"Benjen… Benjen!"

Benjen Stark jerked awake, only to find a pair of steel-grey eyes staring at him. He gave a muffled scream and the pair of eyes snatched away as he thrashed. He scrambled back under the covers in hopes that whatever was out there had left; when he hid, though, he was acutely aware of a very unhappy girl.

"You little shit," Lyanna groaned. "You headbutted me."

Benjen peeked out from under the cover and stared. Lyanna was there, holding her nose, desperately blinking back tears. She was dressed in a warm nightgown; her pale skin was barely visible in the soft moonlight streaming through his shutters.

"Lyanna?"

"What?" Lyanna snapped.

"What are you doing in my room?"

Lyanna took her hands off her face and put her fists on her hips. "What am I doing in your room? I came here to check on you because you were screaming, brother, and if you forgot, my room is right next to yours! Being the very kind sister I am, I came here to wake you up, and then you headbutted me!"

"You're not that kind," Benjen said bluntly, and Lyanna glared.

"So, are you going to shut up now?"

Benjen only shrugged awkwardly, and Lyanna flared her nostrils.

"Don't wake me up again," she said, turned so that her hair whipped behind her. "Or you'll regret it!"

Benjen sighed as the door shut. He snuggled under the covers again, but it wasn't particularly comfortable; his sweat had soaked into the sheets and his own nightclothes. He tried to recall his dream, even as it began to fade away from him. What had he dreamed of that had perturbed him so? He remembered… he remembered the sky was falling. The stars crashing down upon the earth. That was about as much as he recalled.

"Sisters, am I right?" said a voice. It was not one he'd heard before, yet it sounded familiar all the same. "Well, I never had one growing up, but I guess no matter where you are, they're all massive pains in the arse."

Benjen froze, and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Hey, little man. I'm not going to hurt you," the voice continued. He sounded unused to speaking to children. "I'm, uh, a bit lost, I guess."

Benjen slowly opened his eyes and pulled the covers down, expecting some dark god from the netherhells; what he saw, though, was a man as tall as an Umber in the corner of his room, leaning against his dresser, arms crossed under his chest. He wore a dark, hooded cloak on top of something that looked like snake-leather. He flashed Benjen a grin. His eyes were the same shade as his own, Benjen noted.

"Who are you?" Benjen whispered.

"Elijah James Stark, some people call me E.J or just James for fun. Nice to meet you, kid." Benjen wondered why he was being referred as such, before deciding there were more important things to think about. "As for why I'm here, well, I have no idea. And I'm not actually here, if you get what I mean."

To demonstrate, Elijah picked himself off the cabinet then waved his hand through it, as if he was going through air. Benjen stared.

"So I don't actually exist outside of your mind," said Elijah. "I'm basically making you hallucinate me. Easier to talk to something you can see instead of a disembodied voice, you know? That's from personal experience, by the way."

"Can you leave?" said Benjen, and Elijah grimaced.

"I'm stuck in your head. Sorry. If I knew how I wouldn't have bothered you."

Benjen threw his covers off; they were getting uncomfortable anyway. He stepped out of his bed, feeling the cool of the wooden floor seep through his socks. Elijah leaned back on the dresser, seemingly content to wait in silence as Benjen gathered his thoughts.

"Are you my ancestor?"

Elijah blinked. "What?"

"You said you were Elijah Stark."

Elijah tilted his head, considering. "I don't think so?"

"Then… then who are you? I don't understand. Are you here to steal my skin?" Benjen asked, with increasing panic. Elijah made placating gestures with his hands.

"I'm a wizard, and no, I'm not here to steal your skin. I'm not sure what that means, but I think I can guess from the context. And I won't steal your skin literally, either. That's gross."

"A wizard?" Benjen said flatly, and Elijah shrugged.

"I can't exactly prove it to you right now, but yes."

"Are you just going to be stuck in my mind for the rest of my life?" Benjen said. "Gods, I'm mad. I have to be. This is…"

"Hey, relax," said Elijah standing up. "You're not insane."

"Father? Father," Benjen cried, skirting around the edge of the room as James' eyes widened. "Gods, please, Lyanna —"

"Jesus Christ, keep your damn voice down —"

As Elijah reached out for Benjen, momentarily forgetting he was only a phantom, Benjen too reacted as he might with any other man; he jumped back, his back pushing up against the wall. He gave a strangled cry as he put his hands out in front of him, a futile gesture against any opponent; and yet, just this once, something bubbled up within him, like the geysers outside Winterfell, coursing through his veins like molten gold and exploded out of his hands.

The bed, dresser, and nightstand were thrown back against the far wall and splintered with a massive crash. Benjen stared, wide-eyed; Elijah also stared. He slowly turned back to Benjen, then, with a strange look on his face.

"Well," he said.

Benjen continued to stare at the ruined furniture.

"Yer a wizard, Benny," said Elijah.