Willam had provided a small remuda to speed Lohgun's return to Winterfell. The only times he stopped to rest were to accommodate the tiredness of the horses or when his brain started to grow a tad foggy. When a particular mount showed signs of wearing out, he'd gift it to the next farmstead he passed by. When his black garron with three white slash marks on her flanks, the one he'd taken all the way to Pyke, pulled up lame one morning, Lohgun had felt enough regret in handing her over to the smallfolk crofter that he'd passed along a small handful of silvers and coppers while ordering the man to take good care of her, or else. All-in-all, his seemingly limitless endurance, and the extra horses, let him cover the near five hundred mile journey from Barrowton, half of which thankfully happened on the Kingsroad, in under ten days.
The sun showed an hour or two past its zenith when the dual, eighty and hundred foot walls of Winterfell at last, dreadfully, came into view. Not wanting any possible distractions to slow him from what fate would deliver, he left the road before it passed through the Winter Town and made straight for the southern gate. Whether his distinctive muttonchops and thick, wiry black hair gave him away, or the fact he wore a cape made of Badger skins, the pair of guards manning the entrance to the outer wall were already grinning goofily by the time he drew up to them. Happy sentries meant a happy Lord Eddard; the wildling took that as a good sign.
"Ho, Badger! Welcome back," called a slightly chubby guard.
"Ho, Tom. Missed you on Pyke. Your looking a bit fat, is that why Ned left you behind?" he called back.
The seasoned warrior gave a jolly laugh. "No, t'was the servin' wimen. They raised such a ruckus when Lord Eddard choose me ta go, well he regrettably told me to stay behind and look after their wanton needs."
"And how'd that work out for you then, Tom?"
The other sentry cut in, "Well enough, 'cept he still complains his cock burns when he takes a piss."
"Doesn't Maester Luwin have an ointment or something for that?" Lohgun inquired.
Tom flashed a toothy grin. "That he does. And I've got three scullery maids who enjoy applying it."
"All at the same time?" the wildling hooted, causing both guards to laugh so hard they needed to wipe away tears. Finally convinced the pair wouldn't actually fall to the ground, Lohgun offered his farewell, "we'll drink a round or two soon enough Tom." And he clucked his mount and spare horse into the archway of the outer wall, over the moat, and through the even taller second wall into the huge courtyard. Winterfell.
He pulled the reins to the left and passed around the Smithy, a steady, metallic beat at only one anvil filling the air. A typical day's hustle and bustle of people at work in the castle flowed around him. Most ignored him, too busy on their errands or drudgery, while a few noticed the Badger and gave a cheery waive. 'Better and better,' he thought, steering toward the nearest end of the stables.
"Horses arriving!" the wildling called out. He dismounted just outside the hay strewn structure, before leading two horses, both larger than the norm for him, within. His eyes adjusted almost instantly, and he began searching through the murk for his favorite stableboy. "Hodor!?" he shouted. There was something about the enormous man child that soothed the Badger's easily roused temper. Maybe the fact that the guileless, barely communicative colossus simply accepted him for him, and didn't, or maybe just couldn't, express any particular interest in Lohgun; not like most people who were either scared of him or wanted something from him.
"Hodor, Hodor," said the simpleminded giant, coming out of a nearby stall to take the reins of both Lohgun's horses.
"That's right, Hodor," the Badger answered kindly. "Give them a good rub down first, and then see that they gets some oats, alright?"
"Piotr," the stableboy answered.
Lohgun blinked hard. "What?" he asked, quite startled.
The gentle giant gazed down at him with his usual look of childlike innocence. "Hodor?"
Lohgun blinked hard again, still unsettled. "Never mind. Go ahead now Hodor, do your job."
"Hodor," the stableboy repeated, smiling happily, and then he tugged softly on the reins to have the horses follow him deeper into the stable to find a free pair of stalls.
'Odd,' he thought, slowly tilting his neck from side to side. Suddenly the Badger jerked his neck hard to the right. Crack! The physical tightness built during the day's ride, and likely the emotional tension building from his heavy sense of guilt, started to drain away. He began to whistle softly as he left the stables and headed across the courtyard to search for Cat and Ned.
"Lohgun!" "Lohgun!" a pair of voices shouted out. Two balls of six year old boyish energy came hurtling at him.
He dropped to his knees, laughing as he gathered them both in tight and started rubbing the unruly mops on top of their heads. "Robb! Jon! I missed you. How are my little warriors?"
They giggled. "Great!" "Great!" Then they started chanting, "Show us! Show us! Show us!"
"Have you been good?"
"Yes!" "Yes!"
"Playing with Sansa?"
"She's a girl!" "She's too little!" "She don't like playing with swords!" "Show us!" "Show us!"
"Oh alright," he drawled, trying to sound reluctant. Snickt!
"Oooooohhhh!" "Aahhhhhhhhhhh!" "Come here Theon, come look at the Badger's claws!"
Lohgun raised his head and saw a slightly older boy, nine or ten, with a sullen face, walking trepidatiously toward him, a small bow clutched tight in one hand.
"Lohgun, this is Theon, my new friend," Robb announced cheerfully. "Father brought Theon home with him so he could foster with me. Isn't that great? Theon's teaching me how to shoot a bow and arrow. He's really, really good with it."
"Oh, he's not so good," Jon refuted, a hint of jealousy in his tone.
"Hello Theon, a pleasure to see you again. You might not remember me, but I was at Pyke with Lord Eddard and the King," the wildling said pleasantly enough.
The sullen face, turned to a scowl. "I know you," he accused. "You killed Dagmer!"
The Cleftjaw had fought prodigiously during the landing at Lordsport and again on the walls of Pyke Castle. The Badger's katana had caught the Ironborn just below the rim of his nasal helm and taken the top of his head off. Lohgun nodded his head slowly and gravely in agreement. "I did."
Young Theon reached for a bolt sized arrow in the quiver hanging off his back. "Then I'll kill you," he declared.
The wildling started to push Robb and Jon behind his back when an authoritative voice filled the courtyard. "Young Lord! Remember yourself!" declared Maester Luwin.
"I'll pay the iron price and make a necklace of those claws."
With surprising speed the small grey robed man reached the recalcitrant child and grabbed his shoulder. "This is Winterfell, not Pyke. You are Lord Eddard's ward, you will obey his laws and not bring disgrace down upon your House," the maester said sternly. "Lord Robb, Jon Snow," he continued, now addressing the brothers," be so kind as to take young Lord Theon here to the Godswood. Some quiet contemplation on the knightly laws of honor, duty, and compassion appear in order."
"Awww!" "Do we have to?"
"Yes, and your response to my request shows such contemplation will do the both of you good as well."
"C'mon Theon," said Robb, suddenly breaking into a run. "Race you there!"
An insolent grin appeared on the older boy's face. "As if you could beat me pipsqueak!" And off he went.
"I'll be surprised if any quiet contemplation occurs, Maester Luwin."
A small, kind smile creased the grey man's face as he followed the footrace of his young pupils. "Me either. The Greyjoy lad is proving a handful so far." The Maester sighed and then drew himself erect, giving an illusion of extra height and power to his slight frame. "And a pleasure to see you returned to Winterfell, Lohgun. Have any of your old memories returned to you?"
The Badger laughed. "You've asked me that for the six years you've been at Winterfell? Why do you keep bothering?"
"Time, it is said, heals all wounds. And since blows to the skull have been known to both block and return a person's recollections of his life … well … with the recent threat from the Greyjoys …"
Lohgun laughed even further, "You were hoping some strapping ironman had given my brains a good bashing?"
Maester Luwin had the decency to appear bashful. "Well, no … not as such, exactly." He cleared his throat. "I should return to my duties. Is there some service I may provide to you before I go?"
The wildling smiled, he'd always made the kindly maester a bit nervous, but the question he asked put butterflies in his stomach. "Can you direct me to Ned? or Lady Catelyn?"
Maester Luwin cocked his eyes into the air in thought. A hand reached up to tug at his collar, causing it to glimmer in reflected sunlight. "Lord Stark … is in the Winter Town, checking on the efficacy of some newly excavated underground silos, since it rained last night. And Lady Catelyn … is praying in the Sept.
"Thank you Maester Luwin. It's good to see you again."
"And you, Ser."
He stepped silently into the modest seven sided building. There she knelt, praying before the image of the Mother painted on the wall. To Lohgun, she would always be the Maiden. Since he first caught sight of her seven years earlier, in the company of poor Brandon at Riverrun, she was the Maiden. Her reddish-brown hair drew his attention, like a moth enrapture by a flame. It cascaded over the top of the grey cloak that tried, but failed, to hide her lithe figure. Her subtle flower infused scent, with a hint of mother's milk and a girl babe, filled his nostrils. He breathed her in deeply. His eyes greedily drank the vision of her. His mind brought back the memory of her how her taut, silky skin felt as he caressed a hand across her naked belly, up swelled breasts, and hardened nipples. His insides stirred, hardened, and melted all at the same time. He swallowed hard, though no moisture coated his mouth and throat. Time slowed, stood still.
"Cat," he croaked at last.
Her back stiffened at his voice. Stiffly, awkwardly, she stood and turned slowly around. A baby, resting in a sling, hung from her front; lips attached to and occasionally suckling from a perfect breast.
"Lohgun," she answered in a low, dangerous voice.
"I heard the morning we left Seagard that you were with child."
Her eyes narrowed. A thunderstorm brewed on her brow.
"Eight months. Eight guilt wracked months I waited. Knowing the dishonor, and fearing the results. Eight months waiting to be destroyed. To see if I destroyed Ned."
Angry heat puffed into life inside him. 'What of me?' he snarled. 'Was I not worthy?' He bit back on the hurt, the impossibility of it all. "I'm … I'm sorry," you replied a tad too brusquely.
"Sorry? What does any man know of the sorrow of infidelity? When I realized I missed my time I brewed moon tea. I sat up all night looking at the cup. Was it Ned's? Was it yours? For a fortnight I didn't sleep! Every night I brewed a cup and stared at it."
"I'm … I'm sorry," he stupidly repeated, but at least this time with meaning. "Did anyone … guess?"
A bitter smile swept across her beautiful, full ruby lips. "There are only so many times you can ask Maester Luwin for tansy and pennyroyal. But he never said a word. Only hummed to himself and tugged nervously at his chain while he dug through the appropriate jars. And then I stopped asking for it. The Gods would grant me what they would I decided. So I waited … eight months. Eight months!" Finally a sweet smile flitted by. "And then she came."
"May I see her?" he asked tremulously.
Cat thought long and hard. Lohgun barely breathed. She looked down at the black haired child nuzzled to her bosom. "Alright," she declared. The babe napped on the teat. Cat snuck a pinkie into the side of her tiny mouth, breaking the latch, revealing an engorged nipple oozing a single drop of milk. The baby squirmed, unhappy to be taken off her source of comfort and turned her head, revealing, even for an infant, a long, horsey face.
'Ned. She looks like Ned.' Relief and desolation both coursed through him; no visible sign of his betrayal existed, but neither did any visible sign of his love.
"We named her Arya," Cat declared.
He'd had the name from Will, but kept it to himself, simply saying, "A good name. An honorable name."
The thunderstorm broke, "Honorable?" she spat. "I'm a Tully. Our words are 'Family, Duty, Honor!' Those words choke me like dust now. I'm empty inside now. Empty!"
"I'm sorry, I never should have …"
"Ha!" she barked. "You never should have … I, I never should have. I am the Lady of Winterfell. There is very, very little that anyone can make me do."
Her words confused him. He didn't know how to respond. "What do you want?"
"I want my honor back!"
Lohgun's skull ached. "Do you want to tell Ned, then?" he asked tentatively.
"Gods you're so thick, Lohgun! You really are a wildling. A great magnificent beast with no more sense than the Seven gave a block of ice," she spit disgustedly.
He drew himself up, afraid of the answer he might hear. "What do you want me to do?"
The storm crashed over him "I want you to leave. Leave Winterfell. Oh sup with Ned tonight, he'll want to see you, but come up with some excuse, I don't care how lame, and just go, damn you, just go!" Cat's tiny fists started to pound out her frustration on Lohgun's chest, her auburn hair swaying to the staccato beat. The sudden movements rocking the baby awake with a startled, unhappy cry.
Lohgun grabbed her wrists, imprisoning them within his large, thick hands. "Stop it Cat, stop it," he whispered. He watched her anguished face, tears welled up beneath her beautiful blue eyes.
"For the love you bear Ned. For the love you bear me. Never, ever, come to me alone again. And only come to Winterfell, except when Ned, as your liege lord, demands your presence. Do you understand me Lohgun? Never again. Never again! I'd kill myself."
The fire crackled in Ned's private office. While the Badger was heading north on the Kingsroad, a white raven had arrived in Winterfell, announcing the start of autumn. Winter is coming. Cold fingers had already started to latch their icy hold on to the North with each day's setting sun.
"Why must you leave so soon, Lohgun? You've just arrived. I need you close, my friend."
"Pshhh," he stated. "With the Greyjoys thrown down so easily, who is going to dare challenge Robert's rule? Dorne? No, Ned, there'll be little reason to call your banners for a good long time. And should you, well, where ever the wind rustles through the trees, I'll hear you Ned. My blades will always be there to protect you, to protect your family."
Grey eyes peered out of his long Stark face, weighing the Badger's words. Ned's lips pursed. "Still, you mean to wander again? The North is large, but you've roamed it for years already. What more is there to see?"
Lohgun scratched his overlong side whiskers. "I might go back to the Wall for a while. Benjen's playing ranger there, maybe he could use a wildling to teach him how to really track?"
Ned put on his Lord Stark face. "The Night's Watch is an honorable duty." A wry smile crossed his face. "Not thinking of taking vows are you?"
The Badger scoffed. "Even with whores in Mole's Town, I like using my cock too much to become a brother."
Ned rubbed his own facial hair. "You could do me a small service, instead. Not an easy service, it would take years and your full devotion."
Lohgun's eyes narrowed. "You're not tricking me stay in Winterfell. It's a dingy little place you got here Ned, but with more people and noise than I can take for very long."
Ned smiled. "Oh, I'm thinking of something more rustic, Badger. There are empty holdings out in the Wolfswood."
The wildling gaped in surprise.
"I'll even pay the reconstruction costs and arrange for crofters," the Lord of Winterfell continued.
"You want me to be a poxy lordling?" the Badger exclaimed.
"How does the Lord of Tumbledown Tower sound to you?"