Highgarden and its surroundings are swarmed with soldiers. Eddard would marvel at it was he not more concerned about Lyanna, the war, his own wife and child and many more. Brandon, as is his custom is already swearing up and down that he will slay the Mad King and the Stag he'd rip the throat of. And as always Eddard keep hi silence, allowing himself to be lost in Brandon's shadow. It is a habit hard to break. Brandon was Lord of Winterfell, Eddard received it by chance, by his brother's own folly. But before he can lose himself in such thought, Eddard remembers Lyanna.
Or rather he sees his sister at the gate, joined by Benjen and her oldest son, Jon. Their father is the first to pull her in his arms. It is a brief show of affection, as Rickard has never been comfortable with showing his feelings, not even to his children. Brandon, by contrast, sweeps his sister off her feet. Taller than Eddard, he has Lyanna hovering off the ground for a few moments. Finally when he reaches her Lyanna gives him an odd smile. It is a sort of mix between her gladness and her sadness. Eddard understand it well.
"I wish the circumstances had been different," she tells him, as Rickard nods approvingly towards Jon and Brandon smiles wolfishly at the child. Jon still exerts a firm hold on Lyanna's hand.
"I've heard you have more than one, sister? Where are the others?" Brandon questions looking about. "Don't tell me the dragons have taken to hiding from the wolves," he teased without malice.
Something like a shadows passes over Lyanna face. The short show of anguish is not missed by Eddard. Yet Lyanna dons a mask of cheer and responds to her oldest brother. "Jon had been assigned to my personal guard. My other boys are guarding the sleeping chambers."
"In other words they slumber!" booms Rickard, releasing a deep, guttural laugh. "Them lads are wee yet, Brandon. At their age you were hardly out yourself." Gray eyes, somewhat warmed, regard Lyanna then. "I'd like to see them too, those other grandsons of mine."
Benjen's mien suddenly turns sullen. Eddard levels a questioning glance to his bother, but the young man gently shakes his head. Lyanna seems to catch on to the silent exchange and glares at Benjen. "Jon, do bring your brothers here, would you?" She pushes the boy forward and a Septa, as if conjured, takes him away. "They were supposed to be four," Lyanna finally manages to say in a quiet voice.
A wave of red assaults Brandon's face at the news, and Eddard feel the way his brother tenses. Lyanna doesn't need to clarify. The heir to Winterfell thinks of his own son. He thinks of Catelyn, and lets it wash over him, the thought of someone harming them. Rhaegar must be a very strong man, Eddard decides, for otherwise he would have gone insane. Just considering the notion makes him feel sick to his stomach. And Lyanna, poor Lyanna, what must she have felt? That Eddard can't, and won't, imagine.
"With my own hands, I've sent you there," Rickard murmurs. All of a sudden he looks older, many years beyond his age. "I cannot ask for your forgiveness, but allow me to avenge this wrong they've done you, daughter."
"There is nothing to forgive," Lyanna replies with a gentleness oddly reminiscent of their mother. "You've done me no wrong, father. My husband is a good man. To him it was that you sent me and that I do not regret. Whatever else happened was out of your hands."
But it hurts no less, Eddard reflects bitterly. Of course Rickard could have not known the Mad King would do what he'd done to his own kin, but the man blamed himself all the same. Yet knowing, on a rational level that he could have done nothing, and the fact that he did not prevent this tragedy does not lessen the pain. With those considerations, Eddard closes his eyes briefly, and thinks that while killing is not something he likes participating in, in this war it is the just thing to do.
The chatter of small children, with their high voices, brings him back. He looks around Brandon to see his oldest nephew leading a younger boy with silver hair and a third one with the same looks at the second following. It becomes clear to him that the one being led cannot see, for he does not turn to look at them as the others, simply stopping when his brother does.
Lyanna looks at them with obvious pride. "As you've already met Jon, I shall introduce my other sons to you now. This is Rhaegon," she tells them, placing her hand affectionately atop the silver tresses of the boy. His purple-gay eyes stare straight ahead. "And this is Aeron." Her other hand is already on the child's head by the time she finishes speaking.
Aeron and Rhaegon look the very same, like two drops of water. Eddard supposed the no one would have been able to tell them apart were it not for Rhaegon's defect. They have taken their appearance from their father, unlike Jon. All of Lyanna's children hold a special sort of charm, and with her standing right behind them, Eddard cannot help but smile. They are a beautiful family.
Rickard clears his throat and greets the boys. None dares comment on Rhaegon's lack of sight. Staring at him, Eddard feels something shifting inside of him. It is not easy to explain, but there is the trace of something grater in those vacant eyes. Almost like despite this infirmity, he does actually see. Not like most people, but he does, or so Eddard finds himself thinking when the boy's eyes stray to Rickard.
Bidding their sister a good day, the sons of Rickard leave for council, behind them staying the father who still has thinks to speak of with his daughter. Eddard finds that his good-brother too seems to have aged formidably. The boy his sister has married is replaced by a man. Ultimately he will become a King. For some reason he does not doubt this man. Aerys might be his father, but the son is nothing like him and that brings joy to Eddard.
They speak of plans, sieges and ambushes. They talk of numbers and rations and victory. They need more than words to win. Eddard looks the man who will lead them into battle and thinks that, should he die, he will have died knowing he'd fought besides worthy men. It is no little thing to be sure of a man's valour, and even rarer is finding a man of such qualities. Even so, Eddard knows that he's found such a man, and he is the better for it.