Of White Trees and Blue Roses

I own nothing. This all belongs to GRRM, and I'm just playing with the story he gave us.

~X~

Chapter Three – The Way to Harrenhal

Sweaty but laughing, Robb gave Ned a playful pat on the back with a heavy hand, a final blow to make up for Robb losing their exchange only moments earlier.

"You might best me with a sword—"

"And with a spear," Ned added with a smile.

Leaning against a wooden fence not far away with Benjen, Brandon gave the loud laugh that Ned should have given, while Ben sat watching with more than a hint of hero worship. Robert Baratheon hadn't even had the excuse of distraction—Lyanna was out of the castle riding. Some said the sight of a beautiful woman inspired a man to fight harder; with his future brother-in-law, it seemed to do the opposite.

"Aye, but I'm built to use a hammer." Robb retorted, pointing out the thickness of his own arms.

Brandon gave Benjen an encouraging wink, and it only took a second for his youngest brother to realize that this was his last opportunity to ask before Jon Arryn's two wards returned to the Eeyrie. Jumping down, he ran over to Robb.

"Can I lift it? Please!"

Robb looked at his hammer, to Ned, and then back to the smallest Stark. "I don't know. Can you?"

"Don't drop it on your toes," Brandon said as he walked over to enjoy the spectacle. "Being a cripple won't help your chances of being a great knight."

Dusting his hands on his breeches, Benjen disagreed. "Ser Humfrey Hardyng broke his foot jousting at the Tourney of Ashford, and he still took part in the Trial of Seven."

"And if remember correctly, he died soon after. Listen to your older brother," Ned added, still in good humour, though his face expressed it less than his companions.

The head of the hammer weighed itself down in the mud and straw of the yard, and the ornate shaft lay against the fence only a short distance from where Ben had been sat admiring the weapon. Wrapping his hands around it with an expression of awe, Ben bent his knees and used all the power his not yet fully grown body could muster. The head of the hammer wobbled a few inches above the ground.

"I can lift it!" he cried, as Brandon applauded. Then Ben began to waddle in the hammer's owner's direction.

"Whoa." Robert rushed over and took it out of Benjen's hands, picking it up and resting it on his shoulder as if its weight was nothing. "It wouldn't take much for this to knock out an ankle or two."

After a brief sullen moment, Benjen's face then brightened as he turned to his oldest brother. "Do you think father will let me have one?"

"A hammer's all well and good, and I dare say that it breaks bones easily enough," Brandon said with a smirk, picking up his own sword rather than one of the blunt edged practice swords that Ned and Robb had been using. "But it's slow. A wolf attacks better with a sword, going for a quick, clean kill. It requires more skill, of course..." He gave Lord Baratheon a challenging smirk.

"Not many men can lift a weapon this heavy. It only takes one blow—a broken leg, arm, or head, and then your swordsman won't be so bloody quick."

Brandon began to circle Robb. "Let's see if you can back up your words. Don't think you've seen all a wolf can do because you've fought with my brother so many times. He's spent too much long breathing the thin air at the Eeyrie and lost his teeth."

Ned's expression didn't change, but Benjen looked up at him, nervous about the thought of Brandon fighting Robert Baratheon with his war hammer for real.

"I know how to make a man lose a few teeth." Robert held his weapon ready. "This'd do the job."

And then Brandon Stark, heir of Winterfell, clashed with Robert Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End's. Benjen's face was a picture of horrified concern, but Ned, however, had seen the wink Brandon had given and how the two men made exaggerated noise rather than potentially killing blows. Benjen watched the epic battle unfold, his heart in his mouth.

Finally bending double with laughter, Robb and Brandon put an end to their act, but as Robb turned to congratulate his opponent, he paused, finding Brandon's sword at his throat.

"Never take your eye off a wolf for a second." The Stark heir's expression had changed, and though his grin remained, it now seemed sinister rather than jovial. "Remember that once you marry one, too, if you know what's good for you. Stick your sword in the wrong sheath, and you might find that the she-wolf goes for your neck...just like I did."

For a second, silence fell in the yard, but Ned stepped forward. "You've had your fun now, Brandon. Let him be."

Older and younger brother's eyes met. "Ned, you never did know how to have fun." Brandon slowly lowered his sword. "If you weren't so like Father, I might think that you didn't have a drop of direwolf blood in you."

With a meaningful stare at Robert, Brandon marched away.

As he touched his fingers to his throat and brought them away red, Robb exclaimed, "He cut me."

Straight-faced, Ned turned to his friend. "Aye, a sword will do that."

For a moment, Robb glared but then roared with laughter. Confused as to what had just happened, Benjen nervously joined in.

~X~

The further they got from Winterfell, Ned noticed that Robert Baratheon became his usual self rather than the love sick creature he transformed into the second he laid eyes on his sister.

On one hand it was reassuring, but on the other it reminded him of a conversation he'd had with Lyanna back in Winterfell. Robert's reputation went before him—particularly his love of female company. Lyanna had thought him handsome. Robb was certainly strong and easy to like, and if he ever regained his senses around his sister, Ned thought he had as much chance as any of taming Lyanna's wildness, though slight that chance may be. Yet he knew that Lyanna would never stand for the indiscretions that would inevitably follow their marriage.

As infatuated with his betrothed as his friend might be, Ned was not so trusting in the concept of true love that he believed Robert would change his ways. They said that in the beginning, love consumed, but in the end it grew cold. That would be when Robb would go in search of a warmer bed, and that would be when either Lyanna or Brandon would express their disapproval.

Thinking back to Brandon's reaction, Ned thought about his brother's own behaviour—how despite being promised to Catelyn of House Tully he had already slighted his honour by taking the maidenhead of Lord Ryswell's daughter. It was common enough knowledge.

Though his brother might tease him about the fact he was still a maid, Eddard Stark was determined to do the honourable thing. He would never sleep with a woman outside of his marriage, to whomever or whenever that might be, and no matter what his brothers or his friends thought. It was something that felt morally right to him

Both surprised and pleased, Ned noted that Robert did not bed a single girl during the whole journey back to the Vale, despite the fact Robert had now regained all of his boldness. A number of times, a wench managed to find herself sat on Robb's lap, but all it took was a passing comment about or caress along the straight, red line on Robert's throat, and that was enough for him to cast the whore aside.

Ned almost dared to dream that this might be a permanent change, and also wished that Robb might be able to keep his wits about him the next time they would see Lyanna—at Harrenhal.

~X~

Lord Rickard Stark thought of his children as they travelled down the Kings Road, and as he rode he wondered whether it was best to foster out Benjen, his youngest, or whether he should continue his education on his own.

Both Ned and Brandon had returned very different persons after being wards of two different lords. Where Brandon was quick to temper and even quicker to humour, Ned reminded him more of himself. How much of this was nurture and how much due to their own individual natures? Sighing quietly, Lord Stark wished he could combine his two eldest sons, for then he surely would have fathered the greatest Warden of the North that ever lived. Still, Brandon would do well, he hoped. He certainly had the makings of a memorable Lord Stark, if not the wisest.

If only he had some of Ned's measured steadiness—his second son had definitely flourished under Lord Arryn's guardianship, though he had always been his quietest child, even as a babe.

To temper Brandon, Lord Rickard had taken Maester Walys's advice and betrothed his heir to the daughter of Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun. Hopefully, making such a good match for his heir, Brandon might settle and become tamer. The girl was said to be very comely, pleasant, and all a lady should be, plus her father and uncle had reputations for being strong, dutiful men—ones who would not take a slight well. This thought might dissuade Brandon's wilder habits. Ned might be given lands near Winterfell, and remain on hand to be the voice of reason for his older brother.

When making a match for Lyanna, things had been much more difficult. It was his own fault, Lord Rickard admitted. He had been too lenient with his daughter, allowing her free rein to do as she pleased. The result had been a girl trying to emulate her brothers, and that was going to be difficult when she moved away to a place where she would be expected to behave like the highborn lady she was.

That she had turned out to be beautiful had helped a little. Lord Robert Baratheon, though barely more than a child himself, had a reputation for being as wilful as Lyanna, or so he'd been told by Jon Arryn. There had certainly been very little evidence of that during his stay at Winterfell. Instead the boy had stared at his future wife like a besotted fool. It was pleasing to see his regard for her but also exasperating—yet another male who his daughter would ride roughshod over.

Soon he would have to find a wife for Ned. Being second in succession for the title of Lord Stark and more inclined to stand back and let others take the glory, he would struggle to find another Catelyn Tully for him. But no doubt the relationship with one of his bannermen could be strengthened.

Or maybe, as a kindness in return for Ned's good behaviour, he might allow his middle son to marry for love...