Song of A Northern Sorcerer

Resting with his back against the cold stone wall of his cell, Lord Ludd Whitehill sat in contemplative silence as he stared out from the bars of his cell. While many would've been regretting their decisions that landed them in such state, he was not one of them. He knew full well what he was doing when he agreed to betray the Starks. And he knew full well the consequences of failure. And if he had the chance to go back and do it all over again, he would still make the same decision as he had all those years ago when he'd first been approached about the idea of ending the Stark line and installing a new Warden of the North.

'How?' He thought, letting his head fall forward. 'How did it all go wrong? Our plan was flawless. And everything was going perfectly…so how? How did it come to this?'

While he was not part of the initial parties that gave birth to the plan to overthrow the Starks, when it'd been presented to him, he could find no fault in it. The plan already had the backing of House Bolton, House Ryswell, House Dustin, House Stout and House Corbray of the Vale. Though how the Vale House had been convinced to through their lot in he had no idea. Perhaps Lyn Corbray simply wanted the prestige of taking down the Northern Sorcerer, a man that many considered to be invincible on the field of battle after the very brief Greyjoy Rebellion. But while the reasoning behind House Corbray's participation was a mystery to him, he fully understood the Northern Houses motivation. The Bolton's were descendants of the 'Red Kings' of old. The greatest rival to the Starks ever since both Houses were first formed. And it was an open secret in the North that the Bolton's were waiting for the first moment of weakness to show in the Starks. And that the moment it did, they would pounce and remove their longtime rival.

House Dustin's participation was expected. Afterall, Lady Barbrey Dustin had once been said to have had quite the dalliance with the former heir of Winterfell, Brandon Stark. And there were even rumors that the two were to wed. But then Lord Rickard Stark ended those rumors as he announced his son and heir's engagement to Catelyn Tully of the Riverlands. Barbrey was then married off to Lord William Dustin, who had been a loyal vassal to House Stark for centuries. But Eddard's actions in retrieving his sister's corpse resulted in William's death, leaving Barbrey a widow. A very angry widow. House Stark had given her a taste of what she could have, and then taken it all away. And as the old saying went, 'hells hath no fury like a woman scorned'. And Barbrey was very much a scorned woman twice over. And with House Dustin's participation, House Stout, a knightly house that was a direct vassal to House Dustin, was expected to go along. And seeing as how Lady Dustin had come from House Ryswell and that Lord Roose's deceased wife was from House Ryswell and Lady Dustin's sister, their participation was expected as well.

The number of Houses that'd agreed to the removal of the Starks was impressive. But having a strong showing of support was not enough to convince Ludd to throw his lot in. No, that decision had been made after every detail of the plan had been laid out before him. The plan was to launch the coup during Robb Starks three-and-ten nameday celebration. A celebration that almost every House in the North would be obliged to attend. They would substitute the bards that would be in attendance with assassins and spend the days leading up to the celebration putting their own men and assassins in key areas around Winterfell to ensure there were no survivors. A special poison had even been provided to them, which they'd been assured would put the wolf's pet sorcerer out of commission for good. And once all witness and leadership in the North was eliminated, those that were in on the plan would send a message throughout the realm that the sorcerer and the wolf's bastard had launched a surprise attack and tried to kill the Starks. Given the general view on bastards and on the sorcerer, it would've been easy to place the blame on them. Especially with no one around to counter the claims. And they'd even had insurances that the King would believe their tale. Then Sansa Stark would then be wed to Roose Bolton's heir, ensuring the loyalty of those that had not attended the celebration. The Red Kings would have finally had their revenge against the Starks and take the place as Warden of the North, Lady Barbrey would've gotten her revenge, Ser Corbray would've gained even more prestige for his part in taking down the sorcerer. And as for himself, he'd been guaranteed the lands of House Forrester as well as the banishment or extinction of the wretched family as well! The rewards had been worth the risks.

But as the time for action drew closer, faults began forming in their seemingly perfect plan. The first true fault in the plan showed itself a year ago when it was announced across the land that the sorcerer would be taking the newest Northern ship and several heirs and spares on a voyage to raid Valyria. The timing was atrocious. If the sorcerer and the bastard were not around during Robb's nameday celebration, then they couldn't kill them or place the blame at their feet. Personally, he'd wanted to delay the coup. But Roose had cautioned patience. They had nearly a year to reach Valyria and return. And considering the already significant amount of coin and effort that had gone into procuring several needed assets, it wasn't easy to just simply delay the attempt until the next opportunity.

But the gods seemed to smile on their plot as, with less two months until the set date, word arrived that the sorcerer had returned to Westeros soil and was making his way back North. Then after Starks announcement of the wedding of the sorcerer to that upstart serving girl, they knew that they would never have a better opportunity. The sorcerer was a man that was well known to be cautious. But even the most cautious of men let down their guard during their own wedding celebration. So, with less than a few days before Robb's nameday, the decision was made to move the attack to the sorcerer's wedding celebration.

And things had started off perfectly to plan. The sorcerer was clearly enamored with his new bride and had let down his guard. The servants, many of whom idolized the whore because of her upbringing, had also let loose enough so that they didn't notice the subtle change of guards or the switching of wine. And throughout the celebration, Ludd and his son Torrhen had kept to their parts by making sure that those who were most loyal to the Starks; namely the Karstarks, Umbers, Mormonts and Manderly's were supplied with enough drink to ensure that they would not be able to interfere with what was about to happen.

Then it happened. The sorcerer downed the wine with the poison and true to their benefactor's words it had taken effect almost immediately. He could still feel the rush of glee that'd surged within him when the sorcerer had been bent over, clawing at his throat and gut while desperately trying to breathe. But that had been the end of their good fortune. In order to ensure that sorcerer was indeed put down, Roose had selected two of the best marksmen amongst the assassins and had given them the task of putting a pair of crossbow bolts through the sorcerer's and his little whore's hearts. But the first assassin had missed. And instead of piercing the sorcerer's heart, the bolt had instead buried itself into the man's shoulder. Then, gods only knew how, the sorcerer had managed to get his arm out to shield his little whore from the second bolt, thereby saving her life.

Even with the immediate failure to end the sorcerer, there'd still been hope. The hall had descended into chaos as the attack began and the sorcerer was unable to use his magic. After watching the sorcerer stumble and two close allies of Stark fall, Ludd had thought that they'd salvaged the coup. Then it all went to shite. His eldest son Torrhen and his master-at-arms Harys had descended upon the unsuspecting sorcerer with their daggers, ready to end his life. The sorcerer reached out and grabbed both his son and Harys by the throats. He had no words for what happened next, but the sorcerer had turned both his son and Harys into little more than lifeless husks. And in doing so he seemingly cured himself of the poison as if their very lives were the antidotes to the poison.

Ludd had known then and there that it was over. Even more so after he watched the sorcerer turn a man to dust with that strange magic of his. Seeing that, he knew there was no hope. The tides of the fight within the hall immediately turned as the sellswords and assassins started throwing down their arms and surrendering, no doubt hoping for some form of mercy. But those of the North knew better. There would be no mercy. Not for this. So Ludd had launched himself at the sorcerer, hoping to either kill the man who'd taken his son from him or to be killed. Before he could even reach him, something had struck him across the back of his head. And he was just barely able to make out the image of his attacker as one of the bards he knew wasn't part of the plot before the man's fist met his face. Then he woke up here, chained like an animal waiting for its turn to be slaughtered.

"Seven protect us. May the Mother grant her mercy upon us. May the Father grant us his strength. M –"

"Shut your fucking mouth Andal shite! It's bad enough just sitting here in our shite, I don't want to listen to your shite as well!"

Cracking open an eye, Ludd peered through bars into the dimly lit dungeon. No doubt one of the squires that had accompanied the knights of the Vale. The little shit had been rambling non-stop for mercy and protection for the past day. And it appeared that Lord Ryswell had finally ran out of patience with the boy. Even Ludd, who's House was one of the few Northern Houses that followed the Seven, had run out with patience with the boy's endless groveling and praying for mercy and protection. The Seven had no power, not here in the heart of the North were the hold gods were at the height of their power. If they had, then their plan would've worked like it'd supposed to have.

Already knowing another argument was about to take place over matters of faith or blame, Ludd closed his eyes once more and did his best to block out the arguing. They were scared. At least the younger lads were, and their fear was making them irrational. What they didn't realize though was that there was no point in worrying about what was about to happen. To an extent, their fear was understandable. They had just tried to assassinate the Warden of the North and his entire family. Their lives were forfeit. Unless you were smart and had a contingency plan in place to buy your freedom. Which Ludd had. He doubted that he would be able to keep his place as of Lord of Highpoint, but at the very least he would be able to buy his freedom and live out the rest of his days in Essos. He would be an exile, but he would still be alive. And he knew just the angle to use on Lord Stark. The man was known for his impeccable honor and his distaste for the great game. Which also made him quite a fool in Ludd's opinion. He would play the foolish Lord Stark like a fiddle and ensure his head stayed firmly attached to his shoulders and be across the Narrow Sea in a moon's turn or two at most.

He'd been so engrossed in his own planning, that he hadn't even noticed that all the arguing outside of his cell had ceased. Nor had he noticed that the air had grown steadily colder until it was at the point where he started shivering. 'Cold?' He shivered, holding out his hands and breathing into them, yet failing to see his own breath in the dim light. 'No. It's…it's not cold in here yet…yet why am I so cold? What…what is this?'

Footsteps. Slow methodical footsteps were the only answer he was given as the cold seemed to press down on his very soul. 'Not cold. Fear. What…who can cause such. No…gods please no.' His entire being shaking like a leaf in the wind, Ludd slowly inched towards the bars of his cell, trying to see who was coming. Yet in his heart, he already knew. There was only one who could cause this cold. This fear. He read about this countless times. Yet never in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined it would be like this. 'Don't be alone. Don't be alone. Don't be alone. Seven, don't let him be alone!'

But as he feared, the Seven could not hear his prayers. And as he stared down the darkened line of cells, he felt his stomach drop as the shadows almost seemed to move as perhaps the one individual he never wanted to see again emerged from the darkness into the dim light of the torches. His black cloak and black clothes almost making him seem like one with the darkness behind him. Shrinking back from the bards, Ludd grasped his hands together tightly to cease their shaking as the Sorcerer slowly made his way down the line of cells before stopping and the end and making his way back towards the beginning.

"Please my lord!" The young praying boy, who Ludd now recognized as Ser Corbray's squire Mychel Redfort, cried out as the sorcerer passed him by. "Please! I had nothing to do with whatever happened! Please sir! I – I didn't know or do – ahh!"

Ludd winced as the boy was lifted off the ground and slammed into the bars of his cell with an invisible power. "You are the squire to Lyn Corbray," the sorcerer stated, his voice cold and without emotion. "You were in the hall during the feast and were seen encouraging the younger boys to drink as much as they could."

The squire was visible shaking as he was held in the air against the bars of his cell. A dark spot forming in pants gave testament to just how weak willed the boy truly was. "Ser Corbray told me to make sure the younger boys enjoyed the celebration! And told me the best way to do that was to see how much they could all drink! That – that was all! I – I didn't kno-"

"Shut the hell up Redfort!" A man from the Vale, this one situated directly across from Ludd yet one he didn't recognize, shouted at the struggling squire. "Be a fucking man you coward and keep your mouth shut!"

Mychel dropped to the floor with a grunt as the boy was released from whatever had a hold on him. Turning, the sorcerer made his way until he was standing before the Vale man that'd just spoken. "What?" The Vale man shouted as Nox stood between the two of them, just his mere presence enough to make Ludd start to shutter once more. "Do you…think I'm scared of you? A heathen bastard? A walking talking affront to the Seven-Who-Are-One? I'm not! The Seven are my shield against your foul magic!"

The sorcerer merely tilted his head as if observing some oddity. "Then you are a fool." Nox stated in the same plain manner before turning and walking back down the line of cells. "There is a chance that some of you, like this boy here, might just be able to survive what is to come. A slim chance. But still a chance. But for the rest of you, your deaths are all assured. The only choice you have right now is how much pain you are willing to put yourselves and your loved ones through before you meet your end."

"Pain?" He heard the voice of Lady Dustin scoff, he hadn't even been aware that she was in the cells with the rest of them, though he should have. "Stark does not have the strength for such methods. The south made him soft. At worst, he'll smack us on the head and send us to bed without supper."

"You'd be surprised," Nox remarked back, "just what a person is willing to do to protect or avenge their family Lady Dustin. But I promise you, you will learn in time. Now, I give you all this one chance. Your guilt is unquestionable. But there is one thing that we will learn from you before you meet your end. And that is who was aiding you. And don't even try and deny it. None of you here have the brains nor resources to put together a plot this elaborate on your own. So, does anyone wish to speak now before we begin."

Ludd felt his heart drop. They knew. They knew that there was another involved in the planning. And while he'd been hoping to use the information to shock Stark into giving him favorable terms, the situation was still salvageable. Perhaps even better as he was not only willing to give out said information, but because he had proof of their involvement. Something that he knew for a fac the others did not considering just how well their benefactors covered their tracks. "Hey sorcerer!" The Vale knight across from Ludd shouted before he could gain the man's attention, "how's the wife and kid?"

Ludd swore the temperature dropped significantly as the shadows created by the torch light almost seemed to dance around them in some odd macabre spectacle that sent shivers of fear down his spine. Yet, the sorcerer just stood there with his back turned to the Vale knight seemingly completely calm in the center of the cells as the man laughed and continued his taunt. "It's too bad, that woman was a fine piece of ass. Too bad she couldn't have enjoyed a real cock for once in her life before s – ahh!"

The sorcerer didn't move from his spot, yet the knight lurched forward and pressed himself against the bars. Much in the same manner as the young squire had. But unlike the squire, who was simply held there, the knight kept getting pressed hard and harder into the bars of the cell. "Trying to taunt me into making a mistake and quickly killing you. A move that would perhaps work on an amateur. But I am no amateur." The knight started to scream, an unholy sound that Ludd hadn't even known was possible for a grown man to make as head was pressed through the narrow spaces of the bars, followed by his shoulders. "But your idiocy will only serve to prove my point as to what is to come."

Ludd watched in horrid fascination as the knight was squeezed through the spacing between the bars of his cell that couldn't be more than a hands width apart at best. His bones cracked and broke as his body was molded to fit through the space. Yet despite the seemingly fatal injuries he was receiving, the man didn't die. He just, kept screaming. Even after all his ribs broke and even as blood started flowing freely from his mouth he kept screaming as he was slowly dragged through the bars. 'This – this isn't possible!' Ludd wanted to cry out as he watched the man's hips fold and break, the knight unable to keep thrashing about and instead just moaning loudly in agony. 'He – he should be dead! His – his bones should've pierced his heart! No one can survive this! But – but how? How is this…'

"As you can see," the sorcerer continued in the same almost bored tone as the knight was dragged completely through the bars, only to be dropped into a bloody limp heap on the ground, the knight still moaning in agony, "your definitions of pain and suffering and mere child's play when compared to mine. Unlike your pathetic excuse for tortures, I can twist and manipulate the Force to keep an individual alive even after I've ruptured every organ and broken every bone in your body."

Raising his boot, the sorcerer calmly set it atop the knight's head. And with hardly even any strain, the man that Ludd was becoming convinced was some sort of demon started pressing down with an agonizing slowness. The knight's skull cracked as his eyes popped out of his skull and blood spilled from his ears, nose, mouth and now-empty eye sockets. Yet it wasn't until the sorcerer's boot was fully on the ground that the knights cry of agony ceased and his body went limp with death. "Now, does anyone else have another quip they would like to get in regarding my wife and fallen son?"

Swallowing, Ludd knew he had to say his next few words carefully. The last thing he wanted was to draw the ire of the sorcerer worse than they already had. "Sorcerer, there – there is no need for this," he said lowly, his head bowed in a sign of submission. "I – I will speak of who it was that aided us. And more, I – I can provide proof of their involvement, proof that I know no one else will be able to provide to you. But, but I will only do so after I speak to Lord Stark on the matter."

"Whitehill! You fucking traitor!" Rodrik screamed from down the line. "I'll fucking kill you myself you yellow-backed southern worshiping cunt!"

"You might be willing to suffer Rodrik, but I am not!" Ludd shout back, "and don't be envious just because I was smart enough to come with a contingency plan!"

"It won't work," the quiet and unnerving voice of Roose Bolton said from a cell down the way from his own. "You have only made yourself a target with your words Ludd."

Ludd wanted to retaliate, but what words he had died in his throat as the sorcerer stood before him. And while he couldn't see the blind man's eyes due to the cloth, he could feel his gaze seemingly staring right into his very soul. "You hope to make a bargain with Lord Stark. The information for your life."

Swallowing, Ludd nodded. "Aye. What I have is – ah!"

With a grunt, Ludd found himself pressed firmly against the bars of his cell by an invisible force. Flashes of what he'd just seen ran through his mind as he fought desperately against whatever invisible power was holding him in place. "Wait!" He cried, feeling the cold steel of the cell bars press into his flesh. "I…can…deal…Stark…"

"Your actions, and those of your fellow conspirators, cost Lord Stark his wife and youngest son." The sorcerer informed him coldly as the weight pressing against Ludd increased. "Stark has no mercy nor pity for any of you now. What he does have though is a history with all of you. A history which he acknowledges could potentially make him sympathetic to your pleas during questioning. Which is why he sent me to do this. I am free from such sympathy."

Ludd's fear increased tenfold as he watched the sorcerer raise his right hand, his fingers extended and pointing towards Ludd's face. "There will be no deals. No negotiations. No mercy." The sorcerer's fingers curled inwards slightly, and Ludd only just barely managed to keep himself from crying out as it felt like the man's fingers were pressing through his skull and directly onto his mind. "You will tell me what you know." As the pressured increased to the point of sheer agony, Ludd lost all thoughts of honor or pride as he threw his head back and let out a cry of pain. "One way, or another. You will tell me everything."

Cresting the last of the stairs leading to the uppermost level of the great keep of Winterfell, Maester Luwin took a moment to rest his hand against the wall in order to rest his aching legs and catch his breath. If there was one thing that he had learned in his near decade and a half here in Winterfell, it was that nothing was ever truly simple in the North. The cold was merciless. The people unyielding and straightforward. Hells, even on the best of days traversing the halls of Winterfell itself could be considered a challenge. And the past day not certainly been the best of days. He'd been working himself without sleep for nearly two days now trying to mitigate the damage that had been wrought by the attempted coup by the various Northern and Vale knights and Lords. And while he wished that he could say it was because of him that so many would live to see another day, that would be a lie. In truth, Lady Talisa and the students of Winterfell's College deserve almost all the credit for the wellbeing of the survivors of the attack. If not for them…he shuddered to think of the death toll that could've been.

Breathing deep, Luwin straightened himself off the wall and made his way down the corridor, his Maester links clinking against one another with each step he took towards Lord Stark's solar. If someone were to have asked him even a week ago if he'd thought there was possibility of a coup here in the North, he would've laughed himself stupid. Just the mere idea was absurd. To be sure, he wasn't naive enough to think that such powerplays didn't exist amongst the nobles of Westeros, but this was the North. And the Northern people were nothing if not loyal to one another. And yet, here they were. A coup had been attempted to no less than five Northern Lords and at least one Lord of the Vale. And it had nearly succeeded. If not for the sorcerer's miraculous recovering from the frankly unheard-of levels of poison that'd been used to put him down, then he was sure that the Starks and he would now be dead.

But despite the successful quelling of the coup, the price was high. Close to a hundred were dead with twice or perhaps thrice more injured, which inclined a fair number of nobility as well as small folk. But the deaths that had truly hit him hardest were Lady Stark, little Rickon Stark and the unnamed child that had been growing in the newly named Lady Nox's womb. And while all three were great tragedies that brought about a great sadness within him, they also brought a great deal of fear as well. Fear of what would happen next. He'd seen Lord Nox angry or perhaps even frustrated before, and it was not a pretty sight. But now, now he was at a level of anger Luwin had never seen before. And while Lord Stark could perhaps be counted on to perhaps reign the sorcerer in, he doubted that the Warden of the North would be feeling so inclined to do so this time around.

Out of sheer curiosity, he had made his way towards the dungeons shortly after the funeral pyres had burnt down just to check in on the prisoners. And by the Seven…what he heard even coming from down in the dungeons had stopped him dead in his tracks. Lord Stark had ordered prisoners to be questioned in such manners before, but those cases were rare and usually did not last long. But this, this was something else. He knew the sounds coming from the dungeons were being made by men and even a woman or two, but he would have never thought that any person could make such noises as the ones he was hearing. Even the Stark guards who were assigned to stand guard outside the dungeon had gone white from the noise. And judging by the smell near the two, one or both had already lost the contents of their stomach at least once. His want to check up on the prisoners was quickly overcome by his own self-interest and he quickly left that section of Winterfell and did everything he could to keep himself and others away for the rest of the day. So, he busied himself throughout the day by tending to the still wounded with Lady Talisa and the other students of the college. And now that the sun had set, he had received summons that Lord Stark wished to speak with him immediately. No doubt the Warden of the North was curious about the condition of those he'd been tending too during the day. Though he did find it a touch odd that only he had been summoned considering he wasn't the only one who was tending to the wounded. Perhaps he'd already talked to the others?

Finding two guards outside of Lord Stark's solar, he spared the two men a quick nodded before raising making to announce his presence. "Come in Maester Luwin," Lord Stark's voice called out before he could knock.

Lowering his hand, Luwin grasped the latch and opened the door. Lord Stark's ability to know just who was standing outside his door before they could even announce themselves had only sharpened over the years. A feat which Luwin would've considered remarkable had he not personally seen the many feats Lord Nox was capable of with his magic. He had been one of the few Maesters in the entire Citadel who bothered to forge his Valyrian steel link for his studies of the higher mysteries of life. But those years of studies paled in comparison to even a single lecture from the Northern Sorcerer, and he'd been forced to admit that he didn't know nearly as much in the subject as he originally thought. In fact, he knew next to nothing. A fascination that'd been shared with Archmaester Marwyn, who Luwin had been corresponding with ever since the Sorcerer had arrived in the North.

"Lord Stark, you wished to see me…" His words died off as he noticed that Lord Stark was not the only occupant waiting for him. Just standing behind Lord Stark were his two eldest sons: Robb and Jon. And standing beside the Warden of the North was Lord Nox and perhaps most frighteningly, the large female direwolf that was nearly equal in height to Lord Stark while the two were sitting down.

"Maester Luwin," Lord Stark greeted him, motioning towards the empty chair opposite him. "Sit. We have much to discuss."

"Of course, my Lord," Luwin nodded, shutting the door behind him and taking the offered seat. As he sat, he felt a bone chilling cold enter his being. But this wasn't the chilling cold he'd grown accustom too in the North. No. This felt entirely different. A chill born of fear, though fear of what and why he knew not. And it was only just then that he noticed that Lord Stark's eyes were not their customary color. His dark grey eyes of the Starks were gone. Replaced with the yellow eyes of the wolf that perfectly matched the large direwolf sitting tall and proud next to him. "What is it that you wish to discuss, my Lord?"

"The coup attempt yesterday," Lord Stark began, though Luwin had to force himself to keep his attention solely on Lord Stark as Lord Nox quietly moved around the room until he was standing outside of Luwin's line of sight. "Given the sheer number of House involved, not to mention the fact that assassins and sellswords were employed from across Westeros and even Essos, I had a suspicion that there was another party at play that helped to fund and plan the attempt. I ordered Lord Nox here to question those we'd captured extensively to learn if they had such help, and if so then who it was. During their questioning, all the Lords and Ladies that had a hand in the planning admitted that they did have such help. And that while all seemed to know exactly who was aiding them, none of them were able to provide proof of their involvement. All except for Ludd Whitehill. Who was able to provide a single piece of evidence in the form of a letter that he kept on him just in case the coup failed and he was forced to negotiate for his freedom."

Reaching out, Lord Stark set a single raven's scroll on the desk for Luwin to take and read. Picking up the offered missive, Luwin unrolled the message and read its contents. 'Father, this will be the best and only chance our House will get to advance like this. I promise you, the Arhcmaester's plans are foolproof. The Starks and the Sorcerer will die, with or without our Houses aid. If we go against the Order, they will see us go the same way as the wolves. However, aiding them will ensure that the land of House Forrester end up in Whitehill hands in perpetuity. Take the deal father. The Archmaesters have already set the wheels in motion and they will not wait for you to think on this for much longer.'

By the time Luwin got to the end of the message his hands were almost shaking, though whether it was from fear or anger he wasn't sure. 'This…this implicates the Maester Order! Surely Lord Stark does not believe that-'

A hissing of quenching steel sounded through the room as a bright red blade of fire appeared less than a fingers width from Luwin's left eye. "All of the prisoners stated that the Maester Order not only provided the coin and means to attempt this coup, but that the plan was in fact the Maester's plan to begin with." Lord Stark continued; his wolf-yellow eyes boring into him. "It is only because of your years of loyalty and service to House Stark and Winterfell that I am even giving you this one chance to explain this Maester Luwin. I advise that you choose your next words very carefully. Lord Nox does not have my patience. And despite our history, I am not of the mind to reign him in anytime soon."

Now Luwin was shaking as his fear started to nearly overcome him. He knew exactly what Lord Stark wanted to know. Despite his fear, he was still hesitant to say the words. The Maester Oaths were phrased in such a way to specifically prevent this exact situation from occurring. But despite that, he knew that there was a group within the Maesters that didn't care. A group that didn't exist outside the Citadel or even seemingly within as they were never spoken of aloud. They were an embarrassment and an abomination to everything the Maester Order stood for. But as he started to feel the heat of Lord Nox's blade caressing his face, the words quickly fell from him. "I – if it is the Maesters my Lord, then I believe that those responsible to belong to a small group within the Citadel." Luwin said quickly, his body completely stiff as he feared that even the slightest of movements from himself would cause Lord Nox's blade to pierce his flesh.

Lord Stark's face didn't change as he seemingly pondered what Luwin had told him while Nox's blade remained uncomfortably close to his face. Finally, Lord Stark made a subtle motion with his hand and Luwin let out a sigh of relief as Lord Nox's blade disappeared. "Continue."

Swallowing, Luwin forced himself to speak of the subject that he found to be a personal embarrassment and afront of the Maesters. "They call themselves the 'Order of the Guiding Hand' and they believe themselves to be the true rulers of Westeros."

"The Order of the Guiding Hand," Lord Stark repeated. "I have never heard of such a group before."

"That is on purpose my Lord," Luwin continued slowly, knowing he had to choose his words extremely carefully lest he find himself on the wrong end of Lord Nox's sword once more. "While none of the novices within the Citadel will know about them, the moment one creates their first link and becomes and Acolyte you learn of their existence. Though you will only ever be able to truly confirm their existence if you become one of them as they work in absolute secrecy, even from the rest of the Maester Order. And they are forbidden to be spoken of outside of the Citadel. They also hate magic perhaps even more vehemently than the Faith of the Seven. If a group a Maesters are truly responsible for these actions, then it would be them my Lords."

"Seems awfully convenient Maester," Lord Nox said from behind him, a fact which Luwin did not find comfortable as he would've preferred to have kept the Sorcerer in his sight. "Your Order becomes implicated in a plot to kill several Lords and Ladies, including the Warden of the North and his family, and suddenly the ones responsible belong to a secret Order within the Maester Order that no one outside of the Citadel knows about. Convenient."

Luwin would admit that, given the circumstances, that it was convenient. But that didn't mean he wasn't speaking the truth. "I speak the truth my Lord, I swear to you and on my oath as a Maester."

"And how do you know about this Order then?" Lord Nox pressed, coming around so that he was within Luwin's sight. The hilt of his sword still resting in his hand and pointing towards Luwin. "Those who partook in the coup seemed to have had a significant insight into not only my own power, but also into the powers of the Stark children. They even knew that Sansa was not a participant in the training her brothers and sister was receiving, which was why she was targeted to be spared in order to affirm the traitor's hold on the North. How do we know that you are not a member of this Order you speak of?"

"I swear my Lord, I am not a member of the Order of the Guiding Hand," Luwin shot back immediately at Lord Nox before turning back and meeting the cold eyes of Lord Stark. "They…they are an insult to everything the Maester Order stands for. I – please Lord Stark. I do not know what proof you will require to believe me. But I swear upon my Oaths and upon the Gods old and new that I am not part of the Order of the Guiding Hand, nor did I have any knowledge of this plot."

Luwin held the eyes of Lord Stark he had once known throughout his entire impassioned plea, hoping and praying that he was able to get through to him. "There is no lie in your words," Lord Stark declared, bringing a surge of relief to Luwin. "However, the question still remains. How was it that those who attacked us knew so much about my children's capabilities? While we have not tried to hide what my daughters and sons can do, I have not been declaring it to the realm either."

What little relief Luwin had felt disappeared. "I – I believe I know my Lord," he said, not wanting to continue but knowing that holding anything back right now would only be detrimental to his cause. "For years Archmaester Marwyn, perhaps the only Maester who truly took the study of the arcane seriously before Lord Nox appeared, has been asking me questions about Lord Nox. Specifically, about his powers, how they work and what they can do. And when your children started truly showing that they could perform similar feats of magic, he was curious about them as well. I replied as truthfully as I could, as I could find no reason not too considering the Archmaester has dedicated his life to the study of the higher mysteries. But at the start of the spring years Archmaester Ebrose sent a raven asking inquiring about both Lord Nox and your children regarding what they can do. At the time I didn't think anything of it. But now…"

"Given what we know, it is more than likely this Archmaester Ebrose is a part of this Order of the Guiding Hand," Lord Nox finished for him. "And he is not the only one who is suspect. The Maesters that reside in each of the keeps belonging to the traitors as well need to be questioned."

"Aye they do," Lord Stark nodded, which did absolutely nothing to quell the uneasy feeling brewing in Luwin's gut.

He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, these men were his brothers in the Maester Order. Some of whom he had trained with during his time in the Citadel and had come to know them quite well. He didn't even want to think of what horrors had gone on down in the dungeons under Lord Nox's supervision. And he certainly did not want to think of those men he had come to call his friends and brothers suffering such a fate. Yet on the other hand, if they truly were part of the Order of the Guiding Hand then they had not only betrayed their Maester Oaths, but they had betrayed the North and the rest of the Realm as well.

"-difficulty resides in how spaced out the Maester Order is and the secrecy of this unknown sect within their Order." Lord Nox was saying when Luwin finally managed to realize that the conversation between Lord Nox and Lord Stark had been continuing while he had been trying to rationalize the conflict within himself. "If there is solid evidence of their actions to be had, it will more than likely be at the Citadel. However, if we move on the Citadel, then the Maesters that are spread out over the land that are involved will know that they are on borrowed time and will flee. However if we go after the Maester's that are stationed across the North first, then it is likely that those in the Citadel will realize that we are on to them and will work to eliminate what little traces are potentially left regarding their involvement. Robb, Jon. How would you two proceed?"

Both young men seemed startled to be called upon so suddenly. But both overcame their surprise quickly as each frowned as they tried to think on how to solve the problem Lord Nox had presented to them. A problem that was indeed very much an issue, Luwin realized as he too began trying to think on how to proceed. The Sorcerer was correct in thinking that if there was any proof outside of word of mouth of the Guiding Hands actions, then it would be in the Citadel. However, if they went to the Citadel, then the Maesters across Westeros would know and those that were involved would scatter. But if they went after the Maesters in each keep first, then the Citadel would work quickly to dispose of any potential evidence.

"We have to go after both at once." Robb stated.

"Obviously," Lord Nox agreed, "but how?"

Neither lad had an answer. But Luwin did. And as much as it pained him to proceed like this, he would rather sacrifice a few to save the many. "If I may my Lord," he said hesitantly, waiting for Lord Stark to motion for him to continue before pressing on. "There has been precedent set in the past that during times of upheaval or when questions of inheritance are brought up that the Warden of the region would call upon the Stewards and Maesters of said keep to report to him so that they could work on who would be most suited to take lordship. If you send a raven to Rills, Barrow Town, the Dreadfort and Highpoint calling for the Maesters and Stewards to report to Winterfell to settle the matter of lordship given the betrayal of the current Lords, it will not arise suspicion."

"Have them come to us," Jon stated, recognition showing in his eyes, "but won't the Citadel get suspicious when they don't hear from the Maesters after they arrive?"

"Then we'll have to move on the Citadel at the same time," Lord Stark stated plainly. "While the Maesters gather here in Winterfell, I will travel to the Citadel with Lord Nox and we will take custody of the conspirators that are hiding in the Citadel."

The dread felling returned tenfold. As much as he wanted to talk Lord Stark out of this course of action, he knew it would be pointless. The last time a member of House Stark was killed unjustly, the realm rose up in rebellion and overthrew the Targaryen dynasty. Honor and the Northern Lords would demand the same fate to befall the Maester Order now that they were implicated attempted genocide of House Stark. "My Lord," Luwin said cautiously, knowing he was still on thin ice as it were. "I understand – please believe me that I understand. But if you storm the Citadel it could very well start a battle with House Hightower, which could then lead to war between the North and the Reach. And while the North has become more independent as of late, we still rely heavily on the Reach and their farmlands."

"I am not a fool Maester," Lord Stark shot back, "my fight is with the Maesters, not House Hightower. A fact that I will make clear to Lord Hightower the moment we arrive at Oldtown."

"Of course, my Lord." Luwin replied, backing down.

Nodding, Lord Stark then turned his attention to his two sons. "Robb, I would have you stay in Winterfell and rule in my stead with Jon aiding you where he can." Robb made to interrupt but held his tongue as Lord Stark raised his hand to stop him. "But I know that asking you two to stay behind would be a fool's errand. On the morrow I will speak with the Lords and Ladies and explain what we have learned and what our response shall be. The day after we will have hold trials for those who have broken their oaths."

"Trials?" Robb nearly shouted, his eyes going slightly yellow before returning to their normal Tully-blue. "Father, they came into our house and broke guest rights! They – they killed mother and Rickon and gods know how many others! They don't deserve a trial!"

Throughout the young man's outburst, Lord Stark remained completely calm as he waited for his son to finish. "Aye, they did break guest rights and they are responsible for the deaths of your mother and brother. But while they have thrown their honor to the dogs, we will not. And honor, and the law, demand that one must be tried and convicted before being executed, no matter their crime. If we do not, then we are no better than murderers. Understand?"

Neither boy seemed particularly pleased, but both nodded and stepped back away from their father. "Maester Luwin," Lord Stark called out, startling Luwin. "While I trust that you have spoken truthfully here today, the actions of your brothers in the Maester Order have made it so that I cannot trust you as I once did. Until I deem otherwise, you will have an escort at all times and there will always be a guard posted outside the ravenry as well."

He'd expected as much. "I understand, Lord Stark. I hope that in time I will be able to earn back the trust you once had in me."

"Aye, I do as well Maester Luwin." Lord Stark agreed. "One of the guards outside will escort you back to your room and remain with you till morning. Come morning, I expect ravens to fly across the North summoning the Maesters and stewards to Winterfell."

"Of course, Lord Stark," Luwin replied, recognizing the dismissal and rising to his feet before bowing. "I will work on them through the night and present them to you first thing on the morrow so that you may inspect them before I send them out."

"Good," Lord Stark replied simply.

Taking that as his que to leave, Luwin made a hasty exit out of Lord Starks solar. As he did, one of the two guards that'd been stationed outside his Lord's solar left is post and made to follow him back towards his quarters. But he paid the young man no mind as they walked in silence, preferring instead to think on just how he would be able to earn back the respect and trust of the Lord he spent nearly a decade serving.

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