ARRIVAL

Loredas, the 19th of Frost Fall, 201st year of the 4E


The visitors poured through the portcullis of Winterfell's central gate in a river of gold and silver, of polished steel and refined iron lined with animal fur, five hundred strong, a wave of both men and women, of men-at-arms, and mounted archers and crossbowmen, of heralds and grooms, cooks and serving men and musicians, even a juggler, all aglitter in their surcoats, in the attendance of their lord as they drove forth behind a great, double-decked carriage of some unknown copper-gold metal, pulled by nine heavy draft horses, and heavily laden with their armor, tents, and provisions, while overhead he could see a dozen of their banners, of which seemed to come in half a hundred colors, whipping back and forth in the northern wind, chief among them a golden and scarlet ruby emblazoned on maroon.

Ned recognized not a single one of the riders, nor the banners that they carried. Yet still, with but a glance he knew that only the man at the head of the column could have been their leader: he was a young, tall, strikingly handsome lordling of about twenty one years, with the skin of a man from the Summer Isles, near black as pitch, that had dressed in all black silks, with high black boots, a gold and violet satin cloak, and was closely flanked by two other figures who seemed to serve as his guards, both armored in steel as dark as smoke that appeared to swallow the light from the sun high in the sky as they moved to shadow their leader…

Or their captive… Ned thought solemnly as they watched him dismount. He had long since grown up with the knowledge that many of the ancient houses of the north, and several of the southern houses—though remarkably fewer—those that had contained too many heirs, would sometimes—though somewhat rarely unless you were unlucky enough to be born a bastard—send the youngest of their sons northward in the hopes of dawning a black cloak and becoming a sworn brother of the Night's Watch, aspiring to rise high up on the Wall, either gaining their families great honor in their service to the realm, or bringing down great shame upon them, as it was customary that a sworn man's debts were forgiven, and their crimes washed away, as opposed to them losing a hand or being executed for their offenses. Or mayhaps he's simply an exile prince on tour of the world.

As the rest of what seemed to be the whole of the lordling's household had rode past to emerge through the gate behind him, Ned kicked his horse forward from amidst the men of the Stark household, fifty in all, and rode forth from the courtyard to meet them, behind him rode Jory Cassel, the captain of his household guard, then next came the master-at-arms, old Ser Rodrik Cassel and beside him, his ward, Theon Greyjoy, his black doublet emblazoned with the golden kraken of his House

As they neared, the lordling and his guards spurred their mounts forward, though they then fall back a small distance, safely out of earshot, as he and his party reined up abruptly before the lordling, and Ned greeted him coldly. "Might I ask the reason for this sudden visit, Lord…?"

"My name is Azzias Stormcrown, a king from a very distant land on tour of this side of the world, though you may refer to me as dovahkiin, if it pleases you, as I would never expect a nobleman to refer to another as king while he is yet still merely a foreigner in the lands of his neighbor's, regardless of his legitimacy," Azzias said, dipping his head slightly. "And I must cry your pardon for the sudden intrusion, my lord, but I would beg for me and mine to be allowed to rest amongst your hall and hearth for but a time, as my kingdom and homeland is. . . quite far to the west, and beyond the sea, and although I have left my kingdom…in good hands and shall return when it pleases me, for now I would seek shelter and hospitality so that many of my household are able to send letter of their well-being back to their families. So I must ask, would I be right in assuming that will I receive it here?"

Ned sat frozen, weighing the man's words long and carefully with his eyes, as a sudden silence descended over his party. His men looked at each other unknowing and in disbelief, no one yet daring to speak. It was widely known throughout Westeros, as well as rest of the know world, in the lands east of the Narrow sea, that no one had ever crossed the Sunset Sea to learn and explored what lay on the other side.

"I did not know a land yet lay west of Westeros," he regarded the man's words thoughtfully, his voice breaking the spell as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Yet still, stranger things have happened. It was then that he remembered the dead mother direwolf laying in the snow, an antler broken in it's throat. That brought a bitter twist to Ned's mouth and he frowned, sighing, though he nodded his head with a low sigh. "…Very well then, if a king you are, then it is only right that you receive a lord's courtesy, your grace…by my word, I, the lord Eddard of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, shall grant you and your men the freedom to come and go within Winterfell as you see fit, and to be treated with respect and hospitality. However, in the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, I do sentence you to keep the kings peace. Should you, or yours, harm or cause mischief to my people, you and all those who shared in your crimes, will be named enemies of the crown and by the kings justice will be sought out to answer for your transgression."

Azzias bowed his, "Thank you, lord Eddard, me and mine forever are in you debt," he then swung his horse around and galloped back to his men. They watched gave the command for his men to dismount, no sooner had the order been given, his men vaulting off the backs of their horses, as the grooms of Winterfell came forward for their mounts.