Bran Stark was running, his feet pattering across hard, stone floor. He was breathing hard, and almost tripped once or twice. But he caught himself, and continued running. Father, Robb, Jon and Theon were back.

Father had taken them to witness another beheading. Bran knew the day was fast approaching when he would be taken to see one. He was afraid of it. He had once heard Jon and Robb speak of the first time they had been taken to see their father kill a man, near two . Bran had just sat, fascinated, soaking up every word until Robb had caught him listening, and sent him off. Bran had tried to protest, but his brother was having none of it. He had pleaded with Jon, but his half-brother had only smiled and shook his head. "This isn't something you should listen to," he had explained. Bran had sulked as he was sent off. Old Nan had told him stories of the Long Night later before he went to sleep, but he would have much rather heard about the execution.

Now, they were coming back, and Bran wanted to greet them so badly. He wanted to hear all about it. How bravely the man had been when he faced death. By the time he reached the courtyard, he was breathless. There was his father, Eddard Stark, dismounting from his horse. The party he had taken was in the process of doing so. Harwin was busy getting their steeds into the stables, making sure that every available stable boy was lending a helping hand. Bran, however, was more focused on finding his brothers.

He finally spotted Robb dismounting, and immediately ran over, calling his name. He had caught his breath enough for a short sprint. When Bran was a few steps away, Robb turned to him. He was holding something in his arms which began squirming. Bran stopped when he saw it. It was small, and covered in fur, whimpering. Robb smiled, and gestured Bran closer. The young Stark took slow, even steps forward, curious and wonder struck. When he was close enough Robb bent down so he was, offering Bran the small animal. "What is that?" Bran asked, then felt foolish as he took it into his arms. Anyone could see it was a wolf pup. It had grey fur, and it's eyes were closed shut. It couldn't have been very old.

Robb's eyes twinkled. "It's a direwolf," he told his brother. Bran gazed down at the pup in his arms, now excited and awestruck.

"Are they any more?" Bran asked as the pup curled up to him. A snort from behind him drew his attention. He turned to see Theon Greyjoy coming forward, awkwardly holding yet another direwolf pup. The front of his riding pants were slightly damp.

"Aye," he grumbled, speaking quickly, "six. Three males, two females, and an albino." He handed his pup to Robb awkwardly. Robb took it with great care, being as gentle as he could. The pup whimpered, squirming, but settled once it was firmly in Robb's hands. Theon didn't waste another word as he stalked off quickly. Bran stared after him. There seemed to be a large, faded stain covering one of boots, and an awful but faint smell was coming from it.

"What's wrong with Theon?" Bran asked, confused as he turned back to his brother. Robb laughed lightly.

"Do you want to know how we found them? The pups?" Robb asked. Bran nodded eagerly. "Jon and I were racing ahead of everyone else on the way back from the beheading. We were passing by a stream when I heard whimpering. I stopped, and so did Jon. He wanted to know what was wrong. I told him to shut up and listen, and followed the sound, and found a direwolf. She was dead, but I saw something moving. It was a litter of five pups. Jon went off and got the others, and we showed father. Some of the men, Theon among them, wanted to kill the pups. They said they would die without their mother, and father agreed with them. I argued against it. The direwolf is the sigil of our house, Bran. It would have been wrong to kill them."

"But then Jon pointed out that there were five direwolf pups. One for each of the Stark children," Robb paused, and cast a sidelong glance. Bran followed it, and saw Jon Snow, his bastard half-brother. He had what must be the smallest of the direwolf pups, a white one with red eyes. The albino, Bran realised. "But none for the Snow," Robb said softly. His voice had the tiniest hint of sadness. Bran understood why Robb was sad. Jon had left himself out.

But then he became confused. "But Robb, Jon has a direwolf. A white one. There are enough." Robb turned back to his brother, still cradling the grey pup. He chuckled.

"As we were leaving, Jon found that one. An albino for a bastard," he explained. Robb was smiling now. Bran also smiled, overjoyed that his half-brother should have a direwolf. But something else was nagging at him.

"But Robb," Bran said, "what's wrong with Theon?"

At that moment, Jon finally came over. "You haven't told him that yet Robb?" he asked, the white direwolf staring around with bright red eyes. They locked onto Bran, and the two stared at one another, before the pup looked away. Bran found it strange that it's eyes should be open, and not any of the other pups.

"I was going to," Robb said. "Though I suppose you should tell Bran that bit, seeing as you were actually there for it."

"Aye," Jon said, smiling mischievously, before he turned to Bran. "We were walking back to the horses when Theon stepped in the carcass of a stag. The direwolf who birthed these pups must have killed it. She was covered in wounds from the battle, and the stag's back was shredded. I actually found this one right next to it's body." He held up the albino pup. "Gods, the smell was awful. Theon stepped right into it's stomach, and it burst open. He had to wash off in the stream. Might even have to throw his boots away." Both Robb and Jon laughed. Bran joined in as well, imagining what Theon must have felt like.

"C'mon," Jon told his younger brother, "let's get the pups inside."

Robb stood up, and Bran followed his two brothers as they headed for the warm interior of Winterfell. Bran's mother appeared at that moment. She was about to greet then when she saw the pups. "Gods," she said, eyes wide, "where did you get these?"

"Direwolves, mother!" Bran said quickly, smiling, "Jon and Robb found them. There's six of them, one for all of us!"

Catelyn Stark's inhaled a sharp breath, surprised. She quickly recovered however. "Where is your father? Did he allow you to keep these beasts?" she asked.

"Aye," said a voice Bran should have expected, but was still surprised to hear. He turned around to see his father, Eddard Stark, coming towards them. He was carrying Ice in its sheath. He looked down to stare at Bran. Bran wasn't sure what his father was thinking, but he seemed thoughtful. Out of the corner of his eye, Bran saw his mother's face grow tense as she stared at Jon's pup. His mother had no love for his bastard half-brother. It hurt Bran whenever he saw her mistreat him. He loved Jon just much as he did his trueborn siblings, but his mother just could never bring herself to feel anything but contempt for Jon.

He returned his attention back to his father when he heard him. He had the face he used whenever he was speaking as Ned Stark, his father, and not the Lord of Winterfell. "It is good to see you, Bran. I see you've gotten yourself one of these beasts," Ned Stark told him, "so I shall tell you what I told your brothers. These are not dogs. They are direwolves. Mistreat him, and he will tear your arm off. The servants will want nothing to do with this beast. You must train him, feed him, and care for him yourself. And if it dies, you must bury it yourself. Do you understand?"

Bran wasn't sure if he could manage all that. He didn't know the first thing about how he was supposed to feed the pup, let alone train him. He turned to his brothers, hoping for some moral support. Robb gave him a wink, while Jon just stood stock still. But there was a faint glimmer in his eyes. Bran smiled, and turned back to his father. "Yes, father," he said, protectively clutching the pup tighter. The small bundle yelped, startling Bran. Jon and Robb couldn't help but laugh.

"Very well," father said to Bran, smiling slightly, "Robb, Jon, get some men and take the pups to the kitchens. I shall be in the godswood. My Lady," father turned to mother, "you may come and get me if anything should arise that requires my attention." With that, father started to leave. Bran and his brothers watched him go, as did Catelyn Stark.

She turned to her children and Jon. She gave him a short, hard glancing stare before speaking. "You all heard your lord father. Get the pups to the kitchens. I shall get Rickon and the girls."


The pups had been placed on a small makeshift bed of rags on the table, nestling against each other for warmth. Bran was watching them admiringly. Most of the pups had grey fur, except for Jon's albino and a black one. He had heard stories of direwolves from Old Nan. Vicious beasts which had once ran throughout the North, wild and free. They grew to monstrous sizes, and there were stories of them fighting alongside the old Kings of Winter. When mother had brought Rickon and the girls to the kitchens, Arya had gasped with delight, and immediately ran over. Sansa had followed instantly, pushing Arya aside. She gently ran her over their soft fur. "Oh," she said softly, "oh, they're beautiful!" She gently lifted one of the females off the rags, and held it lovingly.

Arya reached over, and picked one up. Bran saw it was a girl. She held the pup up to her face, smiling at it. "This one's mine!" She said proudly. She tucked the pup into her arm, making it comfortable. The pup yawned, and laid its head against it, breathing in content. Arya stroked her back, nodding. "I have the perfect name for her!" she declared. Sansa looked at her younger sister.

"Truly? Go on, tell us!" she asked giddy with excitement as she picked up her own pup. Bran caught the small tease in her voice.

"Nymeria!" Arya declared proudly. Sansa's face took on a look of complete horror. Bran couldn't help but smile. His oldest sister looked completely ridiculous.

"Arya! That's a horrible name!" Sansa sounded completely scandalized, while Jon and Robb laughed. Mother hand was trying to conceal a smile, while Rickon was staring around at everyone.

Arya replied to Sansa's comments immediately. "No it's not! It's the name of the warrior queen who lead the Rhoynar to Westeros and united all of Dorne! How is it horrible? It's better than anything you can come up with!"

"But Nymeria was a witch, Arya! She was completely horrible! You should have named your pup after a proper lady, like Jonquil or Jenny or Narys! They were all proper highborn ladies!" Then she brightened, and smiled in triumph, beaming. "And I do have a better name!" She looked down at her pup, stroking her back. "Lady. Yes, she'll be a fine, proper lady."

Arya snorted in disgust. "That's a horrid name for a direwolf! They're fearsome beasts, Sansa, not pampered dogs!"The two began arguing over who had the better name when Mother intervened.

"Girls, stop this! They are both fine names!" She moved to them, setting Rickon down as she did, trying to act as the peacemaker between her daughters. Bran wasn't sure if his mother would be able to make them stop arguing. Rickon, meanwhile, was just staring at his sisters, alarmed. Jon and Robb were both laughing at the girls' childish argument.

Bran walked over, and showed Rickon the grey pup sleeping in his arms. Rickon gave it a queer look of fascination and fear. "This my pup, Rickon," he told his younger brother. "Go ahead. You can touch him."

Bran took Rickon's hand, and gently put it on the pup's soft back. Rickon quickly withdrew it, his face blank, but eyes wide with fear. "It's okay, Rickon," Bran told him, taking his hand. He began to lead his little brother over to the bed where the black pup was. "There's one for you as well."

Bran made sure to avoid his mother and sisters as he bought Rickon up to the table. He pushed a chair up, and tried to help his little brother onto it. It was tedious trying to help the youngest Stark onto the chair while Bran was holding his own pup. "Here, Bran," he heard Robb say, the sound of boots stamping lightly onto the floor clear. He turned to see his eldest brother coming over. Robb reached down with his free arm, and used it to grab Rickon, pulling him up onto the chair. Robb then pointed at the black pup. "See that, little brother?" Robb reached over, picked up the pup, and held it so that it was directly in front of Rickon. "This is yours, Rickon," he told him. "Do you want to hold him?"

Rickon stared wide eyed at the pup. He looked first at Robb, then at Bran, then back to the pup. still wasn't too sure, but he tentatively held out his arms. Robb gently put the black furred bundle into them, helping Rickon to hold it properly. Rickon was nervous for a bit, but started to settle down, sitting onto the chair. The pup squirmed, and pressed it's muzzle against his face, licking his cheek brief. Rickon giggled.

"What are you going to name him?" Bran asked. Rickon glanced at Bran, then at his pup, and spoke.

"Shaggydog!"

Bran saw Robb blink, surprised, and then laughed. This was followed by the sound of Sansa and Arya laughing as well. Bran hadn't realised they had stopped fighting until he had just heard them. Rickon turned to his older brother, frowning. "What's wrong?" he asked, "Isn't it a good name?"

"Oh, Rickon, it's a wonderful name," Sansa said, stifling her laughter. She stepped closer, bending down next to him. "I'm sure he'll grow up to be big and strong, just like you."

Rickon beamed after that, smiling wide before turning to Bran. He pointed at the pup he was holding. "What's his name?"

Bran furrowed his brows as he tried to think. "I don't know what I should call him yet," he admitted. He looked over to Robb. "Do you have any ideas, Robb?"

Robb had a thoughtful expression on his face for a moment. Then he answered, using a voice that sounded like their lord father's. "It's your pup, Bran. You should name him," he declared.

Bran frowned, before sighing. "Okay," he said, looking to his pup. Sorry I don't have a name for you. He looked up at Robb. "What will you name yours?"

Robb answered immediately. "His name is Grey Wind," he stated, beaming with pride at the young pup, "and he'll grow up to be big and strong, just like all these pups." Then he looked over. Bran followed his gaze to see Jon, standing in the corner. His pup was staring with bright red eyes, watching everything. "And that just leaves you Jon," Robb said to his bastard half brother. "Got a name for yours?"

Jon nodded. "Ghost," he said. Bran thought the name was very fitting for the white direwolf pup.

"Very good names," mother's voice said quickly, a bit stern, "all of you." Bran turned to see his mother's face, slightly rigid. He was about to speak about not having come up with a name when she continued. "Bran, I am sure you will think of something soon enough."

Bran felt his pup whimper, and realised something. "Shouldn't we feed them?"

Sansa perked at that. "Quite right, Bran. I'm sure these little things are starving. Robb, do we have any milk?"

Robb nodded. "I've already sent servants to get some. They should be here soon."

"Lady Stark," a voice said. Bran turned to see it was maester Luwin. He was holding an unopened letter in his hand. His voice sounded slightly urgent. Mother walked over to him, and took the letter. "It is for Lord Stark," Bran heard the maester say, before they started to speak in hushed whispers. Bran tried to listen in, but he could not pick up a single word. Finally, mother turned back to them. "I shall have to see your father," she told them all, her voice commanding and stern, "ensure that these pups are properly fed." With that, she left, with the maester following behind her.

Bran felt something had changed. But he wasn't sure what. He wanted to ask Bran, but his pup's whining and nipping made him realise that he was probably hungry. So, he took it upon himself to feed him. When the servants arrived with milk, Robb and Sansa got some clothes and soaked them in it, handing them out. Bran took one, and carefully placed it in the pup's mouth, letting it feed. Bran looked around as his siblings feed their pups, Sansa helping Rickon feed his, and smiled.


AN: Well, this was a hassle. This started out as a Ned chapter, but became a Bran chapter instead, and then I lost some of it, and had to rewrite.

I must say, I was surprised at the response the first chapter got. Thanks to everyone who reviewed it! Hopefully, the next chapter won't take me as long.

I have plans to write some other fanfics concurrently, but for now, this will have to be my main project. Till next chapter, readers!