Ned's mouth dropped open as the creature hissed again. He looked at his sons, daughters and wards uneasily. Only Domeric seemed vaguely unfazed. Dany was white with fear and Theon had an expression of revulsion.

"I doubt any of us can go back to sleep," Ned said with a sigh.

"None of us had slept all night," admitted Jon. Ned shook his head. "Sit down," he said wearily. "All of you. Close the door behind you," he added. Stifling a yawn, Ned lit a small fire and waited for the children to shuffle in and settle down. Jon helped Domeric tie the creature to a brass post of the bed. Ned crossed his arms. So many questions buzzed in his tired mind, but one stood out. "Why are you all awake at such a time?"

"It's him," said Robb, pointing at the creature. "That is the creature who kept harassing Dany for the last few nights."

"It looks like a grumkin," said Theon with a smirk.

"So you decided to take matters into your own hands," said Ned, ignoring his Greyjoy ward. "I suspect none of you told me due to your belief that I would stop you in your plans?"

Jon nodded reluctantly. "I'm sorry if we deceived you Father."

"No matter." His grey eyes swept towards the three girls. "Why are you not in bed? I hope you didn't play a big part in all this." He noticed the sword in Arya's hand. "Arya, why do you have that?" He took it from her carefully. "I know this – it is Mikken's work is it not?"

Arya nodded uncomfortably. "It was a gift."

Ned frowned. "A gift?" Who would give her a sword? He had too much on his mind already. "I expect answers soon," he warned, giving the sword back to her. He will ask her more about it later, perhaps at breakfast. "Why are you all awake and with the boys?"

"We were part of Jon's plan Father," said Lyarra bluntly. "I was keeping Dany company in her rooms. What kind of cousin would I be if I allowed Dany to stay alone in her chambers?"

"Wouldn't it have been easier if Daenerys had hid in your chambers and one of your brothers pretended to be Dany in her chambers? All the boys are trained to kill and maim while you girls are not. What do you think would happen if none of the boys were within view and this creature managed to finally break through Dany's door? Lyarra, both you and Dany would be dead."

"I would've been able to protect them," Arya interjected.

Ned raised an eyebrow. "I suppose," he conceded reluctantly. "If you had told me about your plan, I would've ensured extra men to be on alert."

"I doubt that would be any good my lord," said Domeric quietly. "I am under the impression that this creature had been hiding in Winterfell for months – even before the royal party's arrival perhaps."

"Oh?"

"Look at him." Domeric poked the creature's saggy skin with his sword. "If he – or it – was once human, he clearly went through months of starvation and is no longer human. I wonder why he was here in the first place…" He crouched down and stared at the creature in the eye. "What are you doing here, creature? Were you sent here or did you come on your own volition?"

The creature hissed. "Theeeee flaaaaayed maaaaan's sonnnn…" It turned and glared at Daenerys with strangely dark eyes. "Youuuu…." it snarled. "You should not be heeeere!"

"Why?" demanded Daenerys angrily. "Who are you to say I cannot stay here? I am Lord and Lady Stark's niece!"

The creature threw back its head and laughed wildly. Unease swirling in Ned's stomach, he cleared his throat. "It would be wiser not to provoke him. Domeric, Jon, we'll go and put the creature in the dungeons. After breakfast, I will go and question him thoroughly. None of you will set foot near the dungeons or speak to this creature, understand? If I catch wind that one of you have went against my orders…" He took a deep breath. "There will be severe consequences. Don't think of it as punishment children, this is for your own safety."

"I need to know," Daenerys insisted.

Ned shook his head firmly. "No. I'm sorry Daenerys, but I must insist on asking this creature questions on my own. If he reveals anything, I will tell you and all the others present immediately."

"You promise?" inquired Arya.

Ned nodded. "I'll tell you everything," he promised. "Once I have answers, I'll tell you. I'll tell all of you. However, you must swear by the old gods and new that you will not repeat any of this to anyone else. Not your mother, not your siblings and none of Winterfell's household staff and retainers. The last thing we need is panic in Winterfell." He heaved a sigh. I need a drink. Preferably something warm and soothing. "You all must have at least a few hours of sleep. Jon, Domeric, let's go to the dungeons. Now."

"Wait," said Robb suddenly. "Does this creature have a name?"

Ned looked down at it. "Do you have a name?" he said loudly and clearly. The creature lifted its head. To his astonishment, it looked slightly depressed. "I haad a name once," it hissed quietly, "but it was taaaaken away from meeee."

"What is your name?" said Dany softly.

"I haaaaave no name."

"What was your name?"

The creature paused and stared at Daenerys again for a good minute before it decided to reply. "Mooooorbus."

"Morbus?"

"Mooooorbus. Before heeeeee took it awaaay from mee."

"Jon! Domeric! Let's go." Ned led Jon and Domeric and Morbus away from his chambers, leaving the others behind with confused and bewildered expressions. They will all be expecting answers soon, Ned thought sadly. He suspected there'll be answers he must unfortunately keep from them – even if he promised Arya he wouldn't. There would always be secrets. Always.

"What's wrong with him?" Jon whispered as they arrived at the dungeons. "I never heard such…such hissing before."

"I don't know," Ned murmured back. "We will have answers soon."

"Why do you think he is after Dany? Dany wouldn't hurt a fly!"

"I know you are worried about Dany – we all are – and I will ensure that we'll have all the answers we need."

"Can I listen in?"

Ned shook his head firmly. "No Jon. I will question him myself." He opened the dungeon door and Domeric all but threw Morbus in. It was the last dungeon and the most secure. Windowless with a strong iron door, Ned was confident Morbus could not get out. However, there was always the chance someone would try and help him escape…Ned glanced at the waiting Jon and Domeric. "Is it too much to ask if the two of you can guard the door for a few hours?" he asked hesitantly. "I know you are tired and probably hungry, but after all your uh, valiant efforts in capturing Morbus, it will be disastrous if he somehow escapes with the help of a possible accomplice."

"There is another one of him here?" said Jon, horrified.

"There could be. We don't know. I will have someone bring you food and drink at once, and Robb and Theon will replace you in a few hours. Once I finish asking Morbus all the questions we need, I will set a regular guard at his door."

Domeric nodded. "I cannot fall asleep even if I tried."

"If he talks, write down everything he says – even if it is nonsense. For all we know, he could be speaking in code."

Jon nodded. "Very well."

Ned smiled tightly at the two boys. "If there is a problem, let me know. I know it is heavy responsibility for the two of you-"

"We can handle it Father," Jon assured him.

Ned nodded and walked away. As he headed back to his chambers, his heart sank as he heard someone call his name. Maester Luwin shuffled towards him in his grey woollen robes, a candle in hand. "Lord Stark," he said again.

"Maester Luwin," Ned acknowledged. "What are you doing-" He stopped. Was it too early or too late?

"There were noises my lord," said Maester Luwin, glancing around. "I thought it best to warn you…but it seems you are already aware of it my lord. If you don't mind me asking Lord Stark, but what happened?"

Ned sighed. Maester Luwin would discover it anyway. "There was an intruder here," he admitted. "The boys subdued him and he is now in the dungeons. I did not want to alarm the guests so I had Jon and Domeric guard him for now. Once the guests leave, I will set a regular guard on him."

"I see. There is news from the Wall."

"Can this not wait until the morning, Maester?"

"It could my lord – if you so wish it still. However, as we are both awake and speaking, it might be wiser if I tell you now." Spotting Ned's reluctant glance, the maester continued. "I was woken up by an extremely early raven, Lord Stark. The bird arrived at my window just past the hour of the eel, as some would like to say. Fortunately I was a light sleeper and found more interest in the message brought by the raven than attempting to return to sleep. Anyway, I read the letter and it was from Lord Commander Mormont."

"Oh? Does he want more men again?" Almost routinely, Lord Commander Jeor Mormont sent letters requesting more men every few months. "I'll ask the other lords if they have any criminals to send to the Wall."

"It is not that, Lord Stark. Well…not exactly. Yes, the Lord Commander asked for more men, but he also wrote about the death of a…a recruit."

"The death of a recruit?"

"Yes. The death of a recruit." Maester Luwin handed him a scroll of paper. "It was Viserys Dayne of High Hermitage who died I believe. I don't know why Lord Commander Mormont would mention it, but I assume the First Ranger asked him to include it in the letter."

Benjen. Ned unrolled the parchment and squinted at it.

Greetings Lord Stark,

I must regrettably inform you that the number of black brothers are dangerously dwindling and with the strong possibility of a long winter approaching, the Night's Watch is in dire and almost desperate need for more men to man the Wall.

Moreover, the wildlings have become bolder – you must've known that from Lord Umber's reports – and the task of subduing them had become harder by the day. Any men you send will be a welcome sight Lord Stark. Even one man can help the situation at the Wall.

On another note, the First Ranger Benjen Stark reminded me to tell you that one of the recruits, Viserys Dayne of High Hermitage, had died from what our maester believes to be illness of some sort. The details about his death are slightly murky – then again, my duty is not at a sickbed or at an infirmary. From what Maester Aemon informed me, Viserys Dayne died a couple of days ago and we need to know if you wish for his body to be returned to Winterfell – or High Hermitage – or if you want it to be burnt like the bodies of the fallen among our ranks. We usually only notify the deceased's family, but as Viserys Dayne seemed to have none who care, the First Ranger suggested we inform you as your lady wife's mother was a Dayne of High Hermitage.

May the old gods be with you Lord Stark,

Jeor Mormont,

Nine Hundred and Ninety Ninth Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.

Ned groaned. Over the last couple of weeks – no, years – he had forgotten all about Viserys at the Wall. Benjen might have mentioned him once or twice in his letters, but the thought of the last Targaryen boy always slipped Ned's mind. He felt a little guilty now.

"My lord?" said Maester Luwin cautiously.

"Benjen was kind to inform me about Viserys's death," Ned muttered. "It will be best if he is cremated…quickly." He walked faster to his chambers. The death of Viserys Targaryen was unexpected. Very unexpected. Ned wondered if Varys had a hand in this. If he did, it wouldn't make sense. It was the Spider who sent Viserys to the Wall in the first place. Then again, perhaps Viserys died a…natural death after all. Anything could happen at the Wall.

"Lord Stark…is this boy truly related to Lady Stark?"

Ned stopped in his tracks and sighed again. "Maester Luwin," he said softly. "I trust you second to my wife and those of my blood. However, there are a couple of matters I do not have the liberty to share with you."

"Of course my lord. However, rumours will spread."

"Rumours?"

"One day after Viserys is cremated, the sworn brothers of the Night's Watch will talk amongst themselves and wonder if Viserys was truly mad. Rumours will flitter south and some will wonder if…if you have aided your wife's family than they have done to yours."

Ned nodded slowly. To many Northern lords, a Dayne was a Dayne even if he was from High Hermitage and not Starfall. Ashara had went south to deal with a problem in Starfall, not to comfort and support Bran – that would not settle well with lords like the Greatjon and Roose Bolton.

"Will they actually believe the rumours?" said Ned uncertainly.

"Perhaps."

"Even if they choose to, they will not blame Ashara would they? She is always a gracious hostess and my bannermen have said nothing but praise towards her. Even Lord Umber, who is not afraid to speak the blunt truth, said she was 'more northerner than Dayne' ever since she gave birth to Lyarra." He could not resist a reminiscing chuckle. "When Ashara gave birth to Robb, Greatjon Umber had the temerity to say I was fortunate to have married a fertile and pretty southroner. I thought he would call her…something else."

"I doubt Lord Umber would call Lady Stark anything inappropriate."

"He did call his late good-sister a whore when it suited him. The Greatjon does remind me of Robert from time to time."

"Indeed my lord." Is it just me or does he sound more awake? "Are you in the mood to discuss more or will you return to bed?"

Sleep would not drift to Ned even if he tried to grab wisps of it. Ned trudged to his solar and lit a few candles, Maester Luwin trailing behind him. Ned glanced at the window – it was still dark outside. Then again, it was at least an hour or two after midnight. Ned sat down and gestured for the maester to seat himself down on the chair opposite him. "Maester Luwin, what is it you wish to discuss so early in the morning?"

"Or so late at night my lord."

"What is it Maester Luwin?"

"Lord Umber has daughters, Lord Stark. And a younger son."

Ned covered his eyes with his hands with a tired sigh. "Maester Luwin. forgive me, but every time we talk, you always bring up the subject of betrothals for my children. If it wasn't a betrothal between Arya and Ser Edmure's heir, it would be between little Gwenysse and a Flint. I do not mean to be offensive Maester Luwin, but the last time a maester suggested matches for Starks, it didn't end well." He shuddered. "It didn't end well at all."

Maester Luwin nodded, his expression impassive as usual. "I understand your reluctance to marry off your children my lord," he said calmly. "However, it is my duty as a maester to offer you advice regarding the good of Winterfell. We both know marriages are the best way to secure new alliances. Lyarra's betrothal will cement the North; Robb's betrothal will permanently secure an alliance with the royal family. I know I repeat myself Lord Stark, but you have five more children to find suitable spouses for."

"Six, Maester Luwin. Six children."

The maester nodded again. "Of course Lord Stark. Six children. Would it not be simpler if you wed Jon to Daenerys? No one will object to a match between your natural son and Lady Stark's natural niece. Furthermore it'll strengthen the unity between Daynes and Starks forged by your own marriage."

It would be fitting…if Daenerys was not Jon's aunt in truth. "Indeed," Ned said tentatively. "However, I promised Ashara I wouldn't betroth any of our children to other lords. I told you that."

"What of Theon Greyjoy, my lord? He is no longer a boy. He is of age to marry and have heirs of his own. I heard he visited the few brothels near Winterfell and bedded at least a dozen women there. If Lyarra hadn't been affianced to Domeric since birth, Theon would be a good match for her."

Ned stared at him. "You think Theon is good for Lyarra?"

"He is a Greyjoy and the heir to Pyke."

"Theon had been living with us for many years already. Even though you and a few others mentioned that Theon is more Stark than Greyjoy, do you think he'll be accepted by the Ironborn one day when he becomes their lord?"

"Honestly my lord…no. The Ironborn are not like southroners who will accept a stranger for their lord without much question." Maester Luwin paused. "Even southroners will not accept a stranger readily. My lord, if I was Balon Greyjoy, I would not think Theon is a true Ironborn."

Ned nodded thoughtfully. "Balon is a proud man," he admitted. "Much prouder than Vale lords." He suppressed a yawn. It seemed sleep was coming to him after all. Maester Luwin noticed. "I have kept you up," he said, rising from his chair. "If you so wish, I will speak to you again after breakfast."

"Perhaps after our midday meal tomorrow Maester Luwin, or even at supper. I have matters to deal with in the morning and lords to speak to in the afternoon before they leave for their homes. Maybe I should try and sleep for another hour or two. Oh, Maester? Please do not speak of your suspicions to the children. I am sure you wouldn't, but still."

"I understand Lord Stark. I'll tend to the ravens before I return to my bed." He dipped his head and left. Ned closed his eyes. He wished Ashara was at Winterfell. The younger children asked about her everyday – he promised she would come home soon. Maester Luwin gave helpful advice in the past, but he seemed to have a habit of bringing up betrothals in every conversation. When they discussed the replacements of old servants, Luwin would mention betrothals. When the subject was the children's education, the topic of betrothals would come up again. When it was reading letters…betrothals would be mentioned at least ten times.

Once when Robb and Lyarra were little, the topic of betrothals and marriages was an enjoyable issue of conversation between Ned and Ashara, especially after a long day of decision-making. Now…it felt like a chore. An uncomfortable chore Ned was reluctant to do.


Honestly I didn't think of making the creature Viserys. Good idea though! There will be more about Morbus soon :) Next chapter will be at Dorne with Ashara.