A/N: I just want to thank everyone who read and reviewed last chapter. The feedback was amazing. I was pleased and humbled to see that so many were interested in this story idea. I feared I might be the only one. It's listening to your feedback and reading your reviews that will keep this story going.

Our Blades Are Sharp

By Spectre4hire

2: Eddard

Ned inspected the broken Bolton seal that had been pressed into the wax of another letter that the Lord of the Dreadfort had sent him. He sat quietly digesting the contents of this one. He put the letter on his desk in the study that was used for his business as Warden of the North, the Lord of Winterfell.

"Lord Bolton is persistent," Maester Luwin's observations broke through Ned's musings.

"Aye, he is," Ned looked expectantly at Maester Luwin. He had always trusted the Maester for his wise counsel. "He is asking that I foster his son and heir, Domeric Bolton here at Winterfell."

"A request not made lightly," Luwin noted, his hands were in the inside folds of his grey robes. "He is giving you the heir to his house. Not something to ignore given the families' icy history."

No, the Boltons have challenged the Starks on more than one occasion. The history between these two families has been built on suspicion and bloodshed that has made it difficult for any stability or friendship to take hold. Even with the fragile relationship between his house and house Bolton, Ned had no reason to mistrust Roose Bolton. He had answered Ned's call when he Ned brought the North into Robert's Rebellion.

Yet, Ned couldn't shake some of his reservations about the Lord of the Dreadfort. He had heard disquieting rumors in years past. Such as the tale that Roose Bolton still practiced the First Night. A tradition that has since been banished that use to be the practice of a Lord being able to bed the bride on her wedding night. Ned had no proof, but their existence troubled him.

This sudden gesture of goodwill was unexpected. Roose Bolton was asking for him to take his son and heir, essentially putting his family's future in Ned's hands. Fostering was common to form new friendships and alliances between the noble families. Winterfell and the Starks in the past have hosted wards and fostered noble children from various families of the North. The only time the Boltons had been involved had been when they gave hostages after the Starks put them down to ensure their good behavior. This wasn't the case this time.

"What do we know of the young Bolton?" Ned didn't know much of the heir to the Dreadfort. He was unable to recall even meeting the young man.

"He is older than Robb," Luwin answered, "He was a page for Lady Barbrey, his Aunt in Barrowton for a few years," Luwin continued, "Before fostering in the Vale for Lord Redfort."

The mention of the Vale brought a small smile to Ned's pensive expression. It reminded him of his own time being fostered in the Vale where he forged a lifelong friendship with Robert Baratheon under Jon Arryn's tutelage. It was those fond memories that stirred Ned to write his response to Lord Bolton.

He folded up his response before pressing the Stark direwolf seal into the parchment. He looked up to see Luwin's curious expression. "Send this back to the Dreadfort."

Luwin bowed his head, taking the offered letter, but made no attempt at asking Ned of his decision.

"Afterwards," Ned stopped him before he could leave, "Could you gather the children, they need to know about our pending guest."

"Of course, Lord Stark," A flicker of approval spread across the maester's face.

The benefits of this arrangement couldn't be ignored. A strong friendship between House Stark and House Bolton would only make the North stronger.

Ned leaned back in his seat. He wanted a similar friendship to be made between Robb and Domeric that he and Robert had formed so many years ago. They would both grow up to be powerful lords, Robb, the Lord of Winterfell, Warden and the North, while Domeric would become the next Lord of the Dreadfort. They would be able to rely and support one another, because winter is coming and a united north is a strong north. And that's what was needed to endure the approaching winter.

"A Bolton?" Arya made a face. "Don't they wear the flayed skins of their enemies?"

"Arya," Ned chastised his daughter. Every year, she reminded him more and more of his sister, Lyanna. She was a young spirited girl who didn't want to follow the more traditional pursuits of a noblewoman. Arya always wanted to fight with the boys. She wanted to learn swordplay and ride in tourneys. He admired her spirit and her audacity even though they had often caused him a few headaches.

He had informed his children of his decision to foster Domeric Bolton. Their reaction had not been ideal. They seemed suspicious and wary of having a Bolton with them. They hadn't forgotten the lessons that Maester Luwin had taught them about the rebellions the Boltons had started against the Starks.

"Why, Father?" Robb asked. Ned was proud of the young man his eldest was becoming. Robb worked hard in his studies, he looked after his siblings, and understood the responsibilities that would one day fall on him when he became the next Lord of Winterfell.

"This will strengthen our houses," he told them, looking to see his words had a minimal effect on his children. He then looked to Robb. "You and Domeric could form the same sort of friendship that I have with King Robert."

The mention of King Robert had gotten their attention. He knew how much they enjoyed some of the stories he would tell about his time in the Vale and the friendship he had with King Robert. They enjoyed the tales of Robert's Rebellion, especially the ones that featured King Robert wielding his famous and massive war hammer.

"He is around your age, Robb," Ned reminded him. He knew if Robb gave Domeric a chance, a friendship could start, which would be good for both of them.

Robb still didn't seem convinced, but he nodded his head. Robb didn't want to disappoint him.

"When is he arriving?" That was Sansa.

She was a beautiful girl who desired to be the perfect genteel lady. She had an enthusiastic interest in music, poetry, dancing, and embroidery. She was captivated by the songs from the southern bards that told of adventures featuring handsome princes and honorable knights. He didn't like how she believed in these tales and songs and took them as truth. Since Ned understood how hard the world really was. She was born in the summer, and needed to be strong to survive the harsh winter that would come soon to the North.

"In a few days," Ned answered.

"How long will he be staying?" Bran asked. According to Cat, he had recently been spending more time climbing and exploring Winterfell. He craved excitement and when not exploring could be found playing with Arya in the tiltyard as the two would pretend to be knights. He too dreamed of being a knight.

"A few years," Ned answered. It was expected for Domeric to finish his studies and training at Winterfell so that when he turned sixteen, he would legally become a man and return to the Dreadfort.

"I expect you all to treat him as family and welcome him to Winterfell," Ned looked over his children. "He is our guest. Rudeness will not be tolerated. Anyone who treats him poorly will be held accountable and properly punished." He was pleased to see his words had gotten through to his children. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, father." They chorused.

The day of Domeric Bolton's arrival was finally here. Ned had instructed his children to be dressed and ready to welcome their guest when he arrived to the gates of Winterfell. He was pleased to see his children were all lined up, all except Rickon, their youngest remained inside.

Theon was also there. He was a few years older than Robb, and was a ward to Winterfell. It fell on Ned to take in the young boy after his father; Balon had rebelled against King Robert. Theon's presence in Winterfell was to make sure Balon Greyjoy remained on his best behavior. Even though, he was a hostage, Ned tried to treat the Heir to the Iron Islands as a member of his family.

Maester Luwin stood behind Ned and Cat, as was Rodrik Cassel, master-at-arms and castellan. No doubt, Rodrik was curious in the new ward from the Dreadfort knowing that he would help to train Domeric in swordplay. Jory Cassel was also there, the nephew of Rodrik and Captain of the Guards for House Stark. With him were several of the guards, some of them were holding the banners of House Stark.

There was also Hullen, the master of horse. Septa Mordane who served as the tutor for Sansa and Arya was also there, standing behind the Stark Children, and making sure they were on their best behavior. As well as countless others who were curious in seeing the heir of the Dreadfort.

Lastly, he turned to Cat. She looked radiant in the afternoon sun. She had been suspicious about the abrupt offer that Lord Bolton made. Ned knew Cat never cared for Roose Bolton in her limited interactions with him. She saw this as one of his schemes to try to advance his family. When he informed her of his decision to take Domeric, she supported Ned and he knew she would be nothing but the best host for the Bolton heir during his time in Winterfell.

She must have sensed him watching her, turning to him; she offered him one of her beautiful smiles before taking his hand, and giving it a soft squeeze. He returned her smile. He had been blessed when it came to his marriage with her. It was difficult and frustrating at times like all marriages, but he knew she was the only one for him. He loved her. She loved him. It was a blessing he knew that most arranged marriages never were able to cultivate

The sound of thundering hooves broke through to his musings and brought his attention to the open gates of Winterfell. A lone rider came trotting in, following behind him were two more riders, and they were carrying the Bolton banners: a flayed man on a blue field.

Ned heard Arya mumble something to Bran, but was unable to pick up on what exactly she said. Whatever it was it brought a snicker out of Bran. He turned to them, and they sobered immediately with Arya bowing her head knowing she had been caught.

Turning back to the riders, Ned watched as a wagon came lumbering through the gates, which was carrying the belongings that the young Bolton brought with him.

The lead rider was finely dressed, and riding atop a beautiful black destrier. It allowed Ned to recognize him as the heir of the Dreadfort. His first impressions were that he didn't resemble his father in appearance. He had brown hair that fell just above his shoulders and inquisitive brown eyes. And when he turned to the Stark family, he offered them a smile. Ned had never known the Lord of the Dreadfort to smile.

Hullen was quick to instruct one of his stable boys to tend to Domeric's horse. The young man easily got off of his horse, and approached them. He was quick to bow his head, before he knelt to the ground. His knee sunk into the mud.

"I am Domeric Bolton, son of the loyal bannermen, Roose Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort." He kept his head down out of respect. "Lord Stark, I am honored to be here and thankful for you to opening up your home to me."

"Please, stand," Ned encouraged him. The young man before him seemed nothing like his stoic and cold father. It was something that came as a pleasant surprise to the Warden of the North. It made him a little more confident that his family would get along well with the Bolton heir.

It could be an act, but Ned doubted it. Despite, his behavior being nothing like his father. He seemed genuine in his sincerity and with his smile. Ned wasn't going to doubt him because he was being polite and kind. Domeric deserved better then to be greeted with suspicion.

Domeric obeyed. He quickly got to his feet, to show his tall stature and lean frame.

"Welcome to Winterfell," he greeted his newest ward. "We are happy to have you." He turned to his wife, Cat who was standing beside him. "This is my wife, Catelyn Stark."

"Lady Stark," Domeric bowed his head, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

"Welcome, Domeric," Cat smiled, "We hope you will enjoy your time here."

"This is my eldest, Robb."

The two young men eyed one another. Domeric then ducked his head, "I hope that my time here will bring about friendship between us."

"I do as well," Robb replied smoothly, offering him his hand.

Domeric smiled and shook it.

"This is Sansa, our eldest daughter," Ned continued.

"It is an honor, Lady Sansa," taking her hand and just like with Cat, he kissed the back of it.

"Thank you, Domeric." She smiled and blushed, "It's a pleasure to meet you as well."

Ned noted the interaction and the looks between Domeric and Sansa. He noticed the small smile on Cat's lips. He put that in the back of his mind as he finished the introductions for Domeric Bolton, who then greeted Bran and Arya warmly.

"I'm sure you must be tired from your travel," Ned said, "I'll have Robb take you to where you will be staying."

"Thank you, Lord Stark," Domeric replied politely.

Ned watched as Robb led Domeric into the castle. The others soon dispersed. Bran and Arya going into the castle together, talking about continuing a game they had started. Sansa went back inside with Jeyne Poole, the two girls talking in hushed whispers and giggles.

"It seems it's not just fostering that Lord Bolton was interested in," Cat said wryly.