Howland Reed arrived at Winterfell with not just the bones of Lyanna Stark and Ned Stark, but a wailing babe in his arms. He was met on arrival by Benjen and Maester Luwin, and he immediately asked to speak to Benjen alone. The maester made a gesture to leave, his eyes inspecting the now-quiet babe swaddled in thick blankets, its face barely visible.
"One of the kitchen maids has just given birth to a little girl not two days ago. She would have some milk to give your poor child. He -it is a boy, is it not? - must be hungry," Luwin said. The maester had assumed that the babe was Howland's, a bastard, perhaps, but then it was not his place to judge.
Would that be a wiser course? Howland wondered. To pretend that the child was his own, to bring him home to Greywater Watch and raise the boy as a crannogman. It might even be safer for the boy in the long run.
But that was not what Ned Stark had promised his sister the Lady Lyanna on her deathbed. "Promise me, Ned. Promise me you will raise him as your own son, and no one will ever know the truth of his parentage. Not even him."
Howland understood her reasons. Robert Baratheon would not hesitate to kill the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen. Rhaegar's two children with Elia Martell had been cruelly slayed, along with their mother.
Ned Stark had promised. Had promised his sister while blood and life were leaking from his own chest, courtesy of Arthur Dayne's sword. Dayne himself was already dead, Ned's sword Ice buried on his neck. Howland Reed was surrounded by corpses, and a dying man determined still to keep his promise.
"Jon. The babe is to be named Jon, after Jon Arryn. Take him … take … Winterfell. My son …"
Ned Stark was silenced forever, just like his sister.
Jon started wailing. Snow. He would have to be Jon Snow, bastard son of Eddard Stark. Who was the mother? The people at Winterfell would want to know. Not a whore or a tavern wench, Howland decided, no one would believe that of Ned Stark. A village woman Ned Stark met during the war who died in childbirth. The woman had no family of her own, so poor Jon Snow was now an orphan with no one to care for him except his father's family.
Benjen Stark would not ask too many questions, Howland believed. He was only fifteen, barely a man, and he had worshiped his brothers Brandon and Ned. He would be glad to care for Ned's son, even a bastard. Lady Stark, on the other hand …
How would Lady Stark react to the presence of her dead husband's bastard son at Winterfell? Might she not look on the boy resentfully, as a reminder of her husband's infidelity? Or perhaps suspecting Jon Snow to be a danger to her own son's inheritance? What kind of life was awaiting Jon Snow, with a resentful and suspicious Lady of Winterfell? Not a pleasant one, Howland feared.
Howland wondered why Ned Stark had not thought of these things when he made the promise to his sister.
She was dying, and desperate. It would have been cruel for her brother to deny her last request. And Lord Stark himself was gravely wounded at the time, Howland admonished himself. It was easy enough to quibble and second-guess a decision later, in the peace and comfort of non-desperation, but in Ned Stark's place, Howland suspected he would have done the same thing.
He was making his way to Winterfell when he heard the news. Lady Stark was Lady Stark no more. She was Lady Baratheon now. The king had wed her to his own brother, so he could appoint the brother as Lord Protector of the North. A Baratheon at Winterfell. That could prove to be more dangerous to Jon Snow's fate than a resentful stepmother. Stannis Baratheon was only one step away from Robert Baratheon, the greatest danger to Rhaegar Targaryen's son.
And Stannis Baratheon was already saddled with Ned Stark's trueborn son Robb Stark. How would he feel about raising yet another one of Ned Stark's son, a bastard at that? Everything that Howland had heard about the man convinced him that Lord Stannis would not be graceful or glad at all, far from it.
Howland started to consider other paths. Could he possibly pass off Jon Snow as Brandon Stark's bastard son? Lady Baratheon had been betrothed to Brandon Stark before his untimely death, but a betrothal was not the same as a marriage. And Brandon Stark had been notorious for his womanizing, unlike his brother Ned. It would come as no surprise to anyone that Brandon had fathered a bastard, or even a number of them.
But Brandon Stark had died more than a year ago, at the start of the rebellion. And a dead man could not father a child. Howland stared at the sleeping face of the babe. Was there any way to pass him off as an older babe, someone who could have been fathered by Brandon right before his death? But that would open up a lot of fronts for questioning and suspicion. How did Howland end up with Brandon Stark's bastard? Howland Reed had fought alongside Ned Stark in the war, and had almost nothing to do with Brandon Stark at all.
Howland was still uncertain regarding the best course of action to take when he arrived at Winterfell. To his great relief, Lord and Lady Baratheon were still on their way to Winterfell from King's Landing, so his explanation would only have to satisfy Benjen Stark.
"Take him to Winterfell as my son," Ned Stark had said with his dying breath. Did that mean even Benjen Stark must not be told the truth about Jon Snow's parentage? Howland tried to decide as Ned Stark would have decided, were he still alive. Ned would want to shield his brother from danger, Howland believed. Knowing the truth would put Benjen Stark in harm's way. And he was the last of the Starks, along with his two nephews.
So Howland told Benjen the story Ned had wanted him to tell, embellished with details Ned had not had time to consider. Benjen's expression was disbelieving at first. "Ned, bedding another woman after he was wed? He would never dishonor his marriage vows in that way. Never."
"War does strange things to men, Benjen," Howland replied. "And remember, your brother only met his lady wife once, at their wedding. He spent one night with her and then left to fight more battles. He never saw her again. It could be lonely for a man, on the road, seeing dead bodies all around you, contemplating your own mortality. It is not always a question of lust. A woman's comfort … it is priceless. And it is not for other people to judge."
Benjen's face turned red, not in anger but embarrassment. "I am not judging my brother. How could I, when he died fighting to save our sister while I stayed here in the comfort and safety of Winterfell."
"You were here on your brother's order, on the order of the Lord of Winterfell to defend the north," Howland said.
"But the war never came to the north."
"It could have. And what was that saying – there must always be a Stark –"
"-in Winterfell," Benjen continued.
"When are Lord and Lady Baratheon due to arrive?" Howland asked
"Lord Stannis and Lady Catelyn, they are to be called that, not Lord Baratheon and Lady Baratheon. Cat wrote that in her last letter to me before leaving King's Landing," Benjen replied.
Wise, very wise indeed, Howland thought. Why remind the northmen constantly that Winterfell was now ruled by a southern lord with his southern lady wife? Even if it was only temporary until Ned Stark's heir came of age. And even if the southern lady wife was Ned Stark's widow. Northmen were a proud and prickly bunch, suspicious of outsiders. Lord Stannis would have an uphill battle to climb.
Cat, Benjen had called his sister-in-law. Were they close? Perhaps Benjen could predict how Lady Catelyn would react upon finding her dead husband's bastard at Winterfell.
"Does Lady Catelyn write to you often?" Howland asked.
"She did, during the war," Benjen said.
"How do you think she would feel about her husband's bastard being raised at Winterfell, alongside her own son?"
Benjen's face paled. "But we can't send him away! He's Ned's son, a Stark in blood if not in name."
"Perhaps the boy would be safer at Greywater Watch with me," Howland said.
"That is very kind of you, and you have done so much for us already, I scarcely know how to repay you. But I must honor Ned's last request. His son must be raised at Winterfell."
"Things could be difficult for Jon, as he grows older. I don't imagine Lady Catelyn would look too kindly on her husband's bastard. Lord Stannis too," Howland warned.
"Cat is very kind and generous," Benjen disagreed. "I'm sure she would …"
Suddenly Benjen did not look so certain any longer.
"She would be hurt. Greatly so. She had come to respect Ned, even love him, she wrote in her letters," Benjen said quietly.
"Greywater Watch –"
"No! Jon must be raised at Winterfell, as Ned wanted. We'll tell everyone he's my son," Benjen said firmly.
Howland was incredulous. "Your son? You are scarcely more than a child yourself. Who would believe it?"
"I am fifteen now, which would make me fourteen years of age when Jon was conceived. It was my first time; she was kind and gentle, and I wanted to do the right thing for our child. People would believe that. After all, Brandon lost his virginity at thirteen."
"But you are not Brandon," Howland protested. "And a bastard living under the same roof as you will make marriage plans more difficult. Have you thought of that, Benjen? You are still young, your whole life is ahead of you."
"I have no plans for marriage," Benjen replied.
"You will, one day, boy. Count on it."
"Once Lord Stannis, Lady Catelyn and Robb have settled down in Winterfell, I will be going to the Wall to join the Night's Watch," Benjen said, looking suddenly years and years older than his age.
Howland was amazed. "The Night's Watch? Why?"
"House Stark has always sent at least one son to be a Black Brother throughout the ages. It is our duty, and a long-standing tradition."
"But you are the last of your brothers now. Surely the Night's Watch does not expect you to honor that tradition still. What of the Stark line, if you take the oath and father no children?"
"Robb will continue the Stark name," Benjen said. He frowned, hesitated for a long while, before finally saying," I do not wish to be used as a pawn by men lusting for power. There have been enough deaths and enough bloodsheds already. Lord Stannis' reign as Lord Protector of the North would go more smoothly if I am not at Winterfell."
With that ominous note, Benjen left to search for the nephew he had claimed as his own son. Howland sighed. The north had lost many good men during the war, but all of them had died fighting battles in the south. But now the north itself could be the site of the battle, of the bloodshed.
Robert Baratheon is a fool, Howland thought, not for the first time. The king had claimed a great and abiding friendship with Ned Stark, yet he still knew nothing of the north.