"Oh dear, you must stop pacing." Grandmother scolded, cradling her watered-down wine.
The queen and her grandmother were in the royal bedchambers. Robb was away with Tyrion, catching up on the affairs of the realm. Mira was looking over Torehnn in the godswood, and Sansa was with her betrothed as the last of the lords of the Vale arrived on a ship from Gulltown. The two Baratheon boys, Gendry and Edric, had been taken under Harry's wing as he became an older brother to the two. He knew that they would be expected to receive the last of the stormlords whenever they arrived, and so he wanted to set an example of what would be expected of them.
All in all, the future great lords of the realm looked to be getting along well. Tommen had even been seen sparring with Edric Baratheon as both boys were under the tutelage of Jaime Lannister.
"I don't know what to make of this Jon situation," Margaery explained, continuing to pace.
Margaery had told Robb that she trusted his judgment, and like the noble, trusting man he was, he had accepted her answer without a second thought. To her credit, Margaery had tried to accept the situation and let it go, but it continued to nag her. Every instinct, each one placed carefully in her politically-astute mind by her grandmother, roared against her. She had been trained to regard every player within the game as a threat, regardless of any situation. For better or worse, Jon was now a player that Margaery had to watch.
It didn't help her sleep at night that he was a very dangerous warrior who was training to ride a dragon and was the true heir to the Iron Throne and House Targaryen.
"You do," Grandmother argued. "I didn't train you to be indecisive. Speak your mind."
Margaery sent a look at the old woman before stopping and crossing her arm, looking out of the open window towards the city. It was a marvelous view, and because of how high up they were, all the sounds of the city blended into a musical white noise.
"I don't trust him," Margaery said sadly. "I try, but it goes against everything you taught me."
Grandmother rolled her eyes. "My dear, sweet, naive child. When I taught you all of that, never in my wildest schemes did I believe that our family would be aligned with the North or the Starks for that matter."
"Why's that?" Margaery asked curiously.
"Rumors had spread that Ned Stark was adopting a similar political stance as Dorne." Grandmother explained. "He wanted nothing to do with the south, and knowing what little I did about Ned Stark, he was going to keep that stance for as long as he lived."
"So you took the Starks out of the game entirely," Margaery said.
Grandmother nodded. "I did. Now that we know more about them, it's quite easy to disregard his children, including Jon."
"You're making an assumption!" Margaery scoffed.
"One based on the knowledge of the man." Grandmother countered, defending herself. "I spoke to Jon Stark many times while the king led the campaign against the Lannisters. Like your husband, he is unflinchingly loyal to his family and would jump from the Hightower before fighting against them." to emphasize her point, she stamped her cane on the ground.
Margaery shook her head and fell into the seat next to her grandmother. Greywind, sensing the queen's distress and annoyance, rose from his place near the fire, shook himself once, and padded over to her. When he was close enough, he sat down and laid his massive head in her lap, looking up at her with large, golden, innocent eyes.
Margaery couldn't help but run a hand through his fur, finding it strangely relaxing.
"Child, the Starks are a pack." Grandmother explained gently. "Oh, a stag or a lion can run free, but not a wolf." she tutted, wagging a finger. "You are part of their pack, one that Jon is a part of as well. We have nothing to fear from him, only the woman by his side."
"You say that some men think with their cocks." Margaery countered.
"Jon Stark won't," Grandmother promised. "He's too….Stark for that."
Margaery huffed and looked down at Greywind, who had his eyes closed in happiness as he received the affection of his mistress. There were times Margaery wondered how such a creature could be so frightening to the enemy when all she saw was the giant puppy Greywind normally was around her, Robb, and Torrhen.
"What am I to do?" Margaery asked.
"That is a very good question." Grandmother mused. "We both know that the Targaryen woman will never fully let go of her desire for the Iron Throne. She's much too cunning for that."
"That's true," Margaery said, "but that doesn't answer my question."
"To put it simply, my dear, we have an ally in the enemy camp." Grandmother replied. "What did I tell you about northmen? Honor, duty, and loyalty run through their veins. It's in the air they breathe and the milk they suckle from their mother's breast. If Jon Stark hears of any schemes that would put the king or his family in danger, he will not hesitate to protect those he loves."
Margaery looked at her grandmother. The Queen of Thorns had a look of total confidence in her words, a look she wore most of the time. It was a look Margaery had come to trust unconditionally. If her grandmother felt so strongly about Jon, then Margaery believed her.
"Very well." Margaery sighed. "You wouldn't happen to have any more advice, do you?"
Grandmother glanced down at Margaery's slim stomach. "Your husband marches off to war soon. I can't command the queen, but I would advise my granddaughter to expand her pack if possible."
Eddard Stark
Ned felt a feeling of relief as he rode into Winterfell. After months away at the Wall and the Gift, it felt good to be back home, surrounded by family and friends. As he had expected, Cat was waiting for him in the courtyard, keeping her composure and looking like the Lady of Winterfell.
Her eyes, on the other hand, told a different story.
Arya and Rickon were by her side. Arya had grown a little since Ned had last seen her, but there was a certain maturity to her now. She looked almost as composed as her mother instead of looking like she was ready to bolt off at a moment's notice. Something must have happened to temper her wolf blood, something Ned resolved to find out.
Rickon, like Arya, had grown more since Ned's been away, but he had kept his child-like annoyance for protocol. Off to the side, Syrio and Osha waited patiently for their charges to be released. Alongside them were Eddard Karstark and Maester Byron, waiting patiently to see Ned.
Ned and his guards dismounted, causing everyone in the courtyard to bow. The northern lord strode confidently up to his lady-wife, who looked up at him with eyes of utter adoration and love.
"Winterfell is yours, my lord," she said formally.
Ned said nothing. He simply wrapped his wife in his arms, feeling her collapse into his embrace. Others around the courtyard took this as their cue to leave, not wanting to disturb their liege lord and his moment with his wife.
After a long moment with Cat, Ned got down on one knee and grabbed Rickon under his arms, lifting him into the air and hugging him tightly. The boy squealed in delight before throwing his arms around Ned's neck and burying his face in the folds of Ned's cloak.
"By the Old Gods you've grown," Ned muttered in his son's ear before putting him down.
Immediately, Rickon looked up at his mother, who simply nodded to him, a slight smile on her face. The boy raced off, Osha striding off after him with an exasperated look on her face.
Ned turned to Arya, squatting down and looking at her with an expectant look. The girl was now trying very hard to keep a smile off her face before she finally gave in and threw her arms around her father, who returned the hug fiercely. When she pulled back, Ned kept one hand on her shoulder, still gazing at her.
"What's happened to your wolf blood, child?" he asked quietly.
"Jon told me to defend Winterfell," Arya whispered with a look of determination. "I promised I would."
Ned nodded, now understanding what had happened. With Jon in the south with the Targaryen woman, he must have told Arya to protect Winterfell and their family with both he and Ned gone. The northern lord knew the feeling well as it was the same feeling that had overcome him after Robert's Rebellion.
"You have done your job then," Ned said proudly. Arya, to his surprise, shook her head.
"Not yet," she said. "I will when you, Jon, and Robb go back to the Wall to fight the Others."
Ned tried not to look grim. "Aye, I have no doubt you will," he said finally. "Go, train with Syrio if you haven't already." Arya nodded and was about to leave when Ned grabbed her shoulder again, turning her around.
"Where's Bran?"
Arya looked towards the godswood. "He hasn't moved all day," she said before leaving.
Ned looked towards where the trees were peeking out over castle walls. He looked at Cat, who had remained where she was while Ned greeted their children. Ned rose to his feet, adjusting his leather jerkin and belt as he did. He put a hand on his wife's arm, squeezing it gently.
"I'll be with you soon," he promised.
Cat did a little courtesy. "I will await you in your solar, my lord," she said before walking back towards the keep, Maester Byron on her heels.
Ned looked back towards the godswood.
Line Break
"You have proven that you can look into the past," Ned said as soon as he was close enough to his son. "What powers do you have over the future?"
"None," Bran answered. "I can only predict what may happen. I do not know what will happen."
Ned moved towards the log next to the pond, taking a seat on it. It was the same log he sat on when he cleaned Ice after an execution. The northern lord leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and looking at the young man who looked like his son, but Ned wasn't sure if he was or not.
"What will happen to Jon?" Ned asked. "Have I made the right decision?"
Bran looked at him with that same unsettling, unfeeling look of his. "You worry that he will go mad."
Ned could only nod. He knew that it was superstitious of him to believe such a thing, but Ned knew that Jon certainly showed characteristics of his true father. He was reserved and prone to brood, just as Rhaegar was said to. He looked like a Stark, which Ned thanked the gods for every day, but there was Targaryen blood running through his veins, and that worried Ned.
"He won't." Bran continued. "You were right to tell Daenerys Targaryen. We need both her dragons."
"The Green Man told her we would," Ned said. "I didn't have much of a choice."
"You did." Bran countered. "But if you had not told her, I would have."
Ned recoiled slightly. He couldn't help but feel a flicker of anger ignite in his stomach. "You have no right, Bran."
"I have a right to help humanity, father," Bran replied, gazing at the horrified expression carved into the trunk of the giant white tree. "As your son, you are right. As the last greenseer, I will do what I must."
Ned bit his tongue, repressing any anger he had. He knew, deep down, that Bran was right. He was only angry because he had defied his best friend and king to keep the only thing he had left of his sister alive.
"You can predict the future," Ned said finally, changing the subject. "The wildlings and the Watch had made their peace with each other, as thin as it is. What now?"
"What now?" Bran asked, looking at Ned.
"What more is there to do?" Ned elaborated.
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing."
"Surely there is something."
"Not for you. Your part is done. All you must do now is fight."
"What about Robb? Jon?" Ned asked, annoyed that he was being told to sit off to the side. He was used to being the one who led the charge. He led the army of the North against the Targaryens and ironborn. He led the Company of the Rose against the Boltons. He wasn't one to sit and wait.
"They both have more to do," Bran answered. "Robb must lead his people in the south. He will have difficulties doing such."
"Is the wight not enough of evidence?" Ned asked.
"Do not underestimate the stupidity of man." Bran lectured. "If he is unable to bring all realms under his banner, then darkness shall come over the realm. Whether that will be the shadow of death or revolt, I'm not sure."
"What about Jon?" Ned asked.
"He must accept who he is," Bran said simply. "If he does not, then all is lost."
"Jon knows who he is," Ned argued.
"Does he?" Bran asked. "Or does he know what others want him to be? Can a man be whole if he does not accept half of himself?"
Ned got up and was about to leave, having had his fill of his son and his words. But before he could leave, there was one last thing he wanted to say.
"Jon is a Stark."
"Jon showed such when he fought by Robb's side against four other kings," Bran said. "Now he must show that he is also a Targaryen."
Line Break
"You're troubled," Cat said as soon as Ned entered the room. As always, his wife was able to read him like an open book.
"I did not have a pleasant meeting with Bran." Ned sighed, pouring himself wine and taking his seat behind his desk. "But the truth these days rarely is."
"I have news that might be," Cat said helpfully, sitting across from Ned. "The northern lords are all preparing for battle, from Last Hearth to Greywater Watch."
"That is good to hear," Ned said, taking a sip of wine as he looked at one of the reports before him. "How many men can we muster?"
"Twelve thousand," Cat answered.
"More than what I predicted," Ned grunted. "How prepared are we for winter? Is there enough food for those who will be left behind when the fighting happens?"
"I have sent a raven to Highgarden and my brother Edmure," Cat said. "I hope that we can rely on our friends in the south to help our larders. I have also given all lords along the eastern and western coasts permission to build more fishing vessels."
Ned nodded. "That is good to hear."
Cat gave her husband a worried look. "What has Bran said?"
Ned shook his head. "What he said was the truth, I'm just too damn stubborn to accept it."
Cat stood up and walked around the desk. She wrapped her arms loosely around Ned's shoulders and kissed the top of his head before laying her head on his. Ned grabbed her nearest hand with his, holding it lovingly.
"I'm sorry that I left you for so long with all of this," Ned whispered.
"It's alright," Cat responded quietly. "You're home and that is all that matters."
The words "for now" hung in the air unsaid.
Howland Reed
Howland found Ned at the top of the Broken Tower. He was dressed in his nightshirt and breeches, and instead of looking out over the land beyond the walls of Winterfell, he was looking over the castle itself. The light of the moon shone in through the window behind him, illuminating the grim look on his face.
"Your wife can't be happy right now," Howland joked quietly.
A small smile overcame Ned's face as he recognized his old friend's voice. He looked towards the door where Howland was shrouded by the shadows and his dark green cloak. Even still, he was sure that Ned could see the sarcastic smile on his face.
"She's fast asleep," Ned replied. "The burden of ruling the North weighed heavily on her shoulders."
"She managed it well," Howland said, coming to stand beside his friend.
"I am sorry to hear about your son," Ned said sadly.
"Fate is a cruel thing," Howland sighed. "It was his time though, as said as it is. I'm proud that he faced his death with courage."
"His time?"
"He knew that he would die beyond the Wall," Howland explained. "Meera did as well. Both knew what awaited them as they traveled with Bran. Yet, neither shied away from it."
"You must be proud of them," Ned commented. "We should all count ourselves lucky if we have friends like the Reeds in our friends. The Old Gods know we need them."
"Ah, you would have just been fine on your own, Ned," Howland chuckled.
"Not at the Tower of Joy," Ned said, turning serious. "Were you here when Daenerys Targaryen arrived?"
Howland shook his head. He had heard of Jon and Daenerys's conversation and departure, but he had been away at Ironwood, speaking with Gregor Forrester about how many ironwood shields would be needed for the war effort. By the time he returned, Jon was gone.
"I was away," he answered. "She knows, doesn't she."
"Aye, she does," Ned said. "She tied my hands, Howland. I had no choice."
"She needs him to ride the other dragon, doesn't she."
"Both the Green Man and the Grand Maester said so," Ned grunted. "I very nearly turned her away as soon as she asked me to reveal Jon's identity."
"Yet you didn't," Howland noted. He had learned long ago that Ned would answer his own questions so long as Howland kept the conversation going.
"I couldn't refuse her. Her argument made sense and the advantage her creatures would give us in battle is better than what a hundred thousand men could give us." Ned said. "But…"
Ned shook his head, looking back out the window. Howland looked at his friend closely. He was still very much in the prime of his life, but he looked far older than his nearly forty years of age. Years of pain, sadness, anger, and happiness mixed on his face as his years crashed down on him. Here was a man who had fought in three wars, lost the majority of his family before he was even twenty, knelt by his sister's side as she passed away, and very nearly lost the rest of his family when he was imprisoned for wrongful treason by Cersei Lannister.
He had survived all that life had to throw at him, and while some would admire him for his steadfast nature and fortitude, Howland knew that he had experienced more pain and rage than most other men in his position.
"You feel like you let Lyanna down, don't you," Howland said quietly.
Ned nodded. "I promised her to keep him safe on her deathbed, Howland," he said softly. "If he dies because I let him go off with the Targaryen girl, I'll never forgive myself."
"Jon is his own man, Ned," Howland said. "He made his choice to go with her. You did what you thought was right and Jon did the same. Lyanna would be proud of all that you have done for her son."
"Then why am I so full of worry?"
"Because he's your son, Ned," Howland said. "You've raised him as your own. Your children see him as their brother. All parents worry. I had eyes on Meera and Jojen up until Ramsay Snow took a torch to Winterfell. When they vanished north, I wanted to ride out myself and find them, but I knew that they were set on their path and I had my own to walk."
Ned looked down at his friend and nodded slightly. "Aye, you're right."
"I know I am," Howland grunted. "Now go back to your wife before she notices your absent."
Ned smiled slightly and made his way out of the room, pausing briefly at the door.
"Will you be leaving for Greywater Watch?"
Howland shook his head. "My men will not be accompanying us north to the Wall. Once your son gives the order, they will begin to fortify the Neck."
"In case the Wall falls," Ned said with a nod. "You always have a backup plan."
"Not too late for you to have one yourself," Howland said innocently.
Ned got the message. "Aye, that's fair. Goodnight Howland."
"Goodnight Ned."