6 Progression within Untold Lies

Alastor Frost POV 291 AC: Castle Whitegaard training grounds

Waking up was never easy even when I knew I didn't have to wake up before the sun came overhead anymore. Getting dressed and ready for the day was even more of a chore, I knew what was coming, my brother was back. I loved him, truly, I did but damn it was hard to like him. He was just so damn perfect, best in our martial practice, best in our studies, best in every damn thing that came up. As I walked under the archway leading to the training grounds, I looked around wondering where the prodigal first son even was. I didn't find him in the course training site or the sparring grounds, not even the obstacle course area that he loved to show off on. As I looked around, I heard some thundering footsteps down the corridor.

In a moment's turn, Kadderon flipped over me and was sprinting down the walkway to the obstacle course and began clearing it in record time. I knew I hadn't seen him in almost a year, a little less really but damn had he grown! I was taller than most of my friends and far wider than them, but brother had me beat by a good almost half foot, maybe more. His hair was short and looked to be barely growing out. His clothing was minimal, even by the standards of a northerner in summertime. Oh, but what had me most stumped was his face, my brother was always hard to understand.

His face was like a statue never changing as he ran; he didn't even look as if he was sweating from his sprinting, and I had been watching him repeat the obstacle course for what seemed like an eternity. As More and more warriors from our house and others came into the training grounds to get their morning workout in before the day started, brother merely began lifting the logs and carrying them over his head before jogging with them up the hill and down it before going again and again. I was watching at first thinking it was typical of him showing off to finally realize something was different and I wasn't sure if I liked it either. 

Kevan Lannister POV 291 AC: Castle Whitegaard training grounds

Sitting down polishing my sword, I watched as the Frost boy dropped the log he was carrying starting to sweat more and more rapidly. It reminded me of a candle burning out, the last bit of wick being used up but my expectation of him succumbing to fatigue vanished. The boy stood in the squire training grounds for the boys aged eight and eight and ten name days. He was on a warpath stating only a few words to the crowd of onlookers.

"Come at me all at once, form teams, plan, do everything you can to win."

I thought it was idiotic to try and spurn many of the future lords and close relatives just to seem superior, but I had guessed wrong, he wasn't acting. What came next was at first just one or two of the young boys and men to challenge him to only be thrown literally out of the arena. The boy's strength was incredible for his size as if he was at least two times bigger than what he actually was. The teams started to form, and I got to watch as one boy brought down every opponent to face him, even men slightly older were getting taken down now. Turning to leave, I was shocked to see Tyrion taking a swig of his flask only to wince at its empty contents. 

"A good show like this deserves a good drink, I say. Shame though It'll have to do without."

Smirking slightly at my nephew, I sat back down next to him to resume watching the spectacle.

"Would it make it better knowing just who you're watching?"

Tyrion kept his eyes forward till waving me off.

"Oh, how could I ever mistake a Frost, that's like mistaking a Targaryen. Though based on size and possible age, I'd bet on the eldest son to Lucarys Frost, Kadderon Frost."

Trying to hide any emotion but the slight turn of Tyrion's lips told otherwise. I straightened myself just as Kadderon had finished his impromptu bouts. Now he was standing there looking at his own hands. Perhaps he was injured? Kadderon simply looked around before locking eyes with me.

I don't know why, but in that few seconds, I couldn't keep his stare. It wasn't threatening or even terrifying, just the pure pressure from it was exhausting honestly. 

"It would seem, he wants to test the deeper waters starting with you dear uncle. Don't lose, otherwise the poor father might hear of it."

Blighted bastard of a nephew knew how to make a man's fist clench. Standing to my impressive height, towering even to some merely made the boy's lip twitch and his brow lock in place before we agreed silently, and the grounds were cleared. I noticed shortly before but the Lord Frost's heir had basically attracted all attention in the training grounds to himself and thus by extension, me. What followed, I will remember to my dying breath.

Third POV 291 AC: Castle Whitegaard Training grounds

Alastor slumped in a seat watching how his brother dismantled every opponent and kept going with naught a worry while even he was sweating bullets just by how angry everyone was getting with his sibling. He was renowned enough on the grounds never beaten by any of the other squires or fledglings, but his brother was a monster compared to him. He watched as every young man and boy fell to his brother, and with every visitor, his brothers back just kept getting bigger and bigger and bigger till his shadow covered him entirely. Watching as a Lannister man walked to the ring and faced his brother had him on the edge of his seat, the man was a head taller than even his brother! 

A short stumpy man sat next to him as his brows furrowed in concentration.

"I see your brother has quite the icy stare to make even my uncle concede to his request. Perhaps you'd like to make a bet on who'd win considering our familial ties to the fighters?"

Circling each other, Kadderon held his battered practice shield and longsword only to drop the shield on the edge of the circle and his longsword jabbed into the ground next to it. Then grabbing a pair of practice daggers from the stand as Kevan Lannister looked bewildered and confused until his face was tinted red from the disgrace shown his way. He thought Kadderon was disrespecting him in front of everyone there by taking what he deemed as inferior weapons, basically giving him a handicap.

Kevan, still mad, simply aligned his sword forward at Kadderon.

"One chance boy! Pick up your shield and sword and fight me like you mean to."

Kadderon simply twirled his daggers feeling the weight before mumbling something about how he didn't like that they were blunted. Seeing the lack of response from his adversary, Kevan forsook any hesitation and stepped forward, shield raised and ready to duel. Kadderon for his part didn't stay idle as he weaved in and out of Kevan's sight from over his shield. As Kevan was beginning to see Kadderon's pattern, he moved towards Kadderon only to see Tyrion and another boy similar to Kadderon speaking before feeling a force slam into his shield. 

The bottom of Kadderon's boot impacted the shield with a thud, making Kevan grit his teeth and skid a few feet before stopping. Kadderon didn't make a move other than constantly shifting his weight and moving his hands in constant motion but tightly compacted. Kevan wasn't sure what had happened but his eyes roamed Kadderon till losing him for just a moment, the smaller figure's speed was shocking everyone there as he hadn't moved that fast before. Another solid kick landed on the shield jarring Kevan's arm into slight tingling before he reacted with a horizontal swing of his sword only for the sparks of metal to blind his sight slightly. 

A second blade emerged from the sparks straight for the helmet opening he had. Dropping into a crouched stance, he swung his shield outward pushing something away, presumably his opponent. Recovering himself, he saw Kadderon in the same stance and position as if nothing happened but now, he was sweating, this was no boy. 

Tywin Lannister POV 291 AC: Castle Whitegaard Training grounds

Walking alongside Lucarys Frost, I was taking in every detail this stronghold had to offer as well as all the information I could hear and see. We made our way to the training grounds to hear the clashing of weapons, typical of a training ground but honestly not as loud as he would think from such a house. Till he came to see why it was only the sudden bursts of clanging metal and thuds. He could see Lucarys Frost smiling as he felt his hands clam up. Seeing one's own brother, a large man by average and trained warrior be on the back foot to what seemed like a young man, possibly a barely coming of age boy was unsettling. Finding out it was the heir Frost, Kadderon who was fighting and winning against his brother sent a wave of unease through my body. Kadderon was relentless, two daggers in hand and yet still on his prey like he was only playing. Like watching a war play out between two individuals. The testing of each other, then skirmishes and then the weakening of the opponents output on fighting ability. This boy was slowly choking the life out of his brother and all he could do was watch and seethe. Did Lucarys bring him here because he knew of this? Did he wish to humiliate him by this act alone? To show him who stood above who? NO, just a simple coincidence as it would play out, but the fact remained. The heir Frost would be a formidable warrior to come. All warriors no matter the skill had one weakness; they weren't as numerous as an army. As he saw the boy parry a thrust of Kevan's sword to then rip his shield away and duck under his guard to wrap his arm under Kevan's jaw and whisper something.

He didn't like that but soon Kevan tapped his arm and Kadderon had let go. He was entranced at the fighting style as it was too fluid and too accurate.

"What style of fighting was just now?"

I couldn't help my own curiosity just to know how the boy had won."

Lucarys only smiled, not even looking at me, only on his boy with crossed arms.

"I have no idea, that was something I haven't even seen. It would seem he's learning new things even in such a short time haha!"

I honestly was perplexed but I couldn't find any lie, so I let it go for the time being. The fact Lucarys was even giving me a tour instead of taking my head was a big accomplishment as I could get right now based off of my last engagement with the giant. 

Kadderon POV 291 AC: Castle Whitegaard common grounds

Walking in a brisk manner, I held myself upright feeling my bones creak and my muscles spasm from the new movements, the new 'habits' I had put it through just this morning. I had to practice more with other weapons as now my most confidant fighting styles were bare handed or with daggers in hand, food for thought later I suppose. My mind was probably what kept me going, for my mind could adapt the fastest to the sudden change of my situation. I had come to realize all through last night. I wasn't Samuel Westergaard like I had originally thought, or perhaps I was in a past life. The other memories came from another life entirely. I just remembered it as two sides of a coin, far more fractured, possibly older, one where I had lived to be a young adult and no more, one where I had memories of seeing something eerily similar to my home but so different. 

After spending hours reorganizing my thoughts, I came to a solution. It was possibly memories or maybe a vision of my world without the influence of my family's storied history. A dark time indeed if what I had seen was true, as the Stark's say, Winter is coming. With all these 'memories' or whatever they were, came a new kind of insight. One in which had me testing it right from the start in the morning. Sure, enough my body felt like fresh air, like this whole time, I was only scratching the surface of what I could do. Just holding my body back from what I should've been able to do all along. 

So of course, I had to test it, I had to see for myself how much I was holding back. The results even now cause me to just want to smile dumbly at almost a man, I was able to overpower a grown man tried and true as a warrior. While he might have not been the strongest opponent I could've faced in Westeros, he was better than the average man and that counted for something. Sitting down too fast, I ate as much food as I normally did with the addition of a leech.

Robb Stark had begun trying to eat more than me and while at first, I had fiercely out done him on pride, now, I had no want to. Simply, I let the poor boy have portions on his own while maintaining my own diet. Not many were having their fast, but I paid it no mind. Today was my name day and soon I'd see them, or so I had thought. Compared to my visions of the 'desolate' and poor North. The region I called home, was a bountiful home to many who survived by the code of honor, grit, and strength.

So, while many houses he caught glimpses of throughout his life in his dreams were often portrayed as rough and poorer people but strong and resolute. Now he got to see how the North really was in his current time. Banners, so many banners lined the boundaries of his vision, hundreds, thousands more. It reminded me of the war gatherings my father would speak of, or how I'd read the texts on the wars fought before Aegon's conquest. Except now, it was all for a tourney and his name day. I'd remember this day for days to come.

The day was a blur of motion reaching the inner halls of the castle. Servants and guards were rushing to and from, all constantly working till a servant caught him and soon he was washed, dressed and out on a balcony overlooking the common grounds filled with not just Northern houses but of the South too. 

"Friends, family, Fellow servants of the crown, welcome to my home! Be filled with cheer and booze, with joy and remembrance as the day my son came into this world. Today we begin the celebrations of a seven-day festival. We will witness battles and duels; we will welcome new warriors and feast till our guts ache! Please enjoy yourselves as my home is your home and you shan't ask for anything. Just remember as you're under House Frost banners, your actions are your own if you dishonor the Frost name."

Seeing my father look down to me and my siblings, he whispered barely loud enough for us to hear just as the crowd erupted in cheers and merrymaking.

"When the cold night washes away the warmth of the fire's light, we will stand ever hale till summer's height."

I had heard those words a thousand times, that saying and a few others that were said around the frost castle from time to time. Thinking on the visions I remember, I could only think if hale is healthy, why not something more in line of defeating or attacking or even defending against the night. Sometimes, thinking about it all just resulted in more questions than it was worth, right now, I had to focus on myself and my new home. 

Third POV 294 AC: Near the New Gift 

Parrying an overhead strike from a longsword, the black simmering sword in hand larger than what one would think possible to wield in one hand glided through the air gracefully till abruptly cutting sideways and decapitating a grizzled and burly man cloaked in furs and hide. The fur cloaked man in partial plated and leather armored man sidestepped and pivoted his foot bringing the momentum of his next horizontal slash across, emptying the guts of three men who had come from behind. Bringing the sword down, the blood flicked off the sword and onto the snow. His silver almost ethereal eyes pierced into the falling snow till he raised his shield and braced himself. A dozen more men charging towards him just as a dozen arrows from behind him were shot and struck down the men and women who had charged. He still waited till a loud roar happened and he laid his sword atop his shield while crouching. A snow bear the size of three rushed out from the covering snow and headed straight for him. 

As the bear rose onto its hind legs before him, he brought the shield up and took the full force of the bear's claws as it battered the metal plated ironwood shield. One, two, three strikes rained down and the man stood tall still. As the bear roared in frustration and anger, the man showed his sword outward straight through the bear's legs before ripping sideways and making the bear fall to its side stumbling. Raising his sword in one fluid motion, the man stepped next to the bear before bringing his arm down, decapitating the bear in one strike. The man looked out again this time hearing something.

A scrawny man, perhaps only just becoming a man, crawled while crying, a burning feeling in his leg stopping him from running as fast as he could now. He had to get away, to warn the tribe, to tell them to not come this way. He had to make it for his family, for his little girl and boy who waited for stories and gifts from the raid. A sharp and cold pain surged up his leg as he hollered outward.

"AAAAGGGGHHHH!!!"

The man looked back, fear and trepidation in his eyes just to see those clear silver eyes staring down on him.

"W-What are you?"

"I am Lord Kadderon Frost, heir to House Frost, Captain of the White Reavers and currently your executioner for pillaging, raiding, and raping villages in the North on orders from Lord Stark of Winterfell."

With a monotone voice, the smaller man could only whimper before his head was rolling.

'Time to go home finally.'

It had been a long three years as Kadderon Frost heir to house Frost had been home. After the festival, he was sent packing again to house Stark, this time, he was more diligent. He tried harder, worked harder, studied with passion and even worked into the political circles of the ever-growing web around the Northern ties and Southern diplomacy when delegations were made. Even participating in a squire's melee when he was two and ten and then three more official tourneys since then. He had to learn of the Southern troubles with King Robert Baratheon, of House Lannister trying to hash out any type of deal till giving up after two years. Probably learning of how we had agreed to a meeting in a year's time to discuss marriage betrothals with house Tyrell and house Martel.

That would've been interesting but as the ward for Lord Stark, I had obligations of being by his side. Something I learned was that while many called Eddard Stark lord, his official title was price of the Northern Kingdoms. A lofty title that basically said that too much landmass and larger powers were in the Northern realms of man to be called just territories. A title that he didn't even care to use most of the time unless absolutely necessary. Most people probably even forgot about it unless in the upper echelons.

While training with Robb and Jon did still occur, most of my training was done by myself or older men and women who would push me to my limits. As after my one and ten name day, my growth surged upward even more than my previous years. 

Now towering over Robb let alone Jon, I had become Captain of Lord Stark's Reavers as we were called due to the wilding population we would reeve upon when they came south to stop further incursions. Robb and I had become almost inseparable when I wasn't out on patrol to the point of learning just how much he had impressed me with tactical acumen. Playing Cyvasse was actually tricky with him at first being child's play to the point of actually having to think and counter his strategies. We had created our own game called war. We would both hold so many pieces and try to take the others as well as points of interest. Many ways could one win in the game such as drawn-out play styles that focused on development and alliances, or one could just blitz his opponent before they had time to recover. Jon had joined in a few times and had been growing to be almost Robb's match at times though he favored a blunt force tactic that left Robb openings in playing his dirtier tricks to win. 

It became so popular with the squires we played with that when they went home, it started to become a new pastime for even lords and others interested in the activities of the game. Lord Stark was especially interested after having to request a custom set that represented Westeros and all the houses. He wanted it built to accurately gauge the rough strength of all the houses. I could tell where it was going immediately and used it just as fast. Though the news I came to receive was shocking, upon reaching Winterfell, I was summoned to go to Highgarden with a retinue of Stark and Frost men. 

I'll admit, I was a loyal man, even in my past lives, I held loyalty for family, for friends, and even for my comrades. Having Lord Stark trust, me so much and becoming so close with his family, talks were already underway to me becoming a possible betrothal for Sansa, though it was just speculation at this point. If my father's plans laid out as I thought he wanted, we would be bound another generation deep with House Stark, Have House Tyrell and the Reach with us through Alastor, Bind House Martell with my sister Lina. My younger sister, I predicted would be reserved for either a Northern house or possibly even House Lannister or House Dayne to further cement Dorn.

I never understood how my father wanted all these alliances, how he could bind the realm in marriages and trust when the realm itself was so fractured that it felt like a breath away from shattering. Robert showed that much when coming to the name day tourney. How he acted showed everyone what kind of king he was, and I can say personally that I had never seen my father so disgruntled by a sight as when the King had grabbed one of the serving girls, vomited on her after bringing her on his lap and then proceed to laugh about it like it was nothing. It was revolting and the looks of many lords told the story of how they felt for the realm.

Since that time, my father had been on a string of diligent planning and organizing trying to hold the peace. So much so that his silver platinum hair was now just white as snow. His eyes had bags and his face was ever in a scowl. While many said he was a jovial and raucous youth, many now called him the scowling crow for he always looked like one with all the black fur and garments he wore. If what I believe to be true in the correspondence of letters to be true, he has even thought of the idea. Saying that he could do wonders for the watch and bring his skills there as a warrior, administrator and as a source of connection to bring House Frost closer with the Watch. I laughed about it years ago but now I could only think. The watch was nothing like his visions, nothing like the desolate wasteland holding men waiting for their deaths. While it wasn't like its height of power, it held every castle along the wall and was manned with at least five hundred men if not more in each castle. The gift and Brandon's gift was managed by two different lords while overseen by House Stark and thus the villages and source of income and trade was ever present to bring forth resources that the watch needed.

In my years with House Stark, I had taken on a side role of instructor partially as I had taken in some orphans and struggling peasant children to train as my new 'Spartans', a force that would hold three hundred men till further inspection but for now only had eighty-five children in its ranks. They mainly just did physical training day and night, in an outpost near southern Winterfell and close to the White Knife River. A few days of the week were spent honing craftsmen experience ranging from blacksmithing to woodworking to carpenter work, shipbuilding, cooking, and so much more. It was decided the group would eventually be fully self-sufficient in times of need, so we made sure we had the tools to succeed. House Frost dedicated a few instructors and arms and armaments were sent to equip the force with basic items. 

Most of my time though was spent on personal development as my growth spurt was key in optimizing my bodily output. I had grown so much that I was now able to stare into lord Stark's eyes on equal ground and my body was no longer just building muscle with a mildly toned physique. Stretching my arms and finishing cleaning my sword, I hollered to move out to the group as we made way on our sleds and Winter Mountain dogs. A breed bred for the harsh snows of the North and just between a regular dog and a horse. While somewhat docile most of the time, they were amazing for pulling sleds and handling a lot of weight at a good, prolonged pace. I could see it over the Ridge, my temporary home, Winterfell.

Once I finished packing and saying my goodbyes, I went to lord Stark's solar with him to speak on our last talks. 

"So, it's finally time for you to leave? It feels like yesterday you came to my home and yet you've been here for three years. I hardly even see you unless it's time for your lessons or when I come to the yard."

I stood looking down at the scroll I had in my hand as I absently spoke.

"Ah yeah, well, I do stay busy and with your other guest's normally within the keep, I like my space lord Stark."

The lord of Winterfell bore a sullen look before smiling slightly.

"Ah yes, Theon Greyjoy..."

Hearing his name, I looked up from my scroll with a disgruntled look.

"Don't look too upset, I know how you helped the boy train and with his studies from time to time., haha."

Rolling my eyes, I put the scroll onto the table before clicking my tongue, a habit I had picked up from all the obnoxious humor the Winterfell boys had.

"I only did so as to not have him sully your name when he returned. How would anyone react if he were to chop off his own pecker while wielding a sword."

Eddard Stark lightly startled and began chuckling before calming himself down as I smirked at our banter. Our talks were always held with light humor as they had grown more numerous through the years, akin to a friendly meeting of individuals.

"Yes, yes, though I do wonder why you have been trying to get his name on the good side of lady Sansa's ear, mhm?"

His humor and laughing manner dismissed as easily as a winter's wind. I fidgeted before sighing.

"While the Greyjoy name holds no real power, the bo… Theon himself ingratiates himself with Robb everyday now and I believe in doing so requires only an opportunity for Robb to give him a hold of his own when he is able. I am simply providing a way to bond the two so no further repercussions occur down the generations due to the hatred my father bore upon the Iron Islands and the Greyjoy name. The last thing we will need is another Bolton in the North especially if he gives him a larger domain and keep."

Eddard Stark honestly seemed to contemplate the notion before rubbing his temple.

"Damn it Kade, why is it every time we speak, you make me think and ponder inquiries relentlessly… Keep doing so for the time being and further then. Robb will need someone like you on his side when the time comes and if Theon progresses well enough, perhaps he will be there too one day."

Crossing my right arm across my chest diagonally to my heart, I bowed my head and closed my eyes.

"Of course, my king..."

Eddard Stark only groaned at that before shooing me away with another scroll, he handed to me.

Eddard Stark POV 294 AC: Winterfell solar

Ugh, why had the foolish boy got the idea of calling me king in the last year, I'll never know. Robert is king and he can stay king, I have no desire to be a king. The North is enough for me, given it is as large as three or four kingdoms, maybe more. I suppose it couldn't be helped when he started asking all the questions about Jon. How he had even suspected anything for his age was harrowing in itself. Then one day he stopped asking and I thought my worries were gone till he called me king, I argued with him for hours afterwards. Then he kept doing it, so we argued many a time more till I finally would just tell him to leave. Luckily, he's never said it while someone else is near and for some reason he's always been able to tell when someone was listening, scarily so. 

Bringing back memories of the first time I witnessed the boy chase down a spy of all things. Apparently, the boy chased him to the kitchens where he dug him out of a little back secret door. I remember the day well as we had the castle searched and expunged of any and all possible traitors or spies. Looking out the window, I could see Jon down in the yard swinging away at the dummy, sighing, I was about to turn when I caught sight of someone. Kade was making his way to Jon who abruptly stopped, I don't know why but I couldn't help but start to sweat.

I wanted to rush down there, but my feet were planted, I had to see this. I darted my eyes around the yard to look for anyone but found no one other than the pair. Kade bowed his head before saying something, dammit! They were too far to hear, only that Jon was shocked and was nervous by his body movements. Kade pointed to the crypts, I don't' know how I knew but he did and as they began to walk towards them, I bolted. I rushed down the steps, why today, why was it going so bad. How had Kade reached there so fast when I was taking so long? For how long did he know!? Fucking Kadderon! I was frustrated and panicked and as I passed by Cat, I could tell she was flustered by my sudden passing, but I couldn't stop. Even as she screamed what had happened, I could only rush out the doors leading to the yard. 

They were gone and my heart raced evermore. I ran, guards beginning to notice, I couldn't stop. I could tell they were scampering to run behind me, my large frame like a boulder rolling to its destination as I made it to the ajar doors of the crypt and my heart sank. A sickening sound wallowed from inside sounding with anguish, regret and denial…

"NOOO!!!"