There is a time skip in the story.
New characters.
Rickon Stark name change to Arty or Artos Stark.
Aldric Valen Stark - Son of Artos and Seraphine born in 289AC
Sera Valen Stark or Seraphine Stark - Daughter of Artos and Seraphine born in 295 AC.
Bjorn - son of Artos and Yor 285 AC
Rickon MoorStark and Lyanna MoorStark - son and daughter of Benjen MoorStark
Chapter 95: The Changed Man
Year - 299 AC
Winterfell,
Winterfell had changed little in its stones and shadows, yet the life within its walls had changed enough to make the difference plain.
The yard rang with the sounds of boys at play, with the bark and the distant calls of stableboys leading horses from one place to another.
Bran Stark ran hard across the outer grounds to find his youngest brother, his boots biting into the frozen earth as he looked this way and that.
"Arty!" he shouted. "Arty, where are you?"
His youngest brother was not hard to find, only hard to keep still.
At last Bran spotted him near the training ground, half hidden by the movement of a large black shape that bounded around him in the snow. Arty was seven years old and already carried himself like a child who had no intention of ever being still if he could help it. He was laughing as he ducked away from his direwolf Shaggydog, who snapped at his heels with all the patience of a beast indulging a beloved fool.
Bran slowed as he neared them. "There you are."
Arty grinned up at him, cheeks red from the cold. "You were calling?"
"Yes. Come with me. Everyone's together upstairs."
Arty's face brightened at once. "Everyone?"
"Everyone," Bran said. "Robb, Jon, Sansa, Bjorn, even Aldric is there."
At that, Arty's grin widened into something gleeful. "Is there cake?"
Bran shook his head in mock disgust. "You think first of cake?"
"I think of important things first," Arty said solemnly.
Bran snorted. "Then come along before they eat it all."
Arty gave one last pat to Shaggydog, who followed after him without hesitation. Behind them came Summer, silent as a shadow, pale fur bright against the snow. The two direwolves moved with the children as if they were part of the same brood.
The climb back into the castle was warmer, but only by degrees. Winterfell held the cold in its walls even at the best of times. Bran and Arty made their way upward through the familiar halls until they reached the room where their brothers, sisters, and cousins had gathered.
Robb sat in the center like a young lord already used to being obeyed, though his face carried more amusement than authority just then. Jon was near him, quiet as ever, while Sansa sat with the composed air she always wore when she meant to appear older than she was. Arya was there too, restless even while seated, and beside her stood Aldric, older than the two youngest children, but you younger than the rest.
Margaery Tyrell sat near Sansa, elegant even in the northern cold, while Loras Tyrell leaned nearby with the ease of a man who had long since stopped acting like a stranger in Winterfell. They had lived among the Starks long enough now that their presence no longer startled anyone. They were part of the household's shape, part of the daily rhythm of the castle.
Robb looked up first and gave Bran and Arty a crooked smile. "So the troublemakers have finally come."
Bran rolled his eyes. Arty merely grinned, entirely unbothered.
"We were delayed by important business," Arty said.
"What business?" Arya asked at once.
"Looking for cake," he said with complete seriousness.
Loras laughed before anyone else could answer, and even Margaery's mouth twitched with amusement.
Arty looked around again, then frowned. "Where is Bjorn? I thought he would be here."
Aldric answered before anyone else could. "He went to tuck Sera into bed. It was her hour for sleep. Father would not like to find her still awake this late."
At once several voices rose together.
"Aye."
"He would not."
Arya crossed her arms. "Uncle Artos is very particular about Sera."
"Aye," Sansa said softly.
Robb nodded.
Even Jon gave a small, silent agreement.
Bjorn entered the room just in time to hear the laughter that followed. He paused at the doorway, caught in the act of becoming the subject of everyone else's amusement.
Robb tilted his head toward him. "Tucking Sera in, was it? You know what happens if you earn Uncle Artos's displeasure in matters concerning her."
Bjorn sighed as if he had heard the joke a hundred times before, which perhaps he had.
Aldric shook his head at Bjorn, though there was fondness in it. "Do not be so hard on him. Father is very protective of Sera."
The room broke into easy laughter at Bjorn's expense, and Bjorn, who had long since learned to endure such things with patience, only shook his head.
Arty, being the youngest and most inclined to speak first and think later, lifted his chin.
"I do not understand it," he said. "Uncle Artos is kind. He smiles all the time. He is always polite. I have never seen him shout in anger, or even carry a sword. He seems like the sort of man who would never hurt anyone."
That won a few quiet nods from the younger children.
Bran agreed at once. "He is always kind to us."
Arya, too, gave a firm little nod.
Sansa was slower, but in the end she said, "Aye. He is sweet, in his way. I have never seen him with a weapon either. Not for years atleast."
That made the older boys exchange glances.
Jon's expression did not change much, but there was something thoughtful in his eyes.
"He is a good man," he said at last. "But there is more to him than what most people see now."
Robb leaned back in his chair. "Aye. Sea Dragon Point itself should tell you that much."
Bran turned at once. "What about Sea Dragon Point?"
Robb gave a small smile, as if he had expected the question. "It is not only a trading hold, though it is one of the richest in the North now. The Valens helped with that, and the Manderlys too, and Uncle Artos's own hand in Essos brought more coin and trade than most lords could dream of. But Sea Dragon Point is more than gold."
Bjorn crossed his arms. "It is also where the Winter Guards are trained."
At that, even the younger children quieted.
"The Winter Guards?" Arty repeated.
Bjorn nodded. "The men Father trains for Winterfell. Not just household swords. Something harder. Better. Men who can fight in all weather, in all terrain, and without breaking under pressure."
Aldric leaned forward. "Like the Unsullied?" asked who knew about it and heard it somewhere in Bravos from his Grandfather Lord Valen.
Robb snorted. "Aye, I heard from Ser Waymar, that he took inspiration from them. But they are still men and still have fear in thier eyes, and that is the difference."
"Not that it makes them any less dangerous, i have done spar with them . Really Dangerous." Loras said from where he stood with his arms folded.
That drew several curious looks in his direction.
He smiled faintly and went on. "I saw enough of your uncle in the Reach to know that he is not merely a smiling lord . When he came to take Margaery north, it was no simple request and no simple bargain. He had the sort of manner that made even my Grandmother have trouble."
Margaery tilted her head and gave a soft laugh. "You make it sound as though we were kidnapped."
Loras's grin widened. "Were we not?"
Margaery's eyes narrowed, but there was amusement in them. "You speak too freely."
"I survived Grandmother's displeasure," Loras said, "which is more than most men can claim. But talking with Grandmother like Lord Artos has done is not a small thing that day."
That earned laughter all around, though Bjorn shook his head as if he had heard this story before. "Father did what he had to. He had been that way. In the training yard, he was worse than any drillmaster. He has the guards march in storms, fight in mud, swim in cold water, and repeat the same movements until their arms shake. He says war does not wait for good weather."
Arty looked suitably impressed. "That sounds horrible."
"It is," Bjorn said.
"And effective, I and Bjorn also done it. It was quite a experience " Jon added quietly.
Aldric shifted where he stood. "He used to carry daggers in his clothes when I was small. I remember seeing them there more than once. After Mother died, he stopped. Or perhaps he simply had no need of them any longer. I don't know but he seemed more worried about Sera and me . More about Sera though," Aldric laughs.
The room grew just a little quieter at that.
No one said Seraphine's name aloud at first.
They did not need to.
She was always there, in the silence around Artos's house, in the chain he wore in his hands, the chain which held a ring if His lover that he always carries upon his hand, in the tenderness with which he spoke of Seraphine Valen .
Bran looked between the others. "Was he really so terrible before?"
Robb and Jon exchanged a glance.
Then Robb said, "Not terrible but also not this peaceful also. When I was young when he came and went in and out of Winterfell, but aye. I saw enough to know. Men feared and respected him."
Jon nodded once. "I was at Sea Dragon Point getting raised there by Uncle Artos. He was a bit different then. "
Bjorn gave a small, grim smile. "He was more fearsome then. Not cruel,But hard. Very hard."
Arya looked thoughtful. "So what is true?"
"That he is both," Sansa said before anyone else could answer. "Maybe he is changed now. Or he is tired of life he lived and now wants a change , especially when Aunt Seraphine died while giving birth to Sera."
Before anyone could say more, Bran caught on. His eyes moved from Robb to Jon to Bjorn, then to Aldric, then back again.
"There are stories, aren't there?" he asked.
Robb's mouth twitched. "Too many."
Arty bounced on his heels. "Then tell us."
But before anyone could begin, Robb stood.
"We could ask Maester Luwin," he said. "He knows more than any of us about Uncle Artos before he was a lord."
That seemed to settle the mattee immediately.
The children rose in a small rush, all talking at once, and the older ones followed in amusement as the whole little company moved through the corridors toward the maester's chambers.
Maester Luwin looked genuinely surprised to see them all arrive together.
"My lords, my ladies," he said, opening the door wider. "This is an unusual gathering. Has something happened?"
Robb gave him a polite bow of the head. "Nothing has happened. We only have some questions."
Luwin's brows rose. "Questions?"
"About Uncle Artos," Bran said.
That made the maester pause.
For a moment he looked as if he were deciding how much to say, and to whom, and in what order.
"Well," he said at last, "Lord Artos is the youngest of your father's generation and He is also one of the wealthiest, and most respected. I imagine that is what you already know."
"That is not what we mean," Arya said impatiently. "We want to know what he was like before he became a lord."
Luwin's lips curved. "Ah. Then you ask about a different man."
The children leaned in. Clearly excited.
"In childhood," he said, "he was a troublesome boy."
Arty immediately frowned. "Like me?"
Luwin chuckled. "Very much like you, in truth. Lord Ned used to say he would never have named you after his younger brother if he had known the child would grow up with such a talent for trouble like his brother."
That drew a round of groans from the younger children and an amused smile from the older ones.
"But that is not all," Robb said. "We have heard more than that."
Luwin's expression shifted, as if he knew very well what they meant and was deciding how to answer.
Robb " I have heard some names that men used to call Uncle Artos in my childhood and even now."
The maester folded his hands into his sleeves. "There are many things spoken of Lord Artos in the North and beyond it. One-Eyed Stark is the name most common these days, of course, because it is plain enough and true enough. The left eye is gone, as all the realm knows."
The younger children looked unconvinced.
Robb , Jon and Bjorn frowned and spoke together. "We meant the other name."
For a moment there was silence.
Then the older ones, almost as one, spoke the word.
"DemonWolf."
---
Hi first of all how did you like the change and skip.
Second, i might be little less regular this week. My father has check up after his surgery. So might be busy. Please pray and hope everything goes all right. Wish and pray he gets better results.
Second, I might not be regular but my friend recently started a book of his own. It's slow paced but I like the idea
It's called Jon 'The Wild Wolf' sorry can't put link right now . Busy . So if want to check this out. I gave some suggestions in the story also. It's but differently paced . I like the story overall, well i contributed in it so call it a bias. So check it out of you want.
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