The Silent Wolf

Chapter 4

I was like a Weirwood Tree, old as fuck and able to reach depths that not many others could.

In the years I spent at Winterfell after my Mother's death, I made it a habit to file through the memories I had been 'gifted'. It was through this filing that I realized just what my mind had been turned into.

I did not just have the memories that would concern Eddard Stark, I had memories of every person living, no longer living and yet to live that had come in contact with him, anyone of his bloodline or anyone that had ever come in contact with his bloodline. It was the last one that both frightened me and excited me greatly.

Think of it like this, I come in contact with a person, be it physically touching or just talking. Now this person goes on to meet another person, and that one goes on to meet another. I was connected to all of those. The more people this person met, the more people I was connected to. If one were to sum it up, I'd say I was a Weirwood Tree, old as fuck with roots that ran deep and wide, touching the roots of other plants and the husks of other animals on its way. I was basically the physical embodiment of every version of Westeros' past, present and future.

Filing through these memories gave me the courage to make bolder changes to my future as Eddard Stark, especially the memories of Rhaenyra Targaryen of one particular world. In that world, she had averted the Dance of The Dragons by making some bold changes that none of the other versions of her did, not even the one in the world I was thrust into. There was a sense of familiarity in that version of her like she and I are in the same situation somehow.

Outside of all the memory filing, things had been smooth as well. I continued my training with my blade, my growth with it being described as explosive by the Master at Arms.

I was unbeatable with a blade at hand, far surpassing Brandon who started out as my rival. Not that he was a bad swordsman. He was the second-best in Winterfell and also undefeated by anyone but me.

Lyanna was growing up to be just as wild as my memories told me she would be. She had learned to walk by the time she was one, and by three she had begun to talk. And since then she has been begging anyone she could find to let her start her training.

Benjen was a shy thing. A year younger than Lyanna he was a little slower to learn to walk but was faster to pick up the ability to speak his mind. He did not show much in the way of excitement when it came to begging someone to let him join his sister in training, content enough to spend his days watching all three of us train. He was particularly close to Lyanna, who was his constant playmate. Lyanna in turn was clingy with me. But I fear that might have been because I was the best fighter and she wanted to know how I worked so could defeat me. I was, unknown to her, very proud of that fact. Young as she was, she was smart enough to observe her opponent where children her age would have charged in to challenge.

Father had begun Brandon's schooling to one day inherit the Lordship of Winterfell when he turned seven. I was not involved in these lessons because it was one between the Lord and his heir and only between those two. I was being taught by the Maester, teaching me basic reading and writing, and about the other houses and their history. The man was slowly finding fewer things to teach me since I already knew about the Houses, their mottos and their history. So I had the Maester teach me something different, a new language. High Valyrian seemed interesting so the Maester at my requests finally caved in and began teaching me a language he deemed unnecessary for me. But he couldn't hide the glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

Eventually, the day came when I turned eight. I would be sent to foster under an ally of my father's.

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My journey to the Eyrie was largely uneventful, barring the incident with the Mountain Clans in the foothills of the Mountains of the Moon.

I was not sure which clan they came from, but they were good with the damaged weapons they wielded. The Knights of the Vale had dealt with them swiftly, joined by the men that were ordered to escort me to The Eyrie. I wanted to join in on the fight but was not allowed to do so.