When Leona left, Lucan never knew quite what do so with himself. He just stood there staring at the spot where the wolf maid disappeared, willing her to appear again. She wouldn't, her duties excelled his as a noble lady, and she would be missed having breakfast with her family and catering to the girls, Sansa and Arya, while her mother kept the household in order. Besides Robb, and perhaps his uncle, no one would know he was gone.

Taking one last dive beneath the water, Lucan resurfaced and brushed his hands over his face to keep the water out his eyes, and made his way over to the clothes that were scattered around him carelessly. Hoisting his trousers over his legs, Lucan was sorry to leave this place. He was particularly fond of it for the many times he and Leona had spent enthralled with one another here. A place in the wood where they didn't have to be cautious of every kiss, while his hunger for her flesh could be tamed, with every thrust.

Leona Stark.

From the moment his uncle Rodrick had lifted his cloak to reveal his straggly self beneath, Lucan's eyes did not behold the stronghold's towering walls with awe, but kept them steady to the courtyard, where his ears, after capturing the sound of soft laughter, had told him to look when his sight was not masked. There he saw a young girl with waist long hair, that danced between rich shades of red and brown, playing with her father. Each time she moved her hair rippled in effect and she was wild. Lucan could tell that by the way her father was not afraid to toss her high into the air, and spun madly in circles, while she cried gleefully. He could have watched her fun all day if he could have, but his uncle disrupted it.

'My lord Eddard,' Rodrick had called, and the man, still carrying the girl, walked over to them with her on his shoulder.

This lord Eddard, he was quite fearsome in looks. A Northman through and through, but in company of his beloved child, his stern features did reflect the joy she inspired in his heart and for Lucan, this had made the Lord of Winterfell not so intimidating, that he wished to hide or shy from him.

'this is the nephew I had told you about. His mother's dead, and so is his father. He has only me left in the world.'

The Lord nodded, 'and with you he shall stay Rodrick. Does the boy have a name?'

Lucan had answered before his uncle, and the grown men looked down at him.

'Lucan is it?' Eddard asked, without taking insult from the boy's outspokenness, and he returned his daughter to ground.

'now little wolf, come say hello.'

When the object of Lucan's gaze was closer, he had thought her only more beautiful, and when at last she tore her face from looking up at her father, she beheld Lucan with eyes you wouldn't want, or ever could forget.

Two iris's framed with thick lashes, one was as grey as the snow clouds brewing overhead, and the other, was the vivid blue Lucan had always imagined the seas in Dorne to be like. Together they were a shocking contrast, but they did not take away her loveliness, only enhanced it if anything.

The wolf pup smiled sweetly, 'my name is Leona.'

And from that moment on, Lucan surrendered his heart to a daughter of Winterfell, unknowing that she, for the many years that they had grown up in each other's company, had given him her love too.

On that fateful night when Leona had confessed to him her feelings, before the old Gods and the new, Lucan would have married her then and there. However, she was loyal to her father, Eddard. The same as he. And because of that, neither of them wanted to start their marriage with deceit.

Thus, he did as she bade him, and that was too wait, as shit as the game was. And with his last few possessions in tow, Lucan haunted Leona's step and instead of turning back to Winterfell, he remained in the forest with an arrow drawn, ready to hunt.

…..

Riding home, the place was busier compared to when Lucan had left, with everyone going about their chores.

He gave his greeting's to some he passed and rode up to the stables where his grim faced uncle was waiting.

"Where have you been Lucan?"

Swinging down from his horse, Lucan led the beast further to where Rodrick was standing, choked by his fur collar. With a smile, he removed the rabbits hanging off his saddle and held their carcasses up for his uncle to see.

"Hunting," he declared.

The old man looked stern, "And that was more important than tending to your masters!"

"My masters" Lucan scoffed, unsaddling his horse and settling it in, until the next time he wished to ride, or be ridden. Lucan grinned to himself at the thought, answering his uncle, "now that is Very formal."

Sir Rodrick had been leaning on the stables gate and with one swift motion, Lucan whipped it out from under him. He faulted slightly and scorned the look on his nephew's face, covering his folly with another lecture.

"Yes, well you should remember, as close as you are with Robb and the others, they are still your superiors, and you should not take that for granted. You have certain obligations for example."

"Obligations," Lucan repeated, not knowing he had any. Well, none for him to take too seriously in any case, although his uncle thought different.

"Like to be a witness at an execution."

Confused, Lucan turned around sharply on his heel and Rodrick explained, "A deserter from the Nightswatch."

Leaning on a stone wall, there were some odd barrels around and he lifted the lid of one glimpsing at the apples within.

Retrieving the fruit, Lucan started tossing it between hands, "We Haven't had one of those in years."

Which was true enough. Lucan must have been eleven the last time he rode out with Lord Eddard and the others to see the deed be done. It had been his first execution and he would always remember it, with the man who passed the sentence swinging the sword.

"The boy had no wits. Kept rambling on about the white walkers. Ridiculous."

Lucan bit into his apple, thinking of the man living on a block of ice and hardly blaming him for going mad, he just didn't think it should have costed him his life. But no deserter received mercy, no matter the reason, for abandoning his vows.

He swallowed, "Then you have had an eventful morning uncle."

The old man grunted brushing a hand through his snowy whiskers, "And to top it all off, we have only gotten ourselves some new additions to the castle. Bloody Direwolves."

Having been rubbing his tongue across his teeth, Lucan froze and glared at his uncle, chuckling, "Now you're just going senile."

"Don't believe me," Rodrick dared, "go down to the kitchens and see for yourself. Each Stark child and the Snow boy as well, they all have a pup to name and feed."

Lucan was hesitant to move if his uncle was looking to make him a victim to his joke, and he snatched up his rabbits to use as an excuse to be going to the kitchens anyway and held his head high, entering through the wood door and descending down the steps, swearing to have his vengeance if the old man was lying.

However, when he got about halfway, he could not deny the chorus of sharp yelps he was hearing and then there they all were, from the youngest Rickon, to the eldest boys Robb and Jon, clutching in their arms balls of fur.

"blimey," he gasped and everyone turned around to look at his bewildered expression.

"look Lucan, we found Direwolves!" the baby in the family cried.

Bran, rubbing his pup between the ears, glared at his brother, "you didn't find them Rickon, Robb and I did."

He didn't bother getting in between their argument and looked over to his girl, Leona. She was giggling with pure devotion at the one she had claimed as her own, letting it lick her face as she held it close to her.

"have you named them yet?" Lucan asked, and Leona was the first to answer.

"well, I don't know about the others, but I know what mine is called," She smiled, "Faith."