While Lancelot and the others were teasing the lions, a gruff voice called out from nearby.
"What a magnificent lion! Truly formidable!"
Everyone turned toward the sound and saw a man approaching. He wore a black cloak, a black wool tunic, and black high boots. He had a long face—a typical Stark feature.
Seeing him, Robb, Jon, and Arya all cried out happily, "Uncle Benjen!"
This was Eddard Stark's younger brother, Benjen Stark, now the First Ranger of the Night's Watch. He had returned to Winterfell from the Wall for various reasons.
Lancelot rushed up to him and grasped his hand.
It was the hand of a living man, warm, not cold.
"Good, good! Your uncle hasn't been taken by the White Walkers!" Lancelot said to Robb and the others.
Robb Stark bristled.
"Your uncle was taken by the White Walkers!"
Benjen Stark, however, ignored Lancelot's odd behavior. He looked at Lancelot with curiosity.
"Even far away at the Wall, I've heard rumors about you, Ser Lancelot! The young knight, the tourney champion, the adventurer who returned alive from the Ruins of Valyria. The White Lion Knight!"
"But what intrigues me most is what you said about White Walkers. Do even the southerners know about the dangerous things appearing beyond the Wall now?"
Benjen Stark had returned specifically to seek aid from his brother Eddard and King Robert.
The Night's Watch had been dwindling in numbers and quality for nearly a century. They could no longer guarantee they could stop the wildlings, let alone more terrifying threats.
"White Walkers? Don't the Maesters at the Citadel have records of their existence? Isn't it common knowledge?" Lancelot looked at him innocently.
"Ahem! Although recorded in history, too much time has passed. Most people have forgotten the terror of the White Walkers! But we Starks always remember: Winter is Coming," Benjen said.
---
Meanwhile, Jojen Reed led Brandon Stark to the Broken Tower. Many crows, black as night, were perched there.
They all looked at the two humans, seemingly begging for corn.
"Bran, now is the moment of your awakening!" Jojen Reed declared.
His green eyes fixed on a unique bird in the flock—a crow with a third eye in the center of its forehead.
The Three-Eyed Raven took flight. Guided, it seemed, by Jojen's Greensight, it swooped toward Brandon Stark.
But Bran was frightened. He fell backward, just a second before the Three-Eyed Raven's beak could peck his forehead.
"Caw! Caw! Caw!" The Three-Eyed Raven flapped its wings and flew away.
"A crow with three eyes tried to peck me! That was scary! Jojen, let's get out of here!" Without waiting for a response, Brandon Stark scrambled down the Broken Tower alone.
Jojen Reed watched his retreating back disappear around the corner of the stairs. He sighed.
"Is it really like this? I cannot change fate, but that person can. How did he do it?"
Jojen thought of Lancelot, riding his white lion.
---
Benjen Stark went to discuss urgent matters with Eddard Stark and King Robert.
Lancelot, Joffrey, Jon, and others started playing cards.
"There are fifty-four cards, and four of them are Targaryens, three are Lannisters, but only two are Starks! That's unfair!" Arya complained.
In her eyes, House Stark was the strongest family. They even had direwolves.
"Arya, you wouldn't want me to put Torrhen Stark on there, would you? He's the King Who Knelt!" Lancelot countered.
"He doesn't deserve it. But doesn't my father deserve it? He's the Warden of the North, Lord of Winterfell. He's not inferior to Tywin!"
In terms of status and noble rank, Eddard Stark was indeed Tywin's equal, but in terms of influence, he fell short.
"You have a point. Perhaps we should update the characters!" Lancelot mused.
He thought for a moment, removed Cregan Stark, and replaced him with Bloodraven.
"Ah! You just added another Targaryen and removed a Stark?" Arya glared at Lancelot again.
"Cregan Stark's contributions and influence pale in comparison to Bloodraven's," Lancelot explained.
Just as they were arguing over who to swap in and out, Maester Luwin arrived.
"Robb, it's time for your lessons... Eh? What are you all doing?"
Maester Luwin was a short man wearing grey robes—the standard attire of a maester, just as black was for the Night's Watch and white for the Kingsguard.
After Lancelot explained the game to him, Luwin found poker to be quite an interesting concept.
"I suggest, Ser Lancelot, that you include different professions on the cards."
"Knights, Maesters, Septons, Lords."
"It would make more people willing to play this game."
"Among Maesters, there is Lomas Longstrider, who wrote Wonders Made by Man and Wonders. There is Archmaester Gyldayn, Grand Maester Pycelle, Maester Aemon at the Wall, Marwyn the Mage in Oldtown... all highly respected men with profound knowledge," Maester Luwin suggested.
"Perhaps you're right," Lancelot said.
"Currently, the four suits each have nine numbered cards without representative figures. If we select nine people for Maesters, Knights, Septons, and Lords respectively... that might be best."
"But that requires too much research. Maester Luwin, would you be willing to help me with the references?" Lancelot asked.
"It would be my pleasure!" Maester Luwin replied.
---
Benjen found his brother Eddard and King Robert. The three discussed the Wall at length—the wildlings, and the more terrifying things beyond.
"Not long ago, Ser Waymar Royce went missing. He is the son of Bronze Yohn Royce, Lord of Runestone in the Vale. We owe him an answer," Benjen said.
"I know of this. A month ago, I personally beheaded a deserter from the Night's Watch with Ice. He claimed to have seen White Walkers. He was traveling with Waymar Royce and another ranger. Benjen, what is happening beyond the Wall?" Eddard Stark asked.
"The wildlings are moving on a massive scale, and their territory is creeping closer to the Wall. We need help!" Benjen urged.
"Alright, alright, the Wall isn't going to collapse. The furthest wildlings have ever gotten in history is the Wolfswood and the Long Lake. We don't need the entire Seven Kingdoms to deal with them! I came to you, Ned, for something far more important," King Robert interrupted.
"I am naming you Hand of the King. Furthermore, I want to join our houses. My eldest son, Joffrey, and your eldest daughter, Sansa. An alliance between our two families will make the realm more secure," King Robert declared.
Eddard Stark wanted to refuse. The South was no place for a Stark.
His father and brother had gone south and never returned, dying in King's Landing. His sister Lyanna had died even further south, in Dorne.
But Eddard also knew he couldn't refuse. Robert was his brother in all but blood. The King had traveled thousands of miles to see him; sending him back empty-handed was not something a subject could do.
He offers you honor and glory, yet you refuse his goodwill! Eddard Stark couldn't refuse; he could only agree to Robert's request.
"I am at your command, Your Grace!" Eddard Stark knelt on one knee.
"Good brother! Hahaha! We won the realm together, and we must rule it together. From now on, the heir to the Iron Throne will carry the blood of both House Baratheon and House Stark."