Catelyn Stark 292 A.C

Who did that boy think he was? To show me up in front of the rest of Winterfell in such a way. The bastard had been just as bad, he could have refused to come and sit with us and spared my embarrassment. It had proven to Catelyn what she already knew about bastards in general, they grasped for a station higher than they deserved and cemented themselves to the thighs of those above them. Tricksters and liars the lot. That's it, Brynden must have been deceived by the boy in some way. Although from the way she'd seen them act together since the first feast she doubted she'd be able to drive a wedge between them. Catelyn would have to settle for protecting her children instead. She'd successfully managed to keep Robb away from the pair by packing his schedule with lessons, the only time she'd let him be with them was feasts and arms training as she could see how much they both meant to her son.

When she'd heard about the Brynden spending time with her daughters she'd been thrilled as it proved her teachings on the correct etiquettes and ways of the southern houses had been important. Although if she felt the boy had any further affection for Sansa than was expected she knew she'd have to step in and set him straight. Her daughter deserved only the best. The fact that they'd been joined by the bastard being one of the many mounting worries she had started to feel. Perhaps she should write to Peter again soon.

Catelyn's musings were halted by a knock at the door to her husband's solar. Followed by the entry of maester Luwin to deliver the morning's ravens.

Luwin smiled in greeting before handing her a stack of letters. "My Lady, I believe you'd enjoy reading this one first."

Catelyn's eyes were glued to the direwolf stamp on the back of the letter. Her hand's quickly opened the letter and she made short work of its contents.

Dearest Cat,

I hope you and the children are doing well. My letter brings good news. The rebellion is squashed and now I am on my way home. I cannot wait to see you, Jon, Robb, Sansa, Arya and Bran again. Alongside me I bring both the king and Ser Jaime Lannister, soon to be named lord of Casterly Rock. Please begin preparations for housing them, I will be home soon.

Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell

Her husband was coming home. Thank the gods. Moreover, he was bringing the king! Winterfell would need to begin preparations in earnest, if the raven had arrived today then the party returning from the Iron Islands would probably be here within the week.

"Maester, it appears we will be having a royal visit soon, my husband is coming home."

Maester Luwin beamed. "Excellent news My Lady, Do you need any assistance with prepping the castle?"

"No maester, I will see to it myself."

The maester nodded before leaving her to her thoughts again. Catelyn Stark smiled to herself, the king had a son, similar age to her daughter. She dreamt of Sansa the queen rather than Sansa her daughter.

Brynden Blackwood 292 A.C

Ever since the first night feast Brynden had spent everyday with Jon Snow, they ate, trained and laughed together. This morning, they had even gone together to pray. Both boys instantly relaxing in the presence of the Heart Tree and the old gods. Jon sat in his usual seat facing the tree while Brynden rested overlooking the small pond with his back on what Jon had told him was his father's seat. Even Tytos seemed more at ease as he perched on the Heart Tree above them. Brynden once again marvelled at the effect the faith had on those that believed. The duo was silent at first as they spoke to their gods.

Brynden glanced over at Jon. "Excited for your father to return Jon?"

Jon opened his dark grey eyes and looked back at Brynden. "Aye, this place is not the same without him. When he's gone it feels less like home."

"What's he like?"

Jon considered his words. "Moody."

Both boys burst into laughter. "I'm being serious Jon, I've heard so much about the honourable Ned Stark. I want to know what he's truly like."

"I was being serious, he's grumpy. But he's also my father and I can tell he cares. I understand he can't be as outwardly caring to me as Robb and the others but he does care."

"How do you know?"

"How do I know what?"

"That he cares."

Jon scowled at Brynden. "He's my father Brynden."

"Just because someone's your parent doesn't mean they care."

"Every nameday we come and sit here. Just the two of us for hours japing and telling stories. No Robb or Sansa. And no Lady Stark. That's how I know he cares. What about your father, I don't think I know much about him."

Brynden looked up at his raven. "My father was the best person I knew. He was always there I suppose watching over my shoulder."

Jon stared at the other boy. "Why did you say 'knew' Brynden?"

Tears began slowly falling down his face. "Because he's dead Jon, my father's dead and I can't do anything about it."

Jon went over to Brynden and enveloped him in a tight hug consoling the taller boy. The pair sat like that for a while before Brynden managed to bring himself together.

"Thanks Jon."

"You're my friend Brynden, we should help each other."

Brynden nodded. "Aye, that we should."

Silence overtook the godswood for a few short seconds as Jon digested the bombshell that his friend had dropped on him.

"Wait… if your father's dead then doesn't that make you the Lord."

Brynden face showed agony. "Not exactly Jon."

"But when my father dies Robb will become Lord, why is it different for you."

Brynden gazed deeply at Jon. "Same reason as you."

Jon's faced grew puzzled. "I can't become lord Brynden; Lady Stark isn't my mother. The lordship goes to the oldest trueborn child alive. I'm not going to be lord because I'm a… I'm a bastard."

"Exactly Jon, the oldest living trueborn heir."

Realisation dawned for Jon. "Lady Blackwood isn't your mother."

"No Jon, she is not."

Jon stood up. "Do you know who is?"

Brynden's eyes followed Jon's. "I've got one letter of her name, R. Whole lot of help that'll be."

Jon engulfed Brynden in a second hug, this time it was Jon who was crying. Brynden, confused, hugged the other boy back. "What's wrong Jon."

"I thought I was alone."

"What? There are other bastards all over the realm Jon."

Brynden looked into Jon's eyes which he was shocked to see had taken a shade of violet.

"There may be Brynden, but none in Winterfell. None raised by their fathers like we have been. None that I would trust with my life. None like you and I."

"With your life Jon? We've known each other for little under a moon."

Jon nodded. "Aye, but this feels right. Our bond feels right. I'd want no one else at my back."

Brynden's mouth widened into a big smile. He didn't know whether the boy was right or wrong but he didn't want to be alone anymore, Jason he trusted, but that was all. With Jon it felt right, it felt like what he had always wished for himself and Lucas or Hoster. Jon was his brother-by-choice if not by blood.

"Brothers Jon Snow?"

Jon stuck his hand out towards Brynden. "Aye brothers Brynden Blackwood."

Brynden accepted the handshake with a laugh and a shake of the head. "Brynden Rivers."

Tytos chirped in agreement from the branches above. The two boys hugged each other once more before turning away and heading back towards the castle.

It's said an oath before a Heart Tree cannot be broken. Those that do face serious consequences from the old gods themselves. The pair of boys were little over nine namedays old and the rules applied just as strictly to children as to those grown. Those that keep their oaths though, the old gods smiled upon them and blessed their fates. But those were just stories.

Jaime Lannister

Having to ride to Winterfell with Robert and Ned had been one of the worst experiences he could remember. Having to listen to them kiss each other's arse had made him nearly turn around and ride home. But then he'd have to face his father's corpse and that was something he should put off till a later date. He'd also written to Tyrion, how he missed his brother, hoping to provide some sort of comfort to someone he knew he should be with. While his heart told him to return to Casterly Rock and his brother he could feel that would be the wrong decision. He'd told Stark that he'd come to Winterfell and so here he was.

Over the course of the journey he'd spoken to Ned briefly, not too keen on the man, but he'd spoken to the king much more. Robert had at first sulked that Jaime was leaving the kingsguard but after a few bottles of wine and a couple of brothel stops he'd gone right back to his old self. Jaime thought he'd actually been bothered more by the king in this moon's ride rather than his whole tenure guarding the man. He'd also spoken to Jorah Mormont who'd split off from the group and headed back to bear island. The man someone who he'd found to be quite easy to get on with, for a northman at least.

While Jaime hated to admit it the north did have its own warped sense of beauty as well. Vast stretches of untamed and unbothered lands carved themselves throughout the north leading to a wild beauty Jaime didn't think he'd see anywhere else in the seven kingdoms. He'd found some interest in sitting around the fires at night swapping stories with his men but most often he'd returned to his tent for a fitful night of sleep. Ever since learning of his father's death he'd not slept a full night through. Hopefully a proper bed would sort that out.

It was after 28 days of some sailing and straight marching that Winterfell had first come into sight. While Jaime had seen some pictures drawn in books from the vast library at Casterly Rock they did not, to his mind, do justice to the sheer aura the castle gave off. The whole thing seemed designed for defence. Efficiency over elegance. The massive dark walls dwarfed the surrounding area and provided a dark spot in the otherwise pure white land. After another 2 hours ride he'd officially made it to Winterfell.

? 292 A.C

When the boy had first arrived in Winterfell she was unbothered. What interest had she in the comings and goings of minor lords. Besides from telling stories to the Stark children generation to generation she had no true influence in the castle. Her curiosity arose around the boy when she'd seen him spar for the first time. She enjoyed watching young Robb and Jon train and was interested in seeing them stack up against the new arrival.

She'd been shocked when he'd nearly defeated them both and with a move that should have been impossible for a boy of that age. Impossible until she saw the raven that followed after the boy as he was carried to the maester. She doubted her brother was that interested in a young lord so had reasoned it to be his own. A warg in Winterfell, one not of Stark blood was something that interested her. When she had bothered to ask for the boy's name she had been shocked to find out he was from her family. Although, she reasoned, her family was also magical in a way.

She'd tried to speak to the boy but he'd never been alone. The conversation she wished for, something not to be shared with anyone. Perhaps she'd send her grandson to fetch the boy. Aye, tomorrow she'd send Walder to bring the boy to her. Maybe he could be one of the things she was waiting for. For now she slept, she could feel her body getting weaker. She hoped she could hold on to see through everything she needed to. She could not die until Walder had been saved. Anything for her family.