Rickon struggled to pull back the bow, arm shaking as Meera Reed directed him. He released the arrow too early, unable to hold the string. The arrow impacted the bottom of the target, no where near the bullseye. For a moment, he seemed dejected, but Meera gripped his arm.

"That's a good shot! The first time I shot a bow I missed completely." She encouraged him.

"The first time I shot a bow I almost hit Jon." Bran added, from across the yard, where he and Robb were practicing with training swords. Robb had stopped focusing on the practice and was watching Meera's tutoring. She had only been in Winterfell five months, but already Robb adored her.

Above the training yard, Ned laughed. He remembered that day. Robb and Jon had spent several hours trying to help Bran at least hit something near the target for their own protection. They had only succeeded after Robb enlisted Theon Greyjoy's help. Even then, it took Arya's persistence to get Bran comfortable.

"A raven arrived for you, Lord Stark." The floor under Maester Luwin's feet creaked as he crossed it, withdrawing the letter from his sleeve.

"From Lady Barbrey again?" Ned asked. She had been writing for several months now, trying to arrange a betrothal between her heir Rickard and Sansa. It was not a terrible match, as it would make Sansa Lady Dustin, but Rickard was eight years older than Sansa and there were other heirs closer in age. Catelyn had expressed that Sansa wished to marry south. Ned knew he could not give every one of his children what they wished, but Sansa's request was simple enough. There were many Riverlords who would be pleased to marry their liege lord's cousin in a few year's time.

"No, the letter is from the Tyrells of Highgarden." Maester Luwin handed him the tightly wrapped letter, and Ned turned it to look at the Tyrell seal before breaking it. It had been some time since he received correspondence from the south, and never from Highgarden. He read it slowly once he was assured it was not urgent, a frown tugging at his mouth.

"Lord Tyrell requests a betrothal between Sansa and his heir," Ned said at last, keeping his voice low enough to not be heard, trying to remember how old the boy had been at the time of the war. "Lord Willas is… thirty and two?"

"Twenty-and-six, my lord."

"Ten years older than Sansa. I had hoped for a match closer in age."

"Lord Tyrell has another unwed son, a boy of twenty, but Willas is his heir." The maester offered. "If you are willing to forgo Highgarden, I am certain he would be willing to offer the younger son."

Highgarden was half a year's ride south, farther than he had imagined any of his family would go, but he knew that Catelyn would be pleased at the prospect. The most attractive matches among the Great Houses were Renly Baratheon and Willas Tyrell, and to have one asking for Sansa's hand was everything Catelyn could have asked for. Ned was only glad it was not Lord Renly. Some part of him recoiled at the idea of marrying a Stark girl to a Baratheon Lord, and it was not a reaction he would relish explaining to his wife.

"Where is Lady Catelyn?" Ned asked.

"I believe she is reviewing the grain stores, my lord. Shall I send for her?"

"No, I will go to her." Catelyn's study would be quieter than the training yard. There was no need to concern the children with a betrothal offer that had not even been considered yet. The halls were surprisingly quiet, leaving him with his own thoughts. The last time that a Stark girl had gone south she had never returned. Lyanna had only been a year younger than Sansa when Rhaegar had spirited her away to Dorne, abandoning his lady wife and the realm itself. But the Targaryens were gone now, and Sansa was in no danger from the crown. No matter Robert's other faults, he would not kidnap Stark girls.

When he opened the door, his wife glanced up, then smiled. "How was Bran's training going?" Catelyn was alone, which was unusual as she normally had Sansa or Lady Poole with her, but Ned still locked the door behind him. He turned back to a somber Catelyn. "Is something wrong?"

"I recieved a letter from Highgarden." Rather than explaining he simply handed her the letter. Her concern quickly turned to elation, a smile spreading over her face as she read.

"Ned, this is wonderful! Sansa will be Lady of Highgarden, her sons will be lords and knights, her daughters marry high lords."

"Is Sansa ready?"

"She could run Winterfell if I was away, I imagine she can easily learn to rule Highgarden with the assistance of Lady Tyrell to become used to the Reach's politics and stores." She searched his face. "Is something wrong?"

"Lord Willas is ten years older than Sansa, I had hoped for a match of a closer age," he answered. It almost sounded feeble to his ears, when they had once considered Rickard, who was almost as old and of a far lesser house.

"Ten years is not so much as to prevent the match," Catelyn answered, "Jon Arryn was far older than that when he was married to Lysa, and the other heirs of the Great Houses are as old or older. There is the matter of Joffrey Baratheon, though…"

Ned frowned, "Robert's oldest son? What of him?"

"King Robert was once arranged to marry your sister Lyanna. He might think to honor that match by offering to wed Sansa to Joffrey, although I supposed that there is always Arya to consider-"

"I'll not have Arya married south," Ned interrupted,more sharply than he intended. He would certainly not have her married to Robert's son, even if Arya herself had desired a southron match, "once she's of a proper age there are many Northern sons suitable for her to wed."

Catelyn did not protest directly, but Ned knew her well enough to know that she had no intent of forgetting the subject, even if she was willing to let it go for now. "It would be well looked-upon to marry a Stark daughter to one of our bannermen, there hasn't been such a marriage for several generations. There is also the matter of Lord Willas' leg to consider. Sansa hopes to marry a knight, she may be concerned for his health."

"Maester Luwin reminded me that Lord Tyrell has a younger son, and Ser Loras is a knight of some renown, but not his father's heir."

"No, if Sansa is to marry a Tyrell it must be Lord Willas, knight or no."

"We do not have to accept," Ned added, "and Highgarden is so very far from here."

"It is one of the best marriages we could hope for. The Reach is powerful in men and resources, Sansa would be lady of a Great House, and the Starks would gain new allies. Unless we intend to propose to King Robert that Sansa marry the prince then I think we should accept. There's also the matter of Bran and Rickon."

"Bran is twelve and Rickon seven. It will be some time before either of them will need to think of betrothals." The Manderlys had approached him concerning Bran, but he doubted that they would wait, Wynafryd was already twenty and one.

"Bran has spoken for years of wanting to be a knight, and is old enough to be a page. If Sansa is to go to Highgarden, perhaps he could accompany her and squire for her betrothed or Lord Tyrell. You were friends with King Robert of old, perhaps he would agree to squire him in Kings Landing." Catelyn looked pained at the suggestion, but for a moment Ned could only remember what happened the last time a Stark went to Kings Landing at the request of the king. Robert had returned his father's bones alongside Brandon's, but the mix of ash in the tombs could not be sworn to one man or the other. Ned had not asked how the maesters had determined it, had only gone home and buried Lyanna beside them.

"Ned?"

He started, looking up to find Catelyn watching him, one of her hands brushing down the white-and-red gown she wore. "Forgive me, what did you say?"

"If we are to marry Sansa to Willas Tyrell she will need to spend time in Highgarden. The wedding can be put off a few years, until she's of a proper age."

"If Sansa agrees to the match I will write back to Lord Tyrell. You are correct, Catelyn it is a good match." So long as Sansa was happy he would marry her to the Martells of Dorne if she so wished.

Catelyn hesitated, and Ned wasn't sure if she was wondering if he had heard her or what Sansa would think of the offer. "I will ask her this evening after dinner, so she will have a chance to consider before giving us her answer. Does Maester Luwin know anything of Lord Willas?"

"Some, I am certain. Sansa is welcome to speak to him."

"I will speak to him, and tell her what he says. Until she decides I will ask her to keep the offer quiet, I don't want all of Winterfell talking of it if she declines."

Ned stepped back into the hall and headed toward his solar. Robb's marriage to Meera would be soon, and Catelyn was correct when she said that Bran and Rickon would soon need betrothals of their own. Rickon, at least, needed to marry in the North, but if Bran wanted to be a knight then his betrothal would likely be put off for a time. Arya, though, Arya reminded him too much of Lyanna, too much of his sister's quiet disapproval and desperate departure.

He'd not see Arya suffer Lyanna's fate.