Winterfell, a year earlier.
The morning light streamed through the windows of their bedroom. Ned tried to get up without disturbing his wife. Gods knew she needed her sleep. She looked tired all the time these days. Even this morning, after a full night's sleep, she still had dark circles under her eyes. The tented covers clearly outlined the shape of her body, heavy with their second child. He stumbled around the room to gather his clothes so he could go dress in his own chambers.
He was almost ready and sat back down on his own bed to put his boots on. A small smile ghosted over his face. He had hardly used his own room for sleeping since they had arrived at Winterfell as husband and wife. Even during the days of her moonblood, they slept side by side, occasionally indulging in other ways of satisfying each other. He knew he had subtly manipulated her at the beginning. He had played on her sense of duty to ease her into life in the North, into her role as Lady of Winterfell, into her role as his lover. And he had succeeded. In the safe environment of their private chambers, slowly but surely a loving wife had emerged.
Once they were left alone for the night, she let down her mask of the proud, stern lady of his household and a passionate lover appeared. Even better, she became his rock. Not only had he found the willing body he had craved for since his own had become aware of the allure of women, but he had also found an intelligent adviser and a trusted, caring partner to organize his keep and to raise his child with. Soon the right term would be children. Yes, his marriage had turned out all right.
Well at least mostly. Sometimes Ned had to use his autocratic tone of Warden of the North and put his foot down, mainly when it concerned Robb. Catelyn was rather overprotective. She was upset by each bruise he obtained while playing outside with the servant's children. She had been strongly against Ned's order to start his riding lessons or his formal sword training at what she called 'such a tender age'. If he would let her have her way, Robb would always be neatly dressed up as a little lord, hardly allowed to move, always being kept close by her side. The only thing she approved of was his lessons with Maester Luwin.
Their last big fight had been just a few days ago. It had started out innocently enough.
They were discussing the lesson plan that Maester Luwin had drafted for their son's education. His wife had been seated with her feet propped up on a footstool, leaning into him, the both of them installed on the large couch in her sitting room. The blazing hearth had made the scene appear even cosier.
"Calculus, reading lessons, writing lessons, the great houses of Westeros, geography," she paused looking up from the list into Ned's eyes. "Quite an impressive list for such a young child," she remarked. "And there is still more, let me continue: key words of the Old Tongue, High Valerian," she stopped once more. "High Valerian, Ned? Whatever will he need that for?"
"Well Cat, as you know someday 'Winter is coming'. So to state one reason: for the North to survive, we will need to increase our trade agreements with Essos. It is always better to understand your counterpart during negotiations. It is even better when they are not aware of it. It has helped me several times in the past not to mention how my younger brother has been able to get himself out of a few scrapes in Essos. One time especially when he could overhear two men discussing how they were going to rob him as soon as he had retired for the night. They had clearly recognized him as a traveller of some means who was staying at the tavern. They didn't speak High Valerian, but he could make out enough words from the dialect they were using to foil their plans."
"Anyhow, I have always thought that gathering knowledge is not only about its practical usefulness. It is a way to train the mind, to get a broader understanding of the world in its entirety, a way of developing yourself." He paused and smiled indulgently at her. "I'm sorry. I am getting carried away. Please read on, what's next on this list?"
"I'm almost at the end. Maester Luwin suggests that we would perhaps want to teach him about the Gods ourselves." Catelyn looking thoughtful, ventured:"Well, luckily you have built a little Sept at my request. I can start to take him with me a few times a sennight and tell him all about the Seven-Pointed Star. Soon he will be able to pray alongside me." She kept her expression neutral but held her breath waiting for Ned's reaction.
Ned frowned, tilted his head at her and was visibly searching for the right words. "Catelyn", he started, trying to remain calm and speak slowly in order to make her hear every single word he would speak to her, "Robb is a son of the North. One day, if all goes well, he will be the most powerful man in this Kingdom. His men must be loyal to him, respect him, understand him, must be able to see him as a true Northerner, as one of them." He kept his eyes firmly locked on hers. "We Northerners, and that includes me rather prominently make no mistake, we believe that the only Gods who have any power here in our beloved North are the old Gods. Your so-called new Gods are the Gods of the Andals. As you know us Northerners are not Andals. We are of the First Men and proud to be so."
Although he saw Catelyn grow tense and noticed the colour rise in her check he continued his discourse. "Robb will grow up with the Old Gods, pray in the Godswood, he will be married there as well. It is very likely he will marry a lady from a prominent Northern house. You can teach him about the Seven so he can understand the ways of the other Kingdoms but it will never be his religion."
Catelyn had withdrawn from him as far as the couch would allow. Although her eyes were teary, there was a hint of steel in them when she countered. "He is my son too, Ned. I will not let him grow up as a savage. My family will never understand. They will not respect him. It was difficult enough that I had to marry…". She was stopped by the thunderous expression on her husband's face as he interrupted her.
"Don't you dare finish that sentence, wife!" he yelled seeing he would not succeed in his plan to gently ease her into agreeing to adhere to his point of view on this. He imposed his authority over her. "I am your Lord and Husband, Woman! You will obey me in this! This is no discussion! I am telling you: Robb will worship the old Gods!" His last sentence was uttered with a significant pause between each word to further emphasize his edict. After finishing his diatribe he stood up and left the room abruptly not giving her any chance to object.
Two days of stony silence had ensued. Well, it hadn't helped that this particular topic had come up during the last stages of her pregnancy. Maester Luwin had tried to act as a peacemaker. He had patiently explained to his Lord that a pregnant woman could be a bit irrational at times. Since Ned hadn't been present during her first pregnancy he hadn't witnessed the mood swings that had plagued her then, the Maester had added. He had also reassured Ned that although Catelyn kept to her bedroom and wouldn't see him, her health was fine and her pregnancy was posing no problems. What Maester Luwin had used as arguments to soften Catelyn's attitude toward her husband, he knew not.
In the end, they had found a kind of fragile compromise, although Ned wouldn't dare to tell his wife that he considered it a victory. Robb would grow up with the Old Gods. However, if the Gods gifted their marriage with daughters, Catelyn was free to teach them the Seven-Pointed Star, but they would be instructed in both religions and would be allowed to make up their own mind once they were old enough to decide for themselves. Slowly the atmosphere at Winterfell ameliorated and their interactions grew affectionate once more.
Fortunately, she would deliver in a few days and he wouldn't have an irrational pregnant wife any longer. He decided to go to the Godswood and pray for a safe delivery and a healthy child.
The Godswood was as peaceful as always. Ned loved it here. This was the place where he could gather his thoughts together and focus on his problems. He had learned to tackle his issues one at a time. It was often the only way to stay sane. He would mentally picture his mind as this storage space with lots of tiny boxes. Then he would proceed to put every problem into a separate box. That way he could mentally take out the most pressing issue and no matter how complicated it had seemed before, with his entire mind focussed on this one difficulty, he was able to come to an acceptable solution most of the time. Then he could open another 'box' and concentrate on the next issue.
And the Gods knew he had his fair share of burdens. As if having become Warden of the North without being groomed for it wasn't enough of a burden onto itself, he was also responsible for the wellbeing of the largest of the seven Kingdoms, a kingdom with the harshest environment of all. It was not easy to keep his people fed and out of trouble. The Northern Lords were a proud and stubborn lot. The only reason he was able to keep them in line was because of their unwavering loyalty to House Stark.
The Starks had ruled the North for thousands of years, first as the Kings of Winter and for the last three hundred years as Wardens of the North and faithful subjects of the Targaryen Dynasty. The Rebellion had changed this status quo. Well, not for long, if Ned had anything to say about it.
For the moment Robert Baratheon was King of the Seven Kingdoms. Once Robert had been his best friend, he had even been closer to Robert than to his elder brother Brandon. Ned and Robert had grown up together for a few years, both being fostered at the Vale under the care of Jon Arryn. They were thick as thieves then and got in all kinds of trouble together but would always stand up for each other. Either they both got away or they were both punished. How times had changed.
Somehow his life had taken an unexpected turn. For some reason, the Gods had made him the main instigator of a conspiracy to overthrow King Robert's rule. 'Ironic really', he thought. 'I am a Stark, famous for the Stark honour. Robert will never see it coming.'
Ned kneeled in front of the hear tree. 'Why me?" he implored the Gods. "Why did you Gods put this burden on my shoulders?" The Gods remained eerily silent. Nevertheless, Ned felt his mind calm down. He could focus once more. Ned knew his course was set. He knew he was doing the right thing. There was no doubt. The envisioned endgame was the only true course!
Besides Robert could only blame himself for losing Ned's support. Robert had doomed his rule himself. And that only moments after claiming the throne.
Ned still had a hard time believing his erstwhile friend capable of relishing in the brutal murder of innocent children. Robert had waved aside Ned's protestations and refused to consider retaliations for the monsters who had taken it upon themselves to murder these children and their mother before Ned and Robert could reach the throne room.
No, Robert had done even worse. He had thanked these dishonourable men and raised their status. The Mountain became a trusted knight and Tywin Lannister became father-in-law to the King. Robert had married Lady Cersei of House Lannister and much of the Lannister gold with it. Ned had left the capital, disgusted, disillusioned and disappointed. He had evaded King Robert's invitations ever since, stating his office of Warden of the North as an excuse.
He told himself to stop reminiscing. The only thing he wished for was for someone to reassure him that the way they were trying to achieve their goal was the best one. Someone who could confirm that the plans they were devising were the best way to prevent as much bloodshed as possible when the time was upon them.
At least it helped some that he could talk these things through with Catelyn now. At first, he had kept everything from her, only Maester Luwin and Benjen knowing of the existence of Jon. But gradually Catelyn had become more a Stark than a Tully. She was fiercely loyal to her new family here in the north. And Ned had started to trust his wife with more delicate matters.
And then one night when he had been deeply troubled over a report from the Driftmark, Lyanna's secret poured out of him. At first, Catelyn had had trouble believing that Lyanna had not been kidnapped and raped, but had willingly eloped with the married crown prince. But as Ned started to elaborate she had taken it all in stride. Well, at least since she had learned of the annulment and the second marriage. She had relented once she had realized Jon was NOT a bastard but a trueborn prince.
Of course, she always insisted on taking every precaution possible for the safety of their family but she had become a soundboard. He could test his theories on her, gauge her reaction and work from there. Catelyn had become a co-conspirator. 'At least when it is not a religious issue', he chuckled.
Ned bowed his head and prayed once more for guidance from the Gods.
Feeling lighter he went back inside and entered his solar, determined to start working on the next steps now that his mind was calmer. He seated himself behind his desk. 'How best to go forward? I must contact Howland and see if he knows of another couple at the Driftmark who can take Jon in case Edric Velaryon succumb to his illness. I would like to go this time and see the boy but I cannot be missed here at the moment. Perhaps it is also better no to risk it yet. Better to send Benjen on official business to Greywater Watch. And I must send for …'
"My Lord," the handmaid of Lady Catelyn stumbled in unannounced interrupting his solitary reflections. She seemed out of breath and Ned knew immediately something was the matter with his wife.
"Catelyn?" he asked standing abruptly already on his way to the door.
"Her waters have broken, My Lord! Your child will be born soon! But you cannot go to her now, my Lord!" She blocked the doorway. "Best stay here and let the women handle this." The handmaid, realising that she had just given orders to her Lord, became anxious and bit her lip. Ned saw her take a deep breath before she added. "That is if you don't mind me saying so, my Lord." She curtsied. "I will inform his Lordship as soon as there is more news to relay. I am sorry for disturbing you, my Lord."
Ned sat down again and nodded. The handmaid left in a hurry. A few moments later he quit the room in search of some company. Staying in his solar, served no purpose. He wasn't able to concentrate any longer.
***
In the Great Hall, his brother Benjen and Rodrik Cassel, his Master at Arms, were doing their utmost to keep Lord Stark calm. Benjen was a bit out of his depth here but showed his solidarity by his continuing presence. Cassel offered more substantial help. He had successfully stopped Ned's pacing, had persuaded him to take a seat and had ordered a servant to fetch ale for the three of them. Next, he had tried to distract Ned with some amusing anecdotes of previous childbirths in his family. Of course, he stuck to the more positive aspects and for the most part, told tales of the adorable antics of small babes.
After what seemed like days of waiting to Ned but it had actually been less than half a day, the handmaid arrived with a small bundle in her hands. "Congratulations my Lord! You have a daughter!"
Ned couldn't stop the smile from spreading over his face. "And my wife?" He inquired, "Is she all right? How soon can I visit her?"
"She is resting now my Lord. The birth was not all that difficult but still, each childbed asks a lot of a woman's body. I will let you know when she awakens." The handmaid carefully handed the tiny girl to her father.
Ned was awed. The first time he had seen Robb, the boy had already been several moons old. His daughter, however, was tiny, just like Jon had been. Robb had been a giant compared to them. She almost disappeared inside his arms. He had to readjust her in order to be able to see the little face and did so with trepidation. She looked so frail. However, the baby hardly reacted to his awkward manhandling. She was lovely to behold. There were already tusks of red hair visible on her little head. Benjen and Rodrik both strained to catch a glimpse of her.
"Congratulations big brother. I predict she will be a beauty when she grows up. In a few years, you will have to use all your cunning to keep the suitors at bay. Not to mention all the ravens you will receive from the great houses petitioning for marriage alliances." Benjen grinned at his brother. "Better you than me."
His face turned more serious. "I am glad Catelyn is all right though."
"Me too, brother, without a doubt, me too." Ned still beamed, his eyes never wavering from his daughter's face. It had taken him some time to get Catelyn with child again. Robb would be celebrating his fourth name day in a few days. Catelyn had suffered a miscarriage two year ago, so this little one was truly very welcome. He focussed on the bundle in his arms again, starting to feel a suspicious moist trickle down forearm.
He started to walk towards the nursery in search of female assistance. In the corridor, he motioned for a guard to approach and instructed him to fetch Robb. "Tell my son to come inside and clean himself up. Then he should be escorted to the nursery," he ordered the guard whose eyes were drawn to the little bundle in his Lord's arms.
"Of course, my Lord. I will send the little lord up straight away. And congratulations, my Lord!", the guard said deferentially tearing his eyes away from the cute baby girl as he hurried in the direction of the courtyard.
Ned resumed his trip to the nursery. He looked forward to introducing his son and daughter to each other.
***
The next day, Lord Stark summoned Maester Luwin to his solar. He felt on top of things again. It was time to throw himself back into his duties.
"Good morning, Maester! I need you to prepare messages to the Lords of the North." Ned started the conversation before the Maester could close the door. "We can announce the birth of my daughter but will use the opportunity to add extra info in the scrolls. I want to arrange a meeting. It's high time we reconvene to check on the different stages of our reinforcement efforts and plan for the next steps. In the message destined for Ironrath, ask Gregor Forrester whether he is prepared to host the meeting this time. Do not forget to order Lord Manderly to send a messenger out to contact Lord Reed at Greywater Watch. I want the man to leave today. Reed should at the very least send a representative to our meeting if he cannot be present himself."
"I will all be done as you wish it, my Lord", Luwin bowed and started to leave the room before reconsidering. "I presume we will send out messages to the Red Keep and The Vale as well? The message to the Tullys has already been sent as previously prepared."
"Yes, send a message to the Vale but only with the news that I have a daughter and she and my wife are healthy. As for a message to King Robert, I don't know." Ned frowned, his good mood having all but left him.
"I suppose it cannot be helped." Ned decided after releasing a sigh. "I only fear it will result in another summons to King's landing. I am running out of excuses to turn King Robert down gently and not cause a permanent rift. I worry that if I keep refusing his invitations, one day the King will turn up at Winterfell without notice."
Ned went over to the window and looked down at his son who was playing outside with his wooden toys. That little boy had not a care in the world. He took a deep breath and answered Maester Luwin's question. "Yes, do send out a raven to the Red Keep but keep it formal and as brief as possible. Best send out ravens to a representative of each of the Kingdoms as well: House Martell, House Tyrell, Lord Renly and Stannis Baratheon, … I'm sure you know who to inform better than me. By no means are you allowed to send a raven to Pyke. That is all. Thank you, Maester."
Robb was still playing in the courtyard but had spotted his father by now. He smiled and waved at him with great enthusiasm. Ned returned his wave and moved away from the window. The sight of his happy son and heir had lifted his spirits. 'Time to tackle the agenda for the coming meeting and I must not forget to look in on my wife and daughter.' Ned sat back down at his desk and started to study the drawings of the harbour expansions.
Interlude3: Summerhall
Somewhere in the Stormlands.
"Gods it was hot". Years living on an island where there was always at least a refreshing breeze had made him forget how much heat a blistering sun could generate in the middle of the day this far inland, this far south. Ser Arthur mopped his brow for what seemed like the thousandth time. He was alone, but somehow that was a nice change. For once he didn't bear the responsibility for someone's life, for the life of a child of humongous importance.
Four years ago at the Tower of Joy, the three of them had unanimously decided to withdraw from public life in the Seven Kingdoms and vowed to dedicate their lives to protect the newborn King and help him reclaim his throne once the Prince was old enough to stake his claim. They had been prepared to do anything necessary even if that meant allying themselves with House Stark. It had been a calculated gamble. Ser Gerold had been steadfast in his belief that for Lord Eddard of House Stark kinship meant everything. "Wolves protected their pack at all cost. And the baby is of his blood," Gerold had argued.
And his Lord Commander had been right. Hells, Lord Stark had instantly hurried to the far south of the Seven Kingdoms, the lord's only inducement being a vague anonymous message that Ser Arthur and his two brothers of the Kingsguard had formulated and addressed to Eddard Stark, for his eyes only. The message contained the vague whereabouts of his missing sister.
The rest had been easy. Ser Gerold had covertly approached the Lord of Winterfell and brought him to the Tower of Joy to meet poor Lyanna. Ser Gerold still enjoyed repeating each detail of his initial conversation with the young, proud Lord on that fateful night.
Lord Stark and Howland Reed hadn't recognised Ser Gerold Hightower at first. Well, it was dark and Ser Gerold had not been dressed befitting a Kingsguard. But still, afterwards, Lord Stark had told Ser Arthur he couldn't fathom why he hadn't recognised the Lord Commander the very moment the man had accosted him that night near the stables of that inn in Dorne. Upon learning that Ser Gerold could guide him to his sister who was seriously ill, but that discretion was paramount to guarantee her safety, Ned Stark and Howland Reed had agreed to follow him to the Tower of Joy forthwith, without alerting the rest of their travelling party fitfully sleeping at the inn. These men would remain unaware they had temporarily been abandoned by their liege lord.
It had been a heartbreaking scene that greeted Ser Arthur when he had left his post and had set foot in the room a few moments after granting entrance to the two Northerners. Ned Stark was sitting on his knees next to the bed. A feverish Lyanna, although hardly conscious, seemed to recognize her brother. She had taken his hand and had beseeched him with her last breaths to protect her newborn son, the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms. Ned had been devastated and bewildered. His eyes had found the wet nurse who stood in the corner with a small baby in her hands, sobbing quietly. Then he saw the blood staining the furs. Unable to utter a single word, he had desperately held his sister's small hands in his and had silently nodded to her, promising to do as she requested.
It seemed that Lyanna had successfully staved off death until she could see her son safely cared for by her kin. Her last words were spoken so softly that Ned had to lean over and put his ear to her mouth to be able to hear them: "His name is Aegon, Aegon Targaryen". And Lyanna had released her last breath.
Ser Arthur still recalled the heated debate that ensued later in a room at ground level before reaching a consensus everybody could live with. Lord Stark had been adamant. The boy belonged with him. He would take him to Winterfell and proclaim him to be his son. He would forsake his honour and admit he had betrayed his wife and sired a bastard during the war. His nephew would grow up alongside his true children. Aegon wouldn't want for anything.
The three Kingsguards had been appalled. Their King growing up with the stigma of a bastard hanging over his head, unacceptable! Furthermore, they could not let him go anywhere without them. They were sworn to protect him. And if they followed him to Winterfell, anyone who had a lick of sense would immediately put two and two together. Aegon and everyone who had helped hide him would be in mortal danger. King Robert's hate for House Targaryen knew no bounds.
They seemed at an impasse. Several possibilities were suggested and rejected out of hand, the free cities with the other Targaryens being one of them. But all of a sudden, Howland Reed, who had stayed out of the discussion until then, had offered a possible solution. After some tweaking, a plan had been agreed upon by all parties and the rest was history. Howland Reed had accompanied them on their journey to the Driftmark. Ned Stark had reluctantly left his nephew in their hands and had returned to the inn. The next morning, in the company of his entire entourage, he would pick up Lyanna's bones and bring his sister back to Winterfell to be buried in the crypts of her ancestral home.
And in one fell swoop, Ser Arthur's life had been turned upside down. One day he was a famous Kingsguard, hailed as the best swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms and proudly bearing the honourable title of "Sword of the Morning", the next day he was forced to go by a false name, disguised as a modest war veteran, living on a small island and doing his utmost to keep a low profile. Not once had he dared to reach out to his family, who were still mourning his loss.
Almost five years he had been living like that now, in a small village at the Driftmark and recently at Greywater Watch in the Neck. But Ser Arthur didn't regret the choices they had made that fateful day. Quite the opposite really! He had come to love the little boy-King and was convinced that he could become an excellent ruler with the right guidance. The small boy had his heart in the right place, could already reign in his temper most of the time and showed intelligence beyond his years. Yes, he was prepared to make any sacrifice necessary to do right by his true King.
Ser Arthur's stopped his reminiscing. He had arrived. The ruins of Summerhall were before him. 'Let's find out whether Lord Reed is right about this and I haven't come all this way on a wild goose chase.'
Another benefit of allying themselves with the North had been the strange premonitions of Lord Reed. The crannogman called himself a 'greenseer'. Ser Arthur wasn't at all sure that he understood all of what that entailed, but he knew that Lord Reed had been instrumental in thwarting the little birds and other spies until now. His warnings had helped them escape detection on several occasions.
'Well, I can only hope his so-called vision of the eggs also proves true.' Ser Arthur was sent alone on this mission because discretion was of the utmost importance. Lord Reed had dreamt that the three dragon eggs were still somewhere at Summerhall. He had explained that in his dreams he had seen the eggs lying somewhere in a kind of cave beneath the ruins. He had even claimed that at the time of the dream he had felt a premonition that the eggs were somehow waiting for Aegon.
'It does actually make sense that the eggs are still here. I know of rumours that the fire which destroyed Summerhall had been caused by an attempt to hatch the dragon eggs. Perhaps the floor collapsed and the eggs disappeared beneath it? Nobody lived to tell the tale.' Arthur pondered. His heart pounded in his chest as he entered the ruins, eager to start the search.
He had been searching for a day and a half and had been over every nook and cranny of these damned caves twice. He was about to give up when suddenly a ray of sunlight shone through a crack in the cave wall and showed him the way to an alcove he had missed when he had inspected that corner twice before. Ser Arthur felt a sense of calm enveloping him. It now seemed as if the Gods were guiding him, wishing for him to succeed in this quest. And lo and behold, there they were! Ser Arthur kneeled in front of the alcove and marvelled at the sight before him. Three eggs lay there, sparkling in the sunlight. Each one was unique in its own beauty. One egg was a blend of shades of green, the middle one was silvery and the last one, the biggest one was a shiny black.
Ser Arthur remained in this reverent position in front of the eggs for quite some time. He couldn't believe it. How had these eggs not been discovered before? These were probably the most important artefacts to be found in the Seven Kingdoms.
Finally, emerging from his stupor, he very delicately removed the eggs from their hiding place. Now the only thing he left for him was to carry these precious eggs safely to Greywater Watch without anyone finding out where he had been and what he was he carrying.
'A piece of cake compared to what I've faced before, or at least I hope it will be.'