Chapter 48: The Young Wolf's War, and Winter's Unseen Shieldmaidens
The execution of Lord Eddard Stark before the Great Sept of Baelor was a spark thrown into a powder keg. The North, a land of grim pride and fierce loyalty, erupted in a howl of outrage. Young Robb Stark, barely a man grown but with the iron will of his ancestors burning in his eyes, called his banners. The lords of the North, from the Umbers and Karstarks of the high mountains to the Manderlys of White Harbor, answered with a furious alacrity. Robb Stark was proclaimed King in the North, a title not heard in Westeros for three centuries, and he led his formidable army south, intent on avenging his father and freeing his captive sisters.
Warden Artos Stark, his public persona that of a Northman in his powerful prime (his true age now exceeding a century), publicly and unequivocally endorsed Robb's kingship and pledged the full support of the Lord Paramount of the North to his vassal King. This was a carefully considered decision by the hidden immortal council. While their ultimate goal remained the Long Night, the blatant murder of Eddard Stark, the titular Lord of Winterfell, and the threat to his children could not be ignored without irrevocably damaging the Starks' public authority and the morale of the North. Their support, however, would be a masterclass in covert influence.
As Robb Stark achieved his stunning early victories in the Riverlands – the Whispering Wood, the Battle of the Camps, the capture of Jaime Lannister – he was unknowingly aided by a hidden, ageless hand. Finnan's network, now led by Finnan's equally capable daughter Fionna, fed crucial intelligence on Lannister troop movements, supply lines, and even the internal politics of Tywin Lannister's war council directly to Robb's commanders, appearing as fortunate battlefield captures or reports from exceptionally astute scouts. Small, discreet shipments of masterfully crafted (though not overtly magical) steel weapons and armor, products of the less-secretive mundane forges that Jon Stark had upgraded generations ago, found their way to Robb's most trusted companions, bolstering their effectiveness. And Warden Artos, through "loyal Northern merchant houses," channeled significant quantities of Stone-transmuted gold to fund Robb's war effort, ensuring his army remained well-paid and supplied, a critical advantage in a protracted conflict.
The immortal Starks also kept a vigilant, if agonizingly distant, watch over Eddard's captive and scattered children. Sansa's plight in King's Landing, a hostage to the cruel whims of King Joffrey and Queen Cersei, was a source of constant pain. Edwyle, with his psychic dragon Umbra, attempted to subtly reach out to her, to project feelings of comfort or warning, but the distance and the oppressive atmosphere of the Red Keep made such efforts perilous and uncertain. They could only observe, and pray for her resilience.
Arya Stark, Eddard's fierce, lost younger daughter, was a greater enigma. The immortal Arya, her ancient namesake, felt a strange kinship with the girl. Using her profound connection to the weirwood network and her ability to commune with animals, the elder Arya subtly nudged friendly beasts – a stray dog here, a watchful raven there – to guide the younger Arya away from immediate dangers during her perilous journey through the war-torn Riverlands. She could not intervene directly without revealing herself, but she wove a subtle thread of protection around her young kinswoman, a whisper of the Old Gods' favor in a world gone mad.
At Winterfell, young Bran Stark, crippled but his mind awakening to the vast, terrifying power of Greensight, became a focus of the immortal Arya's hidden tutelage. Through the ancient Heart Tree in the Godswood, she sent him calming dreams, guided his early visions, helped him to distinguish true Sight from mere nightmares, and subtly planted the seeds of understanding about his future role. She sensed in him a power that could one day rival her own, a Stark destined to see beyond the veil, a vital piece in their Long Night preparations. Rickon, still a babe, was safe within Winterfell's magically reinforced walls, under the care of Maester Luwin and loyal Stark retainers.
Jon Snow, now a sworn brother of the Night's Watch, had ventured beyond the Wall with Lord Commander Jeor Mormont's great ranging. Jon Stark, the Shadow Lord, observed this expedition with intense interest. His Ice Watchers, hidden in their magically shielded outposts, reported on the Watch's movements, their encounters with wildlings, and the growing evidence of wight activity. On several occasions, when small patrols from Mormont's force faced overwhelming odds against undead creatures, a "freak" localized blizzard ( subtly guided by Ben Stark on Nimbus from extreme altitude), or a "providentially timed" avalanche triggered by a Sentinel Stone's resonant pulse, or even a "legendary" shadowcat of immense size (one of Arya's deeply bonded animal companions) intervening, would inexplicably save them. Jon Snow, with his Valyrian steel sword Longclaw and his fierce direwolf Ghost, was often at the heart of these encounters. The elder Jon saw in him a convergence of potent bloodlines and a destiny deeply entwined with the Wall and the true enemy. He ensured his subtle protection, intrigued by the role this Stark-Targaryen scion might yet play.
While Robb Stark warred in the South, a new threat emerged in the North, as predicted. Balon Greyjoy, styling himself King of the Isles and the North, launched his reavers against the "undefended" Northern coasts. Moat Cailin was besieged, Torrhen's Square fell, and even Winterfell itself was threatened. Warden Artos Stark, his public persona one of grim fury, rallied the remaining Northern levies – older men, green boys, and a core of his own highly disciplined household guard. He publicly lamented Robb's absence but vowed to defend the North to the last man.
Secretly, however, the immortal Starks unleashed a more precise and devastating response. The "Winter Wolves," now numbering several hundred elite warriors clad in full Starksteel mail and plate, armed with runically enhanced weapons, moved like ghosts through the Northern forests and along the coasts. Led by Rodrik Stark on his ice-dragon Glacies (whose appearances were always cloaked in blizzards or deep mists, making him seem like a spirit of winter rather than a physical dragon), and his brother Ben on the storm-dragon Nimbus, these hidden Stark forces struck at the Ironborn with terrifying efficiency. They ambushed raiding parties, destroyed longships with focused magical attacks (the "dragon song" used to shatter hulls from afar, or Kratos/Artos creating localized coastal quakes), and defended key Northern strongholds with a resilience that baffled the Ironborn commanders. The reavers found themselves facing not just determined Northmen, but an almost supernatural resistance, their advances blunted, their losses mounting, their reaving ambitions largely thwarted north of the Neck, though the capture of Moat Cailin by Victarion Greyjoy remained a sore point, one Warden Artos publicly vowed to rectify.
Amidst this mortal war, the Starks' eternal preparations continued. Jon's "Winterquell" project, the network of Resonance Dampeners, was now fully operational, its subtle counter-frequency to the "Heart of Winter" a constant pressure against the Others' power. The Wall itself, supercharged and resonant, hummed with ancient magic. Arya and the nature wardens completed the inscription of the "Great Wards" of First Men runic magic across the major geographical and spiritual arteries of the North. Winterfell, Moat Cailin, White Harbor, even the hidden Wyvern's Eyrie, were now protected by layers of primeval magic that made them virtually impregnable to any known force, mundane or mystical, save perhaps the direct, overwhelming power of the Great Other itself.
The immortal council debated their strategy for the War of the Five Kings with meticulous care. Robb's early victories were encouraging, but his position was precarious. Stannis Baratheon had declared his claim, his shadowbinder Melisandre a dangerous, unknown magical factor. Renly Baratheon's vast host was a formidable but untested force, his own ambition a source of division. The Lannisters, though bloodied, were still immensely powerful, their wealth a potent weapon.
"Robb fights with courage and honor, like his father," Torrhen Stark, his true age now well over two centuries, observed. "But courage and honor are often not enough in these southern games."
"His strategic acumen is impressive for one so young," Cregan Sr. conceded. "But he lacks the ruthlessness, the deep cunning, that these wars demand. And his reliance on the Frey alliance is a knife held to his own throat."
Jon Stark listened, his gaze distant. "Our primary goal is to ensure the North emerges from this conflict, however it ends, with its strength intact, its autonomy preserved, and its secrets inviolate. Robb's survival and success are desirable, for he is a Stark, and an independent North under his rule would be a strong buffer. But we cannot, and will not, sacrifice our ultimate purpose for his mortal cause."
He decreed that their covert aid would continue – intelligence, resources, the subtle influence of their nature wardens. But their dragons, their immortal riders, their most potent magic, would remain shielded unless a direct, existential threat to the North itself emerged, or unless an opportunity arose to strike a decisive, deniable blow against a force that threatened their Long Night preparations (such as a rogue sorcerer or a creature of dark magic attempting to exploit the chaos).
Visions and portents continued to trouble them. Noctua, through Arya, showed fleeting glimpses of a Red Wedding, of wolves slaughtered amidst laughter and music. Bran's Greensight, though still untamed, brought fragmented images of ice and fire, of a three-eyed raven, and of a darkness that threatened to swallow the world. Jon himself, in his deepest meditations, felt the "Heart of Winter" stirring with a renewed, subtle malice, as if sensing the growing instability in the mortal realm, an instability that might one day provide the opening it had awaited for millennia.
As Robb Stark, the Young Wolf, continued his brilliant but perilous campaign in the south, his immortal kinsmen watched from the shadows, their power a hidden shield, their wisdom an unseen guide. They were the true guardians of Winter, their war fought not for crowns or glory, but for the survival of life itself against an enemy as ancient and implacable as the stars. The War of the Five Kings was but a fleeting, fiery chapter in their eternal saga. The true Winter was still to come, and for its arrival, they would be ready.