Author's Note

I do not own Game of Thrones.

This is part of the Brother of Wolves verse and set between chapters nine and ten of Life in Winterfell's Halls.

Lordling – Cregan – made himself known around Winterfell on occasion, but Ned saw Sara only once, shortly after Jon had turned twelve.

He found him in the stableyard, reaching up to something unseen, grumbling and complaining. "Stop moving! I can't get the buckle!" He rocked to the side as though dragged, and stumbled on the cobblestones. "Well that's not helping!"

A clatter, and something fell to the ground. A horse's saddle. Jon folded his arms. "I just need you to stay still while I fasten it!" A pause, and then, "I know, but it'll be better once it's–" He jumped and turned to face Ned, his cheeks turning pink. "Father."

"What are you doing?" Ned asked.

"Sara and I were just…" He looked at the space beside him. "Sara, do you think you could show yourself to Father? Maybe he can help."

A shudder, a ripple in the air, and there was a girl at Jon's side. She looked… very much like Jon, and very much like Lyanna, with long dark hair and sallow skin. Perhaps something in the memory of the castle allowed her to bear such a resemblance.

Ned tried to smile. "You must be Sara. It's nice to meet you at last."

Sara growled.

Jon had said she was naughty.

"What were you trying to do?" Ned asked.

Jon squared his shoulders and turned back to Sara. "Sara, you need to be Silverwing again."

And she was.

Jon had been right, all those years ago, when he'd called it the greatest thing he'd ever seen. Nothing could ever have quite prepared Ned to see a dragon the size of a carthorse stood in the Winterfell courtyard.

"We were trying to get the saddle on her," Jon said, and suddenly everything made sense.

Ned walked forward to pick up the saddle and compare it to Sara. Well, he could see why Jon had had the idea, she was about the right size, but her shoulders and muscles were in all the wrong places.

"I don't think a horse saddle will work," he said. "She's not shaped like a horse." He stepped around her, trying to get some measure of her size and shape all while his heart hammered in his chest. "It would need to be wider. With holds on the saddle, I don't imagine you'd get reins on her."

Jon giggled at the idea.

"Would she let me touch her?"

"She'll let it," Jon replied.

"Have her wait. I need to fetch some tools."