Sam

The chill of winter never receded at the Wall, though the portly youth could not help but think that he could actually feel the approaching spring in the air. "I cannot believe what you've managed to do with the place." He knew he should be focusing on the marvelous underground structure that the Stormriders had managed to constructed, yet he found his eyes darting to the slight blond girl that was guiding him through the impressive building. In nearly three months the newly created order had created a castle along the wall that rivaled Castle Black. No, that was not correct, it surpassed Castle Black and perhaps even Winterfell.

"The trick was discovering that there were the runes in the Wall," Lady Alma stated. "It is a good thing that Bran and Jojen fond them, else we would not have been able to create the walls of the castle. The books that we borrowed from Castle Black helped us decipher the runes, creating the ones that we used to fortify the walls of the castle and help it stay relatively warm. Once you are trained I imagine that you could carve the runes into the walls of the other keeps so that it is not so cold in the castle."

Samwell nodded. As the primary steward serving Maester Aemon it was his duty to aid the Stormriders in their task of deciphering the runes and putting them to use for the Night's Watch. While the books had been in the Night's Watch's library they had gone unused and thus forgotten for centuries until the newly established order of the Stormriders had come to the Wall.

"Cid says that he will bring three score with him from King's Landing, bringing our numbers at Icemark to four score, though Ramza is taking another dozen with him to Dorne and Highgarden to recruit more so that we may have our full contingent of six score," the ever pleasant mage stated. "They will be bringing up another three four score of men for the Night's Watch as well as another caravan of farmers, ranchers, tradesmen and smiths to settle the Gift."

The big boy nodded, "The old bear hopes that they arrive before the end of the planting season, else the fields will produce naught until next year. Still, your Stormriders have done much in three months."

He almost melted at the sight of a slight blush and smile graced the tiny girl's face. "It is thanks to Beowulf and Reis that we have come so far. Kenneth laments that we lacked a proper engineer, but at least Wilfrid managed to keep some of the blueprints that… Never mind. I know I'm boring you."

Distracted as he was by her mere presence he failed to note the half-truth she had nearly exposed. For his part Samwell felt his stomach twist whenever Alma mentioned Kenneth. Though he was roughly the same age as Sam and Rob, the mighty Stormrider was a head taller than Rob and larger than Sam, though unlike Sam Kenneth was all muscle. The way he swung his swords around during practice was vastly different than how any of the other Stormriders, even the much vaunted Ramza Snowstorm.

While he had seen little of the two, he had seen both sparring once. With Kenneth the swords were like dance partners that he wielded with loving care as he moved to his own rhythm whereas Ramza and Radd used one weapon to parry and the second to strike. It was almost as though the two smaller fighters were using one weapon defensively in place of a shield while the larger Kenneth used his size and reach to keep others at bay before finding a weakness to exploit. Yet despite the bigger youth's physical prowess it was often Ramza or Radd who everyone else deferred to when they were present.

"Lady Alma!" an excited voice cried out echoing in the vast chamber that currently served as the mess hall for the Stormriders in Icemark.

"Bran," the young lady returned with an eager wave, "you're back from patrol early."

The youngest Stormrider rushed towards them, stopping a few paces short before blurting "We encountered something on the patrol. Beowulf has put together another patrol. Kenneth will be in charge but he wants you and Lady Reis to go."

He could see by the sudden change in her posture that there was something more to what Bran had said than he let on. "Since we are short on men Kenneth has asked if any of the Sworn Brothers are willing to accompany the patrol."

That tidbit had surprised Samwell. Currently there were five Sworn Brothers, two Stewards and Three Builders. Jon and Sam were the most senior of the group as well as the only Stewards and the three remaining brothers had all been brought to the Wall by the Stormriders. Two of the builders were at Icemark to study how the Stormriders had refurnished and repaired the once vacant keep while the third was working the forge with the Stormrider's young smith Gendry.

A full third of the recruits that the Stormriders had furnished for the Night's Watch were literate, bolstering the number of capable Stewards in the Night's Watch. Many of the previous Stewards had not been happy with their swelling numbers as the bulk of them had only been placed in there because they were not capable fighters and thus Rangers, and lacked the strength and endurance needed to be a Builder.

Things were vastly different in the Stormriders as they insisted that all of their members be literate. While many focused on certain types of skills they were all ultimately capable fighters should they ever find themselves on a battlefield. The Stormriders were intent on learning, developing and mastering new skills to the point that each of the original Stormriders was able to fight with both hands and even duel-wield, though only Ramza, Radd, and Kenneth went into battle that way. Temperance was just as deadly with a bow or sword as she was with her trusted spear and lance, and Alma, well, she knew just where to hit someone with her staff if someone should ever venture close enough to her.

The Stormriders had made such a name for themselves that there was talk that several Maesters and students from Oldtowne were planning to venture to the Wall to study with them, though Master Aemon said little about the idea, he did not dispel it. True, few of the Sworn Brothers had actually seen the Stormriders perform magic, but there had been enough that when the Sworn Brothers were sent to man the other keeps and the new recruits had gone to East Watch and the Shadow Tower that word had spread south on the handful of ships that came to East Watch.

"Um, I'll go," he finally said as he realized that the Stormriders were waiting on him. "Has Jon been notified?"

The young Stark nodded, "He's with Kenneth right now. Meera and Jojen are coming, as is Lady Reis, and Lady Alma. They are taking Comet, Midnight and Shadow with them."

That gave Samwell pause. It had not taken him much time to become comfortable around Ghost as Jon had clear control over the direwolf, but the grumpkins, or as the Stormriders called them 'behemoths' were another thing altogether. The beasts were like a mix of bears and direwolves with horns. The males were smaller, but had longer forelimbs and almost hand-like paws that they used to topple mighty trees in a single blow or bore through stone with ease. The females were larger and fiercer, and their jaws could fit around those same trees to snap them in half.

It was the grumpkins that had dug out much of the foundation for the new castle that had sprung up around Icemark, though it was the Stormrider's magic that had reshaped the rocks into rough slabs and melted the sand to form thick panes of glass. Thus far Samwell had seen only Alma, Kenneth, Rapha, Gendry and Meera successfully control the beasts.

Meera worked well with Shadow, the mighty female proving to be an apt and fearless hunter. Alma had Shadow, the fastest and meanest of the liter. Kenneth had taken to riding the crimson Comet on his patrols. Obsidian was the strongest, though perhaps it was because he spent the most time digging, often sniffing out different ores in the ground for the smith to use in the forge. Nameless was the smartest of the liter, knowing when to use her size and strength to maximum effect though rarely straying from Rapha.

It was odd that Jon had volunteered to go, especially when Rapha was staying behind, but perhaps he sensed that there was more to what Bran and Beowulf had said about the patrol that caught his attention. Three grumpkins and two direwolves, an odd combination, and one that few people in all of Westeros would have dared to dream of seeing in person, yet Samwell could count himself as one of the few so have seen the once mythical beasts.

"Summer picked up the scent while I was skin-walking," Bran explained as he led them down to the yard. "The ground was scorched as though a mighty fire spell had been cast, but suddenly the flames extinguished. Beowulf thought it best that we head back to the keep for us to send a full patrol."

Again Samwell fought to control himself. He knew that the Stark brothers shared a magical bond to their direwolf companions, but that Bran could take control of his beast while sleeping terrified the bulky youth, and he was perhaps one of the more open-minded of the Sworn Brothers. Wargs, or Skin-walkers, and magic in general seemed to terrify most, though the fact that few believed in it might have been the reason why most shunned it.

The Stormriders were seen as the harbingers of magic. They freely used it in their battles with the Others beyond the Wall, and they were the ones who tamed the grumpkins, even to the point of having one of their members being able to take control of a direwolf. This was the side of the Stormriders that few saw, and perhaps the reason why they had chosen to come to the Wall so that they could avoid having the general populace seeing what they were truly capable of.

Bran's "patrol" had consisted of him assuming control of Summer's body. Following the direwolf's instincts the young Stark would then patrol the lands beyond the mile of cleared land that was a result of the Stormriders and Night's Watch's hard work. Though the number of incidents with the Others had decreased since the combined patrol between the two orders, there had been more encounters with Wildlings. Some said that it was because the Wildlings were fleeing the advance of the Others, though some thought that the two were in league with each other.

With a good portion of their numbers sent to King's Landing Icemark was barely manned. Considering the size of the newly constructed castle it was almost amazing that they had managed to construct it. If not for the gigantic and powerful behemoths the construction would not have been completed. As it was their patrols had been reduced to Bran or Jon skin-walking in their direwolves unless they encountered something that would result in Beowulf sending out an actual patrol. There were perhaps a dozen Stormriders out of what had once been twice that number, but when the Lord Commander returned from King's Landing their numbers would swell to over three score.

Whatever Bran had found, it was relatively close to the edge of the clearing, yet was something he had never encountered before.

Samwell could feel a slight thrill at the idea of encountering something unexpected - unfortunately that part of him was lost amid his concerns that whatever they were to encounter would likely kill him and perhaps all of their patrol.

Ramza

Having been raised as the youngest son of a noble house in Ivalice Ramza knew and understood the importance of proper etiquette, decorum, and appearances. Visually the Tourney and Melees were even larger and more impressive than the last there was something in the air that was not related to the early spring weather. It had hung in the air since the Stormriders had initially returned to King's Landing but had grown more pronounced since they had returned from the Vale with the Widow Arryn and the young Lord Arryn.

It did not help that he had not spoken with his friend and formerly fellow member of the Stormriders since he had been proclaimed as the Lannister heir or that there were tensions between the Master of Coin and the Hand of the King over the former's claim that it had been Tyrion Lannister behind the assassination attempt on Brandon Stark. Add to that the strained relations between House Martell and House Tyrell, as well as between House Martell and House Lannister, House Stark and House Lannister, and it seemed likely that an actual battle might occur rather than just a Melee.

Westeros might have a single king, but few forgot that it had once been seven separate kingdoms. There were still lingering resentments between various houses, noble and knightly alike. As there were no actual wars or battlefields this was where some grudges were settled. Though the participants provided their own tourney weapons that had to pass inspection, injuries were not uncommon as a result of the Melee. Most were insignificant as proper armor prevented any serious injuries and could only be pierced at certain points, yet they did not protect against all injuries. Broken bones, usually in the arms or legs, though sometimes the ribs, but it was the stray concussion that most knights feared as even the lightest blow to the head could become even more dangerous than a heavy blow to the head. There were many knights and former lords who were not the same after taking a blow to the head.

Things were vastly different in Ivalice. The existence of high magic allowed them to use it to heal virtually any injury, provided that the chemists or white magi were able to tend to the wounded in time. But the injured were not the problem.

Between the Fifty Year War and the War of Lions there had been a brief period of peace, though there had also been the brief uprising and riots by the Corpse Brigade and others who had been drafted into the war. It was not easy to transition into war, and even harder to transition from war to peace, especially for those who had not been prepared for the terror and traumas that resulted from massive combat.

Few realized the significance of taking a life, even in defense of one's own life or of the lives of one's companions. There was a reason why only Kenneth, Temperance, and Ramza were capable of becoming Fell Knights – each had over a hundred kills. The blood on their hands could be cleansed, but their souls would forever bear the taint from having slain so many. Yet the stain gave them access to powers that surpassed ordinary swordsmen. It was no wonder that those who craved the dark powers were willing to sacrifice others to attain it.

"Ramza!"

Hearing his new friend and now former companion's voice brought the former squire out of his thoughts. "Loras!" Turning around he waited as the handsome knight carted his crippled brother towards him. "And you must be Willas, Loras has told me so much about you."

"And he you," the well groomed man replied. It was clear that Willas was older, though his dark brown locks were in contrast to Loras' light brown. Aside from that the two had the same strong jaw and high cheekbones. Despite his handicap it was apparent that Willas continued to exercise, keeping his upper body fit regardless of his impairment. "I had hoped to see your prowess in person during the Melee proper tomorrow. Still, seeing you use the spear and lance during the Tourney reminded me of my younger days. I was not as polished as Loras, yet you managed to compensate for your lack of technique with a lance by employing your shield to deflect the lance. Not many would trust their shield as you had though."

"Thank you," he muttered. It was an honest assessment. He relied much on his mythril shield while many of the other participants used wooden shields with bronze or steel backing. Not only was mythril stronger than steel, it was significantly lighter as well, allowing him to actually move his shield arm to deflect the blow or to take it if needed. In a real battle he preferred to use his flail to parry then counterattack.

"Wilfrid," Loras greeted the Stormrider's scribe. "I had not expected to see you out of the manse. I thought Marach kept you on a leash."

The skinny boy clasped the other's hand, "Loras, it is good to see you. I actually needed to test something…" he glanced at Willas. "I was hoping to test it on you, Lord Tyrell."

At this the elder Tyrell turned to his brother, who in turn glanced at Wilfrid then Ramza. The former squire nodded once. "You have seen some of our magic, and even though you are no longer in the Order we are entrusting you with another secret." He knew that he need not ask if they could trust the two of them. "You will say that a Maester simply broke and reset your brother's leg."

"But the muscles and ligaments that were damaged," Willas remarked as he glanced at his mangled leg.

"They will take time to gain strength," Wilfrid explained. "You appear to have taken care of yourself physically, but neglected to do so with your legs."

"I trust you, both, no all of you," Loras stated as he gripped his brother's shoulders.

The elder brother nodded, accepting his brother's judgment. "What do I need to do?"

"Loras, help him stand," Ramza instructed. "Wilfrid will take his other side. This will hurt."

To his credit Willas said nothing, gritting his teeth as Loras aided him out of his seat.

In becoming a master monk Ramza had learned the pressure points in a human's body but in mastering the healing arts of a white mage he had learned the human skeleton. Combining the two skill sets he let his fingers map out Willas' broken leg, feeling out any stray bone shards as well as the misshapen and miss-set bone. With the map in his mind's eye, he pulled back his left hand, drawing chakra to his fingers before jabbing it into the deformed leg. The sound of breaking bone and muscles being ripping apart was lost amongst Willas' agonizing scream.

Wilfrid's healing spell was also lost in the cries of pain, though soon that subsided as the chill of white magic worked its way through the injured man's leg. The spell would help begin the healing as well as ease the pain, but it would not be enough by itself.

The spell cast, the young scribe reached into his pocket and extracted a vial. "Drink this."

The clear glass container glowed blue with an inner light. While it had magical properties, the light itself was the result of the mixing various frozen ingredients. This was Westeros' adapted version of an Elixir, the effects of which were rapidly improving with each day just as the effectiveness of their magic had grown with each day. Ramza knew that there was a correlation.

The scribe produced several vials from a pack once he assisted Willas back into his seat. "Take one a day with your breakfast," he instructed. "Keep the leg bound and do not move it too much, it will hurt for the next month or so, but after a fortnight you should be able to move it."

With his brother seated and now resting, Loras turned to Ramza, "And my payment?"

Ramza shook his head, "None needed. I know that had our positions been reversed you would have done the same for me. Just don't tell your grandmother yet.

"Wifrid will accompany both of you to the Tourney grounds, but if anyone asks tell them that Willas is undergoing a new treatment for his injuries."

Again Loras nodded, simply grateful that his brother might be able to walk again under his own power. The possibility of his brother being completely healed after a single spell was impossible, but after a few treatments it could be complete, yet here they were extending it to a longer period by diluting the Elixirs and limiting its effectiveness. Yes, Willas' wound would heal, but instead of the instantaneous effect it would be drawn out over the course of a day and would need re-enforcement with subsequent dosages.

While magic was becoming more powerful and easier to access, Ramza believed that few had the discipline to use it effectively and efficiently. Even the Stormriders were having issues with their spells – not in casting the spells, but in the destructiveness of their spells. In Ivalice combat magic affected only those on the battlefield, not alter the terrain. While there were advantages to both, the later could affect more than just the outcome of a single battle. Torching a field or laying waste to a castle were effective, they also made it harder for the commoners and local lords to rebuild.

Had the spells unleashed in the Fifty Year War or the War of Lions destroyed the land as well as the armies that had fought Ivalice would never had recovered from the former in time to fight the later. It was one reason why they had isolated themselves at the Wall where there were few around to notice the changes to the land and where few would be affected by those changes. Word of their magical feats would spread, even from the Wall, but it would be a controlled spread but the sudden increase in magical energies since the appearance of the comet overhead was slowly bringing it to the forefront.

Even now the comet was at the forefront of the people's minds as the open tourney fields did little to hide its presence. During the day it did little to steal the crowd's attention but at night it cast a crimson light that tinted the usually festive dress of the nobles into odd shades of red.

In the three months since it had first appeared in the sky it had slowly progressed from the being inches from the horizon to being close to forty degrees into the sky. By his calculations the comet would remain in the sky for roughly a year as it arrived in the winter and would see another one before it vanished from the sky. With each passing day it grew larger and the effects of magic grew stronger.

He was well away from the Stormrider's manse when someone hailed him. The red light overhead making his cloak appear to be a bright red rather than the steel grey it usually appeared. Since the Squire's Melee and the start of the Tourney many had mistaken him for one of the Lannister knights and even for Radd in their red cloaks. It made it all the easier for him to slip into the Lord Tywin's villa.

"What brings you here?" the gruff, deep voice of the Mountain demanded as the brute eyed him.

While most thought the man to be nothing more than a swordsman Ramza knew better. Yes, the man was large and powerful, used to getting his way because of his stature and reputation, but he was also a man who knew how to inspire fear and how to take advantage of it. It was rare for someone to not be intimidated by the towering mass of muscle, but Ramza was one such man. It was irritating to the proud knight and those who he ran into after an encounter with Ramza often bore the brunt of his sour mood. The titan of a man was not afraid of him, but he was angry. Not only had Ramza bested the big man, he had done so while unarmed and in front of thousands, yet there was no way that the big man could avenge his injured pride. That was what made the man's mood so foul and what caused him to take it out on anyone around him.

True to his norm, Ramza stood his ground.

Sir Clegane snorted, then turned away and spat on the ground before walking away.

Taking his cue, Ramza walked down the corridor that the proud knight had spat towards. With most of the city at the banquet or celebrating in the taverns and pubs few would notice that he had gone to see the Warden of the West.

With his performance in the previous Tourney Ramza was allowed to sit out the first round, resulting in him riding only two times before the King had called it a day. The slower pace was due in part to the muddy condition of the field and the fact that many of the defeated knights needed to be pulled out of the mud. The mud also forced the participants to ride slower, resulting in more bouts going all five tilts and forcing the King to declare a winner.

Ramza had easily won his first bout, riding all five tilts and unseating his opponent on the final tilt. His second bout was a mirror of the first as it again it took him five tilts to unseat the young knight. In comparison Loras had managed to unseat his first opponent on the second tilt while his second opponent was unseated in the fourth tilt. The Mountain was victorious in both of his bouts on the first tilts in two spectacular yet completely opposite fashions. The first was a show of pure power as he rammed his lance into his opponent's shield and unseating him despite the slower speed of their mounts. Against his second opponent he dislodged his opponent's helm, earning him a technical victory as any knight who lost any part of his armor was immediately disqualified for his own safety.

For many the extra time off between the final tilt of the day and the banquet allowed the participants a chance to clean up and change though it also allowed Ramza a chance to see to Loras and Wilfrid before dealing with the other business he had with Lord Lannister. It helped that that the city was in a clamor over the Tourney, Melee, and the royal wedding. Those not enjoying the festive air of the city were busy stocking their cellars, cooking for the vast crowds, or tending to the clothes or armor of the nobles and knights gathered.

He had little need of the hidden passages that Marach had discovered in his short time in the capital city. As in Ivalice Ramza had an uncanny ability to blend into the crowds of common folk, perhaps because of his common blood, though it was perhaps due to his lack of airs, something most with noble or high-borne blood had that he had not inherited from his father. Still, when necessary was capable of playing the noble if needed.

Tonight would perhaps be one of those nights. The meeting with Tywin Lannister was not a secret, but it was not something he or the Stormriders were openly announcing either. For his part the Warden of the West was also avoiding drawing any wanton attention. Most of the Lannister knights were at the tourney grounds along with Radd as they prepared for the tourney, only a select few remained behind to guard the Lannister's villa in the city and their lord.

Tywin Lannister and his brother Kevin Lannister sat alone in the cluttered hall, their books, maps, and various scrolls occupying the bulk of the surface of the table.

"You have several spiders in your house," Ramza stated as he stepped out of the shadows, "though none seem to be on this floor."

"Ah," Tywin said as he glanced up from his maps, "I was wondering when you would arrive."

"Spiders?" the younger of the two Lannisters muttered as he eyed the young commander. "In this house?"

"There are spiders throughout the city," the elder brother stated. "I keep them around because it is useful to have them here. Let them report what I want them to report, in turn they give me useful tidbits when I need them."

Ramza nodded, "There will always be spiders scurrying about."

"But you did not come here to speak of spiders," Tywin stated.

"No, I am not," the youth replied. He could see the man measuring him up with his eyes, slowly assessing not only him physically, but gaging his wealth and standing as well as his intelligence. "I came because you wished to speak with me, did you not?"

"Not one for games, are you?" Tywin surmised. "Far to direct and to the point, though it may serve you in a battle such tactics will often fail in a prolonged war."

"Which is why I seek to avoid any wars," he returned. "The best way to survive a war is to not be in one, is that not correct?"

"I see that your tongue is as sharp as your sword." A slight twinkle of amusement graced the man's green eyes as he turned to the maps on the table. "Tell me, what do you think would have happened had I not offered to come to King's Landing to bend the knee?"

"Is it not obvious?" Ramza retorted. "The realm would have gone to war. Your entire family would have been exterminated and bards would no longer sing 'The Rains of Castamere' but of the fall of Casterly Rock."

Though he might have been mighty and perhaps imposing in his prime, Kevin Lannister was far less intimidating than his elder brother. Still, the man was not pleased with Ramza's assessment, "We are one of the oldest of the noble houses!" We"

"Would have been slain to a man," Tywin interjected, silencing his brother before the man's outburst might draw any unwanted attention from their staff.

"The Crown would have been bankrupted," Ramza added. "Westeros would be in ruins and ripe for the pickings."

That caught the attention of the Lannisters.

"Your rebellion would have been the catalyst to start other, smaller wars that the King would not be able to prevent as only the most loyal of his subjects would be willing to heed his summons. Those rich enough to field an army would gather their own men to defend their lands, some might take up arms against those who wronged them in the past, others simply try to take what they can through brute force.

"War would have made the people suffer, and the results of the war would have made it even harder on them. Peace allows them the chance to harvest their crops, live off the land during winter, and take up the plow again in the spring."

Again Tywin gave him a measured look of appraisal. "You care about the commoners?"

"I am a commoner," he replied.

"But you could be a noble," Tywin added. "You are the true commander of the Stormriders, and you could have been a member of the Kingsguard."

"I will only take up arms when necessary – not for glory, wealth, or power." For a moment he locked eyes with the Warden of the West. The man was trying to get him to talk, yet Ramza opted to remain guarded. "You knew that resisting the King would not provide you with any of those things – that is why you bent the knee. You might be a proud man, but ultimately you are still a man."

"You are saying that you did not bend the knee despite asking permission to have him recognize your company as an order in the Realm?" Kevin scoffed.

"I serve the realm, not the king," Ramza reiterated. "I care not who sits on the Iron Throne, only for the people of the realm and how they fair."

"Why do you care so much for the commoners?" Tywin asked him finally.

"Because it is the people who make the realm, is it not? What good is a lord if he has no people under his protection? Own all the land you want, but if you cannot work the land what good is it? Without the people living off of the land there is no need for a lord. The same goes for the King."

"So you fight for those who cannot protect themselves," Tywin added, guiding the conversation away from the subject.

"I do."

"And if the King's laws were unjust?"

He paused, unsure how to respond. "Did you stand up to an unjust king? Or did you merely capitalize on his folly?"

They held their gaze, neither willing to break away.

"My actions are all that I own," Ramza finally said. "I care not for any legacy only that tomorrow is a better day for those who survive than today."

"An idealist then," grumbled Kevin.

From the look on Tywin's face it was clear that the shrewd man did not concur.

"Perhaps," Ramza shrugged. The conversation was over. Both had made their first impressions but Ramza knew that the proud lion would seek to manipulate the Stormriders and work them into his schemes.

"It was not my people who prevented the Sorrowful man from killing Tyrion, but they do know that he has allied himself with the Targaryen girl." Again he caught the slightest look of surprise on Tywin's face. "I hear that she has dragons and plans to amass an army."

"Would you stand against them?" Tywin asked coolly, his mind already focusing on this new detail.

"If they threaten the realm," he replied as he stepped into the shadows. "As I said before, I care not for who sits on the Iron Throne, but if anyone threatens the realm I will stand against them."

A/N

I think I'll leave things here for now.

Sorry about the delays. Fantasy football season is in full swing, and I just got a dog, so I have barely any time to dedicate to being online.

Dreamingfox