Eddard Stark sighed as he gazed out over the northern landscape. The North was a harsh and unforgiving place, not merely because of its climate but because of the constant threats that loomed over it. The Wall, the massive barrier built to protect the realms of men from the wilds beyond, was the first line of defense—but what if it failed? Whether the attackers were Free Folk or the legendary Others, the North would bear the brunt of any invasion.
Eddard rubbed his temple. He had barely managed to solve his own family's troubles, and now he was being asked to address a threat that could imperil all of Westeros. Meanwhile, the fools in the South continued their petty squabbles, battling over a rotten chair that was more ornamental than useful. If only there were a way to let the Others march unimpeded all the way to King's Landing, to the Westerlands, the Reach, and the Stormlands… perhaps then the shortsighted rulers of the South would understand the true meaning of fear, of cold, and of death.
But Eddard was powerless to do such a thing. All he could do was strengthen his own position, shore up defenses, and prepare for the inevitable arrival of winter and whatever else might emerge from the shadowed lands beyond the Wall.
In the original course of events, Stannis Baratheon had lost much of his capital in the Battle of Blackwater and then moved north to subdue the Free Folk, gradually bringing order to the chaos. If Stannis could accomplish such a feat, perhaps Eddard thought, he could do something similar. But one step at a time. Everything had to be methodical, deliberate.
"Robb." Eddard's voice broke into the silence of Winterfell's study.
"Thoughts?" Robb Stark tilted his head, surprised by the question, and then answered honestly. "They are nothing more than legends. Maester Luwin has often told me that the Others never existed. No living man has seen them for thousands of years."
Eddard shrugged but did not argue. Instead, he allowed a small, dry smile to touch his lips. "Not necessarily," he replied. "Perhaps in the past, those who did see them perished, and their tales were lost with them. Even if someone claimed to have seen something unnatural, the living would have dismissed them as mad."
He gestured toward a grotesque, fierce-looking chess piece on the table. It represented the lands Beyond the Wall, near the Fist of the First Men. "And now, those same Others may be driving the Free Folk to cross the Wall in desperation, fleeing a darkness we cannot yet comprehend."
Robb's blue eyes widened. "You mean the Free Folk gathered at the Milkwater to escape the Others? They've come all this way to reach the Wall?"
Eddard nodded. "Whether they know it or not, the Wall is not just a barrier; it is a centuries-old fortress laced with ancient spells. Its purpose has always been to keep the Others at bay. And the Free Folk, despite their rebellious ways, are probably aware of this danger."
The implications weighed heavily on Robb. Winter, already harsh in the North, could become catastrophic if these legends were true. He felt a chill creep through his body, an icy tremor that made him clutch the back of a chair near the hearth. "No! This cannot be true!" he said, though his voice lacked conviction. Kings seldom believed in what they could not see. Some ignored warnings entirely; others dismissed them as superstition. Even the Night's Watch, responsible for guarding the Wall, often invented crises to secure men from the Seven Kingdoms.
Eddard did not attempt to argue. He simply smiled and said, "True or not, it has already happened. Climb the Wall yourself, meet with Mance Rayder, the King-Beyond-the-Wall, and you will understand the scope of the problem."
Robb's expression softened, a mixture of relief and surprise crossing his features. "You are willing to go to the Wall?"
Eddard met his nephew's gaze steadily. "Of course. The North is my home, and you are my blood kin, my in-law. I have no intention of allowing anything to threaten you. If the Night's Watch needs support, I will provide it."
He reached for two cups and poured the mulled wine that simmered by the hearth. The aroma of cloves and nutmeg filled the room, warming both their spirits and their bodies. "It isn't a difficult task," he continued. "With sufficient supplies, my men, and the Night's Watch's few hundred offenders, we can handle the Free Folk attempting to sneak past the Wall. And even if the Others are real, the Wall itself will do most of the heavy lifting."
The Wall was a marvel of construction: entirely ice and stone, towering 200 meters high, stretching nearly 480 kilometers. Even on horseback, patrolling it once could take more than ten days, and poor weather could easily double that time. Climbing it was even more perilous—only the most skilled raiders could attempt it, and death was nearly guaranteed without the aid of magic or ingenuity. One-third of climbers perished before ever reaching the summit, and a handful of defenders could repel hundreds. The North had long relied on the Wall as a deterrent, and the Free Folk had never mastered its secrets.
Robb nodded, a mixture of concern and resolve etched on his features. "Then eliminate the Free Folk, and ensure that King-Beyond-the-Wall understands one thing: the North cannot, will not, be invaded. My people's lives are non-negotiable."
Eddard took another sip of wine, savoring the heat as it spread through him. "And if… if the Others are real, and Jon Snow can confirm it?"
Robb's jaw tightened. "Then we do whatever is necessary to preserve the North. We fight, and we survive. Nothing more."
Eddard leaned forward, his voice calm but firm. "Perhaps we should consider another approach. Subdue the Free Folk, and enlist them as allies against the Others."
Robb's expression darkened. "Subdue them? They are unruly, violent, and untrusting. Many Northern lords would never agree to harbor such savages."
Eddard nodded. "Indeed, they are dangerous. But they are also strong, adaptable, and resilient. If we do this correctly, we could gain an advantage worth ten thousand trained men. If we fail… the North will descend into chaos. It is a double-edged sword, but one we can manage."
He leaned back, a faint smirk forming. "We do not need them to kneel. We need them to fight, to defend the North. In return, we offer them a piece of land, a home where they can belong. The New Gift and the lands around Dreadfort are ideal. Split them into manageable groups, give them responsibility, and hold them accountable. Replace the treacherous, cunning Boltons with wild, yet trustworthy Free Folk."
Robb rubbed his chin, pacing thoughtfully. The firelight flickered across his face, casting shadows that mirrored his inner conflict. "Winterfell cannot currently feed them," he said. "They would soon return to banditry if left unchecked. My lords would object, Jon Umber would be furious, and Lady Maege would resent me."
Eddard's eyes gleamed with cunning. "The first batch of supplies from Gulltown has already reached White Harbor. They can be used to feed the Free Folk. Moreover, these supplies are intended to exchange for Lord Tarly, currently imprisoned in Twin River City. Logistics are already in place. They eat, they fight, and the North gains both protection and opportunity."
Robb's face brightened. He realized he had overlooked the strategic advantage this plan offered. The North could strengthen its position without exhausting its own resources. By cleverly leveraging diplomacy and logistics, the Free Folk could be transformed from a potential threat into a powerful ally.
"In that case," Robb said, a trace of excitement in his voice, "we can attempt it. One step at a time."
Eddard smiled, leaning back in his chair, finally relaxing. "Leave it to me. Jon Snow, once appointed Lord Commander, will understand the urgency. Those who object will not stand in our way. And those who cannot adapt…" He allowed a shadow of amusement to cross his face. "…will simply be removed from the equation."
Robb exhaled slowly, a weight lifting from his shoulders. At last, there was a plan, a way to protect the North from both the Free Folk and the encroaching horrors of the Others. For the first time in weeks, he felt a glimmer of hope amid the ever-growing darkness of winter.
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