Hey guys, so here is the next chapter of The Lone Wolf. I know my updates are REALLY slow but I often end up rewriting each chapter a number of times before I am satisfied with it. This is my first work on this site so I want it to be worthy for you all, when it comes to Six I have a plan for him and in regards to his apparent openness with those around him. He has never been notoriously callous to anyone, especially children. Everything about him that I've written is from what I've researched.

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones or Halo as they belong to their respective owners.

Winterfell

Noble Six

The walls of Winterfell were beginning to become a welcomed sight to him, 3 deer slung over his right shoulder as he trudged forward silently. It was nearing midday from the looks of the sun, he had been hunting for only a few hours. It helped to get away for a bit if he was honest. On his left shoulder was a bow, specially made from ironwood trees. He had purchased it at mikkens forge a few days ago, Lord Stark had insisted he began to be paid for his work. Training the guards or doing some hunting, it helped keep him busy when he wasn't in his quarters.

The northern garment he was wearing was beginning to grow on him, though it would never compare to his armor. The gates now in front of him as it was opened and the courtyard displayed to him. The small folk going about their business as usual, women were either cleaning or preparing food for dinner. He approached the castle butcher and laid the deer carcasses on the table, the middle aged man gave a tight smile in thanks.

"A fine bit of meat here, Spartan. I'll let Lord Stark know of your contribution." The man said, handing Six a few silver stags and began cutting away without another word. Six nodded and left the man to his duties, the guards were due for training in an hour so he had some time to himself. He caught sight of flash of red hair and thought it to be lady stark, instead it was her eldest daughter Sansa. She seemed to be in a foul mood if her furrowed brows were to say anything. She was overlooking the battlements in silence, he had spoken with all of the stark children but her.

Six approaches her from behind, "Lady Sansa, I thought you would be with the septa for your lessons."

She spun around to face him, she gave a perfect curtsy even though he had no need for formalities. "Good morning, Spartan. I finished my lessons and wanted to have a moment to myself." She replied shyly, having to raise her head to meet his eyes.

Six gave a small smile, "It still surprises me.. the differences between your lands and mine."

Sansa quirked an eyebrow in response, "Father told me you weren't from Westeros, is that true?"

Six stilled for a moment as his mind drifted away, he would need to have a satisfiable story for his background. "Yes, my land is far from here and farther than you could imagine."

His ominous response was not lost to her, she could hear the distance in his voice. Though it was hidden well, she took a small step toward him. "Is it west of Westeros? No one has ever been that far before." She asked.

His lips twitched in response at her question, she seemed genuinely curious. He was about to answer her before a set of footsteps caused him to turn. It was Lord Stark, dressed in his usual stark clothing. Grim smile on his face as he cut the distance between them, eyes darting between himself and Sansa.

"Spartan, how fare you?" Ned asked as he took his spot next to his eldest daughter.

Six regarded him with a respectful bow of his head, "Well, Lord Stark. The weather agrees with me."

Ned gave a small nod before addressing his daughter, "I did not think to find you up her, Sansa. I thought you would be with your Septa?"

"I was with her, father. But our lessons ended earlier then usual today, I came up here to think but the spartan found me. We were discussing his homeland before you arrived." She answered.

Ned turned to Six with an underlying cautionary raise of his eyebrow. Six gave a small shake of his head that Ned understood, he did not want his daughter being told of the horrors he had witnessed. She was still much too young for that tale, he gave a grateful nod in response.

"Aye, we are very lucky for his help and allegiance to us." Ned told his daughter, she looked once more to Six.

"I've been meaning to ask you, Spartan. I hope I do not cause offense, but what is your name?" She asked innocently.

Six stood a little straighter at that before answering her, "I'm sure you've heard me being called Spartan, that is one of the only names I have been called. The name my brothers called me was Six."

Sansa cocked her head curiously, "Six? But, that's a number. Not a name."

Six gave a barely visible sad smile, "Yes, some of my people weren't given names. Only numbers, most chose a name for themselves. Others didn't or never had the chance to."

That seemed to surprise and trouble her as she continued on, "What of you're families? Surely they would have given you a name for yourself."

Six had to look away for a moment to think of an appropriate response, Sansa was still there and though he was starting to earn Lord Stark's trust. He still did not know of any lingering ears that would not take kindly to the information he was discussing. "My family never got the chance because they died before I could remember them or anything they may have given me."

Sansa looked sadly at him feeling embarrassed for bringing up his past, "Forgive me, I did not mean to cause you any pain."

Six regarded her father for a moment before kneeling down so she did not have to crane her neck to look at him, "You did not know therefore there is nothing to forgive, it was an honest question and one that you should not feel regret for asking. It is true that I will most likely never remember the name they chose for me, but that does not stop me from doing my duty. Being a spartan... is more than being a soldier as I said at the feast, it is about being a guardian of the innocent. A light in the darkness for those without hope, that is what it means to me. That is why regardless of my upbringing I will always be proud to be a spartan."

Sansa and Ned seemed shocked and moved at his determined declaration, the utter steel in his voice proved once more to Ned that he could be trusted with his families safety. Sansa could only stare at him as she could not help but feel safer with him around. She had only been able to converse with him twice in his time in her home, he had proven himself to her father when he helped rid the North of the bandits of the wolfswood. Yet, his presence was nothing to be afraid of from what she could tell. He truly was a mysterious man. Six stood once more before facing Ned, "I believe it is time for the afternoon rotation for training, Lord Stark."

Broken from his stupor, Ned gave a nod as he remembered the grueling training regime Six had devised for them. He had watched them a few times and was surprised at the results, many men were skeptical or apprehensive to their new trainer. However they soon learned that whatever they had to do, Six endured with them. He did everything with them, whether it be doing exercises with the men or simply providing instructions on new hand to hand combat maneuvers.

"Aye, Jory should be getting the lads ready. Come, Sansa. I'm sure your mother is looking for you, I'll let the cooks know to prepare the meat you've brought, Spartan. You should join us for dinner after the training is done." Ned declared as Sansa stared at her father, Six had been taking his meals in seclusion since the feast and had preferred to keep to himself. Never asking for anything he didn't absolutely need.

"I would be honored, Lord Stark. I will take my leave, the guards won't train themselves." Six slightly japed as Ned snorted in amusement. Six turned from the two of them and saw Jory with the hundred guards awaiting him in the courtyard. He shook hands with the stark man and eyed the men before him. "Unsheathe the arms you have for today's training, you won't need them."

One guard stepped forward, "What will it be for today, Spartan? More conditioning I assume?"

Six shook his head as they exited the gates into the open area in front of Winterfell, "Not today, Richard." Six faced them,"Today, we are going to focus on tactics and formations."

He could see the men look amongst themselves in confusion, "Spartan, we've already been trained in the ways of war." Burack stated, he was the senior officer of the group.

Six hummed in response, "You've been taught the Northern and Westerosi ways, but not the way of mine. That is what I am training you on, the way of death. When I'm done with you all, every last one of you will be better than you were before. These ways are brutal, unforgiving, and some may even consider dishonorable." That got a reaction out of the men, some looking rather cross at the suggestion they forsake their honor for anything.

"Why teach us dishonorable ways? Knowing how high we hold it?" Richard asked, clearly distraught at the notion. Six lowered his head briefly for a moment, these men needed to see that honor had no place on the battlefield.

"If you bring honor to war, you won't come back from it. I promise you that, if you want to achieve victory you must consider all options. Especially the ones that may seem the most grotesque. These next set of months you will learn about myself and my peoples ways, and myself will learn more of you and yours." He informed them, he needed them to see that he wasn't trampling on their honor. Only stating that it did not belong in war, in life? Absolutely.

Time will only tell, if his words are heard or not.

Jon

He had just finished cleaning the kennels and set down the water bucket as he felt eyes on him, he turned to his left and saw Lady Catelyn. Her glares never failing to make him feel worthless, all for something he had absolutely no control over. Averting her gaze he set off to the training yard to vent on some unlucky dummy. At least there no one would belittle him, Ser Rodrick was always kind to him when he was training him in the ways of the sword. It was times like those when he could almost forget that he was the Bastard of Winterfell, the one stain on his lord fathers honor.

He practically worshiped his father and the way he held honor above all else, but the one thing he wanted from his father. The only thing he ever wanted besides his love.. was who his mother was and if she was alive. But every time he brought her up, his father would start to choke up and close himself up and that would be the end of it.

Sighing to himself he readied his stance with the blunted training sword in hand, swinging with aggression the dummy gave a small respite to his sorrows. His arms growing tired with each strike and the vibration of the steel in his hand sending shock waves up his hand. Shrugging the sting away he continued his onslaught as a few on lookers shook their heads in pity.

He growled silently as he had no need for any pity, it would give him no comfort in the end. He started to focus more on the speed of his attacks as he swung faster with more precision, one day he would hopefully be a man of the nights watch. He always looked up to his uncle Benjen and the stories he would tell of going beyond the wall. Being a Ranger was a great honor and held lots of responsibility.

'One day... I'll be my own man and prove I'm more than a bastard.' He told himself as he gave himself a respite. Oh how he wished he wasn't a bastard, to be like the rest of his true born siblings. To know the love of a mother that he had been denied his whole life.

"A moving target is a much more dangerous foe than one that is not." Jon heard from behind him, his sword slashed in the direction only to be stopped. A hand gripping the blunted steel with ease before he gently pushed the sword away. Jon looked to the newcomer and was slightly taken aback as the spartan was in front of him.

"I know that, but no one would want to trade steel with a bastard here." Jon explained setting his guard down.

Six stepped closer to him and took up a defensive stance, "I will."

Jon was motionless for a second before responding, "It would be an insult to you if I struck you."

Six regarded him for a moment, "You are absolutely right." The response shocked Jon, for a brief moment he thought the words came out more harsh than he intended, context it appears was needed. "If." Was all Six replied with, seeing the boys eyes narrow at his goading. He felt a tug at his lips, some young men just needed a release and someone to take the brunt of it.

Jon picked his sword back up and steadied his breathing as he studied Six's stance. Six was facing him but his shoulders were slanted at an angle, his fists clinching and unflinching. Jon stepped forward and slashed fast to the right only for the spartan to bat away the attempt with his hands.

"Your opponent will not always be armed, should you come across someone who is proficient in hand to hand you must be prepared." Six advised.

Six threw a slow enough jab for Jon to step back and avoid it, "What use is a fist against a sword?"

Six advanced slowly, "If you think a sword is all you need for protection, then you'll only end up dead." Six started going faster as Jon started deflecting the punches as fast as he could. The spartan was unrelenting as he kept up the attack, he ducked under a right hook to slash the midsection of Six. Only for Six to lean out of the way in time. He jumped and threw a kick at his head before Jon rolled away, he was panting heavily as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

The spartan moved to the right as he stared down at him, Jon knew he was being played with. "Is that it?" Six held a hand up in a 'come on', gesture. Jon charged forward with his sword held high, driving it towards Six he was shocked to find the man was not in front of him anymore. He felt a tug at the neck of his tunic as the sky was in front him, the ground shook as he was slammed into the earth. A startled gasp escaped his mouth as he felt the air leave him, the tall imposing figure of the spartan stood over him. But surprisingly, no arrogant smile or taunting face.

"You have strength and speed, Jon. But you must learn what type of enemy to engage.. and what not to." He lowered his hand in an effort to help Jon up, he took it gratefully.

Brushing the dirt off him he eyed the spartan curiously, "How do you move so fast, it was if you vanished into the air itself?"

"Spartans were given specific training, it enabled us to engage enemies in a much more effective way than what you were taught." Six answered as he picked up jons swords and handed it back to him.

Jon hesitated before asking, "Could.. could you teach me? To fight like you?"

Six raised his head and Jon could feel the Spartans' calculating gaze before huffing, "I've finished the guards training for today, when you are done with whatever Lord or Lady Stark have given you to do tomorrow. Meet me here and we will discuss just what you will need to learn." Six made to leave before stopping, he put a hand on Jon's shoulder. "Do not be too hard on yourself for today's spar. You have much to learn in other crafts of combat. Take it as a learning experience, learn from your defeats rather than berate yourself for not being better."

Jon could only stare at the man in front of him, he was expecting a refusal regardless of the fact Six had said that his status would not be a factor. Maybe, he could finally have a comrade that wasn't indifferent to him. His siblings always treated him well, except for Sansa and that still pained him that she had taken after Lady Catelyn in the treatment of him.

"Thank you, Spartan. I will not disappoint you." Jon said with determination, the spartan before him merely gave a small smirk before nodding and going on his way. Jon turned back to the weapons rack; sword in hand and could not help but feel much better now that he had spoken with Six. He would do his father proud and become a great warrior. With renewed vigor he hacked away at the dummy once more but tried mimicking the moves that had defeated him. For once, Jon had a reason to be excited for the next day.

Ned

"Have the children prepare for dinner, the spartan will be joining us as well." Ned instructed as Maester Luwin trailed behind him, carrying several raven scrolls to be sent out that day.

"Yes, my lord. I feel I should inform you of the latest shipments of lumber from the glovers, they've yet to arrive again." Luwin said, voice laced with caution and warning.

Ned stopped walking abruptly as he digested the news, this was the second time in the last fortnight the carriages had been missing. He would need to send men out soon to investigate the disappearances. If this was another group of bandits he was determined to put an end to them once more, but for some reason. He felt something worse was afoot. He faced his Maester, "Send a raven to Lord Glover to halt the shipments temporarily, I will not endanger anymore lives if I can spare them a dark fate."

Luwin nodded and went away without another word, Ned resumed his walk to his solar. He needed a moment alone before dining with his family and the spartan, various guards bowing their heads in respect as he passed. He noticed that a few of them were standing more vigil and had bruising on their arms, no doubt from their new found training from the spartan. He had oversaw some of the styles of combat that were being taught to them and was pleasantly surprised how they quickly took into it. They were being pushed to their limits while not bringing them to the point of exhaustion as they still had duties to attend to after they were done.

The spartan was absolutely unforgiving when he was instructing them, always pointing out mistakes but a the same time showing them how to improve and correct their mistakes. He walked into the room and shut it quietly behind him, giving a small sigh of relief he sat himself down in the chair as he leaned his head back. The hardened wood doing wonders on his aching body as he relished the small respite from duty.

He found himself thinking of how things would have turned out if Brandon had lived and been lord of Winterfell, a thought he did not recite very often. But as always, he would find himself once again agreeing that thinking on what ifs would not be good for him. He had a wife, five northern children and of course Jon. He opened his eyes as he thought of his bastard son, it pained him greatly that Catelyn hated the very presence of him. But he could not risk telling her the truth of his birth, if someone had overheard or gods forbid that Cat would tell someone. Robert may very well wage war on the brother who went to war for him, twice. All because the woman he loved.. did not love him back and instead fell in love with a silver haired prince.

He loved Robert as if he was blood himself. But he could not overlook the fact that he went to war for the murder of his father and brother, the mad king had already begun to start uprisings with his cruelty. But the deaths of his blood had effectively jump started it. Then, after the death of Rhaegar when he had went to Dorne for his sister. Did he discover the lie that Robert had spewed about her being kidnapped. It was because of that lie that led to his sisters death when she lost her life from childbirth and a broken heart. He stood up to collect himself from the dark thoughts, grunting to himself he made a vow to himself that if and when Jon decides to join the Nights Watch. He would tell him the truth once had said the words and pledged himself into service, that way no one would be able to touch him.

An abrupt knock on his door shook him from his thoughts as he opened the door, it was one of the guards. Jameon if he recalled,"Dinner is ready, my lord. Lady Catelyn and the rest await you in the great hall."

Ned nodded in thanks before making his way there, the walk there was uneventful as most of the small folk were heading back into their homes. The guards posted outside the door opened and he could see his family already at the high table, his sons smiling at his arrival. He was greeted by his wife as he seated himself on the center chair.

"Hello, my love. I trust today wasn't as stressful as most?" Catelyn inquired.

Ned chuckled, "Aye, it was a rather smooth day but as always a few bumps are always present." He looked to his children giving them welcoming smiles as they returned them, the spread before them smelled absolutely delicious. Venison stew with potatoes and carrots, slices of bread with melted butter on top, lemon cakes, and of course the kidney pies with peas and onions that Old Nan was famous for. He was about to dig in with his family when he noticed the seat left ajar at the far end next to Jon, the spartan was not present.

"Where is the Spartan?" Ned asked his family, all in attendance looking to each other to see if they knew.

"Perhaps he is still training the guards?" Robb threw in.

Jon shook his head at that, "When he was sparring with me, he had finished with them for the day." He said quietly as he avoided the gaze of Lady Stark once more.

Theon scoffed at that, "And why would the spartan waste his time on sparring with someone like you, Snow?" He sneered, Ned gave a glare in the wards direction effectively silencing him.

Robb paid the insult no mind as he too chipped in, "Well, how was it? Don't keep it all to yourself, Jon. Tell us how he fought!" Robb seemed excitedly curious as he drank heavily from his mug. Jon seemed to have all eyes on him as he stared at the table.

Finally he found his voice, "It was very quick, the spar I mean. I was striking the dummy; practicing my form. When he stumbled upon me, told me to attack him to release my tension. Truly I tell you, that I have never seen anyone move that fast. EVER. He didn't attack me with any weapon at all, only his fists and he was able to disarm me more than once. It was if he had vanished into the air when he moved." Jon spoke as everyone listened close. Robb looked on with eyes wide, Sansa looked curious, Arya was in awe along with Bran, Theon only scowled at him. Jon continued, "But he was never boastful when he defeated me, he showed me what I was doing wrong and that I should never expect my enemy to always be armed. It wasn't until I fought him did his words prove true as he is very dangerous even without a weapon."

"So he has some honor in him, that's relieving to hear." Robb said as he returned to his mug.

Ned turned to his oldest son, "He has not given me any reason to distrust him, he has been a very valuable ally since pledging himself to us." He reminded his son.

Sansa seemed unsure but schooled her features to be more lady like, "He was very kind to me this morning, but I can't help but feel a bit sorry for him. He doesn't have any family left.. he's the last of his people."

Bran raised his head to pitched in as well, "He said that his people were great warriors, but they all died anyway. What do you think killed them?"

Ned took a breathe in as Catelyn gripped his hand, they both knew of course as they had been shown when he arrived. Demons from the seven hells were what he fought... and lost against. Looking to his children, his voice was firm, "None of you will ask the spartan of the troubles he has been through. A soldier does not wish to think of the lives he's taken or the ones he's lost. I would not have my blood cause him any unwanted pain if it can be spared, understood?" They all mumbled an apology and agreed with their father.

Just then a door opened and in came the man they had been speaking of, dressed in the same clothes he had seen him in that morning. Minus the fur cloak.

The spartan gave a small nod of his head in his direction as he closed in on the table, "Apologies, Lord Stark. I was helping Mikken at the forge with my weapon, unfortunately it took more time than I anticipated. It will not happen again, I assure you." Ned saw a few marks of soot on the mans arms, the rest looked to have been washed off as he took his seat.

Ned waved his hand dismissively, "There's nothing to forgive, how is the work coming along?"

Six looked to him as he adjusted himself in the wooden chair, "The progress is coming along smoothly, I estimate a few more days and it will be ready."

Ned nodded as he motioned for everyone to start eating, the stew nice and warm as he dug into the gamey meat. Humming in satisfaction. "I must thank you for the meat, it is most delicious."

Six swallowed his mouthful before responding, "It is no problem, it was good to be myself for a few hours in the woods."

"I've heard the guards haven't been giving you any trouble, have they?"

Six shook his head, "No, Lord Stark. They are taking to the routine very fast. I must say I am beginning to be impressed with them, but still they have a long road ahead of them before I am fully satisfied. But... there is one problem I have uncovered with almost all of them."

Ned raised his eyebrow at that, "What is that?"

"They lack the ability to read and write. It is absolutely essential I remedy that immediately." Six responded as the rest of the table stopped eating. Some of them looking at the spartan as if he had grown a second head.

Ned turned to face him fully, "Why is that, Spartan? I mean no offense if I have given it, but mostly only those who have been of noble birth are given a formal education."

Six gave a slow sigh as he set his utensil down, "How can I trust a man to send a message of incoming danger, if he does not know how to write. How do I trust a man that does not know how to read to give instructions if I am not present. You see, Lord Stark? It is not to undermine authority, it is to bring the person a better chance at becoming a more dangerous foe. If he has these things, he can outwit the man across from him."

The more Ned listened to him, the more he saw his point and he couldn't disagree with them. Only, there was one problem with that. "I agree with you, Spartan and a man should have the right to education such as that. At the very least. Only, there is but a few in the keep that know how to give lessons on that subject. Maester Luwin and Septa Mordane are already more than occupied with teaching my children and handling household affairs. I fear they would not have time for this."

Six looked away for a moment in thought, "The guards are given specific resting days at the end of the week, perhaps then when your children are not in their lessons. The Maester could provide no more than two hours of lessons, I will help as well if need be."

Ned mulled it over in his head as it was true, the children did not have lessons on certain days as well. Maester Luwin was mostly in his library as well on those days and with the Spartan willing to lend a hand it could only help matters. Ned returned to look at the man, "I will speak with Maester Luwin on the morrow and discuss it with him, I cannot make any promises until I speak with him."

He saw the spartan nod his head in satisfaction before returning to his meal, the rest of dinner went on without a beat. Mostly everyone enjoying the food, Sansa conversed with her mother about her sewing. Robb and Theon discussing their next sparring lesson. Bran and Arya bickering about who was the better archer of the two. But it was Jon that caught his eye, he appeared in deep conversation with the spartan. More than once he saw a ghost of a smile on his son, which was more than he could say he'd seen in months. Whatever possible friendship that could happen between the two... he was happy that Jon had someone that treated him like a human. Regardless of his status.

A/N: What is goin' on ladies and gents, now I know its been well past eight months since my last update. But, I have been very busy to say the least. I shipped off to basic training in October and didn't get a chance to start writing until I graduated in February. And only just last week have I been able to start writing full time now that I have access to a computer whenever I need it. I hope you all enjoy and expect much more where this is coming from.

Also, writing some of these characters can be very challenging for me. So any constructive criticism is always welcome, I am always open for ways to improve this story. I wish you all well.

Deuces