Chapter 6: Sweet Sorrow

The day had arrived. It was time for Ned Stark to leave Winterfield and start his journey to King's Landing. Soon he would be sworn in as the new Hand of King Robert. He had already bid his goodbyes to his children besides Bran and Jon. Unsurprising, Arya had been annoyed at the announcement of her upcoming betrothal. But Ned was sure she would accept it in time.

Now, Ned would focus on saying goodbye to his wife. For a moment, Ned watched her knit at Bran's bedside, her long red hair fluttering around thanks to a breeze from the open window. His son had not awoken yet from his injuries. Ned wished he could stay until he recovered, but he knew that might never happen.

"It's time isn't it. Time for you to leave." Catelyn's eyes looked downcast. "I wish you could stay, but I know it's for the best."

"I'll write to you, as often as I can," Ned promised.

Catelyn shot upwards and started to ramble, "That's good and all, but it doesn't help. Jory said he found pieces of golden hair in the tower. They belong to the Queen, surely. But she would just say that they belong to Jacks. So that's no help. What are we going to do? You're heading out today with a family that probably wants to murder you. Who killed Arryn. Us passing notes that they might intercept won't fix that. You're in so much danger, and there's nothing I can do."

"Cat," Ned murmured, walking toward her chair and bringing her into his arms. "I'm aware of the danger and I'm not afraid. I know how to protect myself. I have fought in multiple wars, remember?"

As much as he hated killing and fighting, he had mastered the art of self-defense from his time in Robert's Rebellion and the Greyjoy Rebellion. He had even saved several of his allies from close calls with death.

Catelyn sniffed. "I know. That doesn't make me less scared. Lannisters are worse than the most malicious of lions. Their house sigil should depict a snake instead. They are slippery, dishonorable snakes that will stop at nothing to let all the other noble families around them suffer."

"I'm not alone. I'll have Jory and the rest of their men. You said you had a friend in the King's small council who will be willing to help."

"Petyr Baelish, the Master of Coin. He will help you. Stay close to him." Catelyn burrowed her head onto Ned's shoulder. "Be careful. Always have a sword on you, just in case. Don't trust the Lannisters. Don't trust the other families that have their own desires for power. I remember what it's like in the South. Everyone is a player in a game for prestige."

"I'll be careful. I'll find out the truth. I'll make sure the Lannisters pay."

"It sounds like you are certain that the Lannisters are dangerous. I know Robert talked to you in confidence about what happened to Bran. Did he tell you something that led you to believe that the Lannisters were involved? For most, I can't see someone hurting their own family, but a Lannister…"

"I don't know how involved that family is in all the mysterious occurrences, but I promise you, I'll figure out what truly happened to Jon Arryn."

"And Bran." Catelyn leaned her body against his, resting her head against his shoulder. "You'll get proof on exactly who sent an assassin to almost killed him."

As they kissed, Ned wished he could tell her about Joffrey. He would finally explain why he was so fearful. But he promised Robert. And it wasn't like Catelyn didn't know the Lannisters posed a danger. Soon, Joffrey would be far away from his children. Catelyn would find a way to manage without him.

As he awaited in the stables for his brother to arrive, Ned fed his dark brown horse. Unlike the other horses, who were neighing loudly and knocking their hooves against their stall's doors, his horse chomped quietly. Ned always appreciated that the horse followed his docile example. It will be good to have some company to soften his coming journey.

The stable's wooden door squeaked when Benjen entered. His brother was breathing heavily, and he leaned a heavy-looking book against Ned's horse's stall.

"Sorry I'm late." Benjen exhaled and spit on the floor. "Sorry. I had one of those nights. I wanted to finish this before you left. I've been thinking a lot about the recent desertions at the Night Watch and how you mentioned the Kingslayer referenced to the tales of the Long Night. The Kingslayer tried to talk to me about the tales yesterday, but I refused. I have no time for men like him. As I was saying, Yoren, one of my brothers, once mentioned that a deserter raved about the Children of the Forest..."

"It's all hogwash," Ned said. "You shouldn't worry about the ravings of a mad man."

"I thought that too, but there have been so many desertions. A greater number than ever before and multiple men described a dead man coming to life and chasing after them."

"They may all be sharing the same mania. Maybe it originates from some herb beyond the Wall. It could be a Wilding plot where they are poisoning your men." Ned hoped that would appease his brother's worries.

Benjen bit his lip. "This book by Eedric Stark, The Fable of the Children of the Forest. We always talk about it as a tall tale he wrote to demonstrate our families' values. But, what if it's more? What if it's a true story? It details a time before the fight with the Children where people doubted their neighbors' stories about the White Walkers, the Night King, and the Wights, and they killed them all. That's exactly what we are doing to the deserters who are telling the same tale. This story is telling us to not kill people who are trying to warn us of unknown dangers."

"The law asks us to punish the deserters through death. They broke their vow, and they must pay the price." Ned sighed. "It's tough, I would love more than anything to follow the lesson in this story, but we are making the correct call. You know that life is tougher than fiction."

Benjen gulped. "I wish I could reason everything like that. But if this story is correct, we are making a grave mistake ignoring the warnings from the deserters."

"If the Kingslayer never told me he believed in this drivel while drunk, would you even be thinking about this?" Ned asked. "He probably planned for me to listen to his fake conference with the Gods. He wants us to be distracted from what really happened to Jon Arryn."

"The truth is, I have been thinking about this for ages, ever since the first deserter told his story." Benjen made eye contact with Ned and Ned noticed the sclera around his blue-grey irises were burning pink. Was his brother becoming as maniacal as the deserters?

"Benjen, you're letting the mania infect you. You need to stop thinking about these tall tales and focus on what is right in front of you. Your work. Your life. You should go back to Wall and ask for a few weeks away from catching deserters. Maybe you can focus on training new recruits, any position that will get you away from this stress."

Benjen's pink eyes blinked rapidly. "I wish you would just consider this. But it is what it is. Bring this book with you on your journey. Even if you don't believe it, you should at least read it."

"I will." Ned took the books from his hands. "And in return, you will take a few weeks away from the deserter problem."

Benjen nodded, absent-mindedly petting Ned's horse. "Fine." He then smiled, a rough contract to his reddening face. "Good luck on your journey. You're going to make the North proud. Who would have thought, when we were young, that you of all people would become Hand of the King!"

All Ned wanted to do was visit the Godwoods tree one last time prior to his departure. But his misfortune continued; he found two Lannisters talking in the forest path that led to his one private place. Yet again, the Lannisters were taking over his home. This time the Kingslayer was joined by his dwarf brother.

There were so many places to linger around in Winterfell. The training yards. The various towers. The glass gardens. Why did his least favorite family keep deciding to intrude on sacred ground?

"... 'ink about it. There's nothing special about the Wall. You should just come home with me." The Kingslayer spoke gruffly.

Still, maybe this coincidence was not as bad as he thought. Maybe, this was a chance to find out something about what the Lannisters did to Jon Arryn. Maybe they will be foolish enough to admit what they did.

"Dear brother, you're going to miss me that much?" The dwarf laughed. "I told you my plans ages ago, and you wait until today to try to dissuade me?"

"I was a little distracted," The Kingslayer admitted. "But, I know, with everything going on, that you would be safer at home."

"Home." The dwarf snorted. "Back to a place where everyone despises me but you. I need a break from that wreaked city. Unless you can convince our father to give me Casterly Rock and name me heir, I'm ready for some time in the one place where everyone is accepted despite their sordid pasts or defects."

The Kingslayer snorted. "The Wall is just snow beyond snow. A graveyard for disgraced souls. There's no point in going."

The dwarf laughed so hard he started to hiccup. "The whole word is a graveyard. Especially King's Landing where everyone dies in squalor as the King fucks every whore. From all the nasty roads full of peasant shite to the court where everyone fights for the King's favor. I'd rather go to the graveyard where people recognize their place in life and no longer pretend, they are important."

"You're fucked in the head." The Kingslayer swayed his right arm.

"I simply recognize how the world works." The dwarf grabbed his brother's fidgeting right hand. "Relax, Jaime. I'll come back for you. I will only be gone for a little while."

"I know. I wish you would let me change something." The Kingslayer kneeled next to his brother and looked directly at him. "If you somehow come along some creatures that look like the undead, use fire to kill them. Valyrian Steal if you can find some."

The dwarf snorted. "I'll keep that in mind."

"And say, you will at least skip Winterfell on the way home."

"I would think you would like me to check on our nephew."

The Kingslayer shook his head. "The Starks would never hurt him, but I cannot believe the same as for you. I hate for them to trap you because they believe, wrongly so, that we were involved in the former Hand's recent death."

Did the Kingslayer guess he was eavesdropping? Was he attempting to lead Ned astray?

The dwarf glanced away and locked eyes with Ned. Was that fear in his eyes? What did a Lannister have to be scared about? "Can we help you, Lord Stark?"

Before Ned could respond, the Kingslayer spoke solemnly. "You will know what to do when he creeps behind you." The Kingslayer's eyes flickered, his shoulders sagged, and his butt dropped to the ground. "Of course, it was you, not the Night's Watcher."

The dwarf gazed back and forth between Ned and the Kingslayer. "Come on, dear brother, let's go check on Tommen. He's been asking for you."

The Kingslayer ignored his brother and continued to stare at Ned. "But, of course, you won't believe a word I say. You won't believe anything even a warning that the Dragon Queen will follow in her father's footsteps and will burn soldiers and her enemies like us who stand in her way."

"Jaime." The dwarf grabbed his brother's arm. "Come on."

This time the Kingslayer acknowledged his brother. "Yes. Good day, Lord Stark. Who could have imagined that you would be so intrigued by my lovely mug?" The Kingslayer laughed as he walked away with his brother.

Ned watched them go, thinking all the while about the latest conversation he listened in on. It continued to be on the front of his mind as he said goodbye to his family and as he rode down the Kingsroad next to a talkative Robert. Yes, as much as Ned tried to forget the Kingslayer's words, that night Ned dreamed of fire and a woman with Targaryen white hair smiled as her dragons burned down a league of soldiers.

Was the Kingslayer a Greenseer? Was he becoming one? No. The dreams were only dreams. The Kingslayer was trying to distract him from the true mystery; who killed Jon Arryn and why?