*In this chapter; "Ser Rodrik" refers to Rodrik Cassel. Simply "Rodrik" refers to Rodrik Forrester.

310 AC

Rickon Stark

Gods now this is the life. At the head of a great host! Oh he wasn't daft; he knew it was truly Ser Rodrik in command. Regardless, it was such an exciting time. True to his father's hope, a number of other houses sent men to join the expedition as well. Jon Burley, the heir to House Burley, as well as his own son and heir, Ulf, joined them with twenty clansmen.

And his own direwolf joined him. Shaggydog had grown impressively large in the ten years since his discovery with his littermates. Already over the size of a young horse, Shaggy was as wild as he had always been, growling and yapping at all who approached him, even those loyal men from Winterfell.

Karl Cassel's brother, Harrion Cassel, led another ten men as well. Willam Cerwyn commanded the fifteen or so men. Lord Gregor Forrester sent ten men under his heir Rodrik Forrester. Lastly, another six men and women joined from House Liddle under the second son of Lord Torren, Morgan.

These men, together with the men directly from House Stark, they numbered near one hundred. Now that they reached Castle Black, he was sure that they'd receive a few more black brothers. They had just entered through the gates when the Lord Commander and another man approached.

"You must be Rickon Stark?" His father told him of Jeor Mormont. A long-lived man in a position where many died young. However, he was the uncle to his goodsister. And he was a former lord in his right. Despite no longer being subject to the legal affairs of the realm, he still showed respect to him.

"Aye. I assume you are Jeor Mormont, Lord Commander?"

"You'd assume right young lordling." He motioned to the man to the right of him. "This is Ser Alliser Thorne. He serves as the Master-at-Arms for Castle Black. He is also serving as the acting First Ranger until…if, your uncle is found."

He nodded solemnly at the mention of his purpose. He introduced his own companions. "Here is Jon Burley, heir to Lord Burley. This is Harrion Cassel, son of Lady Gwyneth Cassel. This here is Willam Cerwyn, brother to Lord Cerwyn. Lastly we have Rodrik Forrester and Morgan Liddle."

The Bear of the Watch gave a respectful nod to each of them, as they did to him. Finally, Mormont's eyes widened when he saw his last traveling companion.

"Rodrik, is that you?"

Ser Rodrik swung from his horse and approached the Bear. "Jeor! Gods, you don't look a day over…sixty!" Both men chuckled at that. Rickon noticed that the man known as Ser Allister kept a grimace on his face.

Once all the final introductions were made, the Lord Commander gestured up to a room in one of the wooden buildings. "Come, my lords. Let us discuss this out of this damnable wind."

Even the large and gruff mountain clansmen nodded happily at the thought of such a thing.

They had barely sat down at the long table when mugs of grog were placed in front of them. It was neither the rich, dark, ale that was infamous in the North, nor was it the lighter, paler, ale that most of the Southerners preferred. Rather, it was thick, thicker than any ale he had ever seen. It was slightly bubbly and foamy atop. Rather curiously, a tube-shaped piece of wood was standing in the mug. Jeor Mormont seemed to sense his confusion.

"Tis a straw lordling. Stick it all the way down, it bypasses all the nasty stuff."

Taking the man's advice, Rickon used his fingers to direct the straw all the way down, stopping only when he felt resistance from the bottom of the mug. He took a great sip.

He was a Northerner. He had dark ales before.

But fuck the gods and call him a fool.

"Shite!" He exclaimed. "That'll melt the fucking Wall!"

His comment made the other men laugh. But out of the corner of his eyes, he could tell that even the older mountain clansmen seemed a tad put off by the grog.

"Aye, it's bad. But it's full of energy that is." The Lord Commander offered sage advice. "On a cold night, beyond the Wall…on an empty stomach, that liquid has saved more lives than taken it. So thick, almost like a rich bread loaf."

Rickon would never admit it, but already, he was feeling his belly fill, better than a normal meal he thought. He'd be open, it was genius. Due to its attributes as an alcohol, it had a far better storage life than any food that could be prepared. No wonder it was so sought after at the Wall.

Cheap, easy, and filling better than the best meals available at the Wall.

"We'll take some barrels Jeor, no doubt helpful on our mission." Ser Rodrik added.

But the Lord Commander shook his head. "Nay, the drink is so strong, it burns holes in any wood available here at the Wall. Sheep offal. It's sturdy enough to carry the drink without it burning through.

None of them were turned off by that. Over thousands of years, the North has had to adapt to its climate. If that necessitated eating foods of questionable nature, or consuming drinks that seemed to be the penultimate step to Wildfyre, then so be it.

"Lord Commander…perhaps we can begin our talks of this expedition."

Rodrik nodded to him. A good sign. Directing the conversation.

"Aye young lord let's begin. Ser Alliser, a report on the Watch?"

The acting First Ranger nodded and turned his scowled faced towards them. "After the Lion's War, the Watch's numbers raised to nearly two thousand. Greyguard, Rimegate, and Icemark were the first posts we decided to re-garrison. But even still, such a long Wall, only still few men to man it. We cannot send a dedicated party north of the Wall. Much of our manpower is currently being used to repair and re-furbish those castles mentioned. Any delay, and it could cost us when winter arrives."

"Thank you, Ser Allister."

The knight only sneered at him and turned back to the Lord Commander. Rickon looked to Rodrik for assistance, but he seemed confused as well.

At this point, said knight spoke too. "How many of the Watch are rangers?"

Jeor nodded once more to Ser Alliser. "According to our latest reports from our other castles, about seven hundred are dedicated rangers. Builders occupy our greatest division of labor currently, with the mentioned castles, we needed a great number of them. About two hundred brothers who are currently serving as builders, are actually rangers, but we needed the manpower in order to finish the forts in time for winter."

"Your raven to my father mentioned that you would still be able to assist us with guides and a handful of rangers?"

Once more, Ser Rodrik nodded subtly in approval. But instead of answering, both the Lord Commander and the Master-at-Arms for Castle Black looked at each other in worry. Without saying a word to each other, the Mormont addressed the rest of the room.

"My lords, my good men. It has been a long journey for you no doubt. Please, I will have a few stewards show you to your lodging. I will finish up here with Lord Rickon and Ser Rodrik."

Although the other men could sense that not all was well, a few nodded and stood. Shortly thereafter, the room was sparse other than himself, Ser Rodrik, and the two black brothers.

Jeor Mormont gave a great sip from his own grog…and impressed Rickon without recoiling from it. Leaning over, he looked betwixt himself and Ser Rodrik.

"Aye…you heard right lordling. However, well over half of the current rangers are very inexperienced, the other half is spread across the length of the Wall."

Ser Rodrik let out an angry sound. "Is that to say that you have no men to assist us with? Lord Stark was assured that we would have knowledgeable men of the Watch to guide us."

"Watch your tongue. The Watch protects. I will not sit here and listen to the complaints of a man who doesn't even know the Wall, nor the brothers who guard it."

"Watch yourself, Ser Alliser-" Though his words were of respect, Rickon, and all, could hear the underlying tone. "-you learned of the Wall for punishment for fighting for a Mad Man. I was born in the North, bred by it. I know more of the cold than you could ever know."

Ser Alliser grimaced and stood, a hand on his pommel. "Ser Alliser!" Jeor Mormont stood up and glared at the Master-at-Arms. "Remand yourself back to the garrison!"

"Lord Commander, I urge you to-"

"Now!" He roared.

The room was silent before Ser Alliser removed his hand from his pommel, he turned and stormed out of the room. Slamming the door behind him so hard, Rickon was sure that it should have collapsed.

The remaining three stayed quite until the Lord Commander let out a sigh. "You must excuse his behavior. Ever since the Rebellion, he has dedicated himself to the Watch. Though…perhaps the memories of such a time are still fresh for some."

Ser Rodrik, a veteran of Robert's Rebellion himself must have agreed, as he too stood up. "Aye, some memories never leave." He cleared his throat. "Excuse me Lord Commander, Rickon, I must have some fresh air."

Ser Rodrik too left, leaving Rickon alone with Jeor Mormont. "That could've ended far more violent."

"I'll take your word for it, Lord Commander. Regardless, I must insist, why are you acting odd ever since Ser Rodrik mentioned us bringing guides from the Night's Watch?"

The Lord Commander looked at him. Not a hard stare, nor an angry gaze, but one of weight. A heaviness was on his eyes. A heaviness that only came from a life long-lived.

"The matter of scouts and guides from the Watch, is not a problem, in of itself. However, the most experienced ranger, who is readily available to serve as your lead scout, well…it could make the entire expedition, a tad difficult."

"How so?"

"Well…it's none other than Ser Jaime Lannister."

Ah.

Oh.

"Hmm."

"Yes."

"I see."

"I hope you do."

"Will it be a problem?"

The Lord Commander took another sip of his grog before retorting. "Ser Jaime came to the Wall a broken man. In many ways, I hadn't expected him to last long here; if not the cold, than the wildlings…or himself. For the first year here, I would send a steward up to the top of the Wall whenever he was posted on watch just in case he got the idea of taking a long hike off the short path."

"And yet, since his arrival, he began to fit in far quicker than any expected. Perhaps it is the martial lifestyle that suits him. He always was infamous for being a knight and soldier at heart. Even before his disgrace, I could see he would never be his father's heir."

"Will he make a move against me?"

"All men forsake their previous lives to become a brother." Jeor responded harshly. But Rickon was the Wild Wolf, he didn't back down.

"Did Ser Alliser?"

The Mormont didn't respond but let out a humph. Rickon was proud of that one.

"What you need to worry moreover is his skills."

"If he is unskilled, why attach him to this party?"

"Oh he knows the lands beyond the Wall well, and there isn't a brother here who wouldn't pray for Ser Jaime to fight wildlings alongside them. But even after a decade here at the Wall, his skills at starting even a basic fire are useless. If it wasn't so necessary in this life, it would be quite humorous."

"Well that's quite alright, all the men in my party are experienced at it, including myself. Has Ser Jaime been informed of this?"

"Not yet. He only just returned from a patrol two days ago. He had led a party of six or so brothers to patrol Whitetree. We had received reports of…strange happenings occurring there."

"Strange? How so?"

"Words of walkers of ice and snow on the wind, of shadows that haunt the darkness of woods and forests."

"Surely you don't speak of the Others?" Rickon had once been enamored with the stories of Ol' Nan, but he had grown out of the fearful states that it would put him in. "They are naught but stories to frighten children."

"What are stories, if not the deeds and histories of people long past? Life, turns to story, and story to legend… it isn't long until legend becomes myth afterwards."

"I see… what of the patrol?"

"Nothing. The village sports a small number of about five families, with another dozen or so surrounding them. there were no signs of any life at all."

"But?"

"As they were leaving, they reported that figures from beneath the snow burst forth. Only three of the six made it back. Erren Florent had apparently been the first to fall, only to rise back forth and attack his former brothers, bright blue eyes reported."

Rickon shivered. "Stop trying to scare me Lord Commander."

"You're scared? Good." Mormont leaned forward. "That's how I know you're still human lordling."

"How come you haven't sent word to my father about sightings of the Others?"

"I have."

"And the Red Keep?"

"No. I was a Northerner before I was a Black Brother. I know of how the south think and speak of us. If I had sent a raven south, I would only be laughed off."

"So why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because you need to know that this journey of yours… it is not just to find your uncle. But that should only be your secondary concern."

"You dare! I have traveled this far to assist in the location of-"

"Sit down boy!" Mormont stilled himself when he heard growling from the other side of the door. "Control yourself! You cannot afford to lose your mind now! Think of it, I need you to assist my men in capturing one of these wights, these bodies under their control. With that, you can travel south and show the realm the truth of our perils!"

"You have yet to convince me."

"I need not to, surely you will find out yourself when you go beyond. Make no mistake boy, whether or not you find your uncle is known only to the gods, but I absolutely know that you will undoubtedly run into the Others while you are out. When that happens, think back on this moment, and hope that what little remains of your courage has slipt away. You can only run from them. You cannot hide from them, nor fight them, your steel will shatter the moment you cross blades with them."

Rickon let out a harrumph. "I think we are done here. Doubtless, you have consumed too much of this grog, your mind is eating itself outward."

As Rickon was turning to the door, he heard a chuckle. It was an eerie thing. He spotted a raven in the corner of the room; he had been surprised he had not seen it before.

It just kept on laughing, a loud and shrill sound, but yet somehow still hollow, as if it sucked out the joy from the air.

The Lord Commander remained at his seat, only moving to stare at him in the eyes.

"Have care Rickon of Skane. The lands beyond the Wall are far more wild than even you may believe. Keep yourself warm, and never let another man out of your sight."

Rickon, still believing he was being made a fool of, countered. "Any other wise words to impart?"

"Yes. When you are beyond, and suddenly the forest grows quiet, when all the birds and insects and animals grow silent, as if the land itself has turned into a grave…run."

"Run! Run! Run! Run!" The raven chirped form its perch. "Run! Run! Run! Run!"

Rickon rolled his eyes and opened the door, meeting the fresh air and cold aroma. But as the door shut behind him, he could help but hear the raven continue its incessant chant.

And he swore a shiver ran down his spine.

Rickon had awoke from his small guest chambers. He had shared the room with Shaggy and Rodrik Forrester. The two were still relatively young compared to the other men that had joined them. during their travels to the Wall, they had grown to enjoy each other's company.

"I swear I'm so cold, I am this close to taking that torch and shoving it up mi' arse, at least than I'll have some semblance of warmth." Rodrik japed.

"Do you enjoy shoving things up your arse Rodrik? I hear of a flower in Highgarden and Storm's End that would appreciate your presence."

"Ya, ya, ya. Fuck off."

Rickon had almost laughed, if the cold air hadn't stolen his breathe from him as Rodrik opened one of the window."

"Fucking hell man!"

"Get up Stark, the air is good."

"Piss off."

The two of them had barely gotten changed when they heard a knock at their door.

"It's unlocked!" Rodrik shouted.

Unceremoniously, the door was barged open, and three men stood in the opening; the glare of the day, shrouding them in a deep darkness.

"Who goes there?" Rodrik queried friendly.

The three figures entered deeper into the room, before one of them closed the doors behind him; already, the temperature of the room began to rise, the small fire in the place working hard to warm the cold room once more.

The figure on the right was a large man. A thick neck led to a slow-moving body. Rickon thought that the man best appeared as an auroch.

The figure on the left was a much smaller man, paler skin, but very big ears. He was whistling a gentle tune to himself.

The figure in the middle – tall, he had a head of golden hair.

Neither Rickon nor Rodrik Forrester had ever met a Lannister in person. But there was no doubt. There was only one known Lannister at the Wall.

Ser Jaime Lannister.

"Well, if it isn't another pup."

"Ser Jaime."

"No insult? Doubtless your brothers and father spoke ill of me."

"My father was never your biggest fan; but neither Robb nor Edwyle spoke terribly ill of you."

"How kind of them."

"As for myself, I would rather judge a man myself, than allow my thoughts to be way-laid by others."

"Mature. Almost too so. Doesn't sound like the behavior of a wild wolf."

"Pardon, I must forgive then for a lack of reputation."

"'Tis alright. Reality is often disappointing."

"Have experience with that?"

The three others looked between them. the words and tone were friendly, but all could sense a tension in the air.

"I here we'll be the best of companions, beyond the Wall together."

"So it is. Should my party and I concerned about that?"

"And why would there be anything concerning?"

"Don't play games with me!" Rickon finally snapped.

Ser Jaime finally cracked a smile. "There's the wild wolf! Hello there."

Ser Jaime smirked, and the other two black brothers chuckled. But just then, Shaggydog strutted from around the corner.

The two brothers' eyes went wide, and both went for their hilt. But Rickon noted that Ser Jaime's eyes went wide, and his arms hung stiff at his sides.

As Shaggydog approached, Rickon intertwined his fingers with Shaggy's hair. "What's wrong Ser Jaime? Scared of, what was it you called us, a pup?"

Jaime stood ramrod straight, not moving a muscle, finally, the large man cautiously moved forward.

"Is the beast trained?"

"He is a direwolf, no one owns him; but he listens to me."

"Then I'll have to trust ya on that mi' lord. Ma' name's Grenn."

"Well met Grenn, I am Rickon of House Stark."

"All of Castle Black knows this mi' lord. Word is you're here to help us."

"You heard well then Grenn. I am here to help find my uncle, the First Ranger."

The other man stepped forth.

"And you'll help us with the ice monsters?"

Rickon rolled his eyes again. "Surely the Lord Commander put you up to-"

"No. You will be silent." Ser Jaime snapped. For the first time since his arrival, he was serious, instead of simply making japes and having fun. "Until you've huddled the man next to you for warmth and safety, I'll not have another man accuse us of making lies!"

"Says the Lannister."

"Coming from the Stark. Your ancestors would be smacking you if they saw what has happened to their house."

"Watch your words Ser Jaime."

"And watch what's around you! Take a good gods-damned look around! The walls of Winterfell are what, eighty feet high?"

"Aye?"

"So ask yourself this, Rickon of Skane-" Ser Jaime sneered. "-who were your ancestors so worried about, they'd build a wall of ice, seven hundred feet high? Hmm?"

Rickon had no answer. Ser Jaime huffed and turned and left, the two black brothers following after him. Rickon gave Rodrik a look before exiting the room himself, finally taking in the morning air.

He watched as some brothers trained in the tiltyard below, and others taking care of their chores.

As he walked along a balcony, and strode down some stairs to the mess hall, he saw a shadow pass over him. Looking up, flying was a black-colored bird.

Rickon realized it was a crow. He realized it was the same of the Lord Commander. Reaching the mess hall, he was just about to enter when he heard a noise.

Looking up, the same raven had perched on a shack wall, staring directly at him. "Run! Run! Run!"

Taking one look around the yard and the raven, Rickon hurried in to break his fast. In a far more upset mood than he had awoken.

*I do hope you have enjoyed this chapter; I believe that this was my favorite chapter to write. I had a great time with it and hope you find it as good as I do.