So, I've decided to create the Lord Bolton – Rass Bolton.

Tylan Stark – Winterfell, The North

I had been playing with the latest pup, who the kennelmaster had let me name. I hadn't hesitated to name him "Cub". He was the youngest of the pack, but he would bark and try to bite the other dogs that barked at him. He was like me. Cub was small, with shaggy dark fur and brown eyes. I scratched his ears, and let him lick my hands.

"Tylan." I turned around to see Markas walking towards me. Markas looked different. He wore a big heavy cloak with wolf fur. His brown curly hair was combed, and his wolf eyes were too serious. He looked like father. Except for the hair.

"What?"

Markas looked around at all the commonfolk that came through the doors. "Let's go inside."

"Can Cub come too?"

"Cub?" Markas smiled, looking to Cub. "What sort of a name is that?"

"A wolf's name!"

Markas chuckled. "I suppose that's true." He slapped his thigh, and Cub leapt up towards him.

"You shouldn't do that, Mark."

"Why not? He's a hound, isn't he?"

"He's a wolf!" I insisted.

"Aye, you're right. A wolf like you." Markas ruffled my hair. We entered the Hall, where Markas leant against the Lord's table, facing me. "Tylan, I've got news for you."

"Bad news?"

"No, just news." He took off his gloves. "I've decided I'm marching East tonight. To fight the Boltons."

"We're marching?" I beamed. I knew the big Mormont said I could squire for him, but I didn't think I actually would! I'd finally be given a proper sword and a big wolf's cloak like Markas and father! "I promise, I won't let you down Mark! I've been practicing with edged blades, and I'm getting better at riding-"

"Tylan," Markas shook his head, "you're not coming."

"What?"

"You're to stay here with mother."

"But I'm ready! Mormont said I could be his squire-"

Markas cut me off by holding the back of my neck and leaning down to me, "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell." He informed me. I could see it in his eyes. He was keeping something from me.

"You're not coming back, are you?" I took a step backwards, "First Finn, then father, then Evie, now-"

"Evie will be back, Tylan. I'm coming back. But mother needs you." Markas placed a hand on my shoulder, "You're to be Lord of Winterfell while I'm at war. Can you do that for me?" I nodded, without question. "Remember, winter is coming. And we need to be ready for it when it does."

Margareth Stark – Winterfell, The North

The stonemason had finished the likeness of Ben in the crypt. It was good that he was laid to rest here, next to his ancestors. His hair was lighter than my own, but his eyes were infinitely darker. Filled with the responsibility all Starks were weighted with. A strong jaw… Gods, I could still remember the first time I met him. I was only a child, seeing him spar with my brother, Gyll. He was still young and rowdy then. Not unlike how Markas used to be.

"I thought I'd find you down here." Markas walked down the crypt towards me. He was a sight, wearing a cloak just like Ben. He had my Mormont mother's dark bear hair, and eyes that were a mix of my pale flint-grey and his father's midnight-black.

"I wanted to make sure they got it right." I turned back to the likeness. "You look a lot like him, you know. Apart from your eyes and hair."

"Not like Finn." Markas nodded. I couldn't help but shudder in memory of that foul boy. A knave if one ever walked in Winterfell, "You still wrinkle your nose like you've been served something foul." Markas muttered.

"I will not tolerate that boy's name in my keep, in front of my husband's bones-"

"He was my father. And Finn may have been a bastard, but the same blood flows in his veins-"

"That with the blood of a traitor." I refused to look at Markas when talking about the bastard. There was a long silence as Markas faced the likeness as well, gritting his jaw, just like Ben used to when he was in thought. "Evie still writes to him."

"Evie barely knew him." I scoffed. "He made her cry more times than he didn't."

"Mother…"

"He was exiled. She misses him, but she doesn't know him! It's not right-"

"Not right?" Markas turned towards me, voice raising in disbelief. "What's not right is when Evie followed me around all day, crying, asking when her brother is coming home!"

"You are her brother-"

"Aye, as is Finn!"

"Don't you raise your voice at me." I commanded him. "You may be Lord of Winterfell, but you are my son. And he started all of this." I shook my head, trying to explain it to him. "The first time I came here, I was so happy. I'd met your father when my brother, Gyll, was fostered here. I was so anxious… I'd heard so much about him. But when I came here, I saw him, with that baby boy in his arms…" I took a quivering breath to contain my anger, "you've heard the stories about Rass Bolton, yes? What he did to his sister?" Markas was silent now. "It could have been Rass Bolton as easily as it could have been your father…"

"Mother, stop." Markas growled. "He is father's son. It doesn't matter who his mother was; he is my brother."

"And what a brother he was." I took a handful of seconds to regain my composure, and embody my title: The Lady of Stone.

"We march on the Dreadfort tonight."

"I'll inform Lord Mormont to gather the troops, and serve as your representative…"

"There's no need. I intend to represent myself."

I could not maintain my façade now. I snapped my neck around to face him. "Markas, there are men more experienced than you…"

"And how many of them are called Stark?"

"I will not stand by and watch another one of my children leave me." I declared, keeping my voice steady. I'd nearly lost Markas once before, and I would not go through something like that again.

"I'm not the child I was," Markas told me, "I can protect myself now."

"You're barely a man." I turned back to look at Ben. It was that whore Maryana, preying on his tendencies. She should've taken her bastard and gone back to the Dreadfort all those years ago.

"I want you to stay here."

"You need me-"

"Tylan needs you." Markas grabbed my arm, making me face him, "He's ten. He doesn't understand any of this. The Ironborn have been gone from our shores for well over a decade. He didn't hurt me." Markas removed his hand. "You can't protect me forever. Cerwyn… Glover, they see me as you do: a child. Mother," I turned to face him this time, "this is something I need to do as father did." I stared to notice the stubble breaking across his jaw.

"I can't believe my boy shaves now…" I chuckled, running a hand across his chin. I then wrapped my arms around his neck. "Kill them all, my son."

Again, just another short update, as this is a set-up instalment. There's only 5 more chapters of this by the way, so… yeah, that's how close we're coming to shit hitting the fan.

Next chapter is back in King's Landing, and it's called 'Pride of the Lioness', and it'll be up… soon-ish I guess? After this story, I'm going to jump back onto Life is Strange: Corvus Lupus because I've kept everyone waiting, and there's only 5 more chapters left of that.

I've got coursework due in over the next two weeks or so, so I've gotta start giving those my focus since I've done nothing… and it's my last year of university… hopefully.

Anyhoo – remember to submit those Essosi(?) when you can, along with some more Northern bannerman, and I'll take a Lord Lannister.