Winterfell POV:
Rickard Stark, The warden of the North,
and The Lord of Winterfell was sitting in his Solar as he precided over the matters put in front of him.
The harvest feast was going to happen in a month, and there were arrangements to be made.
Eddard, his second son, was here for the harvest feast, and he was proud of his son for what he was becoming.
Eddard was the perfect son, loyal and humble and most of all honorable and just .
He was the perfect example of how a true lord of the north should be, and he was damn proud of his son.
If only , Brandon his first born son and his heir was ten percent of what Eddard was Rickard would die a happy man.
But fate was not at all kind to Rickard when it came to Brandon.
Brandon never cared for his lessons , he was wreckless and prone to anger and carried his heart on his sleeves.
He could care less for diplomacy and even lesser for others' opinions about him or how they feel about him.
The Wolf's blood howled the strongest within Brandon, and it showed, though at first sight his son gave off a perception that he didn't care, but he could smell deception from a mile away. He couldn't care less for his lessons and diplomacy, but he on the battle field he was as if Fenrir himself has decended on the battlefield to reap the lives of his enemies.
He was the perfect warrior, and born general who commanded the respect and trust of his soldiers. He lead every battle from the front charging at the hordes of enemies with a smile on his face as if he was born for this.
Though he was just twenty six years in age but had already earned the title of the Wild Wolf from everyone in the north.
The best part about Brandon was that he loved his family.
Eddard and Brandon completed each other like the legends of old. Their brotherhood was legendary amongst the people of the north
and this was Rickard greatest pride in his life that his two sons rather scheming against each other for being the lord of the north like all the other sons of the lords in the south ,
they helped and supported each other and trusted each other with their lives.
Rickard knew it in his bones, that as long as Brandon and Eddard are alive and draw their breaths, the north would always prosper and stand proud no matter what happens.
His only daughter Layanna was also similar to Brandon wild and untamed yet kind and caring for those who depended on her.
Right now, though she was pissed off at him after hearing of her engagement to the lord of the storm lands Robert Baratheon.
Brandon was away to House Dustin and Eddard was visiting House Cerwyn for the supplies that he had ordered.
Rickard was in a tenious position, the North Hardly cared for the qurallels and schemes of the relam but that did not mean that he could completely ignore them as well.
Even he had to keep his eyes and ears open to the happenings of the relam.
He had long ago suspected that the Targaryen madness will emerge in Aerys after his proclaimations and promises.
And now with the Intel that he was gathering it turns out that his suspicions were true.
Aerys had indeed succumbed to the Targaryen madness and it scared the shit out of him in all honesty.
He did not want to fight a war cause of the madness of the king.
He would not risk shedding a drop of his family's blood for that mad Bastard.