A/N: Hey guys! I'm so sorry about the lack of updates. I had a ton of family emergencies come up recently and haven't had the time or will to write anything lately. This chapter is shorter than my previous uploads but never fear, I already have the fourth chapter almost ready to upload! To recap, Tommen and Myrcella ARE true-born Baratheons. They both have black hair and greenish-blue eyes. Jon is actually Jaemon Targaryen. He hides his identity as the illegitimate son of Brandon Stark and Ashara Dayne. He also is referred to as Jae, Jon, and Jaemon. All of the Stark's have direwolves except for Catelyn since she was born a Tully. There are other direwolves outside of the ones that the Starks bond with. In this story, a direwolf can grow to be the size of a large pony or a small horse. Beyond that, I again apologize for the inconvenience and thank you to everyone that has commented on this story! Your questions and suggestions have honestly been amazing and I just want to thank you guys for the overwhelming support and love for this story.

*Disclaimer*

*As always, I own none of this. All characters, plots, and anything else come from the brilliance that is George R.R. Martin*

Chapter 3

Winterfell, 298 AC

"Well that was surprisingly not an absolute disaster," Jon said and everyone around him nodded. From his chair in the family solar Ned sighed haggardly. Having Robert around was even more exhausting than he remembered. Especially when you're worried about the safety of your family and the North. Thankfully, from the beginning of the feast to its close, Robert was in the company of several Wintertown whores. The women would be reporting to him in the morning about any and all information that the king let slip. It had been Nymeria's idea to use brothels as a front for a spy network. So far, it had proved more than fruitful, the women selected for the duty were more than happy to help keep the Realm safe, even if it was from behind a curtain.

Beside him, Catelyn was busily threading a needle through fabric. In and out, a design that only she could see taking shape with the ease of long practice. "I don't like this Ned. It was too calm at the feast. Something is building, something dangerous. The North is not safe with lions prowling around." Ned opened his mouth, only to be cut off by Catelyn with a glare. "No Ned, you can't ignore this. I know that you were close to Robert once but those days are gone. Your friend isn't the same and neither are you. He's dug his grave, do not let him dig the Norths." While the Stark brood were used to seeing the occasional spat between their parents, they had never seen Lady Catelyn so worked up over something. The hands which had so expertly been embroidering minutes before were now clenched, knuckles white with the effort not to shake in fear and anger. "My Lord, if I may, Lady Catelyn is right. Robert lost the right to call for aid when his foolishness led to a war that cost the North and South their best hope for peace since Aegon the Conqueror and Torrhen Stark." Jory Cassel spoke from his position by the solar entrance. "It's fine Jory, and Catelyn, I'm not going to make excuses for Robert or the Lannisters. He lost all rights to our loyalty after the sacking of Kings Landing." Everyone paused momentarily, mourning the loss of Elia Martell and her two children, Aegon and Rhaenys, Jon's half-siblings.

Catelyn was the first to regain her composure, nervously looking toward the door before voicing the thought that was going through everyone's head. "There will be a war soon, won't there, Ned? I can't picture Robert living much longer, not being tied to the people that he is. And his 'son'? Nymeria and the boys have told me horror stories about him and what he's done to his siblings." Ned sighed roughly, rubbing a hand across his face. "Yes, Cat, there is a storm brewing and I don't believe that there will be much longer before it breaks and brings down the wrath of the Old Gods and New. Winter is coming and we must prepare." Shaelin got up from her position by Ned's feet and quickly crossed the room to face the door, growling softly.

"Jory, open the door immediately." The order scarcely passed Lord Stark's lips before his brown direwolf bolted out of the room, followed closely by her partner. The rest of the Starks all glanced at each other before joining the two retreating shapes. On and on they ran until they reached a poorly lit corner of the castle, outside of the stables. Lord Stark swore as he saw the bloodied body of the king's youngest child, sweet little Tommen. He was unmoving, save the faint rise and fall of his battered chest. "Quickly, we must get him to the Inner City." Arya looked at her father with alarm, "But the Inner City is a secret. What happens if he tells someone about it?" She was shushed by Sansa. "Then we'll deal with that if it happens. What's more important, Arya? The life of a child or our pride?" Ned looked at his eldest daughter with fondness. For a while he and Catelyn were worried with how much she loved learning about the South but as she got older that naivety faded and revealed a sharp mind and sharper wit. She was training under Varys in secret to learn the politics of the South and Essos. Shaking his head as his thoughts wondered Ned looked at the boy in his arms. Who would want to attack Tommen Baratheon? It's well known how gentle the child is. Only one name came to mind, and the possibilities surrounding it troubled him. If the rumors about the Crown Prince were true then it was entirely likely that Joffrey was behind his brothers injuries. Jaemon, Robb, and Theon had all come to him after speaking to Tommen earlier that morning. What they had disclosed was…disturbing, to say the least. If Tommen could confirm it then he needed to get the two youngest Baratheons out of Kings Landing as soon as possible.

Together, the Starks, with Jory, Theon, and the two Direwolves made their way to the Inner City, passing unnoticed through Winterfell's passages. It seemed only moments before Ned reached Maester Aemon's Hospital Wing. The wizened Targaryen was waiting patiently, a white raven resting on his shoulder, watching with three intelligent red eyes. "Place the boy upon a bed, gently now' the maester instructed, 'what do you know of how Tommen Baratheon came to be on his death bed?" Ned cleared his throat, the mask of the Lord of Winterfell slipping over his features. "We're not sure. Shaelin alerted us to something being wrong and we found Tommen soon after near the stables." A dark look passed over the maesters face as he inspected the boy, hands searching and pressing. It seemed an age before he spoke once more, only to ask for someone to get him milk of the poppy and his surgical equipment. The raven flew away moments after that, heading towards one of the exits of the city.

Minutes turned into hours as the Starks and their most loyal sat patiently waiting for word of the prince. In the meanwhile, the white raven reappeared, followed closely by all of the Direwolves and, to everyone's surprise, Myrcella Baratheon. The young girl was surrounded by Direwolves, protecting her from all but the Starks. The raven cawed before taking off again, this time to rest once more on Maester Aemon's shoulder. "Ah, I see we have a guest. My dear child, would you come here please? I sense that all is not as it should be." The dark-haired girl looked at the elderly man with scared eyes. She would not have moved an inch if not for the silvery-grey direwolf that gently pressed its head against her back, pushing her forward. "Please ser, I was looking for Tommen and…" Myrcella paused, fear evident in her face, but not, Ned observed, of the present company.

The dark feeling in the pit of Ned's stomach grew and he just knew that something horrible was happening. "Princess Myrcella, you have my word as the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North that you are safe here. Nothing can hurt you while the Direwolves are around." The raven-haired girl still appeared nervous, but nodded her head. "I was looking for Tommen and found Joffrey. He…he was covered...in blood. There was so much blood.' She shook as she continued. 'I asked him if he was ok and he…he laughed and said that Tommen looked much better in red than in gold. He asked me if I would look better in red and I ran. The Direwolves found me and led me here." His children stiffened and glanced at one another, horrified. "Do you know where Tommen is? I've never seen Joffrey like that before. He appeared…mad." Myrcella asked, worry for her brother evident. Maester Aemon replied, voice gentle and soothing. "Yes, my dear, he is safe. The Starks brought him here only three hours past. He is recovering from his wounds in my Hospital Wing."

His words brought a look of relief to the princess, her shoulders sagging as if a great weight had been taken off of them. "May I see him?" she asked. "Of course, my dear. Follow me, Arya, if you could come as well? And bring Visenya and Rhaenys with you, I should like to see how they are faring. The two girls left, followed by the Direwolves in question.

Ned sighed, feeling older than he thought it possible to be. Lyanna, father, Brandon, what is coming? I can feel it building. People like Joffrey are becoming more common than those like Myrcella and Tommen. Winter is coming. "Gather those most loyal to us. Joffrey must be monitored, as discreetly as possible. Someone must summon Varys north. I do not trust anyone south of the Neck with his head." Ned spoke with authority. Jory left, the gravity of their current situation lending him speed. Beside him, Sansa spoke. "Father, what is going to happen? Myrcella and Tommen aren't safe with that monster. The Queen has no love for the North and we all know that King Robert will not reign for much longer if she has her way. With Joffrey as king Westeros is doomed." She was right. With Joffrey in charge all of Westeros would suffer, lords and small folk alike. But what could he do? He was bound by honor as the Warden of the North to protect the…the North. Ned was sworn to protect the North for its king. Who that king was didn't matter. It didn't matter if they were a king of the North, or of the South.

His eldest children seemed to be coming to the same conclusion. Theon spoke first, a look of caution on his usually surly face. "Lord Stark. Perhaps we might call a meeting of the lords of the North? They should be made aware of the situation that is brewing with our monarchs." "Theon and Sansa are right father, Joffrey cannot be allowed to rule. To sit him upon the throne is to welcome a new Mad King Aerys." Robb defended his sister and friend, as Grey Wind rose to his feet, eyes narrowed. Ned felt pride in his children. They're growing up. May the world be ready when they're old enough to ascend to their seats. However, one stayed silent, observing everyone else. "Jaemon, what say you?" Ned called to his nephew, interested in his opinion. The lad in question looked up, surprised by the sudden attention. He remained silent for a few moments, a look of concentration on his face. "I believe that Westeros will not see rest if things are allowed to continue. King Robert has drunk and whored the country into a debt that it has almost no hope of paying off. His Small Council is corrupt and care only for their own personal gain. The Grand Maseter is a well-known Lannister supporter and reports directly to Cersei on most issues. If Joffrey were to seize control it would only get worse. He takes pleasure from the pain of others. What would stop him from inflicting that on his subjects? Who would stop him? If he were king, millions of innocents would suffer and die from his negligence. As children of Houses Stark, Greyjoy, and Targaryen we are honor bound to protect this realm from all threats, inside and outside its borders. If we don't take action, what right have we to fashion ourselves as better?"

Ned contemplated his family's advice. They all agreed that to let Robert continue on his path was folly, as was letting Joffrey sit the throne and Cersei manipulate him. As far as the North was concerned, Robert had never been someone worth following or respecting and Ned was fairly certain that the rest of the realm now shared those views. The Lannisters were vicious and if not for members like Tyrion and even sometimes Jaime, Ned would gladly have seen them given the same fate as the Reynes. The faces of his family flashed in his mind. Lyanna and Rhaegar, dead because of Robert's pride. Brandon and father, dead because of Aerys' pride. So many people dead because of pride. And so many more would fall because of Joffrey's. There was no choice, it had already been made the moment that Tywin Lannister allowed the Mountain to kill two babes and rape their mother, all for the sake of "honor."

"We will discuss this further when the lords and ladies arrive. I will not let such actions go unpunished but we must not act in anger or fear." Ned spoke with a tone that allowed no questions. He was, in that moment, only Lord Stark, Warden of the North. Those around him bowed their heads. He walked past his children and into the hospital wing.

Immediately upon entering, Ned was struck with how clean everything was. He'd only been to this part of the Inner City a handful of times, namely the birth of his children and when Daenerys was brought to them but the hospital hadn't changed at all. Lining the smooth mosaic walls were doors leading to individual rooms. No one person shared a room with another unless there was an emergency, to keep infection risks at bay. There were different nurses and apprentices on shift throughout the day, all of them reporting to Maester Aemon. All around were bright colors, the only solids coming from the cloth that was waiting to be washed in a bin nearby. A nurse quickly came forward, followed by a raven. "Right this way, Lord Stark. Your daughter and Maester Aemon are with the Baratheons in room seven." The raven flew above them, cawing "Seven!"

Ned followed the nurse, his feet like lead as the bed drew closer. On it was Tommen. Gods, he's so pale and small. The boy looked far better than he had when he'd been found but the way he was splayed out reminded Ned of someone else, from a day he'd prefer forgotten. Beside the boy was his sister, Myrcella and his own daughter, Arya. Myrcella was stroking her younger brother's inky locks, still wet from a wash. To get all of that blood off. Gods, the blood. A face flashed in Ned's mind, equally pale with long brown curls instead of black waves. Promise me, Ned. Lyanna's last words haunted him constantly, along with Father and Rickard's fate and others. Why can't I forget? Why have I been tasked to remember? "Lord Stark?" Myrcella's voice rang out, hesitant but strong, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Yes, Lady Myrcella?" The girl looked at her brother and the wolf that stood by his bed. "Thank you for saving my brother. If something had happened…if Joffrey had succeeded…' she seemed unable to continue, tears streaming down her face, '…thank you." He watched as Arya carefully embraced the other girl, soothing her tears. I promised you, Lyanna. It's time I fulfilled it.

***Two weeks later***

Ever since that night when he found Tommen, Ned had been planning on how to get Robert's youngest children to stay in Winterfell. His spies had reported that the king was getting restless and wanted to leave soon. Things were deteriorating between him and Cersei more and more, giving Ned the perfect opportunity to strike. "Your Grace!" Ned called out, catching up to his king. "Hmm, what do you want Ned? I was about to go riding, the wind is promising rain and I want to do something before it pours." Robert huffed, grabbing the reins of his massive destrier. "Of course, Your Grace. Might I join you on your ride? There is a matter that I'd like to discuss that I believe would be profitable for the both of us." The king considered for a moment before signaling to ready another horse. Once a second mount was prepared, the two set out past the gates and into the Wolfswood. Robert broke the silence first, pulling out his wineskin. "Now what was it that you wanted to talk about, Ned? And it better be good since you refused my offer of Hand. I didn't bring enough wine with me to speak too long of politics." Lord Stark ran over what he had prepared the night before. He had to get this right if he wanted to keep Tommen and Myrcella safe. "Your Grace, Robert. The matter is about Tommen and Myrcella. It is mine and Lady Catelyn's wish to foster them at Winterfell." The king looked dumbstruck, shaking his great head in a style not dissimilar to a dog. "You want to foster those two in the North? That's fine with me but you know that Cersei won't like that and I don't want to hear her screaming day in and day out." He was so close, Robert was easy to manipulate, Ned thought sadly. But Cersei. Cersei would need an incentive, something to guarantee the welfare of her children. "What if they were betrothed to two of my own and Tommen served as squire to the Warden of the North?" Ned held his breath, he knew that his offer was a good one. A betrothal between the two youngest Baratheons and two of his own brood would create a strong tie with the Stormlands, Crownlands, and Westerlands. And the Lannisters and Baratheons would gain allies with the Riverlands and North. Yes, even one marriage would unify almost all of Westeros, if only for a few generations. Robert seemed to agree, if his response was anything to go by. "You have yourself a deal. Tommen and Myrcella will foster here at Winterfell and if in that time, a betrothal is arranged between them and any of your brood then all the better. Tommen will serve as your squire and be knighted once he reaches the age and skill that the title deserves. I'll deal with the Queen."

King Robert's answer both pleased and floored Ned. He couldn't believe that the king didn't demand a betrothal, but instead gave a graceful way out if the matches didn't work. He's done much wrong in his life, but in this, he was right. Ned had dreaded the thought of forcing his children to marry for political stability but Robert had saved him from that curse. The fact that Arya was not brought up once was also a good sign. His lecherous glances hadn't gone unnoticed and Ned knew that the staff of Winterfell had been watching their king like a wolf, ready to sink its fangs into his throat if something happened to its pup. Ned excused himself, riding back to Winterfell to deliver the news. There were plans to make for the morrow, and the Wise Wolf refused to leave the North open for attack from vengeful lionesses.