The ride from the Stony Shore to Winterfell had been long, but neither Benjen nor Harrold minded the journey. The North stretched vast and untamed before them, and the sight of Winterfell's high walls and rising towers was always a welcome one. The summons from Lord Rickard Stark had been unexpected, but neither hesitated. Brandon had gone ahead, ensuring preparations for their arrival.

Lord Rickard welcomed them warmly, the halls of Winterfell brimming with the scent of burning wood and roasting meats. That evening, after the brief pleasantries of their arrival had passed, the four men gathered in the Lord's solar—a place of quiet authority, where decisions that shaped the North were made. The great hearth burned bright, casting flickering shadows across the stone walls adorned with tapestries of House Stark's long and storied history.

Rickard leaned forward, his hands clasped before him. His gray eyes, sharp as ever, settled first on Harrold. "I hear good things about the Stony Shore," he began, voice even. "Tell me, what progress have you made?"

Harrold let a small smile curve his lips. "There is much to tell, my lord. But first, a surprise." He turned his gaze to Benjen, then Brandon, his amusement barely concealed. "I received word from our surveyors just before we departed. The mountains of the Stony Shore… they contain gold."

A beat of silence followed. Then, Brandon let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "Gold?" he repeated. "Are you certain?"

"More than certain," Harrold affirmed, his voice carrying an edge of satisfaction. "From their initial findings, it is no small amount."

Benjen grinned, though the weight of the revelation had yet to settle fully upon him. "That means… the castle I wanted… it can be built?"

Harrold clapped him on the shoulder. "You can have your castle without a single worry over cost. The gold will more than pay for it."

Rickard let out a slow breath, nodding in approval. "This is a great fortune," he admitted. "But remember, Benjen—you are a Stark, not a Lannister."

Benjen's grin faded slightly, and he met his father's gaze with a solemn nod. "I will always be a Northman, Father."

Rickard studied him a moment longer before he was satisfied, then turned his attention back to Harrold. "Tell me about these surveyors. How reliable are they? And how deep does the vein run?"

Harrold leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "The men who conducted the survey are among the best. They estimate that the gold vein runs deep through the mountain range. We'll need to set up proper mining operations, but it could be one of the richest deposits in the North."

Brandon's brow furrowed as he considered this. "If the gold is plentiful, it will attract attention—both from within the North and beyond. We have always been left alone because we had little to tempt the greed of others. This changes that."

Rickard nodded in agreement. "A wise observation. Have you thought about how we will secure it?"

Harrold's expression was calm, confident. "Yes. Initially, I will establish magical wards around the mine—ones that will make anyone not privy to the secret ignore its existence entirely. It will simply become an unremarkable part of the landscape to them. In addition, I will deploy a contingent of legionnaires to the Stony Shore to ensure its protection. They will be under strict orders to remain discreet, and only those with a need to know will have full access to the site."

Rickard considered this, then nodded approvingly. "That is a clever approach. And once the gold is flowing, what is the plan for its use?"

Benjen answered before Harrold could. "It will be used to build the castle and the twin towns," he said, excitement in his voice. "And we will also buy ships—for both trade and defense."

Rickard raised a brow, glancing at Harrold. "Ships?"

Benjen turned to Harrold. "The teams at Orsus—will they allow me to have the ships modified?"

Harrold exhaled thoughtfully before responding. "I will consider it. While I will not provide the full Orsus package, I can authorize some modifications—navigation and communication systems, as well as certain defensive wards. However, offensive enhancements and propeller-based magic will not be given to anyone outside House Gryffindor, at least for now."

Benjen frowned slightly but nodded in understanding. "That is fair. And what of runes? Would I be able to create my own enhancements?"

Harrold smiled. "Once you are a master of runes, you are free to invent your own schemes. But that will take years of study and practice."

Benjen smirked. "I'll get there faster than you think."

Harrold chuckled, then turned back to Rickard. "We can speak more on the specifics later. There is much to plan, not just about the mine, but how the gold will be spent wisely."

Rickard gave a firm nod. "Agreed. For now, I am pleased with your foresight, but this is only the beginning."

Brandon, leaning back with an amused grin, gestured toward Benjen. "Well, little brother, it looks like your grand ambitions are finally becoming reality. Just don't let it all go to your head."

Benjen shot him a mock glare. "No promises."

The meeting continued, with discussions shifting to finer details of mining, defenses, and trade. But beneath it all, a new chapter for the North was beginning—one paved in gold, ambition, and the unyielding spirit of House Stark.

Benjen shifted slightly in his seat, his excitement clear. "Father, we've completed growing the weirwood trees required for the weather ritual. The ritual will be performed soon—we're just waiting for some people from Orsus to arrive and assist."

Rickard looked at him keenly. "Weather ritual… I've heard some talk of it, but I'd like more details. What exactly will this ritual do?"

Benjen glanced at Harrold, who gave him a small nod of permission before he continued. "We've grown weirwood trees in strategic places throughout the region, with one central tree in the middle of the Stony Shore. The ritual will create connections between these trees, forming a sort of invisible dome over the region. This dome will ward off the worst of the harsh weather, creating a stable and ideal climate for people to live in and for agriculture to flourish."

Brandon's brow furrowed as he considered this. "And this is permanent?"

Benjen nodded. "Yes, though it will take time to reach full strength. It's not just about blocking out the cold—it's about slowly improving the land itself. The ritual will work with the soil, enriching it and making it more suitable for farming. Right now, the stony soil makes widespread agriculture difficult, but within a decade, the land will be far more fertile."

Rickard exhaled, clearly impressed. "So, you're telling me that this ritual will make the Stony Shore a place where crops can actually grow?"

Benjen smiled. "Eventually. For now, we are still limited in what we can grow because the soil is still too shallow and rocky. We have to be careful in choosing our crops and focus on raising animals for the time being. But in the future, things will change."

Harrold added, "This will turn the Stony Shore from a hard, barely habitable land into one of the North's greatest assets. It won't happen overnight, but given time, it will thrive."

Rickard stroked his beard thoughtfully. "If you succeed, this will be one of the greatest transformations the North has ever seen. Keep me informed on the progress."

Benjen nodded. "Of course, Father. We will begin as soon as the people from Orsus arrive."

Brandon leaned back in his chair. "Well, little brother, if you pull this off, you'll be making history."

Benjen grinned. "That's the plan."

Benjen then shifted topics. "Speaking of trees, my friends from Orsus are bringing enough crystals to make as many magical seeds as possible, as well as seeds from a variety of trees, including species never seen in Westeros before. Most of them are fruit-bearing trees."

Brandon raised an eyebrow. "Fruit trees?"

Benjen nodded. "Yes, we plan to use them for the tree border. Once the weather ritual is complete, we will start planting them. The magical seeds will allow us to grow a tree every quarter mile along the border, making it a strong natural barrier. With Lyanna and my friends helping, we should be able to get started as soon as everything arrives."

Benjen turned to his older brother. "Are you still willing to help with the tree border?"

Brandon smirked. "You think I'd let you plant a massive border of trees without me? I'll come with you and make sure you don't plant them upside down."

Benjen chuckled. "Good. With all of us working together, we'll turn the Stony Shore into something the North has never seen before."

Harrold leaned forward, his expression thoughtful. "On another note, I've found foremen to oversee the construction efforts. With them in place, we can accelerate progress. But there's something else I want to discuss. I'm done hiding certain advancements from the world. It's time to share them—at least with the other lords of the North."

Rickard raised an eyebrow. "You mean at the Harvest Feast?"

Harrold nodded. "Yes. It would be the perfect occasion to unveil these developments. The North is ready for change."

Rickard considered this for a moment before nodding. "What kind of things do you plan to share?"

Harrold smiled. "Let's start with communication. I've developed a device that can transmit voices over long distances. No need for ravens, no need for messengers." He gestured toward Benjen, who took over the explanation.

Benjen leaned forward eagerly. "It's called a communicator. A magical device that can connect to another and carry voices between them. With it, we can send messages instantly, no matter the distance."

Rickard's expression darkened with realization. "That will change the world."

Harrold nodded. "Which is why I won't be giving it to anyone in the South. However, I am willing to let Ned have one." He paused before adding, "This is also a step toward getting rid of the Maesters. With these, we don't need them to send letters or rely on ravens for communication."

Rickard exhaled, rubbing his chin. "This will certainly disrupt the old ways… but perhaps it is time. What else do you intend to share?"

Harrold's eyes gleamed. "Clean water. I can use rune magic to create water springs that provide fresh, clean water. With enough effort, we can even set up pipes to deliver water directly into homes."

Rickard looked intrigued. "That would help with sanitation as well."

Benjen nodded eagerly. "Exactly. We can replace chamber pots with proper water-based toilets. By using magic to pump water into a storage tank, we can let natural forces guide it through pipes to where it needs to go. And with the right runes, we can even provide hot and cold water for bathing—showers indoors, much like what we've seen at Moat Cailin."

Rickard glanced at Harrold. "And you're ready to share this?"

Harrold smiled. "Yes. The North deserves it. We are strong, but it's time to become something more—something better."

Rickard gave a slow nod. "Then we'll prepare for the Harvest Feast. Let the lords of the North see what the future holds."

Rickard inhaled deeply, fingers tapping the wood of his chair's armrest. "Harrold, there is more I wanted to speak with you about than the matters of the Stony Shore. Once again, House Stark and the North need your counsel and aid."

Harrold, ever collected, tilted his head to one side. "I am always at your service, my lord. What troubles the North?"

Rickard sighed out through his nose, as if bracing himself. "The New Gift has been restored to the North. Night's Watch let it deserted and allowed to rot but now ours to rule. And yet it is nothing more than a desolate tract of land with ruins and scattered villages. We must determine what to make of it.

Benjen straightened, eyes bright with interest, as Brandon frowned thoughtfully, Harrold simply nodded for a moment before speaking, "A valuable asset, to say the least, your thoughts, Lord Stark?"

Rickard folded his hands. "I was thinking of a high lordship to rule over the area, much like Dragonstone being the seat of the heir to the Iron Throne. It could remain under House Stark and give stability and continuity. Under the high lord, we can set up several minor lordships to preside over parts of the land."

He leaned back in his chair, his mind moving over the proposal. His fingers drummed out the rhythm on the wooden table as he considered it. "A wise move," he said finally. "High lordship ensures direct control and supervision. Minor lordships will prove effective governance, but allows ambitious families to have something to shoot for."

Benjen was agreeing, but Brandon was dubious. "It's a grand scheme, but one that will break the bank. We are not wealthy enough to settle and develop both the Stony Shore and the New Gift simultaneously."

Rickard let out a sigh. "That is correct. We might have to think about requesting assistance from the Iron Bank."

Then Benjen stood upright. "If the gold mine pays well, I'll add my part too. The North has always survived, and this one shall be no exception."

Harrold smiled softly, smoothing his hair. "You don't have to worry. Since we are kin, I will tell you something that I hardly share with others—I am richer than the Lannisters are by a few times, and I don't see why my money won't keep multiplying. If the North needs funding, I will send it."

Brandon whistled softly, and Benjen's eyes actually opened wide in shock. While he knew Harrold is rich, he didn't know how rich, Rickard, though, just nodded as he knew due to the tax he received. "That's a good thing to know," he admitted. "But then even so, the expense of growth does not have to be borne by House Stark or even by you, Harrold. The lords of the North are far richer than they were a decade ago, thanks to trade, controlled weather, and advanced farming methods. They can help bear the cost.

Harrold smiled in approval. "Exactly. And the minor lordships we are to create shall bear part of the burden too. If they wish to hold land, they will have to invest in it."

Rickard nodded after a moment's thought. "That is reasonable. What do you propose?"

Harrold leaned forward. "Announce it at the Harvest Feast. Have the North's lords bear witness that the son of House Stark will be High Lord of the New Gift. Then, let proposals be made. Let those who wish to claim one of the lower lordships come forward and do so on behalf of their house."

Benjen thought about it. "But what if we receive nothing from inside the North?"

Harrold's eyes sparkled with mirth. "Then we look outside of it. Contact families still follow old gods such as Blackwoods, in the South. There are plenty who would relocate northward if offered the promise of land, especially under secure rule. If we select wisely as to which families we bring with us, it will make us even stronger."

Rickard nodded once again, his mind already focused on the details. "That would send a message—that the North is open for progress."

Harrold grinned. "Not only progress, my lord. The North is no longer the cold, barren wasteland the South fantasizes. It is expanding, prospering. This is the beginning of making it a real power in Westeros."

Brandon had sat with an introspective expression and finally broke his silence. "You know, Harrold, if we hadn't met all those years ago, all of this wouldn't have occurred."

Harrold looked at him, his face changing to something warmer, something more intimate. "Meeting you was the beginning of it all. The encouragement House Stark gave me was priceless. You were my first friend here, Brandon, and for that, I will ensure your seat is second to none."

Brandon snorted, though his eyes were warm. "You'd better. If you make me a lesser lord than Benjen, I'll never let you hear the end of it."

Laughter echoed through the solar, and for an instant, the burden of the North's future lightened a bit. But they all knew that the choices made in this room would be determining the North's fate for centuries to come.

The fire crackled in the hearth, casting long shadows across the walls of the solar. The air carried the scent of aged wood and fresh parchment, and the mood was one of deep contemplation. The previous discussions had set the stage for the North's future, but Harrold had one more topic to broach.

He cleared his throat, drawing the attention of Rickard, Brandon, and Benjen. "Before we finish, there are a few matters I've been thinking on for some time. This discussion on governance and land has provided the perfect opportunity to address them."

Rickard leaned forward, keenly listening. "Go on, Harrold. I take it this is important?"

Harrold nodded. "It is. The first matter is proper borders between regions and lords' lands. The second is our structure of lordships. If we are to separate the North further from the South, we must establish our own tiers of nobility, distinct from the titles used in the Seven Kingdoms."

Brandon raised an eyebrow. "You mean to change the titles?"

"Not just change them," Harrold clarified. "To refine them—to ensure the hierarchy is clear and suited to the North's needs. I propose that Lord Stark be styled as Grand Duke, with his heir taking the title of Duke. The high lords, those with their own banner lords such as Manderly, Bolton, and Reed, should be titled Marquess. Those sworn directly to Winterfell but without their own vassals, like the Karstarks and Hornwoods, should be called Earls. Minor lords sworn to a Marquess can take the title of Viscount."

Harrold continues after few moments of silense letting others absorb his proposal. "Baron should be a title reserved for those whom the Grand Duke chooses to elevate. A noble title granted as an honor, but it cannot be inherited—it remains for the lifetime of the one who earns it. This way, House Stark retains the ability to reward loyalty without upsetting the balance of inherited lordships."

Rickard sat back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "This… is a well-considered proposal. The North has always had its own customs, yet our nobility follows the same structure as the South. It makes sense to forge our own path. We will bring this forward at the Harvest Feast."

Brandon smirked. "So, Grand Duke Rickard Stark, is it? Has a good ring to it."

Rickard chuckled but did not argue. "If we are to reshape the North, we must ensure it stands apart from the rest of Westeros in more ways than just its weather."

Harrold nodded in satisfaction before shifting the conversation. "Now, onto the matter of borders. While working with Benjen on defining his lands, I realized something troubling—there are no clear borders between many of the existing lordships."

Rickard's expression darkened slightly. "Go on."

Harrold gestured towards the table, where a large map of the North lay unfurled. "For example, look here—between White Harbor, Ramsgate, and Oldcastle, there is vast land considered no man's land. There is enough space to support a new Marquessate. Similarly, land surrounding Widow's Watch remains underutilized. There is potential to better define our holdings, ensuring no land remains abandoned or disputed."

Rickard studied the map carefully. "You bring up a valid concern. The North is vast, but much of it is unclaimed in a structured sense. This land could be better used if properly divided."

Brandon frowned slightly. "That might lead to tensions, though. If we start carving out new territories, some families may feel they are losing out."

Harrold inclined his head. "That is why it must be done carefully. If we assign new lordships, they must be granted with careful consideration. No one should feel slighted, and each new lordship must serve a purpose."

Rickard nodded. "Agreed. We will move forward with caution. But your idea has merit. It would allow us to elevate loyal families, granting them land that was once considered unclaimed or worthless."

Harrold smiled. "Exactly. And if done right, this will strengthen the North considerably."

Rickard tapped the table thoughtfully. "Based on the noble structure you proposed, you would be considered an Earl, correct?"

Harrold inclined his head. "That would be my station, given my direct allegiance to House Stark."

Rickard exhaled and gave a firm nod. "Then let us elevate you further. I will grant you a minor lordship based on Portsmouth, making you a Marquess. You will have the freedom to choose a lord to serve under you for that land."

Benjen and Brandon exchanged surprised glances, while Harrold sat in thoughtful silence for a moment before offering a respectful nod. "That is an honor, my lord. I accept."

Rickard gave a rare smile. "You have done much for the North, Harrold. It is time we properly recognize that."

Harrold met Rickard's gaze, his voice filled with gratitude. "I will not let you down."

The fire crackled once more, its warmth filling the solar as the North's future was further shaped by the decisions made in this chamber.

Rickard, sensing Harrold's shift in demeanor, gestured for him to speak. "You have something more to discuss, Harrold?"

Harrold nodded. "Yes. It concerns Eddard's southern holdings—Harrenhal."

Harrold exhaled, choosing his words carefully. "Cursed or not, the land itself is valuable. It is some of the richest in the Riverlands. More importantly, it holds control over the God's Eye, one of the holiest places to those who follow the Old Gods. Right now, Eddard has left the stewardship to a man appointed by Lord Tully, and while no one has contested his claim because his wife's mother was late lord Whent's sistser, he has done little with it."

Rickard's brows furrowed as he leaned forward. "I have had similar thoughts, Harrold. While Eddard may not desire power, the fact remains that Harrenhal is his by right. It should not remain in the hands of an Andal-appointed steward. The God's Eye is too important to the faith of the North to be left under southern control."

Harrold nodded. "Exactly my point, my lord. With proper management, that land can generate wealth beyond imagining. Eddard will be able to demolish the ruins of Harrenhal and build something new in its place. A keep free of its cursed past. If the North is to hold influence in the South, then Harrenhal is the key."

Benjen scratched his chin. "But will Ned even agree? He's always been more concerned with honor and duty rather than wealth."

Harrold smirked. "Honor and duty are well and good, but ensuring his family's future is also important. If we frame it as a duty to the Old Gods, protecting the God's Eye, he will listen."

Rickard sat in silence for a moment before nodding. "You're right. Eddard has been too passive with his claim. After the Harvest Feast, we will travel to King's Landing and speak with him on the matter. If he refuses to see the value in it, I will remind him of his duty to the North and our gods."

Brandon chuckled. "A gentle reminder, I'm sure."

Rickard shot his son a dry look before turning back to Harrold. "You mentioned something about the capital? You have another proposal?"

Harrold took a deep breath. "Yes. The Old Gods do not have much visibility in King's Landing. The South is filled with septs, but not a single proper Godswood stands in the capital."

Benjen looked intrigued. "You mean to change that?"

Harrold nodded. "I propose we ask King Robert to lease us the Dragonpit. The ruin serves no purpose but to remind people of the Targaryens' fall. It is an eyesore and a waste of space. If we were given leave, I could demolish it, plant a weirwood, and establish a proper Godswood in its place. And we can add more buildings for our use like a mansion for visiting northern lords to reside, an orphanage where we can recruit them young as future citizens of the North, shops and many more."

Rickard's gaze sharpened. "A bold idea, Harrold. One that I like."

Harrold smiled. "It is more than just faith, my lord. A Northern Godswood and other ventures in the capital would serve as a foothold. A place where the North is represented, a space of our own in King's Landing. If ever Eddard needs assistance, having a secure place where our people can gather will be invaluable. Right now, he is there alone, without proper support. I don't like that."

Brandon's expression grew serious. "Neither do I. The South is a viper's nest. Ned needs allies, not just political ones, but people who are unquestionably loyal. If we establish this stronghold, it can become a gathering place for Northerners in the capital. A home away from home for those who serve him."

Rickard sat back, mulling over the idea. "King Robert will need convincing. The Dragonpit was once the seat of Targaryen power in the city. Many will not want it touched."

Harrold chuckled. "Robert has no love for the Targaryens. If we frame it as removing another piece of their legacy, he may be inclined to agree. And if that does not work, we remind him of the practical benefits—turning a crumbling ruin into something of value. Also we will remind him that he is the king of Andals and the firstmen."

Rickard nodded in approval. "Then after the Harvest Feast, we will travel to King's Landing. We will speak with Eddard and then approach the King about this Godswood. It is time the North left its mark on the capital."

Benjen grinned. "I wouldn't mind seeing the look on the faces of the southerners when they realize a piece of the North has taken root in their city."

Harrold smirked. "Then let's make it happen."

With the decision made, the future of the North's influence in the South began to take shape.

-Break-

AN – If you recognize anything, they don't belong to me. Please note that I am using AI to help me write the story. If the words, dialogue feel little off, that's the reason. I simply do not have the time, energy or the talent to write without AI. If I did, I would publish my own book. I am writing because it makes me happy and hope you will find it interesting. If not, there are plenty of other talented writers and many amazing stories to read.