Okay first up apologies for being so late with this one, had a stressful few weeks with college work and other stuff happening online.
Also as a bit of a heads up and apology the first section of this chapter may not be the best and I'll certainly come back to it at some point but it's had me stumped for weeks and I'd rather get this out now rather than delay the chapter another week

The Eyrie, The Vale, Westeros

Idolaf stood behind Catelyn Stark and Tyrion Lannister in the Eyrie's throne room. It was a grand room, round in design and was certainly more impressive than any of the halls in Skyrim, and the throne itself was a very intricate design carved out of a white wood. "You bring him here?" The woman sat on the throne spat at Catelyn. "Without permission?" On the woman's lap was a boy, maybe seven years of age, and he was still breast feeding, which sickened the hardened Nord. "You pollute my home with his presence?" Before lady Stark could speak she turned to the boy on her lap. "Your aunt has done a bad thing, Robin, a very bad thing." The boy looked up at the mention of his name, milk still on his mouth. "You remember her, don't you?" With a smile that reminded Idolaf of the smiles the Thalmor would give while preaching their 'superiority' the woman turned back to Catelyn. "Isn't he beautiful? And strong too." She grinned. "Jon knew it. His last words were "the seed is strong." He wanted everyone to know what a good, strong boy his son would grow up to be. Look at him." She beamed at the boy. "The Lord of all the Vale." Perfect, why was it always the spoiled brats who got to inherit large estates and kingdoms, Idolaf thought.

"Lysa." Lady Catelyn started, a bit of doubt hanging in her voice. "You wrote to me about the Lannisters. Warning me t-"

"To stay away from them!" Lysa snapped. "Not to bring one here!"

"Mummy." The boy, Robin spoke. "Is that the bad man?" He sounded like Lars when he was four, Lysa had clearly smothered the boy.

Lysa nodded. "It is."

Robin smiled. "He's little."

"He's Tyrion the Imp of House Lannister, he killed your father. He murdered the Hand of the King!" Lysa glared at Tyrion, who groaned slightly in annoyance.

"Oh? Did I kill him too? I've been a very busy man."

"You will watch your tongue!" Lysa snapped. "These men are knights of the Vale. Every one of the loved Jon Arryn. Every one of them would die for me." Gods knows why.

"if any harm comes to me." Tyrion spoke. "My brother Jaime will see that they do."

When the dwarf had finished Robin jumped up in clear anger. "You can't hurt us!" He jumped slightly on his feet. "No one can hurt us here! Tell him, mummy! Tell him!" Shor's beard Jarl Balgruuf's daughter was better than him.

Lysa shushed her son and pulled him back to her lap. "Shh, my sweet Robin. He's just trying to frighten us. Lannisters are all liars. No one will hurt my baby."

The words seemed to calm Robin and he rested his head on her shoulder. "Mommy." He said without looking up at her. "I want to see the bad man fly." The boy began grinning, rather unsettlingly so as well.

Lysa also smiled. "Perhaps you will, my little love."

"This man is my prisoner." Catelyn spoke in a warning tone, cutting off the two on the throne. "I will not have him harmed."

Lysa stared at her sister for several moments, a scowl on her face. "Ser Vardis, my sister's guest is weary." She spoke in a low voice. "Take him down below so he can rest. Introduce him to Mord."

With a nod the knight who had lead the party to the Eyrie stepped forward and grabbed Tyrion by the shoulder before dragging him off.

When the doors to the throne room closed Lysa for the first time looked at Idolaf. "And who is this that you bring before the Lord of the Vale?"

Before Catelyn could speak Idolaf spoke up. "Decanus Idolaf Battle-born of the Empire of Tamriel." He gave a nod and also the nordic salute.

"And you come to the Vale armed for war?" Lysa demanded, while Robin studied them carefully with a bored expression. "You come before its Lord armoured like the Eastern savages?"

Frowning slightly Idolaf glanced at Catelyn who was looking quite uncertain. Turning back to Lady Arryn he spoke again. "I do not come seeking war. Me and my men were on our way North and Lady Catelyn said she would help us get there quicker."

"The Lord of the Vale decides who can pass through his lands." Lysa almost spat. "Isn't that right, sweet Robin?" She asked, looking down at the boy.

Robin looked up at his mother for a moment before looking back down to Idolaf. "Can I watch the big man fly?" He asked with a grin.

Idolaf widened his eyes in surprise, this boy was really asking if he could have him killed. "Lady Arryn I-"

"You will not interrupt the Lord of the Vale!" Lysa commanded. "No Robin, not yet." She spoke to the boy again. "What do you think should be done with them?"

"But I want to see them fly!"

Idolaf clenched his armoured fist but Catelyn spoke up before he could. "Lysa, they're just trying to go North."

Lysa looked at her sister for several moments. "Very well." He expression betrayed her annoyance. "They may go north with you, but if they speak out of line with the Lord the Vale again..." She looked down at Idolaf. "It'll be the Sky Cells."

Barely even nodding Idolaf turned and walked off, glancing at Catelyn as he went but otherwise not saying anything. The guards at the door opened it to let him pass and from there he made for the courtyard where the rest of his men were waiting.

When he got there he saw that several of the knights and the sellsword were also there, sitting around and seemingly waiting for something to do. "Idolaf!" He heard one of one of the other two Decanii in the Turma, Njorn, call. Waving back Idolaf walked over to Njorn, who was sat next to the sellsword. "So, we good to continue moving north?" The other Nord asked. Njorn was older than Idolaf, maybe ten years so. He was broadly built, even for a Nord and sported and impressive brown beard that despite Imperial regulations he'd gotten away with keeping.

"Aye, just about. The 'Lord of the Vale' wanted to see us fly, but lady Catelyn talked him out of it." Idolaf spoke with a sigh as he sat down on the small stone wall that both Njorn and the sellsword were sat on. "The Lannister's in a cell though."

Njorn scoffed. "He's still alive?"

"Just about." Idolaf said with a shrug.

"So you two are from some Legion or other, ain't you?" The sellsword asked, looking over both Idolaf's and Njorn's armour.

Njorn nodded. "Aye, Fourth Imperial Legion, first cohort." He added with clear pride.

"First what?"

"First cohort." Idolaf repeated. "Each Legion has a first cohort which has the elite soldiers in it. We're in the cavalry century so you could say we're the elite of the elite."

"And the Fourth Legion's the elite of the Empire anyway." Njorn added with a smirk. "Most experienced at any rate."

The sellsword shrugged. "I've heard a lot of soldiers say they're the elite of their piss poor army, though with you lot at least look the part." He gestured to their armour. "I'd kill for armour like that."

Njorn chuckled. "You could try, but you'd only get my axe in your skull." He rested a hand on his horseman's axe resting at his side. "Besides, you fought well enough against those bandits without it, isn't that right Decius!" He called out to the rest of the Turma.

"Shor's bones will you shut up about it Njorn!" Came the reply from the other side of the courtyard. Idolaf chuckled, remembering Decius was the one who had trouble removing his helm.

"In your dreams!" Njorn yelled back with a laugh.

The sellsword smirked and turned to Idolaf. "Name's Bronn." He held out a hand, which Idolaf shook. "You going to be staying round here long?"

Idolaf sighed. "I doubt the Lady Arryn will let us leave before her sister does."

"Well." Bronn smirked. "We'll have some time to swap some stories then."

Castle Black, The North, Westeros

The near endless expanse of the Haunted Forest, that was what Eadric could see from where he stood on the Wall. A few leagues into the forest were several plumes of smoke, Wildling camps he'd been told they were and he was certain the Nights Watch knew what they were talking about. Sighing slightly as he sat down on the snow covered floor he wondered why the Northmen and Wildlings were at each other's throats all the time, from what he could tell and from what Maester Aemon had told him their root cultures were nearly identical. For both worshipped the Old Gods of the forest and both were a collection of different peoples all linked by the blood of the First Men. The only real difference, as far as he could see, was that the men of the North had settled and built permanent homes rather than keep to the nomadic ways like the Wildlings did.

In truth the North was very much like Skyrim as well, with many different regions all swearing fealty to a High King, or Lord Paramount in the North's case. And the legends about the animals that once roamed the North were also very similar to what still inhabited Skyrim and made the Nords the resilient people they were. Both also valued martial prowess greatly, though Skyrim more so. The Starks had become Kings in the North because they were the best warriors and generals amongst all the Northern Kings, in much the same way Olaf One-eye had become High King of Skyrim after the succession wars. And both were viewed as backwards barbarians by the others on their continent but at the same time were truly feared for the fury they could unleash.

Behind him Eadric heard soft footfalls on the snow, probably someone on watch. Sure enough the now familiar black cloak of a Watchman came around the corner and Eadric wasn't surprised to see its owner was Jon. "What are you doing up here Eadric?" He asked as he walked to the edge of the Wall and looked over the Haunted Forest as well.

"Taking in the view." The Nord replied. "And this is the only place you can really be alone round here."

Jon nodded slightly. "Aye, I get that." He raised his hand to shield his eyes from the wind. "Those camps still where they were two days ago." The Northman seemed to speak to himself.

"Aye they're still there." Eadric spoke as he pushed himself up from the floor. "Though by the looks of it one's dying out." He pointed to the plume furthest east. "Might be they're getting ready to move on."

"That's probably it." Jon nodded slightly. "Don't know how anyone could live out there, nowhere to farm, snow all year round and winter pretty much all the time."

Eadric chuckled slightly. "People always find a way of living somewhere, no matter how shit it is."

"Is it like this where you're from?" Snow asked, glancing aside at him.

"No." The Nord shook his head. "I grew up in Falkreath, biggest forest in Skyrim. Think that forest outside Winterfell but with Ice wolves, Giants and Trolls in it." He smirked when he saw Jon's expression. "For land like this you'd have to go the Pale and Winterhold, snows all year round over there."

Jon grimaced and looked back over the Haunted Forest. "Sam was telling us about some Nord legends he'd been reading."

"Oh?" Eadric looked across at Jon. "What kind of legends has he read about?"

"The Songs of the Return he called it. How the Nords first came to Skyrim."

The Nord chuckled again. "Tell him if he wants to know more about he should ask me, I memorised the books when I was at the Bards College, they were always popular in the halls of Jorrvaskr."

"Jorrvaskr?"

"Mead hall of the Companions, my home." Eadric grinned. "Descendents of the five hundred and founders of Whiterun, greatest of the Nine Holds."

"That's the capital of Skyrim right?"

Eadric chuckled and shook his head. "No, Solitude is the capital, but Whiterun has always been one of the most important cities, now it rivals Solitude in every way."

Jon glanced at Eadric for a moment before looking back out across the expanse of snow and forest. "You think they're out there?"

"Do I think what's out there?"

Jon breathed out. "The White Walkers."

The Nord glanced at Jon before also looking back out across the view, now looking at the distant Frostfangs. "Aye, I think they're there. If they had been totally defeated you wouldn't have built this wall. Or kept on making it taller."

There was a silence between the two for several minutes before the sound of another one approaching came from behind them. Looking they saw Samwell Tarly shambling towards them. "Hello... Ser Alliser says I'm supposed to be your new watch partner." He explained as he stood a few metres away, clearly hesitant. "S-Should warn you." Sam continued. "I don't see all that well."

Jon sighed. "Come stand by the fire. It's warmer."

Sam shook his head. "No that's alright, I'm fine."

"No, you're not." Eadric spoke, noting that Sam was shivering while Jon and himself seemed tolerant of the cold even if they were by the fire. "Last thing you need is a cold on top of everything else."

Sam looked between them both for a few moments before hesitantly approaching, inching closer to the edge of the wall and looking down. "I-I don't like high places."

The Nord sighed again. "So, you can't fight, your eyesight's shit and on top of all that you can't stand heights. Your father really fucked up with you." He crossed his arms and leant against the ice wall, a soft clacking sound when his mail connected with the hard frozen water.

"Y-you know?" Sam asked, looking distraught, while Jon just looked at Eadric with a questioning look.

"Thorne told me." Eadric answered. "Your father was too soft on you, his fault not yours."

"M-my father-"

"Your father was clearly content to just let you sit on your arse and read."

Sam shook his head quickly. "No. F-father forced me to fight, to hunt. But it never worked."

Eadric laughed darkly. "If your father had really tried to teach you to fight and hunt you wouldn't be here, you'd be the heir of whatever castle you come from and more than likely in bed with a girl he married you to."

"You don't know that." Jon spoke up before Sam could say another word.

"I think I do." Eadric shot back. "You remember I told you about Jon Battle-born? Well his nephew was just like Sam before his father made him train with the Companions, boy cracks skulls like the best of us now, works with his uncle in the City guard."

Jon looked at him for a few moments before frowning and looking back across the forest. Next to him Sam was also looking out across it. "Read that there's a Heartree in the haunted forest." He spoke, clearly trying to change the subject. "I've never seen a Heartree before, Horn Hill doesn't have a Godswood." When neither Jon or Eadric spoke for nearly a minute he looked over his shoulder at the Nord. "W-what gods to you keep to?"

"The Nine Divines." The Nord answered, Hircine may have laid claim on his soul but he still kept to the gods of his ancestors. "Though the Elves tried to make that Eight Divines until recently, and given the chance they will again."

"Elves!" Sam spoke in a incredulous voice. "So the Songs of the Return are true?" For the first time Eadric saw him look somewhat happy about something.

Nodding the Nord smirked. "Aye, they're true." He looked across the forest again, noting that one of the plumes of smoke had now died out completely. "As the red hands of dawn stretched from the east, so broke the Five Hundred Companions of Ysgramor, setting about their journeys, sailing now across the land with waves of stone and crests of trees flowing under their footed hulls." The Nord softly sang, drawing the attention of Jon who for once actually smirked. Sam meanwhile seemed to be listening intently to the song, he really cared about history it seemed. "Southwards they went, by beast and by foot. Elves they found, though none remain to tell what those battles entailed. The numbers of the Jorrvaskr never faltered, so shrewd were they in battle, with minds as sharp as their blade." Eadric finished, sighing slightly, remembering the days in Jorrvaskr, of singing to raised horns of mead.

"You're a Companion, aren't you?" Tarly asked, drawing the Nord away from his thoughts.

"Aye, I am. Now if that's everything Tarly one of the camps has moved." The Nord pointed out across the expanse before the wall, at a new smoke plume, but this one was bigger than the last. "They've set up there, probably for some time."

Jon looked at where Eadric was pointing. "Aye, looks like it. We should tell the Lord Commander." He nodded to the Nord and both turned to leave.

"Should we blow the horn?" Sam asked. "One blast for Rangers returning, two for Wildlings attacking and..." He stopped for a moment, glancing at the large and ice covered horn. "Three for White Walkers."

Eadric stopped in his tracks. "Three for White Walkers..." He too looked at the horn. "When was the last time three were blown?"

"Erm..." Tarly muttered as he tried to remember. "A thousand years ago, I think."

"A thousand years..." Eadric trailed off for a moment before making the connection. "Bal." He muttered darkly before walking off, quicker this time. "I have to talk to Aemon." He called over his shoulder. "I'll let Mormont know, you two stay up here."

Wildling camp, North of the Wall, Westeros

"Ugh, place has more shit than when we left." Tormund muttered as he trudged back into Mance's camp, followed by his band of other free folk. "You lot do what you want, I'm going to Mance." He called over his shoulder before walking off in the direction of the King beyond the Wall's tent.

Nodding to the two Free Folk who stood by the flap of the tent he entered, feeling the warmth of the fire instantly. Seeing Mance sitting on one of the upturned logs they used for chairs and holding a horn of mead in his hand, he raised one of his big brows at the one sitting opposite his friend. He was a big man, maybe as big as Tormund, but was wearing armour he'd expect to see on a southerner. "Who's this?" He asked as he picked up the jug of mead on the table and poured himself a horn.

Mance downed his own horn and glanced at the man before looking up at Tormund. "Someone I think you should meet."

"So, you're saying who I should meet now as well." Giantsbane chuckled. "Right, so who are you? Some southern fuck? A crow?" He spoke, raising the goats horn of mead to his lips and drinking some.

The armoured man looked Tormund straight in the eye. He was clearly older than Giantsbane, that much was evident through his balding and greying hair, though the man had plenty of scars and looked to be blind in his left eye, he'd clearly been through a lot in his life. "Skjor, you must be the Giantsbane I've heard so much about." Skjor smirked and raised his own horn to his lips and downed the whole contents, not missing a drop.

Tormund looked at him for several moments before laughing. "That from Mance, or the Crows?"

"From your friend here." Skjor motioned to Mance. "Or should I say King?"

Mance also chuckled. "Just Mance, fancy titles don't mean much round here."

"Why's he here?" Tormund asked, looking at Mance.

"He was picked up by the Lord of Bone's group, found him tearing apart one of the Ice River Clans." Mance replied. "Twenty men and he just slaughtered them."

Tormund looked at Skjor for a few moments. "Twenty? Impressive." He chuckled and downed what was left of his mead.

"That's the not the impressive part, Tormund." Mance spoke as he set his own horn down. "When Rattleshirt found him..." He glanced at Skjor who was smirking. "He wasn't exactly human."

"What do you mean?"

Mance looked across at Skjor who only smirked again and crossed his arms. "What I mean is he wasn't human when Rattleshirt found him, called him a beast."

Tormund glanced at Skjor again, studying the man's features, wondering what his friend could be referring to, and he knew the Lord of Bones didn't lie. "A beast you say? Show me."

"I can only change once a day." Skjor shrugged. "So you'll have to wait until tomorrow."

Tormund looked at Mance for a moment who nodded slightly. "Seems so." He nodded before pouring himself another horn of mead.

Eadric Haraldsson - Hircine
Skjor - Hircine
Mystery person - Try guessing
Delvin Mallory - Nocturnal

And finally that's chapter 10
Again, sorry for the wait with this one and sorry for the limited interaction with Lysa, find her and Robin very hard to write.
And I promise we'll return to the capital next chapter
As always feel free to leave a review and such