Chapter 5
Eddard
After his three children left for King's Landing, and his bastard son left for the Wall, Ned remained in Winterfell with his wife and his two youngest children. He wished Robb did not leave. Ned wanted to be the one to go with his daughters instead of his eldest son, his heir, but the King insisted for Robb to go, so he could not refuse. He did hope that they never forget they were from the North. Nothing would disappoint him more if they did.
When Ned looked at his youngest son, Rickon, he sat on a bunch of steps with his direwolf, watching the blacksmiths smelting new weapons. He went over to him, gaining his son's attention. Even though Ned had a warm smile, he couldn't help but notice how Rickon had a grim look on his face the closer he drew himself. Ned knew why. He was worried about Bran.
"What are you sitting down here for?"
Instead of facing his father, he turned back to the blacksmiths, watching them again as he asked, "When will I see Bran and Mother again?"
"Soon. I promise." To be honest, Ned didn't know the answer, but he wanted his son to have hope that they will return. "Now, go on. I don't want to see you mopping about."
Rickon got off his seat and walked away with his direwolf trotting next to him. Ned watched him clinging his direwolf's fur to give him comfort over the situation. He couldn't help but feel pity for the boy. How his brother laid in his bed, unable to wake up, and how his mother barely saw anyone.
Enough was enough, Ned decided to go inside and headed to Bran's room. The thick stone walls made the inside nice and warm, while the snow swirled out there. Catelyn was there beside his bed doing embroidery work. She had been there, day and night, for close on a fortnight. Not for a moment had she left Bran's side. She had her meals brought to her there, and chamber pots as well, and a small hard bed to sleep on, though it was said she had scarcely slept at all. She fed him herself, the honey and water and herb mixture that sustained life. Not once did she leave the room.
Ned stood in the door for a moment, watching her. Her long auburn hair was dull and tangled. She looked as though she had aged twenty years. The window was open. Below, a wolf howled. Catelyn looked over then. For a moment, she did not seem to recognize him. Finally, she blinked back the tears running down her face and sniffed to continue her work.
Lord Stark crossed the room, keeping the bed between them, and he stared down on Bran where he lay. Catelyn reached for the boy's hand, not wanting to let go. It looked like a claw. This was not the Bran he remembered. The flesh had all gone from him. His skin stretched tight over bones like sticks. Under the blanket, his legs bent in ways that made made Ned sick. The fall had shrunken him somehow. He looked half a leaf, as if the first strong wind would carry him off to his grave. Yet under the frail cage of those shattered ribs, his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath.
"When was the last time you left this room?"
"I have to take care of him."
"Maester Luwin said the most dangerous time had passed. He won't die."
"What if he's wrong?" Cat snapped at him. "Bran needs me."
"And what about Rickon? He's been asking about you. He doesn't even know what's going on-"
When the barking came through the windows, Cat cried out, "Close the windows, Ned! I can't stand it!"
He went over to the windows to calm her down, but his hand stilled when he grabbed the shutter. His eyes widened as he said, "Fire." As he stormed out of the room, Cat looked at him. "Stay here until I come back."
When he headed outside, sparks of flame flickered and leapt into the air. The horses jumped in fright and the dogs barked nonstop, while all the men shouted orders at each other to put it out. Ned was relieved that Rickon was out of danger as he stayed by Maester Luwin's side. However, he did not have enough time to turn to his son, he needed to take care of the fire before it burned all of Winterfell.
Ned went over to where the horses were to untie them to their posts, but they wouldn't stop jumping to let him and his men save them while the other soldiers carried buckets of water to put out the flames. An idea sprung to mind as he tore off his own cloak and ordered the men to do the same before he wrapped it around the horse's head, shielding its eyes away to calm it down. As soon as it relaxed, Ned unsheathed a dagger from his waist and cut the harness off that tied to the post before he grabbed the reins, pulling the horse away from danger as did the other men.
Once the fire had been contained, Ned headed back to Bran's room, and he was in shock to see his wife kneeling beside her son's bed with her hands and a dagger bloodied up, Bran's direwolf laid on Bran's bed with blood surrounding its snout and muzzle, and a man's throat torn open on the ground.
Catelyn
Catelyn had never like this godswood. She had been born a Tully, at Riverrun far to the south, on the Red Fork of the Trident. The godswood there was a garden, bright and airy, where tall redwoods spread dappled shadows across tinkling streams, birds sang from hidden nests, and the air was spicy with the scent of flowers.
The gods of Winterfell kept a different sort of wood. It was a dark, primal place, three acres of old forest untouched for ten thousand years as the gloomy castle rose around it. It smelled of moist earth and decay. No redwoods grew here. This was a wood of stubborn sentinel trees armored in gray-green needles, of mighty oaks, of ironwoods as old as the realm itself. Here thick black trunks crowded close together while twisted branches wove a dense canopy overhead and misshapen roots wrestled beneath the soil. This was a place of deep silence and brooding shadows, and the gods who lived here had no names.
After discovering a strand of blonde hair, Catelyn called a council meeting with Ned, Maester Luwin, Theon Greyjoy, and Ser Rodrick Cassel. They all stood in a small circle, waiting for their Lady to speak.
"What I am about to tell you must remain between us: I don't think Bran fell from that tower. I think he was thrown."
"The boy was always sure-footed before." Maester Luwin said to Ser Rodrick.
"Someone tried to kill him twice. Why? Why murder an innocent child? Unless he saw something that he wasn't meant to see."
It was the only theory that made sense. No matter how many times she warned him, Bran always climbed, and he never once fell. The assassin and the single strand in the tower that she found were proof that something appeared more than what met the eye.
"Saw what, my lady?" The Greyjoy boy asked.
"I don't know, but I'd stake my life that the Lannisters are involved."
"She's right." Everyone turned to Ned. "Jon Arryn believes that someone from the Small Council in the capital was responsible for Robert's death."
No one knew what to say, especially Catelyn as she stared at her husband, stunned that he kept this secret from her. If the wrong man heard Lord Arryn, he would have surely lost his head and questioned Ned. Her thoughts then reminded her of her children. They've already hurt Bran, and now her three eldest children rode off with the King's company. She didn't want to think of the worse.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Catelyn asked.
"Because I had no reason to until now. Lord Arryn only had his suspicions. I didn't want to believe them. But seeing what's happened to my son, I now see the danger for what lies ahead."
Hearing his explanation, she understood why he kept it a secret. It was a dangerous game to be played, and Catelyn only hoped that her husband would not be in any sort of trouble with the Crown for having such thoughts and traded secrets.
"Did you notice the dagger the killer used?" Ser Rodrick unsheathed the weapon, showing everyone how it shone in the sun. "It's too fine a weapon for such a man. The blade is Valyrian steel, the handle dragonbone. Someone gave it to him."
"No doubt it's the Lannisters. Only they'd use a fancy weapon to assassinate someone." Theon then turned to his lord. "They've insulted you by attacking your son. If it's war they want, then I will stand by you."
"Is there going to be a battle in the godswood?" Maester Luwin scoffed. "Too easily words of war become acts of war. We don't know the truth yet."
"And what of my children?" Catelyn asked. "My daughters and my eldest son, your heir, ride to King's Landing. You expect us to wait while they plot to seek whatever opportunity they can to destroy our House. I will bring the full might of Stark and Tully on Casterly Rock should anything happen to my children."
"No. We need the truth first before we act. We can't act recklessly." Ned reminded them.
"Then I'll ride to King's Landing."
"What?"
"There is only one person I trust there. Someone who's a member of the Small Council."
Understanding who she was speaking of, Ned said the name, "Littlefinger."
"He's known me since I was a little girl. He would never hurt my family.
"I'll send Hal with a squad of swordsmen to escort you then."
"No." Catelyn pleaded. "Too large a party attracts unwanted attention. I don't want the Lannisters to know I'm coming."
"I'll accompany you then, my lady." Ser Rodrick insisted. "The Kingsroad can be a dangerous place for a woman alone."
Ned nodded in his head in agreement. "You will leave as soon as you are ready. I leave my wife to you."
And so, Catelyn would soon go to King's Landing to discover the truth. She only hoped her old friend, Petyr, would know.
Robb
The King retired in his room at an inn on the Kingsroad, while Robb fed Greywind a piece of bacon under the table. Sansa sat with Princess Myrcella laughing in glee as Septa Mordane smiled in approval over his sister's behavior towards the princess. The Queen Regent was sitting with her youngest son, keeping a watchful eye on her son's betrothed. As for Joffrey, he stood in the sidelines with the Hound, watching over everyone. Robb didn't where Arya had gone, though. He saw her talking to the butcher's boy before he saw her sneaking off outside with him.
"You seem to be in high spirits." Robb looked to see an old man with broad shoulders and half of his teeth out sitting across from him. "We'll be in King's Landing soon."
"Lord Arryn." Robb greeted.
"You may have inherited the Tully look from your mother, but you certainly act more like your father."
"You've looked out for my father ever since my grandfather and my uncle were executed by the Mad King."
"Aerys Targaryen was a brute. I'll never forget your father's face when he condoned his son to kidnap your aunt."
Robb knew the story well. His dead aunt, Lyanna, was betrothed to Robert Baratheon before she was taken by Rhaegar Targaryen. Lord Arryn then arranged a marriage to unite House Tully with House Stark to bring down the Mad King.
"That's in the past."
"You're right. We can only look forward to the future."
They both smiled at each other before he stood from his spot and headed out the door, telling Lord Arryn. "I'll be going for a walk now. It was a pleasure meeting you, Lord Arryn."
"If you need anything at all, let me know."
A noble offer it was, and Robb was not surprised. Lord Arryn fostered Robb's father, so he probably thought of Robb as his grandson.
When Robb headed outside, the Kingsguard patrolled outside, guarding the royal family. Robb headed into the forest nearby with Greywind trotting behind him. The forest was a shelter of extended limbs, resting beneath foliage hues. Almost a billion verdant wands of pine wave in arboreal air. Robb leapt over the earth's limbs while he heard the sweet sound of the bird's song and the moving water nearby.
At that moment, Greywind barked and broke into a sprint, running ahead of him, while Robb called for him to come back. All he saw were grays and blacks moving swiftly through the branches and leaves. But Robb was determined to keep up with him. He blocked the sun away from his eyes, maneuvering past the unwanted branches away from his face.
His blue eyes soon caught a black and white tail on the ground remaining still. As he got closer, he realized it was his furry companion, sitting where the light came out by the bank of a river. Robb looked down at him as he perked his head up, so he scratched behind his ears, smiling at how proud he was of his northern friend.
The smile on his face slowly left his face when he turned to the river and saw a thousand shades of gold flowing down a young woman's back. He instantly recognized her as the Kingslayer's bastard. As Theon said, she was a real beauty, and before he knew it, he drew himself closer to the girl. He noticed that she was looking down at something, but he wasn't sure what. Whatever it was, it seemed to distract her enough from not hearing the the rustling of grass beneath his boots.
"My lady?"
She gasped in an instant and stood up immediately facing him while a book fell to the floor. Robb picked it up for her and handed it back. She still let out short huffs, staring at him.
"My lord, you should have made your presence known."
"Forgive me, but you didn't hear me when I approached you."
"Is there anything I could for you, my lord?"
"No. I was just going for a walk." She smiled sweetly at him when he asked, "So you spend your time reading?"
"Reading does more than entertain us." She traced her finger along the spine of the book. "It's more of a tool really. To help us exercise empathy."
Robb raised a skeptical brow. "Empathy? So you mean to tell me that there isn't another way for a man to exercise empathy?"
Her grin stretched to her eyes, brightening the emeralds in her iris. "Of course there are. If a man understands the story or comes from a similar background, then surely they can practice it."
She was an interesting woman, always having an answer to everything. But the way she spoke sang like a nightingale. Soft-spoken and patient to the listener. The Imp must have taught her well since he took her in as his ward. Everyone was aware of his heavy drinking and his thirst for knowledge. He must have gifted her with mountains of books to read so that she would have a mind of her own. Robb found her words fascinating, and it made her even more beautiful.
When she froze and looked ahead of him, Robb knew why her eyes widened as she stared at Greywind. She moved closer to him when Robb faced his friend. Her fingers almost brushed against his, making his breath go still.
"That's a direwolf, isn't it? Your house's sigil?"
"His name's Greywind." An idea then popped in his mind as he looked at her and asked, "Would you like to pet him?"
Her eyes snapped at him and she soon gave him a nervous smile and shook her head. "No. It's alright."
"He won't hurt you." Robb blew a high pitched whistle, letting Greywind approach them. Robb assured her that everything would be fine when she moved her foot back, so he held her hand and gave her a reassuring smile. "As long as I'm here, you'll be fine. You needn't worry."
Robb then took her wrist, slowly inching it closer to the wolf's fur. She flinched when Greywind turned his head to look at her, but Robb encouraged her to not be afraid, so she continued to move her hand until it made contact with his body. When Robb felt her relax under his touch, he glided his hand over hers. The leather fingers from his glove interlocked their hands together. Her smooth slender fingers were between Greywind and Robb's hand. When she laughed, it brought a smile on his face.
"See?" Robb said in a low voice. "If you trust him, he'll trust you."
She turned to look at him then. A warm smile spread across her face as they stared into each other's eyes, and Robb couldn't help but smile back. She certainly was different from the other Lannisters he heard about from his father's men. And he couldn't help but want more of her touch when she brought her arm back to her side.
"Well, I should get going, my lord. I should be serving Her Grace."
As she picked up her skirt, she tried to leave, but Robb caught up with her, keeping up with her pace. "I find it unfair really. You know my name yet I don't know yours."
She stopped then, facing him with a puzzling look. "You don't know who I am?"
"The Kingslayer's bastard. Everyone knows who you are."
When she looked away, Robb's first thought was that he said the wrong thing as she dismissively said, "It seems everyone knows, but it doesn't mean that I like being called that."
He smirked, seeking opportunity to know the answer. "Then give me a name so that I wouldn't have to call you that."
The corners of her mouth slowly rose, amused by his boldness. "I'm-"
"My dear cousin!" Both Robb and her turned to see King Niklas heading their way with his crown being proudly shown off on his golden head. "Shouldn't you be attending my mother?"
"I-I was going to-"
"Then why weren't you?" His tone was unkind, and Robb's lived long enough to know when a man was disappointed with someone as the King noticed the book in her hand and smirked, while she kept her head down and her hands folded like a humble servant. "Sneaking off to read again?"
"Your Grace-"
"I don't think the Queen Regent would be pleased if she found out you were here."
"I gave it to her, Your Grace." Both the King and her looked at Robb, surprised that he spoke up against the Crown. "She told me she liked to read, so I leant that book to her."
"Really?" The King raised a skeptical brow. "I didn't know you read, Stark."
"When I can, Your Grace."
Robb easily lied to the King. He considered himself an honorable man like his father, but the only times he ever lied were to protect his younger siblings from getting scolded at by their parents. To her, it was no different. He didn't think there was any harm in telling a small lie, and yet, the King couldn't take his eyes off of him.
When King Niklas turned back to his cousin, he ordered, "Go back to the inn and tend to my mother, cousin." She hurried into a quick curtsy, ready to leave until she heard him said, "And while you're at it, thank Robb Stark for the book he gave you."
She turned to Robb and bowed her head in gratitude. "Thank you, my lord."
He nodded his head, acknowledging it before she picked up the skirts of her dress and hurried off. Robb couldn't help but watch her leave. He wanted her to stay to find out who she really was. He had yet to know her name.
"I apologize for my cousin, Robb." he turned to his King as he spoke, "She always did whatever she liked, not caring what people think of her. Some might consider it poor behavior, and others think of it as a gift."
"Your cousin's a fair and interesting young woman, Your Grace."
"Hmm." the King mused himself. "Most men certainly think so. Your evident of it."
It wasn't surprising to hear how countless of men thought favorably of her. She was an intelligent woman with a gentle heart. Any man would envy to have a woman like that by his side.
"I never had the chance to tell you that I'm sorry for taking you from your homeland." Robb stared at the King as he continued, "It must be difficult for you to be away from it all to come with me to the capital and serve your King."
"It is difficult, Your Grace. But I hope to make my House proud."
"Well, that obviously depends on you and the choices you make. You're Eddard Stark's eldest son, his heir. Soon you'll be Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North." The clanking of armor caught wind of their attention, so they looked to see a few members of the Kingsguard as the King turned to them asked, "What news?"
"My King, Prince Joffrey's been attacked. Your mother requests for you to return to the inn to deliver a sentence."
With a huff, the King willingly went with his soldiers while Robb followed behind him.
Niklas
When they reached the inn, a crowd of soldiers moved out of the way to make way for the King. Niklas eyes immediately went to Joffrey standing beside his mother. His arm wrapped in gauze and he winced every time he moved it, so he cradled it. Then there were the two Stark girls standing in front of the Queen Regent with a young boy with red hair and a small red line tracing over his cheek. Any fool knew it was blood.
"What's happened that you needed me so urgently, mother?" Niklas addressed his mother, yet he stared at his brother fidgeting with his arm, amused by his behavior. "What's this I hear about the prince being attacked?"
"That girl and that butcher's boy attacked your brother, Your Grace. That animal of hers nearly tore his arm off."
"That's not true!" the youngest Stark girl argued. "She just...bit him a little. He was hurting Mycah."
Niklas looked over at the butcher's boy, and understood the situation. Joffrey's always been difficult. Stubborn as he was, Niklas was relieved that the crown was not on his head instead. He could already imagine what Joffrey would do without thinking of the consequences.
"Joff told me what happened. You and that boy beat him with clubs while you set your wolf on him."
"That's not what happened!"
"Yes, it is!" Joffrey argued back. "They all attacked me and she threw my sword in the river."
"Liar!"
"Shut up!"
"Enough!" Niklas was a patient man, but this was a ridiculous incident, so it looked like that Niklas would have to settle it himself. "I want to hear from the butcher's boy. Let's hear his testimony."
As the boy stepped forward to speak, he casted his eyes down, afraid to look at his own King in the eye, while he heard Joffrey speak up, "You're going to listen to him?"
Niklas held his callous tongue when he faced Joffrey, thankful that he did not curse at him as he reminded his infuriating brother, "When will you learn that there are always three sides to every story, dear brother: Her truth, your truth, and his truth. Don't interrupt me again when I am questioning someone else under my authority, do you understand?"
Joffrey pressed his lips, stunned by his brother's tone. Joffrey may have been ruthless and foolish, but he feared his brother, and Niklas was proud of it. He always knew what to say to shut his brother up from speaking as he turned back to face the butcher's boy.
"Now, tell all and tell it true, boy."
He looked at Joffrey, unsure to speak at first as Joffrey glared at him, but when he looked back at his King, he stared into those cold, terrifying eyes that demanded the truth, and so he did, "She asked me to play with sticks, Your Grace. The prince then came and swung his sword at us at least five times. And then I fled."
"Hmph." Niklas mused himself. "Looks like you got out with your life."
As Niklas thought of his decision, he narrowed his eyes at Robb Stark when he heard him address his King, "Your Grace, our direwolves will defend their owners. They would never attack without reason."
"It appears so."
There was no question how loyal the beasts were to their masters. It was expected of them to be faithful to Lord Stark's children. They are the sigil of the House after all. However, they were still beasts that needed to be tamed. And as he looked back at the gauze around Joffrey's arm, he couldn't help but feel how weak he made his family, so Niklas needed to fix it. He wasn't going to allow one mistake set back his reign on one idiot of a brother.
A wicked grin then crept up his face as he turned to two of his men and ordered them, "Pin the boy to the wall with his face against the wood."
"Your Grace!"
The butcher's boy pleaded and looked up at his King for sympathy as he watched him grab a whip from a guard after he ordered him to, while he heard Robb stepping forward to face him, challenging him head to head. "He's just a boy."
"Who will grow to be a man, mind you. Someone must pay for my brother's injury. As King, these are difficult choices to make, but they are necessary."
He knew his mother gave him a satisfied smirk as did Joffrey as they watched Niklas facing off Robb Stark. "Please show mercy to him."
"Mercy? Did the Mad King show mercy to your grandfather and uncle, or did Rhaegar Targaryen show mercy to your aunt before he cut her throat?" When Robb glared at him, a wicked idea popped in Niklas's head as he said, "We all make our choices, Stark. You beg me to choose mercy for a boy you don't know while my brother bears the scars from one of your family's wolf. The more obvious choice would be to punish your sister, but I won't do that, because I have more respect over your House than you know."
It was a partial truth. Niklas may not favor the North. However, he does respect Eddard Stark to a degree for being an honorable man. But that wasn't the only reason. Niklas also did not want to offend the North by torturing the girl. With their short tempers and their impudence towards the South gave Niklas more of a reason to teach them a lesson, and he will make sure of it through the heir to Winterfell.
"Five times the prince swung at him. All missed. And five lashes is what he'll receive."
Robb's eyes widened when he saw his King extending the whip out to him as he shook his head. "No. I won't do it."
"I told you you must bear the responsibilities. If you don't do this, how can I depend on you to serve me?"
"You can't force me to torture a poor boy, Your Grace."
Robb was fighting fire with fire, and Niklas knew it, so he leaned in and stared at him coldly with that devilish smirk of his as he warned him of the consequences, "If you don't do it, then I personally will myself. And I won't give five lashes but twenty."
One look in his dead eyes, and Niklas knew he had him. Robb Stark took the whip from his hand, while Niklas gestured to the boy. He couldn't stand the boy's wailing, but then again, hearing the sweet sound of the leather tearing into his skin sent ripples of joy through the King's veins. The boy could hardly stand already after being lashed once, so the guards held him still, while the thick red line delved deep into his back with traces of blood oozing down to his trousers.
The second hit came, and Niklas saw in the corner of his eye that his betrothed flinched. She seemed like a stupid, naive girl, only wanting to dance and sing hymns. He'll have to teach her of the ways of the world by being more firm with her, and Niklas was looking forward to it.
When the third lashing came, the butcher's boy yelped in pain and nearly fell to the floor, while Robb's youngest sister cried out, "Stop it!"
"Stay out of it, girl."
Niklas voiced was laced with venom as he stared at the girl coldly, forcing her to hold her tongue as she looked back to watch her brother.
As soon as the fourth hit came, Niklas looked back at his mother and Joffrey, seeing the Lannister smug grins on their faces. Finally, the fifth wave came, and Niklas didn't want to miss it as the stinging sensation coursed through the boy's back. The guards let him go, not caring that he fell to the floor, clutching his shirt and weeping like a sobbing boy. When Robb Stark looked back at his King, Niklas gave him a satisfied smirk, watching the few huffs of breath leave the northerner's mouth as the entire room grew silent.
"Are you satisfied?"
Robb held the whip caked in blood as he threw it on the ground in front of his King's feet. "Very."
Niklas's smirk grew even further, seeing Robb's glare and brooding manner before he walked out of the inn with his guards. Robb Stark was simply a pawn in the nest Niklas was weaving, and he will surely remind him of it whenever he will be defiant towards his King when they are in the capital.
Here's the next chapter, everyone! I hope you enjoyed it. Looks like we may have another Joffrey or something worse on our hands. Please let me know what you think so far or if you have any questions. Stay tuned for more chapters!