Eddard

... Jaime's brows were dismissively raised, but his eyes held genuine bewilderment that Ned had never seen in them therebefore.

'What are we doing?', they were asking, yet Ned was far too bewildered himself to know. Again, he shifted his gaze towards the clamorous valley. Jaime had already had his sword halfway unsheathed, risking a clash with so many of these creatures, however, seemed at least unwise, no matter how significant it might have been to learn who they were.

Suddenly he heard the crunching of branches not far behind and understood someone was crushing them with heavy treading of footsteps. Ned's body tensed all over. Astonishment had bemisted their alertness, he comprehended for an instant and, clasping his hand even more tightly on the hilt, turned in a twinkling as Lannister did the same. Six creatures were approaching them, like black shadows emerging from the wood's darkness, scimitars curved as moon's ends or short, broad-bladed swords prest in their hands. Iron helmets on their heads only partly hid the strange, ugly and harsh faces.

"Ah, Ragnak, d'you see? Are they not warriors, how does it seem to you?" one of the creatures, the scrawny and the tallest of their party, spoke mockingly, belike to one of his companions particularly, yet still in the tongue Ned might understand and gazing at him, his eyes glittering just as acridly as the rings of his mail. "No local savages, for sure. See their garments! These are the ones from the guardhouses at the ice wall. Rangers!" he mocked even more.

"He'd will us not to be seen by them just yet," the other, possibly the one named Ragnak, said, and Ned at once began to wonder who this 'he' might have been. Who were they, by the gods? "Do not get too close to the Wall - such were the orders." There was less mockery in this one than in the first, and more anxiety. They as well seem to be off-guard by meeting us here, Ned thought. What makes them not any less dangerous. He glanced fleetingly behind to notice how the other creatures, having heard the voices, started towards them, climbing up from the bottom of the basin.

"They got too close to us, it seems," the first said. "Therefor safest to make them as dead as logs - the faster, the better." He chuckled harshly, adjusting his scimitar's hilt in his black hand.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Ned gave it a try and demanded, yet ere he might have been answered, Ragnak already met swift death by Jaime's blade. Eddard took a brief glance at Lannister, whose eyes even now held amusement. 'Do they truly look like ones to negotiate with to you, Stark?', they were scoffing at his questions, and Ned agreed inwardly, unsheathing amain his own sword.

The clash with all of these creatures, however, was still as a madness as it had appeared in the beginning, and it was only growing worse with each passing moment. They were much shorter than both of them, yet not a whit weaker, their fighting skills and art also nought that Ned had hitherto known, fiercer and wilder than the wildings', heavier than Braavosi, yet their moves equally quick and fleet-footed, senses and reactions nigh animalistically deft. Even Lannister in his battle arrogance, albeit doing well, could feel it, Ned flickeringly noticed. We will not make it out alive, flashed through his mind as his sword plunged into one of the creatures chest, yet another at the same time grided his shoulder from behind, and pain pierced Ned's whole body like a levin. He turned immediately to merely see, unconsciously and as though through a fog, as Jaime's upraised blade glittered silvery, then fell with all its might on the foe's head, cutting it in half along with the helmet and the body down to the waist. The creature's blood sprayed at Ned like fountain.

He was mouthing his silent thankfulness whenas something fairly strange happened. The creatures around all of a sudden lost both interest in them and the verve for fighting, their bodies as though shrinking and sinking into themselves. The air swelled with fear.

Lannister was the first to understand the reason of their queer behaviour. "Seven hells!" he nearly held his breath and began to stare somewhere to the south, behind Ned's back, his eyes glowing in the dark like jewels, seemingly enthralled. "Look at that!"

Ned realised the creatures had begun to look thither as well, and, with difficulty, he turned. Stunned at once, he stared, mistrusting his senses, assuming the pain was blinding him, robbing him of clarity of seeing. In the twilight of the woods he beheld a dark figure, the face cloaked by the hood, who was fighting the creatures... no, dancing there with a sword in the hand glowing black, faster than wind, fiercer than flames. Ned had therebefore seen no being even close to wielding a blade like that, the swordsmanship so unflawed and wild that it made the show both ferly and horrible, well nigh a madness. And the figure itself seemed mad as well, its slashes so merciless, swift, devoid of even a shade of hesitation, cutting the creatures as effortlessly as tree branches obstructing its path. Only a mere moment had passed whenas the whole creatures' party was dispersed, most of them lying dead, the others fled into the murk of the forest. Eddard forgot his pain entirely and looked at Lannister in his blank wonderment.

Jaime was quicker to go back to his senses to ask, though still in a haze and his eyes not leaving the figure, "Who are you, and to whom do we owe such help? I have never expected to meet a man so skillful with sword behind the Wall, more than the finest Seven Kingdoms' knights?"

"I am not a dweller of these lands, a wilding as you name them," the darkness from beneath the hood, a proud and nearly scornful voice, answered him after a moment ere the figure slipped it off and at last walked closer to them. Ned could then see the man's face and at once he knew that he spoke the truth: it was impossible to deem him a wilding. His eyes, now darker than they must have been by daylight, were grim and full of post-fight anger, yet his face was bright, beautiful and noble nonetheless, and he did look lordly enough. Not even Rhaegar after the Trident was close to look like a king the way this one does, suddenly came to Ned's head and the thought surprised him.

"The same way I am not one of your knights," the man also said, any less scornfully. Thereafter, he lost even that whit of interest in them he had mustered up before, and shifted his gaze into the distance whereto the creatures had fled, then moved it again, behind himself now, to speak as though to the black silhouettes of trees, in a tongue Ned might not understand, "I need to chase them down."

The gloom of the wood swayed and Eddard eftsoons grasped that there were more of them than only him. Another cloaked figure came out from behind the trees, limping clumsily and aiding himself with a bough-stick. His movements made Ned somehow assume that he would be older, therefor as his hood fell back, he was nearly astonished how young the comer's face still was, thinner and less handsome than the other man's, yet far more benign. He glanced fleetingly at Ned and his eyes glittered almost apologetically ere he walked close to his comrade. "They are far gone now and tracing them under the darkness of trees will only be a waste of time. Torandir told us to cross the Wall as soon as possible," he said quietly.

The other man turned to him abruptly, irritation plain on his face. "Torandir is not one to rule me, whoever he is!" he spat.

The third figure left the murk then and approached swiftly the other two, with steps small and touching the ground as lightly as a doe. A woman!, Ned recognised whenas she said, "Brandir speaks wisely, leave that be!".

Therewithal she grabbed her companion firmly by the arm, yet as soon as he turned his eyes to her little hand touching him, she amain let go, gasted, as though the arm had nettled her. She took a few careful steps back and, having turned slowly towards Jaime and Ned, pulled down her hood. Eddard's eyes widened as it seemed to him a white bloom blossomed suddenly in the gloom of the haunted forest, its petals touching softly his whole body and soul, making them shiver.

"I am Daeneth, daughter of Alnad, and here are my brothers, Úben and Hwinn. Bless me with your names as well if you will! Who are you, lords?" she asked and there was no hint of nervousness or fright in her now, her voice well-nigh commanding.

She was beautiful, and there was something so uncommonly pure and noble about her that Ned might not take his eyes off. Only whenas he realised he had been staring, he became confused, angry with himself, and lowered his gaze. He felt a sudden urge to lean against the tree, the pain in his shoulder returning fiercely and the view growing foggy before his eyes.

Lannister smirked, casting a fleeting glance toward him ere he bowed to the woman. "Forgive, lady, but my lord commander has been sore wounded in battle and seems unfit to give proper account of himself. He is Eddard Stark, and I am Jaime Lannister. We both are sworn brothers of the Night's Watch."

The lady exchanged a glance with her brother, whom afore she had named Hwinn, and he stepped closer to Ned. His figure and the sympathetic smile he wore swayed before Eddard's eyes as he struggled mightily to keep himself from falling into darkness.

"Who are you? Whence do you come?" he asked faintly.

"Wayfarers are we, from olde tales long since lost to memory, it would seem," said Hwinn with his little smile lingering. "Yet be assured, we are not enemies of yours. You best sit yourself down now, for even in this meager light I see you are pale. Let us kindle a fire, and show me your arm. I am a healer, and it is best to swiftly see what the blade of Orcs has left behind. Their poisons are as old as we, and perhaps far deadlier than those you are familiar with."

"Orcs?" Jaime echoed, his curiosity roused, as he turned his gaze to the second of lady Daeneth's brothers, who stood yet steadfast, staring into the shadowed woods, as though warring within himself what course to take. "Is that what those creatures are called?"

Úben, after a time, did look at Lannister, nodding slowly and reluctantly, ere he walked near to Ned, casting his eyes downward upon him as Hwinn began to tend his shoulder.

"Are you the brother of Brandon Stark, Lord of Winterfell?" he asked sternly and somehow impatiently.

Ned lifted his head, his face alight with newfound astonishment.

Soorry, I know it's taken awfully long :( Ty for reading! :) Next POV: Rhaegar, then Beleg