Epilogue:
Seven years later, his sibling were gathered once again for his name day, only this time the group of children included three of his own. He watched as Sansa lectured Josslyn about at least attempting to make a lady of their daughter Catelyn, who even bore his own mother's Tully hair and eyes. Their son Ned, flung a bit of bread at his cousin, Brandon, the son that Marci had born Rickon who was only nine months older than Ned and the two descended into laughter.
Marci, was cooing over the three year old girl, Dany in Josslyn's arms, saying how much she looked like her mother, Dany not paying attention in the slightest, instead she was playing with a tiny dire wolf cub that Summer had brought home for her. Every time Josslyn had a child, around that child's third birthday Summer and Winter would come trotting into Winterfell and drop a cub in the child's lap. Ned had already begun to talk about his wolf dreams, and Bran knew the young boy had inherited more than just his Stark looks. Josslyn was already heavy again with their forth child, who Bran had dreamed would be a boy only the night before. When he told Josslyn of his dream, she just smiled and said, "One of them will be."
"You damned Lannisters and your twins," Bran had laughed.
"Not a Lannister, my darling," she had cooed in his ear making his groin twitch. "I'm a Stark, or did you forget that."
"I could never forget that Josslyn Stark," Bran whispered in her ear. And it was true. She had shed her lion pelt and become a dire wolf through and through, and never once had she ever looked back.