true or not, Ned couldn't tell, and none of the tales revealed details or specifics of his home beyond what had already been discussed. But the tales had done their job in creating a sort of truce between Nox and the wards.

Asha seemed especially interested in the tales of these 'Mandalorians', as Nox called them. As did many of the Northern Lords and men, namely the Great Jon, who decided to accompany the Starks back north instead of heading south in order to participate in a Tournament that Tywin Lannister was organizing on orders from Robert to celebrate the defeat of the Ironborn. These Mandalorians were apparently a warrior sect from his homeland that were dedicated their lives to the art of war and honor. And were, by Nox's own accounts, men and women that were able to match the sorcerers and sorceresses, these Sith and Jedi, of his homeland step for step on the battlefield. Such a group was of great interest to the two wards, and to Ned as well. For any group of warriors that held to honor as Nox described, and could go match even the likes of Nox, were a people he was very interested in getting to know. For his part, Nox didn't seem to have any qualms about describing a sect of warriors that were capable of defeating those like him.

"Sometimes," Nox answered Asha. "A fight between a Mandalorian and a Sith or Jedi had no definite outcome. Although there were many who didn't believe it to be so. But just because one is skilled or powerful, does not make them invincible. A single lucky arrow fired when the target is not paying attention can fell even the greatest. So, what does that mean?"

"It means archery is better in combat?" Theon answered, to which Asha immediately slapped her brother upside the back of his head.

"Think first before sprouting off at the mouth, Theon," Asha chided her brother. "It means that it doesn't matter how strong or skilled you are, you can still die from an unforeseen attack."

"Exactly," Nox nodded. "One must remain vigilant and not allow their skills to become lax over time. The Mandalorians had that edge. Their entire life was dedicated to art of combat and – ah. I see that we have arrived already. Time certainly does pass one by when talking on a subject you enjoy."

Ned nearly jumped out of his saddle as he looked ahead and spotted the tall grey walls of Winterfell in the distance. 'By the gods…I need to stop getting so distracted by Nox and his tales.' Ned sighed before feeling his spirits lift at the thought of what awaited them within the walls of his home. "Come," Ned commanded, tapping his horse's flanks with his heels to set their pace at a trot. "We will be within the walls within an hour at this pace. Let us not delay any longer."

None of the men, or women, argued with him as the thought of the end of their long journey renewed their spirits. Within the hour they were passing through the walls of Winterfell, the warmth coming from the hot springs that warmed the keep washing over them. The main road that lead through Winterfell and towards the inner castle was lined with all the denizens of Winterfell as they came out of their homes to welcome their Lord and loved one's home. As they passed through another small wall and into the inner castle, Ned's joy increased tenfold as he spotted his wife, son and daughters standing in a line waiting for him along with Maester Luwin and Lord Manderly. His joy was dampened slightly at noticing how Jon had been forced to stand back several paces an in line with the servants of the Keep, but he pushed that out of his mind for now. There would be time to deal with his placement. For now, he wanted to hold his family and see the newest addition to the pack.

"My Lord Husband," Cat greeted him as he dismounted from his horse, a bundle held firmly in her arms. "Welcome home, my love."

"Cat," Ned smiled, approaching his wife and wrapping her in his arms, being careful not to disrupt the bundle in her arms. Despite the differences they had and no matter what Ned's heart constantly yelled at him, she was his wife, the mother of his children. And he truly did care for her. "It is good to be home."

Pulling back from him, Cat graced him with a smile that lightened her face. "Husband, I present to you your second true son."

Her statement wasn't lost on Ned, and he was glad that her words were said quietly enough to barely pass beyond the two of them. Taking the bundle from her arms, he carefully pulled back on the edge of the blanket, revealing a small face beneath. While Sansa and Robb may have taken after their mother in terms of their looks, Arya and the little one in his arms were without a doubt Stark. "He's perfect." Ned smiled, looking up at his wife. "What is his name?"

"Brandon Stark," Cat said proudly. "After your brother and the founder of your House."

"A good name." Ned nodded, handing his new son back to his wife, but not before leaning in and giving Cat a quick kiss. "Thank you, Cat."

Cat's eyes shined with happiness and pride as she stepped back and allowed Ned access to the rest of their children. "Robb, Sansa, Arya, come here you." He laughed as he gathered up his children, bestowing hugs and kisses between them all before finding himself before Lord Wyman Manderly.

The Lord of White Harbor had a smile on his face as he watched Ned disentangle himself from his children. "You will forgive me, my Lord, if I do not greet you as such. I'm afraid that not only would your arms not reach around me, but I fear my wife would get jealous if she hears the tale of me kissing someone else."

"Aye, I can imagine," Ned nodded, his mood light as he greeted the Lord. "I thank you, Lord Manderly, on behalf of House Stark for your aid during my absence. And the King sends his regards and thanks along as well. To you and your sons for their repelling of the Ironborn attack on Dragonstone."

Manderly's chest puffed out, an impressive feat considering the man's girth, at the praise. "I will ensure that my sons hear of the King's regards, my Lord."

Lastly, Ned made his way through the line and greeted his 'bastard' son. "Jon," Ned smiled, squatting down in front of the boy.

Jon seemed to be almost surprised at being greeted, but his face split into a wide smile and Ned could almost feel the joy emanating from the young boy. "Fa – Lord Stark. I am glad to see you."

"And I you, Jon," Ned smiled, ruffling the boy's hair. "Did you do as I instructed and support your brother during my absence?"

Jon's eyes flickered briefly towards the rest of his family. "Yes f – Lord Stark. As best I could."

"Good." Ned smiled again, before patting Jon on the shoulder and making his way back towards the line of men and women that'd rode with him.

Motioning his two new wards forward, Ned introduced them to his family. "Wife, children. This is Asha Greyjoy and Theon Greyjoy. From this moment onwards they are wards here at Winterfell and are to be treated as if they are part of the pack. Understand?"

"Yes, father."

"Yes, Lord Stark," his family and the servants of Winterfell answered as he ushered Asha and Theon forward.

"Good. Robb, Jon, please see Asha and Theon to their rooms. Maester Luwin, Lord Manderly. I would like to have words with you both before we attend the feast tonight. You as well, Nox. We need to discuss some of the ideas you talked to me about during the voyage home."

The courtyard immediately began to disperse as the people of Winterfell began returning to their assigned tasks. Behind him, Ned noticed Nox hanging behind for a moment, talking to the Ironborn woman and young girl that he rescued from Lorch. After a quiet conversation, he watched as Nox handed the two a small coin purse before making his way towards Ned.

"I wasn't sure if they'd had quarters assigned or not." Nox said, answering Ned's unasked question. "So, I gave them some coin to put them up in Winterfell for a week or so until we can iron out the details of what they'll be doing here."

'That's right,' Ned thought as the two made their way through the great keep and towards Ned's solar, followed closely by Luwin and Manderly. Once they'd arrived, Ned had to resist the urge to head straight for his bed, and instead made his way to his desk and sat down. "Alright," Ned began, looking at Maester Luwin and Lord Manderly especially. "Now that formalities have been observed, I want the truth. How did my son perform during my absence?"

"He performed admirably for a boy his age, my Lord," Wyman answered after taking a moment. "He was as patient as he could be when dealing with the smallfolk, and he wasn't afraid to ask for advice from either myself or Maester Luwin when dealing with certain matters. And anything that was presented that was too much of a decision for him, he was able to set the matter aside until your return."

Hearing how well his son of only seven name-days performed made Ned swell with pride. Robb would be a good Lord of Winterfell in the future. "And what of Jon?"

And the mention of his bastard, both Wyman and Luwin looked uneasy. "Young Jon…did his best to do as you instructed, my Lord." Luwin answered tactfully.

"Which is barely a half truth," Nox cut in before Ned could. "Something or someone was preventing Jon from giving Robb aid. Is that the truth?"

Again, both men looked uneasy. "My lord," Wyman began slowly. "It is not my place to question yours or your Lady of Winterfell's authority, especially in your absence. But the Lady Cat all but forbade young Jon from being present during court."

The joy that'd been steadily building within him turned slightly. 'Gods, I was hoping I wouldn't have to deal with this so soon.' "How was she preventing him? Did she outright forbid Jon from attending court at Robb's side?"

"No," Maester Luwin answered quickly. "But young Jon did have a fair amount of duties and chores to perform. And those usually prevented him from attending court alongside your heir."

Ned could see the truth between the words Luwin was speaking. Cat had assigned Jon extra work to keep him away from court and away from Robb. While not against what he'd commanded, his wife also hadn't abided by his word. It was not a pleasant situation. "I will have words with Cat regarding Jon and his future." Ned spoke after a long silence. Truthfully, it didn't matter what potential plans Ned might've had in mind for the boy a few months ago. Jon's future was now tied to Nox. "But for now, Nox has plans that we need to discuss the feasibility of achieving."

"Thank you, Lord Stark," Nox nodded, taking the offered opening. "Maester Luwin, how much glass have we managed to produce so far?"

"Enough to add an addition onto our existing glass gardens, but not enough to construct a new glass garden," Luwin answered almost immediately as if he were expecting the question.

"That is not enough." Nox sighed. "The air is growing colder with each passing day. Ideally, we need to construct a new glass garden or two before the snows come. We can still produce during winter, but it will be much harder to assemble the gardens when our men are ass deep in snow."

"The issue isn't the production, Master Nox," Wyman added, wiping at his forehead. "It's the materials."

"Then let us solve that issue through trade." Nox countered. "I'm sure Dorne would be open to trading with us considering our gift to them."

Wyman and Luwin cast one another a brief look of confusion. "Gift? Master Nox?"

"Aye, a gift." Ned nodded. "The hands of Ser Armory Lorch, who was found guilty through a Trial by Combat after he and his men were found raping a young mother and her daughter."

Maester Luwin blanched at the thought, while Wyman merely shook his head. "Should've figured that bastard would keep doing what he was doing. A shame the King didn't let us just execute the man after what he did at the end of the Rebellion. Who did he fight against?"

"Me," Nox answered. "The man was a butcher and a sadist, but in truth had little skill when it came to combat. I crushed him and his men. Literally and figuratively."

Not wanting to relive the fight, Ned moved the discussion forward. "Regardless of what happened, Lorch has finally been brought to justice. Wyman, I'm entrusting you to deliver our gift and open trade negotiations with Dorne."

"You honor me, Lord Stark," Wyman bowed. "I will deliver the hands personally and will not return without an agreement between the North and Dorne."

"I couldn't ask for a better choice to handle this, Wyman," Ned nodded his thanks. "We can discuss the details later, but for now, Nox has several more projects for us to start on. Some of which will require your assistance, Maester Luwin."

Maester Luwin perked up considerably. After Nox's showing of the glass, Ned knew that the aging Maester was excited to see what other secrets he could learn from the sorcerer. "Of course, my Lord. Master Nox, what plans do you—?"

A hand thick pile of papers dropping onto the surface of Ned's desk cut Maester Luwin off. 'Gods, where was he hiding all of that?' Ned wondered as he stared at the stack of papers of his desk. 'I swear the man has the ability to make objects appear and disappear at will! Although, considering the powers he showed on Pyke, such a thing is probably tedious for him.'

"We can start with some of the simpler projects," Nox began, picking up the first sheet of paper and handing it off to Luwin, who began to eagerly devour whatever was on the paper. "However, there is one item that we will need before we can proceed. And that is a steady supply of metal and the ability to make large quantities of high-grade steel as well. Have you managed to complete the blast furnace per the plans that I presented to you before the war began?"

Taking the offered paper from Maester Luwin, Ned looked down at the strange devise that was drawn in surprising detail on the page. 'It looks like a press of some kind. But for what?'

"The foundation has been laid for both the furnace and the windmill in Winter Town," Maester Luwin answered. "But I fear without your…unique abilities that construction has been slow. It will take at least another moon's turn or more before your 'blast furnace' can be used."

Nox winced at that. "Not ideal. At least it will give us time to gather the iron ore that we'll need. But for now, we can begin constructing various parts and pieces that do not require metal. And, while we're on the subject, I would like to ask something of you, Lord Stark."

Setting down the paper, Ned picked up another from the stack, this one depicting a strange metal coil of some kind. "What is it?"

"I would ask for your permission to begin renovations on the First Keep and the Broken Tower."

Setting aside the paper, which Wyman immediately picked up, Ned gave Nox his full attention. "To what end?"

Holding his hands behind his back, Nox spoke slowly as he outlined his plans. "The First Keep, you well know, is dilapidated and has been left in such a state for decades, if not centuries. During the winter years, it can house citizens of the North, but outside of that it serves little purpose. It is, for all intents and purposes now, a waste of space. I plan to change that for the better. We can transform the Keep into a place of ingenuity by using the empty halls and rooms as places to construct many of these items laid out before you. The metal and wood will be shaped and formed in Winter Town, and then shipped into the First Keep to be worked into their final purpose. We can also dedicate a section of the keep into a public bathhouse that feeds off the hot spring water that runs through the walls of not only the Great Keep, but also the First Keep as well."

"I see," Ned nodded, thinking the possibility over. There was merit to his words. And he was right in saying that, for now, the First Keep did nothing for them. "And what of the Broken Tower?"

"The tower would serve as an extension to the work being done in the First Keep, as well as place to house the workers," Nox explained. "And I would also seek to convert part of the Tower into a…college of sorts."

"A college?" Maester Luwin perked up. "A place of learning? Do you mean to separate the North from the Citadel?"

"No," Nox denied, shaking his head. "More like a supplement to the Citadel. But unlike your Maester Order who only takes on those of Nobility, and only men at that. The college would educate the lowborn as well as the highborn people of the North, both men and women who show promise."

Luwin frowned. "I would not be able to teach so many. My duties in teaching the sons and daughters of the Lord Stark as well as my other duties would not give me the time to do as you suggest."

"And I'm not suggesting that you teach. At least not to the masses." Nox countered. "Bethany and her daughter Hilda, the mother and daughter we brought back from the Iron Islands, are well educated. Their background is their own and I will not discuss it without their leave to do so. But I believe that Bethany is capable of teaching those that wish to learn. And from her, we can identify those who have sufficient skill and who are deserving of furthering their education by aiding and studying with Maester Luwin and even myself if I have the time."

The more Ned heard of Nox's plan, the more he wanted to see them come to fruition. The glass alone that Nox had gifted them had the opportunity to change the face of the North. Not only because it would allow them to create more glass gardens and therefore grow more of their own food. But eventually they would be able to start trading the glass with the other regions of the Seven Kingdoms and perhaps even in Essos. And if these, devices, that Nox was suggesting they make could have the same impact, then Ned was all for them.

"Maester Luwin, can our coffers support the renovation of the First Keep and the Broken Tower as well as see to the beginnings of these projects?" He asked.

Luwin scratched at the back of his head, looking off to the side. "The coffers are deep, my Lord. I would have to spend a few days with Master Nox going over the details for each plan and the cost associated with each. But I believe our coffers could support most of what is being proposed. However, it would heavily cut into the coin set aside to purchase food during the winter years."

"The coffers of White Harbor are open for your use on these endeavors, Lord Stark." Wyman cut in quickly.

With the coffers of White Harbor available to them, there was no question as to whether they would be able to afford most, if not all, of what Nox was proposing. But Ned knew he would have to ration how much he relied on the aid from Wyman. While the man was loyal and a good man, he could see his endgame. Wyman had two granddaughters after all, both of whom where near of age with Robb. If they relied too heavily on White Harbor, he would almost have to accept one of Wyman's granddaughters becoming the next Lady of Winterfell. Not an altogether uncomfortable choice, but one that he was not ready to make. Not yet at least.

"There are ways that we can cut some of the costs as well." Nox continued. "If we focus our efforts on creating one or two glass gardens in Winter Town, I can supply the caretakers of the gardens with seeds from my homeland."

That got Ned's attention, as well as the attention of the other two men in the room. "What kind of seeds do you have to offer?" Ned inquired. "And are they capable of growing in the glass gardens during the winter years?"

"They are," Nox nodded before elaborating further. "Parts of my homeland are not so unlike the North. It took a long time, but we eventually managed to cultivate plants that can grow in extreme climates such as North. And perhaps even the lands beyond the Wall."

"What kind of plants?" Luwin asked, his eyes alight with curiosity.

"A few grains, a specific type fruit, and a vegetable or two," Nox answered. "Nothing exotic, but they can sustain a population if you grow enough of them."

"Then that will be our first priority." Ned concluded, ending the discussion. "Lord Manderly, I invite you to rest the night and join me at the head table at the feast tonight. But I am sorry that I must ask you to return to White Harbor first thing in the morning and head for Dorne straight away. If we are to get the glass gardens built for these new plants before the first snows, we will need the resources to do so soon."

Wyman bowed as much as his gut would allow him to. "It is no trouble at all, Lord Stark. As you say, I will head out at first light and make for Dorne with all haste. And I won't return without a shipment of sand and a trade agreement with the Dornish."

"Good," Ned nodded, rising to his feet. "Now, gentlemen, I think that is enough for tonight. Let us head to the welcoming feast, and we can talk more while we're there."


Waking the next morning was a slightly more painful than normal process for Nox. Despite the shutters to his room being shut, the sun not yet cresting the horizon, and the fact that he was blind, the dim light shining on his unseeing eyes was far too bright. "Force," Nox murmured to himself as he slowly sat upright, only to immediately flop back down on his bed as he was hit with a wave of vertigo and nausea. "How much did I have to drink last night?"

"I believe the better part of a barrel of ale, Master Nox."

It was a testament to his state that he hadn't even realized that he wasn't alone in his room. With reflexes honed during the Trials of Korriban and his life after, Nox made to lash out with the Force towards the location of the voice in his room. The startled gasp made him pull back, just before the full force of his power could impact the other person in his room. "Nyra?" he half questioned as he painfully forced himself upright in his bed.

"Y–Yes, Master Nox," she answered, her voice shaky.

Cursing his reflexes, Nox placed his hand to his head and used the Force to purge the lingering effects of the alcohol still in his system. "I'm sorry about that," he said, rising to his feet and feeling far better than he had a moment before.

"I – I should be the one apologizing," Nyra muttered, her voice still slightly shaking. "I – I shouldn't have snuck into your room while you slept and startled you so, Master Nox. But what…what was that? It felt…so cold. Like – Like I was staring into the darkness of night. I – I –"

Reaching out to her, Nox laid a hand on each of her shoulders. Despite having stayed in Winterfell for nearly a month before heading out to the Iron Islands and having her be his unofficial shadow, he hadn't really taken the time to truly see her. She was younger than him, but only by a few years. Her face was narrow, her chin pointed, and her long black hair was tied back behind her head. She may not have been the most beautiful woman physically, but she wasn't unattractive in the slightest. But that was only part of what drew his interest in her. She had a strength within her. She wasn't Force sensitive, but there was still a strength within her that was shouting to be free. And that strength drew her to him.

Cupping her jaw with his right hand, Nox carefully let the Force flow through him and into her, soothing away her fear and the cold grip of the darkness that'd entrapped her. Once he'd felt her free from the grip of the dark side, he broke contact with her and stepped back.

Her body shifted forward as if searching for his touch. "Gods," she breathed, her breath coming in short rasps as she oriented herself. "That…That was…What did you do?"

"Chased the darkness away," he answered.

It was a trick he'd learned with Ashara when he first began to teach her the ways of the Sith. As Ashara was a Jedi, or rather a Padawan, she was heavily versed in the light almost to the point where touching the darkness would leave her a trembling mess. And as he had no use for a quivering Apprentice who couldn't touch the dark side, he was left with two options. Ditch her or develop a technique to help drive off the darkness when it became too much for her. And to this day, he didn't regret his decision.

"It felt…" Nyra murmured before shaking her head. "Sorry, Master Nox. It…It wasn't my place to make you-"

"There is nothing to apologize for." Nox countered, giving her a smile. "And please stop calling me 'Master Nox'. It's just Nox for you."

Nyra's smile brightened not only her face, but her presence in the Force to the point where she was almost shining. "Nox." She replied, as if testing out the name on her lips. "Is…Is there anything you need for your fast? Or anything I can get for you?"

"No," he replied, shaking his head. "But thank you for the offer. Right now, I need to get the godswood well before young Robb and Jon arrive for their first day of training under me."

"Very well Mas – Nox," Nyra said, bowing slightly to him as she slowly backed up towards the door. "If there is anything, and I mean anything, that I can do for you please ask. It is my honor and privilege to serve you."

Watching her leave, Nox couldn't help but notice the slight swing she put into her hips as she walked out of the room. "Force," he breathed, calling on his training in self-control to take care a certain problem that had arisen by her sauntering. "How long has it been that that is all it takes?"

Once he'd managed to get his baser urges under control, Nox donned his robes and set out towards the godswood, which by order of Lord Stark, would be where Jon and Robb would be undergoing their training. 'Once again, I have to admit that Lord Stark has surprised me.' Nox thought as he made his way out of the great keep. The cold northern air made him pause momentarily as he adjusted to the slight change in temperature. 'He is far more cunning that he appears. While the godswood is open to the citizens of Winterfell, there is only one true way in and one true way out. And that is through a guarded entrance. By training the boys in the godswood, he can control who knows what exactly their training will entail. And while he announced his intentions last night for Jon and Robb to train under my tutelage, he never specified just what I would be training the boys in. He still needs quite a bit of work, but at least he isn't a fool like many of the southern lords believe him to be.'

As he made his way past the guards and into the godswood proper, he began running what he planned to use to the teach the boys as he walked amongst the trees. 'I cannot train them like I was. They are not acolytes of Korriban. If I were to treat them thusly, then at the very least one of the boys would have to die at the hands of the other before their training could be considered complete. Something that I am sure Lord Stark, nor any of the Lords in this land, would approve of. Maybe except for Tywin. But no, I can use aspects of the Trials of Korriban, but they will not be the central point of the boy's training.'

In this, Nox considered himself fortunate considering his past apprentices. His first apprentice, and love, Ashara had nearly been a Jedi before he killed her instructors and took her under his tutelage. And as much as he taught her in matters of the dark side, she too taught him much of the light side of the Force. And his second apprentice, Xalek, was a true Kaleesh warrior who almost had more in common with the Mandalorians than he did with the Sith. Both, along with his own experience coming up through the Sith ranks, had given him a relatively unique appreciation towards how to train an individual. But still, training Robb and Jon would be a far cry than training Ashara or Xalek, or any of his other underlings he'd collected over the years. Robb and Jon would be the first two who would be becoming his acolytes without any prior experience. Meaning he'd have to start at the very beginning of what the Force was and what it meant to use the light side and the dark side of the Force.

By the time he reached the center clearing before the weirwood, he had a general idea about how to begin Jon's and Robb's Force training. But as he stepped through the trees, he found that he wasn't the first one to arrive this morning. Lord Stark was sitting on the large rock facing the weirwood with his back towards Nox. "Lord Stark," Nox greeted the man, making the Lord of Winterfell turn his head. "I hadn't expected to see you here this early."

"Nor I you," Stark replied. "The sun has barely crested the horizon."

Shrugging, Nox stepped up beside Stark. "I don't sleep much. And through the Force, one can forgo much sleep and still be at their peak."

Stark nodded absentmindedly. "I think I shall have need of such a technique if nights like last continue."

Reaching out to Stark through the Force, he found that despite being awake, Stark was barely conscious. His body was fatigued and his mind drained. "Lady Stark keep you awake all night in her welcoming you home?" he asked teasingly.

Stark huffed, a wave of unpleasant emotions rolling off him as he did. The most obvious of which was a general sense of self-loathing, which was accompanied with a quick flash of deep violet eyes. "Partially. But I found myself…troubled and unable to rest afterwards for my dreams refused to let me rest."

That got Nox's attention. The Force often manifested itself in strange and mysterious ways. But none was more prominent than when it manifests during one's dreams. "What kind of dreams, if you do not mind my asking."

Stark took his time before answering. "You may, and in fact, you might be able to help. I dreamt of the throne room within the Red Keep. At first, I thought I was merely dreaming of the nightmare that was the sacking of King's Landing, but this was something different. It felt so much more…real than any previous dream. I could almost command what I was doing in the dream. I'd looked around, and I didn't recognize a single person in the room. And on the Throne was a deformed creature wearing an…animal skin to try and hide itself. I remember speaking and hearing others speak, but I don't remember a word of what was said. And then…a sense of death and betrayal as a dagger was held to my throat. And then nothing but darkness."

Nox knew there and then exactly what it was. Stark had had a Force premonition in his sleep. "And what do you think this…dream of yours was, Lord Stark?"

Stark turned towards him, his very essence searching for answers. "Starks before I have had such dreams, as have others, Daenys the Dreamer perhaps being the most prominent example in history. My ancestors called them 'wolf dreams', and some say that King Torrhen Stark had such a dream the night before he decided to bend knee to Aegon the Conqueror. But I take it that, as the wolf's blood is more than it seems, so too are these wolf dreams."

"And you would be correct." Nox nodded, taking a step past Stark and towards the weirwood. "In my culture, they're known as Force visions. They can occur during a deep state of meditation and can be narrowed in scope by a well-practiced individual. Or, in your case, they can come and go during sleep or meditation but with no sense of control to what you're seeing, let alone where or when."

"But they are the future, are they not?"

"No," Nox denied almost immediately. "At least, not entirely. For the future is always in motion, and the only thing certain about the future is uncertainty. And such dreams or visions should be taken with a grain of salt. For if they are taken too literally, then the recipient may inadvertently create the very scenario they witnessed by trying to prevent it. I guess what I'm saying is that while Force visions should not be ignored, they shouldn't be considered as an absolute."

Stark went silent, the only noise the rustling of the leaves as the wind blew through the godswood. "That is why you have stayed in the North, isn't it?" Stark asked seemingly out of nowhere. "You had one of these Force visions, did you not? Something that showed you that you needed to stay here instead of heading anywhere else."

Again, Nox was impressed with the level of insightfulness displayed by the Warden of the North. 'Those foolish lords in the South think that he oblivious. And while he might be oblivious about some things, he is keen. Very keen. Lying won't work with him, not now. But I doubt he'd appreciate the full vision I received. Or he will overreact to it.'

"Yes, I did," Nox confirmed. "The morning of my first day here in Winterfell, I felt a pull from the Force. A pull that led me to this very spot. And when I stood before the weirwood, I was nearly struck blind. For the tree was shining in the Force like a beacon in the dead of night. Next thing I knew, I was thrown into a vision where I watched as a darkness emanating from the far north claimed the land. And just before the darkness was able to claim total victory, the vision started over as a new series of events played out. I do not know just how long I stood here watching countless potential futures flashed before my eyes, but in each one the darkness was able to conquer the land. Until the last vision I had. In this vision, the darkness failed. The specifics are lost to me as to what specifically led to the fall of the darkness, but there is one thing I know for certain. And that is without a strong North, the darkness will win. And the North can only be strong when under the leadership of the wolves of the North."

He could feel Stark's curiosity peak. "So that is why you are staying? To help House Stark grow strong to fight whatever darkness is approaching? But didn't you just say that these visions show not often be taken as truth?"

"I said the untrained should take Force visions with a grain of salt, Lord Stark," Nox corrected, turning back to Stark. "But I have been trained, for a long time and have delved deeper into the mystery that is the force than you can possibly imagine. But having said that, I too am apprehensive on taking some visions too seriously. But this vision, this was something else completely. Something that I'm still trying to figure out. And after seeing so many possibilities…it is a puzzle. But before you start thinking that I'm a selfless man whose doing this to better your House alone, let me quell those thoughts. For I too now live in this land. And if the darkness that I saw consumes this land, I too shall be consumed. And that is not something that I want to have happen. So, you see, by strengthening the North and House Stark specifically, I increase my own odds of surviving what is coming."

"That is…strangely reassuring," Lord Stark remarked, his words echoing the feelings emanating from him. "Do you know what this 'darkness' is? Or when it will attack?"

Shaking his head, Nox answered honestly. "No. And no. The darkness clouded my vision, which is…unusual to say the least. I was unable to see what this darkness was or when it will come. But we have time, that much I know for certain. Time to prepare. Years. Maybe even a decade or two."

Rising to his feet, Lord Stark stepped up beside Nox as the two men faced the weirwood. "I cannot ask my bannermen to ready for a threat that we don't even know truly exists. But for what it is worth, I believe you. The old gods only know why. But I believe you."

"And you have my thanks for saying such, Lord Stark."

"Ned."

Turning, Nox faced Stark. "Pardon?"

"Ned." Lord Stark said, turning towards him and holding out his hand. "My family and those I hold closest to me call me Ned."

Taking the offered hand, Nox gave Ned a grin, and as he did, he felt a slight shift in the Force. And judging by the slight tightening of Ned's hand, he felt it as well. "You felt that as well, didn't you?" he asked, to which Ned nodded. "Good. That means that we are on the right path. And our journey forward truly begins today."

"Aye," Ned nodded letting go of his hand. "I guess it does. Robb, Jon. Quit hiding behind that tree and come out. I thought I told you boys it wasn't polite to spy on conversations that were not for your ears."

Across the clearing, there was a sudden rustling of leaves and branches as first Robb then Jon sheepishly stepped out from behind the tree they were hiding behind. 'He's getting better at sensing presences. Remarkable progress for one his age and with such limited education in matters of the Force. If only I had managed to get to him when he was younger.'

"Sorry, father," both boys said almost simultaneously.

Accepting their apology, Ned turned to Nox. "I leave my sons in your hands, Master Nox. But I expect to be kept appraised of their progress and I want to be informed before their training turns too…physical in the future."

"As you wish," Nox nodded. "And by all means, you are welcome to stay as well. I'm sure you will be able to pick up a few tricks if you do."

"Would that I could," Ned sighed good naturedly. "But someone has to run the North. Boys, listen well to Master Nox and do exactly as he says."

Both Robb and Jon nodded vigorously. "Yes, father!"

With his peace said, Ned walked down the path towards the gate, leaving the three of them in the center of the godswood. "Come boys." Nox said, motioning towards the rock between the reflecting pool and the weirwood. "We have much to talk about today."

Both boys were almost bursting with excitement as they all but scrambled over one another in order to take a seat first. "Master Nox, are we going to learn that lifting trick you do with your hand today? Or that thunder and lightning magic Lord Umber was talking about last night? Or how to see these…visions you and father were talking about? Or are you going to teach us how to fight like you do?"

'Ah, youth. Always so eager to learn,' Nox thought with a rueful smile. 'We'll see just how long this youthful eagerness lasts once their training truly begins.'

"Eventually, yes. But not today. Nor tomorrow. No, first I must give you both an understanding of the Force. Which means for the first month at least we will be going over philosophy, history, tactics, and different aspects of the Force before you even begin to learn how to utilize it."

Both boys' excitement dampened significantly at that. "But that is all boring." Robb complained.

"To some, perhaps. But it is a necessary step. But if you are unwilling to the time to gain a foundation, then you will never be able to properly utilize the Force. And if so, then it is not worth my time to teach you and the path out is right over there. But if you take it, I must truly question whether or not you are capable of becoming the next Warden of the North after your father and will be informing him as such."

Both boys ceased their complaints. "Ready to listen now?" He asked, to which both boys nodded. "Good. Today we will start with the basics. The Force, as it is called, is not so easily defined. It is everything, and nothing. It is all around us. It surrounds us, penetrates us, binds us. Think of it like a river that runs through all things. And you two and I are stones in this river. We can divert the Force and bend it to our will, but only to a certain extent. And there are two aspects to the Force. The light side and the dark side. Both of which can be utilized by those who are capable."

Jon's hand tentatively rose. "Um, Master Nox…why would anyone want to use something…dark?"

"It has to do with philosophy, Jon," Nox answered. "I assume then that you two believe that because there are light and dark aspects of the Force that you both immediately categorized them as good and evil respectively, no?"

Both boys timidly nodded their heads. "Then would it surprise you both to learn that I was raised and taught the dark side of the Force almost exclusively until I met my wi – my first apprentice?"

Both boys' eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. "But you're not evil!" Jon all but shouted. "You – You saved me. You – You can't be dark."

"And that is the first thing we must eliminate. Your preconceived notions on what is good and what is evil," Nox lectured. "Both the light and dark sides of the Force can be used for good, or evil pending on your point of view. While it is far more complicated than what I'm about to say, the difference between the two can be summarized as thus. The light side focuses on peace and tranquility, while the dark side encourages strong emotions and domination. The true path lies in subscribing to both sides of the Force to a degree. You cannot allow yourself to fall too far into one aspect or the other. Fall too far into the light side, and you will become an emotionless husk of a person who cares for nothing, not even his own kin. I've seen those who've fallen so far into the light that they simply sat there emotionlessly as unspeakable acts of evil were happening around them, and they didn't lift a finger to stop it.

"On the other hand, the dark side can be just as treacherous. Fall too far into the dark side, and you will become a slave to your emotions, especially the strong emotions like hatred and desire. You'll begin lashing out at anything and everything you deem a threat to yourself, even if it is not. And in the end, you will become little more than a malformed monster that cares for nothing but your own power."

Pausing, he let his words sink in before continuing. "Both sides of the Force have codes of conduct to help emphasize that aspect of the Force. Now listen well and commit these codes to your memory, for we will be going over them and their meaning frequently in the months to come. The light side, or the Jedi Code is thus. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force. And Sith Code of the dark side is thus. Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I grain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me. Now, I hope you two listened well. Because we will be going through each of these codes, one line at a time, and discussing them."


Staring out over the city of Sunspear and the bay below from his private chambers within the Tower of the Sun, Doran Martell, Prince of Dorne, quietly pondered the latest oddity that'd been presented to him. Namely in the form of the Northern vessel that was anchored within the bay. Despite what many may have thought, Dorne did not hate the North nor the wolves. Not like they hated the stags and lions at any rate. If anything, the people of Dorne understood the Northerner's reason for rebelling against the crown. And Eddard Stark's actions at the end of the Rebellion with his demands that Gregor Clegane and Armory Lorch stand trial for murder and his subsequent leaving when the demand was denied heightened the people of Dorne's opinion of the man. That wasn't to say that they would ever be considered friends. But the North were one of the few people left in the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms that could safely dock at Sunspear without fear of reprisal.

"My Prince, Prince Oberyn has arrived," his ever-faithful bodyguard Areo Hotah announced, his deep rumbling voice carrying easily across the distance that separated the two.

"See him in," he commanded, not turning around from his view of the bay. "And then make sure that there are no unwanted ears nearby. I will be having private words with my brother."

"Yes, my prince," Areo drawled, his heavy feet telling of his quick retreat from the room.

What little peace he managed to find was quickly blown away as the doors to his chambers opened forcefully. "Brother, I hope that you know that you pulled me away from a most wonderful time I was having with my delightful Ellaria and a few of the new girls in the city."

"Your urges can wait, Oberyn." Doran stated, turning and facing his brother. The pain in his knees flaring slightly but not enough to prevent him from moving. "We have matters to discuss."

Quirking an eyebrow, Oberyn's gaze flickered towards the port, namely the northern ship anchored in the bay. "Yes, I suppose we do. I don't suppose you'll tell me why you haven't demanded that northern ship to leave our shores lest they want to taste our spears?"

"No, I haven't. And neither will you, Oberyn," Doran stated forcefully. While intelligent and skilled beyond belief in combat, subtlety was often lost on his younger brother. And the best way of dealing with him was often by being blunt. "That ship brought Wyman Manderly to our shores. And he is staying in the Tower of the Sun until our dealings are done. And you will be civil towards him during his stay."

Oberyn didn't bother to hide his look of contempt at the name. While his brother was of the similar mind as the rest of Dorne regarding the North, he still held them responsible for the death of their sister and her children. "So, the only man in the whole of the Seven Kingdoms who can rival the fat flower in terms of girth has decided to waddle his ass down to Dorne. No doubt at behest of his wolf masters. And you are allowing him to not only stay in Sunspear for a time, but in the Tower of the Sun. The very same tower where Elia, our sister, was raised alongside us. Why?"

"Because I said so, brother," Doran countered harshly, meeting his brother's cool gaze with a look of his own. "And you will respect my decision."

Doran held his brother's eyes, unwilling to look away. Shortly enough, Oberyn broke their lock and turned his head away. "Very well, brother," he conceded, albeit reluctantly. "So then, tell me why the fat mermaid has come to Dorne."

"His purpose is twofold," Doran explained. "The first was to deliver a gift to Dorne. The second was to establish a trade agreement between the North and Dorne."

Oberyn's face turned quizzical. "A gift? What kind of gift could the northern barbarians offer us?"

"Something we have sought after for years, brother," he answered, motioning towards a table along the wall of the room where a lone chest sat. "Compliments of the Starks."

Frowning, his brother made his way over to the chest and lifted the lid. When he spied what laid inside, he froze, just as Doran had done when he first laid his eyes upon the hands and the signet ring that lay within. "That…ring has a manticore on it, brother," Oberyn said, his voice low. "The sigil of House Lorch."

"And those are the hands of Armory Lorch," Doran continued, answering his brother's unasked question.

His brother stayed unusually quiet as he stared down at the severed hands that'd been gifted to them. A small piece of vengeance delivered by a House they had little love for. "Who?"

"A new vassal under the command of House Stark who fought against Lorch and several of his men on his own during a Trial by Combat after Lorch was found raping a mother and her young daughter by the Northerners." Doran replied, taking a seat as his gout began to flare to point where he could no longer ignore it. "A new vassal, who just happens to be a sorcerer of no small power."

That got Oberyn's attention. If there was one thing that could get his brother's attention outside of carnal delights or a good fight, it was the arcane. "A sorcerer?"

"Yes, according to Lord Manderly, and I find that he has little reason to lie." He knew what he was about to say next would not be taken well by his brother, but he had no choice but to withhold the information from his brother to prevent him from doing something rash. "For I have also heard a tale of this sorcerer from one of our spies."

Predictably, Oberyn spun around to him, his eyes alight with anger. "You – You knew that Lorch was dead?!"

"I didn't say that," he replied, skirting around the truth. In truth, he had heard the tale that Lorch had met his demise, but he didn't trust a single source of information with something so vital. But before he could get confirmation, Lord Manderly had arrived with the hands of the man to confirm his death, and everything else that Doran had heard. "I heard of this sorcerer. How he has sworn allegiance to House Stark. How this single man stormed Pyke by himself and managed to bring the krakens to heel."

Pacified for the moment, Oberyn's posture relaxed. "Perhaps I should head north to secure this supposed trade agreement and to see the truth for myself."

While Doran was interested in learning more about this sorcerer as well, mostly with how he would affect their long-term plans, he was not about to send his brother to do it. "No, you won't. At least not now." Doran said, ending his brother's hopes to learn more of the arcane. "I have a different task for you to perform."

"And what task would that be, brother?" Oberyn asked.

Adjusting his legs and rubbing his knees, Doran brought up the next piece of information that Manderly had confirmed for him about the sorcerer. "Something that I feel you will be well suited for. I need you to travel across the Free Cities of Essos to try and find any tale of this sorcerer so we might discover his origin."

Taking the chair across from him, Obery poured himself a glass of wine and took a small drink. "And why would you believe he hails from Essos? In the old days, it was not uncommon for those with the blood of the First Men to possess magic. Not so unlike our own Rhoynish ancestors and their water magic."

"Because the man has the look of a pure Valyrian," Doran said, making Oberyn pause mid-sip. "A fact which has not endeared him to the Usurper, but the fool was unfortunately able to overlook his hatred for all things related to the dragons after he witnessed just what the man was capable of."

Setting his glass down, Oberyn peered off into the distance deep in thought. "The Free Cities are vast, brother. It will take me some time to search them all. And while his looks might point towards the Free Cities, would it not be better to start at Qarth or Asshai?"

"Perhaps, but for now we will start with what we know about the man," Doran said. While Asshai and their Red God were a possibility, he doubted the man was from Qarth as it was unlikely that a Warlock from the House of the Undying would ever leave. "We don't need to know his whole history. Just any clue as to his origin will suffice."

Nodding, Oberyn finished off the last of his wine. "Well then, I guess I will be off on the first ship to leave for Essos. Ellaria has wanted to venture through Essos again. And I'm positive that I can find certain things to keep the both of us entertained while searching for any information on this sorcerer."

"Good," Doran nodded. "And there are two more aspects about the sorcerer that might help you narrow this search. While Lord Manderly was vague about the man's potential origins, I can conclude that the man was either a servant or a slave early in his life. And the second, and much more telling aspect about him, is that he is blind. And he wears an ornate cloth to cover his scars."

"A blind man?" Oberyn questioned. "A blind sorcerer, who has the martial prowess and arcane power to kill Lorch and his men in a Trial by Combat, and then lay siege to Pyke nearly by himself? This man is becoming more and more interesting with each word you speak, brother."

"That he is. I will continue to subtly question Lord Manderly about the man during trade talks. And there is one more task I ask of you while you are in the Free Cities." Pulling out a scroll from the inner lining of his robes, he held it out for his brother to take. "This is for your eyes-only brother. Yours and the intended recipient."

Picking up the scroll, Oberyn quickly opened it and read its contents, his eyes growing wider with each passing line he read. "Are you sure about this?" Oberyn asked as he rolled the scroll up and tucked it into the interior of his vest.

"There is always a chance when you play the game of thrones, brother." Doran stated. "But with this sorcerer now in the game, we have to be even more cautious with how we play our hand. That is why that is not a full agreement. Not yet at least. Should the sorcerer prove to not be as big a threat or if he can be swayed, then it will become such."

"I see," Oberyn nodded. "Well then, if that is all, brother, I will be off. I wish to say goodbye to my daughters before Ellaria and I head out on our adventure."

"Safe travels, brother." Doran nodded. "And may you find success in both of your endeavors."


Leaning against the arched window in his room within the renovated Broken Tower of Winterfell, Nox watched as light flurries of snow slowly drifted down from the sky to the ground below. 'Two years,' he thought, as the snow fell past the window. 'Two years I have been living this new reality of mine. Never in a million years would I have thought that I would find myself stranded on a preindustrial world. Yet here I am. But even then, this experience has been something else entirely.'

Reaching out with his senses, he didn't stop the swelling of pride within him as he assessed the ancient stronghold of House Stark below him. Despite the heavy snowfall that'd started barely a few months after their return from ending the rebellion on the Iron Islands, many of the projects Nox had been hoping to get started had gone off relatively smoothly. Or perhaps, it was because of the heavy snowfall, that could put even a blizzard on Hoth to shame, that he was able to help the Northerners achieve so much in such a short amount time. After all, what was there to do as the snow drifts climbed more than halfway up the walls of Winterfell?

After their return from the war and with the threat of winter weighing upon them, Nox had moved to personally oversee the final phases of construction for additional small glass garden within the walls of Winterfell, at nearly square acre in size secondary glass garden tucked nearby the homes of Winter Town and the windmill and blast furnace situated just beyond the outskirts of Winter Town. Getting the glass gardens finished in time had allowed the farmers and gardeners within the Stark lands to prepare the soil enough that they were able to begin planting seeds before the first snow reached them. While most of what was grown was native to the land, the seeds that Nox had within the small survival bag had proven a huge boon to the people. The fruit, vegetables, and grains that he provided grew faster and larger than anything the northerners had seen before. When asked about them, he made up a tale about how these plants were the mainstay of the food production of his home and had been chosen as such due to their size and quick germination period. Of course, he didn't tell them that each of those plants had been heavily genetically engineered to grow so large and so quickly, let alone in such harsh conditions. But even if he did, he doubted that anyone would be able to understand the explanation.

While the additional glass gardens and the blast furnace were the two primary changes to the land before the first snow, they were not the last. Merely the most important to get the other projects that could be started during the wintertime. But before they could make anything, they needed the raw materials necessary. Primarily iron and other metals to be smelted in the forge to create the steel. The solution to that problem came from perhaps one of the last places Nox expected. An old journal belonging to Lord Rickard Stark, Ned's father, recently discovered by Maester Luwin that'd been misplaced in the library by the previous Maester of Winterfell. In it, the former Lord of Winterfell noted the possible discovery of an iron vein in the mountains near Winterfell. But before he could order a crew to scout the area, he received word that his son Brandon had ridden to King's Landing and demanded justice for his kidnapped sister. And that was the last entry in the book.

Ned had understandably been furious that the journal belonging to his late father had been misplaced for so long. And when he inquired as to how such a thing happened, Maester Luwin had no answer to give. Not unless they were to bring Maester Walys back from the dead and ask him. But regardless of how the book got lost, they now had it. And so, before the snows could set in, Ned had sent out nearly two hundred men with mining equipment to not only scout the area noted, but to begin mining as well. The vein the men discovered apparently went deep, and not only was there iron, but they also discovered a copper vein nearby as well.

With the blast furnace operational and with a newly discovered vein of iron and other metals that laid within the mountains near to Winterfell, Winter Town was able to supply the smiths and craftsmen of the North with a decent amount of high-grade steel before they were forced to close down the mine due to the snow making such operations near impossible to complete.

While he would've preferred more steel to work with, and more raw iron would be arriving via trade vessels in the future, Nox had more than enough to set the smiths of Winterfell to work. The first project thing he had them make were the parts necessary to make a prototype printing press. The theory and make up behind the press were easy. What was not easy was the careful crating of the individual letter blocks that would then need to be carefully arranged on the printing plate. It'd taken him months into the winter, but eventually he managed to get the press assembled and have enough letter blocks crafted to give Ned and Luwin a demonstration as to what the device was capable of. While Luwin was not necessarily impressed by the speed of which it took to assemble a single printing plate, he quickly changed his tune once he saw just how fast the press could print paper once it was set. The best of scribes could write maybe two to three pages an hour, whereas the press could print nearly twenty in the same amount of time.

The second, a much easier item, that Nox set about making were metal springs. Once again, the blacksmiths were more than a little confused as to why he wanted them to make a coil of thin metal, but after the first few were made Nox showed them how they could be attached to a carriage to create shocks. The smiths immediately stopped questioning whatever he told them to make after that. And with more than a little bit of ingenuity on behalf of the smith Mikken, they were able to create smaller, more compact springs to which Nox showed them how to create the first spring mattress.

With those two inventions, the smiths of Winterfell were working almost night and day in order to create as many parts for the press and springs. While they didn't have enough yet to begin trading, there soon would be. And Nox was positive that both would be highly sought after throughout the realm and bring in no small amount of coin.

Not that coin was necessarily a problem now, not with the amount of glass they were producing. Lord Manderly had gone above and beyond when he went to Dorne to begin trade negotiations, and now the North was receiving almost more sand than they could process. At first, the glass makers of Winterfell focused on creating glass panels for future glass gardens. But within a relatively short amount of time they had a stockpile of glass enough to build at least two more acre-sized glass gardens with some to spare. With such a surplus, the glassmakers had turned to the excess and started to experiment. And without him even needing to drop the suggestion, one enterprising glassmaker created a glass blowing technique. And now they were making glassware and ornate glass pieces. The first shipment of which had already headed south to King's Landing with a spring mattress and, judging by the raven they'd received a short time ago from the King, the items were very well received. Especially amongst the nobility. And now orders and promises of gold were flowing into Winterfell with each new raven that landed.

Hearing the door to his chambers open, Nox let himself smile as he felt the familiar and comforting presence that'd just waltzed into his room. "Nox, I have the reports from the laborers of Winter Town as well as the glassmakers and smiths here in Winterfell. Maester Luwin has passed on a raven from White Harbor about the latest shipment of iron ore and sand. And Lady Bethany has finalized her recommendation for two students to enter under advanced tutelage."

Pushing away from the window, Nox turned and faced Nyra properly. The woman before him now was almost unrecognizable from herself before his arrival. Over the past two years, he'd spent almost as much time with her as he had with Jon and Robb, his acolytes. Under his guidance, she'd learned how to read and write as well as gaining a firm grasp of mathematics. As his projects evolved and became more and more complicated, he started to rely on her to handle some of the more mundane tasks, mostly writing reports and organizing shipments. And she had excelled at every task he'd given her. In a relatively short amount of time, she found herself relieved from her duties as maid in the great keep and reassigned to be his personal assistant. A transition that caused no small amount of rumors to begin circulating around Winterfell.

"Start with the raven from White Harbor." Nox said, making his way around his makeshift office and to the desk where numerous books lay open.

Nodding, Nyra set down the arm load of parchment she was holding onto her own workstation before sorting through them and selecting one. "According to Lord Manderly, the ships sent to Essos have returned with two thousand pounds of raw iron ore. And the ships from Dorne and Dragonstone should be passing by the Vale soon. Each of which should have a thousand pounds of sand and other ingredients onboard."

Nodding to himself, Nox began running calculations through his head as to how long the raw materials would need to arrive here at Winterfell. Unfortunately, with the White Knife frozen over the cargo would have to be transported by land, through the snow. Which would more than double the amount of time it would normally take for them to arrive. "Send a message to Winter Town and tell them to begin preparing the blast furnace for the arrival of the ore. Lord Stark wants this next batch to be used to craft weapons and armor rather than parts."

Picking up a quill from an ink pot, Nyra made a few quick notes before turning to the next missive. "The glassmakers' quota for glass panes for the month has been met and they are ready to begin shipping them out."

Flipping through his own notes, Nox found his notes from the last meeting he'd had with Ned about the glass gardens. "Lord Stark wants this shipment to be sent to White Harbor so that they can begin construction of their own new glass gardens. We'll use the transports that are carrying the iron ore and sand to send the glass to White Harbor." Nyra nodded, making more notes as he talked. "How many students has Bethany recommend for further tutelage?"

"Two," Nyra replied, flipping her paper over yet again to read the report from Bethany. "A young girl from Winter Town whose mother is a…well that's not important. And a glassmaker's son as well."

Bethany had validated his trust in her and her daughter several times over since arriving in Winterfell. The ex-noblewoman had taken no time at all in setting up a small school room within the confines of Winterfell and a second in Winter Town. She then began teaching two days a week, once in each set up classroom. At first there were very few children and even fewer adolescents that went to her class. But within a month's turn or two, word of her teaching how to read, write, and how to perform basic math spread and her classes filled to the point where she had to add an additional class in Winter Town just to keep up with all of the students she had.

"I'll trust in her judgement then," Nox nodded. "Set up rooms for the both the boy and girl here in the lower levels of the tower, near to Bethany's chambers. And be sure to remind them of the limits here in the tower. And set them to task with creating printing boards."

Nyra nodded and quickly began to write out the request to receive the necessary furnishings from Winterfell's steward Vayon Poole. After having completely restored the Broken Tower to its former glory, Nox had immediately set about carving out sections of the tower for specified uses. The lower levels were to be the future site of the dormitories that would house the students of the Winterfell college while the middle levels contained a small library and lecture halls. The top four layers of the Tower however were reserved solely for Nox. And the only ones allowed entry were Lord Stark and his family, Maester Luwin, Steward Poole, and whoever else Nox allowed entry too. The topmost layer was Nox's own personal chambers, while the level just below, where he currently was, was his office. The next level down was a dedicated training and mediation chamber, while the level just below that were to be where Nox would house his future Force acolytes. But as his only acolytes were Jon and Robb at the moment, both of whom had rooms in the great keep, the only other occupant in the upper most levels of the tower was Nyra. Which of course did absolutely nothing to quell the rumors circulating about the two of them.

"Is there anything else, Nox?"

"No," he replied before holding out his hand and summoning his cloak and lightsaber to him from across the room. "Please see to it that the orders are filled out and submitted to Poole for Lord Stark's approval by the evening meal."

"Of course," Nyra nodded with a smile. "When have I ever let you down, Alim?"

His name leaving her lips brought a smile to his face and a swelling within his chest. "Well," he said, walking up to her and slowly wrapping her in his arms. "There is a first time for everything."

Lightly touching his lips to hers, Nox let himself go as he held her in his arms. Despite what the rumors of Winterfell said, their relationship, at least the physical aspect of their relationship, was still new. And it wasn't quite to the point where they were sharing a room. Not for a lack of her trying though. But the pain of losing Ashara had cut Nox deeply. It'd taken him a long time to heal. And while his heart still ached when thinking of his lost love, it was nowhere near as painful now that Nyra had slowly made her way into his heart.

"Enough," she breathed, breaking their kiss and forcing him to take a step back. "If you keep doing that, then I won't let you leave your room. And you have a training session with Lord Robb and young Jon to attend. Don't want to leave your acolytes on their own. Especially not today. Word is you're going to putting the boys through sparring practice today. And you know how much they have been looking forward to this. I bet they're both already in the godswood waiting for you. And the Greyjoy lad who's taken to following them around like a lost pup."

Pulling back from her, Nox pushed his emotions and wants down and let himself seep back into the pull of the dark side ever so slightly. It would not do to be soft. Not today. "I doubt that they will be feeling the same once they realize just what they will be going through."

Leaving Nyra to her work, Nox began to descend from his chambers. Her didn't make it very far, however. For as he was passing by his private meditation and training chamber, he felt a very familiar presence coming from within. It wasn't the presence that made him stop, he'd given her permission to use his meditation chambers when needed, but rather the feelings of frustration, anger, and more than a slight amount of amusement that was coming from within. Deciding that whatever had happened needed to be addressed sooner rather than later, Nox ducked into the room.

His meditation room was rather spartan, having only had a short time to set the room to his liking and lacking several things he required. A single window provided the light for the room, which was mostly empty save for the six large round stones he'd levitated up into the tower that were arranged in a hexagon pattern in the center of the room. Besides the stones, the only other objects in the room were three wooden training dummies of various design made of ironwood along the far back wall. And it was against one of these dummies that he found Asha, practicing a few of the hand to hand combat techniques he'd shown her.

Standing just within the entrance, he watched the young woman move through the steps he'd shown her, her arms and legs connecting the various 'limbs' that were attached to the dummy as she ran through the kata. Waiting until she'd finished, Nox cleared his throat loudly, making her start slightly as he approached. "When I said that you could have access to these rooms, I did not envision that you would abuse the privilege so thoroughly."

Asha merely snorted at that. "Just needed to hit something after dealing with that woman."

Shaking his head, Nox immediately put together the source of her anger. While his relationship might not have been the best with Lady Stark, mostly due to her belief that the Force was magic and therefore a creation from the Seven Hells that should be either purged from the lands or avoided like a plague, he at least was able to keep a civil tone with the woman and the Septa Mordane thanks in no small part to his years of practice amongst the Sith. Asha had no such practice. And she had no problem telling the Septa and Lady Stark exactly what she thought of them both and their views on what was 'proper' for a woman. "And by that woman, are you referring to Lady Stark or the Septa?"

"Septa," Asha snorted. "Although I'm sure by now she's gone and told Lady Stark exactly what I told her. And that cold fish will no doubt want to have words about my 'unsightly' behavior."

Shaking his head, Nox stopped a few paces short of her. "And what happened exactly?"

Knowing he wasn't going to let it go, Asha stepped away from the dummy. "She made a remark on how if I didn't start behaving properly as a 'lady' of my station should, then she was going to switch my ass raw."

"And what did you tell her in return?"

At this, Asha hesitated a moment. "I told her that if she comes within ten paces of me with a switch then I was going to shove my axe up her withered, crusty, unused cunt."

"Impressive word usage." Nox nodded. "But altogether, unwise. We've spoken about this before have we not? That while your anger does you credit, there is a time and place for it. And that this not here and now."

He could almost taste Asha's shame. "Yes…Master."

"Yet the lesson has not sunken in apparently." Nox remarked, stepping away from her. "Perhaps, I have been too lenient in your training then and I must make my point more…forcefully."

Force lightning arched from his fingertips, slamming into Asha and sending the young woman to the ground, crying out in agony. Her screams would've undoubtedly raised an alarm had Nox not been actively using the Force to make the room completely soundproof. Holding her under the torment for a few seconds, Nox ceased his attack, leaving Asha gasping on the floor as she tried to recover. "Stand. And remember, you are the one who asked for this."

Nodding her head, Asha slowly rose back to her feet and pulled on her slight connection to the Force to fight through the pain coursing through her body. It hadn't taken Asha long to put together the meaning behind his cryptic comments back on Pyke when he'd first encountered her. And after witnessing Jon and Robb lifting rocks with the Force, she'd immediately approached him and demanded to be trained as well.

Unfortunately for Asha, she had two aspects working against her when she was compared against Jon and Robb. The first was that her Force connection was far less potent than the two boys, or indeed any of the Stark children. While her tenacity and ruthlessness would've allowed her to survive the Trials of Korriban for some time, she would've never been able to become a full Sith. But this wasn't Korriban. And with such limited resources at his disposal in terms of acolytes, he couldn't afford to be picky in who he trained.

The second aspect that was working against her was her sex. While the North and the Iron Islands could be more liberal about a woman's place in the world, unfortunately Lord Stark was not of the same mind. Not entirely. Oh, Nox was sure that in time he could convince him, and he would have to due to Arya being potentially just as powerful as Jon. But the shadow of his sister and her 'reckless ways' still weighed heavily on the mind of the Warden of the North. And that was without Lady Stark pressing her views on what a woman's place was.

So, in the end, while he had agreed to train her, he was doing it in secret. Away from the eyes of Starks and everyone else. Although he was pretty sure that Ned knew what was happening. The man had honed his ability to sense aspects of people through the Force though the years. And he had to have known that Asha's power was growing steadily.

He had intended to train her like he was Jon and Robb, but she had nixed that quickly. She didn't want him to take it easy on her. If she couldn't be as powerful as he, which he had bluntly told her so, then she wanted to be as strong and skilled as a Mandalorian. It was an ambitious goal. And one that confirmed his thoughts on just who should be the one to take over the Iron Islands in the future. So, he'd agreed to her request. And while he was still teaching her both aspects of the Force, he was not taking it easy on her.

"Good," Nox nodded approvingly as she fought through the pain. "While I am teaching the boys, you are to stay here and meditate. Use your anger, your fear and your drive to grow stronger to help you delve into the Force. And by the time I return, you will be do three rotations of the stones. Understood?"

Asha's eyes widened before flickering to the hexagon of stones in the center of the room. He'd carefully crafted each stone in a rough copy of muntuur stones. While none were as heavy, they were still a good training tool. "Yes, Master." Asha nodded, making her way to the center of the room and kneeling between the stones.

Leaving her to her meditation, Nox gave her one last passing glance through the Force before leaving her alone. He had no fear of her not doing exactly as he'd instructed. She'd made that mistake only once before. And he made sure she fully understood what it meant to disrespect her Master in the future. And since then, she'd not once failed to do as instructed.

Descending through the Tower, Nox passed by the empty chambers that would soon belong to the two new initiates, as well as the ones belonging to Bethany and her daughter before making his way across a short bridge and entering the First Keep.

Much like the once 'Broken Tower', the First Keep had been renovated. Though, granted, less than a third of the Keep had been cleaned up and made useable. And that third had been divided up into staging rooms for the printing press, apartments for glassmakers and smiths, as well as a public bath. In time, Nox hoped to renovate the entirety of the First Keep so that the upper layers were primarily apartments for the workers, while the lower levels would become production facilities. He was still trying to introduce the idea of somewhat modernized manufacturing to Lord Stark and the rest of the North. But they were starting to come around to his way of thinking. Especially as they began to see just how efficient some of the processes could become.

Walking out of the First Keep, his ears immediately picked up on the sounds of sparring and loud voices coming just a short distance away. Knowing exactly what was going on, Nox walked towards the commotion. The training grounds of Winterfell were near standing room only as hundreds of men of the North trained under the careful eye of the Captain of the Guard, Ser Jory. Keeping his distance to not interrupt the training, Nox reached out with his senses to get a better look at how the men were faring.

Unfortunately, this was one aspect that Nox had not been completely successful in. While many aspects of his training program were being utilized, it was nowhere near what Nox thought to be enough. He'd wanted Ned to form a professional army that numbered in the tens of thousands. But unfortunately, that just wasn't feasible. Mostly due to the current mindset of Westeros as a whole. Lords had Knights that they could call upon and levies that could be raised during times of war. But no Lord, not even the King, had a true standing army of professionals. That, and the fact that the North simply couldn't afford to keep such an army paid for a long time all but killed his first outline.

But Stark had seen the value in much of what he'd suggested. So, he'd implemented a new order. All men and boys of age that lived on the Stark land would attend military training for one month each year. For that month they would live in Winterfell and train day and night under the guidance of Ser Jory, Ser Rodrik, and even Nox himself when he had the time. It wasn't perfect, nor anywhere close to what Nox wanted, but it was better than nothing. At least now, when the time came to call the banners to war, the levies would at least know the difference between their polearm and their cock.

But now, with winter fully set in, there were many in Winterfell that had nothing but time on their hands. Which meant more time to train the men. Currently, the men and boys were doing circuits around the obstacle course Nox had designed, and then ran when Jory said that such a course could not be done in the any reasonable amount of time. "Come on, you lackwits!" Ser Jory yelled, picking up a man who'd just fallen to the ground and forcing him to keep moving. "You're men of the North! Not some silly southern pussy! Now get your asses moving!"

'Well, at least they're actually managing to complete the course. Although the amount of time it took for them to realize that they would need to help one another to complete the course is more than a little worrying. But, hey, better late than never, I guess.'

Deciding not to interfere with the drills, Nox quietly made his way away from the First Keep and towards the godswood. Despite the changes to the once Broken Tower and the First Keep, relatively little else had changed throughout the rest of Winterfell since his arrival over two years ago. The only real noticeable difference in the layout of the castle was the extra glass garden behind the main keep, and the expansion of the forges to accommodate the glass smiths and metal smiths that'd begun making their way towards Winterfell looking for work.

Passing by the great keep and the glass gardens, Nox made his way into the godswood, the two guards stationed just outside the entrance not even bothering to stop him as he passed them by. Making his way through the trees, Nox wasn't surprised as he made it to the weirwood in the center of the godswood and found that he was not the first one to arrive. Jon was already there, dressed in training clothes and holding a weighted training blade in his hands as he moved through the steps of Form III Soresu, one of Nox's preferred forms due to its ability for defense and to allow him time to utilize the Force during combat.

Staying out of sight, Nox observed the boy as he went through the motions. Of the four he was training now, well three really, and only two of them officially as Theon unfortunately had next to no Force sensitivity unlike his sister. Jon was without a doubt the most promising pupil he had. Outside of his high Force aptitude, which was well more than enough to make him a favored student on Korriban, the boy had a drive to prove himself that far outmatched any of the others. And he knew exactly why that was. He wanted to cast aside the title of bastard that a select few in the castle made sure he was reminded of almost daily. He wanted to prove that he was more than that. And that desire to prove himself and the anger that festered at the title gave him the ability to progress at a rate that was almost astonishing.

"Left foot forward by six inches and angle your right arm down more during that sequence to help maintain your balance."

Jon stopped almost immediately, turning on his heel and bowing to him. "Master Nox."

Stepping out from the trees, Nox made his way towards his most promising acolyte. "Again."

Nox didn't need to clarify as Jon immediately began running through the Form again. As he went though, Nox would periodically make him hold certain positions or ask him questions as to why some moves were performed as they were, testing both the boy's stamina and his knowledge. After running through the entire Form twice more, Nox called a stop to the exercise. "Enough. Your brother and Theon have arrived as well as the others."

Turning his back on Jon, Nox faced towards the lone path that led through the godswood. Ned was walking in front of the group with Ser Rodrik next to him along with Theon and Robb. And behind them were fifteen men at arms that were carrying tourney blades and looked more than slightly nervous as to why they'd been allowed access to the godswood while Nox was instructing. It was no secret in Winterfell that Nox was instructing the boys, but in the past two years, no one had seen the boys use the Force at all. But today, that was going to change.

"Nox," Ned nodded to him in greeting before taking his customary place near the weirwood with Ser Rodrik following close behind him.

With the Lord of Winterfell moving away, the Stark men at arms awkwardly shifted in their place while Jon joined Robb and Theon in a line before Nox. As he did, he couldn't help but notice the slight spike in resentment that wafted off Theon. It was obvious to all that there was no love lost between Jon and Theon. Theon was older, larger, and the 'heir' to the Iron Islands. And in his mind that made him inherently better than anyone else, especially a 'bastard'. Yet Jon had managed to utterly defeat Theon in everything that the two boys competed in. Be it during their studies or in the yard under the watchful eye of Ser Rodrik.

"Today, you three will be sparring under my direction," Nox informed the three, garnering a spike of excitement from each of the boys. "And you will be using tourney blades today. Weighted tourney blades."

While Ser Rodrik was a competent teacher, he tended to almost…shelter the boys. At least he did in Nox's opinion. If it were up to him, the boys would be using live steel. But Ned had put a stop to that. It was tourney blades at the most, at least for now.

"Are we going to be sparring against one another, Master Nox?" Robb asked, nearly bouncing in place.

Nox's lips twitched upwards as he wondered just how long the boy's excitement would last. He intended today to be much like a training session under the blade masters of Korriban. In other words, pushing the boys to their limits and beyond. "Not at first." Nox explained motioning towards the fifteen men at arms behind them. "First, you will have to spar with the men behind you. First, one on one. Then, two on one. Then another round of two on one. The round will be over when you make a killing blow on your adversaries through whatever means you have available to you. After each fight, you will then make four laps around the perimeter of the godswood before returning to this spot and proceeding to the next fight. Once you have defeated all the men standing behind you, you will then spar against one another until there is only one of you left standing. And as for you men, should I believe that you are hesitating or taking it the slightest bit easy on them, you will face me. And I won't be holding back against you."

All three boys' eyes widened as they cast passing glances back at the men lined up behind them. "That's…That's impossible!" Theon almost yelled.

"Is it?" Nox asked, making the three boys shift their weight nervously as he pulled on the dark side of the Force and expanded his presence. "Then why am I wasting my time training you? 'Impossible' is merely a state of mind. But if you truly believe it, then the way out is that way and quit wasting my time."

"What's the matter, Greyjoy? Afraid you'll fall behind?" Jon taunted.

Theon scoffed. "You wish, bastard, just concerned you won't be able to keep up with us trueborn heirs is all."

Jon began moving towards Theon, nothing more than a slightly shifting of his weight, but he was stopped almost immediately as Robb held his hand out, stopping his brother. "Theon, don't call my brother a bastard," Robb, ever the peacekeeper between the two, said to the elder boy before turning towards Jon. "And, Jon, don't taunt him if you can't handle taunting back. You know he's just trying to get under your skin."

"Well-spoken, Robb," Nox congratulated the young man, who immediately preened up the rare compliment that Nox gave out. "Now, what are you three standing around here for? Get your asses moving before I start using your behinds as target practice."

He emphasized his words by raising his right hand and letting a small amount of Force lightning dance across his fingertips. While he wasn't as harsh as the Overseers on Korriban, mostly since he doubted Ned would approve of such treatment, he wasn't above giving his acolytes some motivation. One that all three had been the recipient of at some point and time. Nothing more than a slight jolt, but enough to not want it to happen again. The three boys nearly kicked up a cloud of dust amongst the snow as they hurried to gather a tourney blade from one of the men at arms.

As the boys took their positions, the men at arms wasted no time in attacking the young boys. None of them wanting to face the prospect of going against himself. 'Good,' Nox nodded, watching as the boys began fighting against their much larger and more skilled opponents. 'They need to push themselves and reach their limits if they're going to have any hope of surpassing them.'


Walking out of the small sept that had been built for her in Winterfell, Lady Catelyn Tully-Stark paused momentarily to tighten her hold on her heavy over cloak as she fought against the chill of the Northern air. Even after nearly ten years and two true winters in the North, she had not adjusted to the cold bite of the northern air as it kissed her skin. During these times she usually stayed to her rooms and would throw another log or two on the fire to fight against the cold. But today she couldn't. She'd received joyous news from the Maester earlier that day. Joyous. And terrifying. She was with child again. A blessing from the Seven. But at the same time, she was terrified. For while the Seven had blessed her with four, soon to be five, strong healthy children, the old gods of the North and the First Men had cursed her children with the taint of magic. So now she prayed and prayed to the gods of her family that the Seven would intervene and not allow the newest life growing within her to also be cursed with the taint of magic.

As she began her trek back to the great keep, she couldn't help but hear the hammering of anvils and the sound bellows blowing as the newly made glass was quenched. While she might despise the sorcerer for his unholy powers and his corruption of her children, even she could admit to his usefulness in helping to aid the North. But that, in and of itself, was another problem altogether. He was becoming too powerful. His influence amongst the Northern Lords and people was growing by the day. How long would it be before he was more influential than her husband? How long before he usurped her children's place as Lords and Ladies of the North? She knew in her heart that was exactly why the man was favoring the bastard so much. To give him a puppet to install so he could truly lead the North. But, unfortunately, her wolf husband did not share her concerns. One of frequent points of contention that had been arising between them as of late. But hopefully the child growing in her womb, a child she prayed would not be cursed like her other children, would be able to begin to heal the gap that had been forming between them.

"Lady Stark, I fear I must have words with you once more."

Turning, she found Septa Mordane making her way towards the small Sept from the direction of the great keep. From the time of day, and the look on the Septa's face, Cat knew exactly what the Septa wanted to talk to her about. "Very well," she nodded, motioning towards the Sept. "But let us have words inside, out of the cold."

The Septa nodded and obediently followed Cat into the Sept and out of the cold. While she appreciated what her husband did in building her this Sept so that she might pray to her gods, it was almost insultingly small. Just barely large enough for a handful of people to stand side by side along with the statues of the Father, Mother, Warrior, Smith, Maiden, Crone, and the Stranger.

"The girl has to leave Lady Stark!" Septa Mordane nearly shouted the moment the door shut behind the two of them. "She is no proper lady and never will be! Honestly, I don't know what the King was thinking sending her here. She should've been sent to the Silent Sisters the moment she stepped foot off those godless islands."

There was no need for the Septa to elaborate on just who she spoke of. Asha Greyjoy. The young girl who had become the bane of the Septa, and indeed Cat's, life. The girl absolutely refused to accept what was expected of her as a noble lady of the realm. She outright refused to dress properly, even going as far as burning the dresses Cat had delivered to her. Her manners were atrocious as she proved when she outdrank several guardsmen one night. And instead of performing proper womanly activities like sewing or learning how to manage a household, she instead constantly sought out the training grounds for a fight or she sought out the sorcerer to pester him to teach her. Which, thankfully, he had refused.

Under normal circumstances, Cat would've had the girl banished from Winterfell within the first moon of her arrival. And indeed, she had tried, suggesting to her Lord Husband that the girl would do better in another house, far away. Like the Mormonts, for example. But her husband had refused her request. Stating that it was the King's desire that he raise the two Greyjoy children as his wards, and that was what he intended to do.

After failing to rid Winterfell of her presence, Cat had done everything in her power to try and lessen the girl's potential to corrupt her two young daughters. But in that, she was only partially successful. Sansa, her rapidly growing and beautiful red wolf, was becoming a fine example of a true lady. Her manners were perfect. Her singing was excellent. Her sewing was better than even Cat's. Truly, one day she would make a southern lord a great wife. Perhaps she would even be graced with becoming the next queen. And, indeed, that was a possibility with her husband's close friendship with the King. And, best of all, despite the sorcerer trying to tempt and corrupt her by saying she had the capability to learn magic like her elder brother and the bastard, she at least had the fortitude to resist the temptation. A fact that she thanked the Seven for daily.

Arya, however, was the complete opposite of her sister. Arya had a near obsession with Asha and seemed to idolize her, much to Cat's dismay. Her little girl had even taken to trying to forgo wearing proper women's clothes, until Cat had put a hard stop to that, which had caused quite the tantrum from her younger daughter. Then there was the fact that, unlike Sansa, Arya was proud and excited with the fact that she had the ability to use magic and was pestering herself and Ned almost daily about when she would be able to join the boys in their training. Gods blessed; Ned had refused so far. But she knew that it was only a matter of time before he relented and allowed her to be trained. When that happened and when word got out, she would never be able to attain a marriage to a proper lord.

"What did Asha do this time, Septa Mordane?" Cat asked, bringing herself back to the present and putting the despair she felt with her younger daughter to the side for now.

"I told her that she needed to start behaving as a proper noble lady of the realm. Or I would punish her accordingly to try and prevent her behavior from affecting young Sansa and Arya." Septa Mordane said, her head held high as she did. "And she responded with the most vulgar of insults."

Shaking her head, Cat was at a loss. She could discipline the girl, and would do so, but she knew that it would be a fruitless venture. Perhaps if Asha had arrived at Winterfell when she was still Theon's age, she could've molded her into a proper lady. But now it was far too late for the girl. 'May the new gods watch over her future husband.' "I will speak to my Lord Husband about the matter and see to it that the girl apologizes and is properly disciplined for her words."

The Septa nodded, seemingly pleased with the decision before moving aside so that Cat could leave. Once outside, she immediately tightened her hold on her cloak to fight against the cold. Looking around the courtyard, Cat noticed the denizens of Winterfell going about their duties, few seemingly bothered by the cold or the wind. 'Even after all this time, do the gods of the North still reject me?' She wondered idly to herself as she shivered. 'Is this because their curse for not being able to love the bastard? To give him the name I promised them? No! I will not allow the thought.'

Holding her head high while trying to not to show just how much the cold bothered her, Cat set about to find her husband. Entering the great keep, Cat let out a breath of relief as the warm air of the interior of the keep hit her. 'Not quite the same as sitting before a warm fire, but better than nothing,' she thought, setting off towards her husband's solar. But to her dismay when she arrived, she found the room empty. 'Where could he be at this hour?'

Stepping out of the solar, she spotted a servant walking away from her. "You, girl. Where is my Lord Husband?"

When the servant girl turned around, her arms laden with scrolls, Cat just barely fought back groan at her misfortune. 'Of course, it would be the sorcerer's whore. Nyra.'

When she'd first arrived in Winterfell, Cat had initially had high hopes for the girl. Hopes that she would see the light and turn to the Seven, a task Cat had set about trying to accomplish with all the servants to very little actual success. But then he arrived. She'd trusted the girl to watch over him, but she underestimated the sorcerer's cunning. He turned the girl against her. Made her no better than the whores who serviced everyone who had two coppers to their name out in Winter Town. She'd tried to dismiss the girl, but again the sorcerer proved himself most cunning by taking the girl in and making her his…what was it he called her? A 'secretary' or some such nonsense. 'A fancy title for a whore, no doubt. Granted, no one has caught the two in the act. But why else would the sorcerer raise a serving girl up so high and take such an interest in her?'

"Apologies, Lady Stark," the girl replied, dipping into a shallow curtsey while keeping hold on the papers in her arms. "I have not seen the Lord Stark. But Master Nox has gone to train the boys in sparring today in the godswood. Perhaps Lord Stark is overseeing the training as he often does."

Cat sniffed at the subtle slight in the girl's tone. Ever since the sorcerer had gotten his hooks into her, he'd turned Nyra against her. Seven be praised none of the other servants had been corrupted. But that was primarily because she kept a tight rein on those who had the honor of serving a great and noble House.

"Very well, be on your way," Cat said dismissively before stopping as her curiosity got the better of her. "Where are you off to? And what are those you are carrying so closely?"

Nyra looked her straight in the eye. Another slight. "Reports from White Harbor on the status of new shipments of raw materials, as well as reports of progress made by both the glassmakers and the smiths for Steward Vayon and Lord Stark."

Cat felt her ire raise. This was even more proof that the sorcerer was going to try and wrest control away from her children in the future. Such important reports and ravens should've been sent directly to her Lord Husband and herself. Not some upstart sorcerer and his whore! "Very well, be on your way." Cat replied, doing her best to keep her expression neutral as the serving girl curtseyed again and walked away calmly.

'The nerve!' Cat fumed, turning on her heel and making her away towards the rear entrance of the great keep that led towards the godswood. 'Her and the sorcerer act as if they own Winterfell. They forget who they serve. I need to talk to Ned about this again. But I don't know how to broach the subject. He's already stated that he doesn't share my concerns as to the sorcerer's intention. And last time when I tried to push the issue to the point where he yelled…Seven, his eyes. They turned into the eyes of abeast, not a man. And I never want to see those eyes on my wolf again. Or my children.'

Making her way to the godswood, Cat stopped just as she was about to cross the threshold that led into the ancient woods nestled within the great walls of Winterfell. Passing by the guards without giving them a thought, Cat's steps faltered as she walked amongst the ancient trees that belonged to the old gods of the First Men. It didn't matter that she'd married into House Stark, nor that she had obediently bore her Lord Husband four healthy children with a fifth now on the way. The old gods were not her gods. And she never felt welcome in the godswood. It was almost as if, while walking amongst the trees, the old gods were judging her and finding her wanting. 'I cannot keep my promise.' She thought to herself, fighting back against the unease that was growing within her with each step she took. 'I cannot give him that hope, that desire for more that those like him are born with. If he is given the Stark name…he will covet his brother's position more than ever. I can't let that come to pass. I won't.'

Approaching the heart of the godswood, Cat could start to hear voices from ahead. Shouting, cheers. And the steady sound of training blades striking one another. 'Nyra said that Nox was training Robb and the bastard today…l have never seen just how he is manipulating my son. Perhaps this will be a chance to see just what foulness he is teaching him.' Slowing her march, she veered slightly off the path and into the trees so that she could watch what was going on, hopefully without being seen.

Staying partially behind a tree, she came upon the clearing and immediately frowned at what she saw. Nox was standing with his back towards her, facing the center of the clearing while around him over a dozen men of Winterfell were laying down or sitting while nursing some sort of injury or another. Even the Greyjoy boy was on the side, the side of his face reddened as he clutched at his side in obvious pain.

And in the center of the clearing was Robb and her husband's bastard. The two were sparring against one another and, much to her dismay, they were not using wooden blades. No. They had blunted tourney blades. Which they shouldn't be using. They were both far too young. She didn't care much about the possibility of Jon being hurt. But she was concerned about the possibility of Robb being injured.

As she watched the two trade blows back and forth, she began noticing things. Robb was favoring one leg over the other, almost limping as he moved, and he was frequently rolling his left arm as if there was something was not quite right with it. 'They are already hurt!' she realized with a start, her eyes narrowing in on Nox. 'Why has he not stopped this? Where is Ned? There is no way he would allow this to continue!'

Just as she was about to step out and put an end to the madness, she stopped herself. Jon had slipped slightly on the snow and dropped his guard. And her son had taken advantage and had his tourney blade raised, ready to end the spar in his favor. But just as the blade started to descend, Jon moved. It was impossible. His body was bent backwards nearly all the way to the ground! Yet still, he moved. His body twisting and turning in the unnatural and impossible position as he moved out of the way of the path of the blade just enough, so Robb's strike hit nothing but air.

When the boy managed to right himself, Cat was ready to intervene once more, but her eyes widened in fright as the bastard held out his hand, palm out, towards her son. She could hear her first son's grunt of pain as an invisible force struck him and sent him flying almost to the edge of the clearing, as he slid across the snow. Stopping just short of colliding with a tree.

Even years later, Cat would never remember crossing the distance that lay between herself and the bastard who dared raise his hand against his father's trueborn son. But cross the distance she did, bypassing the sorcerer and all the men of Winterfell who dared to just sit and watch as the bastard used foul, unholy magic against her son! At the last moment, Jon turned towards her, his eyes widening in fear as she bore down on him.

Her full arm slap echoed throughout the now deathly silent godswood as Jon was sent to the ground, clutching at his face. "HOW DARE YOU!?" she screamed, glaring down at the cowering boy at her feet. Her fury was so potent and raw that her innermost thoughts just spilled out of her mouth with no filter as she tore into the bastard. The world fell away from her as she focused completely upon the cowed and recoiling creature below her. "You dare use such unholy magic against your betters?! I'd always known you were a true bastard and one day would succumb to your bastard instincts to fight against your betters. I will see you thrown out of Winterfell BY SUNSET! You and the sorcerer! Who is no doubt grooming you to take over Winterfell so he can rule the North through you! By the gods, I don't know what I was thinking years ago when I begged the old gods to spare your life from the pox after the Seven granted my wish to remove you from my—!"

"Catelyn!"

Cat froze. Her words dying on her tongue. She knew that deep voice. The same voice that often spoke to her softly and offered words of comfort and support. But now…she heard none of those things. Only rage.

Turning, she prayed to the Seven that he wasn't there. That it had only been her imagination or Seven-sent spirit within herself yelling at her to bring her back to her senses. But as she turned towards the source of the voice, she realized that the Seven appeared to have abandoned her in this moment. It was no doubt the influence of the old gods keeping them away. For standing just a short distance away from her was her Lord Husband, Ned. His fists held tightly and stiffly to his side and his face set as if he were about to pass judgment on a criminal. But the worst were his eyes. No longer were they the dark grey that she cared for. Instead, they were again that beastly yellow.

Swallowing, her eyes flickered from her husband to his bastard, who was staring up at her with wide eyes holding his cheek with tears flowing down his face. Looking around, Cat tried to find some support. All the men were staring at her as if they'd never seen her before. As if she wasn't their Lady Stark but rather some stranger who'd just wandered in. Even Robb, her wonderful first-born son, was looking at her as if he'd never seen her before. It was in that moment that it truly struck her. She was alone.

"Ned…" she began, only to stop as her husband held up his hand.

"Training is over for the day," Ned declared, his dark and bestial eyes never leaving her. "Nox. Take the boys to the Maester and see to their injuries. And the rest of you, you are all sworn to secrecy. Should I hear even a single utterance of what has been spoken today, I will find the worst post imaginable and leave you there for the rest of your lives. Now, go. All of you."

The feeling of dread within her swelled as all the men, her son included, gathered themselves and quickly left the godswood. Leaving her alone with Ned. Once alone, Ned didn't say a word. He just stood there, staring at her with his beast-like eyes. "Ned—"

Her words died in her throat as Ned held up his hand, the simple gesture silencing her completely. Closing his eyes and turning away from her, Cat could almost see him visibly composing himself. When he turned back to her and opened his eyes once more, his grey eyes that she had started to care for had returned. "You spoke of the Seven granting your wish to take Jon away." Ned said, his voice empty and emotionless. "And then you made a promise to the old gods when you asked them to heal him. What was your wish to the Seven, and what promise did you make to the old gods?"

Swallowing hard, Cat tried to think of a way out of this, but nothing came. Her secret was out, her shame. And now she had no choice but to face the consequences. She meant to simply say her peace, but when she opened her mouth the words that left her were completely different than the ones she had planned. "You brought your bastard into our home, shaming me, Ned." she started, almost startled by the harshness in her own voice. She tried to stop, but the words kept flowing from her. "You took responsibility for the boy, which I can respect. But he should have never been brought here. He should've never been shown what his trueborn siblings have because his very nature will compel him to one day take it from them. He should've been sent to be raised by one of your bannermen. Or sent to the wall. But you refused to send him away because you love his mother more than me. So, I prayed to the Seven to take him away. And…they did. Just not in the way I had intended."

Ned's face remained completely passive. "The pox."

"Yes," Cat nodded, shame filling her. "When I saw him, so sick and so little, I…I regretted my prayer. I tried to take it back, but the Seven would not listen to me. Each day, he grew weaker and weaker, and my prayers did nothing. So, finally…I prayed to the old gods. I begged them to make him well. I promised them that…"

"What did you promise the old gods, Cat?" Ned pressed.

Again, it was as if the words were being forced from her. "I – I said that if they healed him that I would make you give the boy the Stark name. That I would love him like a mother should," she said, her shame and past laid bare before her husband.

Ned was silent for a long time as the two stood amongst the snow and trees of the godswood. "You never spoke a word of this to me."

Catelyn merely shook her head as her voice failed her. 'Why did I tell him? I wasn't going to…I didn't plan on deceiving him…but…why? Why did I say exactly what had happened so readily?'

Letting out a low sigh, Ned turned away from her and faced towards the ancient weirwood that dominated the center of the godswood. "A promise made to the old gods is not one that should be taken lightly. Nor should it be ignored once made, for bad things often happened to those that did such. And if word gets out that the Lady Stark made a deal with the old gods and then failed to uphold her end of the deal, my own bannermen will begin to question not only my own but my children's right to rule to North."

Cat thought that was going a bit far. But nothing she could say now would help her in any way, so she stayed silent as she knew that. "And despite my relationship with Robert, I cannot simply ask the King of Westeros to legitimize my bastard son on a whim. He has to earn it," Ned continued, shaking his head. "Then there is also where to place him. As a legitimized son of House Stark, he cannot simply be sent away and forgotten about."

The snow crunching beneath his boots, Cat stayed still as Ned turned back to her. "I will work on finding a reason to legitimize Jon. And while I have never asked for you to be his mother, I do ask that you begin treating the boy as my son. Not as the great offense or threat you think he is. For if you had watched him interact with his brothers and sisters, you would know that he would never want to harm them in any way. I will not force you to apologize to him for today, but there will never be a repeat of these events again, wife. And as for his mother…she is no threat to you, Cat. Nor to our children. She never has been, and she never will be. And that is all I will say on the matter."

Swallowing, Cat nodded submissively, she kept her head down as if she suddenly found the ground most entrancing. Not that there was much she could say her in defense. Not right now while Ned was in such a state with her. While her husband was known as the 'Quiet Wolf' and known for his honor, there was a great anger within him that few ever saw. And having now been confronted with it, Cat did not like it at all. "Yes, husband."

"Good," Ned nodded. "I will make sure that word of what happened here will not be spoken of."

Keeping her head lowered, Cat tried not to flinch as Ned lad a hand on her cheek. "Cat," his voice was softer now, soft enough that it made Catelyn look up into his eyes. "I am angry at you. Gods know that I'm angry. But I still care for you greatly. You are my wife, the Lady of Winterfell and the mother of my trueborn children. And I do love you."

Cat felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she nodded. "I love you, Ned. And I…I will be n-nicer to the bast – Jon."

"That is all I ask, Cat."

Catelyn felt herself sag in relief as she felt her husband's comforting arms encircle her and pull her in close. All too soon for her liking, her husband pulled away and let go of her. And then without another word he turned and left her to stand alone amid the godswood.

'I didn't tell him,' she thought, her hands going to her midsection. 'But now was not the right time…not with what happened.'

Turning her back on the weirwood, Cat made her way back down the path in the snow leading out of the godswood. As she walked, she reflected to what just happened. 'It…It had to be the sorcerer. It had to have been. I would have never done that…! Well, I would have berated the bast – the boy for beating his trueborn siblings. But I would not have struck him! It was the sorcerer. It had to have been! Him and his whore. They tricked me somehow! But…how? And why did I say exactly what happened so quickly? It was as if…as if I could say nothing else. Even when I had planned to say something completely different…just what happened? Did the sorcerer cast some sort of spell on me without my knowing? Or, or was it Ned? No. I can't think like that. Ned wouldn't do that to me…would he?'

Shaking away the thoughts, she lifted her chin high as she walked past the guards, neither of whom even looked in her direction. 'It had to have been the sorcerer. He's trying to discredit me. He's already turned his whore against me and now he's starting to turn my own family against me. He set this up, he must have. But I can't just order him gone from Winterfell, as much as I want too. He's too well liked by the people of the North.'

Cat knew that she wouldn't get any support for this problem here in the North. Maybe she needed to talk to someone else? Her father most definitely. But she needed another. She needed a friend to confide in. 'Maybe Petyr? I heard that he has been made Master of Coin… Yes, perhaps I will write to him. I could use a friend that understands the threat that a sorcerer poses to my family. And perhaps he'll have an idea on how to help. He always had interesting ideas for games when we were children. Perhaps he will have another now?'