The Birth of Dragons

Lord Eddard Stark

A great many things had happened over the past few months, let alone the past few years. His leg was slowly healing, but the rate at which it healed was not good enough for him. He yearned to return home, to see his wife and children again. He had sent them letters, but nothing had come back. He had heard word of fighting in the West, and nothing else. He was worried, and he knew that the King was worried as well. Ned had been sent to meet with a band of sellswords because of where they all came from, and he was nervous. He had heard tales of the Company of Rose, since he was old enough to understand what tales were. They were a band of independent soldiers who had left Westeros when the last King in the North had bent his knee, but had soon wanted to return home, they had not been allowed to, and now Ned was counting on their desire still being there, for he too was tired and wanted to return home.

He did not know exactly where they were in Essos, but this was most definitely a war camp, he had seen enough of them in his time to know them when he saw them. A muscular man with brown hair stood before him, staring at him with suspicious eyes. "You are Lord Stark?" the man asks.

"I am." Ned responds simply.

"Who is this other man?" the big fellow asks.

"He is a friend, and ally." Ned responds.

"Very well, come with me." The man says, turning and walking away toward a tent, which has a black direwolf and a sun as well as a white rose on its banner. "Lord Stark, Commander." The man says.

As Ned looks at the figure standing before him, he sees hints of himself in the man's long face, and he sees something of his father in the tiredness of his eyes, but also Brandon's defiance. The man nods at him and says. "I am Errold Snow. Descendant of Brandon Snow. Commander of the Company of the Rose. I would know why you have come here."

"I have come to make you an offer." Ned responds. "I have come to give you a chance to come home."

"Home?" the man before him asks sounding surprised. "I am home. Ever since I was old enough to remember, a command tent has been my home. Why would I want to leave?"

Ned can feel Connington's impatience growing, and so he says. "Because I know you have been struggling. I grew up hearing about how you wanted to come home, but never did. I want to know why."

Errold Snow snorts. "Why? Because your father, and his father before him were too damned proud to accept we were offering an apology. My mother died giving birth to me in a tent, because we were not allowed to come home. We have offered our services time and again, but we have not been accepted. Why then should I believe your word?"

Ned feels as if he is at a loss for words, and so is grateful, albeit reluctantly, when Connington speaks. "You have the word of the King."

"Which King?" Snow asks. "Last I heard there were four Kings competing for the throne in the south."

"The only King that matters, the rightful King, son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell, King Aegon Targaryen." Connington replies.

Snow looks unimpressed. "And what will this King give me and mine, to tempt us away from here?"

"Your land back." Ned states. "There are houses in the north which have since taken your land and wealth, but they have turned traitor. You will get your land and title back, and a place at court, be it at Winterfell or in King's Landing."

"And will we be treated as fair and true citizens of the throne? Not as the half dogs your father would have us be?" Snow asks.

Ned bristles slightly at that, but nods. "Yes, your rights will be recognised."

Errold Snow seems to be contemplating this with the right amount of promise and seriousness. He knows that this has been something the Company of the Rose has desired for a long time, and that Snow himself wrote to Ned's father a long time ago. Eventually, Snow speaks and asks. "If I do accept this offer, what would you wish for my men and I to do?"

"Fight alongside me and the rest of the north, against our foes. Against the King's foes." Ned says.

"So get involved in southern affairs? The exact reason my ancestors left." Errold responds sounding disgusted.

"Yes." Ned responds, his anger starting to get the better of him. "It is time the north woke up and realised that it cannot be content to sit on the side anymore. We have been laughed at for too long. We must move forward, or we will always suffer."

"Your father and brother died in the south did they not?" Snow asks cautiously.

"They did. And had they been more prepared, they would not have rushed into what they did. They could have survived." Ned responds honestly.

"And what has led to this enlightenment?" Snow asks. "Did you too not stay out of the south, to your detriment?"

"I did." Ned agrees. "And my family has suffered for it. The time to change has come. We must be involved; we have a responsibility to be involved."

Snow seems to be intrigued by what he has to say, and Ned is not sure if that is more concerning or a relief. Eventually the man speaks, his words slow and considered. "If I get involved, I will do this for one thing, and one thing only. The return of our lands and titles. And, a Bolton's head on a stick."

Ned considers this for a second then replies. "Very well, if that is what you want, that is what you will get." He shakes Snow's hand and wonders if this will go as well as he hopes it will.