Chapter 1:

Harlon

A group of 5 ships arrived at Moat Cailin. They docked as a group of men came on to them. "In the name of House Stark, who's there?" A man who walked up asked.

The men in the ship step out and let someone through. He had dark, brown hair and grey eyes. His armor consisted of a surcoat and carried an oak shield decorated with a wolf's head. Behind him were four ladies, each slim and slender as a willow. One had a straight black hair worn in a long braid which pulls from a widow's peak. That one has dark eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips. Next to her was another woman who was wielding a spear and a whip. She had close-set eyes and rat-brown hair. Each of these women looked like they were from Dorne.

"My name is Harlon Stark, second son of Eddard Stark, twin to Robb Stark, and heir to Moat Cailin. I would like you would remember me Ser Domeric." Harlon said with a teasing smile on his face.

Domeric immediately kneeled and bowed embarrassed that he had forgotten his liege lord's son. He was from one of the mountain clans in the Vale, when Lord Harlon's group of renegades came to his clan and stopped a few bandits from ransacking his village. Upon seeing them fight as a group as well as seeing the women fight, he immediately joined his group wanting to learn what he could from them and left his home since then. "My lord, forgive me. I had not thought you would come back yet."

Harlon cautioned him to stand. "It's alright; the ships I got for here are some of the fastest ships Dorne has. I missed my family, so I decided to come back early." He walked down to the docks and turned around. "Obara, Nymeria, Tyene, can you tell the men to dock and also when they are done, they can either stay here or go visit their family?"

Nymeria smiled. "Of course and what would you be doing?"

"I am going to write a letter to my father telling him that I landed safely in Moat Cailin and after we've rested for a couple days that we will be going to Winterfell. If you want to come visit, you're more than welcome. Especially you, Nymeria." He smiled at her radiant beauty.

She smiled at his attempt at flirting. "Of course, I will go with you, honey. What would you do without me?"—"Oh, can you stop with insistent flirting? You guys are making me sick." Interrupted Obara.

Tyene jumped over Harlon and hugged him. "Oh come on, Obara, I think that you are just jealous that Nymeria has a guy to sleep with. Especially a lord like Harlon." Nymeria and Harlon both blushed. They arrived in the keep of Moat Cailin.

"Alright off you guys go." He motioned them to leave. "Domeric, take me to my chambers then give dinner to my men and prepare a table for us to feast."

In his chambers

He sat down on is bed and started unhooking his armor. He took out his sword, Wolf's Bark, fashioned after his father's valyrian steel Ice. He lied down on the bed and started thinking about his group and how he was doing ever since he started traveling four namedays ago with only 20 men.

Since then, members from each region of the North had joined him. After staying in the North region for a while, they moved to the Vale. They picked up Domeric Stone, a bastard from the noble clansmen. Others joined as well; Lancelot Vale, Gawain of Lys, Percival Oak, Tristan Hall, Bors the Younger, Sir Dagonet, the court jester, Sir Ywain the Bastard, and the Sand Snakes from Dorne.

He also had managed to get new trade deals between Dorne, Highgarden, and the North. With this, he had hopefully mended the relation between Dorne and the Starks for what had happened during Robert's Rebellion as long as he brought them Gregar Clegane and Armory Loche's heads. And it was all meant for Robb.

Robb, his brother, whom he had not seen in almost four years. He missed his family, Sansa, with her tender heart, Jon, with his amazing sword skills as he was the only one who could fight evenly with him, Arya, with her adventurous heart who would love nothing more than to travel with him, and Bran, with his love for climbing. He had gotten a letter a couple moons ago that he had a new brother named Rickon who he had not seen, but would love to.

As the second son, he knew that he would never inherit Winterfell. With his love for traveling and fighting, he had asked his father if he could travel around Westeros to form new alliances and trade deals. He had done a lot of begging every day and night, eventually, his father relented. Now he had made the way for Robb to handle the North easier in the future, going as far as dealing with bandits attacking villages, rebuilding Moat Cailin, and building him a fleet.

He put his hand on his face and muttered. "I've done my part, brother. It is your turn now."

Suddenly the door opened. Standing upright, he smiled as he saw who it was. "Hey, what are you doing here?" He asked Nymeria.

"We're finished with the docking and now we are waiting for you to have dinner." She said as she sat down next to him. She leaned on his head.

He looked down at her dark eyes and high cheekbones. "Maybe we should tell them to start without us."

She smiled, looked at him and giggled. Teasingly, she said, "Oh, and what will we be doing?"

He lifted her up to the bed and started to lean down. "Oh, you know what I'm talking about."

She wrapped her arms around his neck. She whispered in his ear. "Let's not waste anytime then." She laughed as he threw her against the bed and started caressing her body, kissing her.

"GUARD, TELL THE MEN WE WON'T BE JOINING YOU GUYS IN DINER."

A few days later,

In Winterfell,

Bran's shots were off again as he loosed another arrow and missed his target.

He sighed in frustration as his aim was still off while his brothers chuckled with an amused look on their faces. Bran wished he wasn't the only one training with the bow, but Robb, Harlon, and Jon had since passed their bow training and Rickon was still a babe. He very much doubted Rickon could lift a weapon at his age. It also didn't help that his brothers were watching and laughing whenever he missed his target. At the moment, Bran wished he had Harlon's skills with a bow and be done with training. He wanted to train with a sword to be part of the Kingsguard someday.

As the third son, he knew he would have to find his own place in the world. Robb would become Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North while Harlon would serve as Master of Moat Cailin. Harlon already had started his own group of men who fought off bandits in different villages. He hoped that he would someday surpass him as a skilled swordsman, although not as good as Jon was. Jon was always the better swordsman compared to Robb and Brynden.

"Go on, father's watch," Jon encouraged him, patting him on the shoulder. Jon was fourteen and more solemn than their brothers Robb and Harlon. "And your mother," he added. Bran looked over his shoulder, up at the balcony where his parents were watching him. He took some encouragement from this and readied himself for another shot.

Nothing his arrow, Bran raised his bow, aimed and loosed his arrow. He sighed in frustration as he once again missed his target.

"Lord Stark!" He heard someone yell. It was the Maester Luwin running up to his father. "A letter arrived form Moat Cailin with the sign of the direwolf." My father showed a face of surprise and looked at my mother.

He took the letter from Luwin. He smiled as he read it. "Maester, go get Arya and Sansa. It seems good news has arrived."

"But my lord, Arya's already here." Everyone laughed as they looked around and finally found her.

A couple minutes, Sansa came. "Father, you called."

"Yes, what is this about, Ned?"

Father looked up to his wife. "We need to prepare a feast. Harlon has arrived to Moat Cailin and is a few days' ride for Winterfell." Everyone seemed exited as they really missed Harlon.

"YES!" Exclaimed Arya.

"That's not all. He has managed to get new trade deals with Dorne and Highgarden. He is also traveling with Oberyn Martell's daughters himself." Catelyn Tully smiled as tears of joy started flowing down her face, proud of her son accomplishing the impossible.

"This will help the North a thousand times over. The lords will be grateful to him." She said.

"Yes, because in the winter, we will need to help each other. For the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives."