*Please read notes at the bottom.

298 AC

Catelyn Stark

When she left Winterfell the fortnight ago, she did it with great sadness. Never in her youth could she have imagined that. Brandon Stark was so handsome, and boisterous too. The news of his murder left her saddened and morose. The news of the transfer of her betrothal agreement to Brandon's younger brother did not help lift her spirits. Though she was not foolish enough to trick herself into believing he was unworthy, as what are spares for any way, she had heard of the Quiet Wolf. Oh yes, I had heard. In those days, before the smiles died and the realm fell into chaos, the Quiet Wolf was a unique, but entirely uninteresting piece of news.

Quiet, as no doubt his moniker suggested, subservient, more of a follower than a leader. Though she didn't doubt his strength in arms, before they had met, she had not yet seen whether or not his spine was as strong as his arm. When Eddard Stark rode through the gates of Riverrun, alongside of Jon Arryn and much of their close lords, her suspicions were laid to rest…lightly.

He was unassuming, that much was true. Eddard Stark clothed himself not in fine, colorful silks, adorned with gems and metals. He wore a simple doublet, black, unadorned. He wore a castle-forged gorget 'round his neck and upper torso with the emblem of a wolf prancing along. Over, he bore an overcoat of wolf fur. At his right hip was a small dagger and his left hip, an arming sword. Upon his back was strapped the biggest sword she had ever seen in her life. To this day, that sword makes me feel uneasy.

Their wedding night and later coupling had been awkward for the both of them. Eddard Stark rode out of Riverrun's gate at the break of dawn the next morn'. But then…then she birthed their son. Robb had been the first thing the young couple could share their love and interest in. They had grown into friends after Robb. Love came later…first with Edwyle, then Sansa, then the rest. She realized then that she had not been saddened for leaving Winterfell but leaving all the memories that helped make it home. Soon. Soon I shall be back within those great halls.

But that had been many, many days ago. She left the party of Robert Baratheon just north of Darry to turn eastward, towards the Mountains of the Vale. There she found herself 'fore the great gates of the east. The Bloody Gate was a misnomer she realized. The fortification itself was not particularly awe-inspiring, but on the western side of the gate, the ground was marred and scarred, she supposed that thousands of years of history could be lost from books perhaps, but not the earth. The tears and scars in the earth from projectiles and relic pieces of broken armor and blades adorned the field.

"Halt! In the name of Lord Jon Arryn, the Defender of the Vale, who would pass the Bloody Gate?!" A voice called down from the ramparts. Though she had half-a-dozen Winterfell honor guards with her, she herself responded.

"I am Lady Catelyn Stark, I have been requested by Lord Jon Arryn to travel to the Eyrie, to serve as his regent until he may yet return!"

"Cat?!" That wasn't the response she had expected. But very quickly, the gate opened, and a guard appeared, waving their party through. Her and her few guards trotted through and on the other side stood a man in black. He had very slightly wavy hair down just above his shoulders. And upon his chest, emblazed was a black trout.

"Uncle!"

Unhorsing herself, she swung down and landed in an inelegant manner. Before she could brush the creases out of her cloak, she was wrapped up in a tight embrace. "Cat! It is good to see you! It has been too long."

She was finally able to see her uncle, the Blackfish, in his entirety. Gone was his grin. He never did smile much. But there was still mirth in his eyes. "Hello uncle. It is wonderful to see you." Before I forget!

She reached into her small poach 'neath her cloak and pulled out a scroll, the very same that Jon Arryn had sent to her. "Here, here is the letter-"

"Oh piss on that, I believe you." His resistance at reading the scroll warmed her heart. Her father and uncle never got along. And even though he may not wish to marry someone else, he still took their House's words to heart. By now, her guards were feeding their horses.

"Cat, I shall send additional men for you."

"Oh that won't be necessary." She assumed it was his noble character.

But she felt his grip on her arm tighten. "Nay! Listen to me Cat. The North is wild, aye, but so too is the Vale. I shan't have my only niece travel the High Road, crawling with the mountain clans with naught but enough guards to take a dozen eggs to break their fast. I shall organize a party of fifty riders for you." He finally dropped the serious tone and took a lighter one. "After all, you're to be our Regent after all. Wouldn't have you do riding about with only a handful of guards."

"Many thanks uncle. Do you know if Lord Royce has reached the Eyrie yet? We are to be co-regents."

"I received a raven from Lord Arryn about his preparations. Assuming Lord Royce left Runestone the day after I received the raven, he should have been there by now. However, I haven't received a raven from him yet. Unneeded perhaps but a show of etiquette. One that Yohn Royce would certainly recognize. No, I believe he has not reached the Eyrie yet, but he was never the slowest man either. I'd suspect that he will arrive sooner than you are though."

"Thank you uncle. Could my party rest here for the night? Get a fresh start on the 'morrow?"

"Of course! It was remiss of me not to offer sooner." He turned to a guard and ordered him to relieve the Starks' guards horses and find them a meal and quarters. "And you young later shall dine with me tonight."

Robb Stark

He was sitting with his father and brother, reviewing lordly lessons and last pieces of advice when the door to his father's solar was banged on roughly.

"Lord Stark!"

"Enter."

As soon as the words left his father's mouth, a guard entered the chambers. But instead of seeking his father, the guard's eyes met his. "Lord Robb, Lady Dacey has gone into her labor pains!"

Standing up so fast he got dizzy, he approached the guard. "Where is she!"

"Fear not mi' lord, she was brought to the maesters chambers where he is looking over her now."

Without seeking permission from his father, Robb ran out of the room, Grey Wind bounding after him. Running through the corridors of the castle, he blew past servants, guardsmen, and others. Running down a side hallway, he was going so fast he actually slammed into the wall at the end; too fast to slow down going around the corner. Picking himself up, he once again sprinted to the maester's chambers. Even if he had been unfamiliar with the castle, the yelling was a sure-fire way to find it.

Whipping into the room, he came across his wife laying on a bed. Her forehead was being patted by a damp cloth by a midwife as Maester Luwin was rushing around the room, organizing potions and tools and any other potentially useful items.

"Lord Robb-"

"How is she Luwin?"

Luwin's face changed to one of mild surprise. "Very unlike your mother Robb. While your mother's labor lasted for near a day, Lady Dacey's contractions have picked up at a very intense pace. Unusual for first-time mothers to go this quickly once the babe is on the way."

By now, both Edwyle and his father had reached the chambers. Luwin turned his attention to his father. "My lord, I'll require additional midwives and a wetnurse to be prepared." While Eddard Stark may have been the Lord of Winterfell, when a babe was being born, Maester Luwin was giving the orders.

"I'll see it done." His father left immediately, going to track down whatever need personnel was required.

Luwin turned to him. "Robb, I know this is a very excitable time right now, but I shall require you to remain outside. I will not compromise the health of either the babe or the mother because I am distracted." He said nothing more but motioned for the open door.

He was hesitant to leave but after looking at Dacey, she just gave a small nod and a smaller smile. "Very well Maester. Help my wife."

"I have not allowed your Lady mother to lose a child, I shan't start now."

"Come one Robb, let us pray in the 'wood." The ever more religious Edwyle suggested.

Running his hands across this legs in an effort to dry off the sweat, he nodded quickly.

"Aye…good idea, let's go."

Luwin practically shooed the two brothers out of the chambers. As soon as they stepped out of the boundary, the door was closed on them. As he and Edwyle began walking away, he noticed that Grey Wind remained outside the door, curling up just to the right of it.

He hoped that his wife would be safe, and he'd have a child in her arms the next time he saw her.

Catelyn Stark

Her uncle had provided a simple, yet nourishing meal for their supper. Unlike other great keeps and castles, the Bloody Gate was exclusively a military structure. As such, it was designed in a way to hinder the enemy in any way shape or form. There was no great hall, and they enjoyed their evening meal in a modestly sized chamber.

She awoke and had dressed herself. After helping herself to some black pudding and a fried egg, she left the main keep and strode to the stables. She was one of the last people to ready herself. Her uncle had provided and additional escort of fifty men to ensure her arrival at the Eyrie. Mounting herself, she led the hardy horse over to the stairs of the main keep where her uncle was standing.

"Uncle, thank you so much for your kindness. Should you require anything, anything at all, let me know at once. I shall ensure your every need is met."

Bowing from the waist slightly, he smiled. "It was an honor of mine…my Lady Regent."

She blushed despite herself. "I'll have none of that, I am still your little Cat."

He chuckled at that. "Aye, that you are. Safe travels!"

Nodding, she turned her mount and took up her formation behind the lead pack leader. The knight in command was Ser Henric Belmore, the third son of Lord Benedar Belmore. Turning at her presence, he offered a kind smile.

"Ready, my lady?"

"Yes good ser."

He flashed a great smile and put his helm on.

"Let's ride! Ya!"

The horses took of a 'running. No wonder the Vale is known for their cavalry.

Her party had ridden at a moderate gallop for about half an hour. After such shows of chivalry, Ser Henric elected to set a quick walking pace for the horses. She was told that the Bloody Gate was only about seven leagues or so from the Eyrie. A straight trail would have been able to accomplish such a distance in only a handful of hours. However, the terrain of the Vale was…naturally difficult to say the least. After about the first quarter of the first league, the mountainous features hindered the fast riding of the party. Ser Henric estimated that they should reach the Eyrie by the time the sun began to set, if not sooner.

Thankfully, by now, her party had already passed more than halfway for travel. This marked two things for her. One, only a short more time to go. She was never the best rider, and she was growing uncomfortable already in the saddle. And two, according to her escorts, they had passed the point that the Mountain Clans would have already attacked them.

She elected to safely trot her horse a few paces faster to catch up with Ser Henric. Though she had nothing of note to say, she decided it was good manners to engage in conversation.

"Ser." She respectfully initiated.

Turning his head sideways to meet her eyes, he gently nodded his head to let her keep talking.

"I was unaware that any other houses had sent their sons to the Bloody Gate."

"Oh yes. While Ser Brynden is the Knight of the Gate, there are a number of other officers as well." He said kindly.

In all honesty, she was uninterested in the details but elected to learn more about it any way. She'd have to after all as Regent. "And what are they?"

"Well-" Ser Henric cut himself off as he redirected his mount from a sharp rock. "Pardon my lady. In addition to the Knight, there is a Keeper, a Gatekeeper, and four Under Keepers. The Keeper serves as the Knight's official right-hand man. Unfortunately, after the death of Ser Myles Hersy at the hands of the Mountain Clans, there has not been anyone. I've no doubt that Lord Royce will be appointing a new one soon. The Gatekeeper is more unique than the title lets on. While they are indeed responsible for carrying the keys to the gate, they serve as the other lieutenant to the Knight, usually stepping up to acting Keeper if one is not present. They are also the Master-at-Arms for the Gate in tandem. Currently, Ser Jai Tollett serves as the Gatekeeper of the Bloody Gate."

"Sounds like quite the system. What do the others do?"

"The last officers are the four Under Keepers. Each of the four rotate to serve as the officer of the watch for a two-day span. In addition, we lead parties to combat the clans, to send messages, to serve as escorts, and to do all other orders that the Knight of the Bloody Gate gives us."

In an attempt to lighten the otherwise boring topic, seriously, I am close to falling off my horse in boredom. "And I assume you are one of those Under Keepers?" She chuckled.

He smiled back, taking no offense at the amusing tone. "Yes my lady. I serve as one of the Under Keepers along with Ser Landon Shett, Ser Mychel Templeton, and Ser Donnel Waynwood."

"Do you enjoy it?"

"Of very much so. It is a great experience, a time of learning. It is nice to be trained with arms, but to be able to test your leadership is another benefit." At this, he leaned closer to her. "It also helps with future endeavors." He spoke softly as if it were a secret.

At this point, she was just responding so as not to be rude, starting to regret speaking to the talkative knight.. "Oh, how so?"

"Serving as an officer at the Bloody Gate is a wonderful way to have your name be remembered. Many of the recorded Knights of the Bloody Gate had served as an officer previously. Your good uncle is among the small minority to not have served as an officer previously, no offense meant my lady."

That perked her up. If a new appointment was necessary, there was much more politics included than she previously thought. She decided to test the waters to to speak.

"You know Ser Henric…my uncle, while experienced, is getting on in years. Tell me honestly, who do you think will succeed him, if it was in fact one of the current officers?"

He attempted to deflect by laughing. "Well my lady, I couldn't possibly begin to-"

"Please good ser, give me your honest opinion."

"…Very well. Ser Jai is a good man, true and sound. But he is also getting older as well. To be open, I am surprised he has not resigned yet already. Perhaps because he wouldn't leave Ser Brynden without any senior officers. Of myself and the other three…I'd say either myself or Ser Donnel."

And now, to pry. "And why is that?"

"Ser Landon Shett's appointment was more for his family than him. Oh he'll do his duty, no doubt. But I always suspected that he would feel better back in Gulltown, by the water. As for Ser Mychel Templeton, it is the exact opposite. He had always wanted to serve at the Gate, but his father was against it. After the next appointment, his father made him promise to resign and return home."

"Which leaves you and Ser Donnel."

"Yes. He's a good knight too. Honorable and courageous. Although I wish it, I feel that he would most likely be chosen. He is dedicated to the Gate, supported by his family, and proven himself to both Ser Brynden, and Lord Arryn."

"But what of you, do you not have your own dreams?"

"Perhaps my lady, but I'm a third son. In the Vale, there are not many places to rise. I am no fan of tourneys, and I find the Wall to be too…finite. Besides the Gate, there are not many places to rise. I'd be honored to be appointed as any of the senior officers."

"And would you? I imagine it can be difficult."

"Oh yes, it is. The Knight, the Keeper, and the Gatekeeper are all appointed by Lord Arryn. The four Under Keepers are all appointed by the Knight with tentative approval from Lord Arryn. Becoming an officer is difficult. Becoming one of the senior officers is incredibly rare."

Deciding to end the conversation she took a tone as such. "Well, continue to impress me, and I'll put in a good word, I promise."

And that's when it opened up. The scenery. They had been along a mountain path for hours when they reached the crest. And then they saw it. The Eyrie, in all its glory. Just about half a league away was the Gates of the Moon. Once they reached there, her escort would leave her as the rest of the journey was completely safe. Most likely they'd receive another escort as ceremonial announcers.

Ser Henric must have seen her face. "First time my lady?" He smirked at her.

It was difficult to keep her jaw from dropping open. Winterfell was a mighty castle. A clod, barren, fortress that demanded respect, and dealt harsh wounds. But the Eyrie was a majestic castle. It had no need for curtain walls when it sat atop a spiring peak.

The party had stopped when she and Ser Henric had halted to admire the view. He leaned over to her, as if to excite her for a surprise. "Ready to ascend the Giant's Lance?"

Robb Stark

He and Edwyle had prayed in the Godswood for over an hour. After he became too restless to kneel, he asked to spar with his brother. But soon, even that was not enough to keep his mind off of the present situation. Finally, his father had taken him and walked around the perimeter of the castle, quite the walk indeed. They conversed from talks about his father's past, to lessons, and everything else.

It was soon sundown. It had been over half the day since Dacey began to show signs of giving birth. It was not too soon when a guard rushed to them, informing them that the Maester had summoned them.

It was fortunate that they had been outside, away from the thick walls of the keep. Observing the faces of the servants and workers, evidently it had not been a quiet birth. He wondered how loudly his she-bear of a wife roared. As he made the final turn down the hall, he father stopped walking, sensing this, he turned around.

"Father, what's wrong?"

His father gave him a small, kind, smile. "Go Robb, meet your child. I shall greet them soon enough. Have this time with your wife, by yourselves." At this, Edwyle, Sansa, and Arya had reached father, he held them back with an arm.

He nodded appreciatively to him before taking the final paces down the hall. Reaching the door, she opened it. Inside, the maester was sitting in a chair, there was a lot of blood covering his apron. To the side, one of the midwives was washing some clothes in a bucket of water, no doubt to hang and dry. And then he saw her.

His dear wife. They shared many memories together. They had sparred together; they had laughed together…they had a few fights amongst each other. But they never saw love between them. Or so he thought. But seeing her laying their; sweat adorning her face, breathing as if she had just fought a battle, which, she most certainly has.

She turned to him and the smile she gave him warmed his heart. Perhaps love could blossom between them. She never looked more beautiful than she did now. And in her arms, lay a bundle of furs.

He stood there, in the doorframe, frozen. Unsure of what to do. Maester Luwin looked at him and gave him a kind smile. "Lady Dacey did splendidly my Lord. The babe's healthy too." He gestured for him to go further.

Finally finding his courage, Robb approached the bed and sat at the end. He leaned over to kiss his wife above her brow. And then he looked down. It was so peaceful. She told him that the babe had cried up a storm but had thankfully gone to sleep.

"…So…what is the child-"

"Robb. Meet your son."

And Dacey handed over his child at that moment. Gods, what if I drop him. And then he was shoved into his arms. Right then, he knew he would protect his son from anything, no matter what.

Maester Luwin waddled over, no doubt tired himself from such an experience. "My lord, lady. I'll need a name…to put in the records." He smiled kindly. He knew this was a special moment.

He looked into the eyes of his wife, searching for ideas. But she shook her head. Speaking much more softly than normal, she spoke. "It's yours Robb. We agreed. I shall name our daughters, and you, our sons."

Although it felt unfair in the moment, Dacey was encouraging.

He looked at his son for many moments, before turning and looking Luwin in the eyes.

"Winterfell, and the North, shall welcome Samsyn Stark to the world."

*So I have always been tired of fanfics naming a new Stark as 'Torrhen or Cregan or Eddard.' It is boring. So I did some research into other Northern names, as well as their naming conventions themselves. I came to the finals two possible names of either Samsyn or Rodwell.

Rodwell is a historical Stark name, with at least one Rodwell Stark serving as Lord of Winterfell Post-Aegon the Conquerer. Samsyn was a lot more original, but felt stronger and more creative.

The name is pronounced like the modern version of Sampson, minus the 'P'. (Sam-Sin)