It seemed everywhere Eddard Stark turned, he glimpsed death. From every battle he fought in during the rebellion to the Tower of Joy…so much blood and death. His heart thudded. He had expected bloodshed outside the Tower of Joy, but inside? Ned assumed he would find his sister alive – terrified perhaps, but alive. Instead, he discovered her in a bed of blood, dying.
"Promise me, Ned."
"Lord Stark? We are almost at Riverrun." Already? Last time Ned stopped for a short rest was in a tavern somewhere in the Reach. He glanced at the little crannogman at his side – he was the last of his six companions that went with him to that blasted tower; he was also one of the few who truly knew Lyanna. Howland Reed was a small man like all crannogmen, and the subject of laughter. If it was not for Howland Reed, I would not be here today. I would not be riding to Riverrun to collect my wife and…son.
"Lady Stark will not be pleased," the little crannogman said nervously. "Lord Stark, ah, perhaps to save her any pain, perhaps it will be wise if-"
"No," Ned interrupted. "It is kind of you to offer, Lord Reed, and I am grateful, but the boy belongs at Winterfell. He is of my blood after all."
"Indeed Lord Stark, but you wish for both the boy and your lady wife to suffer under the pretence that the boy is your…?"
Ned nodded sadly. "It would be easier for us all if you care for the boy, but that is not right. One day I will tell him the truth, I will tell my wife the truth too, but not now. Lady Lysa will not need to know of it until we arrive at Winterfell."
"That will hurt her greatly my lord."
"Aye. Lady Lysa will understand one day." I hope. "I heard you have a child too, Lord Reed. A boy or girl?"
Howland Reed smiled. "A girl." He rummaged in his pouch and pulled out a leaf. "My wife Jyana sent this to me a day after she gave birth to our child. It is light green – a girl. If it is dark green, the child is a boy. An old crannogmen tradition." He added when Ned could not help but look puzzled. "You have a son my lord?"
"A son," Ned affirmed with a nod. "I have asked Lysa to name him Robb, in honour of my friend, our king." No doubt his lady wife planned to call their child Rickard after his father, but it was too painful. Perhaps one day in the future he would be ready to have a son named Rickard, but for now, young Robb was enough. The north had an heir and he had a son. Ned hardly knew Lysa Tully, but he was confident that baby Robb would help them build a strong relationship; a content marriage even.
"We have a new king my lord, a new future."
"We do indeed." They rode passed the last few trees on River Road and Riverrun had become clearer in sight. "I hope one day our children will meet."
The little crannogman shook his head with the faintest of smiles. "I highly doubt that they will my lord. I highly doubt that they will."
"Oh?" Ned spotted four men with fish-crest helms standing at the gates. "Why is that? I will be honoured to foster your daughter at Winterfell. What did you name your baby daughter Lord Reed?"
"Meera, Lord Stark. An old crannogmen name. I too am honoured you are willing to foster my daughter at Winterfell, but I'm afraid I must decline the offer. My daughter is a crannogman and must learn our ways. If I have no sons, Meera will succeed as the next Lady of Greywater Watch. She must be taught all our customs and traditions as much as your son must know the ways of the north."
"Lord Stark!" One of the fish-crest helmed men recognised Ned. "My lord, we did not expect you here so soon! I'm afraid Lord Tully is not here."
"That is alright," said Ned, dismounting from his horse. "My companion Lord Reed of Greywater Watch and I will not remain here for long. We will stay for a day and then we will ride home with Lady Lysa and our son."
"Of course my lord!" Riverrun's gates were opened immediately and the guards bade for Ned and the little crannogman to enter. They were escorted to the Great Hall where a red-haired lady sat waiting, a gurgling babe in her arms.
Lady Lysa Tully.
Well, it would be Lady Lysa Stark now.
Gazing at her, Ned did not recognise her as the young woman he married at the sept. What was it about her…? Most likely the glow of motherhood, Ned assumed. He forced a smile on his face as he saw his lady wife beam at him, her bright blue eyes sparkling like the small sapphires roped around her slim neck. Lysa Tully was quite pretty and looked as delicate as glass. Her long, thick locks of auburn hair fell down to her slender waist as she stood up to greet them.
"Lord husband." Lysa's beam widened. "You have finally come. Both Robb and I have been waiting for you." Before Ned could say a word, she shifted the baby from her arms to his. "My lady!" Ned protested. His son giggled; Ned looked down at him. For a second, he felt like he was holding Edmure Tully's son. Little Robb squirmed happily in his arms as he continued staring at him. He unquestionably favoured the Tully side with his tuft of auburn hair and blue eyes.
"The boy is handsome my lord, my lady," said Lord Reed, peering at Robb. Lady Lysa frowned slightly at him. "And who are you-?"
"This is my good friend Howland Reed, Lord of Greywater Watch," Ned introduced at once. "Lord Reed, this is my wife, Lady Lysa Stark." Lysa blinked and continued to look at him blankly. "Lord Reed is a crannogman," said Ned uncomfortably.
Lysa tilted her head inquisitively. "A crannogman? How peculiar!"
"There is nothing peculiar about crannogmen my lady," said Lord Reed kindly. "I am as much a Northerner as your lord husband and very soon, yourself my lady."
"Crannogmen…I never heard of crannogmen before."
"Not many people have, my lady. We live in small villages formed of reeds and thatch that sit atop floating islands in the mire deep in the swamps of the Neck." He smiled as Lysa recoiled with horror. "You will not see us much, my lady. In fact, when you become settled in Winterfell, I doubt you will see me again."
"Crannogmen…" Lysa murmured, more to herself.
"Riverrun is beautiful," said Ned hastily, hoping to change Lysa's thoughts.
"Thank you my lord. I hear Winterfell is enchanting. I highly suspect both Winterfell and Riverrun will be shadowed by the beauty of the Red Keep. Where is your sister, my lord? Has she set off to King's Landing already? Will we be there for the wedding?" Ned swallowed and bit his lip, a habit common in his family in uncomfortable situations. His elder brother Brandon never bit his lip; he never found himself in a distressing position. His younger brother Benjen did, often due to disappointment when he would learn that he would be the Stark left behind at Winterfell. His sister Lyanna…she was biting her lip when she left Harrenhal.
"What is it?" said Lysa worriedly. "Have I offended you my lord?"
"There will be no wedding," Ned muttered. Lysa's eyes widened. "Lyanna is dead," he said quietly. "We will not be going to King's Landing for some time, my lady."
"My condolences…"
"Can you take me to the godswood my lady? I wish to have a moment alone." Sensing Lysa's reluctance, he went on, "I will join you for supper, I promise. I yearn to hear more about our dear son." A bright smile returned to Lysa's face and she promptly led him out of the Great Hall, leaving the little crannogman on his own. She pointed to the closest of Riverrun's gardens. "The godswood is in there. Do you see the sept? The godswood is a short walk from there. Both the godswood and the sept are in the heart of our two huge gardens. Would you like to take Robb with you?"
Ned hesitated. "Yes," he said finally. "If you do not mind."
"He is your son as much as mine." Lysa kissed Robb on the forehead and handed him to Ned again. "I will be in my chambers." She turned to leave. "Wait," Ned called. "Go and talk to Lord Reed, will you?" Lysa frowned. "Lord Reed? My lord…"
"As a favour for me. Lord Reed is one of my bannermen Lysa. As Lady of Winterfell, it will be your duty to know all my bannermen as well as I know them." Doubt marked all over Lysa's face, she managed a very reluctant nod. As if approving, Robb blew a bubble at her. A smile crept on Ned's lips. Gently kissing Lysa's hand, he headed into the garden to Riverrun's godswood, carefully holding his infant son. Though Ned truly missed the godswood at Winterfell, he must admit Riverrun's godswood was quite cheery – a hint of joy was what he needed after almost a year of deaths and bloodshed. Bright and airy, the Riverrun godswood overflowed with redwoods, a variety of flowers, nesting birds and even clear blue streams.
Once Ned reached the heart tree – a slender carved weirwood – he fell to his knees. It had felt like a lifetime since he knelt in front of a heart tree. Please guide me, Ned prayed. You have made me the second son of Lord Rickard Stark of Winterfell and Lady Lyarra of House Stark at birth but now you have decided for me to be the Lord of Winterfell via the deaths of my father and Brandon. Oh old gods, please guide me. Please protect and guide my wife and son. Robb blew a wet bubble at him.
Ned remained on his knees and closed his eyes. He was tired of the south. He wanted to return to Winterfell and stay there for the rest of his life. Of course it was impossible, but a man could hope.
"Winterfell will be cold," Ned murmured to baby Robb. "Much colder than Riverrun. It will be strange for you; a cold summer and an even colder winter. You are a Stark – it is in your blood to survive the cold." Robb smiled happily at him. Will he be like me? Ned wondered, or will he be more like Lysa? He did not feel much closer to her – what kind of woman was Lady Lysa Tully Stark? Lysa still faintly seemed like a young girl, but she was only seventeen years old and had probably lived a rather sheltered life under Lord Hoster's protective gaze. After fighting in a number of battles and discussing strategies with Lord Tully, Ned learnt that the Lord of Riverrun wrote letters to his daughters and only son at about twice a few days and would've sent his brother the Blackfish to return home and protect them if the Blackfish himself had not objected.
"You will not be alone at Winterfell," Ned whispered, stroking Robb's head. "You will have a friend there, a brother if you like. His name is Jon. He is of the same age as you, if not a little older. I hope you two will be the best of brothers." Robb stared at him quietly with his wide blue eyes. "I loved my siblings," Ned continued, "and I consider the king a brother – you are named after him. I hope one day you'll be close to your siblings. When I was fostered at the Eyrie, it was one of the best times in my life. My only regret is not knowing my sister and elder brother better." A smile broke in his solemn expression as Robb blew another bubble, yawned and snuggled in his arms. In a few seconds, he had fallen fast asleep.
Ned's stay at Riverrun was longer than he expected. He thought that two days were sufficient – he soon discovered that Lysa had not yet packed her trunks and baggage for the journey north.
"Did you not receive my message Lysa?" Ned had asked, confused. His wife had given him that blank stare that Robb seemed to have inherited (though he was a child and a blank stare could be normal for babes his age). Lysa had not answered but had hurried away. That very evening, half her bags were prepared.
By the end of the third day, Ned found Lysa in the rookery, sending a letter, no doubt to Lady Arryn. "Are you ready to leave at dawn tomorrow?" he inquired. His wife shook her head. "I have so much to do," she murmured absently. "So much…"
"My lady…we must go to Winterfell soon. You are the Lady of Winterfell now."
"I do not have enough warm clothes, lord husband. I cannot go north without a trunk of suitable attire, lord husband."
"I will have warm clothes made for you at Winterfell dear wife."
"Would I not be cold on the way to Winterfell my lord?"
Ned gritted his teeth. Lady Lysa had months to prepare for her trip to Winterfell. He wondered if all River ladies were this difficult. His own parents' marriage seemed to be perfect; both compromised when needed to. That ended when Ned's lady mother died of a fever during a particularly vicious winter. Perhaps he should've married a sensible northern girl instead of Lysa Tully. At least all highborn northern maidens had glimpsed Winterfell before; they wouldn't hesitate to leave home for Winterfell.
With a sigh, Ned had left Lysa to her own devices and went off to find his crannogman friend, who had been practically ignored at Riverrun. "How much longer will we remain here my lord?" Lord Reed asked patiently. "Riverrun is beautiful and cosy, but I'm afraid Greywater Watch calls for me."
"As Winterfell calls for me Lord Reed," said Ned with a sigh. "I thought my wife would be more…understanding. I thought you would've been ready to leave the moment both of us arrived at Riverrun. It is not right for us to stay here too long."
"Is Lady Stark ready yet my lord?"
Ned shook his head. "I believe she is stalling. It is understandable that one would not want to leave his or her childhood home, but it must be done. I will try and convince her to be ready quickly. Howland, you have no reason to stay here. Your wife and daughter are both waiting for you. Even if we did travel back together, we would go our separate ways eventually – near the Twins I believe. You will have no need to deal with the Freys to go home. In fact, your presence at the Twins will um…infuriate Lord Frey."
"That is indeed true, Lord Stark. The Freys and the crannogmen have never seen any matters eye to eye. If you insist I depart, I will leave at dawn."
"Send a raven to Benjen when you arrive at Greywater Watch, will you? When you're home, I might still be in the Riverlands or on my own way home. Once I too have set foot in the north, I will send you a raven."
Lord Reed nodded. "I wish you a speedy journey my lord."
"I want to be kind to my wife, I truly do, but how can I ask her to pack her belongings a little quicker? Riverrun is her home."
The little crannogman thought for a moment. "Lady Lysa is still young," he said at last. "She is a southroner and must have a keen interest in those songs the southron maidens love so much. She will be unused to the blunt truth of us northerners. This may sound odd, Lord Stark, but perhaps describe the beauty of Winterfell to Lady Lysa? In her mind, no doubt Winterfell is a plain castle in the cold, icy north that is much more austere than Riverrun. That may have influenced her decision not to pack in a hurry."
"You are wise, Lord Reed. I'm afraid I am not one for describing castles though. I will think more on the matter. You have been quite insistent that once we are home, there'll be little chance that we meet again. Why is that? There is always the harvest feasts. All northern lords go to Winterfell for it."
"Perhaps we will meet then," Lord Reed conceded. "This is still springtime. For all we know, autumn can be decades away."
"I will ask Lysa to give you food that will hopefully last the journey. Not all Rivermen are pleasant to crannogmen." Lord Reed shuddered in agreement. It was thanks to the two bullying squires of a Haigh and a Frey knight that brought the little crannogman to the Starks' company at the Harrenhal tourney.
"I suppose this is the last time we speak before we go our separate ways," said Lord Howland with the tiniest of smiles. "I will never forget the Lady Lyanna," he added more quietly. "If it was not for her…" His voice trailed off. If it was not for Lyanna, Lord Reed would never have met Brandon, Ned or Benjen. If Lord Reed hadn't met Ned, he would not have accompanied him to the Tower and Joy and saved his life. If Ned had died that day at the Tower of Joy, he would not be able to bring Lyanna's bones home.
"Lyanna may have been the reason for Robert's rebellion," murmured Ned, "but in a way, she also saved us."
Lord Reed nodded. "The North remembers, Lord Stark. The North remembers. If by chance Jyana gives me another daughter, I will name her Lyanna, after your sister."
"That is not a name common amongst the crannogmen."
"Indeed, but at times untraditional names are used to honour those you hold dear or respect. Perhaps one day you will meet a Lyanna Reed."
"Perhaps. I wish you well, Lord Reed."
"As I do to you, my lord." Lord Reed dipped his head and slipped out the Great Hall to collect the meagre possessions he had brought with him. Ned sighed to himself. When he was a plain second son, Lord Cerwyn offered him the hand of his younger sister. She was comely and reasonable – Ned wondered if he would've liked her as his wife better than Lady Lysa.
Muttering a quick prayer, Ned headed to his wife's chambers. When he had arrived at Riverrun, oddly enough, he was given a guest apartment instead of a chamber suited for husband and wife. He rapped on Lysa's door. It creaked open and Ned stepped in. Sitting on her bed, Lysa beamed at him. "My lord."
"My lady." Ned nodded at her, glancing around discreetly. Her girlhood chamber was not big nor small. She had a sizeable bed with plump pillows and a dark blue quilt sewn with silver trout motifs. Near her pillows was a stuffed fish toy – a cherished childhood possession? – and on the side of the bed closest to Lysa was a little table constructed from weirwood. Opposite the bed was a large weirwood wardrobe, intricately whittled fish and swirls carved into it. Next to it was a huge window, pristinely clean with not a single speck of dust. Closer to Ned was another table, this one considerably bigger than the other one. Sitting on top of it were scattered pieces of parchment, a couple of books and an array of quills and inkpots. A chair was tucked under the table.
"How is Robb?"
"Sleeping now. I've returned him to his nurse." He pulled out the chair and sat down, facing Lysa. "My lady, I suspect you are afraid of leaving your home for a strange castle in a different region. You need not fear Winterfell my lady."
Lysa did not look at him. "That is simple for you to say, my lord. You were born and raised at Winterfell."
"True," Ned agreed. "However, in my boyhood, I was sent away to be fostered. During the first few days, I missed my home greatly. I can see you are frightened – you will find Winterfell your home eventually. It is a beautiful place, my lady." He racked his mind for more flowery words. "Outside Winterfell it will be cold; inside it is warm. Always warm. When it snows, Winterfell is like um, a winter palace. Snowflakes would adorn the walls and roofs like…diamonds and the glass walls of the glass garden will be blanketed with fog and mist, especially in the mornings. A splendid sight."
Lysa's eyes grew as wide as platters. "Glass garden?"
"It is lovely," said Ned, smiling at her. "My sister…she loved the glass garden." Lyanna preferred riding and racing her brothers but she was fond of the glass garden. When she wanted an hour or two of peace, she'd either go riding or wander in the glass garden. "I will be honoured to give you a tour of the glass garden when we arrive," Ned went on. "I think you will like the glass garden."
"It sounds like an interesting and delightful place my lord."
"It is, my lady. It is. When I was a boy, my siblings and I had our own little sections to tend to in the glass garden. If you so wish, you can have your own too."
"I thought you were fostered with the king my lord?"
"I was. We were given portions in the glass garden before I left." To Ned's delight, his wife was fully interested in Winterfell now. For a moment he wondered how Howland Reed knew methods of entrancing southron ladies that worked. Northmen hardly went south; crannogmen even less. "Have you seen snow, my lady? When it is the heart of the winter season, snow would sometimes reach our knees. Very rare of course, but in the lighter months of winter, children love playing in snow. Would that not be a rather nice sight from the window? Our children playing in snow?"
"Yes…" breathed Lysa, her blue eyes glistening with fascination. "Our children in the snow…we have Robb…and we will have more…"
Ned smiled nervously. He was in no rush to father more children. He now had an heir and Benjen, who was old enough to marry and have children of his own. "You can visit Riverrun whenever you like," he said gently, reaching for her hand. "It is your home as much as Winterfell will be. You will be welcomed at Winterfell, Lysa. The northern lords are eager to meet you."
Lysa nodded and stood up. "I will be ready by tomorrow morning," she promised. "I have a few more things to pack."
"Good." Ned squeezed her hand and rose. "I will see you at supper. I want us to have a happy marriage my lady."
"I do too, my lord."
Ned smiled at her again. "I suppose we can begin by ceasing with all the 'my lord' and 'my lady' courtesies now can we?"
Lysa's dimples emerged as she smiled brightly. "As you wish…Eddard."
I planned to upload a chapter sometime during the last week, but a new semester of uni started again and it was pretty hectic and tiring. I'm actually looking forward to writing the chapter when Lysa meets Jon hehe. So who do you think Robert should marry? I know a lot of you commented that with Catelyn as Lady of the Eyrie, she'd go against a Lannister match or something, but I always thought that as a newly established king, Robert should marry a lady from a Great House. Sadly there aren't that many that are around his age and making OCs to play the part of his queen...I don't really like that idea. Any suggestions for Robert's future wife are welcome :)
