Song of A Northern Sorcerer

Sitting in the tent that'd been set up for him, Nox sat cross legged on the floor in a deep state of meditation as he stretched out his senses towards the western end of the island where the keep of Pyke, the stronghold of the Greyjoys, stood. He could sense thousands of souls rushing about the keep doing their best to prepare the defenses while they still had time to do so. But despite his deep state of mediation, he couldn't discern the Greyjoys amongst the mass gathering of individuals. There were some that had a slightly higher than normal presence in the Force, but none were at the level where they could be considered 'Force sensitive'.

The slightest of sensations at the corner of his senses brought him out of his trance as he rose just in time for a Stark guard to duck his head into his tent. "Forgive the intrusion, mi'lord." That was one thing that Nox had been more than pleased with. Ever since his 'duel' with the Lannister men, all the soldiers in the camp had been treating him as if he were a true Lord, even if he didn't technically hold the title in this land. "But your guest is here as you requested."

"Good," Nox nodded. "Show her in and then make yourself and the others around this tent scarce."

"Aye, mi'lord," the solider mumbled, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to leave the tent and see to it that his orders were carried out.

He didn't have to wait long for his 'guest' to arrive as the tent flap was still for but a second before being pulled aside again and letting her in. Through the Force he could tell that the woman was attractive, no doubt the reason why she'd been the target earlier in the day. But that beauty was now marred by a swelling of a fist size bruise on the side of her face. Despite that though, and despite what'd happened to her and her daughter, she held herself with a strength that said that she would not be broken. But under that strength there was something else entirely. A heavy weight in her soul. And a feeling of…reservation yet…acceptance. How curious.

"You asked for me, my lord?"

'And she has now given herself away.' Nox thought to himself as he turned and face the woman proper. "Yes, I did."

He could feel her nervousness, but regardless of how she felt, she kept herself firm. Admirable. "What do you require of me, my lord?"

Kicking open a folding stool, Nox arranged his robes around him and sat down. "I'm not one to beat around the bush, so I'll be blunt and honest. And wish for you to do the same. Now, let's start with your name, your daughter's name, and where you hail from."

The woman hesitated, but not for long. "My name is Bethany and my daughter's name is Hilda, my lord. And we hail from the island of Blacktyde. My family was…poor but they managed to arrange a marriage for me to my husband."

"Hmm, not bad. But still a lie." Nox remarked. "Your accent betrays you, as well as your hatred for the Iron Islands and the man that was your former husband. Your accent, no matter how faint, has betrayed you. You are not from the Iron Islands, nor from the North. If I had to guess, I would say the Riverlands as they are frequently raided by the Ironborn. And you are educated as well, it shows in the way you speak. Which means you are noble born. Not very high nobility or your absence would've been well known, possibly even enough to start this war earlier. A Knightly House sworn to a lesser House. And by your sudden spike of anger towards your family and your bout of nervousness, your family more than likely gave you away as some sort of tribute to prevent a raid on their lands. More than likely without informing you until you were already on the boat and on your way to become a fish or a saltwife. How am I doing so far?"

Bethany stood stock still. Her fear, anger and nerves warring within her tearing away at the wall she'd formed around herself. "I…I –"

"I thought that I said that we will not be beating around the bush with one another," Nox cut her off, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "Given what happened today, I will let this slide and we will start again."

Her resolve returning, Bethany nodded. "You are right my Lord. About everything. I was born to small Knightly House sworn to House Frey near the border of the Neck. Years ago, during the reign of the Mad King, a small contingent of Ironborn came to my father's lands and delivered an ultimatum. Give them tribute or be raided. My father didn't have much, but he did have me, a second daughter. So, he gave me to them. By the time I came too, we were halfway to the Iron Islands. By the time we reached the islands…half the crew had had their way with me."

"The past is painful," Nox acknowledged. "But it is what helps shape us into what we are today. But I have not called you here to speak of the past, but rather the future. Your future, and that of your daughter's, to be precise."

The woman's nerves returned ten-fold as she began shifting her weight from foot to foot. "What of our future, my lord?"

Rolling his neck, he took a moment to let her anxiety build before speaking. "You cannot stay here on this island. You know that as well as I. If you did, you and your daughter would more than likely be taken by someone worse than your late husband. Nor do you wish to return to your home as they more than likely believe you to be dead, and even if you did return, they would force you to get rid of your daughter and then your father or brother would turn around and sell you off like a broodmare as nobility often does. You can make a go of it on your own in a new land of course. But with no money nor connections, you'd more than likely end up selling yourself on a street corner or begging just to get by until your true skills can be utilized. And as for I, I am not necessarily one for charity. Not unless it can benefit either myself or my long-term plans in some manner. So, what options do you think you have? Not only for your future, but for your daughter's future as well? And remember, I am not one to offer help unless I can be benefited as well."

With each word, he could feel Bethany sinking slowly into a melancholy state of being. But by the time he was done, despite being in a such state, she had resolve of iron as well. Her hands, shaky though they were, slowly rose to either of her shoulders and began pulling down on her dress, exposing herself to him.

"Stop," he said, his words freezing her in place as surely as if he'd cocooned her in the Force. "Your resolve is commendable, but I am not one to take an unwilling to my bed. Especially one that has had such a traumatic event such as rape happen to them. Perhaps in time such a thing between us could develop, but not today. Selling your body to me is not why I called you here. I'm far more interested in your particular skill set that you've used to keep yourself and your daughter safe on these islands."

Shame burned through the woman, as well as curiosity and a touch of anger at being rejected so as she scrambled to redress herself. "What do you mean, my lord?"

Pointing to a small table near the wall of his tent, Nox drew her attention to the two items upon it. A throwing axe and a familiar small book. "Your husband was, at best, a mediocre smith. Yet Lords from all over the Iron Islands came to him. Not necessarily for the axes, but rather for the delicate runic work that'd been etched onto the surface. Your work. Yours and your daughter's. And then the book: financial summaries, loan amounts, business transactions, all of it written in a delicate hand. Your hand. And most recently, a second set of hands just as delicate, but slower and more deliberate. Your daughter's hand. You're an artist and you've taught your daughter how to read and write. That is what I'm interested in now."

Rising from his stool, he slowly approached the woman. "Lord Stark has given me free reign to improve Winterfell in several different areas as I see fit, as long as such improvements benefit the North. The problem is, I'm only one man. And despite what some may think, I am not all powerful. But with your help, I believe I might be able to continue onwards with some of my more mundane objectives. Work for me, and I promise you safety in the North at Winterfell for not only yourself but your daughter as well. And you will not have to worry about some man deciding to sell you or your daughter off to some random lord or other just so they can benefit. So, those are your options. Return to your home. Go on the run. Or come north and build a new life for your family with my backing."

He didn't need to wait long for an answer as Bethany almost immediately nodded her agreement. A life in Winterfell with his backing and without of fear of either herself or her daughter being sold off again. The offer was far too good not to accept. "I accept your offer, Lord Nox. Tell me what you need of me, and I will do my best not to disappoint you."

"Splendid," Nox nodded, picking up the small journal from the table and giving it back to you. "I've outlined the plans I want you to help me with in here. You will spend the remainder of our time here on the Iron Islands familiarizing yourself with such plans and adding your own details to them. The moment we return to the North, I expect you to begin implementation. Is that agreeable?"

Taking the journal, Bethany immediately nodded. "Yes, my lord."

"Good," Nox nodded before motioning her for towards the tent flap. "Oh, there is one more thing. Do you have any of your husband's clothes left?"

Watching the last of the Mormont men unload from the boat that'd brought them to the Iron Islands, Ned Stark quietly pondered what'd transpired over the past three days. Or, more specifically, he pondered just where Nox had disappeared to the very same night after he killed five of Tywin Lannister's men. The morning after he'd gone to confer with Nox as to the next potential step and was met with an empty tent. Nox had somehow managed to disappear during the night without leaving any note as to where he was going nor had he alerted any guards.

He'd been moments shy of heading to Tywin Lannister and demanding answers before the woman Nox had saved, Bethany, managed to get word to him that she spoke with Nox the night before and that she wished to speak with him. Thankfully, the woman had answers, although far fewer than Ned wanted. Nox had apparently talked to the woman the night before and had made her an offer to stay under his protection and to see her and her daughter back to Winterfell where they could begin a new life, free from the Ironborn.

While Nox offering such a thing without Ned's knowledge or approval did irk him more than slightly, he trusted Nox's judgment. He'd earned that much. But he would still have to talk to the sorcerer about not overstepping his authority in the future. Especially as Ned was about to allow Jon and Robb to begin taking lessons from the man. But besides informing him of the offer from Nox, the woman had little to no explanation about Nox's whereabouts. All she could tell him was that Nox asked for a change of her late husband's clothes, changed into said clothes, and then disappeared into the night with hardly a word nor glance back. It was utterly confusing and more than a little frustrating.

Robert had been just a hair's breadth away from picking up his war hammer and giving chase the moment Ned informed him of Nox's disappearance. He managed to calm his friend, if only momentarily, by telling him that it wasn't uncommon for Nox to disappear for days at time, which was a mild truth as Nox disappeared once or twice during his moon's stay at Winterfell, and that the most likely scenario was that the sorcerer was merely scouting the island. A tale that Ned hoped to the old gods was true. Robert, while interested in Nox for what he could do, was still uncertain about him due to his very Valyrian looks. Ned needed the man to prove himself a valuable asset to his liege despite his looks. And the sooner he did so, the sooner Ned would be able to breathe easier.

But now, now Nox was out of time. He'd been gone for three days and the last of the Northern forces had arrived, which meant that on the morrow they would march for the Pyke and to bring an end to the Greyjoy Rebellion once and for all. "My Lord, are you well?"

Nodding, Ned turned his back on the unloading ships and towards Jorah Mormont. While of a same height as Ned, Jorah lived up to emblem of his house with his stocky build and thick black hair that over most of his body that was visible.

"Aye, just a lot on my mind is all." Ned replied dismissively as he made to move back to the keep in Lordsport. "See to it that your men are set for the night, but don't allow them to become too comfortable. You and yours are the last of our forces to arrive, and I have no doubt that King Robert will be ordering a march first thing on the morrow."

"Aye, my lord." Jorah Mormont nodded, turning back to the disembarking Northmen. "Alright, lads, get your asses moving! Lord Stark wants camp before nightfall! But don't get too comfortable! We've got some krakens to kill in the morning!"

Marching through the town and back into the keep in Lordsport, Ned made his way into the great hall of the keep just in time to watch as the other Lords of note that'd answered Robert's call make their way in as well. Lord Tywin was the first to arrive, with his brother Kevan close on his heels. The Lord of the Westerlands gave him but a passing nod of acknowledgement before taking a seat at the table that'd been set up near the head where the King would be expected to sit. 'Of course, he would take the seat of note.' Ned thought as he took a seat, leaving room for Stannis to sit next to his brother as protocol dictated he was supposed to. 'He is father to the Queen though, so such a position is his right to take.'

Next to arrive was Stannis, with a familiar face behind him who looked severely uncomfortable with being there. 'Ser Davos Seaworth,' Ned recalled the former smuggler as Stannis took his position next to the king's seat while Ser Davos took a place in along the wall, away from the Lords. 'A good man, despite his past. A valuable asset to have during a naval campaign. Stannis was wise to keep him around.'

Next to walk in was Lord Mace Tyrell, with the true military power of the Reach in Lord Randyll Tarly who was right behind him. The two had not changed much since the last time Ned had seen them, Randyll on the field and Mace ready to accept the Reach's surrender at the end of the Rebellion. Lord Tyrell stopped in the entryway, took one look at the table and frowned heavily before taking a seat down from Kevan Lannister, several places away from the King's seat.

Right behind the two Reach lords was the Lord of Seagard, Lord Jason Mallister. Ned wasn't surprised in the least when he heard that the Lord of Seagard had come personally to deal with the Ironborn. Considering Seagard, along with Lannisport, were two of the first targets in the Greyjoy's initial assault of the mainland. After Lord Mallister, several other lesser Riverland lords made their way in before quickly moving to the side walls. Surprisingly, Lord Mallister was the only true Riverland lord of note to have answered Robert's call. Ned understood that Hoster was getting on in his years, but Edmure should've at least answered the call. He would have to send a raven to his Lady's family after returning to Winterfell to make sure all was well with his wife's family.

Finally, Robert made his appearance along with his Kingsguard Ser Barristan Selmy, Ser Jamie Lannister, and Ser Arys Oakheart, prompting all the Lords in the hall to quickly rise to their feet. "Ah, sit the fuck down," Robert grumbled, making his way past the lords. "Save your bloody feet. We'll be marching in the morning and feeding the kraken's their own asses soon enough."

The jest earned a chuckle from the Lords present, although Ned could tell that many had to force it. Save for Lord Tywin and Lord Tarly, who both remained completely stoic as the King took his seat as Ser Selmy took his place behind him. "Alright," Robert bellowed, waving with his hand. "Let's get this shit on with. Ned, have the last of your men finally arrived?"

"They have, your grace," Ned nodded. "The Mormonts, along with the Glovers, Umbers, and some Karstarks have just finished unloading the last of their men and supplies from the ships and are currently setting camp."

"Good," Robert nodded, his eyes lightening and his manner shifting serious as it always did when matters of war were concerned. Say what one would about Robert as an individual, but in matters of warfare there were few that truly took the matter as seriously as him. "We march in the morning. Tywin. Your fucking men have been here longer than anyone else. What have your scouts told you of the fucking squids?"

"The Greyjoys have pulled their forces back behind the walls of the Pyke," Lord Tywin responded levelly. "It seems that the Greyjoys have decided to put their faith in the walls of the Pyke. And as such we will face little to no opposition on our march."

"Good," Robert nodded as his eyes roamed the table of nobles. "It's to be a siege then. Who here can tell me about the Pyke?"

Ned noticed out of the corner of his eye that Mace was about to rise, but Randyll Tarly beat his liege lord to the matter as he quickly rose to his feet. "The Redwyne fleet managed to scout the Pyke and its immediate lands and have reported back, your grace." Leaning over the table, Lord Tarly pointed at a portion of the walls of the Pyke facing south. "We lost nearly half of our scouts, but they report that the wall here is weak from more of the island falling into the sea. A few days or mayhap a week of bombardment with trebuchets and catapults will create a breach that we will be able to use to gain access to the castle. Once the walls fall, the krakens will have no choice but to surrender to our forces."

The lords around the room started mumbling to themselves, before silencing as Lord Stannis stood up and stared down at the map of the Pyke. "Taking the walls will only be the first step." Stannis shot back, almost glaring at the Reach Lords. Time, it appeared, had not given Lord Stannis the ability to forgive the Reach Lords for the siege of Storm's End during the Rebellion. "The Pyke itself is divided upon the mainland and four islands. We will have to take care with our advance through the walls and the gatehouse portion of the keep. Should they find a way to take out the bridges connecting the mainland to the other islands, it will take weeks to months to get the Greyjoys to surrender."

"Then we hit them hard and fast. Don't give them the option to retreat across the bridges," Lord Mallister growled. "The squids fight like shit on land anyway. It won't be difficult to break their ranks."

"Then that's exactly what we'll do," Robert bellowed, rising to his feet. "Prepare the men, we leave at dawn. In a week, the krakens will be dead, or part of the Seven Kingdoms once more."

"A good strategy, your grace. But unfortunately flawed in more ways than one."

The three Kingsguard drew their swords almost as one as they made to form a ring around Robert, while the rest of the Lords quickly shot to their feet, hands on their hilts and eyes scanning the room. Only Ned remained seated, his eyes traveling upwards towards the rafters. "Master Nox," he groaned, spotting the sorcerer perched upon one of the rafters eating away at an apple. "Did you really feel it necessary to announce yourself thusly?"

"Necessary?" Nox asked, finishing off the last of his apple and letting it drop down onto the table, splattering the core against the wood. "No. But insightful."

"Bloody insightful?" Robert bellowed, his face reddening. "How the fuck do you find this bloody insightful?"