(PRP) The Second Son at the Last Hearth

[Nyx Queen of Darkness]

 

[Nyx Queen of Darkness]

Dark wings, dark words. He’d heard that since he was a foal. He tossed the note into the fire at Last Hearth, the bitter cold in his bones would never warm again. His brother, the heir, was dead and his father captured. Though it was more likely that by now, he was also dead. Which left Hearth Umber in the uncertain position of a second son rising to that of a first. He had never wanted this. He’d never wanted Jon to be dead, by treachery no less.

He had never, not even once in his life, wished that he was the heir. He had always made his plans with his brother Jon so that he could lead the household guard, so that he could be his brother’s right hoof. A team.  

[Nyx Queen of Darkness]

The fire ate up the words and cast them into smoke, but in his mind they echoed on. Dead. Dead. Dead. Jon who’d helped teach him the sword. Jon who had comforted when that wildling had fled with his foal in her belly. His father was grieviously injured. A wound they said along with demands. But it mattered not. Small Jon was dead and his father would likely not survive the wound. He would also never forgive him for swearing allegiance or anything at all to those who had taken him prisoner and killed his son.

Hard choices now, that was what it was to be.

His father would want him to let him go and not bargain for his life. He wanted him to act like the heir now, with the best plan for all of his subjects. He would want them to stay loyal to their lord, the King in the North.  

[Nyx Queen of Darkness]

But their Lord, the Young Wolf was missing since the Red Wedding and believed dead. If he wasn't, then no one had any clue where he was or if he was wounded. The male heirs of House Stark were all disappeare or believed dead. The daughters were nowhere to be found. The closest ones with claims to the throne would be the Karstarks or the b*****d Jon Snow.

His great uncles were old stallions, playing at war with green foals and hoary headed stallions. They were buying him the time that he needed to find out if there were any surviving lords. Let the Southrons think that Hearth wasn't in charge, that his great uncles were. It would give him more leave to find out if there were any surviving members of House Stark.  

[Nyx Queen of Darkness]

In the meantime, if there was any hope of his father having a chance to live then his uncle Mors and Hother were giving it. It had taken them a few days to decide the plan all together, to make it seem as if House Umber was divided and without leadership of the actual heir.

While they played at war and bought him time, he would find Jon Snow. If anyone could find Robb, Sansa, Arya, Rickon, or Bran it was Jon. If not, then Jon, b*****d or not might be the best option. But he had another stop to make first, at the seat of House Karstark to see how they stood after Rickard Karstark had lost his head to Robb. He would need to play the stupid brute in order to suss out what houses would be loyal to a new Lord or Lady of the North.

But as it turned out, house Karstarks was coming to him.  

[Nyx Queen of Darkness]

Hearth had been about to call for his most trusted stallion to help him make preparations when that same stallion came into the room. He had not been expecting the news that was delivered, Lady Karstark had arrived and requested guest rite and to speak with him. It was the part about guest rite that had his mind spinning. Evidently, there was some reason she wanted the protection of his house. To eat his food and drink his mead was to say that she was safe under his roof or that at least he would do everything in his power to keep her so. He nodded to the stallion and told him to send her in.  

[Nyx Queen of Darkness]

Panettone Karstark made her way into the room with a casual grace. Her white coat was frosted over in some areas with patches of hoarfrost. She was tired after all the way she had come and she knew that she had not much time. She came forward, the snow falling off her shawl and melting as she approached the mead and bread set out before them. Before she even considered speaking she took a bite of bread and a long pull of mead to quench her dry throat.

"I come to you as an ally. Our houses have worked together in the past and we are all sworn to the same house." She didn't bring up the name. No one knew if there were any Starks alive. She hesitated for a moment before deciding to be honest.

"I have known you since a child Hearth, I do not come here lightly. My cousin has decided that because I am female I am too weak to lead but that my claim as heir is important enough to marry me whether I like it or not. I need help to rally my men, they are loyal to me but I cannot stand against my cousin alone."  

[Nyx Queen of Darkness]

Hearth took a deep breath. It was true they'd know each other since foalhood. He knew the cousin she spoke about--a slimy little worm who was willing to seize power i whatever way he could. "But what lord, what King do you serve now?" There were many options, so many that it boggled the mind.

He drank the mead deeply as he watched her. He had not been prepared to meet her here and discuss the matter. He had expected to go to her and find out more covertly, because now there would be no hiding his allegiance. He knew for sure that he couldn't allow her to be taken advantage of, but if she did not serve the same king he proposed to serve neither could he help her get back her men. He would keep her safe though, but to help her gain back her house only to have it used against him would not do. "What is it that you would have me do, my lady?"  

[Nyx Queen of Darkness]

"I am no traitor like my uncles," Panettone struggled to keep her voice even, "I serve the true king, the only King that cares about our herd, our herd in the north. I have no desire to squabble with Southron lords, I will look towards the Kings of Winter. A Stark or Jon Snow, they are my blood and they have my loyalty. Do they have yours?"  

[Nyx Queen of Darkness]

Hearth couldn't help but smile at the plain and honest look on her face as she spoke her allegiance without apology. With Panettone as leader of House Karstark, they would support a King in the North. Her wishes would align with his own.

"I serve the North my lady, as do you do. If there are any of House Stark left we shall find them." He paused, "I don't have many men, but I will help you get your House back, then we will find our King with both our herds and those we collect along the way." It was more a statement than a question because he knew she would agree. She was loyal, apparently she had gotten all of the loyalty that House Karstark had--the rest of them being slimy little gets or disloyal ones.  

[Nyx Queen of Darkness]

Panettone let out an audible sigh of relief. "So it shall be Hearth. We will rally the North and do what we must." She shook a bit more snow off of her skin as she stood there. It was true that Robb had beheaded her father--and as a stallion she would never forgive Robb that, but as a lord....a King? She understood even though it made her eyes burn with tears of pain and shame.

"How will we do it?" She asked clearing her throat.  

[Nyx Queen of Darkness]

Before he could respond to her question, he saw one of his stallions enter the room with wide fear filled eyes announcing a stranger to see him. Though the discussion at hoof was delicate there was little to be done but to table it while this new visitor was seen to. Lady Karstark hid the sigils on her her furs before he had the stranger brought in.

The stallion was tall, very much so. He had paws not hooves and they were white colored and there was frost and icicles stuck to his fur. But there was a hood covering his face, protecting his visage from being known. Hearth felt himself reach for his weapon to make sure it was there as the stranger walked further into the hall of the Last Hearth.  

[Nyx Queen of Darkness]

She tried to organize her mind and prepare for the preparations of taking back her herd, being the heir even if she was female. But before they could get started with the matter someone had arrived.

Panettone pulled her furs up around her to cover her house sigil before the visitor came in. He came like an icy wind. Snow poured in with him. His paws and fur were white. Not the white of snow, but the white of iced over snow. As though his fur was frozen. There was something dragging beneath him making a strange wooden clack every now and then as he walked forward. It might have been her imagination but it looked like there were a few droplets of blood on the floor where he had walked.

He was tall and the hood came to a strange pointed peak above his head. There was something not quite right about it all, and yet.....

But nothing could have prepared her for what she was about to see or rather who. He was supposed to be dead.