"You saw them with your own eyes?" his brother, the Lord of Winterfell, asked young Ser Waymar.
It had been many years since Benjen had last seen Ned, and his looks reflected that. His closely-trimmed brown beard was beginning to grey, and wrinkles had appeared on his face. He had donned his lord's face, as Lyanna had once referred to it as when talking of their father, and as such his eyes were as cold and hard as the Wall. Had they not been brothers, Benjen would not have noticed the hint of fear and worry that they showed, an emotion they had not shown since he had been sent off to the Vale. Not even when he departed for war with the Targaryens had he looked afraid. Yet now he did. He could not blame the man; when he had seen old Gared's wound, he too had paled in fear.
Besides Ned sat his eldest son and heir, Robb, the young man doing his best to remain calm and collected, after hearing Ser Waymar's story. He was fidgeting with his red-brown hair, and staring at Ser Waymar. He sat beside his brother, Bran, who was listening intensely, a morbid curiosity about the creatures of Old Nan's bedtime stories clearly visible on his face. On Ned's other side, sat Lady Catelyn and her daughters. Cat had aged more gracefully than Ned, yet she too was beginning to reflect her thirty-three years of living. Sansa, on the other hand, was beginning to look just like her mother had done all those years back at Harrenhal. Benjen was certain that her beauty would one day too cause many duels between men. Finally, there was Rickon. Had it not been for him softly crying, Benjen would not have noticed his youngest nephew, who sat on his mother's lap. With his hair red-brown, and his eyes blue, Rickon looked just like Robb had when he was the same age.
Cat was trying to cheer him up, yet that seemed a difficult task when she too was distraught by Ser Waymar's tale. Sansa seemed hesitant to believe the tale, conflicted as she was between believing a noble knight, as her upbringing had no doubt taught her, and questioning any mention of the monsters from the Age of Heroes. There was too much of the South in that girl, Benjen thought.
Arya, contrary to anyone present, was grinning - probably not fully aware of the seriousness of the situation. If he hadn't known any better, he would've thought the young brown-haired girl to be Lyanna's daughter. Yet as it was, Lyanna's child was the one who stood next to him. He looked to Jon, the so-called bastard of Winterfell, and saw him deep in thought. His long face was as serious as his supposed father, yet Benjen saw too a willingness to act, and to defeat this threat - unsurprisingly, as the boy had often talked of his wish to join the Night's Watch
The Valeman nodded solemnly, "Aye, my lord, I did." he said, bringing Benjen out of his thoughts, before continuing on, "I swear it on the honour of my house, as well as on my noble father, Lord Yohn Royce."
"And you say your sword shattered when faced with this... monster?" Robb asked. Ser Waymar shook his head,
"No, my lord, it was my companion's sword that shattered. Gared, his name is."
Was, Benjen thought to himself bitterly. Although the man had been alive when they departed Castle Black, Maester Aemon assured him that he would not make it for the next full moon. He wondered how many other rangers would die at a White Walker's hands before the threat was vanquished. Dozens? All of them? All the while the king sat in the south, feasting and whoring. How Ned could befriend such a man would forever be a mystery to Benjen, especially with how his actions had led to Lyanna's death.
"Gared? This was the man that was injured, no?" Ned questioned the young ranger who shivered in return, prompting Benjen to answer for him,
"Aye, my lord. Gared is under Maester Aemon's supervision, yet the Maester told us he may not live to see our return. The wound was unlike anything I'd ever seen. Frozen, it was, with the ice slowly spreading across his upper body. He received his wound when his sword shattered, leaving him defenceless"
Benjen remembered when Ser Waymar had arrived at the gates of Castle Black, carrying a mortally wounded Gared in front of him on his horse. The knight had been shivering from the cold, and muttering things to himself. He had seemed mad, and Benjen had almost given up all hope of finding out what had happened when he returned to his sense. Gared was not as lucky. Not only had he been mortally wounded, he too had lost his mind - permanently. He repeated two words constantly, choosing to spend all his energy on it: White Walkers.
Ned was slowly stroking his chin, allowing silence to dominate the great hall of Winterfell. He looked to his wife and his children before he spoke again.
"Lady Catelyn, escort the children to their chambers. Leave only Robb and Jon with me. This is no talk for children." he said, with Catelyn dutifully rushing the children out. Arya did her best to remain seated, fighting her mother, until she locked eyes with her father. Whatever she saw in his eyes was enough for her to surrender to her mother, and allow herself to be dragged out. Benjen didn't miss the sour look Cat shot Jon on her way out.
Once the doors closed, Ned turned to Ser Rodrik, who stood behind Benjen and Waymar.
"Ser Rodrik," Ned said, "How many mounted men can you have ready for me within an hour?"
Ser Rodrik pondered the question for a moment before answering, "Fifty, my lord. Give me another hour, and I'll have two hundred for you." he offered, tugging his large white whiskers.
"No," Ned said, getting to his feet, a gesture which Robb followed hesitantly, "Time is of the essence. Have the fifty men ready within an hour at the main gate, armed with our best weapons, yet wearing only light armour - I'll not have us slowed down by heavy plate." he said, turning to Robb and Jon individually, "Robb, Jon," he said, "You'll join the men at the gate. Say your farewells, and ready for the journey. If you're late, we'll leave without you. Do you understand?" he asked. The boys nodded in return, before running off together, silent as the dead.
His brother walked down to him, until they were only an arm's length apart. He looked Ser Waymar up and down, "Your bravery and skill may have saved us all, Ser Waymar." he said encouragingly, "I remember when you were born - Robert and I were visiting Runestone at the time. Your father said to us, that you would one day achieve great things. He did not explain what, or how he knew, yet he was certain of it. It would seem he was right." Ned said with a slight smile. He put a hand on Ser Waymar's shoulder, "Remember your home now, Ser. Remember your family. It is them you fight for. It is for them that you must remain strong and brave. Honour them."
Ser Waymar seemed to have grown a few inches, and he held his chin high, a smile on his face. "Thank you, my lord," he said, "I'll remember your words," he said, causing Ned's smile to grow. His brother then turned to Benjen.
"You can ride ahead if you wish, or you can stay and wait an hour for us. I know the boys would love your company on our travels," he said, causing Benjen to smile.
"Are you trying to tell me that you too have missed me?" he asked teasingly. They both chuckled, before Benjen continued, "We'll stay another hour. We both need some food before we leave - we've been on the road for days, with little rest."
Ned nodded, "Of course. Forgive me, friends, yet I too must say my farewells and prepare the castle for my absence. If you want food, go to the kitchens and grab whatever you'd like. Tell the cooks that I shall cover the cost of the food." he said, before he too left the great hall, leaving Ser Waymar and Benjen alone.
Ser Rodrik, ever efficient, had managed to gather a hundred men, twice as much as he had promised. They were now preparing to depart from Winterfell, yet awaited their lord. While ahorse, his niece Arya approached him slowly, her eyes on the ground.
"Uncle Benjen?" she asked hesitantly, her voice betraying the sadness she was trying to hide. Benjen shifted in his seat to look at her.
"Yes, sweet girl?" he asked.
"I was wondering..." she said, before trailing off.
Benjen dismounted and knelt down to look at her, "What's the matter, Arya?" he asked concernedly.
"It's Jon," she said, "I know he wants to join the Night's Watch and leave me here all alone. I know that it's his choice, but can you forbid him from doing so? You're the first ranger, right? You can tell him that the Night's Watch isn't accepting new members, or..." she said, yet stopped when Benjen put a hand on her shoulder.
"I cannot force Jon to remain at Winterfell," he said, disappointing Arya, "Yet I will do everything in my power to make Jon reconsider. Since we're all going to be at the Wall anyway, mayhaps he'll be persuaded to remain a free man a little longer. Does that sound good to you?" he asked kindly. Arya nodded, some happiness having returned to her face, before she jumped onto him to give him a hug.
"Please don't get killed by the dead," she said bluntly, causing Benjen to laugh in surprise.
"I'll do my best. Now go to your mother, she'll want you close by when we depart," he said, with Arya obeying. As she ran, he looked to the end of the courtyard, where he saw Ned appearing, flanked by Jon and Robb, all clad lightly in mail. They mounted their horses and joined him at the gate.
"How many men, Ser Rodrik?" Ned asked the Master-at-arms.
"A hundred, my lord." the knight said proudly. Ned smiled.
"Well done, Ser. I'm glad to know that my wife and children will be assisted by as capable a man as you in my absence," he said, before riding to the front of the column of horsemen. Benjen looked at his brother and noticed for the first time how similar he looked to their father. Hopefully, he would not meet a similar fate, he thought grimly.
"Men of Winterfell," Ned said, his voice carrying itself all the way across the castle, despite him not shouting, "Today we ride to the aid of our brethren at the Night's Watch. Earlier in the day, I received dire news from my brother, Benjen, and Ser Waymar Royce. They spoke of a terror awaking beyond the wall. A terror which we have not seen for thousands of years. I speak of the White Walkers." he said, causing widespread murmuring. Had it come from any other man, Benjen knew that the townsfolk would've declared this man a madman or a liar. Yet when his brother spoke, all listened, and all believed what he said. He could've said that snow was purple, and they would merely consider their own eyesight poor. Ned continued, "I know how much this may frighten some. Yet I promise you, that we shall seek the truth of this matter, and discover whether there is any truth to it. And I promise you that if there is, then we SHALL PREVAIL!" he roared, causing everyone around them to cheer loudly. He then turned his attention to the hundred men that were to join him, all of whom seemed suddenly nervous at having discovered the purpose of their journey.
"I've chosen the one hundred best men in Winterfell to accompany us to the Wall. I chose you for your valour and skill at arms. The last men that fought the White Walkers were men like you, normal men. And they won. So too shall you, and like the men from the age of heroes, you too shall claim great glory for your feats of valour. Men of Winterfell, are you with me?" he asked loudly. The men roared, hammering their swords against their shields. Shouts of 'Winterfell' and 'Stark' could be heard all through the castle, as they rode out from the main gate, their road leading North.
Benjen could not help but smile, despite the challenges he knew were ahead of them. For the first time in decades, the Night's Watch would receive the aid they so desperately craved. For the first time in centuries, there was hope for victory over all the threats beyond the Wall.