This story was not of my own mind. A request was put in for a story and I agreed to write it out, this is the work of FeralG3 that I have simply put some of my own ideas on and posted with his consent. I hope you enjoy, I will hopefully be updating this at least once every 2 weeks, just like my other story. THIS IS NOT IN THE SAME UNIVERSE as my story. This is simply the request of a creative person. I hope you enjoy my writing of his idea and I hope you enjoy the small bits of my own ideas that are added in.

PS: I am not so good at writing fight scenes at this moment in time so I apologise if it is a bit... shit.

POV: Landon Stark

It was early in the morning, I had awoken early to train a bit more. I needed to keep my body in check even if there was no war or battles on the horizon. Father reassures me that such training is not needed but he still approves of my desire to train. Hells I was taller and certainly much stronger than him and my brothers. My name is Landon Stark, twin to Robb Stark of Winterfell in the North. I am the tallest of all my siblings, being around 6'8ft. Some call me "The Giant Wolf" because of this, others call me the "The Stone Wolf" due to my large body, broad shoulders, some joke that I could rival Duncan the Tall or the man known as The Mountain... The butcher of children.

As I dressed into my practical clothing made of fine leather, I exited the keep and made my way to the training yard, I saw my half brother there. He was wielding a training sword and slashing at a training dummy, as I walked closer I let out a chuckle and said: "I think you've killed him, little brother". Even if he is not the child of my mother... He is my brother.

Jon turned to me, his face as grim as ever. "Up early again Landon?" He asked.

"Aye, we need to train after all. Us northerners are the biggest of warriors" I said and he chuckled. I grabbed hold of a training sword and looked at him. "Fancy a sparing made little brother?" I asked, he turned to me and smiled slightly before nodding.

"Alright, how about a bet?" He asks.

I glanced at him as we stood in the centre of the training ground. "Oh? Wagering becoming an addiction Jon?" I ask, half out of worry and half as a joke.

He shook his head before saying "Of course not, just a friendly challenge".

"Alright little brother, lets wager... How about 25 silver pieces?" I suggest.

He thinks for a moment on it while flourishing his sword. "50" He says.

I just chuckle and nod my head "Alright" I say before flouring my own dull longsword while he had a bastard sword. Soon the fight began and it seemed pretty even. Jon was a good fighter, hell I'd say he was better than Robb. Jon was shorter and faster than me but I have the strength and power to put him off balance a lot. I think if I swing hard enough, I could easily decapitate his head from his body even with this dull sword. Though I am sure my mother would thank me for it, no one else would... Except maybe my little sister Sansa.

The fight was long since we were pretty evenly matched, soon though I managed to knock Jon down onto the ground and I pressed the tip of my sword to his neck while my left boot slammed down on his sword so he could not lift it. "Yield?" I ask.

He pants a little, looking up at me and shaking his head "We never yield" He tells me. I smile and nod before pulling my sword away from him.

"That's right little brother" I tell him as I reach down and help him back up onto his feet. "Starks are strong, we don't yield to our enemies" I told him before patting his shoulder. "You can keep your silver" I said before putting my training sword away.

Later on, I and my brothers were all together as our father came up to us. "prepare your horses and grab your gear... We are riding out" He told us. We all looked at each other then to him once again. Before one of us could even ask, he says "A deserter from the watch has been caught... Justice must be served" He explained before turning to my younger brother, Bran. "You are coming too Bran, it's time you learn duty" He said before making his way to the stables, everyone began walking to the stables as well. I got there and went to my horse, Brute. He was a beautiful Shire horse with two sock back legs, his fur as black as the night itself, his mane quite short as was his tail. He was a loyal creature almost as stubborn as I was but I loved the big softie. I saddled him up and prepared, getting my sword that my father forged for me on my 12th name day. It was a longsword with a wooden wolfs head carved as the hilt. The hilt and handle are both made of wood from the Weirwood Tree but the handle is wrapped with fine black leather for better grip.

Once I was equipped and ready, I mounted my horse and began riding out with my family and some of the Stark Guards. It didn't take us too long to get to the place where the Black Brother was caught. Though the man was caught, he seemed to be already dead in mind and spirit... What in the gods' name did he witness up there that seemingly terrified him so? During the execution, I stood beside Bran who Jon whispered to "Not look away". It was time the boy learned sadly... It was a rough method of teaching duty but it was required.

When the man's head fell by the feet of Theon Greyjoy, the ward of my father, the man laughed before kicking the head away. Jon began moving to him but I extended my arm out to hold Jon from moving any further, so he began voicing his disapproval instead.

After the execution, we began riding back home when we came across a dead stag in the road. We dismounted our horses and drew our blades as we approached. I noticed a blood trail leading away from the body and followed it off-road. "Careful" My father said as I carried on, keeping Jon by my side as back-up.

Not far from the road, we came across the body of a Direwolf with 6 pups nuzzled into her belly. "Father! You should see this" I call out, signalling for my father and the others to come down to see the corpse of the wolf. Upon Theon's comment of it being a freak of nature, I say "Mind your tongue squidling".

Our father wanted them dead... But Jon spoke against it, convincing our father. One of the pups was mine, I named him "Bear" since I intended to make him a big, strong wolf when he grew a bit more.

Sometime later, our father received word of the King coming down to the north... Everyone could guess why. As the time came closer to the King arriving, myself, Robb, Jon and Theon were told to sharpen up and look proper so we were having our hair cut and bears shaved. We spoke about the royal family and how the prince Joffrey seemed to be a royal twat with hair as golden as a lions fur. The little turd.. Robb said he would duel the lad with wooden swords, see just what the boy is made of. I chuckled and said he should, it would be good to see the royal prick shit himself when learning how the northerners fight.

Sure enough, this little duel did happen. I watched as Robb and Joffrey duelled with wooden swords since no one wanted an injury, it was quite interesting. Joffrey the little shit eater, challenged Robb to use live steel against each other. This prompted me to push myself from the stone wall I was leaning against just as Rodrik the master-at-arms stepped in and said no. When plenty of the present Lannister retainers began saying they were afraid of the prince hurting Robb, I felt the wolf blood within me boil up. I walked over, towering over all of them and said "I'll fight against you four with live steel if you are so confident" And I swear most of them shit themselves when I said this. Even the little prince hesitated but he ordered his retainers to spar me. Rodrik tried to stop me but I spoke against him and commanded him to be silent... He knew my skill so he allowed this to continue on. I had been fighting since I was 10, by that age I was about the right size to pass a young soldier, so I disguised myself and went out at times, ended up fighting bandits and some of the mountain clansmen raiders. That only stopped when my helm was knocked from my head and people saw the prince fighting beside them. Gods father was angry at how reckless I was but I managed to persuade him to let me continue patrolling. I was clearly good with a sword, enough so that I killed many bandits before even being discovered and I never got injured, only a bruise here and there. He told me that I reminded him of his older brother Brandon in a way... Since then I have been fighting alongside our patrols and guards against bandits and raiders. I never liked the violence and often, I negotiated for the raiders to leave. Sometimes it worked... Other times not so much. Though I did gain respect from many clansmen, I still did not enjoy killing people.

I flourished my longsword as the retainers circled me, they had their swords drawn and I wore nothing but my leather, much against Rodriks wishes. The retainers seemed to be shitting themselves even as they circled me, they kept looking to each other to see who would attack first... Eventually one did attack but he ran like an idiot. His sword was out at his side, not even ready to swing so I lifted my leg and slammed my boot against the idiots stomach, quickly blocking an attack from the right after, moving one hand from the hilt and smashing my fist against the retainers face with such strength that he fell to the floor. I swung my sword wide then brought it back around and got into a guard position as the last two stood before me. One swung wide at me, I managed to block him then push his own sword back against him, pushing his back up against a wall, pressing the sword up against his body quite hard, causing him to groan out loud as the blade cuts through his clothing a little. The last one shouted "Enough!" Before stabbing his sword into the ground. "We yield!" He shouted again. I glanced back at him then moved from the man in front of me, allowing him to quickly drop his sword and hold over his shoulder that was slightly cut into because of the pressure I put against the blade when against him. "Well... Won't lie I am very disappointed. You lot are shit" I say before walking away, my sword in hand.

"You broke my fucking nose" One said as he stood up, I looked at him and chuckled "you'll thank me when the ladies ask, try and think of a good lie... You southerners are good at lying" I pointed out. Robb chuckled and even Ser Rodrik smiled slightly before I left. Later I was at the feast with my family, laughing with my brother Robb and drinking ale, I may be young but many mistake me for a grown man, I don't complain. This was a good day, well I mean there was some shit its but all in all, it was a good day. The best part of it would have to be kicking the arsed of those retainers.