So, this is the shortest chapter yet – apologies. But it's mainly to introduce some new characters and to get the ball rolling a bit. The next chapter should make up for it.

I know a lot of you want to see what's happening in Essos. Honestly, the story I have in mind is so long, I may have to split it up into four different parts… Anyhoo, I don't want to show Essos just yet…

As for characters across the Narrow Sea, I'd like some select characters. Like, a courtesan that was the daughter of a Red Priest. Or… a Dothraki Sellsword. Maybe an Unsullied pit fighter – this is one of those few times I want really random characters. I'm going to be a bit more picky about Westerosi in Essos, though.

So, I've got pretty much all the necessary characters. I'd like two more handmaidens for Thea Bolton. Also, some more bannermen for the Starks / Boltons. In particular, I need a Lord Bolton, still. I want something really different from his family.

As you'll see, bannermen have a fair bit of screen time. Maesters are welcome, as are knights. Knights can be members of the Kingsguard, the Master-at-Arms for a keep and so on.

Tylan Stark – Winterfell

All the Lords of the North rode through from Wintertown. It was like all the old tales I'd been read in bed. I couldn't remember all the names. But I recalled some of the banners – a bear, a steel gauntlet, the lizard…

I scratched Renn's ears. He was a big hound, bigger than I was, with black, black fur. I looked back to the Lords riding in, trying to see if Finn would be there too. I couldn't really remember him, but I knew that, as soon as I saw him, I'd recognize him. He'd be as big as a mountain, and he'd look just like me and Markas.

"Tylan Stark!" I heard mother's familiar voice and turned around to face her. She wore her black dress, and towered above me like a castle. Her green eyes glared at me, and grabbed my arm. "Look at your clothes! They're absolutely filthy!"

"Mother, leave me-"

"Gods alive – have you been in the kennels again?"

"Why does that matter?"

Mother leant down towards me, pushing my hair out of my face, "No. More. Kennels." I just shrugged.

"Lady Margareth." I turned around with mother to see a man get off his horse. He was big, one of the biggest men I'd ever seen. He had a great, long, red beard, and looked to be half-giant! Wrapped in black furs and leathers, with a large battle axe strapped on his back, which was the size of two of me!

"Lord Glover," Mother bowed her head, "your son arrived two days ago."

"Aye, I'm glad to hear it." The Redbeard walked over to us. "I fail to see Lord Karstark."

"He remains in Karhold."

"He does, eh?" He looked towards me. "And who would this be? The kennelmaster's apprentice?"

"Lord Glover, this is my youngest, Tylan."

"Tylan?" Redbeard crouched down. "How old are you?"

"Ten." I replied.

"Eh?" He leant towards me, cupping his ear.

"I'm ten!"

Readbeard grunted and straightened up. "You're tall for your age. If a bit on the skinny side…" he chuckled to mother. I gritted my teeth and growled in response, until mother put a hand on my shoulder.

"Apologies, Lord Glover. Tylan prefers the company of wild dogs to other boys."

Redbeard threw his head back and belly-laughed, "He's got the wolf's blood, aye."

I followed mother and Redbeard through the courtyard. Past the kennels and stone wolves and up the stairs, into our hall. Inside, I saw lots and lots of other people. More than I could ever remember seeing. There was the Redbeard, who sat down next to Mormont and Ser Asher Dunn. At the big table at the back, I saw Evie sitting down, eyes all red and stung. And next to her, in father's chair, sat Markas.

Markas was much bigger than me. He had really, really black hair, which was weird, because no-one else in our family had black hair. I asked mother once, and she just said it's the Cassel in him. Markas wore a big cloak, like father used to, with our sigil on the straps.

"Tylan?" Mother asked me. "Tylan, what's wrong?"

"He's in father's chair." I stated. Markas always thought he was better than everyone. That's why Finn was sent away. Then father died. Now Markas is going to die.

"This is what Markas is meant to do," mother explained, "your father was Lord of Winterfell. And now that he's gone-"

"Markas is Lord of Winterfell. I know." I refused to look at her.

"Come on, little cub," mother put an arm around my shoulders, "why don't you sit with Evie?"

I humphed, but went along with mother all the same. I looked more like Evie – we had the same pale grey eyes, unlike any other Stark. Markas had the dark eyes, yet father's eyes were darker still. Only Finn had the exact same eyes like father. I asked mother why once, but she just said 'His mother had nothing to put in him'. I wasn't quite sure what this meant. Evie smiled when I came near.

"Ty, you're filthy!" She chuckled, "What have you been doing?"

"I was in the kennels."

"Little Lords shouldn't play with dogs."

"I wasn't playing. I was learning."

"Learning? Learning what?"

"How to be a Direwolf."

Evie laughed, and covered her forehead with her hand. "What?"

"We're Direwolves. So I'm learning how to be one."

"How can you learn to be a Direwolf from a dog?"

I paused a moment, thinking about it. They were both dog-ish? "Shut up!" I said, looking away from her. Evie laughed, and ruffled a hand through my hair.

"My Lords," we all looked around to see Markas stand up one hand on the hilt of father's sword, Ice. It was as big as half his body! "We have all lost too much in this battle. Sons, brothers, fathers," he looked towards mother for a moment, who had sat on the other side of him, "but I will not sit idle while Bolton men flay our brothers. I have called every loyal house so we may march east to the Dreadfort in force. My sister will join Stark with Baratheon in marriage." Some of the men slammed their tankards of ale on the table. Some groaned and mumbled.

"My Lord," Lord Reed stood up, "the Baratheons live on the other side of Westeros. They're knights of summer. Why not commission the Tully's or Arryn's for marriage?"

"I have given my word to Rylon Baratheon to wed my sister with his son." Markas stated.

"But, you have yet to be betrothed," Lord Reed stated, "the Arryn daughters are said to be young and beautiful-"

"A wolf doesn't need a falcon to fuck a flayed man!" Redbeard stood up, and most of the hall cheered for him.

"My Lords!" Markas tried to make them pay attention again, but they just wouldn't! "My Lords!" He tried again. Until, finally, Lord Mormont slammed his fist into the table, cracking part of it. Everyone went quiet, and Mormont nodded to Markas. "I am yet to take a wife, you're right, Lord Glover. But there will be no time for that. We must march east before the end of the month."

"Ha!" Laughed Redbeard, "The cub's a wolf's appetite."

"I talked with my sister," Markas continued, "and the only way that we can defeat the Boltons is if we unite. If we all band together." Markas swallowed and looked at all the Lords. "I wish to discuss Finn Snow."

The hall was quiet for a moment. Like no-one had heard him. They all looked at each other, before Redbeard spoke.

"You'd bring that bastard back?"

"Careful, My Lord," Markas responded, "that bastard is as much a Stark as any other man here."

"Aye, and he's just as much Bolton as our enemies!" Glover replied. "If not more so… if what they say is true…" Glover chuckled, along with most of the men in the hall. I leaned over to Evie.

"What does he mean?"

"He's just a silly old man." Evie responded.

"It seems Bennard Stark was not as honourable as we all thought." Redbeard mumbled darkly. I looked over to Markas. He couldn't sit there and listen to this man, it wasn't right.

"Say that again, old man." Markas' hands closed into a fist. Redbeard's hand rested on the hilt of his dagger.

"Lord Glover," mother stood up, "I assure you, my son does not mean to bring the boy back to our shores. He simply means to discuss this." Redbeard looked from mother to Markas and let out a small chuckle.

"Apologies, Lady Stark. Or, is it Lady Cassel, now?"

"You forget yourself, Lord Glover-" Mormont began to speak.

"I'm not offending, I'm just asking."

My mother's face remained like a stone. "I am a Stark, my Lord Glover. I will always be a Stark. Like my sons and like my daughter."

"Your son learns to speak for himself, my Lady." Redbeard stated, "A Lord that hides behind his mother's skirts is no true lord."

"You'd talk to your liege Lord like-" Mormont began.

"I'd educate an old friend's firstborn." Redbeard sighed. "I held your father close to my heart, in my younger years. Aye, he wasn't one for drinking or brawling, but he was a good man while I knew him. And then he left us," Redbeard turned around to face the other Lords, "travelled to help the southrons fend off the Ironborn, and let them sack the Stony Shore. Your father was Warden of the North, and he followed others' beck and call like some dog." Redbeard glanced towards mother, "I'd advise you learn from your Lord Father's mistakes."

Markas' eyes stayed fixed on Redbeard. "My father was a great man."

"Aye. Once. Then he became a fool." Redbeard turned to the silent Lords beside him once more, "I loved the man like a brother. And I miss him. But he was foolish. He housed Maryana Bolton, and whelped a bastard with her. Aye, I remember him arriving with her suckling the babe-"

I growled at Redbeard, talking about Finn like that. But it was Mormont who challenged him. "Please arrive at the point, My Lord."

"If your Lord Father had any sense he wouldn't have done any of this. Or, he would have at least slit the throats every Bolton there and then."

"This is not the time to argue over the past," Mormont declared, "the Boltons will be marching on Winterfell within the month."

"Let them come!" Called Renn Woodfoot, the Captain of the Guard.

"If we let them come to us, they'll roll over every keep they can. Our people will be flayed, and murdered. We will march East to the Dreadfort, and wipe the Boltons from the North." I looked over to Markas, terrified; I knew what was coming. I knew what he was going to say, because it's what Finn would have said. "I will lead you, as my father did before me." It was difficult to see under all that hair, but Redbeard started to smile. He pulled out his large battle-axe, and raised it towards Markas.

"The North Remembers!" And the hall broke out into men pulling out their own swords, raising them and chanting towards my brother. I stood up, and chanted all the same. Evie sat in her chair, gently muttering the words like mother did.

"The North Remembers."

So, back to King's Landing next. And then, we'll check in on Rickard of Crofters, who's having some R&R at the Dreadfort.