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Chapter 3 – The Castle of Winter

Swoosh! Clang! Shluck!

Life had been interesting for Michael in the last two years.

Clang! Push! Swat!

A lot had happened since then, he wouldn't have believed it if he didn't live through it.

Bash! Swat!

Like, really, who would have thought that he would be having a Spar with a Stark?

Michael blocked another horizontal strike at from lord Eddard Stark and used the momentum to spin (while holding his practice sword to lock Ned's own) and give the spare on Winterfell a backhanded fist to the side of his face. The blow dazed the Stark for a moment, which Michael used to push forward and bash the lord with his shoulders.

Seriously, if anyone would have told Michael that he would be training with the family who rules half the continent, he would call them mad. And yet, here we are. Michael remembered how it happened about two years ago.

"Matilda, right?" Lord Stark asked from his throne as both Michael and his mother knelt before him.

"Y-yes, my lord."

"Rise."

They did so.

"Your son had done a great service, for both house Stark and Wintertown." Lord Stark spoke. "Not only did he save my only daughter from painful and gruesome death as he fought tooth and nail against a rabid wolf, but he also saved unknown number of people from being infected. Smallfalk became landed knights for less."

"Unfortunately, age and other bureaucratic matters make such a thing impractical in this case, So I suggest another reward." The man explained as he looked at mom. "There is always a need for maids in the castle. Should you except, you and your son will have a place to sleep here in the castle."

"As for you, Young Michael." Lord Stark now looked at Michael directly. "You have shown tremendous courage and talent, something that should be nurtured. You will be allowed to the castle's private smithy and work there as an apprentice. What's more, you have shown quick thinking and decisiveness in battle, so our master at arms will have a look at your abilities in the training ring. If you will have any requests, just ask."

"That's if you accept of course" Lord Stark paused. "If not, then you will be monetarily compensated with a fitting sum."

"We will be honored for you to have us in the castle." Mom said without hesitation.

"So be it." Lord Stark nodded.

And that's how he got to this situation.

After that, He and his mom moved in. Michael had to admit that he would miss their old place – not. He hated the place. The pile of used clothes he called bed, the crowding and complete lack of privacy, the content noise of the clients and the whores.

Oh, yes. He knew about what exactly mom was working as. He didn't 'have his balls fallen' as the saying goes, but he was old enough to understand things. Needless to say, he did everything he could to spend as little time as possible there.

But it was all in the past. Now he had an actual bed! In his own room! He didn't even think that it was possible. And it wasn't just that, the people treated him differently as well. He was no longer the strange son of a whore with the weird eyes, but the hero who saved the only female Stark left and killed a wolf on his own. He liked it.

The day after, he was tested by the master at arms, a man called Rick. The test was a simple, a spar with the master at arms until Michael couldn't fight anymore. He wasn't expected to win, but he was expected to put his all. So that's what he did. He lost of course, soundly. His only relief was that they used practice swords, so technically he remained undefeated with Lyanna (The blade, not the girl. Gods, he now regrets his name choice, this is going to be so confusing. And gods forbid if Lyanna Stark finds out about it, he'll never hear the end of it).

The master at arm's exact words of evaluation were: "The kid got some talent with the sword, but he wouldn't be Sir Barristan the Bold. But gods damn it, I have never seen such utility, dirty play, resourcefulness and stubbornness from one so young."

Apparently, this was enough to impress Lord Stark, who was watching closely for the two hours or so that they dulled. The lord said something to the master at arms, but Michel was too exhausted to hear it. His main concern at that moment was trying to force his limbs to move so he could get up and fight.

The Blacksmith of the castle was impressed as well from Michael's skill and began to teach the boy as well. Mister John was great and all, and Michael could never thank him enough for everything, but there was a clear gap of skills between the random blacksmith at Wintertown and the blacksmith who served under the Starks directly.

Michael was also allowed to tinker there his own little experiments, some small things that he thought about. For example, a crossbow that's connected to his wrist, or a thin sack that when thrown at the ground in front of an attacking opponent, will fill the floor with caterpillars on which the enemy will step on.

Now back to the present duel between Michael and lord Eddard Stark.

Power wises they were more or less equal, Ned even may have a slight advantage from the virtue of being older by a year and being slightly taller. In pure swordplay, Ned once again had the upper hand. Maybe it was the fact that the lord started much earlier than him, or the simple painful fact that the oldest spare was just more talented than him, but the results were the same. Michael couldn't win in a fair swordfight against lord Eddard.

Luckily, clashing swords wasn't the only thing in a swordfight. The master at arms said that Michael fought dirty, and by the gods, Michael didn't disappoint. Leg swaps, dust throwing, punches, Michael used them all to even the field and more. And while the young lord was better with swords, Michael discovered that he was the better fighter of the two. That, and he had better stamina, which he was using now.

You see, Michael's plan was to tire the young lord so their gap in talent will be nullified, and is was showing. Lod Eddard's strikes began to slow down and be weaker, and so did his reaction time. With Michael's tricks, the multicolored-eyed boy was finally at the offence.

They continued that little dance some more before Michael finally noticed a flow in the other boy's pose that was big enough to exploit. Michael pushed forward and aimed his practice sword to the neck, a killing blow if it was a real fight. Stark took a moment too long to react, his sword was too far to block, and his legs to planted to evade the strike.

But never let it be said that a Stark lets things slide. Lord Eddard couldn't escape the killing blow, he knew it, so he did the next best thing he could and did his own strike to "kill" the opponent before he himself "die". The young Stark's practice sword was aimed as well for the opponent's neck.

"Stop!"

At Sir Kick's, the master at arm's, command, the two boys froze. Their practice blades equally close to the other's neck.

"A tie, well fought the both of you." The man said and the boys relaxed their stance. "Now come here and review each other. Lord Eddard, you're first."

"Yes, Sir." Lord Eddard said politely. Michael liked it about him. No matter who the quiet wolf greeted, he was always polite. "He utilizes well his surrounding to battle, some of such uses may be considered improper for a spar. Although this dependency leaves his bladework stagnating as he doesn't push with it as hard as he should. He also made a few halfhearted strikes when he could have pressed on, but that could have been a part of his plan."

A bit harsh, but fair.

"Very well. And you, Michael?" Their trainer asked. "And no comments on lord Eddard's review, only analysis. I'll address each of you after."

"Yes, Sir." Michael started. "Lord Eddard has improved his skills from last time, as well as his footwork. All in all, he's a better swordsman then me. However, there were times in which he had opportunities to land a hit and maybe even finish the spar, but he hesitated for one reason or another. What's more, when he was unable to use his blade, he was fumbling. Relatively speaking, of course. It made him vulnerable to underhanded tricks."

"Good, good. Both of you raised good points." The instructor commented. "Michael, you are first."

"The points Lord Eddard made are indeed correct, you relay too much on your other skills that you neglect your sword work. What's more, this time I specifically didn't say any rules, but in a sparring duel you're expected to act in a certain standard. Those undercuts and hair pulls are unwelcomed."

"You also hesitate to push forward in an illusion that you lack the upper hand, which is enforcing your dependence on your tricks, which in return stagnating your blade skill, which in return makes you think yourself bellow your opponents. It's a loop that feeds itself."

"You do, however, show a magnificent skill of using opportunities and thinking on the fly, when your mindset doesn't make you discard them. And your skills do improve. Don't take my words in the wrong way, you are a great warrior, much better than a kid your age without formal training should be, but you need to get out of your comfort zone of else you wouldn't get better. Your tricks will only get you so far.

"Yes Sir." It was a lot to take in.

"Now for you my lord" He turned to lord Eddard. "Your Sword work is tremendously improving, and you should feel pride. However, as young Michael said, you discard opportunities to attack. For example, you didn't push forward after you made Michael stumble, you could have ended it then and there. You chain yourself, treat it as a game with rules."

"I specifically didn't tell any rules to see how the two of you act in a fight as real as possible. Michael treated it like one, you didn't. I understand that your father is having you learn about the Arynn and the Vale, as well as their values for the fostering, but you mustn't forget that you are a wolf and not a falcon."

"I turned a blind eye to Michael's mischief to see how you react to an enemy who doesn't fight fare, and you still treated it like a tourney. I promise you that the bandits you will face will be far dirtier and crueler than Michael, can you really look at a smallfalk family that was raped and killed after you lost to a bandit 'Sorry, but at least I fought fair.'?"

"Besides that, as Michael rightfully put it, you rely on your sword too much. When a wolf fights, it fights with everything it has and uses everything it can. However, don't take it too harshly, you have done well enough. I'm merely being brass because you soon will be out of the north, and I will not have any more opportunities to teach you."

"Yes, Sir." Ned said evenly, but it was clear that the words reached him. Damn, he had a much thicker hide then Michael. The brown and blue eyed boy didn't think he himself could have received it so calmly.

"Very well, practice is over for now." The man said. "You are free to go."

The two went back to the castle.

"I'm sorry." Michael said once they were out of the yard. "About the fight. I didn't mean it to be…"

"Your words are appreciated." Lord Eddard said. "And while your way of battle is… unique, I can't discard its results. Besides, you two do have a point. There is not much point in a fair fight if you lose and others pay the price for it. I must be better."

Lord Eddard really put himself for the people, Michael couldn't help but respect this. Michael's own experience with nobles is rather lacking, but he didn't think that the vast majority was half as caring as lord Eddard is. The entire Stark family took their duties to their people seriously. Well… most of them.

"That said…" Stark continued. "I may have to ask you of certain ways to act in situations where my sword is unavailable."

"Sure, of course." Michael agreed. His answer would have stayed the same even if the other boy wasn't his lord. "But shouldn't you ask the actual teacher? I hardly think that I can give you more than he."

His friend just shook his head. "I have spoken with Sir Rick, He admitted that you have a better talent and understanding then he in this subject. And that it will be easier to work with someone of my own body frame as well."

"Well, I'll be happy to help." Michael said. "How about tomorrow after you finish things with the master?"

"Sounds good." Eddard smiled.

"Hey, Ned, how are you!" A voice yelled from their right. Oh, great.

Michael turned his head and saw the eldest Stark brother and heir to the throne of winter, Brandon Stark. He was about a year or two older then Lord Eddard, but was considerably taller and had wilder shoulders. What's more, in contrast to Eddard who was nicknamed "the quiet wolf", Brandon was "the wild wolf". Enough said.

Michael's relationship with the Stark heir was a complicated one. Lord Brandon seemed to like Michael at first because all the wolf thing and treated him good. The problem was that the wild wolf was… Well, wild. Lord Brandon was loud, obnoxious and thought of himself very highly. He was a good person, Michael was pretty sure about it, but their personalities just clashed.

The real point where their relationship turned sour was at the training yard a year or so ago. It was a bout between the two in which Michael used small iron balls to make the bigger and stronger Stark slip, winning the duel. Lord Brandon demanded a rematch, but Sir Rick stopped him and told that the battle was decided. After that, the eldest Stark child stormed off angerly.

Was it because he lost to someone younger than him for the first time, because of the way he was defeated, or was it because a smallfalk was the one to best him. In the end, they drew apart. It may not have been the smartest think to have an enmity with your future lord, but that ship had already sailed. Quite frankly, he preferred that lord Eddard would have been the next lord paramount of the north.

"Brother, I am well." Lord Eddard smiled. "How are you?"

"Good, good. Just finished stalking another meeting with dad." Lord Brandon said in a pained tone. "Gods, those things are so boring. Actually makes me jealous of you, you know. Anyway, how was your day?"

"It was good, brother." The shorter Stark answered. "Michael and I just returned from a sparring session at the yard."

"Ah right, him." Brandon acknowledged Michael's existence for the first time. "Did you kick his ass?"

Keep your mouth shut Michael, keep your mouth shut. It's not worth the headache afterwards.

"Brother, it's no way to treat our household. Especially one who saved our sister." Lord Eddard warned, it's good to have a lord on your side. "And it was a draw, if you must know."

"Must have been cheating." The taller Stark scuffed. "As if you can expect something else from a son of a whore."

Deep breaths Michael, Deep breaths. You don't want to be executed because you broke all of your future lord's teeth. Mom would be very disappointed, no matter how tempting it is.

"Brother!"

"Fine, have it your way." Brandon shook his head before continuing. "Anyway, father wanted me to tell you to go to him. he wanted to talk to you about the fostering. See you at diner"

With those words, the future ruler of all the north walked away.

"I'm sorry that I come between you and your brother like that." Michael apologized. He may have his opinions about Brandon, but he honestly liked the rest of the Starks. Eddard, in return, just sighed.

"My brother can be a bit rowdy, I know it better than anyone. He was out of line here, for you and for anyone else. Although I do hope that you two at least manage to not start a fight with each other, he's to be your future lord after all."

And wasn't that scary.

"I try. " Michael defended himself. "He's the one who always starts, you saw it."

"Yes, I did see it." Lord Eddard sighed. "I'll talk to father, maybe he'll be able to help somehow."

"Thank you." Michael smiled at his friend. "I'll miss you."

"And I you." The Stark answered. "Now I must be off, better not leave father waiting."

And with that Michael was left alone as he sighed and talked to himself.

"Fine, maybe some time at the forge will help me clear my mind. Ned is leaving soon, maybe make him something as a parting gift?"

The stroll to the smithy was quick and silent. There, he found the corner that he used and went there. Many of the projects he was working on stayed there half done.

Now what to give to Eddard? Any blade Michael could make will be dwarfed by anything Lord Stark will surlily gift. Any picture Michael may amateurishly draw will no doubt be far behind what the younger Stark siblings will do, in both quality and importance. He needed something special, something that will be unique to him.

Michael scanned the mess on the table around him. The hand-worn crossbow? No, it will demand high maintenance, not to mention the bolt supply. A cloak? Not practical, and probably wouldn't be good enough for a lord to wear. What about… Huh?

Something caught Michael's eye. It was a special tool he had been working on. It was a piece of wood and metal that concealed many different blades that could be pushed out of it. A simple dagger blade, a hunter's knife blade, a bottle opening blade. Heck, Michael even added there a lockpicker for… reasons that didn't involve sneaking into the kitchen at night.

To his defense, the first few times were a kinda orders from Lyanna. The others… not so much. Hey, he was living on barely a piece of bread and a stew a day for his entire life, he wouldn't held responsible for finally having all the food he can eat within reach.

Burglary aside, it was the perfect gift to give to Ned. It was useful, small enough to fit into a pocket, and most importantly was all from Michael. Great, now he'll just have to meet the quiet wolf before he leaves.

It was ironic in a way. Ned was supposed to leave for fostering about two years ago, at the age of eight. But because of all the mess with the death of lady Lyarra Stark, may she rest in peace, Lord Stark and the family weren't in the state to "loos" another family member, so it was postponed. Funnily enough, the good master was very frustrated for some reason.

In any case, with his gift ready, it was time to continue with his day. And by that Michael meant to catch lady Lyanna for lessons in reading and writing. True to her word, Lyanna promised to teach Michael how to read and write, and he was slowly getting it. He already knew all the letters, it was easy enough, but the real challenge was to put a word together. It may sound strange, but most of the words weren't written as they were heard. Other then that, it was easier to read then to write.

When Lord Stark questioned Lyanna about this, she told him that was practicing her "parental skills to teach the children" or something like that. Lord Stark did raise an eyebrow, but didn't comment beyond stating to make sure that it didn't interfere with her own lessons. If you ask Michael, the girl just liked being the one in charge.

And so, Michael went to Lyanna's room.

"Father, you summoned me?" Ned asked once he was allowed in his father's study.

"Yes son, please come and sit." His father pointed at the chair. "How was your day so far?"

"It was well, father." Ned said he sat. "Maester Wylis had thought me more about the houses of the vale. After that, I had a sparring session with Michael under Sir Rick's watchful eye."

"That is good son." Father said. Afterwards, he questioned Ned about the Vale. About the ruling house, important events and places, and so on. It seemed like Ned's answers were the right ones, because his father smiled. "Very good, son. You will do well there, I know it."

"Father, may I ask who will accompany me during my fostering from home?" Ned asked.

"Well, there will be a group of guards for security." Father explained. "Why, do you have someone in mind?"

Did he? Well, he would have asked for his siblings to come with him, but it was impossible. The next best thing was Michael, who's low birth could be both a boon and a liability in this case. Michael didn't have any official role here, and his low birth meant that he wouldn't be "wasting" his family name for luck of proper words. But the Aryns may see this as in insult, to let smallfolk be fostered indirectly. Besides, there were other reasons.

Lyanna had taken a real liking at the two eye-colored boy, Ned could clearly see it, taking Michael with him will hurt her greatly. The passing of their mother had affecter her the most, and Michael filled an important role to distract her. He couldn't do this to her. What's more, Michael also wanted to be a guard here, and the tryouts are very soon. Ned couldn't possibly take all the hard work and the dream of his friend.

"No father, not someone specific." Ned answered. "I just wanted to be sure that I didn't forget something."

"Very well then, do you have anything else to add?"

"Am… Bran was taunting Michael again." Ned said in his heart an apology to his brother, but he did promise to let father know. The Stark patriarch, on his end merely sighed.

"What happened now…" He asked and Ned explained the course of events.

"Argh, that boy gives me sometimes nothing but headache." Father massaged the side of his head. "Such a grudge over such a small thing is dangerous for a lord, especially a lord paramount. If that stupid boy continues, he'll leave himself with no allies."

"The other lords and their kids seem to like him." Ned commented. "Surly it's not as grim as you paint it."

"If he holds grudge over anyone who's better than him at something, he'll soon enough will have a grudge over almost every person of importance." Father said. "It's his luck that for now swords are what most interests him, and that he has a talent for it."

"I think that it has more to do with Michael's rank than anything else." Ned commented. "He wasn't so salty when the Umbers came and had a strength competition."

"I think that the size of the opposition was a bigger factor here." Father said dryly. "But you do have a point. Damn it, I hope that Bran will grow up when his time comes to be lord. It would be a damn waste if he throws away what would be his best enforcer."

"Best enforcer?" Ned was confused. "Father, Michael may have some talent, but surly you don't thing that he'll be the next 'The Bold'."

"The Bold? No, he will be no 'Bold'." Father shook his head. "He will be something much, much worse."

At Ned's confused expression lord Stark explained.

"I talked to Rick, I even seen some of the spars of the boy. The kid fights to win, at any cost. You two had a draw today, right? But remember that most of his tricks weren't there. Answer me truthfully son, if I were to have the two of you fight to the death, and giving the two of you all the equipment you ask for, who do you think will lose?"

Ned thought about it and came to a terrifying realization. He spoke with Michael about battle tactics, he knew at least some of what goes in the other boy's mind. Ned once debated Michael about how to fight someone like Aagon the first, a swordsman of unparallel skill equipped with Valerian sword and armor.

Michael's answer? Throw at him oil and light a flint. And if that doesn't work, throw an empowered bear repellent, so the opponent will choke on his blood and his tears. Michael didn't even hesitate. And while Ned may be Michael's better when it comes to swords, but the other boy trained with various other tools. No matter what Ned would come with, if Michael had the time and equipment, there was little Ned could do.

"And now imagine him as a man, what do you think he could do?"

That… That was a scary thought. Ned heard stories about the faceless men, assassins that can fell a kingdom overnight. An adult Michael would be closer to that standard, without the need of shapeshifting. That man plans for every fight, and makes what he needs if there is no such thing.

"Now you get the picture." Father said. "You know that people talk about him, right? There even had been a rumor that he was sent by the old gods as a hero to start the new age of heroes, with him slaying a wolf and saving both Lyanna and the town simultaneously. Combine it with the fact that he apparently strangled a snake at three years old…"

"Who would even start such a ridiculous thing?" Ned wondered.

"A ridiculously hard to catch Bard." Father mumbled. "The point still stands. Michael could be a great asset to maintain control. Heck, with his unique thinking, he may even be able to figure out a way to get rid of the bandits infesting the King's Road. At the very least, you and your sister more than counter whatever amenity there is with Bran. No matter, I will talk to Bran about it."

The rest of the meeting was about what was expected from Eddard in his fostering. How to behave, what to achieve, and who to impress.

"Michael!" Lady Lyanna called once he was allowed entrance to her room. "How are you?"

She was with Lord Benjen, most likely either planning some mischief or just playing.

"I'm well." Michael answered. "Just finished not too long ago a spar with Ned, it was a tie. Afterwards, I found something to give him later before he leaves."

"Oh…"

"Please don't tell be that you forgot about it." Michael raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't forget it!" Lyanna denied. "It's just that it came so quickly!"

He couldn't argue with this, he felt the same.

"Anyway, I came for the lessons you talked about." Michael changed the subject.

"Oh, right!" Lyanna then turned to her younger brother. "Sorry Ben, we'll have to continue in another time."

"It's fine." The youngest Stark said. "I'll go play with Ned. Do you know where he is?"

"He left for a talk with Lord Stark." Michael answered. "So, he's probably still there. I'd go to your father's office if I were you."

"Okay, thanks Michael!" Lord Benjen said as he left.

"So, did you bring it?" Lyanna asked once the door closed. In return, Michael pulled out two baked goods he… found inside a locked storage at the kitchens. And he absolutely didn't sneak in if someone was to ask, he… walked in a way that no one saw him. completely accidentally.

"My hero!" The Stark girl wolfed the treat (pun intended) as Michael let out a friendly scoff. After that, they started the lesson.

It mostly was Michael reading and writing sentences from novels Lyanna liked, with a great deal of them depicting the adventures and challenges of Queen Nymeria. Michael didn't mind, it was a high-quality practice. Besides, poor priority decisions aside, Lyanna had a good taste in books.

"And with a pull, queen Nymeria let the lifeless body of the vulture king fall to the ground. The bandits, seeing their leader's death, surrendered and swore themselves to the queen of all Dorn." Michael wrote the sentence.

"Well done!" Lyanna exclaimed. "You almost made no mistakes!"

She then proceeded to make a few corrections to what he wrote, but much less than a week before.

"Continue like this, and you'll know your letters like a noble in no time." Lyanna complemented.

"Thanks, couldn't have done it without you."

Michael had conflicted feelings after he said that, because Lyanna's grin only grew larger. On one hand, it was good to make her happy and she did help him a lot. On the other hand, her ego was already big as it is. Oh well, too late to back up now.

"Now let's see how you are with numbers!" Lyanna pulled a list with mathematical questions.

"I didn't know that I was your homework solver." Michael raised an eyebrow. "Besides, I thought that numbers are excluded from the lady's studies according to the master."

"Oh, it's not mine, it's Brandon's" The last female Stark explained. "You know how torturous it is for him. I just thought that if I randomly came to his lesson and get the right answers from just a look, it will get a good laugh out of him."

Things like that are exactly why he thanked the gods for not having a little sister. Then again, ruffling Brandon's feathers is always tempting.

"Alright, fine." Michael succumbed to Lyanna, like most of the times. "Let me have a look."

Somehow, numbers came to him easier than words. In a few minutes, Michael solved the problems on the paper and gave it back to Lyanna.

"Here you go."

"And you're sure everything is right?" Lady Stark questioned.

"Better than lord Brandon, I can promise you that." Michael answered. "Besides, you wouldn't get someone better than me for this."

Nodding in acceptance, Lyanna put the paper back to where it was before. "Say, want to go riding?" She then asked.

As the only female Stark alive, Lyanna had many privileges even other girls of her status lack. Combining with the fact that Lord Stark had a hard time saying no to her, Lyanna was basically able to do almost everything she pleased. Although she still wasn't allowed outside the town without guard.

It also made Michael, her usual tag-along, experience many things he never thought he would. Riding a horse was one of them. Michael wouldn't lie, the first time he met a horse, he was scared shitless. This beast was by far the largest living thing Michael had ever seen, and he had bad experience with animals. With its teeth and powerful legs, Michael didn't even entertain the idea of fighting it.

When Lyanna saw him hesitating, she didn't miss the opportunity to tease him. And he had to admit, there was something really frustrating about seeing a girl half his weight being much braver than him. But respect where it's due, she didn't leave until he was able to mount a horse by himself.

Another thing that Michael found frustrating was how easily Lyanna made riding look. Even after a year or so of riding experience, Michael couldn't hold a candle to Lyanna. The main relief was that he wasn't alone there, as most of the others couldn't catch up to Lyanna as well.

"Sure, did you have someplace special in mind?" He asked.

"The godswood should be nice. And the guards already checked it for any wild animals, so there wouldn't be any unexpected encounters." She calmed him down.

"Sure, I'm free for now anyway."

"Then it's settled!" She smiled.

The stables were just as Michael remembered, smelling like unwashed animals and horse shit. Somehow, Lyanna liked the smell.

"It's the smell of freedom!" She argued.

"It's a smell of a plague waiting to happen if they weren't daily washed." Michael stated as a matter of fact.

She, of course, ignored him.

After a quick talk to the stable boy, the two got on their horses. Lyanna got on her favorite mare Breeze while Michael got on the stallion who seemed to care the less about Michael, Buttercup. And no, Michael doesn't know who the heck was responsible for the name, but they should be fired.

In less than half an hour, the two were already inside the godswood.

"Come on Michael, faster!" Lyanna yelled from the top of her mare, a few good feet ahead of Michael. "If you keep being so slow, me and Breeze will have to leave you behind!"

"Can't you- Just- Wait up for a second!" Michael was trying his best to catch up, without falling from his horse. "Not all of us are as good at riding as you!"

"All I hear are excuses!" She did slow down a bit, however.

In the end, they reached the heart of the godswood, ending the race that they apparently had with Lyanna as the clear victor. Dismounting of their horses, the two sat and looked at the heart tree in the middle of the woods. It's leaves as bloody red as usual, and the creepy face on the tree crying tears of blood.

"You know that Old Nun told me that people used to come here to talk with the old gods? She said that men can't lie in front of the heart tree, because the gods know when men lie." Lyanna suddenly spoke. "They would make blood sacrifices for boons."

Michael had the opinion that he had enough excitement with that wolf attack, bloodthirsty gods weren't on his resume. He of course kept his thoughts to himself, people rarely reacted well when someone had a different opinion on their gods.

"Do you think gods are real?" She continued, face turning to him.

"I… What brought that question?" the suddenness of it all caught him by surprise. This was so uncharacteristic for the usually carefree girl.

"Don't change the subject."

Okay… did he? All the people Michael met worshiped the old gods, or at least acknowledged them like the bard. But what was Michael's stance?

"Lake any loyal man of the north, I-"

"Please be honest with me." She stopped him. "I need your honest opinion."

Damn it, he could never lie to her. Not for lack of trying, but because she always caught on. Michael blamed it on all the times they… danced around the truth when someone questioned the shady dealings they had. Which by no means involved illegal smuggling ring of pastries which was distributed in the castle to the higher bidder of the not-adults, with a fifth going to Wintertown for the poor. The good thing was that he could read her just as good.

"I… Believe that there is something at higher powers that's watching over us. What it is, how it's called, and if it's a single thing or not are beyond me." How could he not, he was pretty sure the same thing wanted him dead. "But I also believe that we live our own life, and not some lifeless characters in some third rated story made by a talentless higher being for the amusement of other equally tasteless beings if they continue to read said story."

"Now why the sudden question? You usually immediately want to start our training." Michael gestured at the two wooden practice swords that he carried with him.

"I still can't believe that you managed to smuggle those under the eyes of every guard at the yard." Lyanna mumbled.

"Oh, I didn't. I made two exact replicas at the workshop in the smithy." Michael admitted. "There is an equipment count at the end of the day, carrying anything from there is just a needless risk."

"But now you're the one stalling. What's up?" He wouldn't let her slip this time.

"I… I had a dream." Lyanna admitted. "It was strange. There were dragons and wolves and blue people, I think. It was just so strange and so real, I think that I was a wolf for a while? It just sounded like a message from the old gods in old Nun's tales."

"I had a strange repeating dream too." Michael admitted. "I was chased by a murderer of crows across the town as they yelled at me to die. I think that it may be because a murder had tried to kill me when I was less than a year old. I don't remember a thing, but the trauma stayed."

"So this is why you avoid going to the raven's tower." Lyanna said in an understanding. "You're afraid of crows!"

"I'm not afraid!" Michael defended himself. "I'm… cautious."

Right in that moment, a caw was heard and Michael reflexively spun to a random direction with hand getting ready to protect his face.

"Aha, not afraid, sure." Lyanna so unhelpfully commented.

"Shut up…" He mumbled "Anyway, ever since I got that necklace, the number of dreams I had dropped significantly."

Michael proceeded to show the charm he got after he strangled that snake, still as pristine as the day he got it.

"I still don't believe that you managed to kill a snake with your bare hands at three namedays." Lyanna stated.

"I wouldn't have believed it either." Michael admitted. "But everyone around me told it happened, they had no reason to lie. Besides, a lie like that would have easily been discovered."

"Do you have any more charms laying around?" Lyanna asked, not with much hope.

"No, but you can have mine." Michael stated.

"Wait, really?" The Stark girl asked surprised. "But what about you then?"

Michael did think about it. And frankly, he really didn't want to be away from his charm. But the Stark's needs were more important than his, that's what he's been educated since birth. If he liked it or not was unimportant. Besides, with all the time he spends with Lyanna, the charm isn't really that far from him.

"I'm a big boy, it may be time to stop sleeping with a stuffed toy for me." Michael made an excuse. He knew that Lyanna's righteous nature would forbid her to accept it if he said that she was more important than him.

"No, I can't take it." She shook her head. "It's more than just a trinket for you, you don't need to hide it for my expanse. I will find something else."

"How about a compromise then." Michael suggested. "You borrow it for a few days while we search for another charm to buy?"

"I can't go out of the castle." Lyanna stated.

"But I can." He countered. "I will find something for you and then we can swap. Sounds fair?"

"Fine." She relented. "But the moment you get another nightmare I give you this back, no questions asked."

"Sure." Michael handed her the charm, he felt as if a part of him was missing. "Swords than?"

"Please!"

Well, let it never be said that he kept a lady waiting.

"I still think you're cheating." Lyanna accused him as they returned their horses. She wasn't too pleased that she couldn't manage a single win.

"Lyanna, I'm much taller, stronger, and most importantly have actual fighting experienced." Michael reasoned. "It would take you much, much more time if you want to beat me."

"So you're admitting that you're cheating!" She exclaimed.

"Yes, my lady. It's exactly what I said." Michael rolled his eyes. He usually would have never acted so freely, even with Ned there is a clear distinguish between the status of the two, but with Lyanna it just felt so natural. She had that personality. Benjen too, but his age had a big part of this.

"Well, in any case, I promised Ned to meet him for a little lesson in hand-to-hand combat, so I have to go." Michael informed her

"Oh! Can I join?" Lyanna asked excitedly.

"Lyanna, I don't think that it's a good idea." Michael said with a little apprehension. "You can get really hurt, I'm not sure that I can hold back my punches."

"Are you saying that I'm weak?" She asked in a dangerous tone.

Michael's response was to put his hands on her sides and effortlessly pick her up. He thought about maybe throwing her up and down like a baby, but he didn't have the strength yet. Ignoring her protests, he made his point.

"I'm saying that what I'll work on with Ned doesn't apply on you." He said as he put her down. "Ned and you are built differently, you aren't going to overpower most assaulting grown man. I know how to teach people to fight like me, but I can't think of something to help you with. The sword practice we're doing should be good enough, I can see on adding something there if you want to."

"Fine." Lyanna grumbled with a small blush. "Just never do it again, dad may actually kill you."

"Got it."

"Say, are you excited about the tryouts next week?" Lyanna asked as they walked. "It's finally your chance to be a guard like you wanted!"

"A little." Michael admitted. "It's not like I have a reason to worry about my skill level, I know that I'll be probably the best of the bunch, but I'm still a little nervous."

And wasn't that right, it was just his only dream since he knew himself, no pressure in screwing things over.

"Don't worry, you got this!" Lyanna said supporting. "I'll cheer for you."

It did lesson some of the nervousness.

AN

And that's the end of the chapter, hope you enjoyed and please write what you thought.

I'm a bit unhappy with how I portrayed Brandon here, I wanted to paint him a a hotheaded brat but he kinda became a bully through the writing. Then again, I guess that with kids the two things are very similar.

anyway, for the reviews:

02cjd :

thank you!

It's mostly the position, yes. In medieval society there was a very clear hierarchy in which Michael is at the very bottom and Lyanna is at the very top. But it was mostly about how easily she managed to get her dad, the most powerful man in that half of the entire continent, to do her bidding. It's equivalent for the run in the mill thug to be afraid of the godfather's daughter.

Pablo The Blue Penguin :

Thank you!

Engineer1869 :

Thanks.

No problem.

Most obviously. to be frank, as far as Rickard (lord Stark) is concerned, the tests are just a formality for Michael. He had also has some plans for Michael if the later continues to impress him. The Bard is having his time, that's for sure.