[Chapter Size: 3200 Words.]
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Third Person POV
Winterfell, 298 AC.
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While things stirred in Arctic, with the shadow of war increasingly looming over the kingdom — the first and hopeful, the last, line of humanity's defense against the dead — they prepared for the confrontation. The South soon began to hear about the events in Winterfell.
Meanwhile, not only did the southern part of the Northern kingdom seem to be growing stunned, but recent events also appeared to have shaken the Stark family itself over the past few days.
"Well, with that, i wish you a great journey to the South, Your Majesty..." said Lord Stark, with the man before him gazing back with a slightly weary look and even a glimmer of betrayal in his eyes toward him.
"I thank you for your words, but I no longer like being here, Lord Stark," said the king, while Lord Stark felt a very bitter feeling upon hearing that. There were no longer friendly words exchanged between them; the light in the king's eyes was as if Lord Stark had stabbed him in the back. The king even seemed to be fighting against that feeling of betrayal, anger, and hatred for the man he once called brother.
Ned Stark recognized this, but there was nothing he could do about it. Things had already happened as they did since his arrival. His refusals — both to the position of Hand and to a marriage between their children — with the king believing that Joffrey was truly his son, had not yet been the last straw. But acknowledging that his old friend would stand with his nephew, Jon Arctic — even if not spoken directly — seemed to frustrate Robert.
"If the next time we meet is on the battlefield, Lord Stark, I will show you no mercy," said the king, his gaze now more wounded.
"I hope that day never comes, Robert. I sincerely pray to the gods that we never have such a meeting," Ned said in the end.
Robert stared at him for a while and nodded.
"Until we meet again, Lord Stark, whether at the other's funeral or on the battlefield..." he emphasized, a hint of anger returning to his tone before turning and heading toward his horse.
Several wagons were lined up toward the gate, waiting only for the king to depart so that everyone else could leave. The maesters to tend to the queen and her brother had finally arrived, and they could now head south. Several men and southern houses who had come to the North during this time were ready to depart, ever since Arya had left Winterfell.
Stark turned to his children, who stood behind him — as did the king's entourage — watching Robert mount his horse with some difficulty and begin to prepare.
"To the South! To King's Landing!" he shouted, quickly riding ahead.
Both the men began to follow him, and the wagons started to move, all leaving the castle of the North.
"Father, we're in a bad situation, aren't we?" Robb approached with a cautious look.
"We are, in a way, my son. I won't lie. We've reached an impasse that cannot be resolved with words," said Lord Stark at last, as he watched the final members of the entourage begin to leave through the gate, raising the Lannister and Baratheon banners.
"Ned, whatever happens, we'll stand with you. The North is with you!" came the voice of Jon Umber from the side, as the giant, lord of Last Hearth, approached Ned.
Some northern lords had been coming to Winterfell even before the king's arrival, and others had arrived in recent days. There were several of them there, and most would support Lord Stark.
"I know, Lord Umber," said Ned to the large man. At least he had the loyalty of the North with him.
There was no need to even mention the scandal that all of this had become. The queen had been attacked by an eagle, allegedly through magic from her own daughter, after Arya was ambushed and accused the queen of commanding the act.
Then, the Arcticans entered their lands, issued threats to the royal family itself upon entering Winterfell, and cut off the sword hand of Jaime Lannister, the queen's brother.
A war declared against Arctic had been set in motion at that moment — no, ever since the queen had tried to ambush Arya — and with Ned turning his back on Robert, it was obvious to the other kingdoms that the North had declared itself in favor of the nephew — the one who ruled a kingdom beyond the Wall, feared by the entire world at that moment.
The tension, as the news spread, was surely building in all the realms beyond the North, from the Neck to Dorne. The South would have one side, and the North — and the kingdom beyond the Wall — would have the other.
After hearing Lord Umber's words, Lord Stark approached another lord among the group watching the king's departure.
"Howland, could you accompany me to my solar? I'd like to have a talk…" he asked the man who had arrived in Winterfell a few days earlier with his family, coming to the castle after his daughter had sent that letter.
Certainly, a conversation between the two was a welcome distraction for both — old companions who no longer had secrets to hide from one another, especially about Jon, the son of Ned's sister — and who could speak freely, as long as no other ears were near. Usually, such talks took place in the godswood.
"Of course, Ned, we can go," said Howland, as Stark turned again to his children lined up.
Cassandra was also there, holding Rickon, while Sansa wept, drying her eyes with a handkerchief. She looked at her father with a hint of anger and disgust before turning and walking back into the castle without saying a word, her wolf following behind her.
Lord Stark only sighed.
The only one missing among his five children was Bran. And Arya — Arya had already left the castle to return to Arctic, and for terrible reasons, even before the arrival of Howland and his children, and Bran, because of a dreadful situation that had left him bedridden.
Lord Stark's gaze turned to the Tully household, which still remained in Winterfell and had not departed with the king. At least Brynden Tully was there, along with some nobles from the Riverlands. Catelyn was likely with Bran.
"Robb, I'm going upstairs to speak with Howland. You finish organizing the castle for the other northern lords, and if any noble intends to leave Winterfell, let me know. I imagine your mother is with your brother?" said Ned, turning again to his son.
"Yes, father, she's there. And don't worry, I'll take care of everything," said Robb, confidently, though the sadness in his eyes was clear.
Robb had grown quite a lot, and Ned couldn't be prouder of the change his son had shown after his terrible mistakes.
He stepped away, and the lingering influence of Jon still echoed within him — or so he thought. A mistake that Ned would remember until his grave, or even beyond it, as he was certain his sister, in the afterlife, would never let him rest in peace after what he had allowed to happen in his house and all the harm that had befallen her son.
At least Robb was beginning to show more of the North's influence in him, and despite the shame he had had to endure publicly for causing so much harm to his brother and the possible complications with Arctic, the northern lords had begun to accept him again. Ned only hoped that he and Jon could somehow rebuild their relationship. Even with all of Robb's mistakes, there was no doubt — his son had grown and was becoming an honorable man.
"Cassandra, stay with Rickon. I'll be talking with Howland in my solar. If you need anything, please let me know," he said, while Cassandra remained clutching Rickon.
"Can we see Bran?" asked Rickon, his voice tearful.
Cassandra, though she trembled slightly, nodded, knowing very well who was with Rickon's brother in that room.
Lord Stark entered the solar, and the first thing he did was reach for one of the wines on the shelf. He had not drunk as much in years as he had in that moon, ever since the king's visit — one problem after another had come his way.
He looked at Howland, raising an eyebrow as the man's gaze fell on the bottle in Lord Stark's hand.
"What is it? I'm practically walking into a war against the man I considered a brother for most of my life. I know the Lannisters won't stand idly by after what happened to the queen and her brother. I just want to relax a bit, enjoy what little peace we have left… now that I can finally breathe with the king's departure…" said Lord Stark in a weary tone.
Howland did not judge him or say a word, merely nodded. Stark drank and even offered some to Howland himself, who cautiously accepted. If his friend was drinking, things were truly serious.
"Tell me, Howland, what should I do? I'm having the same feeling I had when it happened to us less than twenty years ago, when I received the news of my father and brother's deaths at the hands of the Mad King... having to rise for war back then," said Lord Stark cautiously.
"It can't be easy. But it's not as if you're alone, Lord Stark. Not in the future, at least," said Howland.
"You think Jon will interfere?" he asked.
"As far as I know, Jon is fighting a war at this very moment. But that doesn't mean he won't win — and soon he'll be looking south. He is her son. From what you've told me about your conversations with him, he won't abandon House Stark, even after everything that's happened in this castle. Even when you could have placed him under my supervision..." said Howland, as Ned turned his cup before tapping it against the wood of the table and looking at him.
"That's true... I regret many things. And he has every right to be angry. I wouldn't judge him, not even if he never spoke to me again. But I'm grateful that at least he still talks to me after everything..." said Ned.
"I don't know much about his father, but I knew his mother very well. Perhaps not as well as you did, but I know she would never abandon her family. She'd get angry if she were in his place, she'd try to kick you, but she would always try to protect you at the end of the day," said Howland, and Ned nodded.
"You're right. Lyanna was always brave enough to fight for what's right — but more than that, to fight for her family. I miss her... I miss Brandon... and my father. Now here I am, while my brother, my daughter, and my nephew are beyond the Wall, fighting those creatures, wherever they may be. It's frustrating not to be with them..."
"And you're here, guarding the North for him," said Howland Moreau, while Lord Stark huffed and looked out the window.
"I wouldn't doubt that people across the Seven Kingdoms will start saying that Lord Stark bent the knee to Arctic and that now the North serves the king beyond the Wall. They might even start calling it the Six Kingdoms and the Kingdom of the Wildlings, since there's so much prejudice against Arctic — calling it that because of the propaganda spreading across the Seven Kingdoms against them right now. And now the North would be part of it too. Wouldn't that be more fitting?" Ned said with a laugh.
Howland served himself and drank his cup as well.
"Do you think my son will wake up?" Lord Stark couldn't help but ask, turning his attention back to his old friend, while Howland looked at him seriously.
"He will wake, Lord Stark. It's a shame we didn't arrive before the fall — we might have prevented it. But there's no use lamenting the possibilities that can no longer be," said Howland at last.
"Bran is just a boy… how could he have fallen like that? He'll be devastated when he learns he's lost the use of his legs… He'd been saying these past few days that he was going to Arctic to become a warrior, a royal guard — that Jon had invited him…" said Lord Stark, filled with great sorrow.
"I know it can't be easy… but why don't you look to the North more closely? You might see things better than sorrow…" said Howland with a tone of mystery.
"What do you mean by that?" asked Ned, frowning and raising his gaze.
"When Lyanna's son visited my home, he offered to help me. He said I could have movement in my legs again, that I wouldn't need to walk with a cane anymore. But I'd have to go to his kingdom, to undergo some kind of surgery, as he described it… according to him, he would cut me open to rebuild my muscles," said Howland, making Lord Stark look surprised. Jon had never mentioned such abilities, nor had Howland spoken of it when Lord Stark had visited him at Greywater Watch, the seat of House Reed.
Howland continued. "If he can do that, why couldn't he help Bran? I'm certain Jon can help him. He's a boy who's been surprising everyone since his eighth day of name — you know that very well…" finished Lord Reed, as Lord Stark nodded, a glimmer of hope returning to his eyes, and drank more deeply from his cup.
'If Jon could help…' he murmured inwardly.
At the same time, as the conversation between Lord Stark and Lord Reed continued in the solar of Winterfell, Cassandra led Rickon to a chamber with a large bed, where a woman sat beside an unconscious boy lying upon it.
As they entered, the woman turned her face to see Rickon in Cassandra's arms.
The look of hatred she cast at her made Cassandra swallow hard. It was obvious that Catelyn knew about the growing relationship between Cassandra and Lord Stark. Cassandra had even noticed some servants following and watching her — especially when she left the lord of Winterfell's chambers. The problem was that these weren't even her usual servants, but those who had come with the Tully retinue, loyal to Catelyn — and, at that moment, they watched her intently.
"My lady, Rickon asked to see his brother," said Cassandra cautiously.
Lady Stark looked at her son, who gazed back at her with a hint of apprehension, certainly feeling her stare upon Cassandra as well. That made Catelyn soften her eyes; despite her anger, she didn't want her son to see her that way. She simply nodded her head, without uttering a single word.
Cassandra then went to the bed, carrying Rickon, and set him beside his brother. The little boy sat on the bed and looked at Bran, still unconscious.
"Will he wake up soon?" asked Rickon, resting his head on the pillow beside his brother's. The question, however, wasn't directed to Catelyn, his mother, but to Cassandra.
Catelyn could not have felt more hatred at that moment toward the mistress of Rickon's father and her former husband.
"Of course he will, little one," Cassandra said, trying to cheer him up. "The maester said he's not in danger and will wake up soon," she replied softly, while Catelyn thought that she should be the one comforting her son — not a stranger trying to take her place.
"Then he's going to be fine!" said Rickon, more excited. "Bran said he's already seen the future... he said he's going to marry Meera and have a son named Robb!" Rickon said eagerly. "He also told me not to say anything to Meera about it..." the boy added quickly, with a mix of shyness.
"That sounds wonderful, little Rickon," said Cassandra, smiling.
For Catelyn, it was pure torture — she couldn't bear another second of that conversation between Ned's mistress and her youngest son.
"Could you leave my son with me and let us be alone?" she said suddenly, her eyes fixed directly on Cassandra.
Cassandra stared back for a moment, while Rickon looked between the two women, a little worried by his mother's tone. Still, Cassandra yielded — after all, who was she to contest something between a mother and her children?
"I understand, my lady. I'll leave you with your two sons," said Cassandra, while Rickon seemed uneasy about the decision.
"Wait, Mother, I want Cassandra to stay!" he protested.
"No, Rickon. I want you to stay with me and your brother alone — he needs us. There's no room here for someone who isn't family," said Catelyn coldly.
Cassandra only nodded, though she cared deeply for little Rickon. She knew well the hatred and jealousy Lady Stark harbored toward her.
Rickon didn't even manage another protest as his mother pulled him into her lap and sat beside Bran.
"Now, let's just stay with your brother," she said, while Cassandra began to leave the room in silence.
"Cassandra."
Cassandra heard her name once more and, turning around, saw Catelyn staring at her.
"Don't call me 'my lady.' Call me Lady Stark, understood?" she said.
Cassandra was silent for a few seconds before nodding. "Of course, Lady Stark," she replied, beginning to leave. But Lady Stark wasn't finished yet.
"One more thing. You were supposed to look after the education of my children while I wasn't here — that includes Bran. But you failed by letting him climb around as he pleased. Otherwise, the tragedy wouldn't have happened four days ago. I blame you for it. You were supposed to take care of my children, and you failed. So you have no right to be here. I'll do everything to make sure you never come near them again," she said, her voice full of rage.
"Lady Stark, you can't..." Cassandra tried to say, but was interrupted.
"I said leave us! I don't want to hear your excuse. Now get out of here!" shouted Lady Stark, still consumed by fury, while Cassandra left the room, glancing at Rickon with a hint of sadness — after all, he had shrunk into himself.
Rickon began to cry, and Lady Stark pulled him into her arms.
"Calm down, my son. It's all right now..." she said, trying to soothe him.
"Why do you blame Cassandra for what happened to Bran?" he asked, his tone filled with indignation.
That made Lady Stark even angrier. Even her own children seemed to be against her.
"It is her fault! If she had been watching Bran properly, he wouldn't have kept climbing the walls. I would never have let that happen to your brother!" she replied, while Rickon kept crying.
It had been a tragic event, four days ago. They had found Bran fallen from the tower, his body broken and sprawled across the ground, while his wolf howled desperately, drawing everyone's attention.
They carried the fallen boy back inside the castle, and Maester Luwin examined him. Everyone was shocked — though, thankfully, he was alive, his back was severely injured, and it was possible he would never walk again.
The news had shaken all of Winterfell, while their guests still waited for the maesters to finish tending to both the queen and her brother before departing for the South — which happened two days later.
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