Arya

The sound of steel on steel filled the yard as the young men at arms practiced in earnest. Since the Stark daughters' return from King's Landing Rob had insisted that the men at arms practice twice as hard so that they would not fall behind. Having traveled with the Stormriders for a while, Arya felt comfortable with her assessment that despite all of the hard work that the boys before here were none of them were at the level of the Stormrider's recruits. She'd seen them fight armed and unarmed foes as well as intimidating beasts, and each of the fights had left an impression on her to the point that she could recall each strike, stroke, parry, and feint when she closed her eyes.

The other noticeable difference was the sound of their weapons as they connected with weapons, armor, or shields. It was not the sound of a typical weapon, but of a quality blade such as Ice hitting another quality blade, shield, or armor. Ultimately the Stormriders were proving that they not only had quality weapons, but quality fighters as well.

What she had learned from her time with the Stormriders was that none of them had started out as the best, but had worked hard to constantly improve themselves so that they could face any challenge, obstacle, or adversary.

"Good," she heard Syrio Forel cry out encouragingly as she swatted aside Big Marcus' thrust.

The tourney blades employed by the young men at arms ensured that any blows that did hit home would not be lethal, though they would leave bruises and the occasional scrape or cut but were much safer than using real blades. With her light single edged blade she quickly connected with a counter to the big meaty boy's wrist. Had she been using Needle she would have severed the tendons in his hand, keeping him from wielding his weapon. The practice blade merely left a welt but was enough to get him to drop his blunted weapon. Before he could back away she rushed in, pressing the blade against his neck.

"Well done Arya," Sir Rodrik Cassel's tone hinted at his displeasure with Big Marcus. "Marcus, you're bigger than her, use your size to your advantage – swing your blade to engage her, do not thrust at her just to keep her from dancing around you. You will face many knights and men at arms who are faster than you, do not get discouraged and do not let them dictate the battle."

"But I didn't want to hurt her," the bulky boy muttered.

"In a fight it's you or them," Winterfell's Master of Arms stated. "When you face her she is not Arya Stark – she is your enemy. If you hesitate here you are likely to hesitate in real battle. If that were the Kingslayer before you he would have cut you down before you could even hesitate. You should not hesitate either.

"That's enough for today," he finally said. "Get some dinner and rest – tomorrow we head out on patrol. Some of the local farmers reported seeing some shadowcats near their barns."

Arya fought the urge to allow her disappointment to show. As a girl much less a Stark she was expected to stay in Winterfell and be as lady-like as Sansa. Still, the Stormrider's success had begun to open doors for her. Not only had her father allowed her to take up sword lessons, but he had even found her a master that suited the blade that her brother had given her.

Still, there was so much more she could do. In the three months since she'd left King's Landing she had already learned the basics of the Bravos style and had even trained so that she could fight with either hand rather than just with her stronger left hand.

Yet for all her personal accomplishments she was forced to stay behind at Winterfell while the bulk of the trainees her age were out on patrol.

With a sigh she put her practice blade away before she began to strip off her armor. She could feel the difference in her body as she took off the protective chainmail shell, yet it was not until she had Needle on her sip that she felt truly comfortable.

"Arya." She nearly turned around to face the speaker but found herself to not be in a mood to deal with her father's ward. "Rob wants to see you."

She nodded even as she headed towards her room to freshen up. Unlike the boys she was not permitted to clean up in the yard and thus was forced to return to her room to clean up. It was not that she hated to talk to anyone after practicing in the yard, just that it provided her with an excuse to not talk to those she did not want to talk to. Theon was perhaps the third of five people that she did not want to talk to. With his message delivered, he promptly excused himself. The only time Theon liked girls to be sweaty was after he'd bedded them.

As she climbed the stairwell she glanced out of the windows at the crimson streak that cut through the mist and clouds in the southern sky. For a moment she simply stood in place, watching as the clouds seemed to part for it as though they had been slashed by the fireball.

Spotting her brother's messenger as he strode across the yard she was reminded of her summons. The Greyjoy heir had been in a foul mood since the Stormrider's departed with the autumn and it seemed that his mood would not improve for a while as he tried to live down the humiliation of being turned into a frog. He also did not take well to the fact that it had been a girl barely older than Arya who had humbled him.

By the time she made it down to see Rob she was surprised to see that she was not the only one summoned by him. Sansa was also present, Ricken, and her mother, though the latter two were standing beside Rob.

"Good of you to join us," her lordling brother said as he waved towards Sir Rodrik. "Father sent us a raven, though the King sent one as well. His wedding is set for the Spring Equinox. Though Father should be more than sufficient to represent House Stark, he has asked that both of you return to King's Landing."

Sansa perked up at the news. Her hastily arranged and undone engagement had not soured her to the appeal of the capital and the south.

"Unfortunately Sir Rodrik feels that the young trainees need some further training," Rob added. "Master Forel will lead them south to accompany you."

"But they're just trainees," her mother gasped.

Rob nodded. He clearly felt the same. "That they are, but you will not be traveling alone. The Stormriders and the Night's Watch will be sending a contingent south, and they will be stopping in Winterfell to escort the Winterfell contingent to King's Landing.

"Ready your things, I believe the Stormriders and the Brothers of the Night's Watch should be here in a few days. I understand that it will be hard riding rather than a leisurely ride in a carriage house, but you have both traveled with the Stormriders before so you should understand what you will be enduring."

Radd

The pending nuptials between King Robert Baratheon and Margary Tyrell prevented virtually all of the gathered nobles from leaving. Only the nobles from the Crownlands actually had sufficient time to travel back to their castles and return to King's Landing. Traveling was all the more difficult due to the winter rains. The warm weather combined with the humidity though made the capital feel all the warmer though, and the high waters of the Blackwater Rush kept people from bathing in the harbor as the swift undercurrents made navigating the bay difficult for even the most seasoned captains.

The bustle of the capital was not lost on Radd as he sought to catch up with his "father". Even as he learned the various banners and names of the houses sworn to House Lannister, the former mercenary could not help but spot the emblem of his former companions as they rushed about the city taking on various tasks and jobs. They, like him, had a job to do even though they, like him, wanted to be out and about.

The ominous omen in the sky seemed to throw the city into a crazed hysteria as everyone seemed to think that I had something to do with the recent turmoil or with the coming nuptials. It did not help that the city was nearly as full now as it had been during the Hand's Tourney as nobles throughout the Crownlands and Westeros began to converge on the royal city. That meant plenty of jobs for the Stormrider recruits and more recruits as each day brought more and more nobles and various youths who had joined their caravans just so that they could come to King's Landing and seek a place amongst the now notorious Stormriders.

The Stormriders' unique position was best described as a mix of the Kingsguard and Night's Watch in that they were respected, but almost anyone could join them. Boys dreamed of becoming great and famous knights, but the reality was that knightly titles were usually given only to nobles or those belonging to a long tradition of knights, thus making it nearly impossible for common born boys to become part of the elite King's Guard. The fact that the Stormriders did not care about gender or birth meant that the recruits could learn to be knights without having to squire for a knight or noble. In the past a few could become hedge knights, but few could make a living in times of peace. With the threat of civil war removed there used to be one other option – the Night's Watch.

While the Stormriders were not as strict as the Night's Watch, their ultimate goal was to increase the numbers of that order. All members understood that they were ultimately under the Lord Commander's control, though the current Lord Commander allowed the Stormriders some degree of autonomy. Like the sworn brothers of the Night's Watch no member of the Stormriders were allowed to marry, but unlike the sworn brothers the Stormriders did not promote celibacy, a policy that was not strictly adhered to by the Night's Watch. Though men and women served in the Stormriders, fraternization between members was strictly prohibited, a fact that Radd and Marach had pointed out to Ramza and Meliadoul.

Because the group also allowed women and treated them as equals to their male counterparts, there were many young women who were also interested. For generations past families would hope to either marry their daughters off or send them to either the Silent Sisters or to the Church of Seven, though some fell through the cracks and ended up working at a brothel. The opportunity for them to do more with their lives as well as the possibility of traveling the realm seemed to appeal to both boys and girls equally. Just by the count of grey cloaks that Radd has spotted as he sat in the Lannister's tower it was clear that the number of recruits that Marach and the others were dealing with had grown by at least three score.

The former mercenary turned heir to perhaps the richest noble house in all of Westeros knew that despite the fact that he did not wear the Stormrider's emblem he was still loyal to them. What he was not sure of was what his "father" wanted of him.

"What house does this banner belong to?" his "uncle" asked.

"House Lantell," he replied disinteresting. Born a simple commoner in Ivalice, Radd had caught Gaffgarion's eye because of his quick wits and equally quick reflexes. Like many other orphans he had taken to thieving as a child. Unlike his peers in the trade city of Dorter he stole only from the mercenaries and brigands that passed through his home city. A single sword, even a simple short sword, was worth more than what a family could make in a month, and a mythril blade was enough to feed an entire family for a generation.

His life would have been so very different had he not attempted to life the blade off of one of Gaffgarion's lieutenants during a bar fight. The rogue Fell Knight was a renowned fighter having carved his name out during the Fifty Year war, and his band had earned a reputation for taking on dangerous jobs that even the Orders of the Northern and Southern Sky would hire them.

Gaffgarion was well within his rights to have Radd flogged, perhaps even killed, but the old warrior had seen not only Radd's skill and ability, but his ambition, though perhaps it was more that the old sword saw the extent of Radd's ambition. Other thieves, sell swords, and brigands simply wanted just enough to get by, but when their money ran dry they were often forced to take risky jobs or rush into a job so that they could make ends meet. Radd was different. He saved the majority of the money he earned from his jobs so that one day he could afford some land. Unlike others who dreamt of going legit, he wanted the land just to horde his riches and to throw off any pursuers. He knew that he would not take up the plow, run an inn, or hawk wares. No, he planned to lease the land to farmers who would work the land for him while he took a percentage of their profits.

The old sword had seen Radd's dream and twisted things around so that he could manipulate the boy, reshaping him into something that he could use. Had Ramza not arrived the old sword would have likely finished with Radd. Instead the Fell Knight tried to pit the two against each other. That plan ultimately failed as the seemingly disillusioned squire found his resolve and moral code before turning on the man that had taken them both in.

Though Radd lacked the formal education that his friend had been given, Ramza had seen fit to instruct him personally as they traveled through Ivalice. Like the others he proved to be quick of mind and body, allowing him to fill the gap between their educations quickly.

The score of recruits that Ramza had picked to accompany him to the Vale were not only the brightest, but the most sincere in their desire to serve the realm. As a skilled Orator, the former noble was quick to discover a person's true nature and intent. Rather than opening a battle with his swords, he used his words to gage if battling was really necessary. If/when his words failed his swords were quick to strike.

For now, Radd's battle would rely on his mind and words. "House Lannett of Lannisport," he said as he eyed the banner that Kevin Lannister displayed.

"Your eyes wander," his uncle stated. "Does my lesson bore you?"

"Yes Uncle, it does," he replied. No was supposed to be the right answer, but Radd knew better. "We already went over all of House Lannister's distant kin and all of the houses in the Westlands. When I was a Stormrider we were all forced to learn all of the noble and knightly families and their banners and crests. Your lesson might be useful to one of the score of Stormrider recruits that remain in King's Landing, but for me they are redundant. If you were discuss the current heads of the houses then I might be more interested in the lessons."

The greyed lord eyed him, taking a few moments to compose his argument or lecture. "Do you know why you are here?" he finally asked.

"Father needed an acceptable heir," Radd answered. "Jaime is gone, and though he gave the traditional 'Ty' to Tyrion, he does not believe that my brother is a suitable heir and that he is a bastard, thus he had the King recognize me as his true heir and struck Tyrion from the family register."

Kevin nodded, "You have the gist of it."

Radd fought the urge to smirk. Yes, he had the gist of it, but there was much more that his uncle was not saying. And if Sir Kevin knew something, than how much more did Tywin know and not share with him?

"That shall suffice for today brother," Tywin's voice announced. "It seems that the Stormriders are much more knowledgeable than I give them credit for."

The former Stormrider almost cringed. 'He wishes to use me to discover what Ramza is capable of. And here I was bragging that they had instructed us and the recruits to know all of the noble and knightly houses. He probably employs some of the spies that Marach spotted amongst the recruits.'

"I had thought that I had a better measure of them," the elder Lannister stated. "I hope to remedy that with your assistance.

"But with you by my side I hope to never make an enemy of them as your unfortunate siblings did. Still, it would be good to know just how far their reach extends and how well funded they are. Of course any information you provide would be done voluntarily. You are my heir after all. I am not a Bolton to have my own flesh and blood flayed and tortured for information."

Green eyes locked with light blue ones as they stood face to face. "I chose you as my heir because I believed you to be capable of taking my legacy and making something great of it. There are plenty of Lannisters, but few have the strength of mind and body that is needed to be my heir.

"Kevin is here because he wants to see if you are a suitable match for his daughter."

The former mercenary fought a shudder. Janei Lannister had seen 12 summers, four less than he had seen. "You wish to strengthen my claim to Casterly Rock."

"And introduce you to all of your kinsmen, yes," Tywin said.

"The wedding will be held on the Summer Solstice," Kevin added. "Your wedding will erase the stain that your siblings left and soon no one will be talking of their treason. The attendance of your cousin Walder and hopeful other members of the Stormriders should eliminate any talk of Lannister disloyalty to the crown."

He had no reason to dispute this. He had chosen to accept that he was now Tywin's heir and the responsibilities that came along with it. Still, he did not expect that he would have to marry so soon.

"I understand that you are young," his father said, his tone flat and emotionless yet baring venom. "While we are in King's Landing you may frequent the whore houses as you please, but once we return to Casterly Rock you will be committed to your future bride and to House Lannister – if you are not then I will have no recourse but to allow the other players on the board to do what they will."

"'Other players'?" he repeated.

"Your sister played the Game of Thrones and lost," Tywin stated. "She lost and paid for it with her life along with the lives of those who supported her. I will not play that Game but that does not mean that I don't know who else is playing or what they might be scheming.

"Your friends are smart, they know all of the noble houses, but do they know who is scheming to undo them? Do they know who is attempting to manipulate them?" Again the two locked eyes. "I think not. Your master of shadows is good, I will give him that, but he has not had the chance to refine his network like the Spider has. Even Littlefinger has a better network than you."

He knew that he was being baited, but they really did need to know. It was times like this that he wished he had Ramza's natural oratory skills. "Is this you underestimating the Stormriders again?"

His father broke off opting to take the lord's seat that Kevin had avoided using. "They are but a score strong now, perhaps two score – what could they do with the Spider's birds amongst their number?"

It was Radd's turn to pause and recollect himself. "I understand why you chose me father," he said finally. "You knew that Ramza would have refused you, but that he would accept it if I came with you." A slight nod of acknowledgement was all the answer he needed. "I advise you to not underestimate him. He has seen better men than you fall, their schemes thwarted, their names and legacies lost. Ramza is not Eddard Stark."

"You are going to say that Ramza, a boy of sixteen, is a better judge of character than the righteous Hand of the King," Tywin interjected. "That is why he administered the test to the perspective recruits, is it not."

This time Radd nodded in reply.

"Perhaps he is a better man than Lord Stark, but that is not saying much," his father added.

Despite himself the young Lannister smirked. "I shall allow you to continue to underestimate him and the rest of the Stormriders."

That riled the old man up. "Tell me then, what makes young Ramza Snowstorm such a great man."

He wanted to answer, but he knew that now was not the time. "The best way to know him is to speak with him yourself, my lord father. My only advice is to treat him as though you were speaking to yourself."

Brienne

The remaining trip to the Eyrie passed without further incident. There were a few encounters with packs of Shadowcats, but the mountain clans did not dare to cross the Stormriders. Several bands did approach them to share the food at night, and the venison and turkeys were the only things being cut open.

Ramza spent much of his time mingling with the newest recruits, just as he had when she had been in their shoes. Following his lead the others did the same, working hard to get to know their new companions. It was more than simply making an effort to get to know the recruits; it was him making them feel as though they belonged amongst the Stormrider's ranks.

No longer were the new recruits simply recruits, they were now blooded warriors. The battle on the ridge against a larger number of mountain clansmen as well as several encounters with packs of shadowcats and wolves turned the young boys and girls that shook when they stood before their enemies into confident young fighters that did not hesitate to follow their commander's every order.

Ramza's actions during the battle sortie with the clansmen had left a distinct impression on the new recruits, just as the summoning spell on the Seventh Sister and the battles with the Others had with the handful of recruits and Brothers of the Night's Watch. Many of the recruits had initially been intimidated just to be around Ramza, but that had ended after the second night in the mountains.

With the threat of the mountain clans removed, or at least diminished, Ramza had decreased the size of the nightly guard from six to four, providing himself and the others with the Stormrider emblem more time to speak with each of the new recruits on their shift.

The residents of the Eyrie seemed to be just as inhospitable as the clansmen had initially been, greeting the troupe with their arms drawn and the gates to the Bloody Gate barred. "What is your business?" the apparent captain of the guard demanded from atop the fifty foot wall.

"We are the Stormriders," Meliadoul replied. "We are here by order of the King. Have you not received the ravens that the Maesters in King's Landing sent?"

Several shouts were exchanged between the captain of the guard and the apparent lord of the holdfast as the men at arms and knights sought to confirm what Meliadoul had stated.

"If you doubt us I do have a writ from the King and the King's Hand," Ramza said as he edged towards the fortified walls. "This has both of their seals."

From where she was she could hear the knights conferring with their compatriots, though she could not make out their exact words.

"Let them through," an aged knight proclaimed as he walked the wall overhead. "I was at the Hand's Tourney and stayed to see the Stormriders claim a victory in the Tourney and the Melee. That is Ramza Snowstorm himself, the winner of the Melee. Over there is Red Walder, the youngest son of Emmon Frey and Genna Lannister, who joined the Stormriders once they were acknowledged as servants of the realm."

"But the Lady Arryn" the lord of the holdfast said aloud before his voice quieted down so that the Stormriders could not hear.

"The Lady Arryn rules but one of the seven realms within Westeros," the old knight stated loudly so that even the Stormriders could hear "we still call Robert Baratheon our king, and if he has sent the Stormriders to the Vale we had best allow them entry."

"The Lady Arryn decreed that no one from outside of the Vale be granted entry," the other lord argued. "Even if they are as good as you claim them to be, they are outside of the gates and there are just over a score of them. We have a hundred archers and fifty knights no one will know that they even came here."

From the corner of her eye Brienne could see Ramza shake his head. With a mighty leap he was suddenly out of his saddle and was now standing atop the wall beside the arguing lords. Several startled cries greeted him as the guardsmen were no doubt surprised to find him suddenly amongst them.

In a matter of minutes the gates were opened allowing the Stormriders entry.

It was an impressive feat, one that Brienne knew only two Stormriders were capable of. Unfortunately the guardsmen of the Bloody Gate did not know that. Brienne could not help but feel slightly disappointed in that she knew Ramza and the other senior members of the Stormriders had plenty of other things that they could do that would surprise everyone. She'd seen Temperance jump and knew that Ramza was just as capable as the master dragoon was, leaving her less impressed than the new recruits. Besides, they'd all seen him fighting at the ridge, though the cliff had been only twenty feet, not the menacing fifty that they stood before now.

Then again, she was glad that they were not forced to fight as few of the Stormriders were as capable as Ramza. While he might be able to fight scores of men at arms at a time the rest of them were not. Even at the rate that the recruits were improving they would not be ready to fight such a battle for a while.

Still, the Stormriders had made an impression that would not be forgotten any time soon in the Vale.

Reis

The evening sky was surprisingly red as a flaming comet appeared in the southern sky. Each glance at the fiery omen sent a chill down the dragonkin's flesh as she sensed an otherworldly dread and power emanating from it. From her talks with Bran, Jojen and her correspondences with Samwell it was clear that this cosmic event had not been marked in the history of Westeros.

She could not help but wonder if there had been a similar event prior to the Stormriders arriving in this world, but from all reports there had not. It was more than simple coincidence that the flame in the sky felt wrong.

Beowulf and Cid believed her, but neither would do anything until Ramza returned or at least sent word.

"We must head north," the heir to House Reed said as he joined her atop the Wall.

"You are not with Bran and the" she was about to say 'behemoth' but she knew that she was supposed to use the name that the people of Westeros had given them.

"Grumpkins," the boy finished. "You appear to be distracted. Does the bloody star bother you?"

She nodded.

"You think it an omen, do you not?" the mature youth asked.

Again she nodded. "You feel it too, do you not?"

He shook his head, "I do not, but it does concern me that I do not see it in my dreams."

"At least it makes things easier to see at night, though I imagine anyone beyond the Wall can see us easier. It is a good thing that we are so high up." Tearing her gaze away from the star in the southern sky she pondered how it was able to remain in the sky in the day and at night.

"Bran's abilities will soon surpass my own," Jojen stated as he gazed down at the hulking behemoths and the handful of trainers that were working with the young beasts. Though they were perhaps a month old they were already larger than a wagon. In Ivalice they were known to grow nearly as large as dragons. If they grew to that size then they would be forced to traverse the passage through the Wall in single file, though they would also be large enough to pull down fully grown trees by themselves by then as well. "He is now able to skin-walk into Comet."

Reis lamented the boy's choice of names. Comet was the only one of his liter to not have the usual dark purple or purple grey coloration that was common for grumpkins in Westeros, or at least the ones that were depicted in the scrolls and texts that Samwell had provided them. The runt of the liter, he was also a bright red coloration, standing out like the bloody comet in the night sky when mixed in with his brothers and sisters. Only his horns were the brandished black that his kind possessed, though he lacked the blond mane that his siblings had.

The dragonkin understood why few in Westeros saw the grumpkins as they called them. The titanic beasts in Ivalice hated the cold, but these seemed to have been driven from the lands of civilized men thousands of years ago and were slowly adapting to the climate. Their dark coloration stood out in stark contrast to the snow, making them easy to spot. Their weight also made it difficult for them to traverse through the deep snow and ice as they hunted for their prey. From what she had learned of the creatures that inhabited the north and the lands beyond the Wall, ice bears would not provide a single grumpkin with sufficient nutrition. Only the fabled furry pachyderm that they called mammoths might provide the grumpkins with enough meat to be a suitable meal.

Fortunately for them they had evolved to eat more than just meat. In the thousands of years since they had been nearly hunted to extinction they had begun to eat leaves; the trees that thrived in the north were more than just pines and other evergreens. Somehow their change in diet had allowed them to be more resistant to the weather. Another adaptation was that the grumpkins were smaller than behemoths, though they were just as tough.

As to Bran and Jojen's attempts to skin-walk into the creatures, well, that was leading to mixed results. Jojen had learned to speak to them, but could not force his consciousness into any of them. The young Stark though was a natural at skin-walking, but even he had difficulty accessing the magically resistant beasts unless they were willing to accept him. At best Bran was able to slip into Comet when the boy slept, but when he did he did not control the beast as much as give into the creature's instincts.

Thus far it was Alma, Kenneth, Rapha, Gendry, and Meera who had bonded with the brutes, making it their responsibility to care for them. With their oversight and training, the grumpkins were able to harvest more than enough wood and stone to actually build a rough castle on both sides of the Wall. New battlements were also built, as were several balistas and catapults. A stable was constructed to house the growing grumpkins and a second re-enforcing and insulating wall added to each building to keep out the chill of the north. They also had enough wood for several years, once the logs were dried sufficiently to burn properly.

"We should head in for the night," she finally suggested. "Beowulf believes that our numbers are a bit too thin even with the handful of Sworn Brothers assisting us. It does not help that Ramza requested some of our number return to King's Landing for the royal wedding and the tourney."

Eddard

In the five months since he had come to King's Landing Eddard Stark had never felt comfortable or relaxed. Long meetings with the Small Council often ran late into the night, robbing him of the precious time he once reserved for bonding with his men during dinner. The injury he'd suffered during the assassination attempt had further robbed him of his time with his men, though he had made up for it by spending time with the Stormrider's Master of Shadows.

For the past two months he had acted injured even though in truth he had dedicated himself to sparring with the Stormriders that remained in the capital. The magic that the Stormriders employed had healed the injury that he had suffered, but also allowed him to take time away from the cesspool that was the Small Council.

Every ounce of his being hated the fact that he had resorted to such two faced tactics but he knew that they were necessary. Without the Stormriders both he and the King would have died and he knew that he needed to rely on them. The fact that they had gone out of their way to assist when they had nothing at stake had proven to him that they were trustworthy.

He could not look at Little Finger without feeling the need to throttle the conniving lesser noble. On many occasions he wondered why Catelyn had talked his brother into sparing the ungrateful bastard. He had yet to tell her that the man that she had thought of as a brother had lied to her about who had supplied the dagger that had nearly ended the life of their son, but he knew that she would piece things together. It was clear that he needed to deal with the master of coin, but first they needed to find a suitable replacement.

"The Stormriders are growing far too quickly!" Little Finger stated. "They recruit as though we are at war."

"They are only boys," Stannis countered. "How much of a threat can two or three score of youths, some of them girls at that? Besides, the realm is at peace, what need of we for more fighting men to feed?"

"We are at peace now, but were almost at war only a few months ago," Varys protested.

Eddard eyed the Spider, 'Just how much did you know about the Lannister plot? Surely you knew of it but why did you not act as the Stormriders had? Were you expecting them to succeed? Had they bought you as well?' "The Stormriders serve the realm," he interjected. "Had there been a war they would have served the King." 'They actually moved to protect the King unlike you.'

"Of course you would not protest against them," the Spider muttered, "each family they bring north to 'supplement' the Night's Watch brings more coin to White Harbor and Winterfell."

He could hear the underlying accusation, but with the King firmly on his side Eddard was certain that nothing would be done to hinder the Stormriders. It still amazed him that Robert had allowed the product of his former wife's illicit affair to live, but it had been clear that Joffery Stormhill was not the same person as Jeffery Baratheon/Lannister. That was perhaps the only thing that the King had against the Stormriders, though like Eddard he too was grateful for their intervention.

"They have only enough coin to provide for their current crop of recruits," the King proclaimed, silencing all others. Since the failed assassination Robert had taken his duties as King much more responsibly. No longer was he out hunting and drinking every chance he had, nor was he out whoring. Instead he had taken up his hammer once again, often challenging the remaining members of the Kingsguard to bouts of sparring. The other significant change was that he no longer hosted lavish feasts. Those changes alone had resulted in him losing enough of the girth he had picked up over the years so that he was now able to fit into his armor. "I have spoken with Pauline and Wilfrid, they assure me that any recruits that they pick up between now and the royal wedding they will send to the Night's Watch. Once the tourney marking my marriage is over they will take their recruits and those who are taking the Black to the Wall.

"Tywin Lannister has agreed to fund this Tourney, wedding, and the banquet with no cost going to the Crown," the King added. "Of course the Stormriders will field a team, as will some of the Kingsguard. Sir Barristan Selmy will also be looking for two outstanding knights to appoint to the Kingsguard rather than asking Pauline and Wilfrid Stormwaters to fill in. The vacancies have remained unfilled for too long."

The members of the Small Council nodded. It was unprecedented to have so many openings in the Kingsguard, but when three of their number had turned against the vary king they were supposed to protect; the order had lost some luster. It did not help that the Stormriders currently had most of the best swords in the realm. Only Loras Tyrell had come over from the Stormriders, though both Eddard and Robert had asked that Ramza and Cid take the White. Too many of the other noteworthy knights were associated with House Lannister, leaving them with few options.

"The tourney grounds are still suitable as we do not expect a larger crowd," Eddard stated. "The purse for the winners will be paid by House Tyrell, though it seems that they have opted to follow the precedent we set by having all of the participants in the Melee and Tourney pay an entrance fee. Early speculation is that there will be more participants than the previous tourney.

"The Stormriders and their recruits will be assisting the City Watch in maintaining peace and order. From what the new Commander of the City Watch has told me crime has gone down since the Stormriders began recruiting and with their increased training with the Stormriders. There are fewer reports of theft, fewer fights in the streets, and fewer murders as well. The commoners seem to be happy with the change in the city and with the threat of war removed many of those who came to join the army are now signing up with the Stormriders or accepting the incentives offered to take the black."

The others had little to say about this. Eddard had learned that the best way to silence them was to bring up the positive things occurring in the city, especially if it was something that occurred without the intervention or insistence of said council members. It was an effective tactic, but it rarely lasted long as they would move onto other problems.

Ramza

If there was ever proof that Winter's chill touch had not spread beyond the Neck of the North it was in traversing the Giant's Lance and the High Road. The mountain's immense size nearly drowned out the sky, exposing the squire to the thin air that he had only experienced while jumping along the paths of Mount Gulg or the Ural Mountains. It was said that when winter truly came to the lands south of the Neck then the Lords of the Vale would have no choice but to retreat from their seat in Eyrie as the castle lacked the supplies needed to ward off the chill of winter.

According to his guide there had only been five winters in her lifetime in which the residents of the Eyrie had been forced to come down the mountain. When they did retreat to the Bloody Gate the three way-castles had each been abandoned for the winter as the lightly provisioned castles were meant to house the animals and staff necessary for lords and knights to ascend and descend the mountain.

The blazing red comet in the sky provided him and his escort with sufficient light to navigate the mountain's treacherous and steep trails. He had not hesitated ordering the others to remain at the Bloody Gate as the trek up the mountain would take at least a full day at best. Rather than forcing them to endure a stiff march that could endanger the inexperienced recruits Ramza had opted to go alone save for his guide. The young lords and knights that had accompanied the Stormriders up the High Road were relieved, making it evident that there were more knights and lords at the top.

The castle had great defensive value, but little else. It was designed to make it difficult and costly to any invading army, but the fact that there were little to no resources meant that such an invasion would provide the attackers with only honor and death. The rocky path that led up the side of the Giant's Lance lacked any vegetation beyond the ragged weeds that marked their path, but boasted several sizable hawk or eagle's nests. The steep inclines and limited plants indicated that the mountain was barren of life as no goat, ram, or other mountain creature that could not fly would want to venture to such an inhospitable place.

With little to do but walk, Ramza listened to the girl, Mya Stone, as she spoke of the history of the Vale and her duties as a mountain guide. He knew that Stone was one of the names given to a noble's bastard child, and he knew that the King and the Hand had been fostered in the Vale under Jon Arryn, the man who had been the hand of the King before Eddard Stark. It had not taken a mathematician to figure out that the girl was one of the King's many bastards. Like Gendry, the girl had the King's curly black locks and strong hips and legs.

The speed with which they made it up the mountain surprised the girl. Clearly she had thought that weighed down by armor he would lack the stamina to keep pace with her or that he would have at least regretted not riding a mule up the first two legs.

While he did not doubt the ability of the mules offered to him, Ramza had always preferred to go afoot. There were few instances where he had actually ridden a mount, but after riding a chocobo, the mounts in Westeros were dreadfully slow in comparison. His own surefootedness had come from years of training in the various arts, styles, and techniques, most notably geomancy, thievery, and ninjitsu.

The Eyrie itself was an impressive building considering that the white stones that made up the castle were carved without the aid of magic or magical tools. What rough edges might have been left by the stonemasons had long been rubbed smooth by centuries of exposure to the harsh winds.

The white stone appeared red under the eerie illumination of the comet to the south. The late hour likely indicated that dinner had long since been served. Despite the castle's location it did not surprise him to find several men guarding the gate, the display was probably meant to impress upon him the diligence of the men guarding the remote castle. It would have been more prudent to keep the guards behind the barred door or atop the wall where they could at least find shelter from the howling winds, yet the four men that stood rigidly appeared to have garnered the scorn of either the Lady Lysa or of the captain of their guard.

After a brief introduction they allowed him in, pulling heavy doors open slowly as though they believed that the exposure to the chill night air would drive him back down the mountain. Compared to the Wall in even a mild winter, the Eyrie really was a summer palace.

It was no further surprise that there was no room ready for him either, forcing him to wait with an armed escort outside of the High Hall of the Arryns until morning. The obvious discourtesy spoke volumes of the Lady Lysa's clear distain for the Royal Decree that he brought with him as accentuated when several lords, knights and guards were allowed entry to the High Hall for breakfast, and the servants had completed cleaning the room before he was granted entry.

Officially he was just the King's messenger lacking even the title of commander despite being the true leader of the Stormriders. As a bastard born, he had experienced far more courtesies than he probably deserved, but such a display was appalling even to him.

Setting aside his poor impression of the Lady Lysa he confidently strode into the High Hall of the Arryns. "Ramza Snowstorm, of the Stormriders," the guardsman announced as he crossed the threshold.

Seven armored men stood on either side of long hall baring crossbows and spears while four more stood on each side of the elegant stone throne that overlooked the room, with a large circular dais several paces beyond the end of the table. The room was not as large as the throne room in King's Landing, but it was menancing. The howling wind from the open Mood Door ruffled the banners that lined the walls while also making the room feel nearly as cold as outside.

"What brings you to the Vale?" an armored man with the emblem of bronze with black iron studs and ruins. The lack of grey hairs suggested that he was not the lord of House Royce and as he had left Robar Royce at the Gates of the Moon it was likely that he figured he knew who was addressing him. From this distance the bowmen would not endanger the lady or the nobles that remained atop the raised floor overlooking the floor and the Moon Door. The four knights that guarded the lady and the young lord were reinforced by the nobles turned knights that wore their rich robes over their armor. From the lack of bulk he guessed that they wore only chainmail at best. These were seasoned men from the look of them, making them hard to overlook. Only two youths were present on the dais, the first a boy of perhaps five or six that appeared to be underweight and unable to stay focused on the matters before him, and a youth perhaps as old as Ramza. The leather padding he sported suggested that he had at least squired under a knight, but the lack of even a short sword suggested that he had yet to complete that training.

"I come at the bequest of the King and of your lady's brother-in-law," the young squire replied. Though he spoke to the younger Royce, his eyes caught the dark brown of the Lady Lysa's as she eyed her son. With casual easy he reached into his pouch for the Royal Decree even as he watched the maester for any sign that the man had knowledge of the decree. The man gave a slight twitch, though he tried to hide it by focusing on the sickly boy that sat on the throne.

The young Royce took the scroll from his outstretched hand then marched up the dais to present it to his a man wearing the emblem of black portcullis over a white crescent moon on purple with runes along the edges. This then was the man who had been the acting Steward of the Vale while Jon Arryn had been in King's Landing. Though he was of the cadet branch of the Royces, his experience and loyalty to the Arryns had earned him the trust and faith of the former Hand of the King. "His Royal Highness, King Robert Baratheon, the first of his name, requests the presence of the Lady Lysa Arryn, the widow to the former Hand of the King, at the Royal Wedding which will be held on the Spring Equinox.

"Furthermore, his highness has decreed that Harrold Hardyng be installed as the Warden of the East." This proclamation brought about several gasps not of astonishment but of outrage from the gathered nobles. Fortunately the former Steward raised his hand, silencing even his cousins from the main House of Royce. "King Robert Baratheon recognizes that Harrold Hardyng is second in line to succeed to the House of Arryn following only Robert Arryn. His appointment shall only be temporary until Robert Arryn, the rightful heir, is of an age where he can assume the rightful position that is due to him. While Harrold has yet to take the knightly vows, he must come to King's Landing so that he may take the vows which will be given to any squire who proves himself worthy during the Royal Tourney and Melee."

Again the gathered nobles grumbling interrupted Nestor until the elderly steward cleared his throat, "As Nestor Royce has proven his loyalty to House Arryn, I, Robert Baratheon decree that he shall continue to act as Steward and assist Harrold Hardyng in his duties as the Warden of the East.

"If any of the noble houses that serve House Arryn wish to dispute the Royal Decree, they must present themselves before the King before the Spring Equinox. Failure to do so will be taken as there being no objections to the King's appointment."

"What is to stop us from tearing up this decree and saying that we never received it?"

Ramza eyed Lady Lysa. Like her sister she had a cold, distant demeanor. Unlike her sister Lysa's stiffness overshadowed any beauty that her face maintained, making her look almost as though she were a loveless crone to all but perhaps her son. He knew that she would not be impressed by a show of force as the men guarding the Bloody Gate had been, and he was fine with that. Few realized that Ramza's tongue could be as sharp as the swords he wielded. "While it is possible for you to do that, it would not be prudent. Failure to comply with the King's summons would bring the might of the realm against the Vale."

Several nobles scoffed at the idea, confident in their belief that any war in the Vale would favor those who knew the territory and those who controlled the fortified positions.

"The might of the realm goes beyond the number of swords that the King can muster," he cautioned. "While the mountains of the Vale would hinder any invaders, they also make it hard for farmers to grow sufficient crops to feed those who live in the Vale. Is that now why the mountain clansmen raid the villages and holdfasts, and harass any who travel the roads here? How much do the Crownlands and Riverlands import to the Vale?

"And were not the King and the Hand both raised in the Vale as wards of Jon Arryn? While it has been many years since they were both here I am sure that they recall many of the hidden paths that the late Lord Arryn showed them, as well as how to access the multitude of orchards that supply the Vale with much of the produce that feed those who live here."

He let his words sink in. Taking up a sword was often the first resort of men, but Ramza knew that there was more than one way to break the fighting spirit of those he faced. "Lord Stark, your brother-in-law, does not wish harm to come to his nephew, he merely wishes to young Rob is brought up well and that his needs are tended to. The King would also like to know that the only son of the man who raised him and sheltered him from the mad king is well and wishes to repay the debt he owes to your late husband."

He could see that several lords were beginning to see reason. Lord Nestor Royce wanted to say something, but knew that in his position any words he spoke would likely be thrown back at him. The man's silence was far more valuable now than any of his sugared words. "His highness understands that with the recent loss of Lord Arryn the Vale was unable to muster any forces and is glad that he did not need to send for any troops as the Tywin Lannister willingly bent the knee to King Robert. Lord Tywin was not involved in any attempted coup and has consented to remaining in King's Landing until after the wedding and Royal Tourney as a sign of his support and good will, why would Lady Lysa Arryn not make a similar gesture? If the former Queen and the traitorous Kingslayer were your enemies, they and their supporters have been eliminated. If there are any that remain, your assistance would be greatly appreciated in weeding them out and bringing them to light."

Though the Lady Arryn scowled, she knew she could not refuse, not when some of her greatest supporters were wavering. While Ramza was just a messenger, he was still acting on the authority of the King. Failure to comply meant that they would be branded as enemies of the realm and while they might be able to hold out in a war, they would not be able to endure being starved out. "We shall make arrangements to depart in the morning."

A/N

That's it for now. Things are going to be going slower now that Fantasy Football is about to kick off. Sorry.

Dreamingfox