Hi! First of all, thank you for the overwhelming response you all have given to this story.

That being said, I am nervous about this chapter. Hope you like it.

Chapter 2

Eddard talked in his sleep. It was the first intimate thing Barbery discovered about him.

She didn't know what woke her. It was still dark, probably before the hour of the wolf, with sunrise probably being hours away. The embers in the fireplace had almost died out. She was about to close her eyes again, but when she heard him from across her bed she had to sit up.

He mumbled, a guttural moan, yet full of fear, followed by shifting of the fur blanket over stone as he tossed on his makeshift bed. Barbrey's heart started beating faster. "NO!" he called out, loudly this time, and Barbrey threw off the covers and got out of bed.

She lit a candle and rushed to the spot where her husband was sleeping. Eddard was on his back. His face was still hidden in the cover of darkness, but she could hear his shallow breathes. The blanket under him was in tangles while the one that was to cover him lay forgotten in a lump. In his sleep his doublet had moved up, revealing a deep gash.

Her breathe caught in her throat, and Barbrey couldn't take her eyes of it. The cut started from his navel and went up across his torso, clearly a result of a vicious slash from a longsword. The remainder of it was hidden under his doublet. Barbrey wondered how he got it, and how far up it went. It clearly could've healed better; had it been taken care of properly.

It was war. Barbrey reminded herself. She didn't understand war. Nor did she ever want to. War is something that makes corpses out of loved ones, and leaves deep scars, on the minds and the bodies. That was all she ever needed to know. What better example of it than her husband? War is abhorrent, and she didn't care if she was out of depth with it for all her life.

He had always been on the move the last year, from battle to battle. From what Barbrey had found out, her husband had fought at the Trident. He had saved Stony Sept, King's Landing, and then Storm's End. Then he had ridden to Dorne to save his sister, instead of seeing Robert coronated. How could he have found time to patch the wound properly.

Eddard gave out another fevered shout and woke up. The frenzy with which he rose took Barbrey aback. His eyes were wide in terror. But then he found her standing above him and his expression changed. They looked at each other. Barbrey's throat was very dry all of a sudden.

"Water?" She managed to ask.

Eddard wiped his sweat. "Yes," he replied.

Barbrey made her way to the pitcher. She filled a tumbler and brought it to him. "I am sorry," she felt compelled to say, when he started drinking. "I heard you and had to check if you are fine. I didn't mean..." Eddard nodded and raised his hand to assure her. "Understandable," he said, when the tumbler was empty.

"How are you?"

"I'll be fine." He said, in a tone that hardly convinced her.

"You should lie down...Eddard. Sleep will come soon enough."

"You are kind my lady," he said, , his voice hoarse. "But there will be no sleep for me. Not today."

"How can you know?"

"These nightmares are not new. I have seen Father and Brandon die many times in my dreams. Now Lya too has joined them." he shuddered. "But that isn't the worst part. The worst part is waking up, and realizing that all of it is real." His didn't speak more after that.

Barbrey's heart quivered. All she could do at that moment, was spread out the tangled blanket lying there and sit down beside him. She took one of his hands and held it in hers. "Is there something I can do," she asked.

Eddard looked at her. "You have already given me water my lady. Without me even asking." He smiled. A weak smile, yet Barbrey found it refreshing. She rose up, his hand still in hers.

"Come with me," she said.

His face turned inquisitive. "Where are we going," he asked.

"To the balcony." she stated. "Yes, this chamber has a balcony. Behind those curtains." He rose, and Barbrey led the way for him. She pulled the curtains and opened the doors, and shivered as the crisp night air hit her.

"Hope you don't mind the cold," she said.

"Do not worry my lady," he spoke. "I am a Stark. We are made for the cold." A memory of Brandon popped in her head, which she pushed back duly.

Their chamber was on the topmost floor. Except for the sentry flames no other light was burning. The full moon shone bright on the splendid scenery in front of them, the sprawling meadows of the Rills. "I thought we could use some fresh air and a new scenery. The air was so heavy inside." Barbrey said. "It may not appear much at the moment, but in sunlight nothing beats this view. The meadows go on and on. There is green grass everywhere, and when it will get warmer flowers will cover them, clovers and junipers and lilies, sunflowers and goldenrods, and many others. My own chamber has the same view."

"It's beautiful," Eddard said, his hand still in hers. He was watching the meadows with fascination. "I envy you, my lady. Winterfell doesn't have a view like this."

"Oh," Barbrey said. "Tell me then. What can you see from the Winterfell balconies?"

"There are moors all around," Eddard appeared to be thinking hard, perhaps trying to paint a vivid picture. "To the West there is the Wolfswood, where trees grow thick. The best thing is the Godswood, the Heart Tree." He shook his head, giving up. "Whatever Winterfell has, it cannot match this. I wish I could spend more time here."

"We can always visit later," she said. "My mother would like it."

"Just your mother," now he was looking at her. She could feel his interest.

"My brothers are both dolts. You can try to befriend them, but I suggest you look for better companions. And my father, well, you know how it is."

He nodded. "I will keep that in mind. Your father has invited me to join him and Roose Bolton to ride through the meadows tomorrow."

Barbrey didn't like that at all. "How about you go with me," she heard herself say, a little too ardently. "My father will bore you to death. I can show you things there, that I think you'd like."

Eddard smiled. "Yes, I'd like that," he said. "I will tell your father to find something else to do tomorrow. Him I can tolerate, but Roose Bolton I can't." A breeze was blowing through their balcony, wafting the faint scent of the meadows to them. Barbrey watched as Eddard closed his eyes and breathed in deep. The sight made her feel warm inside.

"What," he asked, when he caught her looking.

"It is good to see you happy," she said. Eddard snorted. Clearly, he liked the comment.

"How was the view in the Eyrie?" She asked after a pause.

"The Eyrie?" he considered his words. "I used to like the mountains at the start. But with time they started making me nauseous. They rise too high, and you have to risk your neck every time you make that climb."

"Well that's disappointing. I really wanted to visit." Barbrey said.

"We can visit if you want," Eddard assured her. "The mountains are beautiful. Gulltown is also a place worth visit. Blue skies, and ocean all around. It...it takes half a week from White Harbor, and now we have a ship of our own. And after that a two-day trek to the Eyrie. I can visit Jon, and you can see the mountains,"

"Yes," she said softly. "I'd like that." She was smiling freely after a long time. She gave his hand a squeeze.

Eddard felt the squeeze, and something changed in his look. Suddenly he was looking at her in a whole new light. And the way he was doing it was heating up Barbrey's cheeks and making her stomach flutter. She watched, mesmerized, as he came closer. His other hand moved to touch and caress her cheek, and he leaned and kissed her forehead. His lips were moving down, and she was moving up to reach them. Her eyes had closed. The moment was perfect, but her mind screamed that it had to be interrupted.

She opened her eyes. "Eddard...Ned," she heard herself say.

Eddard stopped. He was surprised. "My lady?"

"You remember what you said after the ceremony?"

He looked puzzled now. "I do. We have to. And I think we can."

The whole castle was asleep. She was sure no one was listening. Barbrey wondered how she should approach this. She was scared. "After Brandon and William, I really want us to be happy, for both our sakes. I don't want us to fizzle out and then hate each other forever."

Although Eddard was confused he sensed the seriousness in her voice. He stepped back a bit. "Say what you mean, my lady."

She could not find any way around it. Turning her eyes stoic, she asked him. "Is the boy Lyanna's?"

The effect was instant. Eddard's eyes lost all their warmth. He tried to free his hand which Barbrey held on to it fiercely. He glared at her, but she didn't flinch. Her eyes stayed on him, unwavering.

She already had the answer. But she needed to hear it from him. "No one is listening to us, I assure you. You have to tell me the truth. I deserve it. "

He didn't speak. "You can trust me Eddard," she almost pleaded. And then abruptly he turned and walked inside, but he didn't let go of Barbrey's hand. He was pulling her inside.

He closed the balcony door, as if afraid that someone was listening. He turned towards her. "I have to protect him," he whispered fiercely. "I promised her. You understand? If Robert finds out.."

"He will not," urged Barbrey. "Would you have ever told me?" She asked.

"I don't think I would have," he replied. "All it would take is one whisper, for Robert to come. You know how he feels about the Targaryens. Tywin Lannister butchered Rhaegar's wife and children, and Robert didn't even flinch when they brought forward the bodies."

Barbrey was numb. "Why did they kill Elia?" She managed to ask.

"They didn't just kill her," Eddard said. "They raped her first."

Eddard took a seat on the bed, finally letting go of her hand. "That's vile," was all Barbrey could utter. The thought of two children being killed brutally merely for political gains sickened her to the core. Also the Prince's wife, who had to pay for her husband's crimes. And to think that another child would bear the same fate if the truth spills out.

No. I wouldn't have it.

Barbrey turned towards him. "We will raise him well. He will be safe with us." She shuddered. "Gods! Eddard! I can't even imagine...I feel so sorry for your sister. For what he did to her."

Eddard looked up at her. "But you are wrong my lady. Lyanna went willingly," he said sadly. "She loved him, and he loved her. He...married her. So the child.."

Her stomach dropped. He didn't need to speak the words for her to understand. So the child is not a bastard. He is a dragon, the last of the dragons. That is our death we will be raising, if anyone finds out. She wondered why had the room gone so cold? Had they left the door open? Or was it her?

"Who else knows?"

"Howland Reed. And the midwife who worked there," said Eddard.

"Nothing will happen to the child. I promise you." She said, "This will stay between us. And if someone tells Robert and he comes, then...then we will call the whole North to fight him. Rills, Barrowton, Dreadfort, Flints, they will surely answer Winterfell's call, so will the others eventually. That will show them, that we don't hurt children in the North."

She sat down beside him. He was looking at her gratefully. "I shouldn't have doubted you," he said. "But I wasn't sure."

"Now you are," she said. "You said that we had to start, and thought that calling you 'Ned' would do it. I'd say that revealing this to me, is a much better start, don't you think?"

From what she saw on his touched face, he seemed to agree. "Aye, Lady Barbrey. I..I think we should try to get some sleep now."

"It is just Barbrey for you," she told him. "Please sleep on the bed Eddard, not the floor. We both need proper rest for tomorrow."

They lay down together. Perhaps Eddard was feeling lighter after their 'conversation', for she soon heard his rhythmic breathing as he went to sleep. She took to her side. She needed sleep too. That would make her think clearer.

The next day they woke up late, Barbrey later than Eddard. When Eddard told her father that he'd be riding with Barbrey instead he looked ready to revolt. "But my lord, you leave tomorrow. There is much to be discussed."

"Can't I borrow my husband for one leisurely ride Father," Barbrey came beside him and said sweetly. She was in her riding attire like Eddard. "When else will we get a chance?"

"I agree with my wife," Eddard seconded, stern and unamicable to her father. "Whatever you wish to discuss, it can be done later. Or through letters." Her father almost cowered in front of Eddard's gaze. But at his side Roose Bolton merely stared at them with a surreptitious expression. "Perhaps you both can visit me and Domeric later my lord. The boy is so eager to talk to his aunt."

Barbrey cringed inside. She still had to get used to the pale Lord of Dreadfort. "Looking forward to it Lord Bolton," Eddard said.

They rode side by side through the castle courtyard and out from the back gates. Eddard was riding his war destrier, while Barbrey was riding her own horse that had been with her for years. In front of them sprawled the western meadows. When they were far enough Eddard turned to her. "You seem very happy." He queried.

"It is a beautiful day Eddard," she said. "And you ordering my father around has made it even more beautiful."

Eddard snorted. "I will make it a point to do it more then. Just tell me when to stop. Don't want to overdo it."

"Oh I never will. Trust me." Barbrey put her horse into a trot. "Come on, keep up" she urged, and rode away in a gallop. Eddard followed suit, riding hard to keep up with her. He looked to be a good rider, but she was better. Grass and flowers rose all around them. They galloped past pools of water and trees, wild horses and sheep, the wind whistling past them.

But the fun had to end. When the grass grew too thick they decided to slow down. It was breezy that morning. "What did you want to show me here," he asked, his hair billowing in the wind.

"The meadows mostly, what you are already seeing around you," she admitted. "I just didn't want you to come here with those men, speaking of politics and favors and whatnot. I have fond childhood memories of this place. I wanted you to have good memories as well."

Eddard laughed at that, and Barbrey smiled. What she had said to him was true in a way. The reality was she could have shown him many things, but all of them had some memory of Brandon for her, which she didn't want to revisit.

But then she noticed something different, and dismounted.

"Come to think of it, I do have something to show you. Over here." She called him to her.

Eddard dismounted and joined her. "What are we looking at, Barbrey," he asked curiously. They were standing side by side.

"Something fascinating Eddard. Look carefully," she urged. They were looking at a patch of land, where some plants were blooming, while some were dying, and the remaining were dead and in decay. "I have spent the last few months in the Rills, ever since I got news of William's death. These meadows were my companion in my solitude and my grief. And during this time, I noticed this." Barbrey explained.

"All these small plants, they don't live for more than two years, and belong in different times of the season. Their seeds sleep for years until their time comes. By the time some plants start blooming, the others have already died and have made way for them. And so it goes, the circle of life. But here they are together." She pointed at where a dead honeycup bush, a newly blooming ladytupel bush, and in midst of them, withered yet alive juniper plants. "You can see it throughout the lands. They are supposed to grow in different seasons. But here they are forming and dying at the same time. Have you ever seen something like this?"

"I don't know much about plants my lady," Eddard replied.

"Neither do I. It is something I noticed, a flaw in natural order," she said. "Something went different, to bring about all this. Can you guess what?"

Eddard only took a few moments to respond. "The false spring."

Barbrey beamed at him. "Yes! When it started getting warmer spring flowers thought that their time had come. They were halfway through their blooom, when the war began and the cold came again, and they couldn't compete with the autumn flowers which started to grow with the cold."

"And suddenly it got warm again in a year, so the now autumn plants had to compete with the spring bloomers again, except this time they lost. Imagine how baffled these bushes must be. Nothing would have made sense for them, as it didn't for us." She paused and looked at Eddard, who had been listening to her intently.

"There was a war going on here as well last year. These tiny plants were warring against each other, because the Gods decided to play a joke. Don't you think?" She asked him.

Eddard snorted, but his eyes turned sad. "Sure seems like it my lady."

"And there is another memento of the False spring." A few feet away, a large bush of blue winter roses had started flowering. What Barbrey was pointing at however, were the dead branches, crisscrossing the living ones. "They were flowering before last year, thinking spring has come after five years of winter and all will be good. But then the cold came again, and the blue roses withered and died."

Eddard's eyes stayed on the dead branches. Barbrey continued. "But look now, spring has truly arrived. and new winter roses are growing, again, as if nothing happened. Have you ever seen the circle of life writ so small?"

She looked to him for a response but didn't get any. Instead Eddard walked to the bush. He brought out a hand and touched the flowers. Barbrey thought he would pluck one, but he didn't. He just stared at them, with an expression of longingness that Barbrey didn't understand. "These were Lya's favorite." He finally uttered. "She always used to wear them in her hair."

And suddenly Barbrey's heart became heavy. Eddard turned and smiled brightly at her. "You have a keen eye my lady. There are lessons to be learned here."

"I am sorry Eddard," Barbrey said when he was beside her.

"There is nothing to forgive, Barbrey." He said.

"We should head back now," she said. She didn't feel like staying there more, and she got no argument from him.

They mounted their horses and turned them towards the castle. As they rode back, they found a party of four horsemen riding through the meadows, trailing towards them.

"Who are they," Barbrey asked Eddard. In return he smiled in exasperation.

"Who else has girth like that? That is Lord Manderly," he said. Indeed it was Lord Wyman. Hopefully on a leisurely ride totally unrelated to ours. "I don't think him being out here is a coincidence," Eddard said, extinguishing her hope. "We need to offer them something Barbrey. If there are two persons who are perhaps unhappy with our match, they are Lord Wyman and Lord Halys."

"What!" Barbrey exclaimed. "Why would they be unhappy?"

Eddard looked at her, and explained. "Don't you see. While the alliances forged after our marriage have strengthened the North, they have also left it polarized. It appears that Winterfell has joined up with the Ryswells, the Dustins, and the Boltons, three very powerful houses. Lord Wyman thinks that this new power bloc has left him out. Lord Hornwood feels the same way, more so because his wife is a Manderly. Also, House Hornwood has land disputes with Dreadfort so he feels especially threatened. Why do you think their gifts to us were so expensive Barbrey?"

Barbrey reflected on it, and then laughed out loud. "It all makes sense now. But do we need to do anything? Let the man quiver in fear. It is his imagination that is his enemy, no one else. If only he knew that my father would gain nothing from our marriage."

"His fears are not totally unfounded my lady. Alliances are forged by matrimony, as they have been for centuries. House Ryswell has risen up after this match, if you don't mind me saying. Also, the Boltons have never been the most cordial ones to their neighbors, especially the Hornwoods and Widow's Watch. Those who have been left out, they won't fight us, but will certainly want more influence." He stopped talking. They were about to be in the earshot of the party.

Lord Wyman had come out to ride with the stoic Lord Halys Hornwood, and two knights from his household. She could see him grinning, but now she knew that behind that grin was a man who was spooked and afraid.

"Lord Stark! Lady Stark!" he exclaimed. "How splendid to find you both here! I thought you would be in the castle with Lord Roger and Roose Bolton. Didn't you three have plans to ride together?"

"Good morrow, my lord and lady," greeted Lord Hornwood, honest and plain.

"We did Lord Manderly. But our plans changed. I decided to ride with my wife instead. Glad we found you here, but I'm afraid we'd be returning now." Eddard said. Their horses had stopped in front of each other.

"Oh are you? Allow us to escort you then my lord," said Lord Wyman. Eddard gave her a knowing look which made her smirk.

"Why did the plans change," asked Lord Wyman as they rode back together.

"I was responsible for that Lord Wyman. I know how dull their company is. So I decided to save my husband from them."

Lord Wyman's eyes twinkled wildly. "Oh you did, didn't you? Excellent! Excellent! I see that your new marriage becomes you both. I have always said, the relation between a man and a wife is the most important of them all. What do you think Lord Halys?" He asked his quiet companion.

"A man should be most faithful to his wife. Rest can come afterwards." From what she could tell, the good Lord Hornwood actually meant it.

"Indeed," Lord Wyman spoke again. "Conjugal relations are the most important ones. That is how the world should be."

"It isn't however." Barbrey stated, wanting nothing more to derail the Fat Lord off his swagger. "In our world marriages are for alliances, to strengthen ourselves and leave others out." She smiled sweetly at the Fat man. "Aren't they Lord Wyman?"

Either Lord Wyman didn't notice the less than subtle cheek in her voice, or just refused to acknowledge it. "Indeed they are. But not always my lady. Take the Free cities for instance. In Bravos, Tyrosh and Myr the guilds and banks often come together based on shared interests, and these pacts don't require marriages. Their bonds are placed above everything else, because they are far more rational. What do you think my lord?"

Eddard's even voice again got that tinge of irritation. "We are not the Free cities my lord."

"We certainly are not. But the logic remains, universal as it is. I am sure my lord and lady will find virtue in what I am saying. Our real allies," Lord Wyman's voice had suddenly gotten very bold, "should be the ones who can provide us the most benefit. And the sea holds far more promise than land. Speaking of which, did you get a chance to read the books I gave you?" He was looking at them both.

"Not yet, my lord. We only received them yesterday after all."

"What is in them my lord," Barbrey asked.

Lord Wyman smiled, not the quixotic smile she had associated him with, but the smile of a shrewd tactician. "Oh nothing much. Just a plan, to make the North more prosperous of all the Seven Kingdoms."

A few things.

Barbrey Dustin is a character not very well developed in the books. She is intelligent, she cares for her subjects, and she clearly has a moral compass. But it is her bitterness that overshadows everything. I am toning down the bitterness(here she hasn't sat on her bad memories for one and a half decade) and am filling in the blanks to make a realistic likeable character as the story's protagonist. But feel free to say that Barbrey is OOC.

I have focused on Ned/Barbrey relation and will continue to do that throughout the story. I am trying to get better as a writer. Your reviews will help a lot.