It was dark, why was it so dark? Surely he had led a good life, yes he had killed but he had not enjoyed it. He had been a good man! A good husband! A good father! He didn't deserve to be here, he didn't deserve to be in…

"Ned?"

The sound of his wife's voice startled him so much he rolled out of bed towards the floor. As he feet touched the cool stone he realised he could not be dead. Which meant that he still had the injury to his leg but his leg didn't hurt. Why didn't it hurt? What was going on? Had it all just been a nightmare?

Hearing a noise he looked back at the bed, at the form that was starting to sit up in it. "Ned what is wrong?"

He felt his breath catch in his lungs. "Cat?"

His wife, the one that should be somewhere in the Riverlands was now kneeling up in the bed, not any bed but their bed. He looked around bewildered, he was back home, back in Winterfell. But how?

"Ned your starting to scare me."

He put his arms on her shoulders, then slowly drew them up over her neck to cup her face. In the back of his mind there was something trying to claw out. A voice trying to tell him something, to warn him of something, but all he cared about in that almost non-existent light was that he was holding the woman he loved in his hands.

"Ned what are…" He silenced her with a kiss, trying to express all his feelings in the small amount of contact. Slowly he felt her start to relax, then to respond with her arms moving to his back. The small squeal she made when he brought his hands further down and lifted her up and then down further onto their bed made his blood boil.

He looked down at her running his right hand down her cheek "No more talking." Nothing else mattered as he looked to claim her once again.

Several hours later

He woke with the welcoming feeling of light in his eyes. For some reason he felt absolutely exhausted. Then he turned to his side and he remembered why. His wife was still sound a sleep, her hair a mess of red over the pillows. A grin spread across his face, when you had a loving marriage as long as theirs one tended to pick up what pleased their partner in bed. He had made sure to put all that knowledge to use last night.

Slowly the smile drained from his face as he remembered what had happened. What her actions had cost. Sitting up he ran his hands over his face and took a breath. Her actions may have been rash but his own, gods his own… He got up, wincing a bit due to the slight pain in his lower back. Maybe he had been a bit too enthusiastic last night, he was not a young man anymore.

Slowly he became aware of a knock at the door, loud and urgent. Throwing on some clothes he headed to the door, pulling it open he found Poole in front of him, looking the same as the last time he saw him before he marched into the Red Keep. "My Lord I'm sorry if I woke you but it is Lord Bran, he is very ill."

If he wanted any further evidence that this was not the afterlife then it was standing right there in front of him. After all why would Poole be... wait what had he said? "I'm sorry can you repeat that Bran is …"

"He is ill my Lord, Maester Ludwin is with him, Lord Robb sent me." His faithful servant looked at him queerly. "My Lord are you feeling okay? You look a bit pale. What about Lady Catelyn?"

He felt his face go a bit red despite the situation. "We are fine Vayon, thank you. I'll wake up Cat and we'll be there shortly."

Not waiting for the door to shut he hurried back over to the bed. Gently he gave his wife a shake "Cat, Cat my love."

She half opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Ned what is it?"

Before he could answer he heard the door fly open, turning around he saw Arya come to a stop behind him. She had been running so fast she almost toppled over as her upper body tried to keep moving. "You have to come quick, its Bran!"

Without thinking he rushed across and grabbed her in his arms, lifting her up in a hug. His little wild wolf, ohh thank the gods she was okay. He felt her tense up and try to push away. "Uhh Father you smell! Put me down." Coming too his senses he did just that, embarrassed that he had forgotten the state he was in. Arya looked up at him, then around him to Cat, then back up to him again, her eyes going wide. "Are you both sick too?"

He heard Cat sit up in the bed. "Sick? Who is sick honey? Did someone say Bran?"

His youngest daughter nodded her head, her eyes starting to water. "They won't let me in to see him."

Right, trying to work out whatever happened before, whatever happened to bring him back here, could wait as his family needed him. "I need you to leave now little one so your mother and I can get dressed. We'll be there shortly okay."

Waiting till she had scampered back out of the room he turned back to his wife who was frantically getting out of bed, trying to tidy up her hair as she did so. Looking down he realised that both his hands were clinched in a fist, he made himself relax. He may not know what was going on but he would be dammed if his son would be the one to pay the price if that is what was happening.

"Don't just stand there Ned!"

"I coming my love, I'm coming."