Chapter One: Brandon

There were several reasons Eddard didn't like playing with Brandon, but not he felt he should voice an opinion on. Brandon was the first born, the most practiced, and he needed to be the best. His brother didn't feel that way at all. He didn't mind practicing at all, there were even sometimes he looked forward to it, but it was mostly when it didn't involve his brother. It had been rather difficult for him to stand in front of him now, and Brandon knew it, and he thought it was funny.

"Now, no funny business stick to the basics." Ser Rodrick told them. Brandon smiled widely. "Remember, your father is watching."

That was the sobering moment when Eddard watched his brother look up where Lord Rickard was, then quickly at the ground.

"On three…One, two…three."

Brandon was the first to strike and his brother anticipated each swing and easily blocked them. It wouldn't be a good defense for long, but Brandon was very predictable when it came to practicing with wooden swords. He preferred to follow the same motions they practiced because he could do them better than his brother, but it took him a little time to realize he would beat him faster if he just tried something different and out of the pattern. They circled around each other, and every once in a while when Brandon came close to a hit he would laugh. Not too much longer after that Brandon noticed something in the corner of his eye.

It wasn't often that their mother preferred the courtyard, but she was out there today sewing. He imagined his two youngest siblings were playing in the grass next to her. But Lyanna's eyes were glued to the two of them. So, somehow he managed to move them a little closer.

"Come back over here!" Ser Rodrick called.

But Brandon didn't listen; he knew how he was going to end the match, just as quickly as it had started. Ser Rodrick did make Eddard a little slower, because now he was looking to see where Lyanna and Benjen were.

"Didn't you hear Ser Rodrick? We should move…"

Before he could even finish Brandon made a face and pointed toward the ground. He didn't need to say anything. Lyanna liked to play with Eddard, he had all the same things Brandon had only he was much more gentile than Brandon when it came to being around her. But, without really looking Eddard was sure Lyanna was behind him, where Brandon was pointing. He didn't look around to see before he moved a little too sharply to the right and tripped over himself.

Brandon howled with laughter. Lady Stark however, had stopped sewing the moment they were too close. She hadn't found it funny at all; Brandon saw no amusement in her eyes as she pulled him away back to the castle. He struggled against her as far as the main door.

"Where are we going?" He complained.

"To your father. I saw what you did; this is the last time you pull a stunt like that."

"He tripped all by himself!" Brandon argued.

"You know exactly what you did."

"Maybe he shouldn't be so stupid then, but it isn't my fault…"

"It is your fault. You are their older brother; their first line of protection and all they see is they can't trust you."

Once they finally reached their destination he looked up at Lord Rickard, then back at the ground. "Has Eddard moved?"

"He has, it's clear he's fine. After you left them Lyanna brought him some flowers, saw him lying on the ground and decided it was an invitation to roll in the dirt." He sighed. "What did he do?"

She frowned and they both stepped away, leaving Brandon with their guests. He glanced over and watched as they talked in whispers. Then finally they separated, only this time when they separated Lady Stark took to entertaining their guests while Brandon followed grudgingly behind his father.

"Starks are born strong." He told his son. "But strength, without compassion, without honor, it hardly being strong. Strength comes for protection. If it's for you, and your siblings. You are strong for them, you are strongest with them. You were instigating Brandon, and until you are truly strong, you will not hold real steel."

The boy didn't flinch he just looked up at his father and crossed his arms. "I am to be Lord of Winterfell."

"Once you've learned something. You might be, it is after all your birthright. I've named you my heir. Just remember son, the boys you play with today will one day be your men. Treat them with disrespect now, and you may never have their true loyalty."

Another quick glance at his Father's stern face then back down at the ground. "Yes Father, of course."

A few confident, strides and he threw open the chamber door and continued down the hallway. His pace slowed the further he walked, the anger dissipating, his wooden sword tapped against the floor now. Now there was no pressure, no one was here, he was alone. His burden was no longer trying to be a Lord like his father, he was just an eight year old boy. Then he heard a little giggle, he turned and slowly peered around the corner.

It was Eddard's room, the younger boy was sitting on his bed, trying to tell Lyanna a story. In Brandon's opinion she would never be a lady, more times than not they found her digging, or trying to mount one of the horses. It was dangerous, a two year old who favored the stables to her bed chambers. How the people talked on how she could be trampled to death, and how their parents worried. He called several times for her to sit on his bed, instead she crawled under it, jumped on it, then tumbled off onto the floor and ran to his window.

"Please Lyanna, mother will be angry with me if you don't have a nap."

"No, no, noooo, no." she turned, and ran from the room, right in front of where Brandon was. Then, she turned back to the room and laughed. She hadn't noticed any noise from his boots hitting against the floor, she didn't know he was there until Brandon had lifted her off the ground and spun her around.

"Bran! Bran!"

"BRANDON." He corrected.

He carried her into the room and she giggled. Once he was closer to his brother, who now stood, looking at his elder brother embarrassed he dropped her on the bed and covered her in a blanket. Immediately she pretended to dig into the feather bed, and growled.

"What is she doing?" he asked Eddard.

"She's been pretending she's a direwolf all day."

Brandon sighed. "Well, we'll have to take her to Father to have her tied up outside, in the mud, like a direwolf."

She crawled out from under the blanket and looked at Brandon curiously, then she smiled. "Mud!"

"Then mother will have to give her a bath, it might take all night, she might even miss dinner." Brandon teased. He pulled his wooden sword out and held it out, like he was going to duel his brother.

"NO ." She replied firmly. "No, no bath, no bath, NO BATH." She crossed her arms and growled.

"You're making her more angry…."

"She's fine. She's a tame little thing." Brandon put his sword away and pat her head. She waited a moment, her grey eyes blinked a few times, then she smiled and giggled. Then she grabbed at his sword. He put his hands on hers and yanked the sword from her with force, such force that she tumbled onto the floor, blankets surrounding her and she wailed.

"Brandon, she's only two…"

"I don't care, it's my sword." He argued.

"Bran, mean, mean, MEAN." She whined.

He crouched down to her level and scoffed. "Then don't touch my things."

She sniffled, rubbed her eyes, then reached for the sword again. "MINE!" They both said at the same time. Eddard frowned gave her his wooden sword instead.

She smiled and hugged it tight. "Ned!"

"Father will not be pleased." Brandon told Eddard. He even shoved him to prove his point.

"…I didn't do anything."

"You let her have what she wanted. She doesn't learn that way! Mother and Father will scold you for it when I tell them. You're a complete idiot."

Eddard sighed, he looked down to the ground. Now Lyanna was laying on the floor, asleep. In one hand she held the sword, the other she clutched the blanket. "But she's quiet now…."

Brandon shrugged and lifted her up and put her back on his bed. "Why's she in here anyway." He asked his brother. "You should have put her in her room." He leaned down and picked her back up, only this time he cradled her in his arms and sighed.

For a moment his brother looked offended, he hesitated but he had reached out for his brother's shoulder as he turned to go back to the door. "What?" He growled under his breath.

But he hadn't had a moment to respond. She cleared her throat and looked the boys over. "Brandon, what are you doing with your sister?"

"I was taking her back to her room."

"Eddard, when I left her with you did I tell you to bring her to her room?"

"No mother…" He replied. For a second the two of them glanced at each other, he was sure Brandon was furious. Brandon put her back on the bed and crossed his arms, giving him an accusing look.

"After all, if you put her in her room, how am I to get your brother to sleep. She squeels, and cries, absolutely awful. Which of the two of you got her to sleep?"

Brandon smirked. He felt he should only return the favor of feeling humiliated. "Eddard. She was having a fit, and he gave her his sword to calm her down."

"Yes, boys are such trouble." She stood between them, touched the center of their backs and sighed. "Come now you two, if you wake her I'll keep you in charge of watching her all day."

Brandon knew better than to tarry, he was in a rush to leave the room, shoved his brother aside once he was back outside he turned to his brother, smirked and side spitefully. "She's going to destroy all of your things."

It didn't really seem to look like Eddard entirely cared. But once they were almost all the way out of sight from his chambers he did turn to look back, a little unsurely. It made his brother laugh.

"Don't taunt your brother. She won't do anything to his things and you know it. She's laid in his bed and napped for a few weeks now and everything has been fine. Aside from her deciding she might want to wear his clothes. But your father is very persuasive. You agree, don't you?"

"Yes." He replied irritated. "I hadn't done a thing wrong. We were training Mother, there was no reason for you to involve Father."

"Training too roughly, it isn't a war. You have a strong desire to powerful, and a good mind to know what is yours. But, you are too young to act like you are Lord of this castle."

"I will be the Lord of Winterfell." He replied forcefully. Eddard turned to him, his brother had stopped in the hallway, bearing his teeth, and he let out almost a growl.

She started to laugh, she turned around to face him and smiled. "Will you?" She knelt a little, to his level and clasped his hands. "That isn't what I've seen. You are too wild, too forceful, too headstrong, and if you do not learn to listen, you will die. Then Eddard will be Lord of Winterfell."

He pulled away from her. "I WILL BE…"

"Who are you trying to convince? Me or you? Calm down." She stroked his hair. "We have time to help you. You are after all my son, what Mother doesn't protect their children?"