EDDARD I.
The mare's whines were loud and apparent as the stable boy cleaned out her painful wound. Poor animal had the misfortune of being mauled by a pack of wild wolves, luckily the strong beast would live to breath another day, her rider on the other hand...he was long gone, nothing more than a shredded corpse when they had found the remains. Life was harsh and brutal and very rural up in The North, but to House Stark it was home-for thousands of years it had been.
Ned was standing back, watching the stable boy and the other experienced caretakers dress the animal's wounds. It was a beautiful brown horse, still young but already strong and healthy. He had faith in its survival and faith in his men to care for it. Once the beast had become gentle and no longer neighing in pain, he took his leave from the stables. One matter resolved, another still pending.
Walking across the courtyard many of his loyal bannermen and servants nodded their heads in acknowledgment and respect for their Lord. Keeping his emotions hidden at all times he firmly pressed forward towards the main hall where the others waited for him. Reaching the main doors, he pushed them both open and entered the room where rest of his inner circle of friends, family and followers stood up to greet him.
"My lord." They all spoke in unison.
"Everyone." Ned gestured for them all to take a seat around the table.
They all took their places with Ned Stark at the head of the table. He did a quick glance at the assembled group-the backbone of House Stark. Jory Cassel and his uncle Rodrik Cassel; Captain and Master-at-arms respectively. Also included was Maester Luwin, old and wise as he were and finally Vayon Poole the steward of Winterfell. All these men forever loyal to House Stark and always ready to assist their noble lord with whatever task was given to them no matter the stress or pressure that it may come along with it.
"How's the horse, Lord Stark?" Rodrik spoke first.
"Hullen, has stabilized her. She will prevail against death and ride another day." Responded Ned, grabbing a set of documents laid out for him on the table.
Jory gave out his famous wry smile, "Her rider didn't, however. Poor bastard got ripped to shreds, couldn't even tell what was left of his face. Best to turn him into ashes than bury him disfigured."
"Cunning beasts they be. Hunt as one, and defeat is impossible." Luwin added.
"At the very least the contents of in the messenger's bag were spared the shredding." Jory spoke of the letters in Ned's hands. The man was a southron having rode north to deliver important documents to Winterfell, to the Lord of Winterfell to be exact. After proper examination it was verified that the man was of a bannerman of House Arryn, Ned's mentor and father-figure who was currently residing in King's Landing as Hand of the King to Robert Baratheon, first of his name.
"Strange to have not sent a raven. The distance would have been covered much quicker as opposed to a horse rider." Vayon commented at the rareness of the method of delivery.
Ned broke the seal of red wax and pulled out the folded letter and began to read what was written. The longer he read the more he began to worry internally.
Ned. It is of my belief and those shared with me by the Spider that a new band of sellswords have established themselves in the Riverlands. What they possess can potentially rival an entire army of men with ease. It is of our best interests to sway these men to our side. Gain their trust and loyalty at whatever price. Better us than the Lannisters or any other opposition of the Great Houses to gain control of these strange yet incredibly powerful weapons of theirs. I have other matters of nigh importance to attend to in the capital that require my full undivided attention. Robert is behaving himself thus far, pain in the arse as he can be. Take care son. I have full trust in you.
Jon Arryn. Hand of the King.
Ned's eyes lingered on, examining the words written by Jon Arryn himself. Was this all true? Jon would never lie to him, or waste valuable paper and ink for a bizarre prank such as this, not in the man's nature to begin with. Whomever this sellswords we're they were allocated in the Riverlands. Perhaps House Tully or any of their vassals have made contact with them, he would write to Catelyn soon.
"My lord?"
"...It appears that a sudden change is in fruition down south. A band of unknown sellswords have made their residency in the Riverlands. The Hand is concerned about these revelations as should we." Ned informed the rest.
"Sellswords? Surely Lord Tully didn't hire them, he has always found them as nothing more than honor-less killers for hire as do you. Someone else must have paid them to show up." Maester Luwin spoke, truth in his words.
"It was those fucking Lannisters, who else but them! The Old Lion is likely hoping to disrupt the upcoming tourney and cast a shadow of incompetence to House Tully, our allies and Lady Stark's family in bad light to the king's court and everyone else in the Seven Kingdoms." Rodrik ranted. Everyone in seated as First Men had no love for the Andals, but House Lannister where in their eyes the worst of them all.
"It sounds too amateur of a plan for Tywin to fabricate, it's just not...clever enough for that man to even bother executing." Jory added to the discussion.
"If not him then Queen Cersie perhaps? Her Grace is still a Lannister by blood and heart. Her loyalties to her father have always been clearer than shining fresh water."
Each of them had a different theory to the matter on hand. Ned stayed quiet, thinking over all the newly gathered information. This was sudden and with the Hand personally asking for his assistance in the matter, it was something worth investigating indeed. He would have to gather further information in the days leading up or before the tourney at Riverrun.
"Quite!" Commanded Ned Stark to his fellow first men, all who immediately went silent afterwards.
Ned let out a deep sight, rubbing the top of his nose in-between the eyes to show his clear frustration, "For now let us carry on as per usual. We all have our duties to this House and Winterfell as a whole and I expect the best from all of you. I'll inquire more about this band of sellswords with Lord Tully, surely, he has been made aware of the situation in his own realm. Whatever measures that must be made to avoid unnecessary conflict we will take but if all else fails then I leave it all in the hands of the Iron Throne to cast the king's justice upon them for unwanted provocation against the people of the Seven Kingdoms. Is this understood?"
XxXxX
The castle was far too silent and hollow from the inside. With his wife and two daughters and eldest son down south assisting in the preparations for Robert's latest tourney, Winterfell felt lacking the warmth of his family's full presence.
His two youngest were being attended to by Old Nan, carrying on their studies as they should be. Normally Bran would sneak off and go climb the towers around Winterfell much to their mother's dismay, but with Arya away he wasn't as troublesome as he normally would without her. Knowing where his children were at his mind went over to the last member of his family. And he knew where to find the young boy.
Out in the barracks he could see the figures of two young boys trying their hand at archery. On a closer look he also noticed Bran amongst them, having skipped his afternoon lessons after all.
Bran was attempting to pull back on the bowstring, struggling to keep a firm stance as his arm shook in its attempt to prevent the arrow from being shot out against his will. Jon gave him words of encouragement whilst the Greyjoy boy mocked with grins and taunts. After much time his strength gave out and the arrow shot out from a bad angle, completely missing its stationary target.
"Well, that was much expected."
"Shut up!"
"I will whenever you actually try." Ned could see Jon already feeling exasperated with the bickering of the two next to him. Might as well go lens him a hand.
"Boys." All three straighten up and stayed silent at his commanding voice.
"Father." Bran meekly responded, well aware that he was meant to be found elsewhere studying to be exact.
Jon and Theon bowed their heads and spoke in equal respect, "Lord Stark."
"What are you boys arguing about now?" Ned asked them. With most of the family gone down south he figured he could now spend some proper time with Jon.
"Just practicing is all my Lord." Theon looked down at Bran and smirked at the young boy, "Better than others of course."
Bran shoved him back earning a laugh from the Ironborn. As Jon split them apart, Ned felt amused at the display it deeply reminded him of his younger years. The imagery of him and his two brothers, Brandon and Benjen, came to mind. Simpler times. Peaceful times. Now those days are nothing more than a shadow of a distant past filled of pain and violence. Ned looked at the boys and sighed.
"Bran go back to your studies, Theon go assist Ser Poole. Jon... come with me."
XxXxX
Ned and Jon rode together on the outskirts of Winterfell. The surrounding hills still freshly green due in part to the long summer that was currently in play. Behind them was a small entourage of loyal knights with Jory Cassel in the lead, keeping a sharp eye for any dangers that could bring harm to Lord Stark and his bastard. The ride had been mostly silent, Ned not spoken much a word since leaving the castle gates and Jon simply gracing in the peaceful silence alongside his father. It wasn't greatly often for them two to spend the appropriate amount of time together, Lady Catelyn made it so.
"Have you thought about your purpose in life Jon?" Ned suddenly spoke, his gaze still fixated on the trail ahead.
"I always do my lord. It is a question from which I still can't find the right answer to." Ned reigned his horse close and gave him a reassuring pat. It was hard for him, it truly was, to be known as a bastard and never gain the respect nor fair treatment of others. Ned wished it were different. But it couldn't be, not until the time was right to reveal the truth to the boy before him.
"I know you will serve our family well. The Stark blood runs in ya, and nobody can ever take that away from ya. You will find your purpose and just like the rest of your brothers and sisters you will make a great change in this old world of ours." Deep in thought, Ned gazed upon the hills around them and straight ahead to Winterfell in the distance, "Times are changing. I do pray to the Old Gods that this time those changes are for the better. I do hope that your generation is superior to mine which only knows war and chaos."
As they continued on riding together a lone rider galloped towards them. The man had come from Winterfell and stopped before Ned. "Lord Stark, a raven has arrived from Riverrun. The sigil is of House Tully it appears to be of great importance!" Ned looked at the man, his face turned stone as Jon and the others were left to wonder. It had to be about those sellswords that the Jon Arryn had spoken about in his own letter. Whatever the case may be, his wife and three of his children were down there and gods know what has been occurring in that part of the kingdoms. He just hoped that no danger has befallen them. He immediately rode back to the castle.
I'm sorry for going AWOL. It will happen frequently.
Knighthunter911700 - Thanks for the thoughtful reviews. All is greatly appreciated my friend. Also, regarding the language barrier that you speak of...you do know that the Westerosi language is English, correct? Its over in Essos that everyone speaks differently.
Joshuamuller08 - That was the plan from the get-go. Can't call it a GOT crossover if you're only following one person. I wanted the challenge of writing multiple POVs.
Tsougrhs.59 - You're a funny dude.