He had felt thrice his age when he learnt of Ned's death moons ago. He sat drinking moonshine staring at the moonlight reflecting off the water of the marshes in deep thought. He remembered his meeting of the four Starks at Harrenhal for the tournament that changed all of their lives. He remembered the war that ensued and the journey to Dorne; the battle that only he and Ned had survived against all odds.
Seven against three.
Petals falling down upon them as they fought.
He had blacked out for a short while mentally and physically drained. He awoke slightly disorientated before making his way up the spiral stone steps of the tower. It was sweltering in the tower. The heat made the stench of blood and sweet smell of winter roses all that more pungent. He came into the room and there she lay motionless and bloody. Ned's tears of grief and the cries of an infant were the only sounds. He stepped on strewn wilting blue winter rose petals as he took Ned's hand from his dead sister's. If only I had been the Knight of the Laughing Tree, maybe it would have made a difference and the wolves would all be alive and free.
He knew this from his time spent at the Isle of Faces before the tournament at Harrenhal. It has a price. He told his children of those events over and over in order to preserve his memories of his friends. Incase Ned or I died and the boy needed to learn of the truth. When is the right moment? The memory of their parting resurfaced as he downed the rest of the clear liquid.
Both the quiet wolf and the crannogman were weary from grief over the deaths of the wild wolf and the wolf maid.
"I can hide him and protect him for you. My people are loyal they have kept secrets as old as the coming of the First Men. You need not strain your marriage. You made a promise to keep him safe from Robert there was nothing specific that meant you had to name as your bastard." Ned had shaken his head sadly at him.
"He is my blood and I won't give him up. Tis' nothing against you or your people, but I can't, he is only good thing that came out of their deaths and this damn war. You are right I made a promise to Lya therefore I must be the one to protect him." He nodded understandingly before they embraced for the last time.
"Goodbye, Ned."
"Farewell, Howland." As Ned on his horse and the wagon carrying the wolf maid's bones and her pup and his wet nurse Wylla headed north to Winterfell. Howland headed west to the bogs and marshes of his home but he stopped and looked back at the creaking wagon disappearing from sight.
Farewell Jon.
It was his last adventure outside of the Neck. 'I am done with adventures.' A soft hand touched his shoulder. He-
The floor creaked with soft footsteps and shook Howland out of his reverie. One of the main reasons he had stayed in the Neck for eighteen years entered the bedchamber. The room was dark with only two tapers burning. He did not turn around to look at the other occupant even as he heard the sound of the feather bed sagging under the weight of one sitting down on it.
"Our children aren't coming home are they?" came a bitter yet soft voice. Howland slowly turned his head to his wife. They have had this conversation many times before since he returned from the battle at Moat Cailin. She had her back turned to him facing the wall. Her long dark hair hung down to the middle of her back. Meera had dark hair like her mother though she kept it at shoulder length. At least she did before they left for Winterfell. "Are all my children meant to die before their time?" Howland winced at her harsh tone.
"Meera will keep Jojen safe. She was taught how to fight. I taught her how to fish and hunt to survive." He did not speak of their children's part in Ned Stark's son's purpose in the war and the long winter that was coming. He had once which led to an angry outburst from his wife. She was still slightly alarmed by the greensight he and their son had.
"But who will keep her safe? What is there to fish or hunt where they have gone? My children are not a pair of sacrificial animals for the gods to use at their whim." His wife was protective of their children especially Jojen and had not taken their departure from their home and her care well at all.
"Howland, why wouldn't you fight to keep them from harm? Why didn't you fight to change their fate?" He could hear Meera's stubborn words to him about Jojen in his mind that mirrored her mother's. Because Jojen had to help Bran Stark develop his powers, He and I couldn't have changed the outcome if we tried.
"What will become of your House if you die without a living heir? What will happen to me?" Meera will come home to you. She will rule the Neck and be Lady of Greywater Watch. But he remained silent refusing to promise something that could change as easily as the direction of the wind. He stood up and walked over to sit next his wife on the bed taking her hand in his.
"I sometimes wish I had died and remained dead but I am too selfish to really mean it. I could never resent you for what you did for me. For them. But I think of my babies in danger, I feel trapped and helpless because I cannot go where they can. In turn, I am harsh and ungrateful to you because of it, I'm sorry." She stroked his beard mournfully. "You and the children are paying the price for my selfishness." Howland looked at her about to voice his repeated points of disagreement to her claim but she looked so haunted and beautiful. Instead he murmured as he pulled her closer words of regret that he had not been able to free her from her cage of regret and remorse.
"Don't be contrite, Howland. I don't think I was ever meant to be happy." Her eyes shone with unshed tears as she kissed him deeply. Jojen had inherited the same eye color before he got the green sickness. But you were happy once long ago before this all happened. We laughed and I watched you danced with my wolf friends.
Lord Theon Greyjoy, his sister and his retinue had left a fortnight from the wedding. Margaery had sighed of relief. Theon was the only Ironborn that did not irk his wife and to be honest himself as well. Sansa had been unreadable as she said her farewell to her new husband. Jon had also left Winterfell to go back to the Wall not long after. Again, Sansa had been quiet about Jon's departure. I am not sure what to think now.
Margaery looked at Robb in surprise when he and his army had not joined Jon on his trip back to the Wall. Robb sighed when she asked about it.
"You were so adamant that you would go back to the Wall once the Ironborn left with Jon. Why the change, my love?" He rubbed her thigh as he slowly answered,
"I missed being here with you, our son, my sisters, and Rickon. These battles that are coming are not like the ones I have fought before. I fought men not these unnatural beings." She kissed him.
"I miss you too when you are away. You killed three Others. Robb, does that not count as experience?"
"Yes I killed three Others but it cost Smalljon's life." His face was pained at memory. "You don't understand Margaery. He died before my eyes and I had to burn him as he rose as a wight. I don't want to march my men to their death and see them become undead."
"You marched south and fought and won battles, did you not? We survived the Red Wedding. What are your house words, Robb? Your parents died, my brother died, and more will die. You can't save everyone, you know that and you aren't afraid of going to battle. The Wall may not keep them out for long and what will become them and their families? Of our family?"
He knew this but it did not shake the pessimism he felt. I want to rest for once. I want to sleep through the night not plagued with nightmares. The separation from Margaery was hard on Robb. The demanding pressure of not dying and ensuring no harm would come to his family, his bannermen, their families, and his people was exhausting enough. His parents had been lucky to raise a family during a relatively peaceful time period.
"You are right. I am afraid that I might not come back that it will be me that will be burnt. I'm afraid of not seeing this little one and Eddard grow up. I want as many children as you are willing to bear me. I want to give our daughters away at their weddings. I don't want to make you a widow again." But Margaery had fallen asleep due to the late hour so Robb heard his wife's soft snores and felt slow even breaths against his chest.
Harwin looked at the hanging dead body of the member of the Brotherhood with Banners who let the young lady and the baby go unharmed. Some of the men had balked at Lady Stoneheart's orders to kill them. For the lady was pretty and appeared sweet yet desperate. Harwin had known the lady was no common lass passing through. Her speech and manner were more refined. Her inconsistent tale as well. Perhaps Lady Stoneheart might have not taken note of her had the baby not opened its eyes.
Tully blue. Everyone who knew Lady Stark knew how she disliked Jon Snow. But Lady Stark never went as far as to kill the boy.
Lady Stoneheart had twice the hatred for bastards, even it was of her own flesh and blood. The young lady had not known who Lady Stoneheart had once been.
"Who is she?" cried the pretty lady.
"Lady Stoneheart," intoned the men.
"She once was the mother of the Young Wolf and the other Stark children," Harwin stated. The lady gaped with fear.
"That's not possible! She died. Everyone said so," spluttered the lady.
"I suggest you go back to your home, mi'lady," warned Harwin. Lady Stoneheart made a noise that should have been a snarl or a sound of disgust. Pointing a knarled and scarred finger she spoke one word,
"Bastard."
"Lady Stoneheart knows who the father of the child is," translated Harwin. The lady tried to bolt as she realized she would not receive aid or pity from Lady Stoneheart. There were shouts of men rummaging her things, which made the girl very distressed. They had found inside a chest filled with foreign vials of various substances, books, and strewn old pieces of parchment. There was mutterings of witchcraft to varying degrees of fear and curiousity.
"And just what is a 'simple lass' doing with such objects and traveling north? With the bastard child of the Young Wolf?" questioned Harwin.
"I love him. She made him leave me for that-"
Some days later, Robb had returned from a ride through the Wolfswood and Winter Town. He had just left the stables with Grey Wind at his side, when the grey direwolf growled and ran off with such urgency. Robb ran after Grey Wind when a cold rush of dread hit him. Margaery. He followed Grey Wind's snarls and footprints in the snow to the Great Keep. Robb unsheathed Ice as he raced to Margaery's solar.
Brienne Tarth's loud voice rang through the corrider,
"This completely inappropriate, you cannot come in here disturbing the Queen. I have told you, you cannot see His Grace without an audience. Get out of Her Grace's private quarters." An intruder or an assassin. Robb rushed through the doorway. Brienne's body was blocking Robb's view of the intruder. Grey Wind had put himself in front of Margaery who was holding Eddard in his arms baring his teeth and growling as he did around untrustworthy people. Margaery was staring at the intruder with extreme annoyance and loathing.
They have come to kill my wife and my children.
"Get away from them or I will have you executed this instant," roared Robb. The music of the Rains of Castamere and Grey Wind's warning growls around the Freys rang through his head. I won't let anyone else harm my family. "Now!"
Robb strode to face the intruder at Grey Wind's side standing protectively in front of his pregnant wife and their young son. Robb's eyes widened in shock and surprise yet he did not lower Ice an inch. It was not a man as he had expected. It was a young disheveled woman with chestnut curls and a heart shaped face with a look of love and fear as her brown eyes took in the sight of him. Jeyne.
Robb was conscientious of his wife behind him and the thought of word spreading of Jeyne's unannounced arrival to Winterfell. The assumptions would be made and his shame of lying with another girl other than his wife though it had been before he was married made Robb greatly annoyed. Grey Wind circled Jeyne growling lowly.
"What are you going here, Jeyne?" questioned Robb but his eyes landed on blankets that Jeyne clutched to her. A small head of brown hair poked out of the blankets. It can't be. I made sure she was given tansy and moon tea. But the blasted child turned its head and revealed Tully blue eyes.
Fuck.
"Oh Robb! I meant no harm. I was desperate to see you. I thought-"
"You thought you would find Robb here so you can show him your bastard child and seek a place here," cut in Margaery in the harshest tone Robb had ever heard her speak in. Robb cringed at Jeyne's tone of familiarity. Margaery's tone was chillingly like his lady mother's voice had been when she spoke of the supposed woman Eddard Stark had lain with that resulted in Jon. Despite any pity Robb felt for Jeyne Westerling and his bastard child, it did not keep him from ensuring his wife and his heir's position was upheld.
"Lady Brienne, please have Lady Jeyne escorted to Winter Town and be given a room at the inn," ordered Robb dismissively not sparing a glance at Jeyne. Brienne nodded and forcefully tugged Jeyne along. Giving her a chamber invited an idea of permanency at Winterfell and he could not have word reach his wife's family of him allowing a noble girl and his bastard housed doors away from their Margaery and her son.
"Robb please! Don't turn me away! Please for Gwyn! Look she has your eyes. I love you! I know you love me too!" Ignoring her calls that echoed in through the corridor, Robb turned his back and faced his Margaery and their prince. Margaery handed their squirming son to Robb. Margaery glared at the door stroking her rounded stomach.
"I can tell that stupid cow wants to displace me. She wants you to set Eddard and I aside for her sickly child and her. Did you notice that brat did not make a sound at all? I thought she was a mad woman carrying a dead child until it moved," snapped Margaery. She mimicked Jeyne's high pitched shrilly voice,
"I'm Lady Jeyne Westerling! I need to see King Robb! Oh Robb, I love you!" Returning to her normal voice. "Who does she think she is blatently mooning after you in front of me?"
Robb bent down to kiss his angry queen to show that he wanted no other woman other than her. When they broke apart, Margaery stood up and picked up Ice and pointed it at his lower region.
"If that girl and her bastard ever comes back here and if you dare make a fool out of me. I swear Robb Stark I will make sure the both of you rue the day you were born." Robb nodded and kissed Eddard's forehead. Jeyne Westerling had a shy prettiness that he had once found sweet but she had nothing on the complexity of vanity, shrewdness, ambition, fierceness, and a kind heart that made up Margaery Tyrell. Robb was a tad biased but he firmly believed no woman looked more enticing with child or whilst jealously angry. He could feel verbal tirade coming from her at moment.
"Is it not time for Eddard's nap, sweetheart? I want a nap in a bed of roses right now." Margaery glowered at him as if now was not the time to have sex. Robb gave Eddard to the wet nurse whose name Robb could never remember. Robb debated whether to marry off Jeyne to some minor lord who had a keep far away from Winterfell or a lowly knight from the Riverlands who did not mind raising his bastard or just banishing her from the North and the Trident altogether. He felt pity for the injustice the poor child would face like Jon had. He was really irritated by Jeyne and her behaviour. No proper lady would behave in such a manner to a married man and in front of his pregnant wife and his child.
But Robb 'napped' in a bed of roses after Margaery simmered down. Well not entirely, her 'thorns' have scratched me. He had felt them when he rolled on his back after he had finished panting. Margaery curled up against him peppering him with kisses on his chest.
"My beautiful rose, my clever queen, my lovely wife, my sweetheart, my love," he murmured as he peered down at Margaery all rosy and radiant in his arms wrapped in their fur coverlets. Her large brown eyes looked up at him happily. He kissed her hair and her nose. Such a possessive little rose you are.
"I love you my wolf."
Jeyne had cried in her bed at the inn in Winter Town. It all went wrong. The tall unnatural woman had escorted her to the town and made sure she had a room for Jeyne and her daughter Gwyn. The Queen keeps unnatural women around her. She must be unnatural herself. But Robb had burst into her solar with a mad look of fear and love…No he is trapped it was out of duty. It had gone all wrong ever since she encountered the Brotherhood without Banners. She had niggling feeling she had been followed by the old white woman despite the man allowing her to flee.
They had destroyed almost of the contents in the chest. Thankfully I managed to flee with it before that awful Lady Stoneheart burned it.
Margaery Tyrell was cold and regal in her airs and manners. How could he be happy with someone so frigid? Her large brown eyes flashed dangerously at Gwyn. She looked at Jeyne with a look of disdain and dark mirth. Jeyne felt dirty and plain in her dirty travelling clothes standing before Margaery's fine grey gown and furs. Jeyne imagined the diadem on Margaery's head had golden gems of seashells not roses and Robb protecting Jeyne. Jeyne had cringed that Margaery Tyrell's son looked just like Robb with red hair and blue eyes. The boy was moons younger than Gwyn yet he was robust, bigger and chatty. The way the child squealed at the sight of Robb… Jeyne imagined that he was her son but the boy clutched to his mother for comfort as Robb shouted at Jeyne. That awful wolf, it should not be allowed indoors.
Before the frightening wolf and Robb had burst in, Margaery had made biting remarks about the bruises on Jeyne's neck that she tried to hide with her hair. Jeyne had forced herself not to cry in shame. Jeyne had quickly run out of coin in a matter of a week after leaving home. Jeyne refusing to go back to the Crag to her mother's smug gloating.
She had met a man named Rolfe who was decent and for some reason did not mind going along with pretending to be man and wife. He was a man of a northern noblewoman named Lady Barbery Dustin was travelling the Kingsroad. Lady Dustin had been greatly amused that Ned Stark's son had followed his example and fathered a bastard. Lady Dustin had sympathized with Jeyne though she laughed and warned her she would have to fight more than just Margaery Tyrell to become King Robb's wife.
"I am surprised to see you. I thought you and the king shared a great love," mocked the man stripping out of his cloak. Jeyne glared at him.
"He does love me! We do share a great love worthy of a thousand songs! It is his wife's fault!" retorted Jeyne hotly. She refused to blame Robb for her fall into disgrace.
"Milady, you have a pretty face but you are not worth the trouble losing a kingdom for. Come with me back to my keep its no castle but its warm enough. I'll make an honest woman outta you by getting married and all. I'll take your daughter as my own and we'll make our own. We likely we already have since you let me have you more than once every night and morning." Jeyne recalled her jealously of Margaery's rounded stomach and adoration from the smallfolk for the little Rose Queen she had heard from the Riverlands to Winter Town.
They are all blind.
"But I loved him first. Robb Stark was mine first." How could someone so handsome and brave take what she given him and leave her? Jeyne looked at the box she had stole from her lady mother as Rolfe began to removed his wet boots.
I want her and her children dead. Once she is dead, I'll nurse him from his grief and he will see that he was wrong to not come back for me.
"Aye, but people here say the Young Wolf loves his Rose Queen greatly. She doesn't sit around stitching all day either. She killed Lords Walder Frey and Roose Bolton. Chopped off the Kingslayer's sword hand herself. Imagine what she would do to you and your daughter if you try to take her crown? You are going to be up against not just the Queen but her family as well. They are the now the wealthiest of the great houses. Do you really think he is likely to forgive you or marry you should something happen to his wife and son. If you love him truly then let the young man go, he has lost his father and mother." Jeyne turned away from him.
"You are just saying this because you want me. I am not afraid of her. I have ways of destroying her that need no sword. I can be a better wife and a better queen than she is." Rolfe laughed.
"Does that direwolf of the King's like you as much as it likes the Queen?" No, it wanted to attack me and Gwyn. What does that matter?
A young woman in servant's drab and a small skinny boy with a long face stood outside the door of Lady Jeyne Westerling's room, listening to a man and woman speak about the King and the Queen in the North. The boy had a murderously face and wanted nothing more than to burst in there and stick the "lady" with the pointy end.
"She threatened Margaery and our nephew's lives." The taller one nodded and adjusted her hood to ensure her bright hair was out of sight.
"We can't stay long, Arya. Gilly can't cover for us all night." Arya nodded and motioned for them to sit and wait for the man and woman to finish and leave the room. They will want supper soon. Arya and Sansa had been curious about the strange woman and her baby insisting on seeing their brother. Sansa had heard the woman as she was dragged down the corridor by Brienne. Brienne had apologized for not practising with Arya citing she had to go to Winter Town's inn. So the Stark sisters and Nymeria snuck out of Winterfell with the help of the equally curious Gilly. Sansa touched Arya's wrist and gestured to the stairs. The man was dressed in all black around thirty five and had a hooked nose. He and Lady Jeyne came down the stairs asking for a hot meal. They waited until they were seated before slipping back upstairs to find Nymeria who was hidden in the shadows of the dimly lit corridor.
"What are we looking for?" asked Sansa as they broke into the room.
"A weapon that is not a sword," answered Arya carefully scanning the room and rummaging through the contents of the room. She had rummaged through the room finding nothing out of the ordinary.
"Look, Arya. She has a chest of vials and strange objects," whispered Sansa urgently from the other side of the room. Arya leapt over the bed and peered at the contents of the chest. The scripture on the old parchment were not in the Common Tongue. Arya could tell it was not High Valyrian either. Essosi.
"She is a witch." Sansa gasped at her sister's words.
"How are we going to get this out of here and destroy it? I can't hide this under my dress." Arya racked her head for a plan but Nymeria's warning growl made the girls whip around. Lady Jeyne Westerling stood alone in the doorway with a look of outrage and fear.
"Who are you and what are you doing in my room? Put down my things. I am a lady and will have your hands for thievery." Sansa smiled a harsh yet pretty smile and pulled her hood down revealing her Tully red hair.
"We are Starks of Winterfell and the sisters to the King in the North. I am the Lord Theon Greyjoy's wife. My sister and I will taking this chest and showing it to our brother King Robb." Arya laughed as Lady Jeyne's eyes widened in shock and increasing fear.
"We heard everything you said. You threatened our sister and our nephew. I'd run back to where ever you came from or take that man's offer. You are the stupidest person I have ever seen. Robb does not care for you or love you." Nymeria growled at Jeyne who backed up against the wall crying.
"You are lying! She sent you here didn't she? I love him! He loves me. He won't believe a word you tell him." Arya rolled her eyes and closed the chest and was about to leave the room. "You aren't leaving with that! Put it down!" Nymeria blocked Jeyne from Arya and Sansa as they hastily exited. "Rolfe! Stop them they are stealing from me!" Sansa took the chest from Arya as the man rose from his seat in the dining hall. The dining hall quieted.
"Give back the lady's things and no harm will come to you."
"No but I can promise harm shall befall you for threatening Starks of Winterfell." Arya brandished her sword. It wasn't Needle but it would suffice. "She threatened the lives of our good sister, your good Queen Margaery and Prince Eddard with sorcery. Who will you help us bring her to justice?" There was loud grumblings amongst the patrons.
"I will," called a deep voice and a bull of a man stood up from his seat in the corner. Arya never wanted to punch or hug someone so badly.