Settlement

38 AC

Castle black

The next day dawned cold and crisp, a thin layer of frost clinging to the black stones of Castle Black. A large contingent of Northern lords, their banners snapping in the biting wind, had gathered near the massive gates of the Wall, their expressions a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. They awaited the arrival of Theon Stark, the young wolf who had dared to venture beyond the ice, and the wildling king he had supposedly swayed.

As the first figures emerged from the vast, white expanse beyond the Wall, a hush fell over the assembled lords. But the silence soon gave way to a chorus of astonished gasps and disbelieving murmurs.

Lord Manderly, his eyes wide as saucers, sputtered, "By the Seven… what in the name of the sea is that?" He pointed a trembling finger at the approaching figures.

Lord Mormont, usually stoic, could only manage a hushed, "The tales… they are true?" His gaze was fixed on the small, lithe figures moving with an unnatural grace amongst the wildlings.

Lord Karstark, his face paling beneath his beard, whispered, "The Children of the Forest… here? Beyond the Wall?"

Lord Umber, his booming voice reduced to a stunned whisper, pointed towards the towering figures lumbering behind the wildling host. "And… giants? True giants? I never thought to see such a thing in my lifetime!"

Lord Mormont stepped forward, his usual stern composure momentarily broken by a wide-eyed wonder. "By the Old Gods," he breathed, his gaze fixed on the approaching figures. "The Children of the Forest… I never believed the stories. And… are those giants? Truly?" Awe and disbelief warred on his weathered face.

As the group drew closer, Theon Stark, flanked by Ragnar Lothbrok, stepped forward. He moved with a confident stride, the white direwolf pup, Frost, visible peeking from beneath his cloak. He reached the assembled Northern lords, his gaze meeting his grandfather's first.

"Grandfather," Theon said, his voice clear and carrying in the crisp air, bowing his head slightly to Lord Torrhen Stark.

"Theon," Lord Torrhen replied, his stern face softening with a hint of relief and a flicker of pride. "You have returned. And you have brought… unexpected company." His gaze flickered towards Ragnar and then to the Children of the Forest and the towering giants.

Theon then turned to his father, Brandon Stark, offering a respectful nod. "Father."

Brandon clapped a hand on Theon's shoulder, his expression a mixture of concern and admiration. "Theon. Your journey was… eventful, it seems." His eyes darted towards the giants with open astonishment.

Turning to his twin, Jonnos, Theon offered a small, wry smile. "Jonnos."

Jonnos met his brother's gaze, a silent understanding passing between them. "Brother. You certainly have a knack for the extraordinary." His eyes, like those of the other lords, kept drifting back to their unusual companions.

Theon then turned to the assembled lords, offering a general nod of greeting. "My lords. I present to you Ragnar Lothbrok, King of… well, of those beyond the Wall who have chosen a different path. And these," he gestured towards Leaf and the other Children of the Forest, "are the allies of our ancestors. And," he finished, turning slightly towards the giants, "these are… the giants."

He then offered a respectful nod to the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Ethan Glover. "Lord Commander."

Lord Commander Glover inclined his head in return, his dark eyes taking in the entire scene with a stoic, yet clearly intrigued, gaze. The air was thick with unspoken questions and a profound sense that the ancient world, long relegated to the realm of myth, had suddenly stepped into the stark reality of the present.

"My lords," Theon continued, gesturing towards the small, graceful figure standing beside him, "may I present Leaf, a leader of the Children of the Forest. They have agreed to join us and lend their ancient wisdom and skills to our cause." A fresh wave of murmurs rippled through the assembled lords, their astonishment deepening at this open alliance with the mythical beings of the woods.

Then, Theon turned towards the towering giant who stood a head above even the tallest wildlings, his massive club resting on the ground beside him. "And this," Theon announced, his voice carrying a note of respect, "is Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg, Magnar of the giants. He and his people have also agreed to stand with the North against the coming darkness." A collective gasp swept through the ranks of the Northern lords. The sight of a true giant, standing as an ally, was beyond anything they had ever conceived. The air crackled with disbelief and a dawning sense of the monumental changes unfolding before their very eyes.

Lord Torrhen Stark, his gaze sweeping over the unprecedented assembly before him – the wildling king, the legendary Children of the Forest, and the towering giant – finally broke the stunned silence. A deep, thoughtful frown creased his brow. "Indeed," he rumbled, his voice carrying the weight of his years and the gravity of the situation. "It seems we have much to discuss. Let us move inside, my lords. The main hall awaits." He gestured towards the imposing gates of Castle Black, his eyes conveying the urgent need for counsel and understanding in the face of these extraordinary developments.

Once within the great hall of Castle Black, the initial awe and astonishment of the Northern lords gave way to a torrent of questions directed at Theon. The hall buzzed with a cacophony of inquiries, each lord eager to understand the impossible alliance that had seemingly materialized before their very eyes.

Lord Manderly, his face still flushed with disbelief, boomed, "Lord Theon! By the gods, Children of the Forest? Giants? What manner of sorcery is this? What happened beyond the Wall?"

Lord Mormont, his usual stoicism replaced by a keen curiosity, pressed, "The tales say the Children vanished centuries ago. How did you find them? What are their intentions?"

Lord Karstark, his voice still tinged with suspicion, demanded, "And the giants? They are creatures of destruction, of chaos! How can we possibly trust them?"

Lord Umber, his massive frame leaning forward intently, asked, "Did they fight you? Did you bend them to your will? How did you convince such beings to follow you?"

Theon, standing amidst the throng of questioning lords, raised his hands slightly, a gesture for calm. "My lords, one moment. I understand your astonishment, your concerns. What I witnessed beyond the Wall was… beyond anything I could have imagined. I will tell you everything."

He then proceeded to recount his journey: the parley with Ragnar, the desperate plight of the wildlings fleeing the encroaching darkness, and the unexpected encounter with Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg and the giants. He spoke of their agreement, their willingness to fight alongside the North against the true enemy. Then, he detailed his search for the oldest heart tree, his encounter with Leaf and the Children of the Forest, their initial distrust, and the ancient pact he had sworn in the name of House Stark to secure their alliance. He explained the shared threat they all faced, a darkness that knew no distinction between human, Child of the Forest, or giant, and the desperate need for unity to stand against it. As Theon spoke, the initial disbelief on the faces of the Northern lords slowly began to give way to a dawning understanding, a grudging acceptance of the extraordinary reality he presented. The weight of his words, coupled with the undeniable presence of the Children and the giants within their very walls, began to chip away at centuries of ingrained prejudice and fear.

As Theon recounted his confrontation with Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg, describing the hunt, the desperate struggle, and the final, decisive leap that brought the giant crashing down, a palpable shift occurred in the great hall. The initial skepticism and apprehension began to recede, replaced by a burgeoning respect and awe. When he finished the tale, the hall erupted.

A thunderous cheer went up from the assembled lords, their voices echoing off the stone walls of Castle Black. Lord Umber's booming laughter shook the very rafters. Lord Manderly clapped his hands with surprising agility, his jovial face beaming. Even the grim Lord Karstark offered a curt nod of approval.

Lord Manderly, wiping a tear of genuine admiration from his eye, bellowed, "Lord Theon! By the kraken's beard, lad, you wrestled a giant to the ground? The songs will sing of this for centuries to come!"

Lord Mormont, a rare smile gracing his usually stern features, declared, his voice ringing with newfound respect, "Theon Stark, you have shown more courage and foresight than many men twice your age. The North has found a true leader in you."

Lord Karstark, his usual grim demeanor softened by a grudging admiration, offered a curt nod. "Aye, Mighty Wolf. You have the blood of the First Men running strong in your veins. To face a giant and prevail… that is a feat worthy of legend.

Even the stoic Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Ethan Glover, offered a rare, almost imperceptible nod of approval. "The Wall has stood for millennia, guarded by brave men. But perhaps… perhaps the strength of a wolf is what we truly needed."

Lord Umber, his booming laughter echoing through the hall once more, clapped Theon heartily on the back, nearly sending him staggering. "Hah! The Mighty Wolf! That's a name that'll send shivers down the spines of every wildling and every shadow in the dark! Well fought, lad, well fought!"

"The Mighty Wolf!"

"The Mighty Wolf!"

"The Mighty Wolf!"

"The Mighty Wolf!"

"The Mighty Wolf!"

"The Mighty Wolf!" they chanted, their voices growing in volume and enthusiasm. The very stones of Castle Black seemed to vibrate with the force of their acclaim. The ancient hall shuddered as hundreds of Northern voices united in their praise for the young Stark who had not only ventured beyond the Wall but had returned with such extraordinary allies, and with a tale of personal courage that had clearly captured their imaginations. The air crackled with a newfound hope and a burgeoning sense of unity. The Mighty Wolf had returned, and the North stood a little taller that day.

As the thunderous cheers for "The Mighty Wolf" finally subsided, a more serious atmosphere settled over the great hall. Lord Torrhen Stark, his gaze now sharp and focused, gestured towards Ragnar Lothbrok, Leaf, and the towering Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg. "Now," he said, his voice resonating with authority, "we have much to discuss. Let us speak of where your people will settle within the North."

Brandon Stark, standing beside his father, offered his counsel. "Father," he began, his gaze thoughtful, "perhaps the free folk should be settled along the Stony Shore. It is a vast and somewhat desolate stretch, away from the lands of Umber and Karhold. There is much bad blood between them who have raided those territories for generations. Distance might foster a more… peaceful coexistence."

Theon then stepped forward, his gaze meeting his grandfather's. "And the giants, Grandfather," he suggested, "might find a purpose near Moat Cailin. Their immense strength would be invaluable in the construction of the canal we have long discussed, and in the much-needed repairs to Moat Cailin itself. It is a strategic location, and their presence there could be a significant boon to the defense of the North."

Turning his attention to Leaf, Theon continued, "As for the Children of the Forest, I believe the godswood at Winterfell would be a fitting place for them to settle. It is a place of ancient power, where the old gods still hold sway. They would be close to the heart of the North, and their wisdom could guide us in the days to come."

A detailed discussion ensued, with the Northern lords offering their opinions and raising concerns, while Torrhen Stark listened intently, weighing each suggestion. Ragnar, Leaf, and even Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg, through Theon's translation, offered their perspectives. Finally, with a tentative agreement reached on the proposed settlements, Lord Torrhen Stark rose.

"Very well," he declared, his voice carrying a note of finality. "The terms are set. Now, let us proceed. The heart tree of Castle Black awaits."

The assembled lords, along with Ragnar, Leaf, Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg, and the key figures of their respective people, made their way towards the ancient heart tree that stood at the heart of Castle Black. There, beneath its watchful gaze, the lords of the North, one by one, knelt before Ragnar Lothbrok, acknowledging him as a protector of the North in the face of the coming darkness and pledging their fealty in this unprecedented alliance. Ragnar, in turn, swore to uphold the laws of the North and to fight alongside them against the encroaching threat. The air was thick with the weight of history, the ancient vows exchanged under the silent witness of the weirwood, binding two disparate peoples together in a common cause.

Beneath the ancient, watchful gaze of the heart tree at the center of Castle Black, a profound and unprecedented ceremony unfolded.

Ragnar Lothbrok then knelt, his weathered knee touching the cold stone. "I, Ragnar of the free folk," he declared, his voice carrying the weight of his people's hopes, "bend the knee to the Starks and the North. We have seen the true enemy, and we will not stand alone against it. We will honor your laws, we will fight alongside you, and we will defend the North as if it were our own."

Leaf, her small form radiating an ancient wisdom, knelt gracefully before the heart tree. Her voice, like the rustling of leaves in an ancient forest, echoed softly. "We, the Children of the Forest, have walked this land since the dawn of time. We have seen the cycles of ice and fire. We know the true enemy. We bend our knee to this ancient pact. We offer our knowledge, our magic, and our unwavering commitment to stand with you against the Long Night. We ask only that you honor the pact made, that you protect our remaining groves and respect the ancient ways." She touched the bark of the heart tree with a delicate hand, her brow lowered in solemn vow.

Finally, Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg, his massive form lowering with surprising reverence, his great knee thudding against the stone, rumbled in the ancient tongue of the giants. Theon translated his words. "Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg and the giants bend the knee to the Starks and the North. We remember the cold. We will fight the cold. We will help build. We will be strong for you." He then placed a massive hand on the heart tree, his bowed head a powerful symbol of the alliance between the ancient races and the men of the North, all united against the encroaching darkness. The vows exchanged beneath the weeping heart tree sealed a fragile but vital pact, a beacon of hope in the face of the coming storm.

Lord Torrhen Stark, his hand resting on the pale, weeping bark, spoke first, his voice resonating with the solemnity of the occasion. "By the old gods," he declared, his gaze sweeping over Ragnar, Leaf, and Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg, "I, Torrhen Stark, Lord of the Winterfell, Warden of the North accept your pledge to stand with us against the coming darkness. I offer you shelter, land within our borders, and our respect. We ask in return for your loyalty, your strength, and your adherence to the laws of our land."

And so it was. Beneath the silent, watchful gaze of the ancient heart tree, a new chapter in the history of the North had been written. The free folk, their long years of wandering and hardship drawing to a close, had pledged their strength and loyalty. The enigmatic Children of the Forest, guardians of ancient magic and forgotten lore, had emerged from the shadows to stand alongside men once more. And the mighty giants, their earth-shaking power now sworn to the defense of the realm, had joined the ranks of the living. Against the gathering darkness that threatened to engulf them all, the North stood united, bolstered by alliances forged in desperation and hope, a formidable force ready to face the coming storm.

A/n: he will have many monikers in the future. I would like if you guys gave some suggestions