AN: Hi. So yes, this won't seem new, and it comes after many other greater takes on the premise, but before Arthur Snow, before any of them (my other completed fics) I wrote two stories. One was my first attempt at a Black Prince, the other was a second son of Eddard named Torrhen, but other things happened where I gave up on them.
Now, please enjoy.
Chapter 1: Homeward Bound
The Merman's Court concluded on the crimes of one, Jonel of White Harbor.
He was accused of theft and rape, and Torrhen believed the witness with how the bruises on her cheeks and breasts seemed so fresh, like it had just happened hours ago.
It was revolting to see the smug look on the man's face, especially when the scum chose the Wall over true justice.
The sad thing for that, the Wall should be a place for those looking for honor and purpose, not a place for criminals and traitors that half would try and flee within the first year only to be beheaded for desertion.
Torrhen Stark contemplated the last four years since leaving home, how he cried and wished not to go, but his father knelt and looked him in the eyes, saying it was his duty.
Duty, was the second word behind Honor in his Mother's House, yet, all he wished to be was with his Family.
He was the second-born son of Eddard Stark, Warden of the North, and Lord of Winterfell. He had the blood of the First Men in his veins, but he took after his mother in looks apart from his eyes that shone like the grey rocks around the Stony Shore.
When he turned ten, he was offered as a foster for Lord Wyman Manderly, the Lord of White Harbor and Warden of the White Knife.
It was… Strange, to describe it.
He's never been to a city, hadn't seen Torrhen's Square or the Harbor, apart from Wintertown, he's never been away from Winterfell. It was difficult to be in the Merman's Court as well, the place was so much more lively than the court held inside Winterfell's great hall.
Yet he went without protest after speaking with his father, and, after some time, it was alright.
Lord Wyman kept him at his side during court sessions and always had him reading books on history, battle, and how to properly use one's treasury. He remembered Wyman's son and heir, Wylis telling him, "You are here to be your brother's right hand, not his replacement!"
It wasn't something to shrug off, he was meant to lead men and be the counsel Robb needed, which was why he squired for Ser Wendel, Lord Wyman's other son, and trained with arms, horses, and a few times even sailed a ship- Albeit, he nearly crashed two out of the three times.
Surely, Brandon the Burner knew wolves had no place on the sea...
His time in White Harbor wasn't all learning and training, he had fun as well, mostly with Lord Wyman's granddaughters, Wynafryd and Wylla. Then there was Daryn Hornwood, who had visited the court a few times, they got on well.
Wynafryd was much like his mother, dutiful but stern with a wit he fancied though it is more like she would be Lady of Winterfell and his good sister as maids in the North are rare, and he's positive his parents are looking for a Northerner for Robb.
Wyn's sister, Wylla had to be one of the bravest people he knows, she rarely takes flack from people, and on his arrival to White Harbor, she said he was to obey her grandfather, and as he was freshly 'exiled' from home, and bitter, he spouted he didn't need to listen to anyone.
His regret, as the first month, she would prank and make jokes, shaming him for his arrogance till they eventually made apologies, him for disrespecting her House and her for sliding dung in his bed and pillow... Also dying his shirts pink.
A sigh escaped his lips, and he turned to exit the hall, looking forward to today's lesson with Maester Theomore, 'Was it about the Conquest? Or the Vulture War... ' He shook his head, he'd find out soon.
"Torrhen, come on!" Wendel said aloud, he approached thinking he was in trouble but was gestured to follow, "My Father wants to see you, come on."
"I have lessons with Theomore... " He mentioned, and Wendel chuckled, wrapping an arm over his neck. Wendel has a large walrus mustache and is bald, his voice boisterous compared to his quiet brother.
Wendel smiled cheekily, "You will love this more than some lesson, boy, come along." Grumbling, and reluctantly, Torrhen followed Wendel back to the hall.
Arriving at the hall, he noticed Lord Wyman was holding some dog though at a closer inspection, he saw it was actually a wolf.
"Ah, Lord Torrhen. Come and see, an early name day gift from your Lord Father." The wolf? Torrhen was unsure, and when Lord Wyman set down the pup, it ran over to him and started licking his boot.
Kneeling, he looked closely at the pup, it had a light grey coat and a pair of blue eyes, sure to turn yellow as it got older. "Why would my father send me a wild animal?" As children, they weren't even allowed a dog, so why a wolf, it was strange.
Wyman laughed, "Your father executed a deserter from the Night's Watch the other day, he and your brothers came upon the pups and their dead mother shortly after... And it's no ordinary wolf, lad, it is a Direwolf."
No direwolf had been spotted past the Wall for almost 100 years, Torrhen's eyes widened in surprise before returning his gaze to the pup and scratching its ears. "May I send my thanks home?" He asked.
He would occasionally write to home, and his siblings would oft do the same, it was their way of maintaining their bonds as brothers and sisters.
"You won't need to, Torrhen." Wylis said with a frown, "Your father has called you home within the fortnight... "
"What?" He still has two years left here, knighthood after the last few years he spent as a squire, it was a shock to go home so early, "Why?" He asked Lord Manderly.
Wyman frowned and took from his doublet a raven scroll, "The Hand of the King has died, and the King is coming to see your Father."
Later, he was in his chambers reading a book while his pup sat by his feet.
He had decided to name it Bael, after the ancient King Beyond the Wall who had impregnated the daughter of Brandon the Daughterless. Torrhen had chosen the name after Wynafryd and Wylla fell in love with the pup, barely listening to their mother during dinner.
It was all quite funny, so Bael was reborn today and in the form of a direwolf. "Still stealing daughters from the Lords of the North." He said and made Lord Wyman nearly spit out his wine from laughter.
A knock on his door took him from reading further on Jaehaerys the First and his second royal progress. "Come in." He called, and the door opened to Wynafryd.
"Wyn? Please, come in." He set down his book and rose to his feet, "What do I owe the visit?"
Wynafryd held up a box, "Father knew you would be leaving a few days, thankfully I overheard and had to make you something." She strode inside and set the box on the bed, then knelt down to pick up Bael, "You are so adorable, I love this animal."
"You won't in a few months, I heard from Nan that direwolves can grow as large as horses, and thrice as fierce." He wondered if Old Nan was still alive, he had always loved her stories, as did all his other siblings.
Wyn turned and put a hand on his own, "I hope you love your present, I picked silver fur and grey threading for it."
It was a beautiful cloak, nicely stitched together, and the silver fur did add extra beauty to the cloak. "Thank you, Wyn. I love it."
"Here, you know Wylla is too proud to come herself, but she had this made for you, too," It was a small box this time, and when Torrhen opened it, he gasped.
It was a pretty ring, a direwolf head engraved on it. 'These were goodbye gifts... ' He was saddened to go even after being reluctant to venture into this fostering when he was ten.
White Harbor has been a second home to him, and Lord Manderly and all of his House would always be his second family.
"I'm going to miss you, Torrhen Stark." He wiped a tear falling from his eyes, Wynafryd chuckled and used her thumb to wipe away one he missed.
"You know, it won't be forever. I might even be allowed to return for my final two years after the King has come to give my father the offer." Naming his father the new Hand had to be the only reason the King was coming North, simple past camaraderie would be a poor misuse of the Crown's time and effort.
Wynafryd smiled, lowering to kiss him on the cheek, "Then I can't wait to see you back in New Castle, Torrhen Stark." She left him a little flushed but it was a good feeling.
The next day he was walking towards the training yard, picking up his bow, and readying a shaft, with precision, the arrow hit its target at the chest. Another arrow and he hit the head, another and it struck the hand, and last was the knee which is a crippling blow to any career knight or warrior.
A grin formed, and Torrhen thought he had to be a decent archer.
Theon, in the few years he lived at Winterfell after the fall of Pyke was arrogant when it came to martial arms such as fighting and archery. Before he left for White Harbor, he had sworn to the heir to Pyke that he would become the best archer in the world.
His swordplay isn't awful, yet he would put himself leagues below Robb and Jon, but when a bow was ever put in his hands, he struck like a thunderbolt.
Taking aim, he shot again and hit the dummy in the heart.
"You've slain the king of dummies!" He shook his head and turned to Wylla, who stood near a post, arms crossed over her chest. "I taught you well, my good student." She said with confidence.
"You mean Wendel taught me well, Wylla? I only recall you ever chiding me when I missed." He set the bow down and approached the youngest daughter of Wylis and Leona, "I want to thank you for the gift, I will treasure it."
A blush formed on Wylla's cheeks, "Yes, well... Just don't pawn it when you need coin, it was my whole purse to make that, seven gold dragons."
"Do you remember our foot races in the snow, I daresay I won the last one." He said and as a way to challenge her, Wylla rose one of her blond brows, and then they were off to race about New Castle's godswood.
It was a fun day, laughing and chasing each other through the mud and grass and when the race involved entering the marble floors of the castle itself and ending when they made it to the main hall.
All the while, Bael was chasing them and barking with excitement.
A few days passed, and the time had come to leave, he embraced Ser Wylis and Lord Wyman and the sisters. Lady Leona patted his cheeks, saying to visit again someday.
Wendel and he were heading towards the city gates, when he heard a call, "Don't leave yet, friend!" A familiar voice greeted him, and he turned to smile at the incoming form of Daryn Hornwood. "I heard you were going home indefinitely and had to come and see you." both boys embraced like brothers as they were.
Daryn was the only male companion in the last four years around his age, he hadn't visited home, so they sort of became brothers.
"I wish you were coming to Winterfell, meet my family as I met yours." He half-suggested, to which Daryn looked to want to accept the offer, but he couldn't, and Torrhen knew it.
Daryn is the heir to the Hornwood as Lord Halys' only child, well, only trueborn child. His friend has a half-brother, Larence Snow, who is warding with Lord Galbart Glover in Deepwood Motte.
He hasn't met Larence, but from what Daryn spoke of him, he was reminded of his own half-brother, Jon.
"Well, I wish you a great time with your family, Torrhen. I see us meeting soon at the annual harvest feast." Ah, right, he forgot about that.
There were times he wished to go, but his place had been to be where Lord Wyman was, and the Lord of White Harbor rarely leaves his castle. "I'll see you then, friend. Send my love to your father and mother," Lady Donella is a kind woman, and Lord Halys is jovial, ever-obliging.
Daryn nodded and backed away so he could rise on his horse, he whistled for Bael, "Come to me, Bael. Let's go." The pup followed his horse.
The return trip to Winterfell took them three days, they may have been there in four, but they rarely stopped for little more than an hour of rest and to feed the horses before getting back on the road.
Ser Wendel made jokes and sang the entire way, Torrhen preferred less, but it was better than riding in silence.
It was dawning on the third day when they came over a hill, he sighed seeing the Kingsroad, and from there was the visible sight of his home he hadn't seen in years.
Torrhen smiled, and Wendel chuckled, "Welcome home, lad." That he was, he was home at last.