Chapter 12
EDDARD STARK
The world was changing, and Eddard Stark could sense it in the air. It was the same sensation that had overtaken the winds when the rebellion had come, and the ominous signs were there as well.
Jon Arryn was dead. A Prince had been attacked. A traitor had been found. There were whispers of Undead Monsters in the North. Direwolves, once thought long gone from the world, roamed through the Halls of Winterfell once more.
Change was upon them, and Eddard prayed that he could lead his family through these tumultuous times safely. Here in the North, the Stark name commanded respect, power, and loyalty.
The Northern Houses may not be rich, but they were old and loyal. Few would dare to defy their liege lord here, and yet soon enough, he would be forced to leave these lands and head up South, just as his father and brother once had.
Yet he would be riding for a different purpose and for a different King.
The very King who was just about to reach his castle. And Winterfell had been preparing for a Royal Visit for some time, yet the bustle had slowly begun to die down as they realised that the plans had been modified in the wake of the attack on Prince Steffon.
Initially, they were preparing to host the entire Royal family, along with their entire retinue. The whole affair was coming out to be a rather significant drain on their coffers, but then the attack had happened, and it was decided that the Royal Family would not be riding with the King.
So, now Robert rode alone, along with some fifty men, as he came to Winterfell to offer him an honor he did not desire. Robert's intentions were obvious, and many had begun to question his competence after the whole debacle with Baelish.
Many questioned Jon Arryn as well, for it had been him who had brought the Master of Coin to Court, and now the entire realm had been beggared by his schemes.
Eddard himself wondered just what had led Jon to appoint such a man to his council. He had known Jon to be an exemplary Lord and a just man. Yet he had failed both Robert and the realm.
And Robert wanted him to do right by the realm. But could he really do it? Could he really serve the realm, and protect his family at the same time from the pit of vipers that was Kingslanding?
The question had plagued his sleep for days, and even now, he had no answer as he sat under the Heart Tree, hoping for an answer. He looked at the face carved into the tree and wondered once more if the Gods were truly listening to his plight.
"I have sat here for hours, and you have offered me nothing but silence," and the white cover of the snow lay across all of the field.
"If you are listening, help me," and so he closed his eyes, hoping, praying for a sign, and yet none came except the voice of his lady wife.
"Ned. Ned," she called out his name, as he felt her hand on his shoulders, and sighed in defeat as he opened his eyes and found himself staring at that all too familiar face.
The years had not dulled the luster of her red hair, though he could spot a strain or two of silver in it now. Their marriage was one of duty, yet the years had been kind to it as affection blossomed between them, as she gave him five children.
"The men spotted Robert entering the town. He will be at Winterfell soon," and there was a hint of nervousness to her tone, as her eyes lingered on his face for a moment.
"You should turn him down," she pleaded as she had many a time before. Pleaded just as he had done to his Gods just now. But just as the Gods had disappointed him with their silence, he could only disappoint him.
"He needs me," and Robert knew that better than most. It was why he had ridden all this way to the North, all by himself.
"We need you. The North needs you," Cal pleaded, and they did.
"He is the King, and one can hardly deny a King," and he had no desire for such honors. But Eddard was a man of duty, he always had been. So, if the call came, he would answer.
"He is also your friend," and he was once.
"He rode all this way for a friend. Not a servant," and she was wrong.
"He rode all this way for a Hand," and now he pushed himself up from.
"He will not leave without one," and so he would ride with him and do his duty. Catelyn realised that her efforts were futile and that no words could convince him to forego his duty.
So, she made a different plea as they slowly walked out of the Godswood and began to head towards the yard where the entire household was gathering to welcome Robert.
"Then leave the children behind. Let them stay here, with me," and he could only deny her again.
"Sansa is a grown girl, and Arys is not too young either," and while the Starks were a great House, the Gods had given him five children to settle down. Sansa was almost a woman grown, and Robb was ready for marriage, too.
"Being at Court would serve them well. You need to be there to guide them and help them," and she knew that he was right. It was time for him to look for suitable marriages, and he had hoped to have Sansa marry into the North, but if his guess was right, Robert was not just coming here for a Hand.
No. He was coming here for a future Queen as well.
Would he be able to deny him? Or better yet, would he be able to deny his daughter her happiness?
While Arya was young and wild, Sansa had inherited her mother's beauty and a great love for Southern tales. She was a sweet girl who had yet to learn about the cruelties of the world, and he could only pray that she might never have to face those cruel truths.
"I know, but you saw the letter," and he perked up at the mention of that, and Catelyn was quick to realise her mistake as well, as they stopped at once.
"You remember my words, don't you!" and his tone was one of warning and rage as Cat's face turned red in embarrassment.
"Never mention that letter ever!" he reminded her, but she was not convinced.
"But what if it is true. What if..." and Ned quietened her with a sharp retort.
"Enough!" and thankfully they were alone enough for him to speak of that accursed thing.
It had come out of the blue. Left infront of their chambers doors by some unknown hand. The message written on it held no name, nor did the letter have any seal, but Catelyn remained certain that it had come from her sister.
Lysa, the wife of Jon Arryn, had accused the Lannisters of murdering her husband and then plotting against Petyr to cover up the secret. She called the attack on Prince Steffon a ploy to get rid of Baelish, who had now been confirmed to be bound for Essos.
The words themselves were nothing short of treason, and the lack of any seal or name put the veracity of the thing into question.
"If my sister is right, you would be walking into a lion's den. Robert Baratheon may sit on the throne, but Lannister gold runs the capital," and that was no lie. Allegedly, Baelish had robbed the Crown, and the throne owed a great deal of money to both the Lannisters and the Iron Bank.
"Do you not find it strange that he appointed one of the Queen's brothers to the office of the Master of Coin," and he could think of a dozen reasons, but none that should be said in the open.
"One of them is the Kingsguard, while the other now controls the Crown's coffers," Catelyn dissuaded, and yet he held no sympathy for the Lannisters. But there was a fatal flaw in her argument.
"Why would the Lannisters ever betray the Crown?" he admonished, as he pushed away all these troubling thoughts out of his head.
"After Robert, his son will sit on the Iron Throne. A son who carries Lannister blood," and Catelyn had no answer for his question.
"I don't know. But you remember what the missive said," and he had warned her not to mention that again.
"A secret," he whispered, and yet what secret would drive the Lannisters to kill Jon Arryn and then accuse one of his men of treason.
"Yes," Catelyn began in desperation.
"Lysa is my sister. She was Lord Arryn's wife, and she fled the capital in the night because she feared for her life. Do you not find the whole thing suspicious?" and he did, but the Crown already had a traitor.
Still, the entire affair had muddied Jon's name and reputation, so if he were to find out and reveal the truth, he would be able to clear his name.
Did he not owe this to Jon?
"I will look into it," and immediately, he saw her eyes light up.
"But, promise me that you will make no mention of it to anyone else. This must stay between us," and Catelyn nodded, as they headed to the yard, and by now the King's retinue could be seen with the naked eye.
All of the Household lined up to welcome their King, and Robert glanced to his side and saw his children lined up,
Rob stood first, with his red hair and green eyes. But his face was all Stark. His son was a man grown and would be the lord of the castle in his absence. After him stood Sansa, and then Bran, Arya, and lastly Rickon.
Yet these were not his only children, and his eyes glanced back, and there he stood. Back with the crowd, beside Ser Rodrick. The son entrusted to him. Jon, and unlike Robb, he was all Stark, in his hair and eyes.
For a second, he wondered if he should call him to the front, and yet Catelyn saw his gaze lingering on his bastard, and her mood soured in an instant.
So, he put away that thought as Robert's retinue walked through the gates of Winterfell, and the King had ridden hard and fast, as the entirety of Winterfell followed him and bent their knee.
Robert jumped off the horse and walked straight towards him.
"Winterfell is yours, my King," Eddard repeated, yet just as he had finished, Robert's voice boomed through the clearing.
"Stand up, you fool," and Eddard rose, not missing the chuckle from his side as Robert wrapped his arms around him. And the King smelt of dirt, and game as Eddard tried to wrap his own arms around his friend, an act which was made impossible by Robert's newfound girth.
"I have never felt alive in so long," and now he was staring at him, and much like him, Robert had gotten old as well. His face had gotten bigger, yet his hair had quite a few strands of grey and white in it.
"Where have you been all this time?" Robert questioned, and Eddard raised a brow.
"Guarding the North for you," and the answer did not amuse him, as he slapped his shoulder.
"You should have been at the Capitol, besides me," he slapped, and it felt good to see the kingship had not rid him of their friendship.
"Cat," Robert moved past him and hugged Catelyn like a long-lost sister before he moved on to the rest of his children. The King had come with some fifty guards and fifty other people to care for him. A small retinue compared to the hundreds that would have come if the Royal family had joined him.
Still, he spotted a familiar face within the retinue, and he was not the only one.
"It's him. It's Ser Barristan," he heard a few whispers and murmurs as Bran's eyes went wide.
"You have grown old, Lord Stark," he said, and the one beside offered him only a polite nod.
"I can say the same to you," and the fabled knight smiled.
"Aye, that I have. Years ago, I could ride for days without tiring, but now, with the years riding hard like this has begun to take a toll on me," and Robert had ridden so hard that he had nearly cut the time to reach Winterfell by an entire quarter.
"Take me to the crypts," Robert ordered, and the aged knight gave him a nod as he chased after Robert, while realising that perhaps it was a good thing that the Queen was not here.
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