Even for a boy who was told everything it was still a lot to take in. For five years Brynden trained him, taught him how to use the Weirwood network, and taught him how to look beyond what the human eyes could see, through the eyes of the trees, the animals, the birds. He taught him how to look into the past, and access the knowledge of the Weirwood. All towards one purpose, to stop the long night. But the boy had another goal, to save his family. Brynden told him the fate of his family, and how each of them would perish. And the boy wanted to save them. But he wanted to know exactly what had led to their deaths. It took him five years but Brynden had shown it to him, his father being beheaded, his mother's throat sliced, his younger brother's fall, his half-brother betrayed at the watch, his youngest brother shot down like an animal, his younger sister's rape and his youngest sister's murder.
"Where's me? I didn't see my fate. Did I survive?" the boy asked.
"You were not supposed to live" his mentor replied.
"I was not supposed to live? What do you mean?" the boy asked.
"Your twin brother was supposed to live, not you. My visions show me as much. Yet here you stand. Something changed that killed your twin and saved you."
"That's not normal. How do you swap the lives of two yet-to-be-born babies like that?"
"Magic. There are spells, dark and powerful. Who used it I don't know, but whoever did has plans for you. Think it a blessing and do not question it. You have a purpose, stick to it and save the world from the Darkness that approaches.
"Show me Robb's life. I want to see the brother whose life was sacrificed for mine."
The sound of hammer and anvil pierced the otherwise silent atmosphere in the yard. Jon and Cregan stood watching the blacksmith do his work. It was a fine thing he made, thin as a needle and sharp at only the tip. A sword made for poking holes rather than slashing enemies in half.
"Arya would like this gift," Cregan said, making Jon smile.
"A better needle than the one she is forced to work with" Jon replied cheekily.
"A sword for the wall?" a foreign voice had Jon and Cregan turn, their eyes falling on Jaime Lannister who approached them.
"Neither of us is going to the Wall," Jon told him, making Jaime look a little surprised.
"Aren't you? I assumed a bastard's place was at the wall. Since he can't inherit anything that is" the words made Jon ball his hands into fists, the discomfort of the words clear on his face.
"That might be the case for the South, but here even baseborn children can carve their way to the top" Cregan cut in with a smile. "Jon's place is here, by my side. I'm his brother and he is mine. He'll have more than just things to inherit."
"Will he now" Jaime smirked, "your mother won't be too happy about it."
"Mother won't have a say in certain matters" Cregan argued back.
The Kingsguard eyed the heir of Winterfell closely, a small smirk on his lips. "I heard you beat Joffrey yesterday. I can see the fire that did it. You left quite a mark on him."
"A redness that faded by the time he returned from the hunt" Cregan agreed. "He sparred and spars usually have this. Or has the Master at Arms in the Red Keep not prepared him like that?" he asked. "And something as small as that in a spar is better than him being harmed in actual combat where blows could kill him. He might hate me for it and when he ascends the Throne I might end up facing some consequences, but at least he'd be wary of just charging into an enemy and expecting them to keel over for him."
Jaime Lannister laughed at the small rant Cregan made. Then he clapped him on the shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze before walking away from them. Jon came up to Cregan and raised an eyebrow at him. "Did you really think about all that during the spar?" the half-brother asked.
"Of course not. But I'm not about to tell Jaime Lannister that I wanted to whack the Prince around for how condescending he was" Cregan muttered to him, making Jon snort.
They were all gathered in the yard soon enough as the party prepared to leave. With Ned Stark being named Hand of The King, he was taking a sizeable portion of the staff with him, along with some of the family. Sansa was going to be there, as the Prince's betrothed she was being taken to get used to the Southern Court. Arya was being taken as well, so she could become more Southern than she was. Cregan had tried to stop his father from taking her, but his mother insisted on it. Much to his frustration. But he had been able to keep Bran back. The boy was disappointed that he would not be able to go with them, but when he heard that Cregan wanted him to stay back so he could teach Bran about Lordly duties and train him more vigorously, he had been excited to stay.
"You look after your mother now and listen to what she has to say. You two will clash on many things but never disregard her opinions. She has run Winterfell with me for many years, she knows what she's doing."
"Aye, father" the two embraced and pulled back, but not before Cregan grabbed his father by his forearm. "Do not trust the Spider or the Mockingbird. And show no mercy to the lions" he whispered, earning a strange look from his father. Cregan could not tell his father about the Children of The Forest or the Three-Eyed Raven, because the man simply would not believe him. He was of the North, but his Vale upbringing was too prominent to let him believe in these myths. He had tried to, told him about a dream where he saw a Stag being murdered by a Direwolf. But even when the event came to pass, he had chosen to call it a coincidence and not believe it. So cryptic messages were the best he could do and hoped his father would listen.
The man moved away from him and to his mother, while Cregan went to his sisters. First was Sansa, who was preparing to enter the carriage.
"Father is not used to you or Arya's needs and wants. Be nice to him please" Cregan said, making Sansa turn to look at him.
"I'm always nice" the girl lifted her chin proudly. Brother and sister shared a glance before Sansa came back to him and they embraced tightly.
"I'm serious" the elder brother whispered against his younger sister's hair. "Father will have many duties up there, more than he had here. Look after yourself, look after Arya. She can be a handful, but she is our sister. And Starks always stick together. Promise me."
Sansa pulled back and gave a meek nod. "I promise" she whispered softly. Cregan bid her goodbye with a kiss on the forehead before moving to Arya.
"You heard what I said to Sansa?" he asked and Arya nodded. Getting on one knee he ruffled Arya's hair. "You're more a brother to me than a sister" he joked, chuckling when Arya slapped his hand away. "Sansa is not like you, she can't fight to defend herself, nor will she speak up about something that is bothering her if it's not within the family. Look out for her and yourself, okay? You got Jon's gift, right?" he asked and Arya nodded enthusiastically, "train with it. Such a gift is not just for anyone. Master it, and protect our family."
"I will" Arya puffed her chest out before tackling Cregan for a hug. "I'll look after them, I promise" she mumbled softly.
The party eventually left and the people returned to their respective tasks. Soon the day drifted to night and just after dinner Cregan called for a meeting in the Solar that consisted of his mother, Maester Luwin and himself.
"I think we should start seeing the matters of Winterfell now. The positions that need to be filled and the accounts as well. So many feasts… we need to see how much the royal visit has cost us" Cregan said.
"Aye," the Maester added. "We need a new Steward, a captain of the guards, a new master of horses, stableboys, apprentices for the forge and servants as well."
"I have one person that I want," Cregan said, "I appoint Jon as a Steward."
The declaration was met by silence, an uncomfortable one from Maester Luwin and a stony one from Lady Stark. "I will not have that Bastard in any position of power here" she replied just as stonily.
"And I want him as my Steward" Cregan replied curtly. "He has a level head on him and has the capability to carry out the plans I lay for him. He has been following orders all his life."
"I will not-"
"I am the acting Lord of Winterfell," Cregan said stonily, "and I say Jon will be my steward, end of discussion" he looked back to the Maester who looked uncomfortable standing there. "Bran will accompany me in every step and every meeting we have starting tomorrow. He is going to be a Lord in his own right one day, I want him to understand the decisions I take and how to handle this responsibility."
"Yes my Lord" the Maester bowed.
"I think that would be enough for now. Maester Luwin please prepare the expense list for us to review tomorrow. We will sit for a meeting same time as today."
"My Lord" the Maester bowed once more and left. Lady Stark who had been sternly silent for so long went to leave as well but Cregan stopped her.
"Shut the door, please. I need to speak to you" the young man said in a gentle tone.
"What does my Lord wish to speak to me about?" Lady Stark asked testily and Cregan held himself from rolling his eyes.
"It's about Jon and his parentage. You will want to know this" the boy said, making his mother's gaze harden.
Two young children were sparring against one another, one of them a boy and the other a girl. And not too far from them was another pair, one of them drinking from his flask while the other, the girl just walked with him. The boy offered the flask to her.
"I probably shouldn't drink anymore," the girl said nervously. "Father only lets us have one cup at feasts."
"My princess can drink as much as she wants," the boy said, offering the flask to her once more. This time accepted it thankfully. The sound of the sticks clashing drew the attention of the boy away from the girl and he followed, only to find the other pair who were sparring.
"Arya!" the older girl shouted.
Arya turned around, exclaiming in pain when the stick hit her arm when she looked away. "What are you doing here? Go away!"
"Your sister?" the Prince asked, stepping forward, "and you are?" he asked the boy.
"The butcher's boy" Sansa answered.
"A butcher's boy who wants to be a knight?" the Prince scoffed. "Very well, let's see how good you are," he said, drawing his blade. The sharp cry of a raven cut off anyone that went to speak. They all looked up and noticed a murder of ravens circling them.
"Damn birds" the Prince looked away and moved towards the butcher's boy. But stopped when the circling ravens descended on him. Blindly he swung his blade, hitting nothing. The boy and Arya took this opportunity to run while Sansa ran to get help. By the time help arrived, Prince Joffrey was on the ground clutching his left eye, from where blood was seeping out freely. And in the trees nearby the ravens watched the Prince being taken away, silent and ominous.