On the outskirts of Winterfell, the stronghold of House Stark, the Great House of the North, a group of Stark riders led by Captain Cayn Reed of House Reed were riding and chasing after someone, who is revealed to be William Cerwyn. William doesn't get very far before he's surrounded by riders, two of whom point spears at him.
"You're a long way from Castle Black, ranger," Cayn said.
"Please, I came to deliver a warning to the Lord of Winterfell," William warned.
In Winterfell's main courtyard, Bran Stark had been practicing archery with his brother Robb Stark and as his half-brother Jon Snow. Bran fires an arrow, but it misses the target, instead hitting a barrel. Bran stomps his foot in frustration, but Jon goes over to put his arm around Bran's shoulders.
"Go on," Jon encouraged him. "Father's watching. And your mother."
They both glance up at an upper walkway, where their father, Lord Eddard Stark, along with his wife, Lady Catelyn Stark, and nephew Edward Stark were watching. Eddard gives Bran an encouraging nod when they make eye contact, in which Bran nods back. Bran wasn't willing to give up and so he prepares to fire another arrow. He fires another arrow, but misses the target completely.
"Don't think too much, Bran," Jon instructed him.
Bran raises his bow again and takes aim at the target. He thinks he might miss again, but Jon and Robb had always been there to encourage him not to give up.
"Relax your bow arm," Robb calmly instructed him also.
Bran pulls the arrow back and prepares to fire, but that was when an arrow is shown hitting the direct center of the target. Jon and Robb noticed that Bran wasn't the one who fired it. They look back, only to see that it was their sister Arya holding a bow, showing a bemused look on her face. Bran was annoyed that she was the one who fired the arrow.
"Come here!" Bran angrily shouted.
"Catch me if you can!" Arya laughed.
Elsewhere across the courtyard of Winterfell, Jeren Hill, who was known to be the bastard son of Tyrion Lannister and one best, but strongest knights of the Seven Kingdoms, had been teaching one of his students Domeric Snow the Water Dance. Jeren was about seventeen years old and had started his training at the age of seven. For the last ten years, Jeren trained very hard to learn the Water Dance from his mentor Syrio Forel. Once his training was complete, Jeren held hope that his father would legitimize him, in which he would earn the surname Lannister. Jeren was patient enough to wait and would never ask his father of when he would be legitimized.
As for Domeric, he was well over ten years old, with black hair and gold eyes. He was born to Lord Roose Bolton and Lady Lady Bethany of House Ryswell, making him the younger brother of Ramsay Bolton. At the age of six, Domeric served four years as a page in Barrowton to his aunt, Lady Barbrey Dustin, and then squired for three years for Lord Horton Redfort. In the Vale of Arryn, Domeric enjoyed the company of Horton's sons and began to consider them brothers. After returning from the Vale to the Dreadfort, Domeric and his brother Ramsay would be legitimized by their father due to learning that they had an elder half-brother whom they never met and were both natural sons.
"No fair," Domeric groaned and complained as he got up.
"Training will be never be fair once you learn to master the Water Dance," Jeren explained during the training. "It takes time. When I was your age, I always complain like a lap dog."
Domeric took a moment to pick his sword up and began to ask his friend and mentor something. "Can I come with you?"
"Come with me where?" Jeren asked, confused.
"To King's Landing," Domeric answered excitedly. "I want to see the Iron Throne up close with my own eyes."
"Domeric, I already told a few times, I can't take you and when my father arrives very soon, I have to return home," Jeren explained the issue and walked up closer to him and laid his hand on his right shoulder. "I understand you're eager to see it and I know you will. Tell you what, when I come back at the end of spring, I'll talk to your father."
"He may say 'no'," Domeric stated.
"Will see," Jeren smiled and took a few steps back, and held his sword tightly in his right hand. "Now c'mon, let's finish up."
Just before Domeric and Jeren were about to continue training of the Water Dance, Jon Snow and Robb Stark came up to join the two and watch them practice. Robb seemed amazed on how Jeren had just dodged and swung around to avoid Domeric's sudden blows.
"What kind of training is that?" Jon asked, scoffing.
"You never heard of the Water Dance Jon?" Jeren asked.
"Is that something you made up?" Jon asked with a smile.
"Why don't you show me what you can do?" Jeren insisted for Jon to challenge him.
"You want one of us to challenge you?" Robb asked, started to laugh.
"Why not?" Jeren sighed and planted the point of his sword on the dirt. "Strike me."
"What say you?" Jon asked his brother.
"Allow me!" Theon shouted across the courtyard and walked over towards Jeren. "Gonna teach you and your student a little lesson, lad."
"Getting desperate Theon?" Jeren chuckled in delight.
Theon ignored his laugh and swung his sword to strike, only for Jeren to be quick enough to avoid his strike. This gave Jeren the chance to kick Theon from behind with his mudded boot. Jon and Robb were truly amazed how quick Jeren was just as Theon landed on the ground hard, but wasn't hurt. He groaned a bit, but immediately got up. He turns around and saw how Jeren smirked at him, but immediately began to attack him once again.
On top of the balcony, Ned Stark and his three year old grandson Edward Stark were standing on the balcony, watching a lot of people walk around, train with their swords, and talk as they always do. Ned is the head of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell, and Warden of the North. Eddard was born at Winterfell as the second son of Lord Rickard Stark and Lady Lyarra Stark. He had one older brother, Brandon, and two younger siblings, Lyanna and Benjen.
As Lord Stark continued to watch, his wife Catelyn gently picked up her grandson just as Lord Rodrik Cassel and Cayn Reed arrive, and gave the honorable Lord and Lady an honorable bow. Ser Rodrik was a stout man, broad, with large white whiskers. He does not like music, but was highly loyal to the Starks and very courageous. Cayn Reed, a member of House Reed, served as one of the guardsmen and men-at-arms to House Stark. He had a son named Calon Reed.
"Lord Stark," Ser Rodrik greeted him and Lady Stark with respect and began to bring them information. "Captain Reed here just rode in from the hills. He and his men captured a deserter from the Night's Watch."
"He's from House Cerwyn," Cayn informed as well.
Ned was very alarmed by this and felt troubled to hear about this. Knowing that House Cerwyn was one of the closest bannermen to the Starks for many centuries since its founding, Ned feared that if the deserter is executed by him, it would probably trigger a war between the Cerwyns and the Starks. However, he had to go through with the law for those from the Night's Watch that break their oath will be executed.
"Get the lads to saddle their horses," Ned commanded.
Catelyn believed it was wrong for a deserter to be executed and chose to go up against it. "Do you have to do this?"
"I'm sorry Cat, but that man swore an oath," Ned regretfully apologized to his wife.
"The law is law, my lady," Ser Rodrik told her of the laws, but truly respected how she felt.
"This law is abomination," Catelyn stated.
"Take Little Ed to his chambers," Ned ordered, and just before his wife turns to leave, he gave a deep sigh. "And tell Rickon and Bran they're coming too."
Catelyn was even more disappointed than ever and turns around to face him. "Ned, Bran is way to young to see such things. Can that wait?"
"He won't be a boy forever," Ned told her, but truly expressed his regret in telling his wife that. "Children grow up and they must learn the value of nobility, oaths, and honor."
"Then call off the execution and have the deserter return to the Night's Watch," Catelyn insisted. "Lord Commander Jeor Mormont can deal with this himself."
"I'm afraid that's not up to me to decide," Ned answered as he turns away to leave and gave Rodrik a gently pat on his shoulder. "Get the boys to saddle up."
"By your leave, my lord," Rodrik complied and gave Catelyn a look on his face as she held Edward in her arms. He nodded his head and whispered. "I'm sorry."
Catelyn didn't bother to respond to all this and immediately chose to leave with her grandson while Rodrik watched her silently leave. He could tell how deeply disgraced this was.
"I know what its like my lord," Cayn nodded, understanding.
"Perhaps she's right," Rodrik sighed with his eyes closed.
Theon continued to fight Jeren, but everytime he kept on dodging his strikes. Jeren continued to smile which started to anger Theon for all this humiliation. Bran was finished with his archery lessons and came over with Rickon to watch the fight.
"C'mon Theon," Bran laughed.
"You were right, Theon, this is a good lesson," Jeren continued to smile and turned to stare at Domeric. "Now this is whats it called to Water Dance."
Suddenly, Theon charged and lunged his sword, this time Jeren used his sword to defend himself. Theon was quick, but Jeren was much quicker, in which he was fast enough to avoid another strike. He managed to get behind Theon and used his sword to hit Theon from behind, causing him to fall down. Theon quickly got up and was ready to fight.
"Theon, that's enough," Robb ordered.
"He's right," Ned said, walking over to the group with his sword Ice in his hand. "Training is over. Come."
"Father?" Jon responded in confusion.
"Jon, when you join the Night's Watch, you must learn what it means to be a ranger," Ned tutored him. "Otherwise, there will be consequences."
Jon began to realize something. "You caught a deserter."
"And you know what will happen," Ned said.
Jeren wasn't too thrilled to hear this and decided to speak. "My lord, I don't mean to go up against this, but perhaps there should he better way to resolve this."
"What would have me do?" Ned asked.
"What I learned from my father that mercy is never a weakness, but sometimes it is fair to give one a chance to prove that either he or she could undo the mistakes," Jeren explained about what mercy was like. "You can either keep the deserter as your own personal servant forever or send him back to the current Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."
"Your father would be proud," Ned remarked on his words and deeply sighed. "Truly, your carry a great sense of compassion and honor. But I'm sorry." He turns to focus on his four sons. "Saddle up."
After departing Winterfell, Ned Stark sits on his motionless horse, for he had spent hald his life training for war and the other half waging it, and his face conveys both authority and a sadness that has haunted him ever since the rebellion to overthrow the Aerys II Targaryen, who was known so many people as the "Mad King". Accompanied by Robb, Jon, Theon, Ser Rodrik, Jeren, Domeric, Rickon, Bran, and a dozen member of the Household Guard, all on horseback. Over their heads flaps the Stark banner: a gray direwolf racing across an ice-white field.
South of the wall, the greenish grass was very still and the sun was shining, but the air was very cold enough to cloud the breath of four guardsmen as they escort William Cerwyn toward the stump of a massive oak tree. Weeks have passed since William had deserted the Night's Watch, but he seems to have aged years, for which his eyes were bloodshot and weary, his face a bit haggard, and his clothes were torn and filthy.
Bran, for instance, was sitting very still, watching the doomed man. He has never seen an execution before and was going to be the first one today to see it. However, the prospect of it terrified him, but he tries hard to imitate his father's solemn expression. Even Jon and Jeren could notice of how William was terrified, but it didn't seem as if he was afraid to be executed for desertion. There was something else that the deserter was afraid, but of what?
"White Walkers," William muttered. "I saw the White Walkers. White Walkers. The White Walkers, I saw them." He then turns to face the Lord of Winterfell and starts to cry for what he had done in deserting the Night's Watch. "I know I broke my oath. And I know I'm a deserter. I should have gone back to the Wall and warned them. But I saw what I saw. We thought they were gone, but we were wrong. I saw the White Walkers. People need to know. If you can get word to my family, tell them I'm no coward. Tell them..." He paused and sniffed, then continued. "Tell them I'm sorry. Please my lord, tell them of my mistake."
"And that I will," Ned nodded respectfully.
"Thank you, my lord," William continued to cry and positioned himself on the tree limb that serves as a block.
Ned is clearly not comfortable with what he has to do, but he had to do what was important to follow the law. His ward, Theon Greyjoy, hand over Ned's sword: Ice, a beautiful weapon which was centuries old. Despite living in the North, Theon was the only one in the group to be wearing the symbol of a kraken instead of a direwolf, meaning that he was from another noble house. Ned peels off his gloves and hands them to Jory Cassel of House Cassel, who was recognized as a great bull-necked warrior.
Taking a moment since he feels a sign of shame of what he was going to do, Ned felt clearly troubled since he studied the condemned man's face, judging his honesty. He walks to the stump and starts to bow his head over the sword. There is a great weariness in Ned's eyes once both his hands tighten around the hilt of his great sword. Rickon kept his eyes focused on the execution, but was a bit frightened of what he was going to see. Bran tries not to look, but Jon knew what he was doing.
"Keep the pony hand and don't look away," Jon quietly encouraged his little brother. "Father will know if you and Rickon do."
"This is not right, Jon," Jeren sighed in ignorance of why Rickon and Bran had to be here.
"Are you his father?" Jon calmly asked.
"Say that to me again Jon and see what happens," Jeren warned him with a slight glare.
"Then if you don't want to be there with Domeric, you can take him now, but Bran and Rickon stay with us until the execution is done," Jon glared back at him.
Jeren couldn't stand for this and was ready to take Domeric away just as Ned continued to bow his head over Ice. He briefly turns his face towards Bran, who was keeping his pony well in hand and wasn't looking away.
"In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, first of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm," Ned spoke in tones to William. "I, Eddard of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, sentence you to die."
Before Ned was ready to deliver the killing blow while William closed his eyes, a cavalry of 300 soldiers arrived at the scene. These soldiers were from House Cerwyn and the person under the command of the cavalry was Lord Medger Cerwyn. Ned, Robb, and Jon didn't seem to pleased to see him arrive and began to wonder how they learned of this. Making a stop, Medger and more than 45 of his men dismount while the rest stay on their horses.
"Lord Stark," Medger said, giving the Lord of Winterfell with a greeting.
"Lord Cerwyn," Ned greeted back. "You come at a very unpleasant time."
"I've come to collect my nephew," Medger told him.
"Your nephew swore an oath to the Night's Watch," Ned began to explain. "He broke..."
"And that was not his intent," Medger interrupted. "It was my doing for sending him to poach in those woods. I came all this way from Castle Cerwyn to bring him back... unharmed."
"Lord Cerwyn," Ser Rodrik spoke on Lord Stark's behalf. "Your nephew has to answer for what he did. He deserted the Night's Watch and you know the law."
"That kind of law means nothing to me," Medger responded, refusing to accept it. "Those laws are too old for the likes of me and my family. Too old in my liking. I am to collect my nephew at once or House Cerwyn will no longer be loyal to you if you kill him. You will start a war between my family and yours, and we will not forget."
"Please, my lord, there is no need to start a war," Ned pleaded. "There is no honor in this."
"Then tell me now, Lord Stark, where is your honor?" Medger asked, giving him a glare. "If you do this, I will not forget... and I will not forgive."
Lord Stark was hesitant since House Cerwyn has been loyal to House Stark for centuries since its founding in the northern kingdom. He closed his eyes and slowly opens them.
"You can have him," Ned answered.
"By your honor, my lord," Medger bowed his head.
"Thank you, uncle," William continued to gasp and cry at the same time as he mounted on a horse that was given to him.
"C'mon boy, let's go home," Medger said.
Immediately, Lord Medger and his troops saddle up and prepare to leave, leaving the Starks alone. Robb was disappointed at first, but he knew what was necessary since his family didn't want to start a war against the Cerwyns. He turns and puts his arm around Bran. Jeren and Domeric didn't say a word at all as they saddled up. Just as Jon helps Rickon up to his horse, Ned hands Ice to a guard and then mounts on his war horse. He turns his horse around and slowly gallops towards where his young son Bran was, who had just readied his pony and mounts on top.
"You understand why I did it?" Ned asked.
Bran turn's his saddle, feeling a bit startled when he saw his father, who was already mounted on his great warhouse, for which the Lord Stark looms above his son like a giant.
"Jon said he was deserter," Bran answered when he gave his father a nod. "He was in the Night's Watch and he ran away, but then you let him go. You let him live. Why?"
Even when speaking with his son, Ned constantly surveys his surroundings, aware of his men's positions, the possible sites for an ambush, and an angle of the sun.
"If I killed him, it would've started a war between us and the Cerwyns," Ned answered. "I couldn't risk that."
Bran thinks about this for a few seconds, confused until he asks his father a question. "Does King Robert have a headsman?"
"He does," Ned answered. "As did the Targaryen kings before him." Then, he reaches out to grab the pommel on Bran's saddle. He forces the horse and pony to walk very close. "Our way is the old way. The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword."
Bran stares at his father's massive sword that was sheathed in the hip and then asks another question. "Is it true he saw the White Walkers?"
Ned stares at his son for a long beat. "You heard that?" He takes a long pause and goes on to explain to his son. "The White Walkers have been gone for eight thousands years."
"So he was lying?" Bran asked if that was case.
Ned was uneasy when he decided to answer his question. "He believed it. A madman sees what he sees." Then, he speaks towards Jeren and Domeric, speaking to them. "I guess you were lucky today."
"If they hadn't come, then he wouldn't be lucky and then House Cerwyn would marshal their troops and march directly to attack Winterfell," Jeren sighed. "But I will tell you this my lord, I don't think that man was acting mad in his mind. I could tell by the look of his eyes of how terrified he was. But I can be wrong, he could've been. Maybe he was making this up or telling the truth."
"You may have a good and most honorable point," Ned nodded, feeling proud of Jeren's words. "Your father would be really proud of you."
"Accept, I don't have the Lannister name," Jeren reminded him.
"Jeren, one day, you will earn that surname, and people all around Westeros will recognize you as a Lannister," Ned said. "Once you have it, you will feel proud of yourself."
"And what about Jon, have you thought of giving him the Stark name?" Jeren asked.
"I've been trying that every year, but Catelyn always shuts me out of it," Ned sighed.
"Jon is family to you, he deserves it," Jeren suggested.
"That is why he's not ready," Ned said. "But, one day, he will be... once he learns the truth of his mother."
Ever since the near execution of William Cerwyn of House Cerwyn, Bran Stark felt a sign of fear in his own eyes. He felt that the former deserter was telling the truth about the White Walkers and it didn't seem like he was mad at all. Despite proud to be treated like a man, he began to imagine that if his father executed the deserter, he would not look or even walk away at all.
Feeling relieved by this, Bran feared that he might be forced to see future executions if others comitted treason across the Seven Kingdoms, especially those who lived in the North for many centuries since its founding. rides with his brothers, his hard-working pony trying to keep up with the bigger horses. Along with Jeren, Domeric, Jon, Robb, and Rickon, who were racing down the hill, Bran had been trying to keep up with them, but since they had bigger horses, he felt a bit jealous that he had to ride on a small one.
"I thought he was brave," Jon said.
"Brave?" Theon scoffed. "He was dead of fear. You could see it in his eyes."
"Then tell me, Theon, what would be in your eyes with your head on the stump?" Jeren asked as a sign of a warning of it would be like if Ned would ever behead him.
"He's right, father let him go for the sake of risking war between the Starks and the Cerwyns," Robb agreed to his brother's words. "Try and remember that."
Theon considers the point for a moment and shrugs, already losing interest in the subject. Then, he began to suggest something in excitement. "Race you to the bridge?"
Jon rolls his eyes as if he's beyond then, without warning, he spurs his head start. Robb sighs and follows. Jeren gives Domeric a nod and a smile, and immediately, the two laugh as they started to gallop very quick to catch up with Jon. Robb sighs and follows them next. As they gallop off down the trail, both Robb and Jeren were laughing and hooting while Jon was silent. He turns around and saw that Bran's pony can't compete in the race. Sharing a lot of sympathy for his younger brother like he had before ever since he was born, Jon decided to fall out of the race and stay with Bran to keep him company.
Jeren won the race, but that was when he began to notice something from up ahead. He turns around and waves urgently as he calls Ned. "Lord Stark, over here!"
Just as Ned's party reaches the riverbank, Jeren dismounted beside Jon and Robb while Bran and Rickon stay behind their father Ned with the rest of their party. Jory and Theon dismount from their horses and approach Jeren, Robb, and Jon. When Jory sees what lies on the ground beside Robb, Theon spat and pulls his horse away just Ser Jory does the same.
"Get away from it!" Jory yelled.
"She can't hurt you," Robb said. "She's dead."
Burning with curiosity, Bran spurs his pony to keep up with his father as they appraoch the others, who are all dismounted from their horses.
"What is it?" Jeren asked.
Bran finally gets close enough to see and out of shock and surprise, he saw that it was a wolf, but not just a wolf, a female dire wolf. The dead dire wolf was very huge, even bigger than Bran's pony.
"I know what it is, its a freak," Theon joked.
"Its a wolf, Theon," Jeren sighed in annoyance.
"No, its a dire wolf," Jon corrected.
Ned kneels beside the dead female dire wolf, Groping under the beast's head, he gives a yank and comes up with a foot of shattered antlet, slick with half-dried blood.
"I've heard of dire wolves before," Jeren said and explained of what he knows. "My father told me there haven't been any that were south of the Wall for nearly two hundred years. They may be predators in nature, but they are very smart. Its a pity she got separated from her pack."
"No... she didn't," Jon answered. "There are five little pups."
When Bran sees what everyone is staring at, his eyes widen in surprise. He moves in to get a closer look and saw that his brother Robb was holding a dire wolf pup, which was described to be a tiny ball of gray-black fur, eyes still closed, nuzzling blindly against Robb's chest, and whimpering in fear.
"Tough old bear, wasn't she?" Jory remarked. "Birthing a litter with an antlet in her throat."
Robb turns to his brother Bran and says, "Go on. You can touch him."
Bran gives the pup a quick, nervous stroke, and turns to Jon.
"Here you go," Jon insisted.
Jon thrusts another pup into Bran's arms. Overjoyed, Bran plops down in the snow and rubs the wolf pup's soft fur against the cheek. Ned picks up two more helpless pips, one in each hand as Jon picks up the fifth. Hullen, who served House Stark as one of the best horse masters in the North, noticed the direwolves.
"Direwolves loose in the realm," Hullen frowned.
"Not for long," Theon said as he draws his sword and reaches for Bran's pup. "Give it here."
"No, its mine!" Bran cried.
"Put the sword away," Robb speaks to Theon in a commanding tone. "We're keeping them."
"I take orders from your father, not you," Theon bristled at Robb's command.
"It'll be a mercy to kill them," Hullen said.
"No!" Bran cried out, looking to Ned for support, but finds none.
"Better a quick death," Ned said. "They won't last without their mother."
"Lord Stark... there are five pups," Jeren counted. "Three male, two female. You have five trueborn children. Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House."
Everyone looks to the Stark banners, with their direwolf crest-of-arms. We see their opinions about the pups change, as they come to understand the import of this omen.
"Father, Jeren speaks wisely," Jon agreed. "Your children were meant to keep them."
"And you?" Ned asked.
"I am not a Stark," Jon said.
Ned weighs the situation for a moment and silence until he speaks. "You all need to feed them yourselves and them yourselves. They may die anyway, despite all you do."
"They won't," Robb promised. "We won't let them."
With the decision made, they start to remount their horses. As for Bran, he tugs gratefully on Jon's sleeve, who smiles at him, but beneath his smile, there is a trace of sadness. Just as Jon was about to climb onto his horse, he makes sudden stop when he hears a distant whimpering. Leaving his horse behind, he ranges into a snow drift and scans the ground until he finds the source. There was a sixth wolf pup. Unlike the others, this one had white fur and its eyes were red and open, and it is completely silent.
"What is it?" Robb asked, checking what his brother had found.
"An albino," Theon scoffs in laughter. "Its the runt of the litter. It'll die even faster than the others."
Jon ignores Theon as he continues to stare into the pup's eyes and the pup stares back.
"This one belongs to me," Jon murmured.