1 Prologue

The man who passes the sentence, should swing the sword.

Those words echoed through the boy's mind as he watched his father from afar take the head of a deserter from the night's watch, the man's clothes were ragged and greasy, and both his ears and a single finger were lost from frostbite.

Torrhen was ten when we had first learned that crucial lesson, he still remembered it till this day, three years on. It was a wildling with a great brown bushy beard, with only one eye, and burns covering half his face. The man was mumbling to himself about the white walkers just as the deserter did now.

His father pulled him aside and told him that if he was to take a man's life, you owe it to him to look him in the eyes and hear his final words, and if you could not bear to do that, then perhaps he did not deserve to die.

And now it would be Torrhen's younger brother's turn to learn that lesson. He was surprised to learn that Bran would be venturing with them to see the beheading, he was only seven years old, and their father had never taken any of them out that young.

Eddard pulled their family's greatsword from its sheath that was being held by Theon Greyjoy, his ward. The sword was Valyrian Steel, and was as wide across as a grown man's hand, and stood even taller than Torrhen.

"In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, by the word of Eddard of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, I do sentence you to die."

Torrhen's father raised his sword up into the air, and with one fell stroke, blood sprayed across the snow, and the head bounced off a thickened root and rolled up to Theon Greyjoy's feet, the man had been older than all of them, at the age of nineteen, and had a dark sense of humour, kicking the head away while chuckling.

"You did well, Bran. Father will be proud." He told his younger brother, Bran, patting him on the back for not looking away as the man was executed.

"What did you think?" his bastard brother Jon walked up to him "Do you believe that he saw the white walkers?"

Torrhen grabbed the gloves from the pouch on his horse, and pulled them on. Glancing over at Jon and shrugging his shoulders, soon pulling himself up onto his horse.

"I don't know, brother." he answered honestly, making himself comfortable atop the saddle "This isn't the first deserter that spoke about the white walkers, even the wildlings speak of them. When enough people in their final moments say the same thing, it does make you wonder if they are speaking the truth."

"What're you talking about?" his elder brother, Robb asked as he walked up to them. He was big and broader than both Jon and Torrhen, and shared his mother's features, the fair skin and red-brown hair, with the bright blue eyes.

"Only the monster in old nan's stories." Torrhen chuckled, looking back to Jon "If they are real, the wall stands between us, and if we're to believe every tale about them, then they can't pass it."

It was colder on the long ride back to Winterfell, though the wind died by then and the sun was higher in the sky. Torrhen rode alongside his father, and Ser Rodrik Cassel, Master-at-arms of Winterfell.

"Something on your mind, Torrhen?" His father asked him as they trailed the road, Torrhen's eyes fell on Robb and Jon for a moment as their horses galloped past them.

"That man spoke of the White walkers, just as the others did." Torrhen replied "Why would he lie? You would have chopped his head off regardless of what he said, right?"

"Aye, you have the right of it." Torrhen's father answered "He believed it, but the madman sees what he sees, and I can't trust the word of a deserter or a wildling."

"But surely he wouldn't have deserted had he not been running from something?" Torrhen asked, though to no response from his father.

Before he could press him, Jon appeared on the crest of the hill before them, waving and shouting down at them "Father, Torrhen, come quickly, see what Robb has found!" and just like that, he was gone again.

Torrhen smacked his heel against that of his horse, and galloped ahead of the party towards Jon, and found them on the riverbank north of the bridge, with Jon still mounted while Robb stood knee-deep in white, cradling something in his arm.

"What is it?" he said as he brought his horse to a stop, and dismounted in the thick snow, which had been heavier than usual this moon turn.

"Come look." Robb said quietly, revealing what looked like a wolf, its furs were grey, though what Torrhen saw next took him by surprise, a great large wolf, unlike anything they had ever seen, lying dead with five more pups surrounding it.

"Are those wolves?" he whispered, trying to hide his excitement as he picked up one of his own, another grey pup with patches of white, cradling it as if it was a baby, as he once did with Rickon when he was first born.

"Gods!" Theon exclaimed, as he and Jory were the first to reach them, with Bran and their father following soon after them.

"Robb, Torrhen, get away from it!" Jory's sword was drawn.

"She can't hurt you." Robb grinned, looking up from the bundle in his arms for the first time "She is dead, and has left us a gift."

"What in the seven hells is it?" Torrhen heard Theon say, despite him spending many years in the north, the fool knew nothing of its history, he was a squid throughout.

"A direwolf." Jon told him.

"More like a freak, just look at the thing." Greyjoy said "the size of it is abnormal."

The direwolf pups mother had been half-buried in bloodstained snow, Ice having formed in its shaggy grey fur, its blind eyes were crawling with maggots, and Torrhen looked directly at its wide mouth filled of yellow teeth, it was twice the size of any hound found in his father's kennels.

"Jon is right, that there is a Direwolf, it is said they grow larger than normal wolves." Torrhen added, gesturing towards the mother.

"You are both mad." Theon said "Direwolves have not been sighted south of the wall in two hundred years at least."

"Well I clearly see one now, squid." Torrhen replied.

"Come, Bran." Robb said, as their younger brother seemed amazed by the creatures, though appeared scared to step closer towards them "You can touch him." he added, kneeling down to his level to allow more access.

Torrhen's head lowered down and looked to the pup in his arms, smiling as he stroke his hand along its cold fur, he soon lifted his head to see Jon pick a pup up in his own arms, and walk over to bran "Here you go, Bran, there are six of them."

"This ain't right, m'lord, Direwolves now loose in the realm, after so many years." their master of horse, Hullen muttered.

"Perhaps it is a sign, Lord." Jory said.

"This is only a dead animal, Jory." their father frowned, yet by his voice, he seemed deeply troubled by what he had seen. "Do we know what killed her?" he continued, snow crunching under his boots and he moved around the carcass.

"Looks like something's in its throat, father." Robb told him.

Their father had then knelt down and groped under the beast's head with his hand, yanking out what appeared to have been a foot of shattered antler, tines snapped off, all wet with blood.

A silence swept over the party, each of them looking to the antler uneasily, and no one dared to speak until their father had.

"I am quite surprised it has lived long enough to whelp." he said, his voice breaking the spell of silence across the party.

"It could be that she didn't, father." Torrhen said "Old Nan has told us tales… maybe the mother was already dead when they came."

"Born with the dead." Jory put in "Worse luck."

"It does not matter." Hullen said "They'll all be dead soon without their mother."

"The sooner the better, I say." Theon agreed, drawing his blade "Give the beast here, Bran."

"No!" Bran cried, and Torrhen was soon to put himself between the squid and his brother.

"Stay your hand, squid, or I will remove it." Torrhen defended the pups and his younger brother, standing strong against Theon before he soon put away his blade.

"We will be keeping these pups." Robb commanded, for a moment he sounded like the lord he was one day destined to be.

"You cannot do that, boy." Harwin said, who was the son of their master of horse, Hullen.

"It'd be a mercy to kill them, young lord." Hullen agreed.

Their father looked saddened, as they each looked to him, receiving only a frown, and a furrowed brow in response.

"Hullen speaks true, son, better a swift death than a hard one of cold and starvation."

"No!" Bran cried again, Torrhen placed the pup into Jon's hands as he knelt down to their younger brother and wiped away the tears in his eyes.

"Calm now, Bran, we won't be killing them."

"Ser Rodrik's red bitch whelped again last week." Robb stubbornly resisted "It was a small litter, only two live pups, she'll have enough milk to go around."

"She'll rip them apart when they try to nurse."

"Lord Stark." Jon said, it was rare to see him ever call him 'father', whether that be in public or just amongst the family, though he had always been very formal. "There are six pups." he told father "Four males, two females."

"What of it, Jon?"

"You have six trueborn children." Jon said "Four sons, two daughters, the direwolf is the sigil of your house, they were meant to have them."

"And you want no pup for yourself, Jon?" their father asked, as each of the men glanced at each other, the count had only come right because Jon removed himself, including the girls and little Rickon, but not himself, A bastard born with the name 'Snow'

"The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark, my lord." Jon points out "I am not a Stark."

"I will nurse him myself, father." Robb was quick to add "I will soak a towel with warm milk, and give him suck from that."

"Me too!" Bran echoed.

Torrhen got back up onto his feet, wiping away the snow on trousers and taking back his pup from Jon, smiling warmly at his brother as he did.

"That much is easy to say, but harder to do, sons." the lord weighed his sons long and carefully with his eyes "I will not have you wasting the servants time with this. If you want these pups, you must each feed them yourselves, do you understand?"

"Yes, father." Torrhen responded, while the others agreed with a nod of their heads.

"You must train them as well." their father added to the conditions "You must train them, the kennel master will have nothing to do with these monsters, I promise you that."

Torrhen directed his head down towards the pup, kissing it on the cheek, which was responded with a lick on his face, the pup had a warm tongue, making Torrhen giggle.

"And the gods help you if you neglect them, or brutalise them, or train them badly. These are not pets that will beg for treats and slink off at a kick, A direwolf will be quick to rip a man's arm off his shoulder as easily as a dog will kill a rat. Are you certain that you all want this?"

"Yes, father." Bran said.

"Yes." Both Robb and Torrhen agreed.

"It may be that the pups die anyway, despite everything you attempt."

"They won't die, father." Torrhen was quick to add.

"We won't let them die." Robb followed.

"Then you shall keep them" their father decreed "Jory, Desmond, gather up the other pups, it's time we were back to Winterfell."

Torrhen got back atop his horse, and allowed the pup to snuggle within the furs of his coat to keep him warm, for the entire journey, his mind would be on a single thought, what to name him.

Halfway across the bridge, Jon stopped in his tracks, looking around as if he had lost something.

"Jon, what is it?" Torrhen asked.

"Jon?" their father soon asked, "We must be heading back."

"Do you all not hear it?"

Torrhen looked over at Robb and they both shared a shrug.

"There!" Jon said, swinging his horse around and galloping back across the bridge, all of them watched on as he dismounted where the direwolf lay dead, and he kneeled, soon riding back to them smiling with what appeared to be another pup in his arms.

"He must have crawled away from the others."

"You have one of your own now, brother." Torrhen grinned.

"It is an albino." Theon Greyjoy said "It will die even faster than the other freaks."

"Watch your tongue, I won't warn you again, squid." Torrhen stared at him with deep hatred.

Jon gives his father's ward a chilling look "This one now belongs to me. It will not die."

Torrhen traversed the kitchens with two pups bundled up into his fur coat, one of him, and the other for his youngest brother, Rickon.

"And I can name her?" Arya was excited from when they first arrived with pups, and had followed Robb from the moment they stepped through the gates, it wasn't until he laid the pup down on one of the kitchen tables that Arya had a chance to touch them.

"Yes, you can name her." Robb replied, brushing his hand through the pups' fur "But be careful, this one was nibbling at me the entire way back, she is a wild one like you."

His brother's comment made Torrhen smirk as he moved to lay out his coat on the ground in the corner, dropping the two pups on it.

One of the pups had blackened fur, which distinguished it from the others, and bright green eyes, he knew immediately this would be the one for Rickon. When the boy followed them into the kitchens, he looked hesitant to even go near them, though Torrhen gestured him over.

"Come on, Rickon.. He won't bite, I promise."

His younger brother slowly knelt down beside him, and Torrhen ran his hand through Rickon's hair, smiling at him. The boy's hand was planted atop the pup's head, and it wasn't long until he was rolling about on the cold floor, playing with the direwolf.

"Shaggydog." Rickon giggled, already picking out a name for him.

"I suppose we can't expect a better name from him." Torrhen looked up at Robb, chuckling away.

"Aye, that we can't." Robb smirked.

"What should I name you?" he wondered, as he looked back down towards the pup of his own, its piercing blue eyes stared back at him, and he wondered if they were so bright they could be seen a mile away.

Many moons turned, and the pups grew attached to each of the Stark children, and it wasn't long until they stood taller than their hounds, Torrhen snuck his pup and Rickon's from the kennel each night to sleep in his room, hating the howls that would keep him up if he did not.

'Magnar' was the name he had decided for him. Torrhen was only familiar with what Maester Luwin taught them about the old tongue, but from what he read of the histories and the Wildlings, it stood for the common-word 'Lord'

He saw it fitting as it would be the title that would never belong to himself unless either his father or elder brother saw fit to give him his own castle, such as Moat Cailin or Sea Dragon's Point, but one was a ruin and the other was land that everyone said was worthless, and the name was ironic.

The pup would also frequently sneak out of Torrhen's bed during the middle of the night, and it must have taken hours for him to finally find him and bring him back, even waking up both Robb and Jon to assist him, he was considering to name the pup 'Shadow' for a short while because he was so good at hiding, though his blue eyes were what always caught him eventually.

Robb gave his pup the name of 'Grey Wind', the beast had a thick fur of smoking grey, and yellow eyes, he gave the name due to his fast speed when running, he could beat the entirety of his litter mates due to his lean build when they'd race.

Arya was set on naming her pup Visenya, the sister-wife to Aegon the conqueror and Rider of Vhagar, one of her many heroes, but she soon decided up the name 'Nymeria' who led her Rhoynar across the sea in ten thousand ships and made their home in Dorne, possibly because of the wolf's fierceness and exuberant nature.

Lady was Sansa's pup, and the most delicate of the litter, she had grey fur with golden yellow eyes, and was the smallest of them, Sansa often fed her beneath the table whenever they would all gather in the great hall.

Jon's direwolf pup had frightened Torrhen at least once a day, appearing out of nowhere, moving as silent as a mouse, if not quieter, and had gained the fitting name of 'Ghost' for its fur colour and the fact that he never makes a sound.

The only direwolf to go unnamed was Bran's, who struggled to find a good one for him, Torrhen attempted to help him in this feat, but every name he recommended, Bran would tell him that it was not good enough for a direwolf.

"I wonder what he is like?" Sansa was ecstatic when word reached them that the King would be travelling Winterfell along with the rest of the royal family, she had been obsessed with the Crown Prince, Joffrey, already calling him her knight in golden armour before he had even arrived, Torrhen found it ridiculous, he had no love for the southerners, not that he ever met one except his mother and the septa.

"A brat that can't wield a sword most likely..." Torrhen muttered, sitting besides Rickon as they all ate at the table in the great hall, the comment earning him all too familiar glare from Sansa who sat directly opposite, discreetly kicking him under the table "What was that for?" he exclaimed, kicking her back.

"That's enough, Torrhen." their mother, Catelyn Stark and Lady of Winterfell, was swift to put an end to the bickering "I will have you cleaning the kennels for Farlen should it happen again."

"But…" he looked between Sansa and his mother, though received a small grin from his sister that annoyed him, causing him to sigh and shake his head.

"Listen to your mother, lad." his father intervened "I want you training in the courtyard with Ser Rodrik. I would hate to have to tell him that you will be accompanying Farlen instead."

"Yes, Father." Torrhen said, glaring at Robb as he noticed him trying hard not to laugh "Can I speak with Vayon afterwards?"

Torrhen had been learning with Vayon Poole, his father's steward, on how to manage the day-to-day affairs of the castle, which he didn't expect to enjoy so much at first.

"You shouldn't worry yourself with matters left to a steward." Robb scoffed, before his father could answer.

"We need to know these things as a great house of the North, brother." he bit back at him "Maybe you'd understand if you ever paid attention when Luwin was speaking."

"A man with a sword is a lot more useful than one with a book, brother." Robb responded "You should know that considering how many times I have beaten you in training, I bet Fat Tom is swifter than you." Torrhen had a quick temper, and he was soon to lunge at his older brother.

"Enough both of you!" Lord Stark yelled, it was not often that he broke his silent nature, so the two boys immediately stopped in his presence "Go to Ser Rodrik now, I won't have you be fools while everyone eats, if you are going to fight, you may as well do it while training."

"Ugh…fine." Torrhen grunted, tapping his leg "Come on, Magnar." he said, with a click of his tongue, and the direwolf appeared from underneath the long table, jumping up and grabbing the piece of bacon left on Torrhen's plate before ushering to his side.

Torrhen shoved Robb as they left the Great Hall, he always seemed to butt heads with his elder brother especially, a part of him was slighted that it would be his elder brother that was to gain Winterfell, and not himself, he had so many ideas for the castle and the North entirely but was always ignored due to his age.

Winterfell was a huge, spanning several acres of land and encircled by two massive granite walls, it had everything that a castle needed, a stables, a great hall, library, there was a turret where Maester Luwin could be found near to the kitchens, it even had its own inn near to the guest houses and guard barracks.

They made it to the courtyard and Ser Rodrik was already preparing the area for when the training was to commence, Torrhen spotted Jon and Theon assisting him, so he moved over to where his bastard brother was.

"How's Ghost?" he asked, looking at the large white furred animal lying down on the ground "Is he done with scaring poor Rickon?"

"Scaring you more like." he said, giving him a half smile, they had always been close, each of them shared the same face, same with Arya, unlike the rest of their siblings who took after the looks of Torrhen's mother "why do you look flustered, another argument with Robb?" he observed.

"No one ever listens, Robb doesn't seem to take his position as Heir seriously, at least not as he should." Torrhen let out his frustration "And yet here I am, learning more about northern affairs, listening in all of Maester Luwin's lessons, speaking with Vayon Poole, getting to know our servants, I know more than father knew when he was in my position and uncle Brandon was to be Lord."

"He still has plenty of time to learn." Jon reassured him "Father isn't going anywhere."

"I bet that's what they said when our grandfather and uncle were still alive." Torrhen replied "the King wouldn't come North with an entire royal procession just to say hello. Jon Arryn is dead, and the King is seeking a new hand of the king, who better than father, his closest confidant."

"Over here lads." Ser Rodrik shouted.

"We can talk later." Jon nodded to him, before the boys walked over towards Ser Rodrik.

"Theon, you are being paired with Jon today." he commanded, and Torrhen could see the look on Jon's face, one of boredom at facing the squid he has beaten many times before "Robb, you and Torrhen will be pairing up, try not to kill each other." Torrhen grunted as he went over to grab a wooden sword and shield.

"I don't understand your issue, brother, if you just tell me then we can solve it, you know I hate to see you agitated." Robb explained, as they each took their spots a few feet away from each other.

"First one to three points wins." Rodrik explained "The two who lose will enjoy cleaning out the stables." the man chuckled, along with a few of the household guards.

"It is not something you would understand, Robb." he said, before lunging at his elder brother, who was swift to parry the attack, replying with one his own and smacking the sword against the wooden shield, chipping the upper right edge of it away.

"Allow me to try, atleast."

Torrhen shook his head, remaining silent and in his thoughts, their swords clashed, and Robb managed to get a hit on his shoulder, gaining a point, though it wasn't hard enough to do any damage, maybe a bruise.

"Raise your shield up, Torrhen!" Ser Rodrik's voice boomed across the yard, and Torrhen side-eyed him, watching as he tugged at his white whiskers impulsively, not being able to take his hands of the ridiculous things.

"Is it Theon?" Robb questioned, circling Torrhen "If he has said something to you, I can speak with him, and tell him not to do it again."

"I am more than capable of defending myself from the squid." he muttered under his breath, shaking his head again "No, it has nothing to do with him." The direwolves were looking on as their masters fought, with Torrhen giving a quick glance to Magnar before lunging at Robb and managing to hit him at his waist "A point to me, we are even."

Torrhen had a knack for blocking out the sound around him, the castle was a loud place, it was why he enjoyed the peaceful nature of the forest, each hit of the blade became numb, every hammer to the anvil became muffled, and all he saw was his target, his own brother, he went out on a flurry, attacking until his bones ached, it was only then that he managed to get another point against Robb, planting him on his arse.

"Two points." Torrhen smirked, it had been the first time he was ever ahead of Robb when training, and there was only a few times he had managed to even get two points against him.

"You are getting better." Robb appeared happy for him, even despite the tension that was currently between them "Though, you'll understand I cannot allow you to beat me." he chuckled.

"Well I would hate to hurt that pride of yours, brother." Torrhen added, but Robb would be right, he was the much better swordsman out of the two, and before Torrhen had time respond, Robb's blade slipped under his and jabbed at the boy's wrist, causing his grip to ease and the sword to drop down onto the dirt.

Torrhen sighed "two-on-two." Robb said, flourishing his blade around as he was already prepared to claim victory, after taking a deep breath, Torrhen sliced towards Robb's leg, although his brother was swift, and slithered around him in a breeze, placing the tourney sword at the back of his neck, tapping it gently "three-on-two, better luck next time."

"Jon will have to defeat you next time for me." Torrhen faked a smile, gazing over at Rodrik who seemed rather too busy talking with the guards, Torrhen walked over to the rack and hung up the sword.

"Truce, then?" Robb asked, extending out his arm.

"Sorry." Torrhen apologised, admitting his faults "I am just worried is all, especially with the chance that father is going south." he gripped tight onto his brother's wrist and they shook their arms.

"Maybe I should be focusing more on Maester Luwin's lessons…but I have you for that, father always says we need to look out for one another, right?" Robb explained "What Lord would I be if I didn't have you by my side?"

"You have Jon." Torrhen shrugged "And Theon.." he said, with a bite in his voice.

"From the way Jon talks, he'll be off to take the black as soon as he can, you know how mother can be with him." he said "And while Theon may be a friend, he is not kin." he patted Torrhen on the shoulder "He is not you.."