Alliance
Since Ned's death Benjen has been afraid of coming to Winterfell, seeing his childhood home without the last sibling he had. But it is Robb's tenth nameday. His presence is expected.
When he rides in the courtyard, there are already excited voices of children greeting him.
"Uncle Benjen! Uncle Benjen!" Robb and Jon run to him shouting. Arya is there in their heels, though she can barely remember him.
Laughing, Benjen dismounts to meet them.
In contrast with her siblings, Sansa stands still and solemnly like a perfect lady, the younger and smaller image of her mother. A little boy hangs on her coat. Brandon, Bran, obviously.
Catelyn welcomes him with an embrace and a warm smile. They exchange some polite words before she reminds the children that it is time to prepare for the evening.
All of them follow her obediently towards the castle, expect for Jon. He does not move but looks up at him curiously. He must have countless questions, as in the past.
"Go, Jon," Benjen urges him. "We can talk during the feast."
He shakes his head. "I can't. I won't eat with you but will help serving the dishes."
Benjen raises high his eyebrows.
"It's a punishment," Jon explains.
"For what?"
"Robb and I built a huge heap of snow on the wall. We wanted to dump it onto the girls' neck when they walked through the gate. But Septa Mordane accompanied them and she got very angry, so she hurried immediately to Lady Stark."
"And what about Robb?"
Jon shrugs. "He was punished too, but he is our lord. He got something fitting to that."
Benjen is watching Jon from the high table, scowling. He concentrates only on his task, takes it very seriously, does not even glance towards them.
So strange. For highborn children being a cupbearer for respected guests means a great honor. But this is different. Jon is baseborn and without his Stark features, he would not stand out from the servants. As time passes and food and drink lessen, the lords and ladies seem to forget him completely.
Still, the whole situation… it just does not feel right.
"Aren't you too stern with him?" Benjen turns to his sister-in-law.
"No," Catelyn replies without hesitance, and drinks a sip from her wine. "Now, please, tell me about the Night's Watch. I know all the tales about courage and glory. I learnt them as a child. But I want to hear what the reality is."
A week from now, almost every lord and lady of the North comes to Winterfell to greet Robb on his tenth nameday. For most of them that will be the first visit here since Ned died.
For Catelyn that will be the first – and maybe the only – chance to find out what their opinion is about her and Robb, the southern lady and the boy lord; which of them could be a friend and which of them is a threat.
But how does she do it? A man can flatter and say beautiful lies face to face, while he is sharpening his blade to stab it into Catelyn's back. Of course, servants could see a lot, servants could hear anything. But can they be trusted? Trusted enough to tell her all they see and hear?
No, Catelyn would not dare to ask them to do such thing.
Suddenly, Septa Mordane storms in the solar to inform her of the newest mischief of the boys. She persists it is lack of respect, Catelyn thinks it is an accident. A very unfortunate one.
They would disrespect Septa Mordane on purpose.
Anyway, she sighs and sends for them.
Some minutes later while she is listening to Robb's story, she realizes that the solution stands before her.
Jon Snow. He is clever and a good observant, according to his teachers. Sharp mind and sharp eyes, exactly what she needs.
"… Arya was laughing and Sansa… well, Sansa screamed first. But she snapped then, and didn't look like she was going to cry or something, mother. She wanted to take revenge on us." Her son's eyes are shining, no doubt, he fantasies about a hilarious snowball fight.
"Enough," Catelyn cuts in before Robb can start to paint it right when Septa Mordane can still hear him. "Robb, go to Maester Luwin. He mentioned that some of the old scrolls will soon become unreadable. I'm sure he will be very glad if you offer your help in copying them."
Robb pulls a long face but obeys.
After him Septa Mordane leaves as well, contended. If the lord was punished, the other one will be too. (Or she just wants to follow Robb to see he does not delay.)
Catelyn turns to Jon.
"And you…"
"It was my idea."
Perhaps it was. Perhaps he only tries to defend Robb, or says what he thinks Catelyn would like to hear. It does not matter, because…
"You did it together."
The boy nods, he cannot argue with that.
Then he waits for her judgment. Catelyn, however, hesitates.
"Can I join Robb, Lady Stark?" he asks after a while.
"Maester Luwin wouldn't mind one more hardworking hand. But…"
Can she do it?
Well… this is not a proper question. It must be done.
"I want to speak with you." She waves him closer and takes a deep breath. "The heads and heirs of the northern houses arrive at Winterfell in a little while. There have not been so many important people here since… for years. Robb's future, House Stark's future depends on them. Because of that, I have to know what they think about Robb. About me. Of course, they wouldn't tell me. So I need someone who can find out what they talk amongst themselves about."
Jon's eyes widen.
"You mean… spy on them?"
It sounds awful, especially from a child's mouth. But a lot of awful things are a necessity. It is that easy.
"Yes," Catelyn nods nervously. "Yes, spy on them. Would you do it?"
Jon does not reply immediately. Catelyn prefers it this way, he has to be sure in his decision, he has to know what he is consenting to. Jon frowns, then the wrinkles smooth out on his forehead.
"I would like to help Robb. And you." He adds the last words in a hurry and more quietly. So he can pretend – if Catelyn shows any sign of displeasure – that he did not say it at all.
She smiles at him.
"Thank you, Jon."
