Across the countryside of a land covered in rivers and hills, traveled two men atop their loyal destriers. Following them was an enormous wolf with fiery orange eyes.
"Your grace, are you certain we need to return to Winterfell because of some rumor to the east by a few merchants?"
"I believe this rumor is the beginning of a bigger threat to come Brandon. If I'm wrong and I hope I am we can finish our travels to the islands of the West, but should what I think is coming truly on its way, then we must call on every lord and king of Westeros."
Brandon grimaced at Melkor's warning. Melkor had been warning him and the kings of Westeros of a coming danger but would never explain further. "You keep talking of a coming danger, but I won't be able to help nor any of the kings should you not explain who or what this threat is or how you know of this threat in the first place."
As Brandon voiced his anger at his King, he heard a growl behind him. A pair of fiery eyes burned into his soul, Carcharoth the great hound of Melkor had been listening and was not pleased with how Brandon spoke to his master.
"Hold your tongue Mortal. Do not forget you speak plainly with a god, something I do not tolerate but accept for my master allows it. But I will not allow you to speak ill of my master's plans."
The hairs on Brandon's neck stood up with a chill as he froze before the mighty beast before him. Staring into his fiery eyes reminded him of the day he first saw Carcharoth. He had emerged from the gates of Cailin, ripping through countless rows of men, his hide was unblemished at the end of the battle, for no spear nor sword had been able to pierce such a mighty beast.
"Enough Carcharoth, I've known Brandon enough to know he only worries for his family, a few hundred years of knowing someone can mean a little bit of trust, shouldn't it?"
Carcharoth snorted looking away unashamed for his previous insult. "I still do not understand why you mingle with the mortals of these lands."
"Because Brandon is a demigod, more like a weaker Maiar of our old home. That and he reminds me of Mairon."
Carcharoth widened his eyes. He couldn't believe his master would compare a mortal to someone as great as Mairon. "Master."
"Yes, yes, I know he's not exactly similar, but there's a faint light within Brandon that reminds me of him."
Melkor hadn't noticed that Carcharoth had stopped, his head was raised staring off over the hills just ahead of them. "What do you smell Carcharoth?"
Brandon drew his sword, a mighty blade of steel forged by Melkor, a great sword almost as big as Brandon's.
"Men, hundreds, heading straight for us."
Melkor hopped off his horse, and darkness formed around Melkor's hand. It formed a great spiked hammer. It was not the mighty Grond but it would suit its tasks.
Brandon stayed atop his horse, blade drawn and ready to charge down those who got in his way. "That many men can't mean bandits, do you think it's raiders from the islands?"
Melkor shook his head, "We're too far inland, they don't travel by horse but by ship. It's either an ambush from an angry lord that we conquered, or..."
The thunder of hooves resounded through the land. Hundreds of men atop their horses stormed toward where Brandon and Melkor waited. Hawks flew overhead, scouting the lay of the land, and for every ten men, a wolf was running beside one.
Their heraldry flapped in the wind, a Grey Direwolf on a white field.
Brandon sheathed Ice riding forward with Melkor's long strides on foot "What are my men doing down south? I never sent for them."
The formation came to a halt as they approached the Trio, at the head of the party was a scarred man donning the standard Stark household guard uniforms.
He bowed his head to both Melkor and Brandon, before pulling out a misused parchment. "Your grace, your grace, I've been instructed to deliver this to you both."
The scarred man handed the letter to Melkor before looking up to Carcharoth. The enormous beast spooked the horses and struck fear into those who dared look at him.
As Melkor read over the letter his face darkened the more he read, his grip on his hammer tightened, and the winds around him screamed.
He handed over the letter to Brandon, and as he read it, he yelled into the wilderness around them.
Brandon pointed the the party that had traveled far with them, barking orders.
"We ride North immediately. We ride hard and long, and rest little."
Brandon turned to Melkor, "Your grace, travel to Winterfell as fast as possible, should you think it necessary, I implore you to call the Kings of Westeros."
Melkor nodded to Brandon already reeling in the anger that had grown from reading the message.
"Before I go, I must tell you what we may face in the coming days."
Brandon's eyes widened. Melkor had withheld the information of the enemy they were to face in the coming days for years. Should he truly believe that this enemy was on their way that worried one of the most powerful beings he had ever known, Brandon could only pray they were prepared for the coming threat.
"During the battle of Cailin, right before the flood, I met the Old gods. They are the ones who warned me about the coming enemy."
Brandon was shocked, he knew many of the gods of the world, but the old gods were some of the most mysterious gods of them. The sea god and wind goddess had spoken highly of the Old gods, and how they were older than even the drowned god.
"They told me much of their story that I shall not share now, but I shall tell you of the one they had warned me of. He is one of them, they call him the Great Other, he wrought war against them and was banished North, preparing his armies to conquer all that lies south. I fear my borrowed powers are not enough to defeat such a being that took all the Old Gods to defeat."
Brandon's jaw was left agape as what he was just told finally sunk in. There might be a being far more powerful than Melkor, and the North, his home, where his family lived, would be the first of many to be attacked by this Great Other.
Brandon's gaze hardened and looked into Melkor's darkened gaze. "With all haste, return to Winterfell, and call the Kings for war."
Melkor nodded to Brandon and with a great thunderclap clap Melkor and Carcharoth were gone. To the naked eye, most mortals would think he had vanished without a trace, some versed in the deeper arts of magic would think it teleportation, but Brandon knew, Melkor and Carcharoth were running to Winterfell.
.....
Beorn had taken a liking to the time of peace Melkor had brought to his home. He had taken to caring for his horses and keeping a bee farm. It would be surprising to think a near giant would take to such recreations.
But it was what brought Beorn a sense of calm. When he wasn't taking care of his horses or Bees, he would have been enjoying time with Fae, someone he wouldn't be ashamed of saying he cared for.
He was like an uncle to the girl, and her a niece to him.
On this particular day, Fae had been visiting Winterfell and Aina had gone to check up on her. He had a day of peace for himself and hoped none would disturb it as he chopped wood for his hearth.
But as Beorn enjoyed his sense of calm, three massive Thunderclaps resounded through Beorn's home.
Two voices rang out voicing the same thing as the other. "We have a problem!"
Beorn looked over his shoulder to find the happy couple and their mighty beast ready for war.
"Thanks for knocking." Beorn turned back to chopping wood without a care in the world.
The couple that had just appeared before Beorn turned to each other surprised to see each other.
"Aina? What are you doing here, what happened?"
Aina enveloped Melkor into a loving hug. "My love."
Melkor held her tight against his massive frame. "My love, Aina, what happened, where's Fae?"
Aina never let go of her husband but loosened herself enough to look her husband in the eyes. "Fae and Brandon have gone North, near Last Hearth, Symeon is gathering his men to look for them, but I needed Beorn with me to help in the search. The houses of the deep North have all but disappeared, and the party sent to find out why has been missing for more moons than they should. "
Melkor grimaced. "We're going to find them before the ones the Old Gods warned us of find them."
Aina's eyes widened. "You truly believe it's the Others. I thought we had more time."
"I hope I'm wrong, but the facts point it's them. They have already taken much of Essos if the rumors are true."
Aina's demeanor changed. She now was ready for the battles to come. "Then what are we waiting around for, we have a child to find."
Melkor nodded. He looked up and shouted to Beorn. "You coming to Beorn? I won't blame you if you choose not to. You've done enough for this family."
Beorn looked over to the two embracing gods. "You two go on ahead, I'll meet you at Winterfell after you find those brats, I need to get an old friend."
Melkor nodded, and with it was a great thunderclap and the disappearance of the gods and their monstrous wolf.
.....
Fae and Bran rode their horses back the way they came, but the closer they thought they were getting to Winterfell, the more it snowed.
Fae abruptly stopped her horse and pointed over to a clearing. "Bran, wait, something's in the bushes."
Bran hopped off his steed and drew his blade of Bronze.
Aina muffled a laugh as Bran neared it. "It's probably a bunny you idiot, no need for your blade."
Brandon didn't respond though. For some reason the closer he got, the more the feeling in the back of his head grew.
As Bran's nose was practically touching the bush he put down the sword. For some reason, he knew he was in no danger.
Bran moved the shrubbery out of the way and found a big ball of grey fur.
"Well, would you look at that."
"What is it, Bran?" Fae jumped off her horse and approached Bran.
"A Direwolf." Bran held up a Direwolf pup by the scruff to Fae, its fur a deep grey. Its eyes, an autumn orange.
"You gonna keep it?"
Bran nodded. "Him, I'll bring him back to Winterfell"
"What are you gonna call him?"
"Stieg. My father talks of the man who trained him as a boy, I'll name him after the man who trained one of the most skilled swordsmen of the realm."
Fae shrugged and hopped back onto her horse. "Whatever, Carcharoth is still cooler. But if it keeps snowing like this we won't ever be able to get back to Winterfell.'
As Fae was turning to head in the direction they were heading, the now-named Stieg started yapping in the other direction.
"What's got him spooked?"
Brandon turned to where Stieg was barking and stared into eight giant eyes.
"The fuck is that."
Fae turned to where Bran was looking and watched a giant spider crawl toward them, hungry, and in sight of a meal.
Fae groaned in annoyance, barely fazed by the giant creature. Not worried about the beast but more about how to return home. "I'm getting real tired of these surprises."
She drew a blade of beautiful polished steel. Runes were carved across the blade, and as she grasped the hilt, the blade ignited into a fiery spectacle.
"I'm so kicking your ass later for leading us out here Bran."