Sorry for the long wait, would have been an hour sooner but my computer did an auto update while I was away before I posted the chapter. So had to completely rewrite my chapter notes.As for trigger warnings...Caitlyn being a Karen and some cannon typical things like violence, mentions of violence, and languageEnjoy...
(See the end of the chapter formore notes.)
Chapter Text(North – Winterfell)
Daenerys wandered the keep, her sworn protectors at her heel. Jorah had lightened considerably since being welcomed home by his countrymen and kinsmen. There had been a private affair where he renewed his oaths as a member of House Mormont to his liege lord, Eddard Stark had charged him with Daenerys safety, her life was now tied to his, if harm came to her, the next Northman that Jorah crossed paths with would be his executioner. Drogo on the other hand had become far more taciturn since the melee in the training yard, pushing both his own men and any who would cross blades with him to their or his physical limit, most days one of his bloodriders would need to take his place.
Today though, he was needed at a meeting of the assembled lords. King Robert had been secluding himself the past few days, only seeing his children and kingsguard, and meeting with Lord Stark. The King had appointed Aerys Oakheart to be Daenerys's shadow. Entering the great hall with her three guards, she noticed she was among the first to arrive.
"Ah, princess, good you have arrived," Winterfell's maester moved to greet her, "we have yet to have the chance to meet." I am Maester Luwin, I have the distinct honor to serve House Stark."
"Maester Luwin," Daenerys greeted, "I hear you managed to save the former queen's son from a snake bite no one else has ever survived."
Luwin smiled benignly, "No one on record, but our friends in the Neck keep their secrets close. You and Prince Aegon will be sitting next to King Robert at the head table, to his left, and Lord Stark will be on his right. As well Lord Tywin and his son Tyrion who has accepted the position of Master of Coin on behalf of House Lannister." The Maester looked to her shadows, "Lord Jorah, you should sit with your aunt and her daughters. Ser Aerys, your Lord Commander wished me to inform you to take a post at the main door."
Aerys nodded, "Thank you for passing along Ser Selmy's command."
They watched the kingsguard move off before the maester focused on Drogo before speaking in Dothraki, "Khal Drogo, you will be seated at the head table as well, as befits an honored guest of House Stark." Daenerys giggled at Drogo's shocked expression, finding a Westrosi other than Jorah who could speak his tongue. The maester continued, "I'll serve as your translator, a few of my brothers from the Citadel have accompanied their lords here and have offered to see to recording the proceeding in my stead."
Jorah frowned, "Maester Luwin, I can see you have the chain link for languages, but why would you learn Dothraki?"
"It was one of my first links, as a young man I dreamed of journeying to Essos and studying the ancient mysteries," Luwin sighed, "but as I grew older such dreams faded. The Dothraki language has served me well over the years, it has several similarities to the Old Tongue, at least its spoken variant. I do believe they share a similar origin. The Dothraki may very well be a very distant offshoot of the same people who became the First Men."
"Begs the question then," Jorah looked to where Eddard was speaking with Lords Karstark and Umber, "Who is higher ranked, a magnar or a khal?"
"Magnar?" Daenerys frowned at the unfamiliar word.
Luwin looked to her, "Old Tongue, there is no exact equivalent term in the common tongue, but from what the Citadel knows, the magnars of old would be equivalent to kings. The Stark in Winterfell was once known as the Magnar of Winter. As common became more prevalent in the North, they became known as the King of Winter, so in most histories, the various magnars of old were changed to kings."
Daenerys looked to Jorah, "Did the Starks not give up that title upon bending the knee to the Conqueror?"
"Depend on whom you ask," Jorah sighed, "they gave up their crown that is for certain, and swore fealty to Aegon the Conqueror. Yet, there was no battle, Torrhen was never defeated in combat by Aegon. He gave up his crown to save his people from suffering as other those in the south did. To protect them from those Targaryen dragons. No Stark has ever been defeated by a true Targaryen in honorable combat."
Daenerys grimaced, as she thought of her father murdering Rickard and Brandon in what had been described to her by both Jorah and the Martells as a farce of a trial by combat. Lord Stark did not hold her responsible for the crimes of her family, for even Rhaegar's actions with Lyanna were less than honorable as he and his wife had plotted without giving the rest of House Stark the decency to speak with them.
"Princess," Looking up she saw Lord Stark approaching, "you'll be needing to represent your house, your nephews are preparing to depart Winterfell with Prince Oberyn and a few others to hunt a deserter recruit from the Night's Watch."
"A deserter recruits. Is that not something anyone else could take care of?" Daenerys frowned as she noticed the stern look on Lord Stark's face, "Who is this deserter that demands the attention of my nephews so?"
Eddard cleared his throat before speaking, "Armory Lorch, the man who butchered their elder sister Rhaenys. Lord Tywin had sent him to the Wall some moons ago. He'd yet to take his vows though and was being held in a cell at the Shadow Tower until he would. He was not sent as a criminal, but a forced volunteer of sorts, but taking the vow would have been viewed as an admission of his guilt, and absolution of his crimes. Without the sentence of a criminal, the commander of the Shadow Tower nor the Lord Commander of the Watch could force him to take the vow, he would have to do it of his own accord."
The memory of Viserys teaching her the fate of their dead family members went through her mind. Poor little Rhaenys was stabbed so many times she was barely recognizable beneath all the blood. The thought that the man who could do such a horrible thing to an innocent child still lived sickened her, "Will he still be given the chance to take his vow?"
Eddard crossed his arms, "No, he has proven himself to lack honor and to be a craven. I have told them to bring him to me to pass the sentence upon. I will not even give such a man the honor of my ancestral blade, I've asked my blacksmith to find me an old iron great sword."
Jorah grimaced, "I'm sure he still has the sword you were planning to use on me."
"You were a slaver Jorah," Eddard glared, "you know our ways in that regard."
The former exile rubbed his neck, "Aye, hanging from a heart tree, I always assumed you'd be more merciful than the old ways."
(North – Winter Town)
Osha calmly approached the Winterfell guards patrolling the town. She recognized one from the vision, he would have been killed among others when the Bolton Bastard showed his true colors. He and his men immediately went for their weapons upon seeing her group. She shook her head when one of her men went for his own sword, "We mean no harm. The magnar still here?"
"Lord Stark is at Winterfell, along with the southern king," the guard glared, "what business do the likes of you have here?"
"My spear," Osha beat the blunt end of her spear on the dirt path, "and their swords are his if he will have them."
The guard relaxed, but his men remained prepared for a fight, "Why would Lord Stark have need of wildlings? You are not even worth his time."
Osha knew the guard was trying to provoke a fight, in that other time, he would always make snide and crude remarks. Luckily he never did more than talk, though words could be just as dangerous as a knife. Osha was quick to hold back her men, sending a dark glare to the guard, "You would turn away those who come to your liege lord without even speaking with him first? What would he say when he learns of your dishonor?"
The man glared back just as darkly, and looked ready to strike, "What is going on here?" Everyone turned, and the guard immediately identified the newcomer, "Ser Rodrik, these wildlings were brazened enough to approach us, claiming they come to swear themselves to Lord Stark."
Cassel frowned at the group, "Is that so, the Long Night comes, we could have use for swords and spears. I'll see to them from here, you lot get back to patrolling." He then leveled a stony glare at the guards, "and next time you think to overstep yourself, I'll have you face the gauntlet in the yard."
The guard swallowed hard, "Pardon, I didn't mean to."
Rodrik waved the man off, "Lord Stark won't hear about this from me, but any more of your mouth going off before your brains, and he'll be the least of your worries." Once the guards had moved on, Rodrik motioned for the free folk to follow him, "Lord Stark figured Rayder would send some emissaries."
Osha frowned, "We are not from Rayder, we came over the wall of our own accord."
"Considering what's on the other side, I would like to keep the Wall between my kinfolk and the horrors beyond as well." Rodrik led them through the gate, "Lord Stark is a busy man these days," he motioned a couple of guards over, "these two will show you where you can store your belongings and get a hot meal, a bath, and a bunk. In that order." Cassel then stroked his beard, "I'll speak with Lord Stark about your requests, and he'll meet with you when he can."
"We thank you for your hospitality, though guest rights haven't yet been extended," Osha noticed the knight nod in understanding, "I'll keep mine in line if you keep yours."
Rodrik nodded, "We have no women guards, you and the other woman will be taken to the servants' quarters, and the men will be taken to the guard house. No chains or locked doors, but please be mindful there are more who will view you as less for the place of your origins than recognize you as people. Word of the Long Night is slow to spread, most are fearful of its coming and hope by ignoring it, it will go away."
Osha watched the old knight depart before following the guards toward the keep. As they neared the blacksmith, Mikken stepped out, "Leave your weapons with me, I'll see them safe and give them a once over."
Her group was hesitant, but Osha stepped forwards and handed the old man her spear, "I have nine hounds that need a kennel, they are aggressive though."
Mikken snorted, "The Lady will see to them."
"The Lady?" Osha frowned, "who is that?"
Mikken pointed across the yard, and she was surprised none of them had noticed the fully grown dire wolf sitting at the door she knew led to the great hall. The blacksmith chuckled, "Lord Stark found her one night after a vision from the Old Gods. She bore a litter of pups, one for each of true-born children and one for his nephew Jon. She is named Lyanna, in honor of Lord Stark's late sister, but most of us just call her The Lady. Those hounds of yours will learn their place right quick, might one or two of them be made an example of."
Osha nodded, placing her fingers to her lips she gave a harsh whistle. The former hounds of Ramsay Snow came bounding into the yard, darting around people to reach Osha. Yet they each skittered to a sudden halt. The Lady had moved as well, and the fierce eyes of a predator glared down at the much smaller canines. Osha was surprised when one by one the bitches lowered themselves, the younger ones even rolling to expose their bellies in a sign of submission.
Two more dire wolves appeared in the yard, one Osha recognized as Grey Wind, and the other one was white and red-eyed, and could only belong to Jon Snow. The wolves' humans appeared shortly, with Robb Stark calling out, "Who's hounds are these?"
Osha stepped forward, "Beg to pardon my lord, they're mine. I don't trust them to be out of sight long, was hoping your kennel master had room for them."
Robb narrowed his eyes at her apparel, "A wildling…err sorry you are of the free folk. I did not know your people had hunting hounds like these north of the wall."
"We don't," Osha smirked, "found them on our way south. Some lordlings must have lost them."
Robb knelt and grabbed the jaw of one of the hounds, it growled, but the growl turned to a whimper at a harrumph from Grey Wind. Robb examined the hound's ears and lips, obviously looking for something, finally finding it under the fur beneath the hound's collar, "House Bolton's mark."
Jon frowned, "Dread Fort is to the south of us, how'd these hounds find their way so far north."
"I can answer that my lords," they all turned to find Roose Bolton had ridden through the gate, "my illegitimate son Ramsay and his caretakers were afield some weeks ago. They had not returned and my party just came from dealing with the aftermath of a horrible scene. Ramsay was always far too ambitious for his own good. He thought to bring down Hurlock, I forbade him such stupidity and denied him to take any of my men or hounds. I learned my kennel master had been giving him the runts from my prized hounds."
"Who or what is Hurlock?" one of Osha's men asked curiously.
Jon answered, "A legend of sorts. Hurlock is said to be a massive bear that roams the wolf's wood. The legend goes that Hurlock was once a man, but he blasphemed against the Old Gods so they cursed him with the form of a beast. It is said he is unkillable, that even if his body is destroyed, he will simply rise again in a new one, and will seek his revenge on those who dared to try and strike him down."
Robb looked to Roose, "You are saying Ramsay fought Hurlock?"
"Doubtful," Roose grimaced, "I never put much stock in that old legend. What is more likely is Ramsay allowed his predilections to get the better of him. Tried having his way with some poor girl and her kinfolk met out justice in the old way. He and his men were around a wild heart tree out in the woods, or at least what was left of them. Wild animals had gotten to the bodies before we found them, impossible to see how they died."
"Sorry for your loss," Robb sighed, "do you need help recovering the remains?"
Roose shook his head, "I have men collecting what we could find and returned them to the Dread Fort. I was delayed in responding to Lord Stark's summons as it was." He looked to Osha, "I do not need these hounds, if the wildling wants them she can have them."
Jon looked to Mikken, "Have Farlen see to them," he then turned to Robb, "we should get going the others will have the horses saddled by now."
A curious look came to Roose's face, "You are leaving my young lord?"
Robb nodded, "Father can explain but there is a man who needs to be brought to Winterfell. He is somewhere in the woods south of Deepwood Motte. We will only be gone a few days, pardon, but our party is awaiting us."
Osha frowned at this, much at Winterfell was different than what had occurred in her vision.
(North – Winterfell Great Hall)
Robert patted Daenerys shoulder in reassurance as he took his seat, "Well, we should not delay any longer, we have much to see to. So, I officially call the council to order, I've been advised not to call it a great council, as we're are short a few lords." A chuckle came from those seated around the tables, "Now, down to business, Lord Hand."
Eddard stood, "Your grace, Winterfell is preparing for the long night, I have sent word to Lord Stannis to send as much dragon glass north as he can. I received a reply that House Tyrell has already been gathering and preparing shipments of the material for several months. Shadow Tower has reported delivery of dragon glass and dragon glass weapons."
"Good," Robert sighed, "I want every keep between the Wall and the Neck to be supplied with those weapons as well. As for the Neck," the King turned to Lord Howland Reed, "Lord Reed, I'm sure I don't have to tell you, but the Neck is our final line of defense. If your swamp falls to the dead, we'll all be joining the Other's army of walking corpses."
Lord Reed stood, Great Jon and Jojen helping him, "I assure your grace, we are well aware of our place. Greywater Watch and the houses sworn to me are preparing, but it will be our women and children, and any survivors who flee from the North."
"Flee," Great Jon scoffed, "You frog eaters just sit back and watch us true Northmen stamp out these boogiemen."
"Great Jon," Eddard glared, and the man was quick to silence. The Lord of Winterfell looked to Tyrion, "Master of Coin, what say you on the state of the realm?"
Tyrion stood up and moved around to the front of the table to be seen by all, "Well Lord Hand, if the copies of my predecessor's accountings are correct," The imp sighed, "Well financially we're fucked. Several loans from the Iron Bank are past due and two of which were in all actuality loans taken out to pay towards earlier loans. Thankfully the Night's Watch gets paid in swords, manpower, and grain otherwise we'd have no defenses." He indicated Khal Drogo, "The Dothraki are volunteering their services, so we can probably pay them with food and horses. We will not have the financial capabilities to hire sellsword companies, problematic as the Iron Bank will no doubt be hiring them to invade Westeros to recoup their losses."
Tywin stood up, "Your grace, Lord Hand," he looked to Tyrion, "Master of Coin, House Lannister will see to dealing with the Iron Bank. There are several outstanding debts owed to my house from various nobles among the free cities. I'll call them in, that should be able to cover some of the debts."
Eddard nodded, "I can assuage some of the pressure," he looked to Lord Manderly, "Recall the Company of the Rose, tell them it is time to come home." The Lord of White Harbor nodded his understanding as Ned folded his hands together, "Lord Bolton,"
Roose stood up, "My lord."
"Go to Bravos," Eddard sighed, "call in all of our accounts."
Bolton smirked, "They're not going to appreciate that."
"What?" Robert lowered his voice, "Ned, what in the name of the seven are you going on about?"
Maester Luwin cleared his throat, "Your grace, following the conquest, the Lords of the North collected their wealth and sent it with the Company of the Rose to Essos. It was placed in trust to the Iron Bank."
Robert sputtered, "Your ancestors did this right under the nose of the dragons?"
"King Aegon and his sisters were aware," Ned responded, "but like many things, all knowledge of this was lost in the South following the Dance. Cregan had no compunction in reminding the crown, not after seeing the mess left in the wake of Otto Hightower's ambitions. Aegon had warned Torrhen that a day would come when the North would have to be prepared to defend the realm."
Tyrion sighed, "Wonder if he thought that would include saving us from the machinations of an egotistical little lord who thought himself smarter than anyone else who played the game." Tyrion looked around at the silent faces around him, "What not even a chuckle, the irony of me of all people calling Balish little should have at the least earned a clearing of the throat."
(North – Winterfell Godwoods)
Leyton Hightower stood before the heart tree, "The words are easy, the act itself is hard." The Reach lord sighed before pulling off the cloak he wore revealing he was only clothed in breeches. He knelt before the pool of dark water before the heart tree's carved face, "Gods of Earth and Tree, gods of sky and water, gods of fire and ice. I Leyton Hightower, the blood of your sworn children harken you to hear my words." He dipped his hands into the dark water and cupping his hands lifted them fully and held them towards the tree, "I seek forgiveness for those of my blood, to atone for the blood we have spilled. For the Children of the Forest, we slaughtered in the name of the Seven who are One. For those who suffered in the wake of the ambitions of my kin. For the breaking our oaths and turning our backs upon you."
Bringing the water to his lips he drank it all. Having drank the water he lowered his head so his brow rested upon the mossy ground, "Please gods of old, gods of the nameless multitude, please send your humble servant a sign."
Feeling as though he was not alone, Leyton raised his head. Standing before him was a creature he'd thought only a myth. A Child of the Forest stood before him, looking at him quizzically. She reached out a four-fingered hand and rested it on his cheek, her voice came in broken common, "To gain their forgiveness, takes more than words." The creature tilted her head and blinked slowly, "Actions speak louder than words, Leyton of the Hightower."
(North – Winterfell's Walls)
Ashara remained where she'd watched Oberyn depart at the head of a column of boys sent to arrest a man. A man who was loathsome enough to butcher an innocent child, a girl who'd done nothing wrong save being born into House Targaryen. Lorch would find no pity from her when he was brought before Ned on his knees begging for mercy. She would relish the sight of the man's head being departed from his body.
"My lady," Ash turned to see Ned walking along the wall towards her, "you do not need to be concerned. Aegon and Edric ride with Robb and Jon, they know the North as any young man who has lived here from their first steps. They know the woods, the rills, and the barrows they have ridden them and they have camped upon the summer snows. Like any son of the North, they have also hunted those lands. No man can compare to the beasts they have faced."
"Lorch is no man my lord," Ashara corrected, "he is a beast that wears the skin of one, is he not the more dangerous quarry?"
Ned snorted, "Then it is good they travel with two dire wolves. Lorch will also find those lads are more formidable than a scared little girl hiding under her father's bed." Ned took a step closer, "We have not had time to speak of Edric, my visions did not reveal that secret."
"What would it matter to the gods that you knew the truth of another son?" Ash bowed her head, "My vision showed you sending him and Berric after the Mountain when the Westerlands began raiding the Riverlands. I watched as they were ambushed by the Mountain's men. You nearly sent your son to his death, not even realizing it. He survived the battle, but he was changed. He followed the reanimated Berric for a time until the being passed its gift of life after death to the corpse of your lady wife."
"I was not given much detail in that regard," Ned sighed, "the ravens did not feel my reanimated wife's murderous rampage of vengeance was relevant to combatting the Others or unifying the realm against them."
"Edric was of similar thought," Ash smirked, "he could not stomach the butchery of women and children who had no hand in the murder of Robb or the others at the Red Wedding. He and others like him broke from the company of Lady Stoneheart. They wondered for a time, to do what they could for the people. When the Long Night began he returned to Dorne to find Aegon had taken Starfall. Edric tried to convince Aegon to focus on the approaching legion of the dead, but Aegon still refused to see the reason. He gave Edric eight hundred men to hold the Prince's Pass. Edric recruited the refugees to bolster his numbers, but they were few and in poor condition. His defensive force held for eight minutes, and when Edric's eyes opened again in that nightmarish bright blue. The bloodline of Starks was truly ended."
Ned frowned, the thought that even not knowing his true heritage, Edric had tried to fulfill the duty placed upon the Starks for the past eight thousand years. To defend mankind against the return of the true enemy. He realized that some part of Bran must have remained with the Three-Eyed Raven, a part that was jealous and hurt on behalf of his mother that Ned had sullied their marriage vows. "Did you speak with Edric in that other world?"
Ashara resignedly bowed her head, "No, I was too craven, I feared what Aegon would do to him if he learned he was your son. Jon Connington had corrupted Aegon's mind concerning you and your house, I was not strong enough there to stand against him. I believe that is why he turned his back on his brother, abandoning him to die alone against the dead."
That Connington would cause such enmity between two siblings. He'd seen how Aegon and Jon had swiftly opened up to each other. He'd have to thank Great Jon for the suggestion to send the lads down to the hot spring. There was a brotherhood forming among them all, they would need that in the dark days to come. He'd learned from Old Nan that Lady Maege had similarly sent the young ladies down as well. In the water of those springs, the truth wills out. He'd long wondered if some Old God had blessed the waters to cleanse deceit from those who spent time together there.
Ned's thoughts were broken as he noticed his lady-wife approach. Caitlyn grimaced when she noticed him but then glared at Ashara, "Lady Dayne, may I have a word." Ned felt something was off, he'd heard from Tywin of her losing composure and striking Cersei. He hadn't had the opportunity to speak with her on that matter, "It will not take long, just a moment in private."
Ashara shared a look with him before stepping towards Cat, "I can assume the subject of this talk. Know that if you are going to accuse me or my son of having designs on the claims of your children. I will have you remember my son is the heir of Starfall and will claim his title as lord when his father deems him ready. As is the custom in Dorne with inheritances of this complexity."
"Complexity?" Cat frowned, "What is complex? Your bastard is being legitimized to inherit instead of the legitimate inheritors in High Hermitage."
"Oh, by the Old Gods are you a dense little fish, do not try and understand the politics of Dorne." Ashara glared, "The Darkstar is as much a bastard as my son. My cousin had no legitimate sons and his heir is his only surviving bastard, legitimized when he was very young. Technically Edric was legitimized first though, as my brother claimed him as a Dayne."
"It wasn't a legal legitimization," Cat argued, "Ned did not agree to it, and the child is his by right."
Ashara smirked, "That we can agree on, but that only counts to lands north of Dorne. In my homeland, the legitimization was legal because I did not contest my brother taking my son. The benefit of living in a land where women have equal inheritance rights to men." Ashara loomed over Cat, "The only reason Doran had to reveal this whole affair was to salvage the honor of my house. My brother admitted to stealing my son and denying him the truth about his real father. Doran did this for the love he holds for me and my kin, he did not trust Robert to not strip Edric of his titles if it came out later."
Cat glared, "Then he does not know King Robert well. The man would do anything to appease Ned, he even had Ser Barristan take Lyanna's bastard as a squire."
Ned saw red, but it was not his hand that struck Caitlyn. Ashara was glowering her hand poised to swing back to strike the other woman again. Caitlyn snarled, "How dare you? You are a guest in my home."
"Cat," Ned glared, his wife remembering he was present and taking stock of exactly what she had said, "You have no room to condemn. You have already infringed upon guest rights. You struck Lady Cersei, a prisoner in my custody." He saw Ashara lower her hand and step away from his wife, "I believe it was good I was present for this less-than-pleasant conversation." He looked over his shoulder, "Holt, Corvis come up here." Two guards swiftly ran up to the top of the wall. Once they were standing before him Ned pointed to Caitlyn, "My wife is to be confined to her quarters until I say otherwise. The children may visit her there but they are to be accompanied by one of my trusted banners or a member of the household who is a Northerner. Anything she writes or tells to a servant is to be reported to me immediately. Meals will be delivered to her by Hodor. Are my orders understood?"
Corvis, an older guard who'd grown up with Ned's elder brother nodded, "Yes Lord Stark, heard and understood." Holt was younger, no more than three years older than Robb and Jon, and showed his youth by hesitatingly following his elder's example.
Caitlyn sent a murderous look towards Ashara before looking to Ned, "You take the side of this, this deceitful whore. She faked her death, who knows how many men she has lain within the years she's been running wild across Essos. You know how the Dornish are, just look at the number of bastards following in the wake of Prince Oberyn."
Ned stepped forward and grabbed Cat by the upper arm, "What has gotten into you Cat? You insult those I have given guest rights to under my roof. You disparage the name of my late sister. You have raised your hand against a prisoner of noble birth under my charge. Now you have tried to manufacture some mummer's farce to make it appear as if Lady Dayne has broken guest rights." As his wife opened her mouth to counter the last point, he squeezed his hold to stop her, "Do not try and deny it Cat, you instigated the conversation, Ash only guessed at your intentions and insured it occurred in a public space."
"I would also like to say I am offended," Ashara crossed her arms, "I am no whore. I have only lain with one man, though it felt like two considering he was like a different person on our second encounter." Ashara looked, "I blame the deaths of his father and brother and being forced to marry a trout."
Cat snapped back, "You lying harlot, you seduced my betrothed at Harenhall."
"No," Ned glared, "she didn't. Brandon wanted to and claimed that he had, but the woman he laid with was a commoner named Lemore. It was I who took Ash's maidenhead after we promised ourselves to each other in the way of the First Men. She still has the pins we used to signify the promise, and I can point you to three of my banners who stood in witness."
This seemed to strike Caitlyn silent, "I, but you never said."
"What was there to say?" Ned snarled, "Aerys wanted my head on a fucking pike next to those of my father and brother. At the time I knew not what had befallen my sister, no thanks to that slimy piece of shit you called a childhood friend. The same one who claimed to all who'd listen that he'd taken your maidenhead." Cat looked aghast at this revelation; she knew Peter had been infatuated with her. Before she could speak Ned continued, "Do you think I had much of a choice Cat, I needed your father's loyalty to bring my army south. Your father is so absorbed by his ambitions that he would not be swayed in having you be the Lady of Winterfell. He could care less whether it was Brandon, me, or even Benjen. As long as his blood joined with that of House Stark, too bad I put an end to his dreams of gaining a foothold for the Seven in the North."
Caitlyn shook her head, "What do you mean?"
"He expected you to convert Ned to the Seven," Ashara explained, "you were to finish what Jon Arryn had begun. Their original goal was to have Ned converted while in the Vale, he would return to the North to support your Septon, Septa, and yourself in converting your betrothed, Winterfell, and then the rest of the North. The plan was doomed to failure from the start though, and Jon Arryn realized it early during Ned's time with him. To the point, Lord Arryn restored the godswood of all House Arryn seats, so that his ward had a place for his observances. The same reason Ned gave you that sept by Winterfell's library."
A shocked expression came to Caitlyn's face, "I, I never knew of such a plan."
Ned sighed, "You didn't need to be aware of the plan, Maester Luwin's predecessor would have informed you upon your arrival." Ned grimaced at the memory of Maester Walys, the man was terrified when Eddard had returned to Winterfell, and for good reason. He'd returned without warning to find the Mad Maester whispering venomous words to Benjen, telling him that their losses had been a punishment from the gods for blasphemy of following the Old Gods. He'd taken no pleasure in dragging every secret of the man's into the light, not that he did much of the dragging. Roose Bolton had his uses.
Ned was not paying attention and jumped at the soft voice of the man he'd just thought of, "It was most fortunate that Maester Luwin had accompanied you from Riverrun." Ned noticed the man's glare at his wife, "Lord Stark does not often show off my work, but I heard your Septon, and Septa were given a viewing when it was still fresh. A reminder that the North belongs to the Old Gods."
Eddard motioned the guards to escort Caitlyn away before turning to Roose, "Have you made preparations for your journey?"
"I have my lord," Roose lowered his head, "though, I must know, what did you see in your vision my lord to erode the friendship between us? What devilry drives you to cast me to Essos in our darkest hour, the enemy is at the gate, pounding to be let in. I am the greatest of your commanders, but you send me like a dog to fetch."
It had taken every ounce of control that Ned had not to strike Roose down the moment he'd entered Winterfell's great hall. Roose had moved to kneel before Eddard, completely disregarding Robert's presence, and addressed him as Magnar. The Lord of the Dreadfort was reminding his Northern brethren that they swore their oaths to Winterfell, not to the Iron Throne. The Targaryen kings had long forgotten that little fact, that they only kept the loyalty of the North through the loyalty of House Stark.
Eddard could not punish the man standing before him for sins he might commit. He was not Tywin Lannister and regarding Lysa and Baelish, they'd both had many sins piled upon them from years before the visions came. He crossed his arms, as he answered Roose's question, it was plain enough that the man knew of the visions and accepted them as such, "You betrayed and murdered my eldest son and lady wife, your bastard burnt Winterfell and murdered those loyal to my house."
Roose nodded, "I see," he indicated the keep, "there is a Wildling woman here, arrived just before I did, but we have crossed paths before. I told your sons a story of Ramsy dying in the wolf's wood, it was a lie. Ramsy died on a pyre of his own men's corpses. The woman had visions as well, she comes to willingly take the place those visions showed she had been placed by the gods. To be the spear that defends your children, she failed once in a time that is naught."
A frown came to Eddard's face, "She killed your bastard?"
"At my behest, the visions showed he'd be the end of myself and my line. He murdered my legitimate son Domeric, putting an end to any hopes of uniting our houses. I knew your southron wife would never approve of a match to Ramsy, even if he were legitimized. I would not wish that beast on your elder daughter, and I am certain if rumors are true your younger daughter would geld him and feed him to his dogs had he tried any of his games on her."
Eddard shook his head, "Let us not dwell on possible futures that cannot be. I cannot hold you to blame for actions you might have taken, the one who gave me the vision was biased regarding the events. I thought him emotionless and impartial at first, but recent revelations have shown he was still very much the child he appeared to be."
"A child my lord?" Roose frowned, "whatever do you mean?"
Ashara reminded them she was still present, "The Three-Eyed Raven, one of the two who passed on the visions of the Long Night and the tragedies that led to the end of all things. The true identity of the young man was unknown to me, though I had suspicions he was kin to Ned. The Three-Eyed Raven was in truth Ned's middle son Bran." She grimaced, "He was not keen to speak with me, leaving it to Bloodraven to give me the warnings."
Ned sighed, "It will be best if I speak with the children. Robb and Sansa have taken it all rather well, and the younger three are still wrapped up in the novelty of another sibling." He focused once more on Bolton, "I am expecting you to be back from Essos with good news regarding your duties."
"Of course, my lord," Roose turned and headed for the steps.
Ashara stepped next to Ned, "You do not trust that man?"
Ned looked at her, "Not for a moment, and he knows that. I have already written to the Company of the Rose, they are prepared to return. I told them to keep an eye on Roose. If he even looks the wrong way, they will see he does not return to Westeros."
Ashara raised a brow at that, she realized now she was not speaking to Ned, or even Lord Eddard Stark, this was the Quiet Wolf standing before her.
(The Wall - Castle Black)
Brynden Rivers watched as the ancient gate was slowly raised to allow him to pass beneath the Wall, back into the lands of men, and to a place he thought he would never see again. His arrival must have surprised the Watch, a group of his brothers stood at the ready, drawn bows with dragonglass-tipped arrows and weapons with sharp-edged obsidian embedded in the steel at the ready. He nodded at the men ready to defend against the dead, "Well met brothers, but know, creatures in league with the Others cannot pass through the wall of their own accord."
He threw back his hood revealing his face, there were many shocked expressions. He doubted any present would recognize him at first sight, so it was no doubt the magically imbued eye the Old Gods had gifted him to replace the one his half-brother had taken several lifetimes ago. He looked around at the gathered members of the watch, "Where is the Lord Commander, the hour is late, the shadows grow long, and the days short."
"Here," Jeor Mormont stepped in front of his men, "name yourself brother, I know you not."
"Nor should you," Brynden chuckled, "I was Lord Commander before you were even a glint in the corner of your father's eye. I am Brynden Rivers, but some have been known to call me Bloodraven."
Jeor frowned at that, "Seems the Old Gods revived you as they have your great nephew."
"Indeed," Brynden sighed, "we have been fools, my brothers, fools have forgotten our true purpose. The Others march upon the free folk, and where are we? Hiding here letting them be slaughtered in the thousands."
"No, they are not," Benjen Stark motioned his rangers to lower their weapons, "It is a hard pill to swallow, and many are reluctant to allow the free folk to pass through the Wall. Lord Lannister and my brother are dealing with this matter. The lords to the south have sent ships to evacuate Hardhome. Other ships have been sent to evacuate settlements along the coastlines. The dead will soon find themselves alone beyond the Wall, and only true death to greet them here."
Surprised that the warnings had been so readily heeded Brynden sighed, "I would speak with my nephew, there is much to be said." He was escorted to the measter's chambers where Aemon was giving orders to various stewards, "It is good to see you so active Aemon."
The second oldest man in Westeros turned to him, his eyes still clouded over, "I'd recognize that voice anywhere. Brynden? How?"
"A bit of the Old Gods magic and the fire that burns in my Valerian blood. Same as you, it would seem, though, they gave me back the eye I lost."
Aemon chuckled, "I need not my eyes to impart sound advice and give orders. You were always of the more tactical mind. In fact, my eyes may well have been an impediment, I have lived so long without the gift of sight. I know the world better through sound, scent, taste, and touch. The fifth sense is now redundant, though I do miss reading."
Shaking his head Brynden patted his great nephew's shoulder, "It may well have been all that reading that took your sight in the first place. Yet as it stands, you may be right. The power of sight often blinds men to what their other senses tell them. We have much to do, and we cannot tarry here, the wolves howl the song of coming winter and the dragons must respond."
Aemon nodded, "Word has come that Aegon and Daenerys have found refuge at the side of the stag. As hard as that is to believe." The maester sighed, "I have learned there was another of our house who survived, Jon Snow the supposed bastard of Lord Stark is the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna."
"Indeed, that is a truth I was always aware of," Brynden noticed the first ranger's aggrieved expression, "do not doubt your brother's faith in you first ranger, he knew not that the stag was aware of the truth, only the falcon knew and fell prey to the deceitful nature of his Andal blood. Your brother did what he could to protect what remained of his family."
"As long as the blood of the starks continues we have a fighting chance," Aemon's comment drew Brynden's attention back to him, "you are waxing prophetic nephew, you were not given the warnings."
Aemon nodded, "That is true but we have scoured the libraries here in Castle Black, and I have sent men to the other castles to examine anything left behind there. An easy task as we are preparing them to be reinhabited when winter comes. Many believe no one returned from the last battle at the end of the last Long Night."
Brynden nodded, "That is the common consensus, my rangings north discovered no signs of anyone other than the Others and Wrights returning from the lands of Ever Winter."
"It had been eight thousand years uncle, even in the frozen wastes any signs would have long been buried or destroyed." Aemon motioned to one of the stewards sitting at the table. The young man must have known what the maester wanted as he picked up some parchments and handed them over, "We have had to piece the accounts together, but two centuries after the Long Night ended and the Wall was raised, a man did return. At the very least what was left of a man."
"A half-wright," Brynden was surprised, "how did I never hear of this?"
Jeor huffed, "The documents were never brought to Castle Black. At the time the Night Fort was still the seat of the Watch. The Lord Commander at the time hid the records, and not much was taken from the Lord Commander's chambers aside from the manifest of runic weapons after the fall of the Thirteenth Lord Commander."
"The Night's King," Brynden sighed, "he must have known about half-wrights, that is how he and his followers became them."
"You speak of the Watchman who rides a great elk," Jeor frowned, "I'd think him a myth, a boogieman the wildlings use to scare their children and warn them of us, but I saw him at a distance on one of my first rangings."
Brynden sighed, "Be thankful you did, if he was near then the Others were no doubt stalking you." He turned back to Aemon, "What did this half-wright have to say?"
The maester sighed, "Much of his testimony was lost, but what we can gather, he fought at the side of Brandon the First, the father of Brandon the Builder. He claimed the battle was long and bloody, and losses on both sides were devastating. They fought their way into the very heart of the Other's domain and stood before the Great Other. To end the fighting and save what remained of his people, the Great Other swore an oath, as long as Brandon's blood ruled from Winterfell, the Others would not leave their domain to invade."
"Fuck," they all turned to Benjen, "Torrhen knelt to Aegon the Conqueror. He broke an oath we didn't even know existed."
Brynden nodded, "The Great Other lives beyond the sight of the Old Gods, they would not have been able to show any Greenseer this. It must be why the half-wright was sent to relay the message." He then began rubbing his temples, "This is not known either thanks to the fucking shitstorm that was the Dance of Dragons, but Aegon had a prophetic dream that led him to the belief he needed to conquer and unite Westeros, of a great darkness coming from beyond the Wall."
Aemon shook his head, "The thing about prophecies, something I could never get Rhaegar to understand. The more you fight or attempt to bring them about, the more likely they are going to happen in unexpected ways. Aegon thought he could stop the darkness by uniting Westeros, but his actions were in fact what triggered this calamity."
(The North – Winterfell)
Lord Leyton found Lord Stark upon exiting the godswood, "Lord Stark." The call of the Reachman drew the attention of several others who frown at the man for only being dressed in a pair of breeches. Lord Stark was not one of them, as he knew what Leyton was doing in the godwoods.
Eddard approached and motioned towards the archway that led back into the woods, "You need something, Lord Hightower?"
"There is a sensitive matter we need to discuss," Leyton led Eddard back to the heart tree. Both men stopped short at the sight that greeted them. Leyton recovered first, "Lord Stark, may I introduce Leif, the one who speaks for the Children of the Forest."
Eddard took a couple of steps closer before kneeling so he was more on level with the being standing before the heart tree, "Lief? You were in my vision, you helped my son."
Lief nodded, "I did and will again Magnar."
"He will become that thing again," Eddard sighed.
Lief shook her head, "Maybe, maybe not, the gods have many plans in motion as many as those you humans have set. The dragonglass flows to the Wall, the brotherhood rides, and those doomed to fall will be plucked from the jaws of death. The one whose name was stricken bade me return this to the magnar of winter. Use it to call upon the sleepers."
Leyton and Eddard watched as Lief pulled a war horn from the bag on her back, "This is, it thought it lost."
"Stolen long ago, hidden, and found again many times." Lief smirked, "Useless to any but the true magnar, the blood of the magnar runs in your veins. Faith unbroken, honor unstained, loyalty unquestioned."
The lord of the Hightower noticed Eddard frown before speaking, "I am not all those things. I lost my faith when my father and siblings were taken from me, I besmirched my honor when I laid with Lady Dayne after marrying Catelyn, and would a loyal man have raised the son of the enemy of his king?"
Lief tilted her head, "You doubted yes, but lose your faith you did not, returned you did, the gods know this to be true, the old ways are yours. In the eyes of the old gods, you have honor beyond any man who walks your halls you shielded a child of your blood and the words of marriage in Sept are mere words to those who follow the gods of earth and tree, you are magnar any child sired by you is true and a gift of our gods. As for loyalty, you are the Magnar of Winter, the Wolf of the Forest, and the Blood of the Builder, you have proven your loyalty to your gods, your kin, and your people."
Leyton knelt at Eddard's side, "The Child of the Forest is right, you are the Magnar of Winter, the true ruler of the First Men."
He saw Lord Stark glower at him, "You have sworn oaths to the King just as I have."
"Words of the Seven," Leyton said solemnly, "words of Andals, of invaders, butchers, and hypocrites. Even the gods of my ancestors, those of Sea and Sky are among the pantheon of the old gods. The North follows those of Earth and Tree, but we are all of the same blood, of the same faith. As Lord of the Hightower, I am beholden to the laws of the King of the Seven Kingdoms, but as the blood of the First Men, I heed the command of my magnar."
Leyton watched as Eddard Stark hesitantly picked up the war horn from Lief's outstretched hands. Few knew the power of the ancient relic, a tome in the Hightower held the accumulated tales. Some thought it would bring down the Wall. While others took the concept of sleepers literally, believing that some army slept within the Ice tunnels within the Wall. Leyton held to a third belief, the horn was tied to their blood, it was meant to call upon them in the hour of need when the Watch would need its allies from across the kingdoms of the First Men. It was good that nearly all the Paramount Houses still had some First Men blood coursing in their veins.
(Winterfell – Caitlyn's chambers)
Margaery followed her future good sister and Lady Mormont into Lady Stark's chambers. Margaery had been absent from the yard but had heard from Nymeria about the altercation on the wall above the gatehouse. She had immediately gone to check on Sansa, learning she was planning to visit her mother and find the truth of what happened. They'd had to seek out Lady Mormont as the guards would not let Sansa enter without a loyal household member or Northern Banner.
Dacey was the first they had found but had directed them to her mother. Maege Mormont had agreed, the grey-haired older woman was not keen on the idea for some reason. They entered to find the room in shambles, the guards had warned Lady Stark had been raging since they locked her in.
Sansa called out as soon as the door was shut behind the three of them, "Mother?"
A red-eyed Caitlin Stark slowly stood from the far side of the bed, "Sansa, my darling…" her eyes took in both Margaery and Mage, "Oh, you brought others, I am sorry I'm not presentable, perhaps you could give me a moment with my daughter."
"A moment to fill her head with some venomous poison you mean," Maege said flatly, "what in the fuck did you do to rile up my boy. Ned can contain himself better than any of his siblings, yet you got him fuming mad in public."
Sansa blinked curiously at the older woman's wording, "Lady Mormont, what did you mean by your boy?"
"Humph, whom the hells did you think raised Rickard's pups after Lyarra was taken by fever?" Maege crossed her arms, "My brother was Lord of Bear Island, he had a wife and son and didn't have any need for me lingering about. Lyarra was my closest friend and I was not about to leave her last gifts to the world to suffer without a mother figure."
Margaery frowned, there was something else in Lady Mormont's wording that was triggering the voice of her grandmother in her mind. There was something more to the story, but she'd wait to uncover such details later. She moved to an overturned chair and righted it, "My Lady, perhaps we can help tidy up this mess, I am sure we can assist in finding whatever you misplaced."
Sansa was quick to follow Margaery's distraction, moving to help her mother pick up pillows and furs that had been thrown from the bed. It took some time but eventually, the room was put mostly back to right, or at least what Margaery assumed was right as she'd never seen the room before the hurricane.
The four of them were soon after sitting at a small table, a servant had brought a tray of tea and snacks. The cleaning distraction had only worked so long, and Maege was as much of a mother bear as her house sigil would imply. Caitlyn hesitated to answer for as long as she could, "I infringed on guest rights and stepped beyond my station as Lord Stark's wife. After Lady Dayne revealed her son as Ned's real bastard, I went to the Sept to pray. The former queen and I had words and I ended up striking her."
Margaery gasped, "She is under the protection of Lord Stark as a prisoner, and she was under guest rights as well." Maege only shook her head disappointedly while Sansa looked sadly at her mother. "That must not have been the end of it, Lord Stark does not seem to me to lose his calm easily."
"He isn't," Caitlyn agreed, "I made a gross error in judgment. Being surrounded by so many bastards, I feared for the safety of my children, and then Ashara Dayne and her bastard son walked brazenly into my home. The way he so swiftly inserted himself with Robb, and their cousin Jon. I thought, if Lady Dayne broke guest rights I could have at least her and Edric sent away."
"Mother?" Sansa gasped, "you didn't."
Maege groaned, "What did you say?"
Bowing her head Caitlyn sighed, "I tried several things to get under Lady Dayne's skin, calling her a whore questioning her son's claim to Starfall. It was questioning Lyanna's honor and calling Jon a bastard that finally set her off. I had forgotten that Ned was standing mere feet away.
"I see," Maege stood from her seat, "ladies, we have taken enough of Lady Stark's time, we should take our leave. Lady Sansa, you have duties to attend to in your mother's stead."
"Right," Sansa said nervously.
Margaery was quick to support her good sister, interlocking their hands, "Come sister, we can check in with Lady Arianne Martell first, she has experience managing a great house after all." She noticed the younger girl calmed slightly and was quick to lead her from the room. She'd noticed Maege had not followed immediately, sure the older woman wanted them out of hearing range before giving Lady Stark a piece of her mind.
(Eddard's Solar)
Ned was sitting at his desk studying the war horn Lief had given him when there was a knock at the door. He quickly hid the horn away in the cabinet behind his desk before responding, "Who is it?"
The guard on duty responded, "Lady Dacey Mormont my lord, she comes with a message from her mother."
"She may enter, then you are dismissed," Ned used his lordly voice to ensure the guard understood he wanted no eavesdropping.
The door opened and Ned saw Dacey enter before the guard closed the door, his direwolf then moved to the door sensing his desire for privacy. It had been more than four years since he'd seen Dacey. She bowed to him, "My lord."
"Huh, is that any way to greet your elder brother, little sister?" Ned crossed his arms.
Dacey smirked, "It is when only a handful of people know that secret."
"Secret," He frowned as he looked at her dark hair and long face, grey eyes reflecting at him, "guess we do keep our distance at most gatherings. How is Alysane doing?"
"Well, as you've no doubt heard she and her bear have had a second child, a boy." Dacey frowned, "Mother told me what Caitlyn said. Think she hasn't been that furious since the trout was pushing for a betrothal between Benjen and me."
Ned nodded, it had been hard to explain why such a match was impossible. One of the few things both followers of the Old Gods and Seven agreed on was the wrongness of sibling incest. The residents of Bear Island were the strongest followers of the old ways, to the point the concept of legitimacy was a blurry subject. Daughters could inherit and almost always carried the name Mormont as did their children.
He remembered the letter from Brandon informing him of Dacey's birth, he'd been careful to ensure it was not found by the wrong person. Robert had read it but did not understand the meaning behind the wording. Though anyone more cunning might have realized what the mother bear found her way into the wolf's den and now a wolf bear roams meant. Ned didn't officially meet Dacey until years later when she came to Harenhall ostensibly as one of Lyanna's attendants. He'd almost punched Brandon when he japed about the little wolf bear looking so much like the roaming quiet wolf.
Dacey had been only ten name days old at the time, and there had been rumors swirling at the tourney that she was a bastard of Brandon's, though the rumors were close to the truth, they were easily dissuaded when Jorah challenged a knight for speaking of such things in his presence. He soundly beat the man to the point the knight could not compete in the tourney. Ned had personally thanked Jorah for protecting their mutual kin.
He noticed her fidgeting, "What?"
"Your brooding," Dacey frowned, "about the tourney no doubt."
Ned smiled, "You know me so well, now why have you come to deliver Lady Mormont's message. There must be more than simply wishing to see your elder brother. I know you've visited the Wall when Benjen has been near Bear Island."
"You need someone to vent to, and who else here knows more about you than your younger sisters, Alysane would be here but some of our father's traits that failed to grace her appeared to have taken root in her son. She doesn't want rumors as I've faced being aimed at her children, or people to get the wrong idea."
"I've told Great Jon to stop with the japing," Ned sighed, "it is the worst kept secret in the North, we don't need the rest of the Kingdoms to know it. Let the Southrons gossip, I grow tired of their games." Ned dropped into one of the chairs positioned in front of the hearth, "The enemy is at the gate and they have more concerns over legitimacy and claimant rights."
Dacey moved to a table next to the desk and poured them each a cup of wine, before giving Ned one and sitting in the other chair, "You know Alysane and I are at your command, we are Mormont in name but we also carry the blood of House Stark. You are our liege lord and brother, all we need is a word."
"I know," Ned took a deep drink of his wine, "and I have decided. Arya will be going south to Dorne, ostensibly to train and spend time with her brother Edric in Starfall. I want you and Alysane to accompany her, take that bear of Alysane's along with you. I need you to take care of something while there. I will give you the location of the Tower of Joy. Take a party there and retrieve the remains of our countrymen. I will need to appease Barbrey Dustin to ensure the North is unified, she is the one problem I cannot simply remove by sending her to the Wall."
"Agreed," Dacey frowned, "but why send both Alysane and me, one of us would be more than enough to watch over Arya and retrieve the remains."
Ned set his cup aside and held out his hand, which Dacey took, "I need you to do more than just watch over my children dear sister. Prince Doran noticed the uncanny resemblance between you and Arya. He remembered the rumors of Harenhall, and Ashara heard you call me brother the night she and I exchanged pins. She cannot lie to her prince any more than you would lie to me."
Dacey bowed her head, "I am to wed a boy?"
"No," Ned shook his head, "Oberyn, his paramour will not wed him because she knew there was a chance such a political match would be needed. She did not realize the match would be with someone who looks like the girl he pined for grown into a woman. When asked why you have not been wed, I told them that is your secret to share."
"I have no say?" Dacey grimaced.
Ned kept a hold of her hand as he stood moving to kneel before her and placing his other hand on the side of her face, "Your choice is not something I will take from you, there are other ways to bind Dorne to the North, but I fear Prince Doran's younger son may be irreparably damaged if he dared to court Arya."
"The little she-wolf is quite fearsome," Dacey smirked, "it is no easy thing, the task you place before me."
Ned grinned, "Have I found something that my little wolf bear cannot overcome?" Ned placed her forehead against his own, "Remember, as long as I draw breath, anyone who dares harm my pack will not live long to regret their decision." The image of Dacey doubled over the axe of a Frey he knew not the name of went through Ned's mind, her broken body laying among those slaughtered alongside his wife and son, "I will not be far, Kings Landing is much nearer to Dorne than Winterfell."
Dacey sighed, "I will speak with the Southron but I make no promises dearest brother."
"Good," Ned leaned back, "Oh, and on another note I want you to avoid Robert he noticed your similar appearance to Lyanna and I got that look in his eye. If he figures it out, not that I put much stock in his ability to make the connection, but I do not want you to suffer him if he does. Oberyn at the least will acknowledge you are not our sister, but Robert's obsession would not allow him to make that distinction."
"That and I do not want to go a hundred miles near that horrid place," Dacey grimaced, "I can bare the tower, Lyanna left us a gift in Jon. I cannot look upon the place father and Brandon drew their last breaths."
Notes:Four things...First, the Magnar thingI had this whole thing written about it and not feeling like rewriting it, but it's basically the fact the Starks are the only pre-conquest rulers of the First Men not defeated in combat. The Martells might have some First Men blood somewhere in their lineage, but they don't profess it and have their own culture that is unique to Dorne, even though they mostly follow the Seven.Second, on Roose BoltonAgain had a big paragraph written, you might have figured out I'm not happy with my computer right now. Basically Roose and Eddard became friends and had mutual respect following Robert's rebellion. The friendship waned over time due to many factors, namely Caitlyn's obsession with stereotyping people based on the history of their house, legitimacy, and her desire to seek matches for her children in the south. Roose betrayed Robb because of the cumulative effect of his mistakes (breaking his marriage pact, executing Karstark while not punishing Caitlyn for releasing Jaime, trusting Theon and getting the North invaded by the Iron Born)Third Dacey and Alsane being Rodrick's daughtersA head cannon I've had, and use it in most of my ASOIAF fics, I have a third one that hasn't been posted yet. Basically Maege as was in Winterfell as Lyanna's governess after the death of Rickard's wife. Because of the customs of House Martell it was not problematic, especially as it was rare for Mormonts to travel south. Dacey went with the Stark siblings to Harenhall to meet Ned, and followed him around. After the rumors she was kept at a distance, Alsane looks more like her Mormont relatives though.Fourth Oberyn and Dacey
Do not read to much into this pairing, notice I haven't tagged it.
