Author's Note

I do not own Games of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire.

Cat slipped into the Godswood and made her way over to where Ned was polishing Ice by the pond. She sank onto the branch at his side, resting her arms across her legs. "All these years and I still feel like an outsider when I come here."

Ned laughed. "You have fifteen northern children. You're not an outsider."

Cat sighed. "I wonder if the old gods agree."

"It's your gods with all the rules."

Cat wet her lips and looked down at her hands. "I am so sorry, my love."

Ned set Ice aside, turning to her. "Tell me."

"There was a raven from Kings Landing. Jon Arryn is dead. A fever took him." She took his hand. "I know he was like a father to you.

"Your sister," Ned said. "The children…"

Lysa Arryn had not been as blessed with fertility as her sister had, but she had still managed to birth three children. The gods would be cruel to take them.

"They all have their health. Gods be good." She gazed at him. "The raven brought more news. The king rides for Winterfell. With the queen and all the rest of them."

Ned grimaced. "He's coming this far North, there's only one thing he's after.

"You can always say no, Ned." She squeezed his hand. "And–"

He frowned. "More?"

She smiled. "No; no. But– Far be it from my place to express concern– Alys."

Alys.

"Robert– The King– We both know he hates the dragons."

"Alys isn't a dragon," Ned said. "She's a Stark bastard."

"But you know what he's going to see."

The direwolf pups grew as the weeks before the King's arrival passed. Robb named his, a fine, strong grey male, Greywind, and was already training him to fetch arrows. When not being beaten to it by Liya's Warrior, a sleek, black and silver female. Finishing off their little trio was Arya and her Nymeria. Robb had – secretly, without telling their father – began teaching her archery and swordsmanship, and Nymeria of course accompanied her everywhere.

Minisa had called her pup Darling, for she was one of the milder mannered pups, and had quickly come to follow Minisa's instructions.

"Of course Lady Perfect would have no disobedience," Liya muttered to Tylar.

He grinned. "Watch this." He looked down at his own direwolf, Hunter, a deep brown male with bright blue eyes like Tylar's own. "Hunter, nip."

Hunter yipped and darted forward and nipped at Darling's tail. Darling yelped and turned on him with a flurry of claws and teeth.

"Darling!" Minisa cried. "Tylar, call your brute off!"

"He's just having some fun!"

"Tylar!"

Tylar rolled his eyes. "Fine." He gave a sharp whistle and Hunter hurried back to his side. "Come on. Let's go find Edwyle and Dream. They'll play with us."

Dream was Edwyle's wolf pup, already one of the biggest, a cream coloured thing. Tylar led Hunter off in search of them, and Minisa led Darling away upstairs to find Sansa secretly teaching Rod needlework in her bedroom. Their pups, near identical things with deep red colouring like the three siblings' hair, sat at their feet. Sansa had called hers Lady – Minisa wished she'd thought of that – and Rod his Dusk.

He jumped. "Please don't tell Mother!"

"You know you shouldn't be doing that," Minisa scolded.

"But I was just–"

"Go on, out!"

Rod left, dejected, and almost walked straight into Lyarra and her pup, Nightlight, so named for her large silver eyes.

"Make sure the halls are clean!" Minisa called after them.

Everything was to be cleaned ahead of the King's arrival, though the direwolves were more of a hindrance than a help. Hoster's Torrhen spent his time chasing the mops. The worst instigator, however, had to be Medgar's dark grey Starfall, who spent his time trying to undo any work done.

Bran and Mariah's pups, Summer and Jenny, were among the least troublesome, as they spent most of their time outside with their owners, who searched for trees to climb. Rickon and Lelani's pups, Shaggydog and Fluffy, stayed in the nursery with them.

By far the oddest though, were those owned by the bastard triplets. Jon had named his Ghost, and he followed him everywhere, never making a sound. Aden's Spirit, too, was silent. Alys's Moonsight was vocal – and growled at any attempt to approach her, much to her delight.

"Now I shan't have to deal with anyone," she declared.

Winterfell buzzed with energy as the King's arrival grew closer. Chambers were cleaned and prepared, the passageways were washed, and the children lectured to be on their best behaviour. The boys had their hair cut, and after a talk with their father, fabric dye was produced to turn Alys's silver locks black, though nothing could be done about her eyes.

At last the arrival was upon them, and the inhabitants of Winterfell gathered in the courtyard. Cat glanced around the courtyard, checking the banners, and startled as she found Bran atop the castle wall, Mariah just beneath him. "Brandon! Mariah!"

Bran grinned as he scrambled down. Mariah followed quickly behind.

"I saw the king!" Bran shouted. "He's got hundreds of people!"

Cat cuffed his shoulder. "How many times have I told you: No climbing! And you took Mariah with you?"

"He didn't take me," Mariah protested. "I followed!"

"But he's coming right now!" Bran waved his hands eagerly. "Down our road!"

Cat frowned down at him. "I want you to promise me. No more climbing."

Bran looked at his feet. "I promise."

Cat sighed. "D'you know what?"

"What?"

"You always look at your feet before you lie. Run and find your father. Tell him the king is close."

Bran nodded and hurried away, closely followed by Mariah and their two rapidly growing wolf pups. They found their father in the main hall, along with Edwyle, Minisa, and Lyarra, finalising preparations. Their three wolf pups were playing with the corner of a tablecloth.

"Father!" Bran shouted. "Father, he's almost here!"

Ned smiled down at them from the head table. "Then we'd better get outside. Come along, you three." He frowned at them. "And don't leave your pups to cause trouble."

"No father," chorused the three.

The children followed him outside and to where Cat, Rickon and Lelani in arms, had gathered the rest of the family and was lining the children up in order of age, with the bastard children just after Mariah. Alys wore her dark hair loose, hiding her telltale eyes behind her fringe. She held her arms out towards the toddler twins. "Lady Stark, do you want me to..?"

"No, I do not!" Cat snapped.

"But I could…" Alys mumbled, and bowed her head as an indication. Cat looked down at the twins, huffed, and shoved Rickon into Alys's arms.

"Don't drop him."

"Of course not, Lady Stark."

Cat passed Lelani to Jon and walked back up the line of her children. "Where are Arya and Medgar?"

The siblings glanced at each other and shook their heads.

Cat groaned and took her place in line as the first horse, a large white strider, entered the gates, ridden by a young man with a golden complexion, followed by a larger, hulking man. Behind them rode another, younger boy, with that same golden hair and skin.

"Minisa," Cat hissed. "Where are Arya and Medgar?"

Minisa, accustomed by now to being her siblings' keeper, stepped back out of line to glance around the courtyard. "I don't– oh, wait."

"We don't have time–" Cat hissed, but Minisa had already slipped away with a target in mind. More riders entered the gates, with banners in hand. Minisa darted over to a tall wagon, where Arya and Medgar, both wearing metal helmets, were perched on the wheel for a better viewpoint. Minisa caught their collars. "Got you! Come on, you need to get in line."

"But–" Arya protested.

"Come on!" Minisa scolded, pulling them towards the rest of their family. Arya and Medgar groaned, but allowed themselves to be shoved over. They darted past their parents to find their place in line.

"Hey, hey, hey," Ned called, hurrying after them. "What are you doing with these on?" He pulled off their helms and passed them to servants behind him.

"Move!" Arya muttered, pushing Bran aside to get in line. He stumbled into Mariah, who crashed into Alys's leg. Aden caught her arm before she could fall, drop Rickon, or both. She smiled.

"Thanks."

A large, decorative coach pulled by white horses thundered into the courtyard, followed by one of the fattest men the Stark siblings had ever seen on horseback.

"That's Father's King Robert?" Medgar whispered to Arya.

She stifled a giggle. "Where's the imp?"

"I don't see him."

"Shush would you?" hissed Sansa.

King Robert heaved himself from his horse onto the dismounting block, and those gathered in the courtyard knelt. Liya glanced at their father, who was staring incredulously at his old friend. She hid her own smile in her cloak.

The King approached their father and signalled for them to rise. Ned rose first, followed by Cat, and then their children, more simultaneously. At the end of the row, Aden stood before his siblings and helped them up in turn, Jon first and then Alys. She kept her head bowed over Rickon.

Jon glanced down the long row of his siblings to where King Robert was looking their father over.

"Your Grace," Ned said.

"You've got fat," he replied.

"He's one to talk," Aden muttered.

Alys kicked him. "Shh. Don't draw attention."

Her brothers nodded and closed ranks in front of her.

Ned looked the King up and down. He burst into laughter and pulled him in for a hug, patting his back.

"It's good to see you," Ned said.

"It's been too long," King Robert agreed, turning to his side. "Cat!"

"Your Grace," she replied, dipping a neat curtsy.

King Robert shook his head, turning back to Ned. "Nine years. Why haven't I seen you? Where the hell have you been?"

"Guarding the North for you, Your Grace," Ned replied. "Winterfell is yours."

A coachman stepped up to open the coach door, and Queen Cersei stepped out, followed by her seven smaller children. Arya leant to one side to get a better look. "Where's the Imp?"

Rod frowned at them. "Stop it, you're embarrassing us!"

Minisa leant back to frown at her bickering siblings. "Stop arguing, all of you! Arya, stop bothering your siblings! Sansa, stop aggravating her!"

"I'm not aggravating her!"

"You–" Minisa jerked back into place as King Robert approached Robb to her left. "Who have we here?"

Robb bowed and held his hand out. King Robert took it. "You must be Robb."

"Yes, your Grace."

King Robert turned to his crib-siblings, lined up in order of birth – though they had all been born within hours of each other. "Which must make these the others from your brood."

Cat pressed her lips into a tight line. Ned reached out to catch her wrist. There were enough jokes about her first pregnancy resulting in a whole wolf's litter; she didn't need the King himself adding to them.

"Yes, your Grace. This is Minisa, Liya, Edwyle, and Tylar."

King Robert chuckled as he walked down the line, stopping at Hoster. "And you'd be the next one?"

"Hoster, your grace."

"Which makes this Lyarra." He smiled at the red-haired girl. "Named in honour of your aunt."

"Yes, your Grace."

Rodrik was next, barely managing a bow and stuttering out a greeting. King Robert laughed and clapped his shoulder. "Don't be so shy boy! And you must be Sansa."

Sansa curtsied. "Yes, your Grace."

"My, you're a pretty one." He frowned down at Medgar. "Ned, you had too many children. This one is?"

Cat turned a vivid shade of red. Edwyle stepped out of line to take her arm. "We're happy just the way we are, Mother."

"Medgar," said Medgar. "And this is my twin sister, Arya."

"Mm." King Robert moved on to Bran. "Show us your muscles."

Bran grinned and flexed his arms.

"You'll be a soldier." He looked down at Mariah. "Pretty little lady."

Mariah giggled. By the coach, one of the small, golden haired princesses gave Bran a little wave. He smiled and returned it.

King Robert glanced the twins over. "And these must be the latest. Cute."

Behind him, Cersei approached Ned and Cat. Ned inclined his head. "My queen."

King Robert returned to him, overlooking the triplets. Jon let out a breath of relief.

"Take me to your crypt," Robert said. "I want to pay my respects."

Cersei frowned. "We've been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait."

The King brushed her off and turned to Ned. "Ned."

Ned led Robert down to the Winterfell crypts and took a burning torch to light their way. "Tell me about Jon Arryn.

Robert shook his head. "One minute he was fine, and then … burned right through him, whatever it was. I loved that man."

"We both did."

"He never had to teach you much. You were always the sensible one. But me … You remember me at sixteen? All I wanted to do was crack skulls and fuck girls. He showed me what was what."

Ned cast Robert a look. He had evidently not remembered many of the lessons, over the years. "Aye."

"Don't look at me like that," Robert grumbled. "Not his fault I didn't listen." He sighed. "I need you, Ned. Down at Kings Landing. Not up here, where you're no damn use to anybody."

"I'm of use to my family," Ned replied. "Cat can't handle all the children on her own. They're… a handful. And who would guard the North?"

"You can bring some of them with you," Robert replied. "Those daughters of yours… they're being wasted hidden away up here. Lord Eddard Stark, I would name you the Hand of the king."

Ned knelt before him. "I'm not worthy of the honor."

Robert laughed. "I'm not trying to honor you. I'm trying to get you to run my kingdom while I eat, drink, and whore my way to an early grave. Damn it, Ned, stand up."

Ned rose to his feet, and Robert took his arm.

"You helped me win the Iron Throne, now help me keep the damn thing. We were meant to rule together."

Ned saw an image of Alys's purple eyes, her dyed hair and nerves about the royal visit.

Robert shook his head. "If your sister had lived, we would have been bound by blood." He smiled. "Well, it's not too late for that. I have sons and daughters, you have daughters and sons. We'll join our Houses.

He'd have to find a way to hide Alys forever, if they did that. To Essos, perhaps, where her uncles and aunts were. Ned turned matters over in his mind as they continued through the crypts to Lyanna's grave.

"Did you have to bury her in a place like this?" Robert asked. "She should be on a hill somewhere with the sun and the clouds above her."

"She was my sister," Ned replied. "This is where she belongs."

Robert reached up to touch the statue's cheek. "She belonged with me. In my dreams, I kill him every night."

Ned shook his head, thinking of Alys upstairs, so oblivious of her heritage. "It's done, Your Grace. The Targaryens are gone.

"Not all of them."