1st Month, 326 AC

Derek's return to Deepwood Motte was typical. A few "hello my lord"s from servants and some "welcome back"s from the guards at the gates we're all that welcomed him as he walked towards the keep that he'd called home for years now. The familiar crunch of a horse's hoof, something he'd heard for hours on end for the last two months was now replaced with his wet boots stomping through the wooden halls of the Motte until he found his sons solar.

Throwing the door open and taking his leather gloves off in one fluid motion, Derek's eyes met his son's. Both sets brown as the wood of the Motte, Derek yelled out, "Ah my boy!"

The little lad turned around quickly, dropping the wooden fox he'd been playing with. "Father, you're back!" Broden pushed himself off the ground running to his father. Derek grabbed him quickly, holding him to the air. "Ah, you've grown so big while I was away." The two embraced tightly, Broden voice was muffled into his father's collar.

"You've been away for years father."

Derek chuckled. "Months, my son, months. Though it felt like years since I've seen you. Where is your mother?"

The boy pulled his face away, a bright smile on his face as he shrugged. Derek tussled the lads hair, brown with small curls like his own. "Go find her then, and be quick about it boy." Broden ran to the door before stopping himself, running back to his fox on the floor to pick it up, and then continued to run as fast as his legs could hold him. Even from down the hallway Derek could hear him shouting, "Father is home, father is home!"

Derek chuckled to himself again, walking out of the room he found himself face to face with his cousin. "Cadder old boy, how have you been?"

"Derek, I heard you had returned, I'm glad you're alright what happened with the Northern Mountain Clans?"

Derek sighed loudly, rubbing his hands together for warmth. "A whole lot of horse shite, None of the lords met in the right location, the men and I sat in a field for three months with some Umber men. Damn can they drink." The two men laughed together as they began to walk towards the greathall. "After months with no word I rode to Highpoint to find out that Lord Umber seized the place himself, not a bad trip but I'd rather have been here and warm."

"Well let's get you to a hearth cousin, a lot has happened while you were away and I fear you'll have to leave again soon."

"Oh?" Was all that could Derek could muster. His face dropped sorrowfully.

"Somethings happened in the south. Lord Stark ordered every lord or a representative march to Winterfell with half an army."

A silence ensued. Derek sighed again but the walk to the hall was short and silent. "Bring me the letters I need to read, have my horse and men prepared, we'll leave in the morning. Until then don't bring any news to me unless it's crucial. I need to see my family.

"Aye Derek, it'll be done." Cadder nodded.

Late 2nd Month, 326 AC

Derek looked at the towers of Winterfell in the distance, his mind had grown weary from travel but now he was required to meet with other lords, something he often disliked. Winterfell had been bad to him overall, two friends had been lost here, and the last time he'd been called here he coped with ale. Now an important issue would only be clouded by bad memories.

"Shall I anounce us my lord?" Jon Wheat spoke through the wind and snow.

"No I'll do it myself, thank you Jon." Derek rode closer to the gates, a man carrying the banner of House Enderly rode next to him. "Derek Enderly, Lord of Deepwood Motte, asking entrance to Winterfell after being called upon by Lord Stark."