Author's Note: Gonna start taking a little longer to get updates out. Make sure they're more fleshed out and enjoyable.

7: Lord of the Hanged

The Hand of the King chuckled as he reread the letter sent out by Lord Tyrion while his King, and one time ward, paced the council room, "It would seem that the infamous Imp of Casterly Rock is enjoying his time in the North." He commented to Robert as the man drank from the cup in his hand, "Why does this worry you so?"

"They're Wildlings, Jon," the King spat angrily, "Fucking Wildlings! What if they decide to come South!?"

Jon Arryn shook his head, "Then I dare say that Jamie Lannister and the King's Guard will finally have something to do." He chuckled as the man refilled his cup, "Oh, come now, Robert, my boy, you know our Ned just as well as you would your own brothers." He reminded the drunken King, "Better, even, as your brothers have not spoken words to you since your coronation."

"Yes, of course I know him," Robert said before sitting down at the council table, "He has two sons, now, did you know? One baseborn, and a trueborn," he sighed as he remembered holding his stillborn son in his trembling hands, "The gods have been kind to him, even if that baseborn will make him look shameful to that Southern born wife of his."

Jon agreed with him, "Aye, the gods have been kind," he said, "Though I believe that Lady Catelyn may yet surprise you. T'is not the child's fault he was born, nor can she fully blame Eddard for a single moment of weakness." He said as he continued looking over the letter, "Though I dare say that the Northern wilds seem to be more dangerous than I remember." He said as he flipped the parchment over and saw an etching of the creature that Tyrion had called a Griffin. "A fearsome beast to be certain."

Robert reached out for the page, Jon passing it to him willingly, and looked at the monster. "Yes, never seen the like of it before," he gave Jon a small look, waving the page, "Imp's lucky to be alive after running into this beast."

"Cersei will undoubtedly be disappointed at his survival," Jon said in a small jest, and slight jab at his foster son's wife.

Robert nodded in agreement, only finding the jape slightly funny, "I have no idea why she hates him so," Robert said, "I've always liked him. Only person that could come close to outdrinking me."

"You know it's because of her father," Jon shrugged, "Not only does he blame the young man for his wife's death, but being born a dwarf he feels slighted to be the sire of such a child." Jon said as Robert nodded, "But no one can deny that Tyrion is a good man, if nothing else, he is intelligent beyond what Tywin believes...but Robert, we've gone off topic, haven't we?" He smiled at the younger man. "Concerning Ned and those Wildlings, I believe we have nothing to fear. Not only does Tyrion trust them, but so does Ned, and you know that he is not one to trust so easily."

Robert sighed, "I know that you are right, Jon, but..." He shook his head, "I should have let him have the throne...without Lyanna I - "

"But you didn't, Your Grace" Jon reminded him, in no mood for another one of the man's pitiable tyraides, "He didn't want it anymore than you did."

"Yet I've let the Lannisters all but take over," he sighed with a long drink, "I worry for my next child."

Jon sighed, knowing that Cersei was nearing her time. "It may not be as you fear this time, My King." He said in a fatherly manner, "You will be blessed with a child to carry on your name, your line, and your crown."

Robert nodded, knocking back the cup and draining it.

"Your hospitality toward my people has been very generous, Lord Stark," said the Elf Lord as he sat across from the Warden of the North in his solar, "Given how our peoples have acted toward each other, I expect at least some animosity."

Eddard shook his head, "I have just returned home from a war that was fought for everything but the right reason," the young Lord said, "Animosity is the furthest thing on my mind." He promised with a smile, "I would rather forge alliances that would benefit both our peoples, as well as the Northern realms as a whole."

The Elf, Paelias, seemed skeptical.

"I pride myself on knowing when I can trust someone," he said, inclining his head to the man, "Oddly enough, I have heard no lies since entering this hold." He leaned back in his chair, looking about the room, "A man such as you should be disgusted to be in the presence of an Elf, or even a Dwarf, yet, you treat me and my warriors as if we were long lost kin." His long ears rose and fell, "And you do not seek recompense after we detained your brother, and the human-dwarf?"

Eddard shook his head, "Why would I?" He asked, "My brother was returned unharmed, as was Lord Tyrion. They did, however, trespass onto your lands, so it is I that should be asking if you would like something in the form of compensation."

"The dwarf said that you would seek our friendship," Paelias said, "That we, my people, could trust you."

Eddard shook his head once more, "Trust, as with any reward, must be earned." He said, the Elf looking at him with surprise evident on his exotic features, "Just because we may form an alliance, I do not expect you to blindly trust me, nor could you expect me to entirely trust you."

Paelias looked at the man with a new light in his eyes, "You seem wise for one so young," the Elf said, a slight smile coming to his lips, "And something tells me that I can trust you, even though this is the first time we have met." He pointed a thin finger at the man, "You are not like most men that I have come to know through my many years. I see no greed, no lust for power in your eyes. Nor do I see the revulsion my kind tends to invoke in humans."

At this, Eddard shrugged, "People are people. Whether they are short, tall, or long in ear makes no difference to me." He said as the Elf rose to his feet and moved toward the mantle. He then picked up one of the many dragon eggs adorning it. "Lovely, aren't they?"

"Indeed," Paelias said as he turned the egg over in his hands, "Though with so many in your collection, I have a hard time believing that you have not yet hatched one."

Eddard chuckled as he rose from his chair, reaching into his pocket to bring out the blue egg he had taken to carrying around. "If I knew how, then I would do so," he sighed, "The extinction of the dragons was possibly one of the greatest tragedies the fall of the Targaryens brought about."

Paelias turned to him, "In olden days, when dragons would pass through these lands," the Elf said, "They would find secluded caves to nest in. Few of the eggs ever hatched, for other dragons would raid the caves and consume the young." He looked at the lord, "Those that did hatch needed to have life burned into them by their parents' fire, and the blood of another."

"Fire and blood was a favorite saying among the Targaryens," Eddard said, "I assumed that this meant that offered blood to the eggs while being set ablaze."

Paelias nodded, "You're partially correct," the Elf nodded, "The dragons would take someone from my village from time to time, and burn them alive on top of their eggs." Eddard looked at him in horror. "Your Targaryens did something similar. They did give the eggs blood, but the fire had to match that of a dragon's breath."

Eddard frowned at the tiny egg in his hand, "In either case, an offering of blood must be made." He reasoned, then looked at the Elf, "You've given me a gift in this knowledge, so I must give something in return." He said, his eyes landing on what the Elf held, "The egg you hold; it is yours."

Paelias' brow rose into his hairline, "You would gift me something of such value?" The Elf asked, holding the coppery egg up, "I could sell this for a fortune in gold, and become a king." He said in a voice that sounded disgusted by his own words, then his eyes cut to the man in front of him, "Yet I could also hatch this egg myself, and use it to burn the world of men to the ground."

Eddard looked at him with a small smirk on his face, "If you did that, then the whole might of the North would fall on you and your people just as we did on the Targaryen dragonriders."

Paelias returned the smirk, "You're an odd man, Eddard Stark. Odd...but honest and trustworthy." He slipped the egg into his leather armor. "I do not want war with anyone. My people are long lived, yet we are fewer than the Dwarves...far fewer than your people." He smiled, "You have given my people a mighty gift that will undoubtedly aid in protecting us. But if we are to be allies, then I must trust that you will also protect us if the need ever arises."

Eddard placed his hand over his heart, "On my word, and on my honor," he said, "If your people ever need aid, then the North will answer."

Paelias nodded, "And if the North should ever need aid of my people, then we will answer your call." He said, "I will also leave my youngest son here; he is among those that came with me to this meeting. He is much younger than many of those in our village, only twenty by human years, but he is old enough to mark his own path. And though his experience of life is precious little, he is our finest archer."

Eddard smiled in gratitude, "He will be treated like family."

Quest Update!

{People of the North - Bonus Quest}

[You have allied with the Wood Elves of the Wolfswood. You have gained Peren, son of Paelias, as a follower. Elven smithing techniques are now available. Elven magic is now available. You have now allied yourself with 3 new peoples of the North. Reward requirements have been met.]

Rewards: 1000 exp. {Exp. to next level 1025/1500}

6 Status points have been added for completing Quest Requirements.

Bonus Reward: Steel Plate Armor has been added to your Inventory.[1]

Your Job title has now been elevated to High Knight.

To Complete Quest: Forge an alliance with the Frost Giants.

Character Information

Name: Eddard Stark | Level: 5 {1025/1500}

Race: Human

Job: High Knight | Fatigue: 0

Title: Lord of Winterfell & Warden of the North

HP: 540

MP: 50

Strength: 19 | Vitality: 18

Agililty: 18 | Intelligence: 20

Sense: 15

Remaining Status Points: 6

Several days Later -

Eddard was watching his two young boys sleeping in their cribs, smiling at how much they had grown in such a short time. Robb had his mother's Southern features, and her red hair. Jon, however...Jon was of the North in all things save for his pale skin. Paler than even a Northern man. His dark brown hair had become curly, and his eyes, though he knew that he had Targaryen eyes, could be mistaken for grey, thank the gods.

[Sansa will be coming soon. Four years cannot pass by quickly enough, yet I feel as if this moment won't last long enough.] He said fondly, silently vowing to make sure that his daughter would not be the simpering little girl with lofty dreams of being the next queen. [She will be of the North, I will make certain of that.]

Suddenly, the air grew still in the children's room, and Eddard knew that he was no longer alone. He turned toward the window where he saw the familiar cloaked figure. "They grow well." Said the deity. "You must be proud of them."

Eddard nodded, "I am...and I thank you for what you've done for me." He bowed his head to the god, "My Lord Odin."

Thunder boomed outside of the window as lightning flashed. Odin looked as though a great pain had left him as his one remaining eye closed. "I must bless the people of Durin," he sighed as he stepped away from the window, "I have not heard my name uttered for millenia."

Eddard kept his eyes lowered respectfully, "I was warned against trusting you," he admitted, "I was told that you are rarely...benevolent."

Odin nodded his head sadly, "Aye, I was once an untrustworthy being." He said as he approached Robb's crib, "But that is no longer."

Eddard nodded, "You've helped me a great deal with so little, that I cannot begin to thank you enough," he knelt to the floor, "Even if you are only using me for your own purposes, I am grateful."

Odin made a gesture with his left hand, "Rise, my young friend," he said, the young man doing so right away, "I did not give you these gifts to earn your gratitude, nor your loyalty." He admitted, "I gave them to you...so that the people may remember us once more."

Eddard frowned, "You mean the true names of the gods?"

"Yes," Odin nodded as he looked down at the baby in his crib, "When a god's name is forgotten, they lose their power. Their identity. Soon, they forget who they are themselves, and are as ghosts drifting through the realms, praying that someone will call out their name."

"Yet you did not forget?"

Odin shook his head, "As the chief of the gods, and eldest of them all, I am cursed with the knowledge of all knowledge. I know the names of every god that has been forgotten throughout time, and yet, I cannot forget who I am, nor can I call out the names of those that have forgotten their names." He looked at the young human sleeping with a sad smile on his face, "Gods...are terribly weak beings, you see?" He reached down and brushed the boy's hair softly, "We are gifted with incredible powers and abilities, yes, however we need the love of mortals to maintain ourselves. Like a man that is starving for even the smallest crust of bread, a god starves for the love of even a single mortal worshiper."

Eddard frowned, "But the things you've shown me - "

"How many mortals will die when the Long Night comes?" Odin asked, "Hundreds? Thousands?" He sighed, "After your death I saw countless deaths even before the rise of the Night King...and I could do nothing to prevent them." He turned to the young man, "Do you have any idea how it feels to..." he trailed off, shaking his head, "I forget myself."

"I can guess," Eddard said, "You gave me the Ring of Foresight, and I have watched my own death, and that of my wife along with three of my children while I watched as one was brutalized by a mad man, another became an assassin, and another become an emotionless - "

Odin looked up at him with a bit more fire in his eye, "It is that very act that I wished wholeheartedly to prevent," the deity said, "Your son will be born a powerful greenseer, and the Three-Eyed Raven will seek that power, not to pass on his own power, but to possess what Bran will have."

Eddard looked furious, "He seeks to possess my son's body?!"

"He does," Odin said, "And under his rule, I saw the world of men prosper for a time, but the Raven will seek more power than what he gained already." The deity said, "His current body is that of a Targaryen prince that was exiled. He seeks the throne that was denied him. But Bran will be crippled - "

"Not if I have anything to do with it," Eddard sneered, his fury rising as he recalled why his son had been thrown from the tower.

"Perhaps," Odin said with a nod, "But once he has gotten what he wants from young Bran, he will turn his sights on the another vessel." Eddard's fists clenched as the deity's eyes fell upon the sleeping Jon. "To the true king that has the gift of dragon's blood flowing through his veins."

Eddard snarled, "Then I should ride out and slit his throat!"

Odin looked at him with slight approval, "Nothing would make me happier than to see that creature destroyed," he said but shook his head a moment later, "But that is the reason he is bound as he is." He looked at the man, "His true name is Mimir, once my most trusted advisor, and later a hated enemy." The god said, "I bound him to a tree as punishment, but he found a way to free himself, but the Children of the Forest saw to it that he was bound once more when he threw himself into the Targaryen. A small gesture to make up for the grave mistake they made."

"Mistake?" Eddard asked.

Odin chuckled, "It was they that created the Night King."

Eddard wanted to say more, but he saw that the deity was beginning to fade. "You must go."

"I will be watching," Odin said, "Look to your house, young friend." The deity became transparent, "Look to your sons...all of them." And then the god was gone, leaving the young lord of Winterfell alone with the two children.

A few months later - Late in the year 282 AC -

It was now known throughout Westeros that the queen had birthed a healthy son. An heir to Robert Baratheon's dynasty as the king. She had called him Joffrey, and he was already much beloved as he was seen as the future of the kingdom.

Eddard knew better.

The boy, he knew, was no Baratheon, but a Waters. A Lannister bastard of the worst kind. A child born of incest between a sister and her oath braking brother. What was surprising, however, was that the queen was rumored to already be pregnant with another child.

In Eddard's mind, the years didn't add up. If this child was indeed Myrcella, then she was several years too early to be born as of yet. [Perhaps this child is actually Robert's?] He thought to himself, [I know that Cersei often took a potion that caused her to miscarry whenever she thought that she was with Robert's child.]

But he also knew that Myrcella was suspected to be Robert's only trueborn child by Cersei. Now he was met with a slight problem. If the girl, if this was her, and was indeed the trueborn daughter of his friend, then she would also have claim to the throne. But not as strong as Jon's would be if it were known that he was Rhaegar's son.

But that was a worry for another day. Now he had plans to make for his next journey across the Wall. The Frost Giants needed to be safe from the Night King.

As he was packing his things to make his journey, however, Catelyn came into the room, letter in hand. "Ned, dear, this came from Dorne."

"Dorne?" Eddard frowned, "What do they want?"

Catelyn looked at him with a bit of fire in her eyes; she was upset. "This letter is from Lady Ashara Dayne," he whirled around in alarm, "Eddard Stark," she said with a heated tone, "The Lady of Starfall is on her way here!"

Author's Note: Ned's got a lot of headaches coming his way. A dragon will soon be born. A lady will find a lord. And a false prince sits in the Red Keep.

[1] Skyrim's Steel Plate Armor

[2] Three Dragons will be hatched before the start of the Main Game of Throne's Storyline. One will be present during the battle with the Greyjoys.

If you wanna see what happens next, ya know what to do! Adios Amigos!