Benjen came awake, his head slightly sore from last night's drinking, he sat up in the bed, looking around his room in the Great Keep and spying the jug he got up out of bed and poured himself a glass of the bearberry juice, quaffing it back in a few gulps to sooth a parched mouth and throat. He discarded the glass and drank from the jug directly, finishing it all to the dregs.

Feeling a little better he pulled off his night shift and pulled on his clothes, the same he wore for his brother's wedding feast the night before. Pulling on his boots he left the room and made his way to the Great Hall, outside a pale and overcast dawn was breaking and even though he was no longer the 'Stark in Winterfell', he still had his duties to perform.

Entering the Great Hall to the nods of several guards he surveyed the wreckage of the night before, about thirty male bodies were scattered around, many snoring their heads off still, others spluttering and gasping as the maids threw buckets of cold water over them to revive the more dead drunk of the bunch.

Umber's mostly, with a few Mountain Clansmen, and even the odd Karstark made up the bulk of the revellers who for one reason or another never left the Great Hall.

Only one bench and a handful of chairs seemed to have been destroyed, a good account considering the size of the gathering and the nature of said gathering, weddings tended to get boisterous from what he could remember of attending a few when he was younger.

"Lord Stark" nodded one of the senior servants "shall I lay out the hall of our guests to Break their Fast?"

"Yes, once this lot is moved on, please."

He left the Great Hall and walked along under the grey skies, a cold wind tugging at his cloak, and out through a gate in the dividing wall and into what was called the 'Great Courtyard', his eyes automatically going to the sparring grounds. No sign of Ned this morning, not that he expected that, his brother was probably still snuggled up nice and warm with his new southron bride. Not that he blamed Ned, if he had ever had the luck, because it would be luck, to get a bride as beautiful as Cersei Lannister, well, he probably would not know what to do...! He snorted in amusement at that, he had lost his virginity a long while back and had even visited the whores in Winter Town a few times while Ned was away at war, so he did know what to do.

No, it was, it was different, he did not know how to talk to people, let alone women, and especially not a women like Cersei Lannister, he would trip over his tongue and mumble, probably blush something fierce as well...

Ned...Ned, when he had first set eyes on Ned when he had returned it had been a shock; he almost did not recognise the brother he had last seen when he had left for the Eyrie all those years ago. Ned stood tall, proud, strong, even inch the conquering hero, the so called 'Black Wolf' and who had been flying his new banner, a black direwolf's head on a field of white, as proud and fierce as he had dismounted and clasped arms with him.

Benjen was a few years younger than Ned but he had trained in the yards diligently every morning, and he had the bulk and attendant strength to show for it, but when Ned grabbed him Benjen had the uncomfortable feeling that his brother could have squeezed him to death without too much trouble.

There had been introductions all round, to Tywin Lannister, to his daughter Cersei, Ned's soon to be wife, Benjen had been captivated by the girl's beauty, but the cool haughtiness in her emerald eye's he had noticed at once. He hoped Ned had not made a mistake in bringing this southron girl into Winterfell to be his wife, suspecting that Ned's head had been turned by her golden hair and perfect skin. He grunted to himself, Ned was probably more interested in her father's Golden Dragons, their correspondence during the war had been filled with plans and the preparations that Ned had wanted him to carry out while the war still raged.

Expensive plans, plans that rally needed the various Lords to be back in the North for them to be properly executed, never mind that Ned, for all that he was Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, would need the cooperation his banner men and Lords to carry them out.

Maester Luwin had been a great help to him in assisting him with the day to day running of both Winterfell and of the North, for as he was the 'Stark in Winterfell' during Ned's absence, the usual disputes and decisions that the Lord of Winterfell had to take for the whole of the North, fell to him.

As the North was at war and with its armies south of the Neck, there had been relatively little for him to do if truth be told, some minor land and border disputes, an uptick in wildling raids that had meant he had had to order ten men from every Keep and Stronghold be sent north to the Wall to temporarily assist the Nights Watch. With the return of the armies of the North, that order had been rescinded a few weeks ago and as more and more of the forces of the North had returned home, things had settled down to normality. At least it had for those who had returned, the North had suffered heavy losses, thousands killed and maimed, as Ned had driven the North mercilessly, attacking at every opportunity the forces of the Crown, winning almost every battle but at a bitter cost, some even whispered at too high a cost.

He had found himself standing before the great kitchens and bakeries of Winterfell, these supplied the household staff and the guards, attached to them was a great dining hall where the staff of Winterfell gathered to eat. There were other kitchens attached to the Great Hall, the Great Keep and the First Keep, but the great Guest House and its dining hall were supplied from the kitchens before him.

He saw her then, the sudden flash of red hair, a lock or two of her wild, copper red mane had come free from her headscarf. Laina was the girls name; well she was no girl, a grown woman of twenty and one, and with a girl child of two years old, with the same coppery hair as her mother. The father of her child, her husband had marched off to war, not even knowing that his wife was with child, he had been killed in one of the battles in the south, Benjen could not remember which one, leaving the girl widowed and without any support. Her husband had been a Baker in Winter Town and his family had turfed the girl out, claiming that she had stolen coin from them. Benjen had presided over the girls case, she had been standing there, pregnant and shivering in rags, his heart had went out to her, the evidence against her was flimsy at best, a lie at worst. So he had given her work in the bakery of Winterfell, and her child had been born healthy and hale.

He did not know why he had found himself here, but a secret part of him did, she caught sight of him and gave him a quick curtsy, but he saw a hint of a half smile on her face, and that made his heart lurch in his chest.

He turned away from the girl and marched into the organised chaos of the great kitchens, he had to check on the supplies, he might need to order more foodstuffs due to the delay in Ned's wedding.