Song of A Northern Sorcerer

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Within minutes of being sent away, Ser Jamie returned with Lord Stannis is tow. "Your grace," Stannis bow slightly as he approached. "You sent fo—"

"Read this!" Robert demanded, thrusting the raven scroll at his brother. "And then tell me how the fuck you missed this!"

As Stannis read the raven, his expression remained the same. But just like how he could sense victory coming from Balon, the wolfsblood was telling him that Stannis was angry. A burning anger that could rival Robert any day. "And you, Ned," Robert continued, rounding on him. "How the fuck did you know to send the Manderly fleet south to help reinforce the few ships Jon had stationed in the bay?!"

The sense of victory fluttered within Balon, replaced by one of concern.

"Your grace," Lord Tywin cut in, clearly not pleased with not knowing what was happening. "What does the raven say your grace?"

"The Greyjoys hid a dozen ships along the eastern shore," Stannis answered before Robert could. "The moment the Royal Fleet was well and truly clear of the waters, they launched an assault on Dragonstone. An assault that was broken by the timely arrival of the Manderly fleet, who took the Ironborn by surprise and managed to sink or capture every ship that made up the fleet. The captains were then put to the question. And it was discovered that the Ironborn were tasked with the infiltration of Dragonstone to…to…"

Stannis's anger clearly started to get the better of him as he couldn't finish what he'd been saying. But he didn't need to, as Robert continued for him. "They were sent to take Shireen, my fucking niece and a babe, hostage!" Robert spat. "And then they were to try and infiltrate King's Landings and try to take one of my fucking children as well!"

Balon's face paled at the news of his assault having failed while Tywin's eyes narrowed. "The attackers were fully routed then?" Tywin half asked half demanded.

"Yes, thanks to the Manderlys," Robert nodded, turning once more to Ned. "Alright, Ned, how the fuck did you know they were going to do that?"

"I didn't," Ned answered honestly, surprising everyone as he motioned towards Nox. "Master Nox strategized that the Ironborn could not defeat our armies through conventional means. So, he reasoned that they had an alternative means to achieve their goal. And after studying the initial assaults, he theorized that they would be after Lord Stannis's daughter or your own children, your grace."

Robert stared at him for some time, weighing his words before turning to Nox. "Well, sorcerer, it seems you've more than proven your worth so far. You ended the siege of the Pyke in less than a fucking day and figured out a plot that none of our most skilled battle commanders, including myself, could see. The crown owes you a debt, it would seem." Pausing, Robert took a moment to consider Nox. "That sword over your shoulder. You weren't wearing it before. Where did you get it?"

Reaching over his shoulder, Nox drew the sword out of its sheath. The moment the blade was clear, everyone knew what it was. The distinctive red tint and rippled patterns along the blade clear as day. "Valyrian steel," Lord Tywin stated, his eyes growing hungry as a wave of pure desire emerged from the stoic man. "Red Rain, the ancestral sword of House Drumm. Lord Dunstan Drumm would not have parted with the blade willingly."

"He didn't," Nox answered simply.

Seeming to come to a decision, Robert approached Nox. "Honor dictates that such blades should be ransomed back to their Houses once the war is over. However, as the Ironborn decided to rebel, including House Drumm, not to mention trying such a backhanded tactic like kidnapping my niece or children, a plot you smelt out, you can keep the blade. Consider it payment for your services."

Ned highly doubted that Nox would've given the blade back in the first place, which would've caused more than a few problems. But now with Robert's decree, none could argue with Nox taking the weapon. Although judging by the hungry look from Lord Tywin, Ned was sure the sorcerer would not be able to escape the island without receiving at least half a dozen offers and requests for the blade.

"You have my thanks, your grace," Nox nodded, returning the blade to its sheath before nodding towards the defeated Greyjoys. "Now, what about these three? Want me to kill them?"

The almost causal way he suggested executing the three men nearly made Ned do a double take. 'He—He couldn't mean it? Could he? I can't sense anything from him…so I honestly don't know if he was being serious or not on the offer.'

Robert however waved the offer off. "No. No need for that. They're defeated. But that doesn't mean they're going to get off lightly. Even more so now that you tried that fucking stunt with my niece and children! So, here's what you're going to do, Greyjoy. For each ship that was destroyed, you will fucking replace them with ships of your own or your own gold. You lost one son to my brother around Seagard, right? What does that leave you with? Three children?"

"Two, your grace," Nox interjected, drawing everyone's attention. "Unfortunately, his eldest decided to try and run his blade through my back. He didn't survive the attempt."

"Two then," Robert nodded. "A son and a daughter, right? Both will be wards of the North until they turn twenty. At which point they will be returned to you. Perhaps they can actually learn some fucking honor if they live with the most honorable man I know. Right, Ned?"

Ned wanted to protest but knew he couldn't. Robert had made his decree, and all he could do was accept it. "As you wish, your grace," Ned nodded.

"Good," Robert nodded before turning back to Balon. "Now, swear your allegiance to the Iron Throne and me again, you useless cunt. Before I decide to toss your ass over this bridge."

"A moment, your grace," Nox said, stepping forward before Balon could retake his oath.

"What is it, sorcerer?" Robert asked, clearly displeased with being interrupted. "You've been paid for your services."

"Yes, and I appreciate your generosity. And I seek to aid where I can." Nox acknowledged. "I will preference my words with the knowledge that I am still new to these lands. But, in my homeland, we are no strangers to dissidents. Dissidents that are put down fast and made an example of to prevent others from following in their footsteps. Children to be raised as wards, taxes increased, and ships confiscated. These are things that in a short time, perhaps a decade or less, will be forgotten. Others will see this and take note. They'll begin to weigh the risks associated with rebelling against you again, and conclude that they are not that steep. Your grace might wish to make a more…permanent reminder."

Ned did not necessarily like where Nox was going with this. Even more so when he could see approval in Lord Tywin's eyes at what Nox had said. It wasn't honorable. The Greyjoys had surrendered. There was no need to escalate things further. But Robert, and even Stannis, seemed to be considering his words. "What do you have in mind?" Robert asked, much to Ned's dismay.

Nox turned to the three kneeling men. "Killing them would be too easy for them. However, simply exterminating their House would leave a power vacuum here in the Iron Islands as the Lords would begin a new war to claim dominance. So, an alternative. Under their orders, the Iron Fleet raided Lannisport, Seagard, Barrowton, and four other settlements on the Reach's coast, making seven in total. Eight, if you wish to include Dragonstone. Eight settlements raided. Eight cuts upon their flesh. A constant reminder both to themselves and others of what will happen they choose the path of violence again."

Scratching at his beard, Robert considered the suggestion for all of a few seconds before nodding. "Sounds fair. Kingslayer, Barristan. Get Lord Greyjoy to his feet and strip him of his armor." The two Kingsgaurd complied without question, grabbing Balon under the arms and hoisting him to his feet before removing his chest piece and tearing off his shirt, exposing his chest and back to the king. "Well, sorcerer, you made the suggestion and you're serving the Starks now. So, what's that saying in the North, Ned? 'The man who passes the sentence swings the sword'? So, you'll do this. And if he dies, then so too shall you."

If Robert expected Nox to revoke his suggestion, it failed. "As you wish," Nox complied stepping in front of Balon. "Lord Tywin. Lannisport was hit the hardest of the towns and villages raided. For justice to your people, I would use your dagger. My lightsaber is not delicate enough for what is about to happen. And I have not had practice with this sword yet to truly use it effectively."

Without a word, Lord Tywin immediately pulled out the dagger from his waist and held it out hilt first towards Nox. "Thank you, my Lord," Nox nodded, taking the offered dagger before spinning the blade around his hand and through his fingers as if he were in a mummer's show. "This is a good blade."

He moved in a blur of motion that Ned could hardly follow. Within the space of a heartbeat, Balon's chest was marred with six deep cuts. Deep, yet nonfatal from what Ned could tell. The last two cuts were delivered to Balon's face. One cutting diagonally from hairline to the opposite cheek across his nose. And the last was delivered vertically, from ear to the corner of his mouth. 'Every time I think he cannot surprise me again, he does so.' Ned thought, frowning as he took in Balon's bleeding form. 'To move so fast and with such accuracy to inflict the most damage yet to avoid a fatal injury… Just what type of training did he endure? And what type of training have I resigned Jon and Robb too?'

"Well, that's a statement huh?" Robert gaffed, taking in Balon's bleeding form. "Someone fix this fucker up and then he'll swear his allegiance back to the crown. And someone break out the ale and whores! It's time to do the two best things after winning a battle! Fucking and drinking!"

The men around them, save for Nox, Tywin, Stannis, and Ned, all cheered as the King turned his back on the bleeding Balon and made his way towards the Great Keep of the Pyke. Stannis was quick to follow his brother, with Tywin and the Kingsguard close on their heels. The servants arrived quickly and, under escort of a mixture of Baratheon, Lannister, and Stark men-at-arms. Ned however didn't move. He remained on the bridge. As too did Nox.

Soon enough, the two were alone as could be on the bridge, with the nearest man well out of hearing range. "You don't approve, Lord Stark."

Frowning, Ned's eyes flickered down to the small pool of blood. Balon's blood. "There was no honor in what you did," Ned stated. "He was defeated."

Nox didn't say anything as he turned his unseeing eyes towards the ocean. "Tell me, Lord Stark, what is the sigil of your House?"

Taken slightly aback, Ned answered immediately. "The direwolf."

"And tell me, Lord Stark, when the pack is threatened, does the direwolf merely slap the ones who threatened them on the wrist and think they will just go away? Or do they destroy all threats to their pack?"

"There is a difference," Ned countered. "They are beasts. And we are men."

"Yes, that is true," Nox conceded. "But the idea is sound. Do you truly think your ancestors were able to conquer – let alone hold – a land as vast and as inhospitable as the North by simply patting everyone who dared to go against them on the head and sending them to bed without dinner? No, it took more than a wolf to conquer and hold the North. It took a direwolf. One who will do whatever is necessarily to protect those within its pack. And one willing to do whatever is necessarily to keep anyone from threatening said pack."

Turning on his heel, Nox took two steps towards the Great Keep before stopping. "Honor has its place, to be sure. But I have seen honor get the better of many and make them blind to the world around them. And when that narrow world they erected around themselves was brought low, they were not the only ones to suffer for their mistakes. Be a wolf, Lord Stark. Not a stag, nor a falcon, nor a trout. No, not even a wolf. Be more than a wolf. Be a direwolf. For winter is coming for us all. And when the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives."

And with that, Nox left Ned on the bridge overlooking the Pyke. His words cutting deep into the Warden of the North. 'How… How does he know that saying?' Ned thought, reflecting on the last bit of Nox's speech. 'Those words… They were spoken by father just before I was sent off to the Eyre. I thought I knew what they meant, but…Could my father have meant something else? Was he trying to tell me something before I headed off to the Eyre? If so…what?'

With a more than slightly troubled mind, Ned made his way into the great hall to join in the celebrations. Though he knew it would not be a joyous occasion for himself.

It took far longer than he would've liked after the Ironborn had been brought to heel and Balon Greyjoy forced to once again give his oath of servitude to the Iron Throne. But nearly a month after the end of the Greyjoy Rebellion, Lord Tywin Lannister, head of House Lannister, Warden of the West, and father of the Queen, finally found himself back in his solar in the great castle of Casterly Rock. He'd been received, as decorum required, by the steward he'd left in charge and his son Tyrion at the Lion's Mouth, the cavern that gave entry to the small mountain upon which the ancestral seat of House Lannister sat. During the ride, Tyrion had informed him of any developments that'd transpired during his absence, which thankfully there were none truly of note.

Truthfully, Tywin cared little for the current going's or the most recent gossip within the castle. There was only one thing Tywin truly wanted to know about. And thankfully Tyrion apparently possessed enough of a mind to wait until they were in private to discuss the matter of the Northern Sorcerer, Nox. But for what awaited Tywin within his solar, Tyrion's solution was not what Tywin expected. Nor what he wanted to see.

"I gave you a single task while I was at war with the King putting down the Greyjoy Rebellion," Tywin just barely kept himself from growling at his son, who was sitting in the chair across the desk from him in his solar with a smile on his face as if he'd done something incredibly clever. "And you present me with these…whores."

To their credit, neither woman standing behind his son recoiled at his tone nor the name. 'They are not meek. A small consolation, all things considered.'

His son didn't appear to be off put by his tone either. If anything, that infuriating smirk of his grew only larger. "But father, I have done exactly as you requested. These two beauties behind me are my answer to the task you assigned to me. And I must say, it was quite a confusing task to say the least. You never cared about the goings on of the wolves, but now you do. I can't help but wonder why that is?"

Resting his elbows on his desk, his gaze went from his son to the two whores standing behind him. The more he thought about it, the more he realized Tyrion, as galling as it was to admit, might have had a decent idea. Neither whore had the look of a woman from the Westerlands, their hair dark of color, their skin pale and their faces more round instead of angular. Perhaps…Perhaps the idea had some merit. But he was not ready to concede the point just yet.

"Leave the room. But do not venture beyond sight of the door," he ordered the two whores, who immediately bowed to him and left the room, leaving Tywin alone with Tyrion.

"Explain your plan." Tywin ordered his son the moment the door shut behind the two.

His smirk still in place, Tyrion lounged back in his chair. "It's simple, father. I take it that you want information. And whores, if one cares to look, are a wealth of information. For men's lips are often more lax than they normal are after enjoying their services. One of the whores will travel to Torrhen's Square and the other will ply her trade in Winter Town just outside of Winterfell. The two will communicate with one another, with the one in Winter Town passing information to the one in Torrhen's Square. To get the information, we will simply reroute the ship that takes prisoners that've elected to take the Black to Torrhen's Square, where the whore will deliver the information to the captain of the vessel, a man we trust. That information will then be brought back to us. We may have to increase the number of times we make the trip to deliver prisoners, or perhaps find a reason to trade with the North. But this would be the quickest way to get the information you so desire. Although, it would be beneficial if I could inform the ladies what exactly it is that you are looking for."

Leaning back, Tywin thought the plan over in his mind. It was relatively solid. A way to put a spy in Winterfell without putting one in Winterfell. And his son was right, weaker men often had loose lips when it came to whores. And he had even devised a method to pass information to and from the spies. But still, he was not willing to admit Tyrion had completed his assigned task just yet.

"And what of their loyalty to us?" He asked, fixing Tyrion with a look. "I need not remind you that a whore's loyalty is to the one who holds the most coin, do I?"

He could see genuine anger in Tyrion's eyes at the reminder of the whore he'd taken for a wife. A union Tywin had turned into an example and lesson.

"No," Tyrion replied. "You've made that point painfully clear already, father. And we will have their loyalty. Unquestioned loyalty. For not only can we out pay anything the Starks – or any Northern House – could offer, we will be holding something each hold dear. One has a sister and the other a brother, both younger. With your blessing, the brother will be initiated into the guards here at Casterly Rock, and the sister will be sent to the kitchens to work as a scullery maid. Perhaps not the most glamorous of rewards, but each girl does not want what remains of their family to have to follow them into their chosen profession. And they both understand the price of betraying the confidence of House Lannister."

Rising from his seat, Tywin passed his son by and went to a shelf next to the window that overlooked the Sunset Sea. Pulling down a dozen scrolls, he made his way back to his desk and set the dozen scrolls down in front of Tyrion. "The whores will be your responsibility. So too shall it fall to you to see our threat followed through upon should they break faith with House Lannister." He stated, taking his seat before motioning towards the scrolls. "These are tax reports from some of our lesser lords for last year and the year prior. You will go over each and look for any discrepancy. Should you find one, you will come up with an appropriate action to take and present it to me along with your findings."

The cocky smirk faded from Tyrion's face as he looked down at the scrolls. "I – I will see it done," Tyrion swallowed heavily. After a moment, he looked back up to his father with a searching gaze. "Although, I feel it would benefit our search for information if I could inform the girls what exactly you are looking for."

Folding his hands, he met Tyrion's mismatched eyes. "Lord Stark has recently gained the allegiance of…a foreigner. I need every scrap of information that the whores can find out about him in order to present him with an offer that will take him away from the wolves and ensure his loyalty to House Lannister alone."

Tyrion's eyes narrowed in confusion. "All of this because Lord Stark has gained the allegiance of some foreigner? He must be quite the fighter for you to go through all of this just to try and change his allegiance to us. Is he stronger than the Mountain? Or perhaps more skilled with a blade than Jamie?"

"Both and neither," Tywin answered. "The man is a sorcerer."