Winterfell
When the raven came North with the news of Jon Arryn's death Ned Stark was devastated. He had lost a father once and with this news, he had lost another. He sat in the Godswood, his sword Ice across his knees. His heart had already been heavy that day. The fourth deserter in the past year he had to part from this world had lost his head by Neds hand. His brother on the Wall had sent ravens that the Wilding had increased in their raids on the wall. He was cleansing his blade in the pool in front of the Heart Tree. He was so lost in thought he had not noticed his son come upon him.
"Father." Robb's voice startled him.
"What is it son?" Ned asked.
"It was another letter, my lord. From Kings Landing." Robb's voice was calm, underlying his true feelings.
Ned had been waiting for a letter from his sister for some time now. She knew what Jon had meant to him. The man might have raised his banners against the old King, but he had done it to protect the realm.
"Good tidings, I hope?" He moved the stone against his blade, taking comfort in the ritual of it.
"She sends her regrets for your loss. But father, she also said she and the king were on their way here." Robb took a step closer to him.
Ned put the sword on his knees and hung his head. It had been almost twenty years since his sister had stepped foot in the North. Once the war was over, she stayed with her husband to piece the country back together. Now she was on her way here, the royal court with her.
"There is more. Not only is the king and court coming, but also the rest of the heads of all the major houses. The Tyrell's, Lannister's, Martell's, Greyjoy's, Baratheon's, Uncle Edmeur and Aunt Lysa as well. Mother is sending ravens to her siblings. We do not know why they come, but they are on their way. Mother suspects they will all be here in a fortnight." Robb spoke fast; as if he said it in a rush, it would not shock his father so much.
Ned sheathed the blade and stood, holding the ancient weapon out to his son. He walked to the castle without a word to his son. He knew that he would be following. He had to speak to his Lady Wife. They had much to discuss. Eddard thought over all the reasons for the entire ruling class of Westeros to his door.
He let his mind track to the past. At the end of the war, the great families had tried to shore up alliances the best way they could. The Lannister's had wed their only daughter to Robert, thinking the man would amount to something. In his own way, he had. The crown had let him retain the Stormlands. Before the battle of the Trident Ned had married his brothers betrothed and her sister married Jon. The Tyrell's had no one of marriageable age to offer to the new map of the country and the Dornish Men already had a member of their family on the throne. The Iron Islands had stayed out of the fray, so they did not have any stake to claim in the new order of things. Now all the families had children, of marriageable age. They were all convincing at Winterfell to argue over who married whom, Ned knew. Things might have appeared good for the kingdom, but there was unrest.
He tried to think of the alliances that would be foraged with this meeting of the families, but he came to no conclusions. He entered the courtyard of his keep and already saw a flurry of activity. The stables were being mucked and washed out, the forge was being organized and the smith was scolding his apprentices into the proper way of doing things. The kitchen maidens were securing around from the kitchen with copper pots that were quickly deposited them into large vats of boiling water.
His Lady Wife stood on the steps of the door, watching the work that was going on around her, a long sheet of parchment in her hand. When she saw him, she smiled at him. Catelyn walked down the step towards him and took a deep breath.
"What is going on here?" He asked when he reached her.
"Spring cleaning." She said matter of flatly.
He gave her a warm smile and pulled her into his arms. After 20 years of marriage, he still was in ah of her. She was smart, kind and loving. She had given him five children. He kissed her cheek and touched her slight sell of her belly and his smile grew at the sight of the sixth.
"Do not work to hard, beloved. I do not want you or the babe to be in danger over this mess." He spoke with his lips close to her ear.
"I will only work as hard as then good people around me." She said with a tired smile.
"Hear me now!" His voice boomed around the courtyard. "My wife is tired and will not stop until you good people do as well. As your lord I command you all to retire from your tasks until the morrow so my good wife will rest as well."
Cat swatted his arm and watched in mock horror as the people around them took up a pleased cheer and stopped in their tasks. It still amazed her how the small folk of Winterfell reacted to her husband. When she first came to Winterfell as a scared girl of sixteen with a baby growing inside her, she had not seen the warmth that these strange Northerners could offer. Once she learned it was her coolness that caused them to keep their distance from her, she had warmed up to them and had been accepted by them all.
"How do you do that?" Robb asked as he walked up the steps to stand by his parents.
Ned was silent for a moment, trying to think of the right way to answer his son. He had never been groomed to govern. He had been groomed to be one of his houses banner men. He was all ready to leap into that life. Marry a girl from a good house, but not one of the great houses. That all changed when the Mad King had murdered his father and brother. He had always been a serious youth, but he had been kind where his elder brother had been stern. When Brandon had been to busy to talk with his people Ned had always had an open door policy. The people had loved him, still did.
"One of the perks of being a second son." He looked at his sons face. "Brandon was their Lord, they loved him, but I was got to be their friend. When they could not talk to him, they talked to me. I helped them. Not that the heir doesn't help them, but you are the one who governs. Think of the way the small folk treat Arya or Rickon?"
"They played with them as children and now they are still friends with them. They are always working wither, either in the fields or in their homes. They do love them, don't they?" He looked at his parents, his eyes wide. "More than me?"
Catelyn launched softly and touched her son's hand. She knew what it was like to be the eldest child of a Great House. She had been groomed for being the wife of a high lord. She knew what her son was feeling. She had been to far removed from the people of the Riverlands to let them love her because everyone knew she was not to stay.
"They love you Robb. But from afar. You are the heir of Winterfell. It is your job to think of everyone as a whole. You have siblings to connect with the people." She patted his arm and smiled at her son.
"Now dear, what are we going to do about this Southern invasion?" Ned asked his wife.
"We do what we have to do; we prepare and open the castles to everyone. In one way or another most of these people are family or they will be. Now let's go and inform the children of the arrival of the Court and Leading Families." She kept the smile on her face but she knew in her heart this upcoming visit would alter all their lives.
The three made their way to the Great Door to the castle. The Hall was warm, thanks to the thermal heat the castle was built on. They were all glad for the heat in the castle. The Stark words Winter Is Coming hung over them all. The summer was coming to a close, they all knew it. The summer snows were becoming more frequently. Ned held out his hand for his sword for his son to hand it to him. His children were all eager to hold his family sword at every opportunity they got. If one of his other children, especially his daughter Arya saw Robb with it, he knew there would be hell to pay.
"Mother!" Sansa shouted from the dais that the Great Hall held.
She ran to them, her skirts held in her hand. Try as she might to be the perfect lady at all times, in moments of great excitement her suppressed wolf blood showed itself. At eighteen, she had been of age to marry form some time now. They had kept her close, taking none offers for her hand under consideration when any of the families of the Northern families had made offers. They had done the same for Robb as well when offers of daughters had started to flow to them when he reached the age of sixteen. Both Ned and Cat had withheld any acceptance to wed their children, both being secret romantics themselves. Their marriage had been an end to a treaty between their fathers, they wanted a union of Tully and Stark. It was Brandon Stark who Catelyn Tully was to wed, but apron his death Ned had wed his brothers betrothed. They had been lucky. Upon first sight, they knew they were the ones for the other. They both wanted their children to know love.
"Mother," a breathless Sansa gasped once she reached them, the Great Hall was large. "Is it true, what the servants say? The King is on his way here?"
"Yes sweeting. The entire realm appears to be bearing down on us it seems." Lady Stark answered her daughter.
"So it is true. Oh mother, what does this mean?" Sansa asked.
"Sansa Minis Stark, please tell me younger not gossiping, again!" Ned said in mock horror.
"But father, it isn't gossip when it is true!" She smiled sweetly at her father, making sure to shift so the light illuminated her from behind. She was always good at knowing how to look innocent.
"Darling girl, what are we to do with you?" Ned asked, chuckling at her and thinking of how she looked just like her mother.
"Well father, you could send her out to the small folks holds and have her hand out the baskets for the poor all day. It would be good hard work, an honest day's work." Arya said as she entered behind them.
They all turned and looked behind them to the third Stark child of the group. Arya was as tall as her sister, and as slim. While the rest of the brood had variations of the Tully red hair, hers was the true black of the Starks. She was clad in breeches and a long tunic over a linen long sleeved shirt. She had, Catelyn noted, bound her ever expanding chest down almost flat again. At seventeen she was beginning to look the part of a woman. Unlike her sister, Arya wanted to deny the fact, while her sister reveled in it.
"That would be something." Robb spoke. He was always playing peace keeper between the two. "Sansa wearing your clothing and riding your horse, delivering the baskets. And you could stay here, wear a dress and do your hair and make them!"
Everyone looked appalled at the idea for a moment. Then Lady Stark gave a small laugh. The tension flew out of everyone in the room. Ned looked at his son and smiled his thanks.
"Arya, why don't you go change and meet us all in the informal family dining room." Catelyn said to her child.
"Do I have to wear a dress?" Arya asked with a raised eyebrow.
"It is a family dinner Arya. It may be informal, but we are all meeting as a family. We have thing's to discuss. A dress, not fancy, but a dress is mandatory for this meal." Cat kept her voice stern. Her daughter scowled, but did not complain. She started to walk out of the room, deeper into the castle to the stairs that lead to the living quarters of the family. When she was half way through the room, she turned back to them.
"Sansa come help me pick out a dress. I don't want to look like an idiot again." Arya was smiling at her sister, their anger from a moment ago forgotten.
"Let's go Horserace. I'm sure we can find a beauty under all that coarseness." Sansa said as she walked to Arya.
"You should talk Sansa. You look like a blob of gore in that dress with your hair." Arya snapped back. Once Sansa was close to her, she linked her arm around her sister and Arya slid her arm around Sansa in return. They walked out of the room laughing together.
Ned smiles at his two girls. Both tall, like him, one raven-haired the other red haired. They might bicker and fight, but deep down they loved one another. Watching him, he remembered the times he had stayed with his sister and Queen Ella. In many ways, his girls reminded him of their relationship. Closer than friends, true sisters.
"They might be mean to each other, but they could not be closer or better friends." His wife said, sneaking up behind him, pressing her swollen belly against his back. The baby kicked him, in agreement with his mother.
"My son agrees with you." Ned spoke.
"Your son? I think it is a girl. Now let us go get the other children. I am sure Rickon will have to be forced to bathe. He is helping in the smithy today. Bran will need to be forced from the library. " She kissed her husband and walked away from him.
"Father, could I please go and talk to Jory? He was going to show me a new way to work with the new sword from across the Narrow Sea." Robb was in a hurry to go work on the new weapon.
"You have half an hour son. Now hurry before your mother realizes you have gone." Ned spoke softly to his son. The young man slowly walked out the doors of the Great Hall.
Ned walked through the halls of his home. He had to return Ice to the locked trunk he kept it in unless he was administering the King's Justice. Walking his halls he thought back to all the years since he has seen his sister.
They had written letters and sent ravens to each other over the past twenty years. They had given each other gifts, mostly for each other's children. He had come to think of Rhaegar and Elia's children as his own flesh and blood based on the way his sister spoke of them in her letters.
When he got to his private study, he took his keys and opened the trunk that housed Ice. Before he placed the sword that had been in the family since they were the Kings of the North he took out a simple oak box. He placed the Valyrian Steal sword inside the trunk and closed the lid.
Ned walked the box over to his desk. It was scattered with papers dealing with the ruling of such a large country. On the top of the pile was the note that the raven had brought as well as a letter. He knew Lyanna's handwriting on site. But under his sisters untidy scroll was one he knew just as well, Queen Elia's.
Ned, I wish to convey my deepest sympathy over the death of Jon Arryn. We all know he was like a father to you. He was like a second father to me as well. He was the best Hand we had ever known. The loss hangs heavy on all our hearts.
I know that it has been twenty years since the last time we saw one another and my family and I wish to make a trip home, to Winterfell. Your niece and nephews wish to see the place where the First Men blood still rules. As I write this, we prepaid to depart Kings Landing. We will see you soon my dearest brother. I have tried to warn my Southern family of the conditions of the North, but they do not understand the wild beauty of the place. Time will tell what they think of the place I hold in my heart of hearts as home, even after all these years.
Your loving sister Lyanna
Her words were a balm to his corroded soul over the death of his second father. He knew that the seven kingdoms had prospered between the calm head of Elia and Jon and the passionate head of the king and the wild heart of his beloved sister. He looked to the note from Elia. He also had many letters from her and the King as well.
Ned, I know Lya has written you and has offered our sympathies. We loved him as well. We can all share on our sorrows over his passing. I know your dear sister has told you of our upcoming trip to Winterfell, so you must know that when we get there I have many things I wish to tell you, things that I do not wish to put to pen. I hope you will councils me the way Jon had once done.
I fear that our arrival will participate a mass migration of all the great houses upon your door. All the children of our allies and our families are yet unwed. I know that we all need to make decisions and make them soon. I believe, and Rhaegar as well, that the families will flock to you in the hope that we can settle once and for all who will marry whom. Know that was not the intention of my family when we planned this trip. We have been able to go to my family home in Dorne many times in the past, but we never have been able to go to the house that raised Lyanna. Jon is most eager to see Winterfell. Who would have known that his nickname would have not only been a link to the North, but to a man who was a grandfather to all my children.
I cannot wait to see you again, brother. It has been far to long and we have much to discuss.
Elia.
Ned felt a shudder ripple through his body. He knew Elia from her letters. She was always optimistic and light. Now her words did nothing but send a shudder down his spine. What did she have to say that could not be put to pen? Time would only tell.
Xxxxxxxxxxx
Arya sat on her bed while Sansa shuffled in her wardrobe. She had kept silent almost the entire time, knowing his sister could not contain herself and she would tell her everything about why the whole of Winterfell was in a state of excitement and worry. After Sansa had taken a simple homespun grey dress out and looked at it and Arya for the fifth time she finally nodded her head, here red braided slipping over her shoulder.
"This one. It will do for a family dinner. But when the King and the court come you will have to dress like the Lady mother has raised you to be, not the Wildling you are." Sansa said to her.
Arya took the dress and proceeded to take off her tunic. She left the long sleeved shirt on and slipped her breached down her long legs. She loved wearing her breaches but there was a freedom in a skirt that pants did not offer. If she could do everything she could do in a dress that she could do the pants, she would wear a dress every day. But she would never admit that to anyone, especially Sansa. Once she shimmed into the dress and turned her back so her sister could lace her into it she sank back down to the floor.
"Arya, where did you get this one?" Sansa asked pulling out a dress of the brightest green wool she had ever seen. She ran the fabric between her fingers, feeling the smoothness of the weave.
"Mother made it for me." Arya said with a shrug.
"But where did you get the fabric?" Sansa demanded. She wanted a dress made from this wool herself.
"Where do you think I got it?"
"You weaved this?" Sansa's face reddened in jealousy. Arya did not reply.
Sansa turned her back away from her sister as she examined the fabric closer. Sansa now saw that twined with the green there was gold and blue and red, so subtle it was difficult to see unless the dress was closely inspected.
Weaving was the one thing Sansa had never been able to master. Vanity caused her downfall. By the age of seven, she had mastered embroidery and sewing. She had been praised for her skills with a needle. Her old septa had decided that it was time to test the young girl and brought in a spinning wheel into the room they had their studies in. Sansa had watched, as the large wad of raw material, cotton at the time, had become a thin strand of thread as the woman sat before the wheel. She had been spellbound, watching as it became the thin strings she used to sew with. When she felt she had sufficient idea in the technicians she sat before the wheel and tried to spin. They gave her a basket of wool to make into yarn, an easier task then cotton thread.
Her first hardship came from the constant motion of both her hands and feet being used to make the thread. She could not get them to work together. Her yarn came out uneven and had large clumps in it. She worked all day at the wheel and by the time her mother had come at the end of the day to inquire of her daughter's progress Sansa was in tears.
"Mother I tried to spin the way the servant girl had done." She cried as her days work had been displayed. It was the first task she had ever failed at. "This wheel wouldn't spin for me."
"I don't think it looked that hard." Arya had said. Her miserable embroidery sat in its hoop across their mothers lap. "It looks more fun than stitching."
"If you think you could do better Horse Face than you try it!" Sansa had yelled. The older women had been shocked by her outburst and started to reprimand her, but before they could, Arya walked over to the wheel and set it spinning.
The room watched in amazement as the six year old worked the spinning wheel. Arya was consumed in her task. A light shined in her eyes as she worked her small foot on the peddle and her hands smoothed the course wool into workable thread. It was fine and thin, usable for any sewing. She sat there and the large basket dwindled away before their eyes. When it was empty, only twenty minutes since she had sat down to her task she looked over at her sister and smiled.
"See. I told you it wasn't that hard."
Sansa had burst into tears. She had never known humiliation in any capacity before, but that day she learned it. Their mother decided that both girls would learn to weave. Sansa had to use yarn spun by another while Arya used her own woolen yarn to weave. After a week of instruction, they were given a lap loom to use.
Again, Sansa tried, but by the end of the first day, she wept again in frustrated defeat. Her hands, soft as velvet and smooth as silk, had become red and angry with blisters.
"I will not continue." She shouted, the lap loom spilling from her as she stood and ran from the room. She had run to her brother Robb and told him of her troubles. Being nine and wise in ways she could not yet understand he nada sat with her in the Godswood until she had wept and the sky turned dark.
"Sansa." He finally said from beside her, he had not spoken until she had quieted. "You told me that Septa Modane had told you weaving and spinning was a task that only the most capable minded were able to do. You have many strength sister, but this is not one of them. It doesn't make you less, just better suited for different work."
"Then why can Arya, still a child, do it so well. I excel at everything, except sums. Why did she have to be good at the one thing I am not?" She asked angrily.
"She probably thinks the same thing about you. Think of all the things she cannot do that you have already mastered. Do you think she will be able to make a garment from the things she weaves? Will she be able to use the threads she spins? She will never be able to. Instead of thinking of her as a rival, think of her as your partner. She will make the fabrics and thread and you will transform them from nothing into something." His words stilled her retort on her lips.
"But if I am not good at this than I am not worthy of the materials I use. Mother always says we need to value everything we touch, understand how it is created. She says next year we will go learn with cook about food and how it is made so we have a better value for what we eat. How can I make beautiful things if I can't make the raw goods to make them with?" Sansa was sure she had stumped her oh so cleaver brother. But she had underestimated him.
"Father always said the reason he and mother have so many children is because we are to work together. Sansa you were given a gift, but so was Arya. Work together and you can do great things." Nine-year-old Robb had his serious face on as he spoke. Sansa sat and thought about what he had said.
"I guess you're right." She took a square linen out and wiped her face. They walked back to the castle. Sansa found her mother and sister. Arya was in tears, crying with her face hidden in her mother's skirts.
Arya never cried. Not when they worked in the practice yard with Jerry and the other children and she was smacked with a wooden sword. Their father wanted all his children, even the girls to know how to use them. He said women might not always fight, but a sword will always cut to kill, so they better know how to use one. Sansa was mot half bad. Arya was better. Arya had not when she got her foot stepped on by her pony the week before. Sansa knew she had truly hurt her sister.
"Arya I'm sorry I was so bad to you. I did not realize I could not be good at everything. I do now. And I think we should work together." Sansa had said when she was in front of her mother and weeping sister.
Arya had lifted her head and looked at her sister. Her famous anger was shining through her eyes. Sansa knew she had messed up, and big time.
"Arya, your sister has apologized. What do you say?" Their mother asked in her soothing voice.
"I say I think that Sansa will never learn to weave. If she ever wants to work with me, she can't be a big prat. If she does this again I'll dye her hair green in her sleep." Arya told her mother.
For the next eleven years, they worked together. Arya would make the fabrics and the thread while Sansa made clothing and other things. Most of the things they made they gave to the people living around their castle. The women in their kitchen had the best dresses any servants could own. When a child was born, they made gifts for the children. They had become a team. Closer then they had thought when they were children. So close that they shared everything.
One month ago, Arya had been in a bad mood and destroyed her loom with a broad sword. Sansa had been horrified. The loom was something Arya loved above all else. When her parents had demanded to know why she had done it, Arya said that it was not working properly and needed to work on the design. She had gone in with Bran into a room and started working.
"How long has it been finished? And why didn't you tell me? Arya this is the best thing you have ever made." Sansa said in a whisper.
"You weren't supposed to know about it. It was supposed to be a surprise for your name day." Arya smiled at her sister.
"This is for me?" Sansa asked.
"Yeah. Mother was going to embroider it for you." Arya stood now and walked close to her.
"Arya this is to much. How long did it take you to make?" Sansa asked.
"Two weeks." Arya shrugged. "It's no big deal. I think you should wear it when out Royal family members arrive."
"How do you know about that!" Sansa asked in shock.
Arya smiled, took the dress and placed it back in her wardrobe. She walked to her door and opened it. Sansa walked to her and looped her arm in her sisters. They walked down the halls to the room they would be eating in. Arya wanted to tell her sister how she found out about the king and queens coming for a visit.
"I found out about the visit from a rider that came into the small hold ten miles from here. The farmer and the wife just had a baby and I was taking them a basket. The rider was a trader on his way from down the Kings Road. Father thinks they will be here in a fortnight but from what the trader said they will be here in seven days." Arya smirked. She had more to confide. "And they are not alone."
Sansa laughed. She knew that the court would be coming with them, and she told her sister that.
"No, not just people from court. There were Banners with them. Not just the Three Headed Dragon. There was Lions, Roses, Eagles, and Stags. Krakens, a Heart with a Spear. He even told of a number of Riverland banners. They are all on their way Sansa. They have to be coming here for a reason. Why are they coming Sansa?" Arya always wanted to know answers to everything.
It was Sansa's turn to be quiet. She had an idea as to why all the houses were on their way. They all want something. She suspected that there was more to these things than trade agreements and treaties. She didn't share her feelings with her sister because they were now at the family dining suit.
xxxxxxx
Bran sat at the table close to the fire. He was reading a book in one hand and the other hand he held a pen poised above his notebook. They often found him sitting at a table, a tree, the roof, reading and writing.
The two girls took their seats and sat down, placing the napkins on their laps. They knew better to interrupt their brother. They sat silent until the door boomed open.
"I don't understand why I couldn't have stayed in the forage. It's just dinner." Rickon was saying as he walked in the room. His hair was still damp from the wash their mother had forced him to take.
"We are not only eating dinner but having a family meeting." Cat's voice rang out from behind him.
"This isn't to talk about the name of the new child is it? I'm glad you are having a kid, but 14 years difference is a lot." Rickon flopped down in his chair. His dark shaggy hair unkempt and his gray eyes were bright. He was not yet done with his conversation with his mother. "I mean after Robb you had a kid a year for five years. Why did you decide to have another now after all these years?"
Catelyn's face held shock and frustration at her son's outburst. She was contemplating on sending him to his room, to get out of her sight. He was angry about the new Stark baby she carried, but to her it seemed he went out of his way to invoke her anger.
"We had a baby because I still love your mother, and thank the gods she loves me in return." Ned said coming into the room with Robb behind.
Rickon didn't say a word when his father entered the room. Ned walked in, kissed his wife, and took his seat at the table. There was a hush over the room as the servants brought in their dinner.
Three honey roasted chickens, onions roasted them covered in beef gravy, some kind of mashed root vegetable and hot rusty bread filled the apace on the table. They always received more food than the family could consume at meal times. They usually had guests eating with them, so the amount wouldn't be wasted. However, tonight was just for the family. Ned wanted one more night before the rest of the realm descended upon them.
"I assume you are all aware of the fact that we will be having visitors in a short amount of time. I have been given word that they will be here sooner than my sister's letter stated." Ned spoke after they had taken the food and started to eat.
Bran looked up from his book for the first time. His eyes were unfocused and he seemed to be coming to the surface for air for the first time all day.
"This is new to me father." Bran said softly.
Arya snorted and Cat gave her a warning look. Everyone knew that Bran lived his life in the pages of his books. He had learned to fight, because it was required of him, he had learned to ride a horse, because he had to. Bran had learned a little about everything he had read about to satisfy his curiosity. But give him the chance he would stay locked in the library and read every hour of the day.
"You wouldn't notice Winterfell burning unless the flames were licking up the book in your hand." Rickon said with his mouth full of chicken.
"Do not talk with food in your mouth Rickon." Ned said. "Like I was saying, we will have visitors. I expect you all to help ready Winterfell for their arrive. We have to open parts of the castle that have been closed off for many years to accommodate the number of people who will be staying here."
"I have read about a new way of cleaning. I can share this with the Ser Roderick to inform the servants on how to apply the technical method to the cleaning." Bran said, flipping in his notes.
"I am sure the servants know how to clean Bran." Robb said reaching for the spreadable cheese to cover his bread.
"But this system in my notes, here it is, states it is superior to what they are currently doing." Bran bristled. The others usually over looked his superior knowledge for outdated ways.
"We can try your idea out Bran." Catelyn spoke before her sons could start another argument.
"Now on the day they arrive you will all be dressed properly." Ned looked at his youngest son and daughter. "You will be kind to our guests and try to not shock them with your wild ways. Now lets us finish the meal and discuss better things."
"Sansa found my name day gift for her." Arya said.
Cat shook her head at her daughters. Arya had not hidden the dress well. The two fell into bickering. Robb was asking Bran about some new fighting ideas he had shown him from a book and Rickon was speaking quick and fast to his father. She was a little nervous to see the paleness of her husbands face as Rickon talked. Her son was getting frustrated with his father. He was having a difficult time keeping his voice down.
"Father there is no place for me here. Robb is heir, the girls will be wed and shipped off to another lord's castle, and Bran will go off to Old Town and become a master. I do not just want to be a useless son of a great house. I want to do something." Rickon spoke raising his voice.
"You would not be useless. You will be another banner man for Robb when the time comes." Ned spoke low.
"You won't need me. You have the new baby. I want to go to the Night's Watch. I have talked to Uncle Benjen and he says things have been dwindling on the Wall. Father they need good men." Rickon said.
"I know what the Night's Watch needs. But you will not be joining." Ned almost shouted. The rest of the family was silent to watch the conversation between Ned and Rickon.
"If I wanted to join the King's Guard would you have any words against it?" Rickon demanded.
"Yes I would. You are fourteen years old. You cannot join the King's Guard until you are a knight. And I will not permit you to be in the Night's Watch. That is the end of discussion." Ned seethed.
"It is not. If it was good enough for your brother, it is good enough for me. I will be joining when I am of age." Rickon stood a d his chair fell back with a crash to the floor as he fled the room.
Catelyn stood to follow him. He had always been her baby and she still felt the need to comfort him when he was in pain. If he was considering the Wall there was something going on. She slowly pushed her chair away from the table and went to find her son.
Xxxxxxxxx
Rickon had been seething when he ran from the dinner. How dare his father say he could not go to the wall when he came of age? His father had no control of him once he becomes of age. He felt like he had no place in the family now. He could always be knighted and serve his brother, as many younger brothers do, nut that was not for him. He did not want to stay at Winterfell as his brother's steward or the commander of his guards like his father planned.
He had secretly written to his uncle about his feelings. He had opened up to Uncle Ben about all his fears. Ben had known what Rickon felt, that is why he joined the Night's Watch thirteen years ago. He had seen his brother ruling the North and felt that he had no place. Watched Ned have a family and had known he would not be satisfied.
His feet took him to the one place he had always went when he was in need of council. He went to the Heart Tree. Many Starks had gone to the Tree when their hearts became to heavy. He sat in front of the face and told him his problems.
"I do not know why they feel I need to stay here. I have no place. No place here at Winterfell. The Wall would provide me with a place, let me find myself. I have no desire to wed and father children. I know I am meant for greater things than staying here. Why do none of them see that?" A twig snapped and he looked behind him to see his mother making her way to him, a touch held in her hands to light the way.
It always confounded him how his mother had lived in Winterfell for the last twenty years but still did not trust the land to walk free at night. She was still weary off this land and what it had to offer. She loved it here, he knew, but she didn't trust it. She might have wedded a Stark and bore Starks, nut she would always be different.
"Rickon." She only said his name but it felt like more.
He stood and walked to her. He knew she did not like the Face. He might be angry with her, but she was still his mother and he would go to her. When he came into the circle of light, the touch provided he saw her hand resting on her stomach.
"Mother." He resented her coming after him.
"Rickon please talk to me. What had caused this idea to form in your head?"
"You did. When you decided that the children you have weren't enough." He spat.
She was taken aback. She had felt his behavior towards her change when she had announced to the other children that she was going to have another child, but she did not understand the depth of his feelings until this moment.
"This child, it doesn't affect how I feel for you, or any of the others. This child is a gift from the gods Rickon." Her voice was soft and she fought to control the tears that were gathering in her eyes.
"It changes everything mother. With this new child, there is no need for me, no place for me. You have decided one of us was not good enough so you decided to try it again." He let his venom drip with every word.
"That is not true. You are important. You are enough. Your place is here, your home is here. Your family is here." She felt the first tear slide down her cheek.
"The only place I feel I would have a home is on the Wall. Once that child is born I will not be needed." He walked past her and he touched his arm. He stopped and looked down at her with saddens and anger.
"You cannot go to the Wall Rickon. We will never allow it." Her voice was strong and steady despite her tears.
"You cannot dictate my life forever mother. I have made my decision. I will become a man of the Night's Watch upon my sixteenth name day. And on that day, I will ride out of the gates of Winterfell and take the Black. You will not be able to stop me." He shook off her arm and took two steps away from her.
"You can't. You are my child, my baby. You cannot leave." She sounded so sure.
"No mother. You lost me as your baby when you allowed that one growing with in you to take root. I am not a baby and no longer a child. I will do what I want and if you try to stop me I will bring the wrath of Winter down on you." She shrunk back in fear from the words he spoke. He walked deeper into the woods to the sounds of her mother's tears.
Ned found her weeping in the woods and lead jet back to their room. She sat on the bed and cried on his shoulder.
"We have lost him Ned. He doesn't want us." She had said to him.
"No we haven't my beloved. He is just confused. Je will find his way back to us. Hush now. Let's get into bed. Tomorrow will be a long day." Ned kissed his wife. They prepared for bed.
Xxxxxxxx
Bran had looked around the room after Rickon departure. After his mother left the room, Ned walked out as well. Sansa and Arya were both sitting there with shocked looks on their faces and Robb was red faced with anger.
"What in the hells was that about?" Robb shouted leaving the table to pace the room.
"Rickon feels that the baby will disrupt the dynamic of the family and he will have no place with us anymore." Bran said with a shrug.
"He told you this and you didn't come to us about it?" Arya asked.
"Rickon hasn't talked to me. But that's what he told father. You'd have heard it too if you had been paying attention." Bran shot back.
"It doesn't matter if he knew or not. It only matters that we do something to make sure he feels like he has a place to live here. We cannot let him take the Black." Sansa spoke clearly and rationally. Everyone looked at her. They waited for her to share some great plan. "Don't look at me; I don't know what to say to him. Robb you are the oldest, you figure it out."
"I don't know. I cannot make him feel better about the baby. But we all know how he feels. When each one of you were born, I felt like I was not enough for mother and father. But as you grew I realized how useful you all were." There were various sounds from his siblings at this statement and Arya threw a chunk of bread at his head. He had tried to doge it, but she had anticipated that and aimed for where his head would be.
"Useful? If it weren't for us, no one in the North would like you. The way you prance around as if you already are the Lord of Winterfell. It's disgusting." Arya said.
"Oh how I wish you were a man. I'd make you the leader of my army little sister." Robb said with a smirk. She threw chunk of bread, but he caught it and took a bite. They all shared a laugh.
"I believe we should make Rickon the one who shows the guests around. Keep him so busy he will not be able to think of leaving. Then when he is so worn down from playing guide we talk to him, all of us. Mother and father will not be able to fix this or change his mind. We will, I hope." Bran said once they had all recovered from their laughter.
"That will work, but what to do until they arrive?" Arya asked.
"We send him to rebuilding things. Have him work on making the castle wings we have had closed safe. Hard manual labor would be good for him." Robb said.
"Agreed. Now let us go to the library. We need to find the plans for those wings so we know what we need to fix." Bran said walking to the door.
"Not all answers can be found in books Bran." Sansa said as she fell into step beside her brother.
"I disagree sister, I disagree." Bran said to her.
They worked into the night looking into the land plans for the castle. They thought they had known their home, but they had a much better idea of it now. Arya had stayed with the group for an hour before she tired of reading and she went to her loom to work.
Whenever she felt over whelmed and frightened about things to come she fled to her loom to work as she thought of things. She opened the door to her workspace. Her mother had given her the room to share with her sister. They had many good days working in the room together. She loved her sister. But she now felt with the arrive if the visitors she felt things were about to change.
She sat done on the stool and started to weave. She had been doing it for so many years that she could do it in her sleep. She let her hands move slowly. She was working on a delicate fabric, the raw materials brought from the Free Cities. She was working with silk. One of the harder to use threads. One false move and the entire thing would be ruined.
She was thinking of the visit and what the true motives meant. She was excited of finally meeting her aunt and cousin. She had heard many tales of her aunt, told by her father and uncle that she was the image of her aunt. She wanted to set eyes on her. Sansa was the beauty of the family, but Lyanna was called the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms.
The idea of being compared to her still set her stomach in knots. She was no beauty, lovely maybe, attractive possibly but not beautiful. She would soon learn. She also wondered, not for the first time, if the man she would eventually marry was among those coming to her home. She did not want to marry. She would be happy to stay in Winterfell all her days. But she knew that was not possible for her. She was the daughter of a powerful family and must marry another powerful man, because that was her duty.
There was a knock on her workroom door. Robb stuck his head in the room. He smiled and walked in with two cups of tea.
"I thought I'd find you in here." He said closing the door and sitting the tea on the table. He knew better than to bring any liquid near her work.
"What is it Robb?" She asked. She never stopped in her work as she looked over to him.
"I'm nervous about this visit. With this many people I can only think of two motivations. One is that they all rear something and are going to go to war. The Wilding have been causing trouble. And their talk has been of strange happenings beyond the wall. On the other hand, the other potion is that they are going to send you girls away, to the South. I hope that is not the reason. I couldn't beat the thought of you and Sansa leaving." Robb sat and drank his tea.
"Robb we will have to leave eventually. You know that." She weaved the threads on the loom. Back and forward her ha ds worked.
"Yes, but I thought you would stay close by. You may be a pain in the ass, but you are useful." Je chuckled at the use of his earlier joke.
"Once you marry you will not need me or Sansa anymore." Arya smiled at him over his shoulder.
"That's another thing. I fear father expects will hope I find my bride among the visiting families. I'm not ready to marry." Robb sounded lies petulant child.
"You are father's age when he married. I'm one year older than mother was. It is past time for it brother. I'm almost done for the night." She sat down her work and swiveled around on the stool.
"Working with silk?" Robb asked.
"Yes. I wanted to test the new loom. Bran is a genius. This design works better than I expected." She smiled at the hulking loom.
"He is. He has created a modern day plan for all of Winterfell. It is amazing."
"How long did you and Sansa stay with him and is he still in the library?" She asked.
"Sansa stayed ten minutes after you left. I stayed another half hour and convinced Bran to get some sleep. He had been up since yesterday morning. Once I tucked him in bed, I checked on Rickon. He was in his room, pretending to sleep. Mother is with father, she is still curing. Rickon must have said some very nasty things t get her to breakdown like this. I am worried about our family Arya. I don't know if we will be able to stay together for this visit." Robb said.
"We will. This is nothing. We are Starks. And Winter Is Coming. When things get to hard we will be together to see it through." She placed her hand on her brother's arm and squeezed it. "Besides there is nothing in this world that would divide us. Except maybe the Others."
"You still believe Old Nan's stories?" He smiled.
"You believed them too. I remember the time seven years ago when you and I slept in the Godswood to make sure we weren't invaded by the Others."
His eyes alighted with the memory. They had snuck out of the castle on the first snow of the hear seven years ago. They had taken sleeping furs and went out to the trees. They had a small fire in the trees and waited all night. No signs of the Others ever showed. In the morning, Robb and Arya were awakened by the furious yells of their mother.
"We were on pots and pans for a month in the kitchen for that one." He smirked.
"I especially love how you tried to tell mother the entire thing was my idea. You always were willing to sacrifice another to save your skin." Arya shook her head at him. "Not very lordly."
"I was a child. It didn't count." He stood and stretched. "It's getting late. Let's go to bed sister."
The two walked out of her workroom and they made their way to their bedchamber. Robb's room was first so he said goodnight and shut the door behind him. Arya entered hers, took off her dress and unbound her chest. She took a deep breath. She bound her chest, but never to tight. She had known she would be working that morning so she used the binds to secure her chest.
She slid into one of the silk nightgowns she had worked with her sister to make on her first attempt at silk. It was flawed, but she valued the garment nonetheless. She opened the wardrobe to place her dress inside and discovered the dress for her sister was gone. Inside was a note.
I took the dress to embellish it properly. Hope you are not mad, S
Arya smiled. Her sister always had to have the last word. She put a log on the fire burning in the fireplace. She did not need the heat of the fire, but she liked the flames that danced inside the gated hearth. She snuggled into her bed and watched the flames dance together and lick at the logs burning. She closed her eyes and dreamed of dragons, stags, and lions and of wolves.
A/N I just want to say I loath autocorrect. Every time I wrote Elia it changed it to Ella. I tried to fix it and correct my mistakes, so I hope its better. Now onto Winterfell and a look at the Starks. Next chapter will be from the Kings Road and we will meet meet characters. Enjoy the chapter and remember to review!