The great hall of Winterfell had never felt so cold. The presence of the White Walker—still snarling and rattling its chains—froze every word in every man's throat. Lords who had come in loud and confident now stood stiff, their faces pale with horror.
"What in the bloody hell is that thing?" Lord Glover muttered, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.
"By the heart trees, the stories were true," said Lord Cerwyn in a whisper, sweat beading on his brow despite the icy air. "And it walks."
'It does more than walk, you fool.'
"Seven gods protect us," someone said from the back, indicating that this person must be from White Harbor, since that was the only place in the North that preached and worshipped the religion of the Seven.
Another muttered, "How are we to fight death—we're fodder to this thing..."
Men began cursing under their breath, spitting old oaths. The hall was filled with the heavy sounds of fear—nervous breathing, shuffling boots, the clink of armour.
Ned Stark stood before them, grim and steady. He waited until the White Walker was secured back into its crate, though the frost in the air lingered. Then he spoke.
"I assure you that if we have captured it, then there are also ways to defeat this enemy, dead or not," he said. "Not long ago, one such as this killed the men of the Night's Watch. They retrieved the body. It didn't rot, and upon putting it inside the castle for further observation, it turned into one of the undead.
Since it was put under security, it was swiftly taken care of using different ways to extinguish these beasts. Fire was indeed, as the stories say... it burned them. They can be burned, and they sure as hell can be killed."
The lords looked to each other, expressions stiff and silent. However, upon hearing that they could be defeated, a little relief was seen on their faces. It made sense—every child in the North grew up hearing the tales of the First Men, the creation of the Wall, and the army of undead beyond the Wall whom they fought and prevailed against.
If the stories were to be believed, which looked very much the case here, then common steel was useless against this undead. Only fire would send them to the Stranger or the real afterlife.
Ned continued, his voice steady. "It was not the Watch that defeated it. It was a man named Thor. Once again, the North has been in this man's debt."
Suddenly, the entire hall shifted their attention to one man sitting silently.
He looked toward the seat where he sat, silent, arms crossed. "This man not only captured the White alongside saving a member of the Watch from the undead, he also brought the White to the Wall. He was the first to warn us of what lies beyond, or else even today we might not have known what enemy the North would be facing in the near future.
As you all already must be aware of his strength, no doubt, as he not only beat both the Hound and the Mountain in single combat but also saved me when I was imprisoned in King's Landing. It was Thor who helped my daughters escape and brought me home."
And in the corner, Thor just sat without saying anything. He didn't make it feel like he wasn't interested in the meeting; however, he was playing the same game he played in the Riverlands—bring up all the arguments and counterarguments at the very end of the meeting to, if needed, force Ned Stark's hand at not joining the war for the Iron Throne.
He was about to speak up after Ned had given his support to help Stannis, but to his surprise and delight, the Northern lords had him beat.
Even then though, Ned Stark's face remained too neutral for him to ascertain if he had changed his mind. If that was the case, then he was about to bring his own voice to the table to give him a little push.
He had thought of all sorts of ways to force Ned anyway. Not using them felt like a missed opportunity.
However, before he could even bother saying something, the old Lord Commander spoke up. It was only now that Thor even saw the old man was here. Unfortunately, he had met with far too many old men after coming here to bother remembering everyone's faces and names.
However, he had to give it to the old Lord Commander—he had one hell of a surprise planned for Thor and the lords of the North combined.
He had freaking brought the undead with him. Crazy old man, but one Thor wholeheartedly approved of. If earlier was any indication that those stubborn lords of the North would not believe in the undead beyond the Wall even after his and Ned Stark's testimonies, and few would make a leisurely trip to Castle Black to ascertain the truth, then now it was all gone.
Truly, well played, old man.
"We must prepare the North," Ned said, once again bringing the attention to himself. "These creatures are coming. The Wall may not hold forever."
A long pause followed—until Ned's tone shifted, drawing them back to another pressing matter.
"But there is more," he added. "The South bleeds. Stannis Baratheon claims the Iron Throne. He is Robert's trueborn brother. By law, he is the rightful king. And the Lannisters... they are behind Robert's death. Even I don't wish to make the North take part in this war which is not ours, my lords, believe me, but whether we take part in it is not just in our hands."
Ned swiftly pointed out that sooner or later, even if the North doesn't take part in the war, it would be called upon by whoever wins the throne—for its allegiance, or to pay for its allegiance in the time of the crown's need.
Ned at least hoped that it wasn't the latter.
The fear in the room twisted into frustration.
"Southron kings and southern wars!" Lord Umber barked. "Why should we shed Northern blood for Stannis Baratheon? Let them come if they wish, we'll put them back to where they belong."
"Aye," grunted Lord Karstark. "Let the lions and stags kill each other. If they wish to feel the winter of the North then they are most welcome—they sure wouldn't like it, those summer-cunt flower knights... We've got worse things to deal with now."
"The stories were real!" Lord Hornwood shouted. "If what Lord Stark says is true, then more than anything the South should be helping us—not the other way around! Tell those pompous southern lords that this is not just the North's issue.
If we fail, then the eternal winter will come to pillage their summer-filled fields."
Ned felt the tension in his chest loosen. His honor pulled him in two directions. He had sworn oaths. He had duties—as Warden of the North, as Hand of the King, as a man of justice.
However, family came first. Now he had two sons and one brother beyond the Wall while these undead roamed free.
He felt remorse for his old friend, but he couldn't look back on his family. There are times when even honourable men like him have to choose what must be done over what is right.
"And I agree," Ned said, voice firm—leaving everyone in the room silent and Thor stunned and in disbelief. Perhaps he wouldn't get to rant about his issues with Ned Stark's honor after all.
Ned looked over the room. "We must be united," he said quietly.
"Our ancestors once defeated these horrid creatures, and we have the same blood running in our veins.
Let them come. The Wall will hold, and we will too. Just like our ancestors, we'll throw them out of our lands.
As for the South...
On any other day, I might have chosen what has to be done. And I will do the same today. I stand with the North.
Let them do whatever they wish. It is no concern of ours. No matter who comes, the southern lords or the Whites.
It's time to tell them all...
The North remembers..."
xxx
Please Consider Donating Power Stones if you like the Chapter.
"Thank you Very Much for All Your Support"
If you want to read up to 20+ Chapters in advance, check my Patre on
Patreon.com/Kamidemond