The Wolf's Howl was not a large ship, which turned out for the better. It's slender frame and a steady wind allowed the ship to cut through the waves like a bird in flight. After picking up Ned the ship began its journey for Eastwatch. The hold carried salt pork, salt cod, salt beef, wheat, barley, cloves and honey, bought and paid for by Yoren, to be delivered to the Night's Watch. It also brought a group of recruits to the Wall, around thirty men and boys, most of which were criminals from the Red Keep's dungeons. All of this was a farce for the ship's true mission; to bring Eddard Stark and his daughter Arya safely from King's Landing to the North.

Other ships passed them frequently, heading for King's Landing, so Ned stayed below deck, hidden away in his cabin. During the day, a small window provided adequate light and by night the captain provided candles and a lantern. There was fresh food at every meal, parchment, ink and a quill, and a bath on request. The first one had been warm water but every one after that was water from the bay. It was tepid at the best of times and left a heavy smell of salt on his skin but it was clean and clear. In short, Ned wanted for nothing, but wanted the one thing he couldn't find aboard this ship or anywhere in the known world; peace.

His dreams were haunted and voices could be heard in every gust of wind; Lyanna, frowning and shaking her head; Arya, tears flowing with abandon, a mixture of anger and hurt; Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur, disappointment written in every line of their faces; Robert, a man that been as much a brother as any of Ned's own kin, now looked at him with such fury he flinched to see it; but the worst of all was Jon. When Jon showed up in Ned's dreams, he had no expression and said nothing, it was as if he was looking straight through him. Gods Lya, I failed him. Robert beggared the realm and still I supported him, and would have continued to do so if he hadn't been murdered. And Arya . . . she may never forgive me.

In the end it had been Varys' words and actions that had saved Ned, yet if it weren't for Jon, he would not have done it. Ned couldn't trust him, but he would never forget who saved him, even if it had been conditionally. And Ice . . . Ned looked at where his sword laid against the wall. Four hundred years and I was almost the Stark who lost it.

"Lord Stark," a voice said from behind him. Ned turned to see Ser Barristan standing in the doorway. "I knocked, several times in truth. I believe we need to talk."

"Aye, I suppose we do. Have a seat." Ned couldn't help but rub his eye. It was still slightly swollen from where Barristan's fist had connected his first night aboard, and it itched something fierce.

Ned had just been returning to his own room from Arya's and Barristan had been waiting at his table. "Did you tell her?" At Ned's nod he continued. "How did she take it?"

"Not well. I didn't expect her to like it, but it was time. She needed to know the meaning of her dream, against my better judgement."

Barristan ground his teeth before speaking. "Yes well, it has been proven your judgement is shaky on a good day."

Ned had been tired and hurt from Arya's words so he reacted poorly. "My judgement! I know another man who served Robert faithfully. At his very side no less. Perhaps you can recall him, ser."

Ser Barristan jumped to his feet and stepped up to Ned. "I didn't know. The fault for that lies solely with you. Remember that, Stark. The realm needed Jon and you left him to join the Night's Watch. If it weren't for Arthur, your head would be piked on the Red Keep's walls where you would have a beautiful view of the realm you failed. Remember that." Barristan started for the door but Ned wouldn't leave it be.

"I did all I could to protect him. Arthur was ready to rekindle the war and let the realm bleed over a babe. I wouldn't do it for your lovesick fool and his mad father."

Barristan turned back, murder clear in his gaze. He stepped forward and hurtled his fist straight into Ned's eye, just below the brow. Ned fell backwards onto his bed. He had expected the dagger at Barristan's hip to come out and make an end of him, but when Ned sat up he was gone.

That had been six days past. Neither Barristan nor Arya would speak to him or even acknowledge him. The old knight was the only one she would speak to anymore. Ned could often hear their two voices drifting through the wall but it was too muffled to tell what they were saying. When Barristan wasn't sleeping or talking with Arya, he would stand guard at her door. Ned appreciated that, despite their enmity towards each other.

"-ahem- Lord Stark, if you would kindly take a seat."

Ned sat opposite Barristan and watched him, keen on not starting the conversation. The man looked somewhat nervous and slightly embarassed, which amused Ned.

"I wanna start by apologizing, my lord. I should not have hit you. It was out of anger and no small amount of wine. Be that as it may, it was out of line and uncalled for."

Any remaining anger Ned may have felt left that instant. "The fault is mine. I should not have spoken of Rhaegar in such a manner. He was a good prince and would've have made a much better king than Robert. He had his flaws like any man, but I have no right to judge him as such. You were right, in all you said. I should never have let Catelyn convince me to send Jon to the Wall. Thank the gods that Ser Arthur had been there to save him from my foolishness."

Barristan visibly relaxed at his words. "Ser Arthur is the best of us. It will be good to serve with a man of honor again, if Jon will have me, of course. I thought the days of knights the like of Arthur Dayne, Lewyn Martell, and Gerold Hightower were done."

"Those days are never done, not so long as you and Arthur still draw breath." Ned gave a slight smile. "There must be other men of honor out there. We'll root them out and swear them to our cause. After all, what is a king without his Kingsguard?"

"Yes, Lord Stark. However few and far between they are, Arthur and myself will find them. I only hope that the king will listen to sound counsel and not hand out white cloaks as favors. A folly that Robert could not be swayed from."

"Jon is not Robert, thank the gods. Now, why did you come, ser? Surely it was not just to apologize for a simple punch."

Barristan shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "You are correct. Not merely an apology, no, but more so to offer assurances. Arya doesn't truly wish you dead in Lyanna's place, of that I am certain. It's just your daughter, she . . . is rather willful, as I'm sure you know. Given time she will forgive you, it may take a few weeks or even a moonturn but eventually she will."

"Thank you Ser Barristan, but if Arya hates me for the rest of my days, I will still come up short of what I deserve. I failed her. I failed Jon. I only hope to make some small amends before I join my forebears in the crypts below Winterfell."

"You will, Lord Stark, you will. One more thing, Repho says we are almost past the Grey Cliffs, we'll arrive at Eastwatch on the morrow. You may want to prep any messages you wish to send, it would be best if we don't linger for long. Yoren will take some time to reach Castle Black, laden with recruits and supplies, but he will make arrangements with the commander of Eastwatch for horses and a small escort."

Ned stood up and nodded solemnly. "We will linger no longer than necessary. If you'll excuse me, I should see about prepping these messages."

"Yes, Lord Stark." Barristan left and took up his post outside Arya's door.

Messages? Where do I even begin? Robb and Cat deserved a letter explaining things, but that was best to be sent from Castle Black. Though whether that was best for himself, or his wife and son, Ned couldn't be certain. There was no need to send word to Jon, they would be at Castle Black soon enough. If all goes well, Jon will announce to the realm of his return and the people will flock to him. Then it came to him. Jon will need the seal of his House. Ned sat at his chair and began composing a letter to Maester Luwin. He gave no reasoning, there was no point, they would all know soon. Jon deserves more from me than some seal. His thoughts went to Ser Barristan and the dirty brown robe the man had taken to wearing. Armor . . . Ned began to write out the order for Mikken. Two sets of steel plate, enameled white with a cloak to match. A third set, enameled black with a red cloak.

Ned rolled up the parchment and set it to the side. A soft knock came from the hallway, giving him a start. "Ser Barristan, come in."

The door swung open to find Arya standing there, biting her lip. "Father," she said without looking at him. "It's me."

Arya . . . Ned felt a twinge of pain in his heart. She stood in the doorway, shuffling her feet and staring at the floor. Dressed in breeches and a leather tunic with a cloak about her, she looked so much like Lyanna. "Arya, come in. Is everything alright?" She stepped in and closed the door behind her, but made no move for the empty chair. Ned stood up but didn't go to her, he wasn't sure if she would want that. "Arya . . ."

Arya looked up with fresh tears leaking down her face. Then she ran and leapt into Ned's arms. He stood stunned for a second before wrapping his arms around her. "I'm sorry, Father. I'm so so sorry."

"Its okay Arya. A few sharp words are a light punishment for allowing Jon to go to the Wall. I deserve much and more."

"Maybe . . . but it wasn't right to wish you dead. I was being stupid." She let go of Ned and sat down at the table. "I had a dream last night. We were back at King's Landing and Joffrey had Ser Ilyn cut your head off. I was right in front of you, but I couldn't move. Then your head yelled at me to run and I screamed and woke up."

"Oh Arya." Ned knelt beside her and took both of her hands in his own. "It was just a dream. We're in the North now, Joffrey and Ser Ilyn can't get us here. On the morrow we'll be at Eastwatch, a few days ride and we'll be at Castle Black."

Arya wiped her eyes and a stubborn look appeared on her face. "I'm still mad at you, you know."

"Aye, I didn't expect otherwise." Ned chuckled, stood and crossed to his own seat. "You are my daughter after all."

Arya stuck out her tongue and smiled. It was good to see her smile at him once more. Ned hadn't been sure he would ever see her smile again. They sat in comfortable silence for awhile, neither one wanting to be the first to speak. Arya began to get impatient though, as the minutes ticked by and the sun set. She started to tap her foot beneath the table and bite her lip, and one time opened her mouth as if to speak, but shut it just as fast. Ned stood and took the taper from the center of the table. He slowly walked around the room and lit all the candles in complete silence. When the candles were lit and Ned was seated once more, he decided to find out what was on his daughter's mind. "Arya, what has you ready to leap from your seat?"

"Jon . . . he has to beat the Lannisters. I know he can. But what if he learns the truth and decides to stay at the Wall anyway?"

Ned pondered for a moment before responding. After being given a second chance he had never thought that Jon would refuse the crown. The Lannisters must be stopped. Left unchecked, they will destroy the realm. Jon will not let the realm die while he sits at the Wall. "He won't," Ned answered finally. "You know him better than I. Do you truly believe for a moment that he would let innocent people suffer? That he would let Sansa remain in the clutches of Cersei?"

Arya flushed and looked down at her feet. "No, it's just . . . being king is hard. Do you know the reason that Jon never visited Winter's town with Robb and Theon?"

"No, I never paid it any mind," he admitted. It did not take Ned long to realize what she meant. He would need to question her later on how it was that she knew about their visits.

"The Wall wasn't Jon's first choice. He wanted to grow to be your captain of the guard, or even to earn knighthood, but one thing remained the same. He said it repeatedly and fervently; he would never father a bastard. He grew up a bastard, your bastard, but no woman would ever have him for a husband, or so he thought, so he resigned himself to the Wall. You will be asking Jon to not only be king, but to marry and have children."

She brought up a good point, Ned could not deny it. With all the worry of how Jon would react and being constantly haunted by his failure, he had never given any thought to Jon's need to marry. The kingdom had several potential suitors that would be a fit match for a king. Jon would need all the swords he could get. The might of the North could not defeat the other six kingdoms. They would fight to the last for a king they believed in though, and it was Ned's job to get the North to believe in Jon. Marriage can come later, he decided. "Jon is a man grown, and as king he will have to learn to rule. His marriage will be one of his own choosing, likely to join another kingdom to his cause. It is best not to worry over such trivial things. The questions will only serve to drive us mad, and the answers lay at Castle Black."

"Yes, Father," she answered tightly.

Ned crossed to Arya and knelt to look into her eyes. "Jon is our kin, but he will also be our king. He is a man grown, and it is not for us to tell him whom to marry. That is not to say he will have it easy, it will be hard on the best of days, and I shudder to think what it will be like on the worst. We can advise Jon, but it is up to him to make these decisions. It is getting late, you had best get some rest, we are not long for Eastwatch and there will be no featherbeds on the road to Castle Black."

Arya bit her lip and nodded, but made no move to leave. "Father," she said in a voice so soft it was almost a whisper. "May I sleep here tonight?"

Ned opened his mouth to decline but the words caught in his throat. This was his daughter, and after so long locked in the blacks cell, then to be reunited, only for the truth to drive them apart once more, Ned didn't have the heart to send her away. "Yes, you may. But first go and tell Ser Barristan to take your room for the night. It will be a cold hard ride to Castle Black and we had all best be well rested." Arya nodded once more and walked from the room. Ned laid in bed and closed his eyes, yet sleep eluded him.

The door opened, and the bed dipped slightly as Arya climbed up. Another long restless night, Ned knew. He only hoped that she would be able to sleep. Ned felt a slender arm snake around his waist, and a face press against his back. He grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. It was the first night in a long time that his dreams weren't plagued by his many failures.

The ship made port at Eastwatch three hours past dawn. They had next to nothing but the clothing on their backs and a few assorted weapons, so the captain gave them his farewells and sent them ashore while his crew began unloading the hold.

"Lord Stark!" a gruff voice called out from on the ship. Yoren appeared behind them with Gendry in tow, a bedroll tucked beneath one arm, his bulls head helm beneath the other. "Take the boy. He'll be more use to you than on the Wall."

"At last we spoke, you seemed adamant on keeping the boy. Why the sudden change in heart?"

Yoren spat. "Boy's too soft, wouldn't last a week on the Wall." Gendry looked as if he was going to protest, but decided better of it and just stared at his feet.

Ned smiled, despite himself. "As you say. Thank you again Yoren, for everything."

"It was nothing, Lord Stark. You have done much for the Night's Watch, I only repaid the favor." The two men shook hands, then Yoren walked back onto the ship, yelling at his recruits.

"Can you ride, Gendry?" Ned asked.

"No, m'lord," he answered, not looking up.

Ned stepped forward and laid a hand on the boy's arm, prompting Gendry to look up. Gods, he looks just like Robert. "You're a big lad. I'm sure you'll learn fast." Ned looked him straight in the eyes. "Do you want to come with us?"

"Yes, m'lord," the boy answered immediately, though he sounded unsure. Ned decided it was not the best time to question him, so he just nodded and began walking down the dock.

Cotter Pyke was a lean and hard man, a bastard from the Iron Islands, with a rough speech that left no question of that. He awaited them at the end of the dock with a Maester beside him. "Lord Stark," Cotter said as they approached. "The Lord Commander expects you at once."

"Yes, we shall be leaving as soon as possible. I have urgent business at Castle Black." The man looked at Ned with open disdain, but Ned cared not; the man would do him no harm.

"Mormont said as much." Cotter grunted. "Harmune'll see to the arrangements. I've got supplies to store." He turned to the Maester. "Best get to it. The sooner this lot is gone, the better."

With that he was gone, striding past Ned towards The Wolf's Howl. The Maester stepped forward and offered his hand, which Ned shook firmly. "You honor Eastwatch with your presence, Lord Stark. Cotter is just worried of the repercussions for Yoren's actions, as is the Lord Commander. If you'll follow me." Harmune was not an old man, likely not even past his fiftieth nameday. He was short and slight, but straight-backed and strong, with a kind face. The red tint to his face marked him as a man drunk more oft than not, but he spoke his words clearly and never stumbled. He led them towards the stables where twelve horses stood ready for travel. "Two for each of you, plus two for each of your escort. Can the girl ride? We can saddle ponies if needs be, but it will slow your journey considerably."

"I can ride," Arya said stubbornly.

The Maester smiled and nodded. "This one's a real she-wolf, no doubt. Each horse has the supplies needed for your journey. Alyn and Torell are two of Eastwatchs' finest rangers, they'll have you to Castle Black in under a week."

Two men stepped forward from within the stables. Both were tall and lean, with hard eyes, thick hair and bushy beards. One of them had hair as dark as soot, the other's was the same shade of brown as Ned's. They inclined their heads in unison and said, "m'lord."

Ned nodded at each of them and turned back to Harmune. "Thank you, Maester. There is one other thing I would ask of you." Ned pulled the letter for Maester Luwin from his pocket and handed it to Harmune. "If you would send this on to Winterfell, I would be grateful."

"Of course, my lord." Harmune bowed. "I will see to it now. These men will leave at your convenience, though I believe it best for you to be gone before Cotter gets back. He is deep in his cups and in a foul mood, as you saw."

"Aye, I noticed. We will not be long, just have to show the boy here how to sit a horse." The Maester bowed once more and walked off towards the rookery.

It took half an hour for Gendry to be able to sit his horse without falling. The boy was flushed and frustrated by the time he could keep his seat. Arya had laughed loudly each time he fell. Ned scolded her, while also keeping the grin that threatened off his own face. But finally he was able to ride and they all departed. The path followed along the Wall for a while, then it curved out into the forest. The horses maintained a canter for the first few hours as Gendry grew accustomed to the faster pace. Once he was, they kicked the horses into a gallop that lapped up the miles. Gendry never complained once as they darted between giant grey-green sentinels and huge pines that littered the ground beneath them with needles. The sun went down and the pace had to be slowed to a canter once more. They swapped horses in the dead of night and continued on. By the hour of the wolf, Arya and Gendry fell asleep in their saddles, slumped down against their horses neck, but still they pressed on. Ned was wide awake, loving everything around him, things he had never imagined being able to see or feel again; the trees, the cool air blowing through his hair, and riding a horse through the wolfswood, just to name a few. He finally fell asleep just before dawn.

Six days of hard riding and Castle Black loomed ahead, an anthill against the Wall. They had camped every second day, and only for a few hours. Ned was tired and sore, but he was here, and he had more important things to worry of than his own hurts. A single blast of a warhorn ripped through the air, announcing their arrival. A group had gathered at the front, watching the riders with varying expressions. The Lord Commander was not amongst the crowd. As Ned dismounted and turned away from the horse, a figure pushed through the crowd and wrapped him in a tight hug. A moment of shock passed before Ned realized it was Jon hugging him.

"Father," the boy said, equal parts worried and excited. "The letter said you were a traitor, but I never believed it. It's good to see you."

Ned hugged him back. Now was not the time to tell him, not amongst all these strangers. Besides this may be the last hug Jon ever gave him, once he learned the truth. He pulled away after a few moments and looked into Jon's eyes. Lyanna's eyes. The thought snapped him back to the true reason he was here. "Aye, it is good to see you as well. Rest assured, the only traitors are the Lannisters."

Everything else Ned had intended to say was cut off by Arya yelling and jumping into Jon's arms. "Little sister . . ." Jon set her down and smiled. "I see you still have my present. Do you remember the first lesson?"

Arya smirked and drew Needle. "Of course . . ."

"Stick them with the pointy end!" they shouted, then burst out laughing.

The crowd had all but dispersed, except for one man. A man Ned knew well, Ser Arthur Dayne, or Daeron Snow for now. He smiled at the exchange between Jon and Arya, but when his eyes met Ned's the smile changed into a knowing smirk. He nodded towards Jon. Ned glared at him but nodded in kind. "Jon," Ned interjected. "I made you a promise when we parted ways, do you remember?" Jon looked confused for several moments before the realization dawned, turning his face grim and unreadable. "If there's somewhere private we can speak, it is time you learned about your mother."