Eddard
His meeting with Grand Maester Pycelle was occurring only because the man assumed that Ned still needed his treatment. Since Sansa had dripped the rest of the white woman's blood onto his palm, the pain was bearable. His leg was not completely healed, but he was able to walk for a short while without much difficulty. The old man claimed that he would visit later and Ned dismissed him.
Ned had his suspicions that the maester would go straight to the queen. The maester was like the queen's crow, bringing news that she hoped would make him quiver with fear. Well, Ned had seen a different type of bird, so he sent a reply with Pycelle that may make the queen pause.
This game that they were playing would be settled soon.
Littlefinger came next and they spoke of the king. He still had not returned, leaving Ned to run the realm. It was a job he was ready to give away. He was needed in Winterfell. Once the king returned, Ned would sit him down and inform the king of what he had learned. Then, he would return to Winterfell and rest with his family.
In a few days, Sansa and Arya would sail back home first. They would board the Wind Witch and be back in Winterfell before the harvest. With them truly safe, he would be able to do what he must in King's Landing. Then, he would join them.
Last night, he dreamt of Rhaegar's queen and babes. No mercy had been shown, but Robert could be merciful. Cersei and her bastard children would not be mutilated like the dragon's mate and children.
But Ned knew better.
After all these years, Robert still hated Rhaegar. He would not forgive his queen's betrayals anymore than he could forgive Rhaegar for taking Lyanna. Coming upon a decision, Ned called for Tomard, the redheaded guardsman that his children called Fat Tom.
"Take me to the godswood," Ned commanded. He could probably get there on his own but he needed to keep up the charade that he was injured. If he walked himself to the godswood, the queen's spies would inform her and it would be revealed that Ned was not as damaged as the believed.
Tomard helped him make his way to the empty godswood. In the north, those who worshipped did so in the wood. In the south, gods were worshipped in a citadel. They lowered him to the grass beside the heart tree and he touched the brown stump. Perhaps it would call the white woman to him. "Kindly deliver this letter at once," Ned requested, handing Tomard a letter with the queen's name scrawled on the envelope.
After Tomard left, Ned looked up to see the oak's leaves dance in the wind. Even though the heart tree was not like the one in the north, he still felt the presence of his gods.
"You are taking a great risk, my lord," a voice whispered in the wind.
Ned looked to his left and saw her touching the trunk of the tree. "I must do this," he started and she nodded in understanding.
"Yes. You must," the white woman murmured, looking towards the path that him and Tomard had taken. "I will stay with you," she said before a slender white owl took her place. She fluttered to the top of the tree and hid herself behind a curtain of leaves. When Ned could no longer see her, he heard the other woman making her way to him. She was not dressed in her usual manner. Instead of a gown, she wore hunting greens and leather boots. Like the white woman, she lifted her hood away from her head and revealed her golden blonde hair that her children shared.
"Why here?" Cersei Lannister asked.
"So the gods can see," Ned answered. Interestingly enough she did not know how literal he was being. The white woman had to be some sort of god-like being.
They spoke of her brother, who was also her lover and father of the three children that Robert believed were his own. He informed her that he knew of the bastards and that he would not see them on the throne. Ned was giving her time to flee, to exile herself and her children.
"When you play the game of thrones, you win. Or you die," Cersei warned before pulling her hood up and leaving him in the godswood.
"She is right, you know," the soft voice said. His body jerked, startled at the sound of her voice. He nearly forgot that the white woman was with him in the wood. Ned looked at her and noticed that her cloak was now as dark as the night's sky. "Even the gods are not safe when they play the game of thrones," she added.
"Is that what you are? A god?" Ned asked. She smiled at him, as patient as a mother with a child.
"I am the child of gods," she answered before lowering herself to sit next to him. "So yes, I am a goddess. Bran gave you my name in his letter."
"Yes. Morena. I thought the old gods did not have names," Ned claimed. Bran may have faith in the woman, but Ned's faith in her was limited.
Her patient smile graced her face once more. "We have names. They are just not given to you," Morena informed before stiffening. Her eyes began to fill with pain. "I must go. I will be with you soon," she swore before turning into a white owl once more and disappearing.