A/N: I want to thank everyone for reading, alerting, and favoring this story.

I also want to extend my appreciation to Fejstroll, thepkrmgc, the dark euphie, Machoking, Hurricane Jackson, Axular, Nox Descious, Ari989, Bobboky, Gabriel Novak, Mikle Silver and for guest for taking the time to review. It means a lot to me. Your incredible support keeps my muse happy. And a happy muse is a busy muse.

Our Blades Are Sharp

By Spectre4hire

6: Eddard

He needed moments like this.

Ned took a deep breath of the cold air that gently passed over him. He needed to feel the cool winter wind against his face. His study could become too stuffy. The scalding waters that rushed through the walls and chambers of Winterfell could become too much at times. He was of the North.

The Starks were made for the cold. The crisp coldness settled his nerves and alleviated the stiffness he had felt creeping up on him due to his stifling study. An icy chill swept through the Winterfell training yard while a fresh powder of snow had already settled on the ground from last night.

Laughter broke him from his musings. Turning his attention to the training yard to see Robb, Arya, Bran, Jon, and Domeric were all enjoying the snow. His eyes lingered on the Bolton heir. It had been nearly a year since Ned had decided to accept Lord Bolton's offer and allow his son, Domeric to foster in Winterfell.

In that year, Ned had never felt any doubt in his decision. He was pleased at how the young man was maturing. He watched him become close friends with his eldest, Robb as well as with Jon. The latter had been a friendship that had surprised Ned.

Robb and Jon were not the only ones who had grown to like Domeric. Both Bran and Arya had taken to him. The former had come to watch many of Domeric's practices in the tiltyard where he trained on horse and continued to excel in his skill with the lance. Ned believed even now Domeric could shine in any of the numerous tourneys the South loved to lavishly throw.

While Bran could openly watch Domeric train his older sister, Arya did not have that luxury. Bran didn't hide his awe and appreciation when Domeric took to his practices on horseback with lance in hand. He was allowed to follow and ask the heir to the Dreadfort questions and advice. It was a path that was opened to him.

Ned could still remember when Arya came to him excited and chatting nonstop about the Warrior Queen, Nymeria. He had been surprised that his daughter knew of her because he hadn't believed she was that far along in her lessons with Maester Luwin. He later discovered that it had been Domeric who told her those tales. As well as stories of other strong woman warriors throughout history such as Aegon's sisters/wives: Visenya and Rhaenys, or of Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Though he knew these stories only encouraged Arya's behavior he allowed them to continue. She did better in her lessons with Maester Luwin and carried a spark whenever she talked about them. That alone made it an easy decision for him. He could see the look of longing on her face whenever she could watch Robb, Jon, Theon, and Domeric train in the tiltyard. He has entertained the idea of letting Arya foster with the Mormonts on Bear Island so that she could learn and train but he knew Cat would be against it. He too was hesitant with the decision knowing his youngest daughter also needed some refinement. So for the time being he let the matter lay.

The interactions he watched most closely were that of his eldest daughter and Domeric. He had suspected that Lord Bolton's offer of Domeric to ward at Winterfell was his subtle attempt at an unspoken proposal of a betrothal between Domeric and Sansa. It was a union that would unite the two most powerful northern houses in a way that the North had never seen before.

Without ever knowing or meeting Domeric, Ned recognized it as a tempting offer. He would be lying if he said he wasn't seriously considering it. He used the past year to better watch and learn of the young man who would someday be Lord of the Dreadfort.

Ned loved his eldest daughter, but he was concerned for her. She was strong there was no doubt, but she showed her strength in different ways. He worried of her fascination of tales of love and knights and how that view of the world could leave her vulnerable to be exploited and hurt. He wanted someone who would treat her well. Someone who would care for her, protect her. In the end, he wanted Sansa to be happy.

These views weren't popular amongst the nobility when they arranged their sons and daughters in marriages in attempts to solidify more power and secure wealth. The political arrangements of marriages could not be avoided for a family as strong and as influential as theirs, but Ned and Cat had decided early on that they still wanted them to be happy with their spouses. So when the time came for the betrothals to be made it would come with stipulations that made sure that they would know and hopefully care for their potential spouses before they made their vows.

It was a luxury Ned and Cat did not have, but thankfully they found love in their marriage. It was a rare blessing.

Maester Luwin, Septa Mordane, various servants, and guards kept him apprised of not just Domeric, but his interactions with Sansa. Luwin praised him for his knowledge and how he excelled in his studies especially history. The Septa would report of watching them together how they often settled peacefully in the library or the gardens with Domeric playing his harp while Sansa would hum softly along or sometimes sing when she worked on her needlework.

Ned was pleased by these reports. The guards and servants he had spoken to informed him of Domeric being polite and well mannered. He treated them with respect and courtesy. He had seen similar things from the young man and was pleased to note that it didn't seem to be an act that he put up only in front of Ned and his family. The Bolton heir seemed genuine in his kindness.

He also did not ignore the small smiles that came to Sansa's face whenever her eyes met Domeric. Or the shy ones that he returned to her. He could tell that they already seemed to care for one another. That brought a great amount of comfort to him. It also helped to sway him in his musings when he pondered the decision he would make.

"ARYA!"

Sansa's sudden shriek brought his attention back to the training yard. Sansa was with Jeyne and Beth walking the yard. They were far enough away as to not be directly involved in the game that the others were playing but close enough to be able to hear and talk to them. Sansa was looking down at her lovely dress trying to brush off the dirty snow that Arya had hurled at her.

The game between the others came to a sudden stop. Tenseness hovered over the tilt yard like a dark cloud.

Arya was hiding behind Robb for protection. Robb looked to be trying not to laugh. Bran was frozen in his position, eyes wide in shock, but a smile was tugging at his lips while still holding onto a snowball. Jon was shaking his head. Domeric was the closest to Sansa and her friends. He looked towards the hiding Arya and then to the furious Sansa.

"My lady," Domeric approached Sansa. When he was close enough to her he offered an over the top bow that had Beth and Jeyne giggling, Robb was guffawing, and even Sansa's anger faded.

Ned was certain he saw a small smile grace his eldest daughter's face.

"Do you seek satisfaction?"

Sansa lifted her head a bit higher. Looking over towards her hiding sister, "I do." She declared imperiously.

"Would you allow me to be your champion?" Domeric ended his question with a dramatic hand flourish.

"I will," Sansa permitted in feigned haughtiness.

Domeric unable to keep the grin from his face turned to Robb. "The lady demands satisfaction."

"So be it," Robb puffed his chest proudly.

The antics of Robb and Domeric had brought Bran out of his frozen stance. He had dropped the snowball he had been holding. He quickly rushed over to bring them two blunted swords, smiling and laughing the whole time.

"A favor, my lady?" Domeric lowered his sword to Sansa.

"Of course," she replied in a sickly sweet voice, "for my champion." She presented a ribbon from her hair, tying it to his sword hilt.

"Excellent," Domeric declared turning to Robb.

Robb frowning went over to Arya, "A favor, my lady?"

Arya who was no longer looking terrified at facing her sister's wrath was now laughing along. There was a happy gleam in her eyes that only widened when Robb presented the sword so that she could provide her own favor. Her smile turned mischievous.

"A favor?" She stuck out her tongue at that idea. "I want to fight!" She then took the sword from Robb and made her way towards Domeric.

"I see I will be facing a more challenging foe then I anticipated," Domeric raised his sword in anticipation.

"Hey!" Robb protested from the side.

Ned could've stopped them, especially when Arya took up the blunted sword instead of her brother. He probably should've, but he couldn't. Seeing them all happy and playing reminded him of his own times with Brandon, Benjen, and Lyanna and the games they use to play.

Let them have their fun, he thought. Let them understand the importance of family and friends so that when winter came they would know just how fiercely to protect those that they care for.

"Ned?"

He turned away from the theatrical fight between Domeric and Arya to see his wife approaching. He smiled in greeting especially with who she was carrying. Rickon, young and wild was squirming in her arms trying to break free so that he could go play with his siblings.

They joined him. He kissed Cat's cheek and tousled Rickon's hair.

"I yield!" Domeric cried after Arya's blunted sword had tapped his side. The Bolton heir collapsed onto the snow to laughter. He then dropped his head and gave out an exaggerated last gasp of breath.

Ned could see the slight frown come to his wife's lips at seeing Arya with a sword. He moved to grab Rickon from her, receiving her attention as she smiled her thanks. He stopped squirming, Rickon's eyes bright and attentive at the scene down below.

"Oh my brave champion!" Sansa cried out dramatically.

"Bested by the best swordswoman in the North!" declared Arya proudly.

A wet slap echoed across the training yard as Arya looked down to see she was hit with a snowball. She turned to see it was from Sansa, who was rolling up another one. Before Arya could react a second one hit her. That one had come from Domeric who was getting back to his feet.

"Hey!" She cried out, "I killed you!"

"I got better," he grinned.

The actions of him and Sansa had them all laughing while the snowball fight ensued.

"Bran!" she called to her brother for assistance. He rallied to her cause sending a snowball in Domeric's direction. That gave Arya enough time to scrounge up her own snowball and hurl one at her sister who ducked to avoid it.

"Father."

Ned turned to see Robb coming up to them. Smiling, his face was red from the cold and the mirthful mood from below.

"I can watch him," Robb told them gesturing to Rickon who squealed in delight.

Ned smiled. He acquiesced with a nod moving to relinquish his youngest son into the arms of his eldest .

Cat touched Robb's cheek, a doting smile on her lips. "Listen to your brother, Rickon."

"I will," Rickon promised excitedly.

"Lord Stark?" Maester Luwin appeared clutching a letter in his hand.

Ned turned away from the happy, playing children to the Maester of Winterfell. "Yes?"

"A letter from the Dreadfort," Luwin informed him. "Lord Bolton and Lady Dustin are on their way."

"Let's see to preparations," Ned nodded.

"Of course," Luwin didn't leave.

"Maester?" Cat noticed the hesitance in Luwin's expression.

"Forgive me," he bowed his head, "But I was wondering if Lord Stark had made a decision in regards to the potential betrothal between Domeric and Sansa."

"Ned?" Cat's eyes were on him.

He looked out to see Domeric and Sansa had taken cover from a fresh onslaught of snowballs sent by Bran and Arya while the unleashed Rickon was grabbing snow in his hands and tossing it at anyone he could see. Seeing his daughter smiling and laughing, and knowing what he knew of the young man and the potential this alliance could make the decision had become apparent for him.

"Winter is coming, Cat." His eyes were on his children. "In order to survive we must be together."

A/N: So in this chapter I wanted to feature some Stark family silliness/bonding. Let them have their fun and enjoy some time together because The Game of Thrones is coming and when it does these moments will be few if any. Got to cherish them while you can, I think.

This chapter starts a small mini story arc that I see carrying over for another two or more chapters before the next time jump.

Thanks for reading.

Until next time,

-Spectre4hire