The Wall 2

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(circa 295AC)

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“Did we… did I do the right thing?” I lifted my head slowly, not wanting to disturb my pup. After feeding him some milk from a soaked cloth, he’d finally settled down to sleep in my lap. While that left me trapped where I was, the sight of him drinking the milk and moving around before sleeping made up for my current predicament.

Before I saw Robb, who’d been the one to speak, I saw Rian. He was perched on a stand, preening his feathers as Robb and I sat on our cots. While Rian didn’t enjoy being cooped up inside, it was better than him spending the night outside in the cold, or Maester Aemon’s rookery. Though thinking on the Maester had me wondering why Rian had warmed to the blind Targaryen so soon as to let him pet him, he was highly selective about who could do so with even Ty being rejected on occasion and she’d been with me when we’d found him as a wounded chick.

Robb was still feeding his pup, squeezing the milk-soaked cloth tightly to allow the milk to drip down into the pup’s waiting mouth. This milk was coming from the glands of the mother as Oberyn had managed to locate and remove them from the dead direwolf. We had enough for another few days, which should help us get to Last Hearth, but after that, we’d need to wean milk from bitches belonging to the Umbers. The milk had been heated before being soaked in the cloth, and when Robb was finished, he placed his with mine in the pan. There’d still be some left for late as the pups would likely wake during the night, calling out for more milk, though in the morning we’d have to wash and resoak them before we left to ensure the pups were well-fed for the journey.

“I would say we did,” I replied, one of my fingers gently stroking my pup’s back, enjoying the way he reacted to the contact.

A faint sound from his pup had Robb looking down at it before he spoke again. “No. I mean… about their mother.”

“Oh.” I looked up at the roof of our room to collect my thoughts. “Honestly, I cannot say. I mean, burning the whole body with the dead pups might have been the right choice, at least in the eyes of the Gods, but then we would have wasted the fur. I think what you chose was the best choice based on the time we had, and I think your father will agree.”

There had been no way we could bring the carcass back to Winterfell, the thing would’ve rotted before we could reach Last Hearth. Nor was I going to allow the Night’s Watch to strip the mother to her bones for meat. Thus we, and by that, I meant Robb since he was the heir to Winterfell, and with me offering some strong-worded advice to the black brother who suggested harvesting the meat, had made the call on what to do with the body, and that of the dead pups.

Apart from the horrible suggestion about harvesting the direwolf’s meat, there’d been a few other suggestions put forward. Most would’ve seen the Night’s Watch keeping all, or almost all, the harvested parts. Both Oberyn and I argued strongly against that since it was my actions that discovered the body, and not that of any member of the Watch. In the end, Robb had chosen to burn the body, though not before it was skinned, de-clawed and we removed its head. Those parts would be taken back to Winterfell with the final action on them being left up to Ned. The rest of the carcass, and that of the pups, was burnt. The Night’s Watch wanted to just leave the remains for other animals to eat, but I had argued passionately against that. While I’d used the point of allowing the sigil of House Stark to be butchered by animals as my public reason, I was concerned an Other might appear and raise a zombie-direwolf and pups; and that was an image that needed to stay in the deepest parts of my nightmares.

“I hope you are correct,” Robb began before the pup in his lap coughed slightly before pulling back for the dripping milk-soaked cloth. “Though I am more worried he will not let me keep this guy.” He added as he moved slowly, making sure not to disturb the pup as it started to settle on his furs, and dropped the cloth in the pan with mine.

I moved carefully, not wanting to disturb the black mass sleeping in my lap, and placed a hand on his shoulder. When he looked at me, I spoke. “I doubt he will refuse you, though your mother might argue against it.” He inhaled sharply at that, though I smiled to reassure him as I continued. “But she will not succeed. Oberyn has already said I can keep mine, so you can use that to persuade Uncle Ned. All that needs to be said is why can a bastard keep a direwolf pup if the heir to Winterfell cannot?” I expected Catelyn to argue that I shouldn’t, but Oberyn would delight in shooting down how he raised me, and what gifts I was allowed, not being her concern.

Robb laughed softly. “Aye, that is true.”

A gentle knock at the door stopped any further conversation. It opened slowly, trying to avoid making the wood or hinges groan, which meant whoever it was, knew that we had the pups. A second later Oberyn’s head slid round the edge of the door. “Are you and the pups well?”

“We are, and you have my thanks for your help today, Prince Oberyn,” Robb replied, showing he understood the rules of the game. Though Oberyn waved him off even as a smile came across his face.

“There is no need to call me prince, young lordling. Your cousin is my son in all but blood, while my eldest daughter is your goodaunt. To me, that makes us family.” He laughed softly, his eyes wandering down as the black mass in my lap moved. “Besides, the sight of seeing how your family and mine react to those little fellows is reward enough.”

I laughed gently, in return, being careful to not disturb the pup. “Aye, I do wonder how my mother will react to seeing this guy bounding off the Windchaser.”

Oberyn’s smile grew. “I doubt she will complain about him too much. More likely she will try to skin your hide for going north of the Wall.”

“True. I believe I have to be sure and remind her that you allowed it, father.”

Oberyn clutched his chest as if suffering a heart attack. “You wound me, son.” I hear Robb chuckle once then stop, probably as he was worried about disturbing his pup as it settled in for the night. Oberyn looked over at my cousin. “Still, as it seems the little ones have had their fill, I suggest getting some rest. No doubt they will wish to be fed during the night, and you will need your rest if we are to leave after the first meal tomorrow.”

“Yes, father.” “Yes, Prince Oberyn.”

As the door closed, I gently slid my hands under the furs my pup was snoozing on. With that done, I slid down into the furs, then settled him down near me. Though I made sure to not place him too close in case either of us rolled while we slept. I’d never forgive myself if I killed the pup by rolling onto him during the night. Once we were on our way, I’d probably spend the time not fretting about the pup but considering a name for him. So far, Akela and Shadow were floating around my head, and while continuing the naming tradition from the Jungle Book held some appeal, I wasn’t sure Akela fit the black mass that was now bonded to me.

I was curious what Robb would name his wolf. Its markings were close to Grey Wind’s so, it was possible he’d just use the name again, but I was hoping he wouldn’t. it felt odd to call anyone but Grey Wind by that name, however, the choice was up to Robb.

As Robb doused the lamp providing light in the room, I wondered when I’d next return to the Wall. Apart from the quest linked to it, and the one for the Old Gods, I wanted to speak with Maester Aemon more as I hadn’t managed to get him to reveal his heritage. Still, with the pup at my side, I considered the trip more than worth it.

That said, I did hope to delay returning to the Wall until it was absolutely necessary, either because of the Wildlings or the Others. It was an incredible place, but the constant cold was irritating and it lacked the warmth of Ty as she rested beneath the sheets.

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I was woken sometime later by a gentle pressure in my mind. I opened my eyes slowly, and then feeling the small bundle of warmth lying against me, shifted around to see what had forced me awake. It didn’t take long to work it out as Rian was staring at me intently. He tilted his head and then flicked it toward the door.

“Give me a minute,” I said quietly to not wake Robb or the pups. I had to bend in ways my sleep-addled body didn’t enjoy to avoid disturbing my pup, though I couldn’t help but smile warmly as he shifted toward where I’d been when he felt me move. I pulled the sheets over him, wanting to ensure he stayed warm and slid on my socks before standing. The floor wasn’t heated, and I’d rather not repeat my mistake of the first night here of waking and stepping onto the floor without something between it and my feet. I had little idea what time it was, though the faint sounds coming from beyond the door suggested the guards were, at least, still there.

Not wanting to step out into the cold unprepared, I slid on my garb, though not my armour as I planned to simply let Rian go and then return to my room. For a moment I considered not bothering to take my dagger – the same one Oberyn had given me for my nameday nearly a decade ago – and Red Rain, but dismissed the thought with a quiet snort of derision and attached them to my waist. The only piece of armour I did add was my vambraces as even with my furs on my arm, I could still feel Rian’s claws through them, along with padded trousers. I completed the lazy look with some gloves that, while thick, didn’t stop me from opening doors or gripping my sword’s hilt.

Rian hopped over onto my forearm when I offered it to him, and as I started walking toward the door, he tapped his beak against my skull. I’d learnt the gesture was his way of saying thanks though I didn’t enjoy it when he tried to preen my hair as his beak tended to pull hairs from my head.

Outside the door, two Stark guards stood, one glanced at me, though once he realised I wasn’t Robb, he turned back to stare down the corridor. While they were there to protect Robb, I knew that they would also offer some safety to the pups if any black brother tried to kill them. Though there was only one I felt would try it and, if he did, I’d enjoy splitting Roryn Drumm from neck to balls. A little further down the corridor were two Martell guards standing outside Oberyn’s room. One moved to come with me, but I waved him off. “I’m just going to let Rian out for a flight then come back. No need for protection.” The guard thought about protesting, but an elbow from the other stayed his tongue, and they let me pass without incident.

It took about a minute to reach the outer door, and even if I’d been unsure of the way, the whistling of the wind as it rocketed past the thick wooden door would’ve guided me there was ease. I braced myself as I pushed it open only to then grunt as the cold air slammed into my face. It wasn’t that windy, but the temperature was barely above freezing.

The first rays of sunlight were just reaching Castle Black as I stepped outside, making the Wall glow an ethereal lilac that only enhanced its magical nature. My gaze was pulled from the mesmerising sight as Rian flapped his wings, the tip just catching my head due to his size before he took off into the air. The wind in the castle helped him climb quickly, though he still moved toward a nearby building to catch an updraft.

I considered drifting into his mind but decided against it. Maybe once I was back inside I might, but I wasn’t going to do it while I was outside and not dressed to survive the weather for more than a short time. I turned back to the door, reaching out for it with one hand when Rian called out loudly, both in the air and inside my mind. I stopped mid-step and turned my head, wondering what was wrong only to blink as something shot past me. it missed my flesh, but caught the edge of my furs, trapping my hand against the door.

Even as I braced a foot to rip the arm free, my head snapped around to where the arrow had come from. There, in the shadow of a building was a black brother. His face was covered by a hood though it was clear he was the one attacking me as he was quickly nocking another arrow. My free right hand grabbed the arrow shaft before snapping it as I snarled at the unprovoked attack.

I ripped the sleeve of my arm free, turned and dropped, as I pulled my dagger in the same motion. The next arrow was coming soon and at this distance, my only hope was to move erratically enough that it missed anything vital. I watched the figure pull back the drawstring, yet just as the arrow was loose, a large shape fell from the clouds.

Rian made a high-pitched whistle as his claws came round, catching the bow at the perfect moment. The arrow came loose though it flew away harmlessly as his claws gripped the top of the bow and drawstring. The figure flung an arm up, forcing Rian to pull back, but in the process, it caused his hood to fall away revealing my attacker to be Roryn Drumm.

As Rian pulled back into the air, Roryn turned his bow toward him and I felt an inferno of rage surge through my veins. I roared and moved toward him, my left hand ripping Red Rain from its sheath. That brought Roryn’s focus back to me before he could launch an arrow at the rapidly retreating Rian. I saw claw marks on the bow as he turned, and the drawstring dropping loosely, giving a sign of the strength of Rian’s claws.

Roryn tossed the bow to one side, and then as one arm pulled a shield from his back the other yanked an axe from his belt. While the cloak was still on him, the movements let the sun’s morning light glint off his armour. I tightened the grips on my weapons, trusting in the fact Red Rain could cut through leather and chainmail – which appeared to be what he was wearing – with ease to bring the fight back in my favour, though I’d not yet tried it against plate steel.

Roryn braced his shield, hiding like a coward behind the wooden circular frame. Reflections came from the edge and centre of the shield as I closed in. Something clicked in my mind that the metal and wood of the shield might be able to catch Red Rain if it bit in. Through my need to make him taste his own blood, I wondered if he had a plan for countering Valyrian steel.

“That blade is mine!” Roryn roared from behind his shield as he started moving forward; slowly like the coward he was. “And after I pay the Iron Price for it, I will be leaving this shithole and reclaiming my home!”

My first reply came via Red Rain as I swung the blade in a wide arc. The tip slashed the front of his shield, leaving a large scratch in the surface, enough to drive him back slightly. “Your home is gone!” I called as I brought the blade around again in an arc. “Your family is gone!” he tilted his shield, trying to get my blade to catch the edge, though I shifted my stance so it left another gash in the wood. “And soon you shall join them!”

Roryn’s axe lashed out from below the shield, looking to catch my left arm. I was forced to hop back, growling at the issues I was having with Red Rain. I’d trained with a multitude of weapons over the years but Red Rain was a short blade with most of its weight concentrated in the tip, perfect for devastating cuts amidst the close tight in-fighting of ship combat or great paired with a shield, but I had no shield and this blade was not my preferred style, though the Valyrian steel helped to counter that for now.

As he came forward I took a quick backward step and leaned back as my sword flashed in from the side. His shield shifted, the edge of my blade catching the edge yet before it could bite in, I pulled back. That left a deep cut in the frame, bringing a vicious smirk to my lips. The smirk fell when he pushed forward with the shield, catching me near my elbow. I stumbled back, barely avoiding the axe as he shifted, exposing his body to extend his reach. The edge of the weapon caught my furs, ripping them as his axe flashed past.

I snarled as I stepped back before bringing my blade around in a brutal backhand that caught the bottom of his shield, I felt him try to push down and twist, but instead of trapping my blade a large chunk ripped away from his shield. Stepping in as he lost his footing on the slippery ground I brought Red Rain around in a quick downwards cut.

Roryn managed to bring his shield back in line though my blade still took another chunk off it. Roryn saw this and pushed forward, bracing Red Rain with my other arm on the flat of the blade. I stopped it, though as his axe flashed around a second later I had to hastily jerk back.

I reacted in time to avoid it but as the axe briefly caught on my furs it left his arm extended for a brief moment, and as he pulled the weapon back, I brought my unused dagger up to try to ram it through his elbow. He hissed in pain as the dagger’s edge caught him on the inside of the elbow, though the arm was back behind the shield before I could see if I’d drawn blood.

I stepped forward, Red Rain coming around to cut into his stomach. Unfortunately, the shield took the strike instead of his guts. Though the blow did take a chunk out of the shield’s metal rim. As his axe flashed towards my shoulder I retreated again, he came after me thrusting his ragged shield at my face. A quick side step allowed the shield to swing past my face and I plunged my dagger into his upper arm as a smile split my face, Roryn twisted his shield, turning my next strike with Red Rain aside as he stumbled back, though his shield now looked decidedly ramshackle. And I felt my blood roar as victory closed in even as I barely registered movement in the background.

Roryn desperately brought his axe around trying to drive me back but as I leaned back my arm flashed around, Red Rain a blood-red streak across the world, I felt brief resistance, and then hot blood showered my face and I felt copper in my mouth as his arm sailed away from his body. As Roryn stumbled back, I seized the moment and grabbed the bottom of his shield, flinging it away from his body. Red Rain came down again, entering his collarbone with a crunch of chainmail and driving through to the other side of his chest. Stepping back, my blade slid free easily. He fell forward, landing on the back of his shield, and I stepped back, watching as his blood soaked into the wood.

Wanting to be sure, I lifted Red Rain up and then drove the tip of the blade down into Roryn’s back, near his neck. Blood squirted from the wound as I pulled my weapon free, raining down red droplets on his black furs.

I took a moment to savour the victory, the taste of blood on my lips, the fire racing through my veins, the glory of a dead enemy at my feet….

“What in the Seven Hells is going on here?!”

I turned at the voice, my blood singing for more blood, more carnage, more mayhem, to see Ser Alliser Thorne rushing toward me. his blade was drawn, as were the blades of a half-dozen with him. I shifted my stance, my right hand gripping the pommel of Red Rain. “Ending a challenge and that pox-ridden whore’s line for good!” I shot back with a snarl. The fire in my blood remembered how easily Alliser had put me down before and wanted vengeance.

Thorne, much to my annoyance, pulled up short. While he kept a grip on his sword, he used that and his arms to stop the other members of the Night’s Watch from rushing me. He looked down at the body, and as the flames inside cooled slightly, I realised what he wanted. With a grunt, I pushed the body over, showing the blood-soaked carcass to him and the others.

“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered with a shake of his head. He glared at two brothers to his left. “Get the traitor’s weapons,” he then turned to his right.” And you! Get the Lord Commander!”

As the two on Thorne’s left inched closer, I had to fight myself. I knew they weren’t here to attack, could see it in their faces, but the inferno inside wanted them to taste Red Rain’s steel as Roryn had done. “What in the Seven Hells?” I spun at that voice and saw Oberyn exiting the door I’d come from. At his side were the two Martell guards and behind them was one of the Dornish knights and Ser Rodrick a step further back. “Cregan?” Oberyn asked slowly, though when his eyes spotted the figure on the ground, a fire came into his eyes.

A sound from above had me looking skyward, seeing Rian circling the yard. As the inferno inside waned, I realised I’d be dead if not for him, and he knew it. Which meant lots of rewards starting with some meat from the kitchen once the chaos in the yard was handled. Then a rabbit or anything else I could hunt on the way back to Winterfell. There, once the story of what’d happened reached Ty’s ears, she’d smother him with more treats, of that I was sure.

“Cregan?” I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked down to see Oberyn had closed the distance while I’d been watching Rian.

“Just the correction of a mistake, father,” I began, earning a smirk from him. “And making sure others know that I don’t just have this blade just because of that story.” That drew a snort of amusement from my father. His gaze returned to the body, which from the sounds of things was being dragged away. If looks could kill, the body would’ve combusted on the spot with the fury Oberyn was directing at it.

“I owe you for my misplaced leniency,” he said slowly.

“It’s not your fault, father. Roryn had clearly gone mad in his time here if he thought he could kill me.” That drew another snort of laughter from him, along with chuckles from Ser Rodrick and the others nearby.

“Aye, he likely had.” He clapped my shoulder and gave me a gentle push toward the door we’d come from. “Now, while I deal with this mess, you go and warm up. I would hate for you to catch even a cold because of that piss stains stupidity.”

I nodded and then moved toward the door. As I reached it, one of the Martell guards opened it and as I stepped inside my lips twisted into a smile, that was the first true kill I’d made in this life, the ones before having been down more to luck and magic. That had been exhilarating and I suddenly couldn't wait to hear the song of steel once more.

But first what I wanted now was a quick wash, to make sure my pup was ok, and then a good meal and drink. I’d also go for a fuck, but Ty wasn’t here and unlike my father, I had no interest in playing for both sides.

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“There is no one to confirm your words of how the incident occurred,” Jeor Mormont said after I’d come to the hall to hear his judgement on Roryn’s attack. “However, based on the earlier incident, the state of both yourself and… Roryn Drumm, it’s clear to us that he attacked you.” The Old Bear sighed, looking every one of his years. “I… words fail me for saying how furious I am at the behaviour of one of my brothers, to say nothing of this breach of Guest Rights.” He shook his head and none of those with him looked pleased about events, though Thorne’s glare made it hard to tell if he still felt I deserved a share of the blame.

“The failings of Drumm are not yours, Lord Commander. Nor that of any other member of the Night’s Watch,” I added as I glanced at the others sitting with him at the head table. to his right were Ser Alliser and Maester Aemon while to the left were Othell Yarwyck and Bowen Marsh; the First Builder and Lord Steward respectively. “What he did is an insult to everything the Watch and the North stand for but the insult was given by him alone. He has no house to share it with, nor blood to be held accountable.”

While my words were true, they likely didn’t do much to calm Jeor Mormont’s fury. Nor that of the Umbers. It’d taken some work to convince the Greatjon that the actions of one Ironborn didn’t condemn all those that had come with Roryn to the Wall. Oberyn hadn’t been much help, his blood wanted revenge as much as the Greatjon wanted it for the insult to the North. Which might be why all but the eldest or senior members of the Watch had been avoiding him like he had Greyscale all morning.

Robb had been torn between agreeing with the Greatjon and wanting to send a raven to his father. I’d managed to convince him not to do the latter – mainly as I’d rather not face an irate Ty the moment I set foot in Winterfell – but I was grateful for his support. It was also another little moment of him coming out of his shell and being proactive. Still, in the end, I’d managed to get all of them to back off and wait to see how the Night’s Watch responded. Which was why I was in the hall with their leadership later that day, not long after lunch.

“They might not to you, but he was under my command, which makes his actions, no matter how fucking heinous they are, my responsibility,” Jeor shot back, his face hardening as he spoke about Roryn. “He made a fool of me and disparaged the honour of the Night’s Watch.” He paused, took a deep breath, and shook his head. “Words fail to express how dreadfully his actions have reflected on the Watch, and while you do not hold us to account, I do. As such, and after conferring with the others, Maester Aemon came up with a solution that may, at least in the eyes of the Gods, settle the matter.”

I wanted to say I didn’t need a gift, that it wasn’t required, but I didn’t. The way the Northerners were up in arms about this showed just how important Guest Rights were to them. Not least because, as the Lord Commander had just mentioned, it was a matter for the Old Gods. Thus, I stayed quiet as Othell stood and moved over to a side door. A tap on that had two black brothers enter. Between them, they carried what looked like a branch, which given its colouring could only have come from a weirwood.

“The Night’s Watch never cuts down weirwoods, however on rangings, weirwood branches can sometimes be found,” Bower Marsh explained as the branch was placed on the table in front of me. “The wood from them produces some of the finest bows possible, though we’ve lacked a bowyer for some time now with the skill to craft such a thing. Instead, we are storing the wood here with plans to, if the need ever arose, sell them for supplies.”

"This…” words failed me as I ran my fingers down the branch, taking in the faint ripples in the bark. Weirwood trees held massive importance to any follower of the Old Gods. Giving a branch half this size would likely be considered an impressive gift, so this was… it was too much. But I knew I couldn’t reject it, even if it was large enough that it took two grown men to carry it in. To do so would imply that their honour was not worth being repaired.

“It’s too much,” I said quietly, I couldn't believe that there wasn't a lesser gift that could restore their honour, struggling to take my eyes from the branch as my fingers continued to glide over the bark. I could already see a fine longbow being made from this, perhaps even a short bow as well, and with enough left over smaller items might be carved from it.

“You may feel that way, but the size of the gift is determined by the party in the wrong. With your. . . . status,” I could imagine Alliser snarling at that comment, “it is the least I feel we can offer.” The counter came from Jeor reminding me once more how heavily the North, and those who followed the Old Gods, believed in the principles of Guest Rights.

I looked up at the head table, every one of them, even Ser Alliser – though he still looked as if he’d swallowed a rotten lemon – wore hard faces, making clear they agreed with the Lord Commander’s decision. I nodded and placed my hand down fully on the weirwood branch. “I accept the apology on behalf of you and the entire Night’s Watch, Lord Commander Mormont. Also, I wish to be clear that I hold no ill will toward any other member of the Watch over the actions of the traitor.”

Jeor smiled, and the weight of this lifted from his shoulders making him seem a few decades younger. “Good. I shall have my men place the branch on your wagon before you leave.” He stood and walked down to me, the others coming along behind. “I hope today’s events will not sour you on the work the Watch performs.” He added as he clasped my forearm.

“Of course not, and even if the events of this morning were unfortunate, I still consider this a worthwhile trip.” My thoughts turned to my pup, who was staying with Robb and his pup while I handled this meeting. Jeor nodded once more and broke the grip, though he was replaced by Ser Alliser. It was obvious he didn’t want to, but he still clasped my arm as honour dictated.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

As Othell Yarwyck and Bowen Marsh clasped my arm in turn, my thoughts turned to Robb. I was sure that when he’d first seen his pup, he’d warged into him. I’d have to talk with Robb on the ride back south to confirm it, but if he had, or he felt he had, I’d probably see about trying to teach him how to warg consciously. I didn’t want him, and his siblings left as confused and alone regarding warging as they’d been in the main timeline.

“If you have the time,” Aemon said as he clasped my arm; Bowen Marsh having helped guide him subtly to me, “before you leave, perhaps you might come to my quarters. I found some tomes that might be of use to your earlier enquiries.”

I nodded on instinct, then felt silly for doing so since he couldn’t see. “Of course. Perhaps after dinner?” he nodded his agreement, which was a relief. While we could’ve left tonight, the road wasn’t a wise one to travel in the dark, so we’d pushed back our departure until tomorrow. If Aemon hadn’t agreed to meet this evening, I’d have struggled to find time for him, which would’ve been a massive disservice if he’d, as he implied, gone out of his way to find more books on the history of the Wall and the forts along it.

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Thankfully, the rest of the day passed quietly, and after dinner, I made my way across the yard of Castle Back to Maester Aemon’s tower. Once there, I rapped on the door with one hand while the other cradled my pup. While I was concerned the cold might upset him, when I’d returned to my room after killing Roryn, I’d discovered him scratching at the door, yapping away in fear. It seemed that the little guy had known I’d been in trouble and was worried about me.

Hell, when I’d met with Jeor Mormont and the Night’s Watch leadership, he’d been unable to settle in the room, though thankfully Robb and his pup had managed to keep him occupied just enough that he didn’t start whining again. Apart from that one meeting, the pup had never left my side. That was why I was carrying him in the crook of my arm as I knocked on the Maester's door.

“Enter.” I stepped inside quickly, wanting to get the pup out of the cold. Maester Aemon was sitting at the desk I’d been at before. A pile of books rested at one side, though I couldn’t see their spine to know what they were about, while another sat open in front of him. I frowned wondering why that was since Westeros had never invented something like Braille.

A faint sound of contentment came from the crook of my arm as the pup enjoyed being back somewhere warm. That brought a smile to Aemon’s face, and he looked over at me. “Ah, young Cregan. Good, good. Come here.” He waved me over as I noticed a spare chair to his left, on the side of the table away from the pile of books.

“I would ask how you knew it was me, Maester, but I think we both know the answer,” I said as I sat, making him chuckle.

“Yes, yes. Your new companion has certainly been the talk of the castle, and his sounds are distinctive enough that even these old ears can tell where he is.” He paused, his glassy eyes drifting down to my lap. “May I?” He asked softly, a hand moving toward me.

Realising what he wanted I lifted the pup from my lap. He whined slightly, which made Aemon’s smile grow; though it grew further as his fingers touched the pup’s fur. The whining died down as the pup enjoyed Armon’s gentle stroking. Aemon’s face softened as if the years were melting away, and his eyes, lifeless as they were, seemed to sparkle with amazement.

He pulled his hand back after about half a minute, the pup pushing back to maintain the contact, though before it could whine again, I placed my hand against it. “When I first joined the Watch, I’d hoped one day to see a direwolf,” Aemon began as the pup moved around in my lap, seeking a new position to snooze in. “Alas my sight failed me long before now, but at least I can now say I have stroked the fur of one; something few can claim. At least for now.”

I chuckled at that as he was right. Once back in Winterfell, my cousins and Ty would be fighting for a chance to pet the pups; as would Arianne and Ty’s sisters in Sunspear. Still, that was something for the future. “Is this the book you wished for me to see?” I asked, having already glanced at it while Aemon was petting the pup to see it spoke of the construction of the Nightfort.

Aemon’s hand came down to rest on the open page, pointing directly at the passage I’d just browsed. “Yes, at least partly. This book, and these beside it, are the ones the Stewards were able to locate yesterday that speak of the founding of the various forts and are still legible enough to maybe be of use.” I leaned forward, wanting to read more. My chair creaked which drew a chuckle from Aemon. “I will leave you to them, though if you wish to speak about what you read, or have finished and wish to leave, I will be nearby.”

“Of course, and thank you.” Aemon stood, patting my shoulder as he did. He might not have his sight, but he was aware of what was around him and, at least within the confines of Castle Black, knew his way around. As he moved away, I shifted over to his now-empty chair, eager to read through the books he’d gathered for me.

…

“Still at it, I see.”

I almost leapt from my chair at the soft voice from behind my shoulder. As I turned to look at Aemon, my heart racing in my chest, I was glad the pup had decided it wanted to do something other than snooze in my lap. Currently, the little bugger was on the floor, stalking the edge of my furs as they hung over the chair. Thankfully Aemon had come for the side that avoided the pup, and as my heart rate dropped, I wondered if he’d heard it planning around and changed his approach.

“I did not realise those books were that captivating,” Aemon added, having heard my reaction to his appearance.

“They may not be,” I replied slowly. “Not really. It’s just, well, I was curious about how the wall and the forts were built, and since this may be the only time I can read these books, I wanted to read as much as I could.”

Aemon chuckled as he came closer, my pup moving around under my chair to stay safe. “It has been a long time since any, within the Watch or not, has shown interest in our history. Certainly not in my time have I come across many Northern youngsters who wished to journey here to learn of the Wall; never mind those from further south.”

I smirked, forgetting once more that he’d not see it. “History has always had an appeal for me. From the Long Night to the Valyrian Freehold. I find myself enjoying reading their tales.” I kept my eyes on him when I mentioned the Freehold, spotting the slightest tension on his face that others would ignore. “If one does not learn from what has come before, they are doomed to repeat the mistakes of old.”

While the books had been useful, they’d also driven me mad. Often there’d be a hint of something more, a throw-away line, a reference to an event never again mentioned there, that suggested so much lore, so much magic had been lost. And not just regarding the Wall and the Long Night.

“This is not a phrase I can say I have heard before, but there is wisdom in the meaning.” Aemon shuffled closer, his chain chinking with each step no matter how slowly and carefully he moved. That had me realising just how engrossed in the books I’d been. The chain was hard to miss in the smallish room that served as Aemon’s office, yet I’d drowned them out with the books. “Though I wonder if perhaps your interest is less in the mundane, and more in the legends around Brandon the Builder?”

“I’m not sure what you may be suggesting,” I said slowly, wondering if the last dragon prince knew more about me than I’d realised.

I watched as he sat in the spare seat, the one I’d first sat in before I’d started reading. His hand went down to the floor and I watched as my pup cautiously moved closer until it was able to sniff and then lick the old man’s fingers. That brought a smile to his face as he pulled his hand up, making no move to bring the pup with him.

“Tales of how you found your new companion have spread rapidly around the castle. While I harboured some scepticism at first, given the same story is being told by all, there may be some truth to it.” As he spoke, I reached down and scooped up the pup, who quickly settled down in my lap. “What exactly drove you to race into the Haunted Forest without an escort?”

“I,” I stopped and licked my lips, collecting my thoughts on how to approach this, wondering if this might be the in that I needed to get Aemon to open up to me. “Rian called out above us, and I have learnt to trust his calls. He was circling somewhere a little north of the grove.” I shrugged once more forgetting I was talking with a blind man. “I thought he may have found a downed deer or something. He has done so before you see.” That was true though it hadn’t been deer he’d spotted since there weren’t many in Dorne. That was the story I’d fed to Oberyn, and he seemed to accept it, though the way Aemon was looking at me made me wonder if he had his doubts. “So, I took off. It was foolish, and when I saw the downed direwolf I like should have stopped and stayed back, but I thought I saw something in the cave behind it, and well, I did.” As I spoke, my fingers gently stroked down the pup’s spine, making me smile as it leaned up into my touch.

“Hmm, that is certainly plausible. Yet I do wonder if there was more to things than simply hearing your eagle call out.” He looked down at my lap as if trying to take the measure of the pup. “I wonder, did you, perhaps, sense the young one in the cave? Perhaps even feel the urge to find him?”

“I,” Aemon raised a finger, cutting off my reply.

“You may have been raised in the Dornish sands, but the blood of the First Men flows in you. This close to the Wall it’s hard to avoid the stories, the legends, of those who can command the beasts of the world,” he smiled as he mentioned that part and I was glad he couldn’t see me as I gulped. “I wonder if perhaps, there may be more to those stories than most suspect.”

I stayed quiet for a moment, gathering my thoughts. I had considered revealing my skinchanging to him just a few moments ago but decided to hedge my bets. Yet here he was all but accusing me of it, though without any hint of disgust or revulsion. Perhaps this was how I could get him to reveal his secret, by revealing mine first.

“I would ask that you not mention this theory of yours to others, Maester Aemon,” I replied softly, wanting to make clear that I wasn’t threatening him. “But yes, I felt… a pull to this little guy. Just as I feel them to Rian and another animal back in Sunspear. Though the pulls are far stronger when we were north of the Wall; almost as if it was somehow blocking the connection in Westeros.

Aemon nodded, and then a content sigh escaped his lips. “I must admit to feeling jealous. To feel the wind beneath you as you soar through the clouds.” He paused and looked away, seemingly getting lost in a memory.

“Aye, there is nearly nothing like it,” I said, figuring that explaining the sensations as best I could somehow make up for his dreams of flying on a dragon never coming to fruition. “To be so high above everything, that nothing else matters. So free to go where you want. To see how small the Seven Kingdoms are, how inconsequential they are to the world as you dive through a cloud, the wind swirling around your wings. Or racing around feeling the air rage as a storm brews…” my words trailed off and I laughed gently even as I shook my head. “There are times when I am with Rian that I feel an urge to never return; to live free high above the world of mortal men.”

Aemon laughed with me, though there was little joy in his face or tone. “I always wished to ride in the skies, to feel the wind race past my face. Alas, I was born too late for that.” I frowned for a moment, wondering what that would’ve been like. Knowing your ancestors had flown on the back of apex predators, to be so far above the world on the wings that brought death at a single command. To see yourself as so far beyond others as men were above a rabbit or deer.

I wondered what sort of bond could be formed with such a beast, and my mind shifted to Alysanne. To her egg. Yet even as I did, I knew I never would. That egg, and any dragon that might come from it, was hers, not mine. Not that she knew how to; or that I did, though I had a few theories on the matter. Once she figured out the truth, if I could, I’d share those theories with her, and help her hatch her egg, but I knew I’d never ride upon it; never bond with it like I had Kaa, Rian and the pup.

“You have told me your secret, so now, I shall tell you mine.” My head snapped back to Maester Aemon, shocked at what I hoped would happen in this meeting might happen. “You asked when we first met why it was that Prince Oberyn said I didn’t need to call him a prince?” I nodded, which even though he couldn’t see it, somehow drew a smile from the old Maester. “It is because, just like him, I was born a prince.”

I took a moment, making it seem as if I was pondering what he was saying. “But the only Prince Aemon I know of came from…” my words trailed off, trying to sell my apparent shock. The way Aemon’s smile grew told me it’d worked.

“I was born as Aemon Targaryen, my father was Maekar, the First of His Name, and my brother Aegon reigned after him in my stead. My grandfather named me for Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, who was his uncle, or his father, depending on which tale you believe.” As he spoke those words I pushed my chair back, lifted a confused pup into one hand and dropped to a knee. He might not have taken the throne and may have actively chosen to reject it, but to me, that was a sign of true nobility. He was the last dragon prince in Westeros, one who’d had the coin land on the side that rejected madness, and that deserved respect. “No!” He called as he heard my chair scrape the floor. “There is no need for that. I gave up my inheritance twice. First to become a Maester and then again when I swore my oath to the Watch.”

“That may be true, but you are a prince of dragons,” I said as I stayed on one knee. “The scion of House Targaryen; at least in Westeros. I… I have heard rumours that the last threads of the house live somewhere in Essos, but I never thought to meet one.”

“It is not something many outside the watch know, and something I will ask you to keep hidden.”

“Of course.” He knew my secret, or one of them anyway, so holding his in return was the right thing to do.

“As for the rest of my family… similar rumours that some escaped across the Narrow Sea after Robert’s Rebellion have reached me,” he paused and somehow locked his eyes on mine. “Many nights have passed where I wish I could see them, help them.” For a moment, as his face falls, I considered hinting about Alysanne; to offer him some hope. But I didn’t; I knew it would sound false as I had no proof. “Yet I never felt I would meet a direwolf of a Skinchanger, so perhaps I might one day learn of the fate of my distant family.”

“I know it may not be much, but if I ever hear from any Targaryen, I shall find a way to let you know.” That will, in all likelihood, be when Alysanne worked out the truth of her parentage, whenever that would be. However, if I ever discovered facts about Viserys and Daenerys I’d try to find a way to pass that information on to Aemon. At least so long as it didn’t place me in danger.

“You are kind to offer, but I fear nothing will come of it.” I glanced at the desk, weighing up whether to prod more about Aemon’s past or return to the books in hope of finding more about the A Wall Empowered objective. While the latter appeared the more obvious issue, I knew the odds of me speaking with Aemon again were slim at best.

“You wish to ask something?” Aemon asked as if somehow reading my thoughts.

I laughed and shook my head, which made the pup whine in annoyance. “Aye, so many things.” My hand gently stroked the pup, helping it resettle in my lap. “So many I cannot know where to start.”

Aemon’s smile grew. “Understandable, and when you are ready to ask, I will answer. Though, know that for each you ask, I will ask one in return.”

“A fair exchange,” I said slowly, as I tried to work out where to start. There were the stories of Summerhall that I could ask about, of the skull of Balerion that was said to now rest in the bowels of the Red Keep. Even Robert, for all his hatred of the Targaryens, couldn’t bring himself to destroy the skull of the Black Dread, or any other dragon bones kept by the former kings. “There is so much I want to ask. About dragons, King’s Landing, Balerion,” Aemon chuckled as I spoke, seeming to expect and enjoy my enthusiasm. “However, I know our time is short, so perhaps I might ask about Aegon the Fifth, and if you know any stories, not in the books. Particularly of his time as a squire to Ser Duncan the Tall.”

The way Aemon’s face brightened as I mentioned Aegon I knew I’d hit on the right topic. “Ah yes, young Egg.” I couldn’t help but chuckle at the nickname Aegon had used as a squire to hide his true identity.

As Aemon leaned back in his chair, collecting his thoughts, I idlily closed the book. I might only have this evening to speak with Aemon, and much of what he’d say would likely have no bearing on helping me prepare, but to hear history from someone who lived through it; from someone with a deep, loving connection to that history…

That was something I’d savour for the rest of my days.

… …

----------------------------------------

… …

“You going to be good down in all that sand?” Howar Umber asked with a smirk as I slid into my saddle. Then gave a shiver and grunted. “And all that heat.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I looked at him and his older brother, Smalljon, while we were in the yard of the Last Hearth. The keep wasn’t a grand palace like some places I’d been, but there was a warmth and comfort to it that I felt I’d miss.

We’d been here two nights now at the insistence of the Greatjon. The first night, at the feast to celebrate our return, the Greatjon had regaled his family and staff with tales of how I’d found a dead direwolf north of the Wall and how I’d ended the last of the treacherous Drumms. I knew both stories were going to spread around the North, and Dorne once we were back in Sunspear, but the way the Greatjon told the stories the direwolf had still been alive when I found it, and Drumm had fought with two others at his side while I’d had no armour and only my blades.

I’d tried to argue against this, to make sure the truth got out, but by the time the Greatjon recounted the story for the second night, they’d grown more outlandish. In these versions I’d killed the direwolf to save Robb’s life while I’d fought Roryn and his band of five with nothing – and the Greatjon meant nothing – bar my sword and Rian. Said bird took great enjoyment in devouring every strip of meat tossed his way as the night went on; at least before I took him back to my room.

The biggest downside to the stories being told, beyond how quickly they turned ridiculous, was the fact that the Greatjon’s eldest daughter, Jessalyn, kept looking at me. It was clear she wanted more than to just talk whenever we were together, and while she was attractive, with a wicked sense of humour that came from her father, I wasn’t risking it. At worst the Greatjon would want me to marry his daughter – which I’d wondered on this third morning if that hadn’t been his hope, so to keep a Stark bastard in the North – and at worst he or Ty might geld me. Though for the latter, from the stories she loved telling me to get my engine going, she’d have more likely joined me and Jessalyn under the furs.

While I’d avoided Jessalyn without making it clear I was doing so and spent the nights with just my pup in my room, it hadn’t stopped her, nor her sister, Allanai, from spending time around me. Though that might have been that Robb was with me most of the time, and it was clear the girls were interested in him more than me. That made perfect sense, he was the heir to Winterfell after all, but it still meant I had to deal with Jessalyn’s attention more than I’d liked.

Now that we were leaving, I was a little surprised that the Umbers, or at least the Greatjon and his daughters, were coming to Winterfell. He had to know that the Manderly girls were there. So, unless he had matches sorted out for his girls – and boys, since neither the Smalljon nor Howar were married – I’d have expected them to come to Winterfell with us. Still, baring some disaster, I doubted I’d be back here before the Wildlings invaded, and I’d grown to enjoy the company of the two Jons.

“I have survived them for ten and three years, I think I shall be fine. This guy too, once he discovers the Water Gardens,” I added, patting a specially made bag in which my pup was, thankfully, currently resting. The Greatjon had this bag, and the one Robb was carrying, made as gifts for us. There was no chance we would leave the pups in the wagon that was coming with us, the one carrying the weirwood branch and the remains of the direwolf mother, nor did we wish to ride in the wagon. Thus these pouches had been made, with them being lined with wool to keep the pups warm. The wagon had several jars of milk harvested from a few of the kennel master’s bitches who were with pups, for which I’d compensated the kennel master.

Since we’d left the Wall the Greatjon had been saying it was right that those with the blood of the Starks should have direwolves at their sides. He also jokingly said he’d have to head north of the Wall to get himself a giant. At least, I think he was joking.

“Aye, you have, but still be careful those lady vipers don’t bite something important,” Smalljon shot back as he extended his arm. I grasped it even as I chuckled. While Ty was loud in bed, she wasn’t aggressive, though I suspected one of her sisters might be. “And next time you get into a scrap, fucking send us a raven first. Or I may hunt you down and skin you myself.” The large smile made it clear he was teasing, but he’d given me an opening I wasn’t going to pass up.

“Since when did you become a Bolton?” The way his brow rose in shock as Howar laughed behind him, meant the shot had landed.

“Gods, never compare me to that lot again,” He muttered as we break our grip. For a second, I thought I pushed the shot too far, but he chuckled even as he shook his head. “Crazy fuckers all of them.”

“Eh, Domeric seems normal,” Howar offered in defence as he clasped my arm, which reminded me of two things. One, from all I’ve heard about Roose Bolton’s trueborn son, he’s a decent person, and two, there’s a certain bastard in the North I must remove before the shit hits the fan.

“Not met him, and sorry if that hurt your delicate sensibilities, Jon.”

Smalljon waved his hand. “Delicate! Why don't you say that when you can beat me in the yard!” He smirked as Howar broke our clasp and stepped back. “Take care of yourself.”

“You, too.” With that and a nod of goodbye, I guided my horse over to the wagon. There, Oberyn and Robb, who were also on horseback, are talking with the Greatjon, who once again shows his height by not having to tilt his back much to look up at the two riders.

Oberyn turned his head as I approached. “Ready to leave?” I nodded, which drew a chuckle from the Greatjon.

“What? Do you dislike my hospitality that you want to leave without saying goodbye?”

“No, but he has a girl waiting for him in Winterfell,” Oberyn replied, a wide smirk coming to his face as I realised what he was about to say. “One of my daughters, truth be told.”

The Greatjon’s head snapped to me even as a smile came to Robb’s face. “We’re not related by blood,” I explained even as I shot a glare at my father. While I was glad that he was ok with my relationship with Ty – and seemed fine with the suggestions Ty had that I’d soon be with more of his daughters and his niece – I’d prefer if he didn’t try to scandalize everyone we met by suggesting I was fucking my sister.

The booming laugh of the Greatjon fills my ears. “Thank fuck for that! For a moment, I thought you had some dragon blood in you. Dumb fuckers bedding their sisters!” Oberyn’s shoulders tensed just slightly; something no one else would pick up on, even as I chuckled at how close to the truth he’d come. I did have the blood of the dragon, just not any from the Targaryen. The Greatjon came closer and clapped me on my lower back, hard enough that I had to clench my jaw to avoid wincing. “Right, you’d better get going. Never good to keep a lass waiting; or at least waiting too long. Do that and likely they leave ya.”

“Speaking from experience?” The Greatjon’s laugh once more rattled my ears. “If so, I can offer some suggestions.”

The Greatjon waved his hand toward Oberyn after my father’s comments. “Oh, I have no issues keeping the wife happy, though I have heard of others who heard tales of those who do.” He looked back at me. “Though if your boy has problems keeping this daughter happy, I believe my sons would be willing to lend a hand.”

I felt my knuckles tighten around the reigns. A deep rumbling growl slipped past my bared teeth, I paused and blinked. After a shake of my head, I sighed. “Forgive me. I…”

“It’s fine lad,” the Greatjon cut me off as he waved away my words. “Just shows you love this one. Though I suspect she will only be the first of many if you take after this viper.”

Oberyn shrugged and even though I couldn’t see his face, I knew he was smirking. “What can I say, I have a way of getting anyone into my bed if I so desire it.” He fixed the Greatjon with a look and I shivered at the suggestion my father was making. Thinking about him and my mother was bad enough, but I’d have to burn my eyes out if I ever saw him with the Greatjon.

“Well, then let me be the first to tell you to fuck off!” The Greatjon shot back, making both men laugh. “Right, enough of this. Off with ya! I got better things to do than stand around in this yard looking at a bunch of Dornish pricks.”

Oberyn chuckled and then turned to Robb, who’d been oddly quiet – even for him – during the interaction. “After you, Lord Robb.”

Robb inhaled deeply as if trying to centre himself, and then squeezed the reins of his horse. As the horse moved, Oberyn and I gave our horses gentle taps to follow. Soon the rest of the party was moving with the wagon in the middle of the party. Only a few, like Ser Rodrick and the knights from Dorne, were on horseback, the rest were walking, meaning it’d take up to a moon, weather depending, to reach Winterfell.

As we passed through the walls of the keep, I looked back at the Umbers. Would I get a chance to see them again before the Wildlings attacked? or would they, because of the changes in the timeline, all die before I was able to return to help with the Wildlings? Or Gods forbid, an earlier-than-wanted attack from the Others?

… …

----------------------------------------

… …

In the end, it took us about three-quarters of a moon to reach Winterfell, though the closer we got, the more fidgety Robb became. It wasn’t hard to work out why as his arm stayed close around the pouch at his waist and whenever we stopped, he spent most of his time with Quicksilver. Robb had given it that name as it loved to race around every time we stopped, though I wondered if he realised the name was the same as the dragon Aenys Targaryen had ridden. Regardless, the name was a good fit for the pup as Quicksilver was always in motion if given the chance, finding the energy to barrel around our campsites like a possessed ball of silver.

I’d ended up naming my pup Ymir. I’d considered Akela, simply to continue the pattern with Kaa, and Fenrir, after the wolf that killed Odin during Ragnarök. However, I’d decided on Ymir as, in Norse mythology, he was the founder of the entire pantheon; the first of the Jotnar and to me, my Ymir was the first bonded direwolf with someone of Stark blood in possibly millennia. It might’ve sounded a little pretentious, but the pup had yapped happily at that, and not Akela and Fenrir when I’d suggested them to him.

Both pups were very energetic on the way to Winterfell, already revealing differing parts of themselves, while Quicksilver darted around without a care in the world Ymir seemed much more cautious about the world, or as cautious as a pup with boundless energy could be, when feeling playful Ymir would make sure to hop on Quicksilver from behind to start their fights, darting from the shadows like a wraith, whereas Quicksilver just barrelled into Ymir like an out of control truck.

One thing that had stood out once Winterfell came into sight, which had been when we were still a few days from the massive keep, was Robb’s growing nervousness. He pulled into himself, spending all his time with Quicksilver. When I could, I’d spoken with him, reassuring him that Ned would allow him to keep Quicksilver as had Oberyn, though with his preferred sarcastic tilt, however, it’d done little to ease my cousin’s anxiety. That made sense since taking the pups, and the parts of the mother was his first major decision as a Stark, so of course, he’d be nervous to see how his father reacted to his choices.

Ymir shifted around in his pouch, which was quickly growing too small for the pup that was now, less than a moon since I’d found him, about the size of a small dog; something like a poodle. That had me wondering if, like Kaa and Rian, he’d grow bigger than other direwolves. I was both curious about seeing that and a little nervous as his mother, even lying dead on the ground, had put my horse to shame. With magic boosting Ymir’s growth – and he was already about ten to twenty per cent bigger than Quicksilver – I wondered just how large he was going to get.

The tingle of the magic as we passed through the walls of Winterfell shifted my attention to what was awaiting us. The notice regarding the magic area appeared in the corner of my vision, but I dismissed it without bothering to read it. My eyes scanned the courtyard of the great keep of the North, looking for golden locks that stood out amongst the browns and reds of the Starks. As our eyes met, a wide smile came to her face, and I shivered at the desire in her eyes; one I knew was reflected in mine. Nearly two moons apart was far too long for me, and as soon as I could, I planned to start making up for lost time.

Still, as much as I wanted to rush to her, I knew other things must be handled first. After I slid from my horse and hand the reins to a stable hand, I make a bee-line for Robb. He’d slid from his horse but was using that to hide himself and the pouch carrying Quicksilver, from his family. “Just take your time and explain everything in order. Hell, drop me in the shit for rushing off like I did if you need, and you will be fine.”

Robb looked at me. For a moment, I thought he might once more start to voice the worries running around his head. He didn’t though, instead taking a deep breath and then started to walk toward his family. I fell into step slightly behind and to his right, close enough he could sense me but not so close that I was suggesting I was his equal. Unsurprisingly, that still didn’t matter to Catelyn who sent a glare my way before focusing on her son.

“Robb,” Ned began with a smile as we approached the stair to the Great Keep where he was gathered with the rest of his family. “It’s good to see yo…” his words were cut off as Robb’s pouch moved and Quicksilver poked his head out, likely wondering what was going on.

Robb placed a hand on the pouch, trying to push his pup down. “F-father it is good to be home,” he got out before Quicksilver started being a handful and Robb was forced to grip the pup, though in doing so, the cover of the pouch shifted, revealing Quicksilver to the Starks.

Ned’s brow rose, wondering what was going on. Robb’s siblings all leaned forward, wondering what was in the pouch while Catelyn’s brow creased before she fixed me with a glare that made me glad she didn’t know magic. Otherwise, I’d have been a pile of ash, blown away by the gentle breeze sweeping through the yard.

“I, we, that is,” hearing Robb’s panic, I stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. He seemed to draw some comfort from the gesture, which made Ned more curious. And Catelyn was furious, which only got worse as I stepped past my cousin.

“You shall have to forgive Robb, uncle. He is just, unsettled by events that occurred at the Wall,” I began, taking over the conversation. Convention said I shouldn’t, but if there was going to be any blowback for how we’d gotten the pups, I planned to take it all. Not only would that save Robb from most of his parent’s wrath, but it would help solidify the bond we had; one made stronger due to the pups. Plus, since I planned to be gone from Winterfell within a moon, I could stomach Catelyn sending me death glares; after all, it wasn’t her that ruled Winterfell, but Ned.

“I assume Robb’s new… friend is one such event?” Ned asked slowly, his expression making it clear he wanted answers, and that his wife was close to having me burnt at the stake.

“Yes, my Lord,” I replied, using his title to make things more official. To the right I could see Ty and Alysanne shifting around, wanting to come closer and see Quicksilver. A feeling shared by most of the Stark children. “After taking in the view from the top of the Wall, I persuaded my father to let me journey through it; not far, though, just to the weirwood grove half-a-league beyond. I wished to pay my respects to the true Gods.” Catelyn opened her mouth to say something, but gentle pressure on her arm from Ned stopped her. I bit off the smirk I wanted to show at calling her Gods false. While angering her – and the Septa Mordane – further would’ve been fun, it wouldn’t help the retelling.

“Robb felt that, as my cousin and guide in the North, he should accompany me. As did Lord Umber who came with us to Castle Black with his eldest two sons.” I wasn’t trying to get the Greatjon into trouble here, simply making it clear that we’d had ample protection. “After I exited the grove, where Jon, well, Smalljon Umber and Robb were still showing respect to the Gods, I… well, I acted rashly.”

“A call from Rian drew my attention north, and I raced after him.”

“What did you do?!”

“Cat! Let him finish!” Ned gripped his wife’s arm tightly as she took a step toward me. I stayed still, not wanting to enflame the situation anymore, no matter how much I’d liked to. Though as Ned held back his wife, Robb shifted to stand between me and her; something I’d have to thank him for later. “Continue.”

I nodded to Ned, thanking him for the protection from his wife’s wrath – at least for now. “Rian only calls out like that when he’s found something interesting. I thought perhaps he’s seen a downed stag we could harvest. However, I was wrong.” I glanced to my right to see Ty had moved slightly as Oberyn had shifted near her. Unless I missed my guess, she wanted him to tell her what was happening, but he wasn’t explaining. Instead, fixing me with a smirk that made clear he was enjoying watching me be the centre of attention. “Rian had not spotted a stag. No, he spotted a dead direwolf.” Catelyn and a few others, including both her daughters, inhaled sharply. Though I suspected Arya had inhaled for a different reason from her sister and mother.

“It was massive, father. As big as our horses, but as Cregan said, it was long dead; cold to the touch,” Robb cut in, finding his voice. “When Prince Oberyn, Lord Umber and I reached the direwolf, Cregan was already moving past it, heading for a cave behind.” He paused and looked back at me, stealing a glance at the pouch carrying Ymir, before he turned back to his parents. “I went after him. I... The direwolf, even dead, was a shock, and I was worried for my cousin. But, also, I, um, felt a need to enter the cave.” My brow rose slightly at hearing him unintentionally suggesting he’d been drawn to his pup. While it would fly over the heads of everyone here, it was another hint that he had warged into Quicksilver. That meant I’d need to speak with him about it before I left. “Before I could enter though, Cregan returned, and, well, he had two gifts from the Gods with him.” At that, Robb pulled back the cover of his pouch and lifted Quicksilver out. The pup blinked at the sudden shift in light, even as his siblings, and most of the yard reacted to the animal he was holding.

“Is that…” Robb nodded at Ned’s question before it could be finished.

“Aye, father, a direwolf pup,” he answered slowly even as he pulled Quicksilver against his chest. Before anything else could be said, his siblings, including Alysanne, rushed forward. Though Sansa was a step behind, having stolen a look at her mother and needing to slip from Septa Mordane’s grip. An urge to backhand Catelyn for filling the girl’s head with pointless bullshit about knights, ladies and lords rushed through my head. I didn’t act on it, but I hoped things in this timeline went better than canon. Catelyn, in my mind, was a primary driver of the devastation suffered by House Stark. Her reasons made sense for a simple mother, but not for a daughter of a Great House – if you could call the Tullys that – who should understand the Great Game.

Any interest in the dumb redhead was lost as a flash of gold to my right had me turning just in time to catch Ty as she rushed me. I shifted my stance, keeping the pouch with Ymir away from her as she wrapped her arms around my waist. Behind her, I saw Oberyn’s smirk had grown as he enjoyed the chaos the reveal of Quicksilver had unleashed, and the closeness I shared with his daughter.

Looking into Ty’s eyes sparked a fire in my loins, one I desperately wanted to unleash: and given the way her fingers were tugging none-to-subtly at my waist, one she also felt. I leaned forward, wanting to taste her lips for the first time in moons, to savour her scent and the little sounds she made as I took control.

“Cregan’s got one too!”

Robb’s call made my head jerk away from Ty, much to her disappointment. Though that vanished as she processed Robb’s words and looked at the pouch I was protecting.

“Can we see it?” The question came from Alysanne as she, Arya and Beron reached my side seconds after Robb’s declaration. I felt my knees buckle a little at the pleading look in her eyes and cursed myself for being so weak to the whims of a female. “Him,” I said as the hand holding the pouch slipped inside, “and his name is Ymir.”

All of them, Ty included, cooed as I brought Ymir out. Unlike Quicksilver, he didn’t try to slip from my grasp, instead looking at each person in turn. Almost as if trying to get some measure of them. I knelt, so they could all get a better look at my newest companion.

“I want one,” Arya proclaimed. Her hand came up to pet Ymir, but he pulled back and bared his small fangs. That had her stopping, though I knew at his current size the fangs wouldn’t be able to do much damage.

“Ymir!” I said, turning him around in the air. “Arya’s family. They all are. Play nice.” While I’d not had much chance to warg into him, I’d seemingly done enough that he understood the tone of my words, if not their exact meaning. Ymir seemed to almost tsk at that, before settling down.

I brought him forward, letting him settle into the crook of my arm. Arya brought her hand forward again, slower this time. A smile that threatened to break her face appeared as her fingers touched Ymir’s fur. Fingers that were soon joined by those of her siblings and Ty.

“Adorable,” Alysanne whispered a wide smile on her face as well.

“Aye, he is. And Arya,” the girl looked up at me, “one day, if lucky, and the Gods favour you, you may get a direwolf of your own.” That had her bouncing from foot to foot, which made me chuckle. Apart from hoping the other direwolves would still appear – with Grey Wind going to Beron – I hoped I’d given her just enough of a push to despise Septa Mordane. Or at least more than she already did. I might not be seeking to complete Old Gods Re-established, but anything I did to help Arya break from the insanity of the Seven was worth pursuing.

A gentle squeeze of my other wrist drew my eyes to Ty. She leaned forward and kissed me just beside my lips. I heard someone, possibly Arya, make a retching sound, but I ignored it. “Another one?” She whispered and I gave a faint nod. “Well, at least the lonely nights brought you something; however, my furs have grown cold without you.”

It took all my control not to throw her over my shoulder and take her to my room. Beyond scandalising Catelyn, I doubted Ned would like me doing such a thing in front of his children. Later though, after the feast that was beginning to assault my sense of smell, and making my stomach rumble, I planned to spend all my time until at least sunrise tomorrow showing Ty how much I missed her.

… …