Song of A Northern Sorcerer

Deep within the crypts of Winterfell, Ned Stark stood silently before the three statues marking the graves of his family. To his far left stood the silently staring form of his father while next to him was the statue of his elder brother. A sword laid out across their laps as tradition for the Starks since the time of Bran the Builder. Even if their bones were never recovered, Ned still had had their statues created to honor his family. But it was not his father nor his brother that he came to see. No. As usual the reason he wandered down into the crypts this day was to stand before her statue.

His sister, Lyanna Stark, the 'She-Wolf'. Or as only a few knew her; The Knight of the Laughing Tree…or the Second Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

As it so often did, Ned's mind aimlessly wandered back to eight years ago at the Tourney or Harrenhal. He remembered vividly being so excited about the tournament. He'd be able to see his family again after years of separation. But more importantly, he would be able to formally introduce his friend Robert to his sister. But that excitement was dampened slightly by his friend's actions. Ned loved Robert as a brother, he truly did. But the one aspect that was a strain on their friendship was his constant bedding of anything and everything with two legs, a pair of tits and a cunt. He could still recall the day Jon Arryn had arrived with the news that the betrothal between Robert and Lyanna had been agreed upon. They'd both been happy and proud, Robert even called him his soon-to-be-true-brother. But then Ned's excitement lessened as Robert proceeded to celebrate by taking Ned to a brothel and purchasing two whores for himself before telling Ned to enjoy himself as well.

That was the day that the small grain of doubt wedged its way into Ned's mind. He couldn't believe the audacity of his friend. He'd just been told that he was betrothed, and the first thing he did was get two whores and offer a third to his soon-to-be goodbrother. It was…It went against everything Jon Arryn had taught them over the years about responsibility. Then the second grain of doubt entered his mind just after the announcement of the Tourney at Harrenhal and Ned discovered that Robert already had a bastard daughter in the Vale. That she was nearly a year old! And if the fact that he had a bastard wasn't bad enough, Robert was completely uninterested in her at all!

But despite what he'd seen, he kept his doubts ruthlessly pinned down. Robert would change after he married his sister. Ned was sure of it. But then the Tourney happened. Robert, after meeting Lyanna for the first time ever, proceeded to spend the entirety of the tournament in the company of whores when he wasn't participating in the events or trying to court Lyanna. Then Rhaegar won the Tourney and crowned Lyanna the Queen of Love and Beauty. And then all the smiles died. And a year later the Rebellion began when Lyanna was taken and Ned's brother and father were executed by the Mad King. Robert, Ned and Jon raised their banners and brought down the Mad King and Rhaegar. And in return…Ned lost the one thing he truly and only wanted in life. Her. His desert sun.

'But you were never abducted,' Ned thought ruefully, almost glaring up at his sister's statue and despising himself for the anger he felt towards his sister. 'You went with Rhaegar willingly. To be his second queen. But why…why did you not contact us? Why did Rhaegar not? I know that I was not the best brother to you when you needed it. But could you not tell us of your plans? Especially when said plans had the potential to alienate two of the Great Houses of Westeros?'

Shaking his head with a tired sigh, Ned banished thoughts of the past. 'The past is the past and the ink is dry. I cannot change what happened as much as I cannot stop the sun from rising on the morrow.' Pausing, he pulled out a single blue rose that he'd taken from the glass gardens and placed in at the feet of his sister's statue. 'My carelessness nearly cost me my last tie to you, sister. But what am I to do? I cannot proclaim to the world that Jon is not a bastard and reveal his true name. Robert, friend or not, would seek Jon's death. And I cannot dishonor my wife any more by giving Jon the Stark name. Please, Lyanna…tell me. What am I to do?'

Ned wasn't sure why he even bothered to ask anymore. His sister was long gone, and the old gods of the North did not provide direction or answers like so many Andals believed that the Seven could. 'I know that you can't tell me what to do, Lyanna, but I hope that you know that I'm doing my best to keep my promise. I'm keeping him safe.' Placing his hand against the cold stone of his sister's memorial, Ned spared his brother and father a last parting glance before making his way out of the crypts.

Coming out of the crypts, Ned cocked his head to the side as the sound of cheering reached him. Following the noise, he soon found the source as it seemed that nearly a quarter of Winterfell had descended upon the training grounds. 'Now what is going on here?' he thought to himself as he quietly made his way towards the crowd. 'Robb and Jon should be training today. And while it is not unusual for the Lord or his Heir to garner a crowd while they train, it should not warrant this much attention.'

Moving carefully through the crowd, Ned was more than slightly surprised at what had drawn their attention. It wasn't his son nor Jon that'd called for their attention. No, his boys were both standing side by side on the outskirts of the training ring with Ser Rodrik as they both cheered for what happening before them. Nearly two dozen of Winterfell guards were littered across the training grounds. Most were nursing bruises or in other cases a cut here or there associated with an intense sparing match. Even Jory Cassel, his captain of the guard, was down on one knee, gasping for breath while he leaned heavily on his tourney blade.

And standing amid the carnage was the newest addition to Winterfell, Alim Nox. Unlike the guards of Winterfell, who were all scattered, wounded and exhausted, the foreigner appeared barely winded as he stood calmly in the center of the ring with his tourney blade lazily relaxing across his shoulder and the only sign of obvious exertion on him was the light sheen of sweat across his brow. "Come now, Jory," Nox sighed, as Jory struggled to rise to his feet and bring his sword up. "This is almost getting tedious by this point. Why don't we just call it and end this charade?"

Rising shakily to his feet, Jory brought his tourney blade up into a mid-guard and set his feet. But even from the distance he was at, Ned could see that Jory was struggling to even keep hold of the blade let alone to attack. "I will never back down!"

Sighing, Nox raised his blade off his shoulder and settled into a stance Ned had never encountered before. His feet were spread wide and his body turned slight with his left hand and arm extended straight out while he held his blade above his head in his right hand so that it was almost perpendicular to his arm. "Very well then. Let us end this then."

With a cry, Jory lunged for Nox, his form perfect and his blade steady as it traveled the distance aiming to pierce Nox in the chest. But at the last second Nox moved, his blade slicing down and altering the direction of the lunge to pass him by. Jory tried to pull up, but he was committed, and his momentum wouldn't allow him to go any other direction than forward. And as he passed Nox by, the foreigner slashed back up. Striking Jory unimpeded into his chest. The force of the strike, combined with his Captain's forward movement, lifted Jory clear off his feet and brought him down onto the ground hard flat on his back. And before he could even make a move to recover, Nox had brought his tourney blade back down so that the tip was now pointed directly at Jory's exposed throat.

"I…yield."

Pulling his sword away, Nox held out his hand for Jory while around the yard the men and women of Winterfell either cheered or groaned as more than a few pulled out a few coins and passed them to people around them. But before Ned could make his presence known, Nox turned directly towards him and inclined his head before announcing his presence in a loud and clear voice, "Lord Stark."

All noise in the courtyard died as everyone turned towards him. Holding his head up, he steadily made his way towards the ring, taking note of the guilty look in the eyes of his guards and especially in the eyes of Jory. 'Regardless of what caused this little spar, all of them have just been defeated by a foreigner. A foreigner that they outnumbered by a large margin. And in front of their liege lord no less.'

"Nox," Ned greeted the man, still unsure of just how to address him properly. He was obviously a highborn given his manner of speech and dress, but he'd yet to give himself a title. Only Jon had done that. "May I ask what brought this about?"

Nox merely shrugged. "Just a minor dispute on the viability of different training methods and what can be introduced to increase the combat effectiveness of your men, my Lord."

Looking around again, Ned took careful note of all his beaten and bruised men. They were his best. And they had all just been humiliated by a man who didn't even look like he'd exerted himself at all in taking them down. Deep within him, he could feel wolfsbood blood he constantly kept him check come to life. His man, this stranger, came into his home and embarrassed his best without hardly breaking a sweat. He could not let this stand.

"I see." Ned said simply, reaching up and unsnapping the clasps that held his overcoat in place and removing it from his shoulders.

The entire courtyard began muttering again as he made his way over towards Robb and Jon. Handing his cloak off to his son, he took the tourney blade that Jory offered him and made his way to the center of the training yard while giving the blade a few almost lazy swipes through the air to get used to the weight. While he did, he could feel the wolf within him starting to stalk back and forth as it always did before Ned fought. 'No,' he thought back, forcing the wolf within him back down as the lessons taught to him by Jon Arryn came to the forefront of his mind. 'I must be calm. Collected. I cannot let the wolfsblood control me.'

He could almost feel the wolf within howl in agony as he forced the beast back into its cage. Now was not the time. He had to focus. Be calm. It was the wolfsblood that got him into this situation before he could even realize it. He would not allow the same wolfsblood that cause his sister's and brother's deaths to cause any more trouble here today.

Across from him, Nox tilted his head slightly to the side, his covered eyes staring at him without looking almost as if he knew the conflict raging within Ned. "Interesting." Nox commented before resuming the same stance he had against Jory, feet widespread, sword held in the air and left hand extended. "Let us see what you can do, Lord Stark."

Sliding his front foot forward, Ned made an exploratory thrust at Nox. His opponent immediately countered with the same move he'd used against Jory just a moment ago, bringing his blade down to redirect his thrust before countering with a reverse slash aimed for Ned's chest. But unlike Jory, Ned was ready and moved his body to side enough to evade the slash and counterattack. His attack met nothing but air as Nox skillfully sidestepped his attack and reset himself just out of range of Ned's reach.

For the next few minutes, Ned continued to make probes at Nox, trying to find some sort of weakness or flaw in his technique, yet he found none. The man's defense was perfect. His stance, while strange, positioned Nox to deflect and counter everything Ned threw at him. And his footwork was beyond excellent as he deftly moved around Ned while they fought. Yet for all his defense and evasion, Nox had yet to launch a single attack against him.

The wolf within him was howling in rage, struggling against the binds Ned had placed on it as it stalked back and forth, begging to be let lose. 'No.' Ned thought viciously. 'I let you lose once before! And I lost my head and it cost a life! It made her turn from me…I can't let you out again!'

Deflecting yet another of Ned's attacks, Nox planted his foot clearly in Ned's gut, forcing the wind from his lungs and making him take a step back to avoid his follow up attack. An attack that never came as Nox just stood there, his sword lowered, and his guard gone. "You can't win like this, Lord Stark."

Coughing and catching his breath, Ned righted himself and brought up his guard. "What do you mean?"

He could almost see the eye roll behind the man's covered eyes and for a moment, he was back as a boy in the Eyre being tutored by Jon Arryn and his Master at Arms. "You can't fight us both and hope to win, Lord Stark."

Ned was brought up short by the comment. 'He…He can't know…can he?'

"The wolf, Lord Stark." Nox continued, confirming that, somehow, he did in fact know about his inner struggle. "The wolf, if you want to call it that, wants to be let free, Lord Stark. It's part of you. Call it your instinct if you will. You cannot fight me while trying to keep a reign on the wolf at the same time. And if you want any hope of besting me, then you will need the wolf." Swinging his sword around almost lazily, Nox resumed his stance. Only to change it a moment later as he held onto the blade with two hands while bringing the hilt to his back shoulder with the blade pointed at the sky. "And if you won't let go willingly, then I will force it out of you!"

The next instant, it was as if Ned was fighting a completely different opponent as Nox dropped all defense and went on the offensive. His blade was little more than a blur as Nox swung the blade almost wildly, his body twisting and turning as it went with the momentum of his blade. And it was all Ned could do to keep his guard up against the seemingly unending onslaught of attacks that Nox was raining down on him.

Eventually Ned could no long keep up with the onslaught and one of Nox's swings caught Ned clear in the gut, knocking the wind out of him and sending him to his knees as he coughed, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. Holding his hand out, Ned stopped the servants and his guards from rushing to him, as he no doubt knew that they were.

Raising a hand to his mouth, Ned wiped at the blood forming on his lips and looked down at his own hand in wonder as he stared down at blood, his blood, that coated his hand. Within him, the wolf howled in anger and for once, Ned did nothing to stop it as he slowly rose to his feet. He'd been humiliated in his own home. Bested by a man he didn't know. A man who knew nothing of the North. A man who knew nothing of winter. Who knew nothing of House Stark and the wolfsblood. Yet who dared to say that Ned stood no chance against him. Deep within the cage he kept it in, the wolf howled again, this time in freedom as Ned let go and unleashed the wolf within. 'He wants to see the wolf.' Ned thought as he spat a wad of blood out of his mouth and reaffirmed his hold on his tourney blade. A smile coming to his lips as he reveled in the fight to come as the wolfsblood took hold. 'Then that is what he'll get!'

Rushing forward, Ned met Nox's attack with one of his own. Their blades locking for the briefest of moments before separating as the two began dancing around one another, their blades striking one another with the strength of a blacksmiths hammer on an anvil. As it did back when he fought Arthur Dayne, time seemed to almost slow as Ned seemed to know exactly where and when Nox would attack and where and when he would be open. But unlike his fight years ago, when he last let the wolf be free, this time not only did Nox keep pace with him, but he almost seemed to be…pushing him. Whenever Ned would match Nox blow for blow, the man almost seemed to speed up slightly, forcing Ned to call on the wolfsblood more and more as he fought harder than ever before to keep pace with the foreigner.

Everything around the two of them disappeared into nothingness, leaving only Ned and Nox as he focused in on his opponent while the wolf within him continue guiding him, letting him match Nox blow for blow. As Nox changed from one move to the next, he saw it. A slight opening when he turned to his left. Waiting like the patient wolf he was, Ned lunged for the opening the moment he saw it once more.

But Nox defied all laws of logic as his body bent backwards until his head nearly touched the ground behind him in order to avoid his attack. And then he twisted, his body never leaving its angle as he twirled around and behind Ned. Pain exploded through his legs as his knees collapsed as Nox's blade struck him in the back of the leg. Before his knees could hit the ground, Nox's hand was on his shoulder and the tip of the tourney blade was pointed at his throat.

"Well done, Lord Stark," Nox stated, his breath coming and going in rapid pants. "Well done indeed."

Blinking, Ned felt the rush of the wolfsblood leave him, leaving him lightheaded enough that he would've fallen forward if not for Nox holding him steady. "You as well, Master Nox." Ned wasn't sure if 'Master' was the correct term to call Nox or not. But he was without a doubt a master with a blade, so the term seemed adequate for now.

Doing his best to hide just how much he was relying on Nox to steady him, Ned rose shakily to his feet. Taking a deep breath of the cold northern air, it was all Ned could do to remain standing as he turned towards Nox. "Your training is, indeed, most impressive," Ned conceded. "If you are willing to train the men of Winterfell, I will be grateful for your aid."

Nox merely nodded, no sign of bravado nor superiority showing on his face. "I will have a training regime drawn up and delivered to you by the end of the week, Lord Stark."

"Good," Ned nodded, turning away from Nox and facing the crowd.

It seemed as if the crowd surrounding them had grown to the point where everyone in Winterfell had watched the duel. Even his wife Cat and his young daughters, Sansa and Arya, were in attendance. And everyone was staring at Ned and Nox in complete silence. Cat was looking at him like he'd grown two heads, and Sansa and Arya were staring at him in the much the same manner. Jon and Robb however, they were both staring at the two of them with open mouths and shocked expressions on their faces. Blinking, Ned turned around slowly to survey crowd. Just about every face was a mirror of Cat or his children's. 'Hells…When did everyone get here? How long were we sparing for? And…why are they looking at us like we are two of the old gods come back to life?'

"Alright," Ser Rodrik called out, saving Ned from having to say anything as he stood awkwardly before the assembled crowd. "You all have duties you need to see too! Now clear out!"

Everyone in the yard immediately began to disperse save for Cat and his children. Robb was the first to speak up, running up to him with a large grin on his face as he nearly bounced with excitement. "That was…That was amazing, father! Is that what your fight with Arthur Dayne was like?! Was Nox tougher than Ser Dayne? How did you move so fast? Did it hurt when—"

"Robb, give your father some space," Cat cut in sharply, reprimanding their son who backed down under his mother's gaze. "Husband, are you alright? That…man seemed to have landed a few hard blows."

Given her tone, he could tell that she wasn't pleased by that. Not by the fact that Ned was bested, but more by the fact that Nox dared strike him. "Aye, he did land a few good ones." Ned acknowledged, rolling his shoulders and his knee slightly to try and lessen some of the pain in them. "But it was as expected. I would've been insulted if he'd held back against me. A few bruises are the cost of training in the yard. And a lesson for the future. Remember that boys."

"Yes, father."

"Yes, fa – Lord Stark."

Ned didn't miss the way that Jon quickly corrected himself, nor did he miss the slight twitch in Cat's eye at Jon's correction. "Good." Ned nodded. "Now, off with you lot. You all have your evening lessons before dinner. I expect to hear good things from the Maester and Septa on your progress tonight."

Biding his children and wife goodbye, after taking a moment to reassure Cat that he was in fact fine, Ned made his way back to the yard, searching out Ser Rodrik. He quickly found the man talking with his nephew near the weapons rack. The two were talking in harsh, whispered tones with the younger of the two frequently motioning with his arms in a manner that suggested he was trying to figure out some of the techniques and moves that Nox had used during the spar.

"Ser Rodrik, Jory."

"My Lord," both men bowed, cutting off their conversation as he made his presence known to them.

Hanging up his tourney blade, Ned faced the two men he trusted more than any other when it came to martial prowess here in Winterfell. "Tell me what you think of Nox."