"How in the Seven Hells did this happen?!" Torrhen screamed at Robb outside of Bran's room. After the hunting party had returned to Winterfell the mood had changed from carefree to deathly serious in half a heartbeat when Robb had met them and told Father and Torrhen to follow him to Bran's room. They arrived to see Maester Luwin and Mother standing over Bran's body. Torrhen saw he was still breathing, which was a fortunate sign. But his eyes were closed and he was completely still, not reacting to anything Mother or Maester Luwin were doing. In shock, he dragged Robb out the room and all but slammed the door behind him.

"According to Mother, the guards found him outside at the base of the Broken Tower. The best guess to what happened is that he fell."

"Bran falling? Robb, you know as well as I do that Bran could climb a wall of glass! He's never fallen!"

"But he did, so here we are now. Mother refuses to leave his side, no matter what." Torrhen's mouth opened and closed, unable to form words until all he could do was punch a nearby wall and storm off down the hall. Entering his room, he found Rhaegar patiently waiting for him on his bed. Scratching behind his ear, he sat down next to him. Sensing his pain, Rhaegar nuzzled his chin.

"I'm alright, boy. Bran's sleeping right now. It's whether or not he wakes up that has me worried." A knock on his door drew his attention. "Enter." The door swung open and Tyrion walked in, a look of sincere concern across his face.

"I hope I'm not intruding."

"Not at all. Just trying to reassure Rhaegar here. And myself, to some extent." Tyrion walked over and offered his hand to Rhaegar, who licked it affectionately. Unlike Grey Wind or Ghost, Rhaegar seemed to have no reason to dislike Tyrion. Perhaps due to his relationship with his master, he didn't view him as a threat.

"I'm so sorry for your brother. Truly I am."

"Thank you. It's a shame prayer and sympathy can't do more than just offer some imaginary comfort."

"Very true. When I was younger, I prayed to all Seven Gods that my father and sister would forgive me for my mother's death. Or at least, stop tormenting me about it. As you can imagine, the value of highborn prayers is just the same as the prayers of smallfolk."

"Worthless?"

"Exactly." A somber laugh was shared between the two men.

"Although, sometimes prayers do get answered. I would know." As the memory resurfaced he smiled while Tyrion looked both surprised and unconvinced.

"Really! And when did divine providence intercede on your behalf?" Torrhen began to explain but decided on another course of action.

"Follow me. Let me show you." Leaving his room, with Rhaegar and Tyrion following close behind, they made their way to the Godswood until they were standing before the Heart Tree. "When I was younger and it was just me, Robb and Jon, I noticed how often my mother saw us playing together and how...lonely she looked. So every day I would come here and pray to the gods, old and new, that they would give my mother another child so that she would be happy. I even prayed for a sister so that she could teach her how to be a lady. I prayed every day for over a month and then one day while kneeling right here" He pointed to a spot right in front of the carved face "Septa Mordane came here and told me that mother was with child. Nine months later, Sansa was born. I don't think you could have found a happier mother and father in all of the Seven Kingdoms. On that day I found proof that gods do exist. But that they choose when, where and for whom to work their miracles."

"Interesting. I've never thought of it that way. However, I choose to believe in what my eyes see and ears hear."

"And what do you see, Lord Tyrion?" Tyrion closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, he opened his eyes and looked straight at Torrhen.

"I see a father torn between the love of family and love of honor. A mother holding on by her fingernails to sanity. A brother who has learned about duty and honor all his life is now forced to lead by those principles. A bastard who wishes desperately to belong. One sister who wishes to be a princess, the other wishes to be anything but. I see a young boy clinging to life and younger brother caught in a whirlwind of events without understanding anything. And then there's you, Torrhen."

"Me?"

"Yes. I see a young man possessed of far more maturity than your frame would suggest. Someone who does not let notions like honor or chivalry blind him to the harsh realities of this world. Someone...who could achieve greatness if only given the opportunity."

"You see all of that?"

"I do, a lot more than others seem to see." This moved something in Torrhen, the idea that something within him remained invisible to all around him. Yet Tyrion Lannister, a Southern stranger until two days ago, saw it all too clearly.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For...being a friend when I needed one." Tyrion looked genuinely shocked.

"Well, I'm stunned. I have been called many things; Half-Man, the Imp, I was even called a sardine once in the Riverlands but...never a friend."

"Never too late to start."

"No, I suppose not." He extended his small hand toward Torrhen, which he grasped firmly. Both men smiled and Rhaegar rubbed his snout affectionately on Tyrion's chest.

"Well, he considers you a friend as well. That's a good sign."

"I certainly hope so." Torrhen watched as he scratched hesitantly behind Rhaegar's ears. "Shall we celebrate our friendship with some good wine?"

"Yes, we shall." Rising and dusting off his trousers, the three of them walked out of the godswood. "I've made a decision. Regarding your accompanying Jon and Uncle Benjen."

"And that decision is?"

"I'm going with you. I've never seen the Wall myself, and...I think it would be good to know that Jon has someone from the family with him."

"Are you sure? He might take it as trying to dissuade him and I doubt he would appreciate it."

"Perhaps, but I prefer to think of it as letting him know that there are some people here who love him. Besides, with Father going south and Robb staying here, what would I do otherwise? Sit in my room and read?"

"You know, that isn't such a bad idea. As long as there is plenty of good wine and cunt to help pass the time, of course."

"By the gods, you're worse than Theon."

"I certainly hope so. I have a reputation to consider, after all." Torrhen had to stop and hold his sides from laughing so hard. After taking a moment to get his breath back, he looked at Tyrion with an incredulous look.

"You're incredible. Do you know that?"

"Yes. Yes, I do." As they made their way to the great hall, Torrhen suddenly turned them toward the stables. "What are you doing?"

"I don't like the mood here. We can get good wine in town, and more." The two of them saddled horses and rode out the main gate, Rhaegar racing alongside and Torrhen immediately feeling better. As they made their way into town, they could hear music coming from the Smoking Log. As they dismounted and tied up their horses out front, Torrhen affectionately rubbed behind Rhaegar's ears. As they entered, with Rhaegar staying close, all the smells hit them at once and they soaked them in as they made their way to an open table near the fire. Nearby conversations were muted and the loudest sounds were the clinking of tankards and the creaking of floorboards.

"Keeper, some food and wine for myself and my friend and a plate of your finest venison, raw of course, for my friend's wolf," Tyrion called out, jingling a rather hefty purse, and almost immediately two rather large tankards were deposited at their table by the innkeeper, a lovely young woman who flashed a warm smile at Torrhen before returning to the kitchen. After toasting they drank deeply.

"Feeding deer to a wolf. Do I detect symbolism?"

"Nonsense, my friend. An animal as noble as a dire-wolf deserves the finest meat money can buy."

"Well, I will make sure that Rhaegar thanks you properly for your generosity." Suddenly the same woman returned with a tray carrying two large bowls of venison stew and a loaf freshly baked bread with a large chunk of sharp cheese.

"Thank you, my dear." Tyrion placed several gold dragons into her hand. "Don't forget the raw venison. I'm sure Rhaegar is absolutely starving. And before I forget, a round for the tavern on me." He placed several more coins in her hand as the tavern's patrons cheered their good fortune, the conversation and music resuming their previous level.

"Of course, m'lord." With a slight curtsey and a not-too-subtle wink at Torrhen, she departed to fetch Rhaegar's dinner while Rhaegar licked Tyrion's hand in thanks.

"Does your generosity know no limit, my friend?"

"One of the advantages of being a Lannister. What we lack in honor and chivalry we make up with an outrageous amount of money." Raising their flagons in a toast, they set into their dinner with a vengeance.

"So when is the royal party heading south?"

"Sometime in the next few days. It's a whole month from Winterfell to King's Landing. If the weather's good, of course. My sister thinks the sooner they leave, the sooner she'll be back safe and sound in her own warm bed."

"My father will probably be the complete opposite."

"Yes. I have no doubt King's Landing will be to him as a boot with a stone to a foot. Rather damned uncomfortable."

"At least Sansa and Arya are going with him. That will make it...easier if such a thing is possible."

"And why would it not be?"

"In all my life, my father left the North once. When he led his banners in the Greyjoy Rebellion. From all the stories I've heard of my father and his brothers, I've learned that Brandon was the leader, Benjen the follower, and my father was the warrior. I remember hearing of how he and King Robert stormed Pyke together, he with Ice and Robert with his warhammer. He was in his element on the battlefield. He may not have had wolf blood, but he was a ferocious warrior. But Hand of the King is not something I could see my father doing. He sees the world in black and white, right and wrong, and to be forced into a new world where loyalties change with the tides...I don't see him lasting long."

"But is that not the true test of any animal? To be forced into unfamiliar surroundings and attempting to survive?" Torrhen had to agree with him. "Your father is a formidable man, and perhaps he is just what King's Landing needs in these times."

"Do you really believe that, Tyrion?"

"Why shouldn't I? Your father is the only man Robert has any real respect for. If he will listen to anyone, it's Eddard Stark."

"Well, I hope you're right."

"So do I, my friend. So do I." The rest of the evening was spent either eating, drinking, laughing, and talking about their favorite books. For Torrhen, it was a wonderful night. He didn't think about Bran or Father or the King at all, rather about the innkeeper with those deep brown eyes and gorgeous lips.

(-)

The Gods, Old and New, were merciful to Torrhen as they spared his eyes the full brunt of the sun's rays. Rather, it was his ears that suffered as the rooster crowed. As his mind cleared he began to take in his surroundings. He was in bed, but it wasn't his. He was naked, and he wasn't alone. He was spooning against the innkeeper with one arm wrapped securely around her middle and the other above her head, with his hand buried in the curls of her brown hair. Raising his head slightly, he saw Rhaegar sleeping soundly at the foot of the bed. Laying back down, his eyes widened as he recalled the events of last night. As the evening progressed Tyrion had called her over and the three of them had enjoyed each other's company, with the lady situating herself on Torrhen's lap. After the last of the patrons had left Tyrion had taken his leave as well. The rest of the evening was a blur, but from where the two had ended up it seemed like details really didn't matter. With that, Torrhen relaxed and squeezed her against him which drew a moan from her mouth.

"Good morning." He whispered, planting a kiss on the back of her head. In response, she turned over to face him and kissed him gently.

"It is a good morning, my wolf." As she pressed herself against him, her head nestled underneath his chin, a warmth spread through Torrhen. A warmth that he did not want to lose. "I have never felt as good as I do today."

"I'm glad. I wasn't sure you would approve." Her laughter was like music to Torrhen.

"I approve a thousand times over, especially the biting." Torrhen's face went red while she giggled. "I've never made love to a Stark before. It seems that you're far warmer than I thought."

"Oh really? You thought all Stark men were cold?"

"Well, this is the North, after all." Torrhen had to admit that she did have a point. "Now, are you sure this was your first time?" He nodded sheepishly.

"Could you tell?" Threading his hands through her hair, he marveled at the softness. He wondered if this was how his father felt when he woke up with his mother. He found himself wanting that on a regular basis.

"No." With her response, he found himself releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Good." Planting another firm kiss, he rolled on top of her. As he looked into her eyes, he let out a short laugh. "I just realized something, and I'm so embarrassed."

"What is it?"

"I don't remember your name. I hope you can forgive me."

"You are forgiven, and my name is Della."

"Well Della, I'm Torrhen. It's nice to meet you. Again."

"Indeed." A peck on her lips earned him another smile. "So, you liked the biting?" With a nod, he broke out an enormous grin. "Well then, the day is young..." He bared his teeth and set upon Della's soft flesh with vigor while she laughed. Suddenly, their renewed lovemaking was interrupted by a most unpleasant sound. The sound of someone looking for Torrhen.

"Lord Torrhen! Lord Torrhen, where are you?!"

"Seven Hells!" This woke up Rhaegar, who was on his feet in a flash. Leaping out of bed and not bothering to cover himself, Torrhen strolled to the window. Throwing open the shutters, he looked down at the man on horseback. "What in the name of the First Men do you want?!"

"Apologies, my lord. I come with the greetings of Lord Tyrion Lannister. He wishes to inform you that the royal party is riding for King's Landing today. He hopes you will still be accompanying him to the Wall."

"Oh, right." He muttered while rubbing his eyes. "I'll be down in a moment." Turning away from the window, he began gathering his clothes.

"Must you go?" Turning to face Della, he saw that she was sitting upright and had drawn the bedsheets around her lithe and supple form. 'Gods, she looks glorious!' He thought as he sat at the foot of the bed next to Rhaegar and pulled his pants on, followed by his boots.

"Sadly, yes. I'm supposed to be traveling to the Wall with Lord Tyrion and my brother Jon. I would hate to be left behind." Suddenly, he felt her arms around his neck and her breasts pressed into his back. It was a wonderful feeling.

"Taking the Black, are we?" She asked, laying kisses on his shoulder and neck. He growled in response.

"Not a chance. I have far too much to live for. Such as this." Turning his neck, his planted his lips on hers and threading his hand through her hair. "But I made a promise, and I intend to keep it." Grabbing his boots, he looked at Rhaegar. "Am I right, boy?" A nuzzling of Torrhen's hand was his positive response. "There, you see?"

"So you will return to me?"

"I certainly hope so." This brought a smile to Della's face, which pleased Torrhen to no end. Reluctantly, he pulled away from her and gathered his remaining clothes while she remained on the bed. "I want you to know that if you need anything..."

"Thank you, but I don't need charity."

"But if you do..."

"I don't need anything, Torrhen. I have made a good life for myself here. I enjoyed being with you, and would like very much to do it again."

"So would I." An awkward silence fell between them. Torrhen's mind was filled with turmoil until he finally reached a decision. "Della, if you find yourself with child...I want you to know that I will acknowledge them." As he threw on his shirt and sword belt, Della's laugh in response startled him.

"I'm barren, Torrhen. I couldn't have children if I wanted to." Torrhen felt his face go slack. He had this whole speech prepared and now he felt really…stupid.

"Oh."

"Is something wrong?" She asked, with genuine concern on her face.

"No, nothing's wrong. It's just...I had this whole speech planned about responsibility and accepting the consequences of my actions but now...I don't know what to say." He sat down and ran a hand through his hair.

"You don't need to say anything. It's the thought that counts." Della took his hand in her own and reclined on the bed with her hair splayed out over the pillows, never breaking eye contact with Torrhen. She looked so divine to him. "And my thought is that the woman who marries you will the luckiest girl in the Seven Kingdoms. You are a good man, Torrhen Stark. I speak as a first-hand witness to it."

"I hope I'm not prying, but how?"

"It's actually quite simple. I was born in the Reach near Oldtown, I married young and I was going to have a baby. But then I got very sick and I lost the child. After that, I just…couldn't get pregnant again. My husband threw me out and I found my way north. The former innkeeper gave me work and when he died I took over. I've run this inn ever since. That was eight years ago."

"I see. Have you had others...before me?" A shrug of the shoulders was her response.

"Yes, but not for some time. Even a barren woman enjoys the warmth of another person." As she spoke she sat back up, dropping the sheet and leaving her bare form for Torrhen to look upon with desire. He wanted nothing more than to be with her again and to the Seven Hells with Tyrion and Jon. But what kind of man would he be if he so casually ignored his promises?

"I understand, but that doesn't change anything. I want to be with you again." Slowly standing and taking his hand back, he grabbed his wolfskin cloak and riding gloves and made his way to the door before stopping abruptly. "Rhaegar, go outside and wait by Swiftwind." Silently, he departed. Turning back he strode to the bed and took Della's head in his hands. "I will come back to you. I swear by the Old Gods and the New." He kissed her passionately and it took all the strength he had to pull away. "I hope you believe what I say."

"Oh, I do. I do, my wolf, and I will be here waiting for you." While a smile and a final kiss, he turned and walked out the door. Remembering to close the door behind him, of course.