The True North

Well, here it is. Some truth to the strangeness. 

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- 281 AC -

- Winterfell -

(Leman POV)

I embrace Mother tightly, lifting her in the air. She has become so small and tender in my hands. The increase in my strength leaves me to wonder, just how much further I will grow. My senses sharpen, my strength increases, and my height does as well. The only thing that has remained since the beginning is the colour of my hair. It is still blonde. 

I care nothing for this. I know that I'm a son of the North, that much is certain, and all those who think that I am vulnerable in that regard couldn't be more wrong. I find it hilarious, if anything. And if others still believe they could make fun of me, usually get to meet Freki and Geri.

The feeling I have, the one that urges me to leave as soon as possible, has grown stronger for some reason. I have an idea what it is... magic. I have killed several crows in the last few days. They were controlled, and it made me livid. 

"Take care of yourself, my little wolf cub," Mother tells me as she gives me a tender kiss on the cheek. 

"I will, Mother."

"The boy is a man grown, love. He is already taller than most, and barely ten and three," Father says. "Take care of your group up there, Leman. You're a Stark, I know you'll succeed."

I nod and then get on my horse. Geri and Freki are at my side, waiting for us to set off. The two guards of House Stark who will accompany us are ready, as well as the first two members of my Wolf's Pack. I have given Nordumm a horse, since he doesn't have the means to acquire one. The final member arrives right now. She is called Nyssa, a huntress from Bear Island. She travelled here because she knew I would go beyond the Wall, to find them. 

"How is it, Leman? Will you take me with you, or do I have to go on my own?" she asks. 

Nyssa is a remarkably strong woman, even by the North's standards, with extensive experience in hunting and fighting the Ironborn and the Wildlings. We go back quite a few years, when I prevented her from being raped, abducted by the Iron Born and becoming a Salt Wife. 

"Join my Wolf's Pack, Nyssa!" I tell her. 

"No. Why would I join a men's group that will huddle together at night and fondle their balls all night?"

"That's exactly why we need you in the group," I smile wolfishly. 

"Haha, you have spirit, just like I remember. If you were a few years older..."

"Alright, enough with that type of talk. Come along. I'm sure Maege would chase me across Bear Island if she found out I refused. Very well, we're all ready! Move out!"

So we are on our way. A group of five is on our way beyond the Wall to search for Wildlings who made the grave mistake of taking something from the North. Our path takes us through the Wolfswood, where Geri and Freki run wild, hunting for us and themselves. I keep us on track and make sure that we only make rest once. 

Eventually, we reach the rough location of the Last Hearth, the seat of House Umber. A small group awaits us as we ride further north, bearing the banners of House Umber. In front is the man I believe to be the Greatjon. I come to a halt and get down from my horse, standing opposite the large man. 

"Are you Rickard's boy? Your hair would fit," Greatjon says. 

"Aye, what of it?"

"I hear the Wildlings have launched a raid on Bear Island and even dared to take some of ours back?" he grumbles. His voice is deep and strong. 

"Aye, they did. Are you interested in joining us?" I ask. 

"No. This is my son, Smalljon. I want him to gain experience, and from what I've heard about you, you seem like good company. So take him with you."

I look at Smalljon, who is not that small at all. The Umbers are loyal to House Stark, but what I can smell from him interests me much more. He smells strong, boisterous and fierce, all natural for a man of the North and House Umber. He's a simple man, from what I can see. 

"Very well, you can join us. Saddle up, we're leaving now. There is no more time to waste," I say and take off. 

Without saying another word, the Smalljon nods to his father and follows along. This will be interesting, but I can only hope his weight won't hold him back. Not everyone defies logic the way I do. 

.

A day later, we reach Castle Black, where Jeor Mormont is already waiting for us. He approaches me and we embrace one another. 

"You haven't lost any of that strength, old bear."

"HAHAHA, you're one to talk. What has Maege been feeding you? You're stronger than a Mormont at that tender age already. Hard to believe this happened. But they had to wait for you to leave, didn't they? Too afraid, while you were there," Jeor says.

"Aye, sure looks like it. I'm going north, Jeor, whether you like it or not," I tell him. 

"Do you even know where you're going? Who are you looking for? Where could you find them? You don't know the land beyond this wall, Leman. And your two direwolves, or whatever they are, won't help that much either. You have nothing to go on."

"I know Alysane and Lyra's smell. I'll find them. However, I need to hurry, as I know they come from the Frostfangs. It makes the most sense." 

"I'll accompany you. And there's nothing you can do about it," Jeor says. 

I knew he knew I wouldn't listen to him, so he planned to accompany us for a while. I nod my head. He nods as well and starts yelling at the men to prepare. 

"You don't know anything about the lands beyond the wall. But I do, and I'll tell you what you need to know to be prepared. So get ready.

The lands beyond the Wall are wild, untamed, and largely uncharted. The climate grows increasingly harsh and bitter the farther north one travels, culminating in the desolate polar expanse known as the Land of Always Winter.

Immediately north of the Wall lies the Haunted Forest—a vast, shadowy taiga that stretches across the region from the eastern coast to the towering Frostfang Mountains in the west. This dense woodland dominates the landscape all the way to the distant valley of Thenn. Though no proper roads exist in this wilderness, both the Night's Watch and the free folk navigate the terrain using old streambeds, game trails, and narrow paths known as "ranger roads."

The Frostfangs are a formidable mountain range, cold and inhospitable, whose exact northern reach remains unknown. Notable landmarks include the Giant's Stair and the treacherous Skirling Pass. From these mountains flows the Milkwater, the great river of the far north. Hidden deep within the Frostfangs lies the secluded valley of Thenn."

...

Leman's party made their way forward, following the scent Leman knew from the two young girls. The weather has gotten colder, just like Jeor described, and everyone is now walking. Leman is leading the group. But he isn't the only one; Geri and Freki were also doing work and using their senses to try to find something that would tell them where the women were. The first hurdle, if you will, was the Haunted Forest, and Leman knew it was full of people and animals, being able to smell them. 

Suddenly, he holds up his hand and stops the group. Jeor stands next to him, looking in the same direction as he is. 

"What is it?" he asks. 

"We are being followed," Leman says. 

Leman looks over to Geri and Freki and nods his head, giving them a sign to engage furtively. The two run off in a seemingly random direction, getting out of sight and preparing their next move. 

.

.

(Three-eyed raven POV)

He is on his way. He has passed the Wall and is on his way to the Lands of Always Winter. I have been using a lot of energy in the last years and especially in the previous sennight, to set all of this up. Warging and controlling so many animals and creatures is one thing, but to do so with Wildlings, has taken its toll. But it was necessary, it still is. I am close to my goal, but for this to happen, I need him here. Need him far away from the events that are to transpire. 

"This was not wise, Three-eyed raven... not wise," I hear the voice of the Children as I observe the group. 

"It had to be done. He is an abomination, a mistake... he should have never been born," I say. 

"He is strong. And if you lead him further, he will find us... find you."

"He won't. I have made sure I will be taken care of."

"You have tried so many things. Why should this work?" she asks. 

She was right. Ever since he was born, and it was clear that he was different, I have tried to get him eliminated. Being sent to Bear Island was my idea. Rickard Stark would never have made that decision; there is no political advantage to be gained from it. Thankfully, the Wildlings are a superstitious folk. Using ravens, shadowcats and other animals to give them signs was the method that worked. I sent Wildlings to raid Bear Island repeatedly, and he always killed them all. He is a force of nature, and it only grew worse over time. I was aware that I couldn't achieve anything by force. 

So, I went to the only person I thought might have a chance to rein in the storm that was Leman Stark, his father, Rickard Stark. It was the hardest thing I have done, slowly influencing his mind and filling it with suspicions towards his own wife and child. The Northerners are a strange people. I never liked them, so uncivilised. I watched with glee as the Stark Lord grew increasingly paranoid. Only for it all to be destroyed in one blow. 

I stared at the heart of the storm, when Leman confronted his father and destroyed the entire effect and control I had over him. The blast was so strong that I felt it all the way here, suffering a backlash because of it.

"You're bleeding again, Raven," Leaf says. 

"No matter, I need to--"

I suddenly feel the Wildling I am warging into being bitten by the powerful snouts of those two blasted wolves. I try to get them off of me, but can't manage at all, as they push the man to the ground. Being aware while doing this takes enormous effort, but with my experience, anything is possible. I make the Wildling swing his axe around, only for it to hit the arm of the anomaly, all of this is about. 

...

Leman Stark towers above the man and looks at him with rage in his eyes. He grabs the throat of the free man and lifts him higher. I hear his growl as he squeezes. 

"Where are they?"

The sound sends shivers down my spine. I feel the cold sensation of fear. Only someone could ever do that to me - to us. 

"I'm coming for you," Leman says and then breaks the neck of the Wildling.

"Kack..."

I spit blood, feeling the headache. Leaf and the others look at me worriedly. 

"What happened?" she asks. 

"He must die... he has to be away from the coming events at least. The future is in peril otherwise. *Cough Cough*... he would ruin all of it."

"If he is so mighty, he could be the one we have been waiting for. He could help us against the Others. Why are you trying to do this?" Leaf asks me accusingly. 

"You... don't understand... he is an anomaly."

The future of Westeros... of the world... of the Three-eyed raven... is in peril, should he not be dealt with. It was the only way to have the Wildings abduct someone important to Leman. He doesn't care about decorum; he doesn't care about bad imagery or reputation. All he cares about is those close to him. If I hadn't done it this way, he would have stopped the abduction of his sister, Lyanna Stark. 

And if he did that, the future would be in turmoil. He would not only fight in the war, but also destroy the Targaryens. Azor Ahai would stand no chance; they would drown in the waves he leaves in his wake. 

"You have lost your way, Three-eyed raven. Your goals are no longer about living alone... You care about yourself more."

They don't understand. They never will. I am the only one who realises his danger. I am the only one who will bring victory over the dead when they rise. And hey, they will rise very soon. He might be useful in the fight against them... no... no, no, no. My successor is due to arrive, the one who will enable me to continue. The one who will allow me to have what was always meant to be mine... the throne.