Chapter 17: Seeds of War
The darkness began to feel like home to Ramsay, he'd been imprisoned for months now with no end in sight. The dungeons emanated a foul odour of excretement and vermin, none who entered could stop their nose recoiling in distaste. The smell burned the nostrils and caused some to retch upon leaving, this had become Ramsays home. Amongst the dark he constantly tasted blood from the savage beatings the Stark men gave him on a regular basis. Never knowing when they'd come he just knew to cower whenever he wasn't alone, it stopped the worst of the blows knocking him unconscious which had happened more times than he could count. The real torture though was when they came scrabbling for him, the scent of blood drawing them close, their whiskers twitching eagerly. It seemed his captors knew when they were coming for they would come shortly after. Every time it would be just in time to prevent him being overwhelmed by their oily, disease ridden bodies. He feared the rats the most, because even though the guards beat him they didn't kill him. The swarm of rats on the other hand he knew were not so kind, they smelled blood and they wanted to taste it. And so this was Ramsays reality under captivity beneath Winterfell, dodging blows from guards and attack from the rats whilst trying to rest and eat the mostly rotten scraps of food they brought him. In silence he waited, patience he thought to himself, patience, one day I'll be free and then I'll repay them in kind.
In Wintertown the dark stallion clattered through the cobblestone alleys, rider urging him on splashing through filthy puddles and jumping over fallen debris. At last the horse reached the castle gates and was permitted entry by the guards. Slowly the stallion trotted into the inner yard where Benjen dismounted and led him into the stable hastily rubbing him down before leaving him to rest. Inside the castle was warm, and Benjen quickly stripped his gloves and scarf from his body. The prickle of heat showing on his brow, he strode in search of his brother and felt his presence across the castle. Making his way through his childhood home he smiled wistfully at memories of running wild in these corridors. At one point he stopped as he remembered jumping from a shadowed corridor and scaring his sister while Ned chased them both. Melancholy stung his heart, he missed Lyanna more than he cared to admit. His mind wandered to thoughts of his sister and where she was. If she was still alive.
His thoughts were interrupted by Maester Lewin coming up beside him, he blinked and smiled at the old Maester.
"Welcome home lad, looking for Ned?"
Benjen smiled and nodded, before he could say anything Maester Lewin bustled him along.
"I'm just going there myself, he hasn't left Brans side since he was injured and the boy hasn't yet woken. Come, you've arrived at a most opportune time. We have much to discuss"
Benjen raised an eyebrow and silently followed listening to the Maester as he updated him on recent events. Arriving at Bran's room Benjen felt immediately a wave of anguish wash over him. His chest constricted in response and he prepared himself for whatever was awaiting him in the room.
"If Gods were kind they would've claimed the boy," murmured Maester Lewin as he pushed open the door. Warmth swept outwards as Benjen stepped in and he gazed around the room. The only people present were Ned and Catelyn, her eyes were red rimmed and anguished while Ned stared blankly at the wall. A ghost of a smile wafted across Ned's face and disappeared behind his pain, Benjen clapped his brother on the back and nodded grimly to Catelyn. Slowly he sat next to Ned and looked over Brans broken legs as Maester Lewin tended the wounds. In some places his legs had been crushed in such a way Benjen knew the boy would never walk again. His stomach rolled as if to empty itself and he braced his gut with his hand, forcing to remove his gaze. This was unusual for him after all the things he had seen beyond the Wall.
"Brother," he started not knowing what to say next, "what happened? Who did this?"
Ned shrugged while looking pained, "We know nothing other than he was hanging from a cliff face crushed under a boulder. He has not woken yet"
"Who found him?" queried Benjen incredulously.
"Jojen Reed," whispered Catelyn, "with some wolves"
Benjen looked across to her and opened his mouth to speak but he had nothing to say.
"How is Jon?" asked Ned suddenly.
Benjen smiled a little, "He's doing fine, he has an uphill battle that one and not always with those around him"
Ned smiled briefly again before gazing back at Bran, his eyes filling with fury as his son lay helpless and injured.
"I know this was the work of someone brother, but I can't prove it!"
The ferocity with which Ned spoke startled Benjen, he raised his eyebrows.
"And who might that be-" he started to say before Catelyn exclaimed drowning out his voice.
She threw herself onto the side of the bed tears gushing from her eyes as she grasped Bran's hand, the boys eyes were open. He was staring at Benjen with a look in his eyes that unnerved him to the core.
"Bran," said Ned his voice thick with emotion, "we prayed, every moment that you would pull through"
"I know," croaked Bran through cracked lips and a dry mouth.
Catelyn jumped up and brought him water which he tried to drink greedily but Maester Lewin took over sternly telling him to take it easy. Catelyn moved to stand behind Bran while the Maester slowly let him drink, she smoothed his hair and kissed his head numerous times.
Bran drank as much as he was allowed and sat back licking his lips, his thirst quenched for now. He tried to move and groaned in pain and Maester Lewin tried to give him milk of the poppy.
"No Maester, not yet" he said weakly, his face pale from the pain shooting through his body.
"Come lad you must drink this, the pain will send you into shock again. We don't want to lose you again, please" he pressed forward again, this time Bran submitted but only the tiniest amount.
"Have more my Lad"
Bran shook his head, "No," he said firmly this time, "I must have a clear head"
Everyone looked puzzled and glanced at each other warily, Catelyn grasped his hand and kissed it before saying gently, "A clear head for what son?"
"To tell you what happened to me and who pushed us from the cliff"
Ned lunged forward and said barely above a whisper, "Be careful lad, there are spies among the castle. We can't risk betrayal"
Bran stared deeply at his father, "There are no spies in this room, they are in the kitchens and the stables, one of them is even in Aryas room right now"
Ned looked confused for a moment, "How can you know that?"
"Bran tell us what happened" pressed Catelyn.
Bran turned his gaze to his mother, his dark eyes deep pools of darkness, serious and foreboding.
"Arya and I rode deep into the forest, deeper than usual when I heard voices on the wind, quite far away. We moved towards them to see who it was and there was a meeting happening in the forest on a cliff edge-"
Bran went to continue but the door burst open and a breathless soldier looked around the room.
"My Lord, fire in the stables! The horses need saving, please come!"
Reluctantly Ned rose to his feet and ran from the room ordering Benjen to stay with Bran as he ran. Catelyn rose to follow but glanced back from the doorway tears in her eyes as she took in Bran's broken form.
"Mother," said Bran softly stirring Catelyn from her anguish, she raised her eyes to meet his. They exchanged a moment between each other.
"Mother," repeat Bran, "go to Arya's room, whoever you find there is a traitor. They'll give up the others but you must go now, take the first soldier you find"
"Bran-" started Catelyn but she was cut off.
"If the boy is right Catelyn we must find them, we can't risk another betrayal" spoke Benjen seriously, reluctantly Catelyn turned and hurried on.
Benjen watched her leave before turning back to his nephew, they were alone.
"Why do I get the feeling you wanted to speak to me alone?" he asked Bran with a slight smile.
Bran smirked briefly before answering, "Because that's exactly what I wanted Uncle"
Benjen regarded Bran warily and resumes his seat, "Tell me what it is you must say Lad"
"Soon," said Bran, "but first you must get in that cupboard"
The door creaks and Bran glances up, Lyarra is in the doorway. Benjen follows Brans gaze and an odd expression crosses his face.
"No Lyarra," says Bran, an image of the wolf dead on the floor flashed in his mind her blood smeared all around her, "go get Father. I have Uncle Benjen"
The wolf regards Benjen before trotting into the darkness, Brans eyes are on his Uncles face.
"She still remembers you," he says softly causing Benjen to look down at his feet.
"I'm still wrapping my head around it if I'm honest. Finding out your mother is-"
"There's more than one strange thing in our family," replies Bran softly with a slight chuckle, "but for now Uncle please. I need you in that cupboard and don't come out until you know it's time"
"What are you talking about Bran?" said Benjen incredulously
"Just do it" hissed Bran, "they're coming and I need you to hide so they think I'm alone"
Reluctantly Benjen stepped across the room and slowly closed the cupboard door. Moments later, Brans door crashed open and a single assailant stood smiling cruelly in the door, the light of the fire glinting off a Valyrian steel dagger he held in his hand.
Without a word he advanced on Bran who lay defenceless in bed, legs bloodied and broken. Undeterred, the man crossed the floor quick and quiet, dagger raised. He brought it down hard into Brans chest, but to his attackers surprise Bran grasped his wrist as he thrust downward. With an iron tight grip he held his attacker mobilised, his grip unusually strong. The man's face contorted in confusion, at Brans strength and the look of absolute calm on his face.
"Only one of us is dying tonight, and it's not me" Bran said softly and calmly, the attacker grunts in response and bears down trying to overpower him.
Brans arm was aching in agony from the strength needed to hold his attacker firm, at the moment he thought he would falter the cupboard crashed open and an enraged Benjen leapt from the cupboard. In one stroke of his sword, impaled the attacker who crumpled to his knees. Much to Bran's relief, his arms still ached and he looked down at the knife laying across his palms. In the final moments of the struggle the blade had sliced into his hands so the blade was smeared with blood. It felt warm and slippery but he examined the blade with his inscrutable gaze while Benjen yanked his sword from the attackers back. A sickening spray of blood gushed onto the floor at his feet and he stepped back raising his gaze to Bran. With a start he saw blood, but relaxed when he saw the blade in Brans hands and the cut across his palm. Turning to look around him Benjen grasped a discarded shirt and wrapped Brans hand tight enough to stem the bleeding. Both Starks breathed heavily from the struggle and the adrenalin, Bran smiled a little as his Uncle wrapped up his hand.
"You saved me Uncle, thank you. Now sit down and let me tell you how I'm going to save you"
Benjen met Bran's gaze and the colour drained from his face.
"Save me? From what?"
"From your next range north of the Wall, dark wings cloud your path uncle. I see multiple paths for you, none of them easy all of them branching from one event. An event I can't stop but I can only give warning for…."
Benjen listened transfixed but not completely convinced, Bran flicked his gaze to his Uncles face.
"I can hear your thoughts Uncle, they're loud and doubtful. I can see I need to show you I speak truth"
Benjen let out a hard breath and looked to his feet, "You'd be surprised what I believe after being North of the Wall lad. I've seen things I never thought possible, I've seen my mother in the form of a wolf, and I've seen the weapons forged by your brothers hands. But I have trouble believing your words I'll admit"
Bran was silent for a while just gazing at his Uncle, light from the fire flickering across his face as the flames danced.
"Tomorrow go to the biggest brothel in Wintertown and ask for Ros," spoke Bran calmly but Benjens gut sunk, "she is your daughter, she wears a Stark medallion you gifted to her mother last time you saw her. She died and passed it to her daughter, it's time you brought her to us"
For several minutes Benjen just stared at his nephew, not comprehending his words. Slowly he began to understand, and he remembered the woman he gave his medallion to. A beautiful woman from Wintertown, she was a seamstress at the time and he knew he could never marry her. He left her to protect her, but now it seems she had a hard life which caused his chest to constrict a little. For a moment he was lost in the softness of her skin, the whisper of her voice against his ear, and the smile that warmed him from head to toe. Dead, she was dead and he had a daughter. Inside a small spark was ignited, he never knew he wanted a child until he knew he had one.
"How can you know this?" challenged Benjen in a whisper.
Bran turned the Valyrian Steel knife in his hands a few times before he answered just as quietly, "The same way I know it was Cersei Lannister who sent me this"
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Only the closest confidants of the Starks stood around Brans bed, and at this moment there were very few trusted enough to be present. Maester Lewin and Benjen stood on Brans left, Ned and Catelyn to his right. Ned held the Valyrian Steel blade in his hand turning it over in his hands.
"It's a bonny blade, true Valyrian Steel and all. Whoever sent this doesn't mind losing a priceless blade"
Maester Lewin looked deeply troubled at the blade, "My Lord if what Bran says is true we are truly in a difficult position. The Lannisters would-"
"They're our allies," interrupted Ned abruptly, "I don't believe Tywin had any part in this"
"You can't trust that man!" retorted Maester Lewin.
"Fathers right," interjected Bran, "Tywin is not involved"
"Bran you've made some serious and deadly allegations," spoke Maester Lewin sternly, "you have accused Cersei, the Queen, of murder and attempted murder! We could all lose our heads for such an accusation!"
"No one is losing their heads Maester," said Ned confidently.
"Cersei didn't actually murder," corrected Bran, "Arya is alive…."
Catelyns eyes shot up, "Alive? How? She was pushed off a cliff so high none could survive that fall"
"Arya lives Mother, but she's cloaked in shadows. I can't reach her, it's like she's….lost"
Catelyn crumpled into the chair in tears, Ned wrapped an arm around her soothing her which was failing.
"Can you tell us anything else about Arya?" pleaded Ned, "is she safe?"
Bran tried to reach her but he couldn't, "I'm sorry Father. I can't find her, all I know is she's alive"
"What are we to do next?" huffed Maester Lewin, "To accuse the Queen without evidence is our deaths"
Catelyn looked up with bright red eyes, "We have evidence, I caught the traitors because of Bran"
Maester Lewin looked astonished and was lost for words.
"No good comes of openly accusing the Queen," cut in Bran causing everyone to look at him in surprise, "War is coming for us whether we accuse her or not, she has given her support to the Bolton's. Our enemies plot as we speak Father"
Ned looked enraged, "Enemies? More than one house supports Bolton?"
Bran nodded in response but did not elaborate. Ned turned from the bed and paced angrily the small space available to him, Benjen watched warily.
"I don't even know what to think!" Exclaimed Ned angrily, "After all these years and all the things I did to make the North united…."
"Ned, I never thought I would say this but I think we need to listen to Bran," spoke Benjen quietly, "He knew he was going to be attacked, he knew to send Lyarra to find you. Now is the time to use his gifts to decide what our next move is"
"He's just a boy!" exploded Ned, "how has my world crumbled so quickly that I need my son to tell me how to deal with my enemies!"
"He's not just a boy," continued Benjen, "he has the sight, use it"
Still facing away from his brother Ned slumped his shoulders and turned, shooting a guilty glance to Bran.
"I'm sorry son," he mumbled, "it's not that I don't want to listen…."
"We don't have time for this Father," spoke Bran sternly, "if we don't act now war comes faster than we can manage. I've seen how events unfold, the many paths that we take stem from one action. If we don't take action the Stark family is as good as dead, all of us in this room will die"
Ned rubbed a large hand up and down his face at the unfamiliar council he was part of.
"Tell me son, what do we need to do?"
Bran swallowed before speaking, "We need to release Ramsay Bolton"
The room immediately erupted in consternation, Bran sat and patiently waited for the loud voices and arguing to die down.
"If we don't release him Lord Bolton will come and remove him by force and with that our home will be taken from us. If we release Ramsay they will continue to plot but it buys us time, other events will take place and they will still come but we have more chance of success if we stall that eventuality."
"It's not so easy to just release a prisoner of that standing Bran," spoke Maester Lewin as if he were a small child, "it would show your Father as being weak, and easily bending to the pressure of the banner men. It will make more turn against him"
Bran smiled grimly, "That is true," he conceded, "but that won't be the case if you remove some of his fingers. His hands are his most dangerous weapon, he flays with both hands. Cut him so he can never hold a knife again. The banner men will not be so quick to change sides"
Ned raised his eyebrows and looked to Benjen, who also looked taken aback at the brutality of Brans suggestion. It was a good suggestion, and something none had considered.
"Lord Bolton will savagely attack us for mutilating his heir," warned Catelyn from the chair she sat in, "if we do this Ned be prepared for a vendetta which may destroy us all"
Ned looked at everyone in the room, his gaze lingering on Benjen who seemed to nod ever so slightly.
Breathing out hard he conceded, "We release the Bolton boy, less six fingers. Take one for every month I've had to suffer housing him as my prisoner"
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Roose Bolton sat upright on his horse, fury boiled just beneath the surface of his serene face as he waited for his son to return. Archers waited in the trees to attack the Starks and kill them before they could ride back to Winterfell. Just over the ridge behind Roose waited his army of northerners ready to topple the Starks and seize control of the North for himself. Calmly he waited and watched, soon it would all be over and he would be Warden of the North resting his feet on the flayed skin of Ned Stark and his wife. His mouth quirked a little at the thought of Ned's skin flayed on the floor in front of him. The satisfaction of ending the never ending feud between Bolton and Stark welled inside of him, yet on the surface of his face he showed no emotion. The horses grew restless and suddenly without warning they began to rear and dance about on the spot. Something spooked them, but nothing could be seen causing Roose to feel unease prickling up his neck. Scanning the scenery Roose spotted a wolf sitting calmly under a great tree, the only tree not infested with archers. She was sitting out of range of his men too, the pair locked eyes before she stood and slowly slunk away. Muttering orders to his men Roose urged his horse to follow her into the forest, commanding his men to remain until he gives the signal. The wolf didn't lead him far, she stood by the side of a fast running creek, sitting by Ned's feet. Ned was alone, except for the wolf and Ramsay attached to a chain like a dog and dragged all this way. With a drop of his heart he saw his sons hands were maimed, fingers missing and the remaining ones bent at odd angles. Ned caught the change in Roose's demeanour and smiled inside.
"As requested your son is being returned to you Lord Bolton" spoke Ned without emotion
Roose stepped forward close enough to see Ned and Ramsay, his son had an odd look in his eye.
"I requested his return but not his torture" he returned coolly.
"True," admitted Ned, "but if I was your prisoner I don't think I'd just lose a few fingers. Is that right?"
Roose didn't reply he just looked to Ramsay and stepped forward, the wolf growled savagely baring her teeth.
"Do you acknowledge the oath your family swore to mine? To serve us and abide by us? By receiving your son that oath is renewed and by the Old Gods, cannot be broken"
Roose faltered in his step and looked up somewhat nervously to Ned who regarded him seriously.
"To do so would unleash a terrible curse on your House and doom you to be destroyed in a most painful way"
The words washed over Roose and with dread he realised if he accepted back his son he would be bound to the Starks or subjected to the wrath of the Old Gods.
Roose regarded Ned for several moments before he replied, "I do not accept my son back from you. I will take him by force and your curse will rebound onto you"
Ned smiled unpleasantly and held up the leash attached to Ramsays collar, "Come and take him then"
Ramsay frantically shook his head but it was too late, Roose sounded the alarm to attack and all hell broke loose.
Before Roose's eyes Ned and the wolf disappeared as if they were ghosts and before he had time to act arrows came raining down on the Bolton's. Their own men fired on them, peppering both Roose and Ramsay with arrows from the bows of their own. Several struck Roose in the legs, one stuck from his arm and another straight through his gut. Ramsay had several along his legs and torso, narrowly avoiding being fatally shot. Roose managed to sound the call to halt and the arrows ceased raining down upon them, and an unearthly voice boomed around his mind shattering his senses momentarily.
"You accepted your sons return when you followed the wolf, by the Old Gods the curse is upon you"
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Benjen stepped into the brothel wracked with nerves, he hadn't thought he would visit this place let alone come here to find his daughter. The pretty women swooned around him fingering his black cloak and pleading with him to break his vows in their chambers. He shook them off with a smile and pressed a golden dragon into the Mistress to lead him to his daughter, a girl called Ros.
The Mistress smiled knowingly, "Ros is our most popular girl, men come from all over to lie with that beauty"
An odd sensation rose within Benjen at her words, he instantly wanted to slit everyone's throat who heard her words. Maintaining composure was difficult as they traversed the halls of the brothel, the sound of creaking beds and womens moans following him like malevolent ghosts. Several doors were still open and naked bodies writhing and thrusting at each other could be seen, faces contorted in passion and the throes of lust. Benjen muttered some obscenity under his breath as he steeled himself for what he was to find. At the top of the establishment stood a gilded door, with ornate handles and beautifully carved doors. Two weirwood trees with smiling lusty faces greeted him as carvings, the Mistress smiled at him as he nervously watched on. Without knocking she pushed open the double doors to dramatically reveal a wonderfully ornate room that looked as if royalty lived there. The walls were painted with murals of the old gods, weirwood trees and nature spirits cavorting along the walls laughing in joy and wonder. Benjen was stunned just with the room itself, and as he looked around his eyes fell on the woman known as Ros. She sat in a sheer gown sprawled across a carved Weirwood day bed, her long hair twisted into a stunning braid which cascaded along her hourglass body. Her skin was milky pale, smooth like marble and her eyes were grey and striking. She regarded him seductively and stood to come slinking across the room. Benjen suddenly become tongue tied as she slipped her body alongside his and ran her arm up his body. The Mistress smiled and upon leaving called out, "You only bought a half hour"
The door shut smartly behind them and Ros began talking to him, running her hands along his body pressing an ornate chalice of some heady drink into his hands.
Her words were muffled as if he was under water, eagerly she pressed the drink up to his mouth and encouraged him to drink. But Benjen remembered his purpose for being here and pushed the cup away, her demeanour changed to sullen and Benjen sat his head in his hands.
"Come my Lord, come to bed and drink with me," she purred, "let me kiss those worries away"
"There'll be no kissing" he retorted abruptly
She laughed and knelt behind him pressing her breasts against his body and running her hands down his chest.
"Fine, we don't have to kiss" she laughed with casual ease as she pressed the cup into his hand, "but first we have to drink"
Reluctantly Benjen brought the cup to his mouth, but as the liquid caught his lip he caught the girls gaze. There was an eagerness, too much eagerness, his senses immediately tensed, something was amiss.
Dramatically he threw the glass and leapt forward grasping Ros by her wrists and pushing her up against the decorative wall. She cried aloud in surprise and he moved close to her, "Do not say a word" he warned, pre empting her to scream and alert her Mistress. Swiftly he pressed a blade to her throat, "Sit" he commanded, "and listen"
At knife point shaking slightly Ros sat on the edge of the bed, despite a slight tremble she held her head high and put on a mask of bravery. Underneath though Benjen knew she was scared, not the way he wanted this to go.
"You tried to poison me," he said flatly, "what was in the cup?"
"Not poison my Lord," she purred, "just something to help you…..relax"
She smiled and his breath was taken away, her face lit up and her grey eyes seemed to sparkle. In that moment all he saw was her mother, and he was lost for words.
Ros caught the change in his expression and her face darkened a little.
"You're not here for what I think you are, am I right? Who are you?" her tone was cool, defensive even. Benjen sank into the nearest chair, surprised at its plush comfort and the perfumed scent it exuded. The scent immediately transported him back to her, her skin, her hair, that scent-it was exactly the same.
"I'm your father Ros," he breathed in a tumble of words, raising his eyes shamedly to look at her reaction.
Her face was immovable but she had grasped a medallion around her neck, the Stark medallion.
"Mother told me one day you'd come," she replied slowly with a constricted voice, her eyes were glistened with a sheen of tears.
"Your mother," smiled Benjen, "I should never have- I was wrong to leave her. I know that now but at the time……at the time I was too afraid. And then my sister disappeared-" his voice trailed off shaking his head slightly.
"I made mistakes, I know that. But you're a Stark, I want you to come with me"
Anger flashed across Ros' face, "You want me to leave everything I know and come with you just because you're my father?! And a Stark?" she spat the last words at him, Benjen closed his eyes absorbing her words.
He sighed, "I can't force you to do anything," he said softly, "your cousin told me where to find you. He told me it's time you came into the family…"
"Wait," she commanded angrily, "you're here because someone in the family told you to come get me?"
Her voice was incredulous, and enraged colour had flushed her cheeks.
"You knew about me my whole life then," she said flatly lifting her chin in defiance of the answer she believed he would say.
"No, I did not know about you, until yesterday. Your cousin, our whole family have these talents," he explained, "Your cousin can see futures, and pasts, he told me where to find you. Otherwise I would never have known"
"Mother never told you about me?" her voice and face had softened slightly, now there was hurt in her voice.
Benjen shook his head, "I never saw your mother again. Not after I joined the Nights Watch, I feared if I ever saw her again I'd lose my head for desertion for I would never have left her side had I returned"
For the first time Ros dropped her gaze, her face unreadable as she processed his words.
"I can't go with you, I'll never really belong there. Someone like me will never be able to escape what I am" she ended with bitterness, and refused to meet his gaze.
Benjen looked around the room, knowing what she said was right. But Brans words echoed in his mind, "I don't think you understand Ros, when Bran said to find you he meant it. You must come with me"
Benjen stood and approached his daughter, perched perfectly on the chaise lounge her skirts arranged elegantly around her she looked more like a noble woman than ever. Gingerly he held out his hand, gloved and black, "It's time to be with your family"
He spoke gently and smoothly, she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, for a moment it seemed she was to take his hand. His hand remained held out for her but she rose swiftly and ran sobbing from the room instead. Benjen stood in her wake watching her leave with a troubled expression on his face. Several minutes passed before the Mistress arrived, her face stern and unforgiving to forcefully remove him from the room.
"In all my years," she huffed gruffly, "such a beauty and a talent and not one man has reduced her to tears like you have. Dont come back here" she threatened and slammed the door shut behind him. Benjen stood bewildered in the cool breeze that did nothing to help the ominous shiver that slid down his back.
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Ashara had rushed to the docks at the news a ship was on the horizon. She had ordered her men to send first word of her sons return, and she had waited anxiously for them since they left. In the months they had been gone nothing had abated her worry, not even the presence of their wolves who seemed to sense her distress and never left her side. They were by her side now too, flanking her as they stood together on the docks watching the approaching ship. As it steadily sailed closer Asharas heart lifted, the boys were waving and smiling. A great weight lifted from her and she returned their wave, tears of joy splashing onto the jetty at her feet, and the wolves howling by her side welcoming them home.
Following an emotional reunion Ashara forbid her sons making a grand entrance.
"None can question why we celebrate your return" she whispered to them during their embrace, "You were simply away on family business and thats the end of it"
Still elated, the boys simply smiled and agreed.
"Did you get what we need?" she queried nervously.
"Yes," said Rickard solemnly, "we need to summon Oberyn"
Ashara's face darkened slightly, "Come show me what you found. I do have misgivings about what Oberyn might do once he has what he wants. He's not called the Red Viper for no reason," she warned as she led them from the docks, the wolves trotting along behind them.
In the castle they met in the safest place they knew, Ashara's personal chambers with her two most trusted guards. Rickard gently handed his mother Rhaenys gown, with a raised eyebrow she slowly turned it in her hands examining it closely.
With a frown she said with disappointment, "This could be a gown from any babe, do we have anything else?"
Rickard produced the necklace, a stylised dragon with a blazing sun beside it. Ashara's face lit up as it touched her dainty hands, it was a creation she recognised as it had been forged by a famous Dornish jeweller.
"This was Rhaenys necklace," she said with knowing, "I know the man whose hand this was forged by and I saw this in Elia's hands herself. Oberyn will recognise this immediately"
Rickard handed the gown to Edric and he transformed into Rhaenys form in moments. He stood before them as a young Dornish girl, with sparkling purple eyes and flecked black and silver hair. Ashara's eyes welled with tears, "She really takes after her mother"
Edric transformed back as Ashara was overcome with emotion, he crossed the room to embrace her. Rickard followed, embracing his mother and brother from above, the wolves whined and Ashara looked up.
"Boys, I have something to tell you," she said gravely, both boys stopped and looked at their mother confused.
"When you were absent I spent every moment with your wolves, they were my constant companions and I will admit that without them I fear I would've gone mad with worry," she smiled and held out her hands, the wolves crossed the room and let her run her hands along their sides.
"Having them with me soothed a lot of fear, but it also heightened my senses. I noticed I could hear peoples thoughts, and conversations behind closed doors and several rooms away. Connecting with the wolves I came to a realisation you've been disconnected from your Fathers people and its time you know more about where youre from and who you are. I think its time for you both to go to Winterfell"
The boys were silent, this was unexpected from their mother. She had never hidden their parentage from them, but had never suggested they spend time in the North.
"Is this because youre worried about Oberyn mother?" whispered Edric, she looked to her son and he saw her eyes wet with tears.
"I know Oberyn, he is extremely loyal and we have long history but he is changeable. I fear he will turn on us if he knows the extent of what we can do. Especially if he cant find what he's looking for, I worry this will never end and his fear of betrayal will turn him against us"
The room was silent, everyone present knew she spoke the truth, wiping her wet eyes she stood and picked up a scroll.
Turning back and looking down at her sons she held up the scroll, "Im planning to send this to Ned Stark today, you will leave in one week regardless of his reply"
Rickards face looked incredulous, "You will send us even if he refuses mother? Why?"
Ashara looked uncomfortable, "Im unsure," she started, "I've had dreams too, and I see you both clearly in the North with your Stark family. I saw great danger brewing there but I trust Ned, I know he will keep you safe"
The boys were speechless, their wolves came and sat before them with their golden eyes fixed on them and a slight whine in their throats.
Both boys smiled and ran their hands down the wolves backs, "Guess its time to go North" said Rickard softly, "what about Ned's wife mother? What do we tell her?"
Ashara looked troubled, "I know of her, and i cant be sure how she will react. It has been years since I've had word of what type of person she is. I can only speak for Ned, I know he cares for you both. He legitimised you as soon as he knew of you both"
Edric's mouth opened wide, "Legitimised? You never told us"
"You were children Ed, what would you have understood if id told you"
"It would've helped to know something," said Rickard with a hint of bitterness, "its not pleasant growing up thinking youre a bastard"
Ashara's face angered, "Who said youre a bastard? You bear the Stark name I thought it would be clear to all"
Rickard shrugged, "Other kids dont see a father around and they're cruel, its not worth punishing now mother years after the fact"
Ashara's face relaxed a little, and then smiled reaching out a hand each to her boys.
"I know what kind of men i raised. But theres only so much i can do," she sighed as they took her hands. They felt warm and stirred strong emotions within her, blinking back tears in her eyes she smiled warmly at both her boys.
"Its time you left the sands for the snows" she spoke with some finality and they knew better than to argue the point with her. Rickard and Edric exchanged a glance, they had never known any of their Fathers people other than the random visitors from the North that came by unexpectantly bringing money and trading with Ashara.
"Its time we summon Oberyn," said Ashara gravely, looking across to her trusted soldiers, "be ready for anything"
As soon as the scroll unfurled in his hands Oberyn was marching to the stables and saddling up his mare. She had made the harsh journey to Starfall before and he had no patience to arrive by ship. They are too slow for Oberyns liking, he paces and feels caged which does no one any good. An unhappy Red Viper is a dangerous one. Pushing his mare across the sand dunes he blinks the sand out of his eyes and removes the covering around his face to spit errant pieces of sand from his lips. After riding for several days he pulls up his mare on a tall sandune and looks across the landscape to the towering bright towers of Starfall. Unsure what to feel he pushes the mare forward into a headlong gallop for the gates all the while his intense gaze is fixed upon his destination.
The gates swung open for him as he trotted up to them and leaving the blazing heat he gladly entered into the coolness of the inner yard. Stiffly dismounting he was greeted by a stern guard who wordlessly led him through a maze of ornate hallways and up a wide gilded staircase with marble steps and lush purple carpet cascading down its centre like a soft waterfall. The sigil of House Dayne featured in the gilded metalwork of the staircase and periodically along the purple carpet. Detailed frescoes of Dornish history adorned the walls and Oberyn realised with a smirk he had never been this far into the castle itself. At last the guard opened double gilded doors with the star of House Dayne as its handles and seated within was Ashara, Rickard and Edric. Their faces were stern but softened when Oberyn entered and smiled, "I was pleased to receive your scroll," he began smoothly, "let's hope you have kept your promise and brought me something to help me in my quest"
Ashara waved a hand to the seat beside her, "Please sit Oberyn, we have much to discuss"
She nodded to the guard who closed the doors and stood guard within, Oberyn turned to her with raised eyebrow.
"This is not a good start dear Ashara when you surround yourself with armed men to speak with me"
Ashara smiled tiredly, "Oberyn I've not slept right since our last meeting, my dreams are full of shadows and my heart full of misgivings. Forgive me for being cautious when I feel the undercurrents of conflict all around me"
Again Oberyn flashed a smile, but a dangerous reckless smile that caused a chill to slide down Ashara's spine.
"My Lady Dayne you are describing how I feel every day, I am always prepared to go to war"
"Enough talk of war," interjected Rickard lightly, "Dorne is at peace and we are all friends"
Oberyn laughed and glanced at Ashara, "Yes Lad we are, for now"
"Oberyn," said Ashara softly and leant forward, "before we reveal what we possess I want to reaffirm our loyalty to House Martell. We have always been and will always be loyal to the rule of your family…."
Oberyn held up his hand, "Let me see what you have before I accept any pledges. Let's not forget you possess in one member of your House the ability to usurp mine"
Slightly dejected Ashara sat back looking troubled and signalled to Rickard to proceed. Rickard slowly picked up the gown and crossed the room to put it in Oberyns hands. Carefully Oberyn looked over the gown, it was golden and was embroidered across the back with a dragon flying in front of a blazing Sun. For several minutes Oberyn didn't speak, he kept turning it over in his hands and examining every part of it. Ashara and her sons waited patiently, the silence was tense and powerful as none knew which way Oberyn would go.
After a long period of silence Oberyn looked to Rickard his eyes wet with tears, "How do I know this is Rhaenys gown? It could be any babes?"
"It bears the Martell sigil with a dragon…" stammered Rickard.
"And it was made by the hand of a Westerosi!" Oberyn interjected heatedly, "this proves nothing"
Rickard slumped his shoulders slightly, "This was found with the gown…" as he spoke he held the chain out in front of him.
Oberyn gasped as the shadow of the dragon flying in front of the blazing Sun crossed his face. He reached out his tanned hand to grasp the swinging necklace stilling it in his hand. Rickard let go of the chain and it clattered across the back of Oberyns hand, he opened his hand and nestled within lay the delicately made silver dragon and the blazing Sun. The same design as on the gown but clearly forged by different hands and different means. Despite himself Oberyns mouth was open in surprise, he held the necklace up in front of his face and let it swing side to side as his gaze was fixed on it.
"This is Dornish made," he said simply, "and was gifted to Rhaenys at birth, by me. Where did you get this?" he questioned them sharply, Rickard glanced at his mother and she nodded.
"Driftmark" replied Rickard to which Oberyn raised an eyebrow.
"Is that so? That is interesting, when was Rhaenys on Driftmark?"
Ashara produced a letter and passed it across to Oberyn, "Elia secretly sent the children away and she sent them to Driftmark. Lyanna left through our port and met them there, one can presume they departed once Rhaegar got there-"
"Rhaegar is dead-" said Oberyn hotly, "and with it all chance of me knowing why he left her behind with his crazed father"
Ashara pursed her lips together, "Read the note Oberyn"
Heat had risen in his cheeks and his anger caused him to breathe faster, he looked ready to strike at someone. Impatiently he unrolled the note and began to read. It wasn't a long note but he stared at the words for a long time, closed it and then reopened it and read it again.
"She could've been forced to write this," he said with a voice thick with emotion, "Rhaegar and his father forced her hand" his voice sounded sure but underneath Ashara knew different.
"Oberyn, Rhaegar and Elia loved one another. I spent plenty of time in their company when I was your sisters lady in waiting. When I read the note I hear her voice as she wrote it, this is not coerced"
"Where did you get this?" he replied softly holding the scroll up in two fingers.
Ashara pursed her lips together, "It was in Lyanna's possession. A servant fled Kings Landing just before the castle was sacked and somehow made her way to where Lyanna was"
"Is that so? And where was Lyanna hiding while my sister was being murdered like a stray dog?"
"In Dorne" she replied simply, knowing what his reaction would be.
"Dorne?!" raged Oberyn in reply, "How? Where" his voice was demanding and angered.
"Elia sent them both here, she knew what she was doing Oberyn"
Oberyn shook his head unable to accept his sister knew of her imminent death and embraced it.
"Why? Why would she give up? We would've helped her…." His voice trailed off.
"Mother, I can help…." spoke Edric softly, "He can have closure if you'll let me…."
Oberyn lifted his red, tear filled eyes with no hint of the rage leaving him, but said nothing.
Ashara simply looked troubled, and uncertain. Oberyn flicked his gaze to Ashara, and back to Edric.
"Ashara, what is he saying?"
Ashara looked across to Oberyn and simply said, "Do you accept our oath to remain as we always have? As always being loyal to House Martell and nothing more?"
Oberyn sat back and considered her for a moment before conceding.
"I accept your pledge Ashara"
She nodded once and turned her gaze to Edric, "Hold the necklace first, then the scroll"
Respectfully Edric approached Oberyn and held out his hand patiently, "The necklace please"
It was still draped across Oberyns hand and he looked down at it, apprehensively he unwound it from his hand and passed it swinging to Edric.
Bowing and stepping back several paces Edric stood holding the necklace, Oberyn sat forward and looked with interest what he was to do. He glanced at Ashara and she hesitatingly spoke, "Edric will give you answers, and closure. I hope this will be seen favourably Oberyn for they truly risked themselves to retrieve these"
Without a word Oberyn looked back to Edric only he wasn't standing there any longer, a girl with flecked black and silver hair and the face of his sister stood before him.
"Uncle, please take this," she held out the necklace, "and be at peace for what you think is not true"
Oberyn had no words, he had often wondered what his niece would look like as she grew and if she'd take after her mother who was a true Dornish beauty.
"What is this?" he said angrily and looked to Ashara.
"Edric can shape change into people," explained Ashara, "his form is strongest in those who are still living. But if he possesses something strong with the energy of a deceased person he can hold their form for a short time only. Rhaenys is still living if he can stand in her form for this long. Eric, can you find her?"
Edric in Rhaenys form closed his eyes momentarily, before opening them and staring at Oberyn.
"There is an island, far from here. Inhabited already, they are there"
"Is she hurt? Enslaved? Tell me something else!" urged Oberyn desperately.
"Not hurt, not a slave, I can see…..butterflies but I get a sense of danger. I can hear the words beware the butterflies, that is all"
Rhaenys crossed the room and handed the necklace back to Oberyn, he received it gratefully. As Rhaenys turned, Edric returned to his form causing Oberyn to exclaim a little in surprise.
"Wait," said Oberyn suddenly and held out the scroll, "Tell me what you see, or feel. I have to know"
Edric looked over his shoulder and glanced at Ashara, she nodded once so he returned to Oberyn and gently took the scroll.
"I don't know how long I can hold her form for," he warned, "I might only get a few memories"
Oberyn shrugged, "Something is better than nothing"
Edric nodded and focused, a short time later Elia stood in front of her brother, but this time the form was different. Her image flickered between Elia and Edric before stabilising as Elia but she still seemed transparent and ghostly.
"Tell me what you see" spoke Oberyn as he leaned forward eagerly.
Elia pursed her lips together, "Rhaegar begging me to change my mind, but I tell him they'll never let me leave, I must stay. I send away the children and have decoys in their place, but at the last minute I send them away too. Guilt, I feel guilt about them taking a fateful place. I'm writing a letter and thinking about Sunspear, the servant begs me to go with her but the sounds of fighting are close, I send her away. And then they come-" he falters as Elias form flickers away, he falls to his knees and tears fall from his eyes. Edric buries his head in his hands and sobs for a moment.
"What did you see?" says Oberyn sharply, "Tell me"
"I'm being swarmed by men, but I kill them with my powers"
"Powers?" replies Oberyn in confusion turning his head as if this will help him hear better.
Edric nodded, "Yes Elia had powers of some sort, she used fire to burn many people alive. She is responsible for many deaths during her attack, im sure you'll be happy to know"
Oberyn smiled slightly, "Yes that is a comfort of sorts"
Oberyn stroked his face deep in thought, several moments pass before he speaks again "Thank you Ashara you've given me exactly what I asked for"
"I hope this will prove to you we have no designs on treachery" she replied carefully.
"Well," started Oberyn, "I knew that already but that was before I knew your other son can take the form of others. Now your family is more dangerous to me than ever, compulsion and shape changing if used the way I'd use them would mean the end of my family. I can't ignore that"
Colour rose in Ashara's face at his words and she stood angrily, "We did everything you asked" she hissed, "when will this end?"
Oberyn smiled dangerously again, "It ends when I say it ends," he walked over to the window and spread open the heavy purple velvet curtain revealing several large Dornish war ships carrying the Martell sigil in the Bay.
"When I get the answers I seek you will be free, until then," he pointed to the ships, "my men and my guards will remain here and nobody will leave"
Ashara's face clouded in fury, "You will imprison me in my own home?"
Oberyn shrugged, "I considered imprisoning you in the dungeons as an alternative, but this way is much better for future relations in my opinion"
"You could be gone for months or years Oberyn! And we are prisoners until such time as you return?"
Oberyn turned from the window and stood directly in front of Ashara looking down into her furious but beautiful face.
"Those truly loyal to my family will have no trouble accepting my decision. Only the guilty would retaliate because their plans are ruined. Is that the case Ashara?" he spoke smoothly and dangerously, at one point he grasped a piece of Ashara's shining hair and twirls it between his fingers.
Ashara lifted her chin defiantly, "Your men will be honoured guests until you return"
BTWBTWBTWBTWBTWBTWBTWBTWBTWBTW
The raven steadily flew across the desolate landscape riding the currents of air as it steadily continued its journey North. It stopped to rest for as long as it needed before continuing its journey, slowly the destination rose above the horizon and it cawed loudly in satisfaction. It felt the presence of its kind and trained its keen eyesight on the rookery, circling the tower and cawing loudly to its kind before soaring through a window and perching on a stand. It felt the presence of a kindly man, but instinctively it cowered away from him, the scent and size of man especially an unfamiliar one overwhelmed the ravens senses. Cooing gently and moving slowly the man grasped the scroll and held out his arm patiently. The raven cawed loudly again and hopped onto the man's arm, he slowly moved across to the nests and found an empty space. The raven gratefully jumped into its welcoming darkness and exhaustion swept over the bird like the dark of night. The man dropped several pellets which the bird gratefully consumed before folding its head under its wing and slipping into slumber.
Ned held the scroll in his hand and groaned a little, this complicated matters significantly. Benjen sat across from Ned drinking ale and smirked a little.
"That bad is it brother?"
Ned groaned again and flicked the scroll across the ground to rest at Benjens feet, he bent and picked it up. Unrolled it and read the contents, he sat back in his chair with a look of shock.
"Yes brother, there's some things you don't know"
"I gathered that," replied Benjen.
"After Lyanna," started Ned quietly barely above a whisper, "I went to Starfall, I know Lyanna was there. I was trying to follow her. But once I got there-"
"You love her don't you Ned?" questioned Benjen directly, "I'm your brother, I can tell"
Ned raised his face to look at his brother directly, "With every part of me, that woman has never left my heart"
"What of Catelyn?"
Ned grimaced, "I love her too of course but it's not-"
"Not the same love" murmured Benjen
Ned nodded in agreement, "No, not the same"
The brothers sat together lost in their memories for a time before Benjen stirred and looked into the flames.
"So how many more Starks are there now?"
Ned chuckled and rubbed his head in his hands again, "Including your daughter Benjen, three more"
Benjen raised his eyebrows, "You were busy at Starfall then"
Ned laughed once, "No not that busy. Only one is mine, the other one is Brandon's"
Benjen gulped and looked on in disbelief, "Brandon's?"
Ned nodded, "I saw the boy when I was at Starfall, he was still a babe"
Benjen was lost for words, but suddenly his mind sharpened, "The scroll says they're Starks but shouldn't they be Sand?"
Ned shook his head as he gazed into the fire, "I legitimised them both. It was the right thing to do"
"Brother that means this Rickard can claim this castle and the title of Warden, is that what you want?"
Ned smiled and shook his head, "No he can't"
"The only way would be if there was another-" Benjen faltered before saying with shock, "No"
Ned nodded, "Yes, you've figured it out. Robb is Brandon's son"
"And Brandon's heir"
Ned raised his glass and drank deeply, "That's correct"