Clunk.

The arrow Bran shot missed its target once more, hitting the barrel instead. Bran stomps his foot in frustration. Jon, his bastard brother, brings himself down to Bran's height, putting his arm around his shoulders. He faces the other way, up to the upper walkway, where their father, Lord Eddard Stark and Bran's mother, Lady Catelyn Stark are watching.]

"Go on. Father's watching. And your mother." Jon encouarged him, letting go of his shoulder and returning to his normal height. Jon stepped back against the wall, giving Bran more room to aim. Behind him, was his younger brother by about half a year, Ashter Stark. Ashter was amused at his brother missing shot after shot but still was eager to see him hit his target. Jon quickly glanced to Ashter with a shy grin. The two brothers were leaning against the wall while Robb stood next to Bran, his arms folded. Bran, still looking up at his Father, who gives him an encouraging nod. Bran nods back to him, and prepares to fire yet another arrow.

Pff.

The next arrow completely missed the target, flying out and over the Winterfell courtyard. Bran's three older brothers and his sole younger brother, Rickon all burst out in laughter.

"And which one of you was a marksman at ten?" Ned called out from the walkway. Ashter chuckled, raising his hand up. Ned knew that was true, but didn't say anything to encourage the foolish boy.

"Keep practicing, Bran. Go on." Ned insisted.

Jon stepped forward to give Bran some more advice, easing back on the teasing.

"Don't think too much, Bran." Jon offered.

"Relax your bow arm." The oldest Stark son said, watching Bran's arm slightly shake. Bran listens to his brothers' advice, preparing to fire the arrow. An arrow from behind hits the direct center of the target. Bran quickly looks back in surprise. Robb, Jon and Ashter all turn around in bewilderment and see Arya setting down her bow, and bowing in front of her audience. Bran drops the bow as the brothers all develop grins and laugh as Bran sprints after his little sister.

"Quick, Bran, faster!" Jon laughed.

Ashter sighed, getting on his horse once again to witness his Father execute some deserter from the Night's Watch. Ashter never understood why the Night's Watch was so highly-regarded. He was well aware that a great number of thieves and rapists were apart of it. Only proud fools like his Uncle Benjen were the people who went there willingly. Ashter scratched his horse's ears, whom he named Jo and prepared the horse for the ride. He rode alongside his brother, Jon Snow. He was closer to the bastard brother than any of his other siblings. Ashter supposed it was because they were both outcasts, or at least, that's how Ashter saw himself.

Outside of Winterfell, several Stark bannermen gathered around and pushed the Night's Watch deserter forward to the center of the field. The deserter muttered under his breath, but Ashter did not care what he was mumbling about. He just wanted to head back to the castle and find that woman he'd taken an interest in yesterday. His father didn't approve of his lustful behavior, but then again, his Father didn't approve much of what Ashter did every day. Ned had complained about his behavior to damn near everyone important in the Council, continuously disappointed that his second true-born son didn't know how to act like a honorable man. Ashter gave up on trying to be that man quite a while ago.

Bran had never been out to witness something like this before. Ashter had seen maybe, three deserters get executed by his Father in the last couple of years. He didn't understand why his Father always had to be the man who swung the sword, but he didn't bother to ask. Ashter patted his younger brother on the shoulder, comforting him more of the fact that he has to watch more than one of these rather than the violent experience of a man being decapitated. Ashter watched as the deserter's head left his body, he saw his brother twitch. Ashter gave him another pat on the shoulder, then turned around - heading back to his horse.

On the way back to Winterfell, they came across a dead stag in the Wolfswood. The stag's side and belly had been ripped open, with its entrails torn out and part of one of its antlers had been ripped off. Ashter took one single look at the entrails and almost felt like puking. He had seen several people get decapitated and killed in several ways, but something about a stag's entrails leaking out of its body was something he never wanted to see on a regula basis. Ned dismounted from his horse, approaching the dead stag to inspect it. Jon, Theon Greyjoy - the ward or personal slave as Ashter liked to call him from time to time followed Ned as did Ashter himself.

"What is it?" Jon asked, poking his head up from behind.

"Mountain lion?" Ashter guessed, unsure of what else would be able to tear through that stag's body.

"There are no mountain lions in these woods." Ned dismissed, looking over the gorey scene. He warily pulled out his Valyrian steel sword, Ice and searches the area. All of them follow him. They continue on for a bit until they discover the corpse of a dead direwolf, the remaining part of the stag's antler through its throat. Crowding around the corpse are several direwolf pups. Ned kneels down to look over the direwolf corpse, Jon does the same. Several of the others, including Robb, Ashter, and Jory Cassel, all look somewhat unnerved.

"It's a freak!" Theon blurted out.

"Well, then, the two of you will get along just fine, then." Ashter joked, which earned him a glare from Theon. Ned looked over the corpse.

"It's a direwolf." He noted. "Tough old beast."

Ned yanked out the part of the antler, Robb grimaced at the action.

"There are no direwolves south of the Wall..." Robb stated what clearly wasn't the case. Jon crouched down, picking up one of the direwolf pups.

"Now there are six." Jon said as he walked over to Bran, "Would you like to hold it?"

Bran held it in his arms, rubbing behind its ears.

"Where will they go? Their mother's dead." Bran asked.

"They don't belong down here." Ser Rodrik Cassel said to the boy. Ned rose to his feet, looking back to his family.

"Better a quick death, they won't last without their mother."

Theon pulled out his blade, motioning his hand towards Bran, "Right. Give it here."

"No!" Bran yelled out, backing up to avoid Theon.

"Put away your blade!" Robb ordered.

"I take orders from your Father, not you." Theon retorted. Ashter walked up, getting right in front of Theon's face.

"Put away the blade. Now." Ashter commanded, which did nothing. Theon was deadset on carrying out Ned's orders. Ashter did this quite often, he would very easily antagonize Theon due to his hatred of him, Theon wasn't necessarily liked due to the house he belonged to, but no one in his life was more harsh to him than Ashter was.

"Are you deaf? Your father said to give them a quick death." Theon asked, still holding the knife.

"Enough, Ashter!" Ned commanded, facing the two teenagers. Ashter backed off, sighing in annoyance. Theon grabbed the pup, knife still in hand. Jon stares intently at the other pups.

"Please, Father!" Bran pleaded. Ned looked back, regretfully.

"I'm sorry, Bran." Ned apologized. Ashter stepped forward again.

"Why don't we let them roam free Beyond the Wall? It's where they belong. They could survive there, couldn't they?" Ashter suggested. Theon scoffed.

"Deliver a pack of direwolves that won't survive? Will you do it yourself?" Theon asked him.

"You are the ward, are you not, Greyjoy? You'd be perfect for the task." Ashter once again, got in Theon's face. Robb shook his head, annoyed by the constant arguments between the two of them.

"I said, that's enough!" Ned growled towards his son and his ward.

"Lord Stark?" Jon called out, Ned's eyes glanced over to Jon who was still looking over the direwolf pups.

"There are six pups. One for each of the Stark children. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. They were meant to have them." Jon said to his Father, Ned contemplated his suggestion for a few moments and then begrudginly accepted.

"You will train them yourselves. You will feed them yourselves. And if they die, you will bury them yourselves." Ned turned around and walked away, leaving the children to retrieve their new pets. Theon put away his knife as Ashter gave another threatening glance towards him and turned away, joining his brothers who turned their attention towards the direwolves.

"What about you?" Bran asked as Jon stood there without a pup. Ashter walked over to see a pup laying by its own, Ashter chuckled, picking it up and looking at the tiny creature.

"Look at you..." Ashter laughed at the direwolf. He found it adorable. He looked over to Jon who replied to Bran, "I'm not a Stark. Get on." Bran goes over to his horse while Ashter walks up to Jon, holding the runt of the litter - a pure white direwolf. He handed the pup to Jon.

"He's as white as a snow bears' arse, I think the two of you would be a good match." Ashter smiled, patting Jon on the shoulder.

"Are you sure?" Jon asked. Ashter stared at him blankly, then he winked at him and pats him on the shoulder as he returned to his horse to mount up. Jon acts honored and surprised to have received the direwolf.

"The runt of the litter? That's fitting for you, Snow." Theon giggled and turned away.

In the castle, the eldest Stark boys, along with Jon Snow and Theon are getting shaved, preparing for the king's royal arrival.

"Why's your Mother so dead set on us getting pretty for the King?" Jon asked his two brothers. Ashter shrugged, while Robb is getting his beard shaved by Tommy, the Winterfell barber.

"It's for the Queen, I bet, I hear she's sleek as a mink." Theon added. Ashter clicked his tongue, "I've heard her hair is blonder than any other Lannister before her."

"They do say Cersei Lannister is the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms." Robb told his younger brother, who always judged a woman based on her appearance before anything else.

"They say that about every single Queen in history. Though, I suppose there's no way she would've become Queen if she wasn't beautiful." Ashter sighed, "I can't wait to see her royal ass shake when she walks."

The men all laughed.

"I hear the prince is a right royal prick." Robb changed the subject.

"We're talking about the Queen's ass, not her fucking son." Ashter retorted, clearly still thinking about Cersei Lannister.

"No, YOU were talking about the Queen's ass." Robb corrected, laughing. Ashter chuckled, nodding his head, "Fair enough."

"Think of all those Southern girls he gets to stab with his right royal prick." Theon added.

"More than you, at least." Ashter said to him.

"And you." Theon replied.

"Are you sure about that, Greyjoy?" Ashter asked him. Robb stands up, he then pats Jon on the back and pushes him towards the chair.

"Go on, Tommy, shave him good. He's never met a girl he likes better than his own hair!" Robb joked as the others laughed. Jon was less than thrilled to part ways with his hair.

Robb looked around, confused to see that Ashter wasn't present. He was rather looking forward to whispering back and forth and making comments about the southerners with him. Robb was front and center, preparing himself to be witnessed by the King. He watched as Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer dismounted from his horse, taking off his helmet and looking around the courtyard.

"That's Jaime Lannister." Robb heard his sister Arya whisper harshly. Robb looked around, worried for his brother simply because of the trouble that he was going to be in. King Robert Baratheon had arrived, and Ashter was nowhere to be found. Robb had a pretty good idea where he'd be, but he figured Ashter wouldn't have been that dumb to miss out on the royal greeting.

After Robb's father and the King had departed for the Winterfell crypt to pay their respects to Robb's aunt, Lyanna Stark, Robb followed his Mother's wishes and took Rickon to search for Ashter. Robb didn't understand why his Mother wanted to bring Rickon, but he figured it was because Rickon would be too wild, standing around with a bunch of guests. Robb walked with Rickon through the godswood.

"What did you think of the King?" Robb asked his youngest brother.

"King is fat!" Rickon giggled. Robb laughed alongside him, "That he was, Rickon. That he was."

Robb heard moaning in the distance, and spots Ashter from a distance having sex with a woman in the middle of the godswood. Robb quickly covers Rickon's eyes and laughs to himself.

"What's happening?" Rickon asked as the woman moaned even louder.

"Come on, Rickon, let's head back to the castle." Robb turned him around and headed back. He assumed Ashter wouldn't take much longer.

Ashter reaches for his shirt after he put on his pants, he was a very athletic boy, he wasn't exactly modest about it too. He often bested Robb in combat whenever they were messing around in the castle or simply training. Ashter was always the best swordsman of all them. He bragged from time to time, but not to the point where it would get outlandishly annoying. The whore, who was a few years older than him, laid naked on the grass on her stomach. Ashter looked back at her bare ass, and chuckled to himself.

"Do you really have to leave? We can't stay here longer, m'Lord?" The woman said, seductively. Ashter put on his shirt and then faced the woman, grabbing his sword and other items.

"I better, before someone comes looking for me. After all, I missed King Fuck-Face Baratheon's official welcome. I expect my Father won't be pleased." Ashter said to her, glancing back and forth between her face and her butt.

"You're a bold man to call your King that. I like bold men." The woman said.

"Any boy can insult the King behind his back. A real bold man is a man who says it straight to hm with no fear. I appreciate the sentiment, love, but you like any man that puts money between your tits. And that so happens to be me." Ashter said, reaching into his satchel and dropping a small coin purse.

"That's quite generous, don't you think?" Ashter says as he begins to walk away.

"You wound me, m'Lord... just because I earn my money in a brothel doesn't mean a woman can't love someone beyond payment. I rather like spending time with you... you always treat me well." The woman said, resting her hands on his chin.

"Shut up, whore." He walks off.

Ashter walked through the Winterfell crypt, the voice of his Mother still ringing throughout his mind as she angrily demanded him to make it up to his Father and the King for his absence. Ashter spotted the two of them, and he called out.

"Father! Your Grace!" He called out, the two turned around. Ashter gulped.

"Ashter, where have you been?" Ned growled.

"I wasn't aware the welcome party was happening." Ashter said.

"Are you playing games with me, boy? We've been planning for this celebration for the past few days." Ned retorted.

"I didn't think it was happening right at this moment, is all I mean, Father." Ashter says to his Father and then he quickly faces the King and kneels in front of him.

"Apologies, Y-Your Grace. I..." Ashter awkwardly said. He was beginning to regret sneaking off with that prositute into the godswood. He paid extra just so she would avoid the new arrivals, such as the Imp, who is widely known for frequenting brothels throughout Westeros.

"Nonsense. Stand up. If I was in your position, I'm not so sure I would've showed up either. Let me give you some advice, son, come up with a better excuse." King Robert Baratheon chortled. Ashter stands up.

"You must be Ashter Stark."

"That's right... Your Grace." Ashter nodded, shaking hands with the King of Westeros. He barely believed it. He grew up on stories of him and his Father, fighting the Mad King, fighting Balon Greyjoy and his dumb rebellion. The mere exchange of the two meeting made him instantly regret missing out on the welcome party.

"Here's the boy I've heard so much about... by the Gods, you're the spitting image of your Uncle Brandon. If he didn't die by the Mad King, I'm sure Brandon and Catelyn's firstborn would've looked just like you." King Robert said to him. Ashter grinned sheepishly.

"I bet, Your Grace." He didn't know what to say to that. He had heard that he looked exactly like his Uncle Brandon from several people. His mother had told them that a lot, but his Father didn't. Not one time. Father never talked about his brother, Brandon very much. Ashter was well aware that his Uncle and Grandfather were both killed by the Mad King.

"Of course, you wouldn't know. He was a good man. And I hear you're nothing like your father. Not that that's a bad thing, I love your Father, but another Eddard Stark would be awfully dull." King Robert laughed.

"I'd agree, Your Grace, but my Father is right there." Ashter chuckled.

"Seven hells!" King Robert chortled. "You're too hard on this boy!"

"Where were you? Why weren't you with us when he first arrived?" Ned demanded to know.

"Yes, I know - Like I said, I didn't know it was happening now. I was... in the Godswood. I just wanted to practice with my sword." Ashter said, slightly grinning to himself.

"Damn it, Ned, let the poor boy go. I don't give a shit what he was doing. Whatever it was, I'm sure it was far better than standing in the cold waiting for my fat arse to arrive." King Robert faced Ned, who reluctantly nodded. Ashter grinned sheepishly again, he was relieved to have the King himself defend him.

"Thank you, Your Grace. I'm sorry I interrupted the two of you. With your leave, I'll go now." Ashter said to the two of them. Ashter wanted to stay and ask him more about his rebellion against the Iron Throne but he could feel his Father's eyes watching him in a suspicious manner.

"We'll talk later, son." Ned said. King Robert nodded and Ashter kneeled once more and then walked away.