Chapter 9

Notes:

Warning: Cannon typical language and talk of era specific religious punishment methods. Nothing too graphic.

(See the end of the chapter formore notes.)

Chapter Text

(North – Winterfell)

Robert Arryn sat alone in his guest room in the family wing of his uncle and aunt's castle. He had never met either member of his family, his father had talked about his uncle, but knew only rumors about his aunt. Lord Jon Arryn was not a man for spreading rumors, he'd oft tell Robert that such things were unbecoming. He was more than happy when Mya came to visit him, she'd only stayed briefly when Uncle Ned escorted her here, Aunt Catelyn had been very crossed seeing his friend.

Aunt Catelyn would not believe him that his mother favored Mya who normally escorted people to the Eyrie. Mya would often tell him stories about King Robert who happened to be Mya's father and his Uncle Eddard or Ned as she called him. He'd wondered why she called his uncle that and referred to him as uncle. She'd only say that Uncle Ned made sure she and her mother had been well taken care of. Robert knew Mya was base born, his mother referred to her as Stone enough for him to understand that.

"Robin, you still awake?" Robert turned to the door to find Bran standing there in a sleep shirt, Robert was wearing one of his cousin's sleep shirts, as they were warmer than the ones, he had brought with him, "I'm going to Rickon's room. Jon promised to read the Humbling of the Greenhand to us."

"I've never heard that tale before," Robert slid out of his borrowed bed and gingerly walked to the door. His guards had been remarking on how much healthier he'd been doing on the trip north. He'd walked with Princess Myrcella and her brother a few times, even rode with the help of his guards. As soon as he exited the room behind Bran, his cousin's unnamed dire wolf was there to help support him.

Bran smiled as he took to his cousin's other side, "Luckily your room is closer to Rickon's than mine is."

"Yeah," Robert had been fearful of the wolves when he first arrived, much as his mother had made him fearful of everything from swords to horses, things his cousins found as normal everyday activities were new experiences for him. As they made their way down the hall to Rickon's room, which was only about a dozen paces or so, Robert mused, "Uncle Ned and Aunt Catelyn were arguing again."

Bran rolled his eyes, "Mother makes father angry like that sometimes. Usually, it's about Jon, but she stopped saying strange stuff about him around us after father warned her, he'd send her to Riverrun permanently if she didn't stop."

That was something Robert was familiar with. Mama's friend Peter would warn her that his father might send her back to Riverrun if she didn't behave just right. Though mama's friend was also kind of weird, he'd have liked to see papa send him through the moon door. Only mama knew Robert had watched the few executions Robert's father had overseen during his rare visits to the Eyrie over the years.

Upon reaching Rickon's room Bran's wolf saw them to Rickon's bed before joining the pile of fur that was the white wolf Ghost and the black wolf Shaggy Dog. Rickon was excited by Robert's arrival, "Robin, Robin," Rickon bounced on the bed, making it hard for Robert and Bran to take their places, they were expected as extra pillows and blankets had been piled at the foot of Rickon's bed.

"Calm down Rickon," Jon moved from his cot by the window to help the younger boys arrange their bedding, "You are supposed to be settling down, not getting stirred back up."

"Story Jon, story now," the boy had a pleading expression on his face before remembering his manners, "Please Jon."

"Okay pup," Jon gave a final check that both Bran and Robert were properly tucked in before returning to his cot and grabbing the tome resting there. He returned to the foot of the bed the boys laid on and leaned against the post before opening the tome, "Let us see, you wanted which story tonight?"

"Humm…Hum..ling," Rickon sounded out a word he wasn't familiar with.

Robert pushed himself up on one elbow, "I think he means humbling."

"Right," Rickon sat up, "Humbling of the green…green something."

Bran took pity this time, "Hand, Rickon, it's Greenhand the first king of Westeros. One of the only houses older than ours, though they have been gone for three hundred years."

This made Rickon huff before turning to Jon, "Humbling of the Greenhand."

Smirking Jon made a show of flipping through pages, though he'd bookmarked the story after its request the previous night, "The tale of the Humbling of the Greenhand…" Jon went into the telling of how Brandon the Builder and Lann the Clever grew tired of the way the Greenhand looked down on them and treated them as lesser. This was regardless of the fact the Builder held more lands than his liege lord, and that Lann controlled more gold. Jon deepened his voice as he emulated what he thought Greenhand would sound like, "Land holds only value if you can use it, and Brandon the Builder holds nothing but frozen wastes, and gold does not fill empty bellies what good does it do Lann the Clever if his people starve. My lands are plentiful and can feed all the peoples of my realm, even those who live under the rule of those upstarts."

Robert frowned, "But the Greenhand is wrong, the North isn't a wasteland, and you can use gold to buy food."

Jon chuckled, "I don't write these stories My Lord Arryn, I only read them." Robert accepted this explanation and Jon carried on, altering his voice to sound a bit more like Lord Lannister, as Lann was supposedly the man's distant ancestor, "Who does Greenhand think he is? To ridicule us, a lion of the plains and a wolf of the forest. We cannot let this insult go unanswered." Jon then deepened his voice to emulate his father, "Then we do not, give me five years and send me every worker you can find, pay them well and buy all the food you can from our southern neighbors."

"What was Brandon the Builder planning to do?" Bran asked with a yawn.

Jon noticed the boys' eyes were all starting to droop, "It was a plan that made even Lann the Clever envious. Brandon did what he was known for the best. He built wonders. To guard his lands and utilize the natural defenses he built the impregnable Moat Cailin. For Lann he could not build such a fortress as the Westerlands have few natural defenses which would benefit from such things, enemies could just avoid them. So, at the Rock, he installed massive gates that when shut could not be opened from the outside and designed other defenses which made taking the Rock impossible." The boys patiently waited, too close to sleep to form a response, but too captivated to completely surrender to sleep.

Jon continued telling the story, recounting how Lann and Brandon sent word to Greenhand that they would no longer submit to his rule. Enraged the King marched first on the Rock but found his armies could not breach the defenses. Instead, he tormented the land in hopes of drawing out Lann's forces. When that would not work, he left men to watch Lann before moving to confront Brandon. After languishing through the Neck, Greenhand found his way barred by a massive fortress, inadequate land was available for him to properly field his army. It was a massacre without one Northman stepping a toe beyond the gate of the Moat.

Looking up from the tome Jon saw the boys had fallen asleep, closing the book he cautiously slid off the bed. Looking to where the three wolves were also asleep before the hearth. Giving the room a cursory once over he noticed the door was ajar, frowning he approached reaching down for the dagger Uncle Benjen had given him for his eleventh name day. Cautiously he listened for any sounds that would give away someone standing on the other side. When he heard nothing, he slowly pulled it open, ready to slam it against anyone lurking there.

To his surprise the hall was empty, only the shadows made by the flickering torches made any movement. Sticking his head out, he looked down either stretch of hall, but there was no one, he could hear the steady padding of patrolling guardsmen, but otherwise, everything seemed as it should. Jon then closed the door and latched it, returning to his cot he checked that his long sword was leaning against the head of his cot before sliding his dagger back to its place in his boot. He decided that Bran and Robert must not have properly closed the door when they'd come into the room.

(Down the Hall)

Catelyn was breathing heavily, Ned's hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. She had very nearly cried out when her husband had appeared behind her and dragged her from the door to her youngest's room. The moniker Quiet Wolf was not only relevant to his reserved use of words. She had not heard either him or his wolf approach.

Speaking of said wolf, Lyanna was glaring at her with those far too intelligent eyes. The same eyes stared at her most nights before she went to sleep and haunted her dreams. The Direwolf had been her torment since the day it followed Ned back to Winterfell. It gave one of its pups to a child not of her womb, giving the bastard sign of legitimacy to the barbarians she'd been surrounded by since she came here. She had tried to breach the subject of sending the boy to the Watch since word of the King's visit had first arrived. Now, the boy was the squire to the Commander of the Kingsguard and even given a place of superiority over her son who was made a page. Granted Bran is only ten and would not be able to squire for another four years.

Her thoughts returned to the here and now as Ned's hand slipped from her mouth, the other one which had been used to press her to him and give him leverage to drag her into Robert Arryn's empty guest room also released her, "Jon has closed their door," He then turned to her as she recovered and looked at him with a glare, "What were you thinking? Deciding who and who not they are allowed to associate with and now spying on them? I have enough to deal with, without you causing more trouble because of what some Septon claimed over a century ago."

"What would you know?" Catelyn snapped, "It is proven that bastards are ambitious and crave what is not theirs."

"Proven?" Ned nearly laughed, "by who? You forget Cat, I was raised in the Vale, I didn't go to one of your septs to pray nor would I ever convert to the Faith. I spoke with the Septon at the Eyrie on occasion, we had a few heated discussions. I had to remind him a time or two that I was the son of the Lord Paramount of the North, or he might have tried having me turned over to your Most Devout. Your scriptures have none of this vile bias towards bastards, claims of their evil natures. That was added by your High Septon after the Blackfyre Rebellion, not even two centuries ago."

Catelyn sneered, "What about your people? They treat bastards no differently."

"We don't?" Her husband crossed his arms, "Jon is an example of how the North treats base-born children, Cat. There are cases where children born on the wrong side of the sheets are not treated as well. Most recognize every child as a gift from the gods, a blessing on the house of their father. Your behavior towards Jon is what alienates you the most to the wives of my banners Cat. Understandably, you do not embrace him as you would your own, but why alienate him, ostracize him, these are the things they do not understand. Did Maege Mormont not try and explain this to you when she and her daughters first visited after you came to Winterfell?"

In truth, the matriarch of House Mormont had tried her best to befriend Catelyn. She had appreciated the older woman's attempt, but upon realizing that all of Maege's daughters were in truth bastards, she'd been hesitant to continue associating with the woman. She had maintained a respectful correspondence but fell back on her learnings and heeded Septa Mordane's word over any other.

Ned didn't need her to speak to know the thoughts going through her head. The man was too perceptive once he learned enough about someone. It was at times terrifying, and both Septon Chayle and Septa Mordane learned this swiftly when their attempts at conversions were put to an end by a visit to the heart tree. Catelyn knew not the conversation, only that both servants of the faith had not said a word against the faith of the Old Gods again. Chayle had even taken to serving as a librarian and assisting Maester Luwin in giving lessons to her children.

Ned sighed, "You didn't even hear Jon moving to check the door, did you?"

"No," She snipped, "he must get that from you."

She knew her husband would roll his eyes at the old needling when Jon was brought into conversation with such a remark. Instead, the Lord of Winterfell exhaled harshly, "Even in summer there is snow on the ground Cat, you know this. For generations, we have hunted in these forests. I have taught both Robb and Jon to walk softly, to not give away your position to your prey." He sighed, releasing whatever ire he held as his normally unflappable calm returned, "Now tell me Cat, what were you doing?"

She indicated the empty bed in the room, "I came to check on Robert, he is all I have left of Lysa. When he was not there I got concerned and started checking the other rooms. I heard Jon say his name, I only meant to look in and see everything was all right." She sat on the bed, "Ned, the way the boys looked at him. I know, in my heart that Jon would never harm them, it isn't in him. Then I remember my lessons, I don't know how the Tyrells allow themselves to be surrounded by bastards, let alone those of House Martell."

Ned sighed, "Nymeria and Sarella are both perfectly nice young women, as long as you don't insult them or endanger someone they care for." At Catelyn's confused look Ned sighed, "Lady Sarella Sand caught me while I was speaking with Luwin, she had a rather lengthy list of questions. A few I had to pass off to Luwin to answer. I almost regret granting her permission to peruse the library." He continued with his point, "Jory came to me this evening. He informed me Arya tried slipping out of the maester's tower before he caught her. He was trying to get her to return to her cot, but it was Lady Nymeria who achieved it in the end, leaving Jory to remain at his post watching Joffrey. Apparently, she sat with Arya for most of the afternoon, then proceeded to take Sir Loras to task for raising a hand to a girl."

"I thought Theon already dealt with that matter," Catelyn frowned remembering hearing the sounds from the training yard as she prayed at her sept for her youngest daughter's recovery.

"Lady Margaery informed that Nymeria was not satisfied with the outcome seeing as Theon did not damage Sir Loras' face. Do not make a deal out of the bruising the next you see him; she did refrain from doing anything permanent."

(North – Winter Town)

Oberyn sighed as his small party reached the Smoking Log, the alehouse was not unfamiliar to him. Years earlier he had ventured north, he intended to present himself before Lord Stark and ask forgiveness for his failures. He would not say he'd been a coward and fled south, so much as he drank too much and slept with too many whores along the way. He arrived to only learn Eddard had left Winterfell and was visiting his major banners, he'd be gone for two moons at least. The brother to the Prince of Dorne could not wait around for two moons, so chose to postpone the apologies until next, he came north.

Well, that would be the here and now. Oberyn looked to his party, the others were mostly worn out from the long trek, they'd only rested briefly at Moat Cailin before setting forth. Due to the identities of two of their members, stopping at the main castles had been impossible. They could hide Daenerys simply by covering her hair and shielding her eyes. Jorah though was another matter entirely. The loyal banners of House Reed had identified the man easily and warned that any man of the North would be able to figure out who Jorah was. He had the looks of House Mormont, and there was only one male member of Jorah's age.

Their party entered the alehouse, Jorah pulling his hood down to obscure his face. The ale master looked up from work he'd been doing behind the counter, "Seat yourselves," the man eyed Daenerys, "keep the girl close, we get all sorts in here."

Jorah replied, they thought it best a Northern accent be heard instead of either Dornish or Essosi, "Thank you, friend," he made a point of looking around the room, "business slow today. Thought with the King's party ensconced in Winterfell you'd be busier."

"You'd think," the master scoffed, "that damn squid Theon. Know better than talking bad about my betters, but that shite went and stepped on the wolf's tail he did. Been sneaking down here for years, one day I let my boy run the alehouse and he forgets to kick the squid out before the hour of the wolf. Lord Stark sent his boy down here to collect the Squid, then the Quiet Wolf came down wanting to know how a lad like Theon Greyjoy was permitted to stay all night in such an establishment."

"Damn," Jorah turned to the others, "we can at least warm ourselves by the hearth, but there's no ale or mead to be had here."

Oberyn blinked, "No ale in an alehouse? Is that possible?"

"Northern custom my prince," Jorah sighed, "no one below the age of eight and ten is to be served in such an establishment after the hour of ghosts. Logical thinking is, the only reason for anyone younger than that being in an alehouse is to collect their father. Similarly, no one other than guests of an inn are to be served after the hour of the wolf."

Samwell hummed, "We have similar laws in the Reach, but the minimum age is ten and four, as knights and squires are legally adults and can be served no matter how late it is."

Oberyn grimaced, "As interesting as this is, I must protest, where can we get a drink, we've been on the road for months."

"I still got some wine, and a cask of some sort of pisswater they make in the Riverlands," the ale master grimaced, "I'd not suggest that one, think it's been in the backroom since the last time Lord Hoster Tully visited. That was before young Brandon Stark was born, so well over ten years."

"Thanks for the warning," Oberyn spoke up, "the wine, is it a Northern vintage or something more southern?"

"Dornish Red," the ale master sighed, "a mistake by Old Poole, anyone with any sense would know better. Couldn't dump it on me fast enough. If Lord Stark had caught wind of it, he'd been right cross with Vayon."

Oberyn chuckled, "Lord Stark have a problem with anything Dornish?"

"You are not from around these parts." The ale master leaned closer as he poured a pitcher of wine, "years back, the guards at Winterfell were talking about the Lord's boy, the one who got no mother. They had been telling tales that the boy's mother was Lady Ashara Dayne, and gossip spread from the castle to the town and deep into the woods. Rumor gets back to Lord Stark, and he went and had words with those guards telling tales. All sudden like, them guards not so talkative about the boy's parentage."

Oberyn noticed Jorah tense as a group of men entered the alehouse, all wearing the colors and direwolf of House Stark. The apparent leader of the group called out, "Master, round of whatever you got. The boys are tired, and we still have to report to Lord Stark."

"Aye," the master called back, "be with you lot in a moment, seeing to these travelers first."

"Oh, don't mind us," Oberyn turned to the newcomers, "You look as road weary as my companions and I, you've been traveling long to return to Winterfell."

One of the men snorted, "Where ya been, under a rock? We been combing the Wolf's Woof for sign of the Kingslayer. The craven sister fucker ran instead of facing the justice of the king."

"Is that so," Oberyn grabbed the pitcher of wine the man placed on the counter, "I hear Tywin Lannister is visiting Winterfell, what does the Old Lion have to say about his children and these events?"

The leader of the men snorted, "Who knows, the man struts around like he owns Winterfell. Only defers to Lord Stark but seems to be scheming like any other southerner."

Oberyn chuckled, "I'd be offended my good man, but truths I scheme with the best of them, but where are my manners." Oberyn placed the pitcher on the table, "I have failed to introduce myself. Prince Oberyn Nymeros Martell, of Dorne."

The men immediately stood, the leader blanching, "Pardon your grace," he gave a cursory bow of the head, "Harwin, of Winterfell. We'd no word of your coming. I'll have a man ride up to the castle to inform of your arrival."

"Thank you," Oberyn motioned to his companions, "I travel with young Samwell Tarly, and Thoros of Myr, some other companions joined us in the Riverlands. We are hopeful of a pleasant visit to Winterfell."

Harwin seemed to notice Oberyn had not named all his companions, "You failed to mention the names of your companions your grace. Who's the girl and her escorts? We cannot let unknown people enter Winterfell."

The door swung open and a large man walked in Oberyn was surprised to see Areo Hotah, behind him with the assistance of a cane was Oberyn's brother. Prince Doran Nymeros Martell frowned, "It seems you beat us here brother."

Next to enter was a rather small man using a trident as a makeshift crutch, "I vouch for these visitors Harwin, you have no need to question them."

"Lord Reed?" Harwin nearly fell backward, had Oberyn, and one of Harwin's men, not steady him, "My lord, we had not heard you were coming to Winterfell."

Oberyn noticed a mirthful smirk on Lord Reed's face, "I caught a ride with Lord Manderly." Lord Reed turned to Oberyn's companions, "We should not keep Ned waiting, he is called the Quiet Wolf, not the Patient Wolf." Oberyn noticed the contemplative look on Doran's face as this northern lord seemed to easily control the situation. Lord Reed waited for Oberyn and his party to exit the alehouse before looking to the Winterfell guards, "Come along Harwin, you and your men should not tarry here."

"Of course Lord Reed," Harwin and his men filed out, quickly collecting their horses and joining with the column of Manderly guards.

Oberyn noticed a distinct lack in Dornish guards, "Brother, you have no men with you."

"They are coming along with a second column," Doran sighed, "it is colder than I calculated, my choices were to wait for them to all acclimate to the weather or leave them to follow. Lord Manderly assures they will be escorted here, and in fact, should have set out from White Harbor by now."

"Uncle," Oberyn frowned as a young man wearing a cloak with their house sigil road up to them, "How should we do this? If Daenerys and I reveal ourselves, the King might act without giving us time to talk." Oberyn blinked, this was not Viserys, and the exiled prince would not refer to Doran as uncle. The young man noticed his confusion and pushed back his hood, "She said you were the clever one, you haven't figured it out yet uncle?"

Oberyn sent a furtive glance at the Winterfell guards, but they were busy speaking to their Manderly counterparts. He then turned to the young man and whispered a name, "Aegon?" The young man gave a curt nod, "How?"

Doran responded, "Spiders, Griffons, and Falling Stars."

Aegon chipped in, "Also some assistance from a Quiet Wolf who didn't realize he was helping."

(North – Winterfell)

King Robert sat in the seat of House Stark, watching closely as more visitors came to present themselves. He'd asked Ned how many more guests they could house in Winterfell, at the rate they were going, they could hold a Great Council. All they needed now was Renly, old Hoster Tully, and Balon Greyjoy, and every Lord Paramount would be in attendance at Winterfell. Technically speaking they'd also need Lord Royce, he'd sent the man a letter naming him Lord Protector of the Vale until Lord Robert Arryn either came of age or passed as many thought he was too sickly to reach majority.

Baratheon was no longer one to think that way. His young namesake was thriving at Winterfell as he'd never had in all the time he'd known the boy. He ran with Ned's younger boys all about the place, they were constantly underfoot, and Sandor had even had to chase them out the storage room where the training yard equipment was stored. Sandor had taken to assisting Ser Rodrik in the training yard. Seeing as the Hound spent most of his time training Gendry there, it was bound to happen.

The first guests to present themselves were only half surprising, many of Ned's banners had been making their way to Winterfell since the King had taken residency, ostensibly awaiting the capture of the Kingslayer, though he'd decided to remain and be a guest for the union of House Stark and House Tyrell. Lord Wyman Manderly hobbled in escorted by his second son and granddaughters, he made his greetings to his liege lord and Robert before moving to the table his eldest son sat at. With Wyman had come Lord Howland Reed, Robert was surprised to see the man, whom all reports claimed had not left the Neck since the rebellion. Similarly, Howland made his greetings before moving to where his son and daughter sat, they had arrived only a few days earlier.

Next to present themselves were basically the remaining members of House Martell who were not present already in attendance at Winterfell. Oberyn had made a big show of thanking Lord Stark for showing his daughters' such gracious hospitality. Robert frowned as three people in their party had not removed their hoods. Two of them moved off with Prince Oberyn, joining the table Nymeria and Sarella had taken next to the one containing the Reach guards. Loras and Margaery were seated with the Starks.

The remaining hooded figure, a woman by the looks of it remained with Prince Doran, and three other people. Robert recognized the Lord of Blackhaven, Ser Berric as one of his family's banners among the Marchers. He vaguely remembered hearing Ser Berric was betrothed to a member of House Dayne. A rarity seeing as the hostilities between the Dornish Houses and Marcher Houses. Berric had also taken the son of Lord Dayne as his squire.

Prince Doran stepped forward, "Your Grace, I beg your forgiveness for bringing this matter before you, but it is quite serious, and I will need both your and Lord Stark's assistance in rectifying it to ensure my kingdom remains stable. As you may or may not have heard Lord Dayne became ill recently, I am sorry to report that he has since gone to walk among the Old Gods."

Robert noticed Ned's frown and waited for his friend to speak, "Lord Dayne returned to the Old Gods?"

"In his final days," Doran explained, a hint of sadness, "he desired to join with his ancestors, though he told me he believed it mattered not the gods you believed in. He hoped to see his brother there, though he feared Arthur may be lost among the hells."

"Arthur held to his vows," Ned responded, "he dines with his brother and sister on the bounty of earth and tree."

A smirk appeared on the Dornishman's face, "Ah, this brings me to my first bit of business." Doran held his hand out towards the hooded woman, "You are mistaken Lord Stark," the woman pulled back her hood to reveal raven locks of hair and amethyst eyes, "Lady Ashara will not be dining with her brothers in the halls of the dead, because she still lives."

"Ash?" Ned stood from his seat next to Robert, "How is this possible?"

Stepping forward Ashara knelt, "Lord Stark, I will explain all in private, you most of all deserve my reasons. I wish all could be explained as such, but there are pieces that we need," her eyes narrowed disgustedly at Robert who for the first time in his life felt true fear, "his grace to give his blessings to."

Robert frowned, noticing the boy with Berric, whom he assumed was Lord Dayne's son, the new Lord Dayne as it were, was tensing slightly. Something was off with the boy, he kept sending cautious glances toward Ned, and the group of older Stark children who sat with Lady Stark. Jon was standing next to Selmy like a good squire. Robert's eyes widened as he flicked between Jon, Robb, and the Dayne Boy. All three were close in age, the Dayne boy was born about three or four years after the rebellion if memory served, not that Robert kept tabs on such things. He remembered the Old Falcon musing that if no main branch Daynes were born they could use the belief Ashara was Jon's mother to legitimize the boy as a Dayne and have a loyal man in Dorne.

There was another similarity between the three, one not related to age. A similarity that Robert knew was shared by little Bran and Rickon. Lord Dayne had the long face of a Stark and not just any Stark. The boy's nose and chin were a match to a face Robert strongly remembers from his years growing up in the Vale. Robert stood from his chair, "Boy, come forward."

Lord Dayne swallowed hard before moving to stand next to Prince Doran. The prince put a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder as Robb moved away from the table and approached the physically younger boy. Robb suddenly turned to the raised area and glared at his father, "Father?"

Standing next to each other the similarities were startling. Robert looked at his friend to see the man was just as confused as his son. Robert snorted, "So you actually did have one."

This comment drew a confused murmur from the gathered lords and nobles, and glare from Ned. Eddard Stark stood and looked at Ashara, "How is this possible?" He frowned as he stepped down to where the boys stood, "I received an announcement from Lord Dayne. His son was born four years after the rebellion."

Ashara bowed her head, "He was born early, he was so very small. The maester did not believe he'd live to see his first name day. My brother had forbidden me from telling you about him when you came to return Dawn. I begged and pleaded with him to relent, but he was as headstrong as Arthur."

Prince Doran sighed, "This is why I needed yours and his grace's assistance. Lord Stark, you are the true birth father of Edric Sand, formerly known as Edric Dayne. Your son was stolen and illegally placed as the legitimate son of Lord and Lady Dayne. I have known Edric since he was very young, he is a good lad, and his honor is without question. I ask your leave to request he be legitimized as a member of House Dayne, the House of his mother, to claim Starfall as is his right by decree of his maternal uncle the late Lord Dayne."

Eddard wiped a hand down his face before looking at the boy, "Edric, is this what you desire?"

"I was raised without knowledge of my uncle's deeds," Edric knelt, "I ask you, Lord Stark, as the man who sired me, to know you hold the fate and reputation of House Dayne in your hands. If I am forced to step down, Starfall will be turned over to the Daynes of High Hermitage. This will upset the politics of Dorne and could even destabilize the region resulting in a Yronwood uprising. It is not ambition or avarice which brings me here, it is the duty to my house and my liege."

A shout came up from the table Robert knew House Umber was seated at, "How by the Others frosty balls did Ned and Ashara have a blond whelp?"

Robert noticed Edric grimace, "This is not my hair."

Doran sighed, "It's a common fashion among young boys in Dorne to shave one's hair and wear a wig. It helps with sand fleas and other pests, especially if you travel often." At Edric's look, Doran nodded.

Edric reached up and pulled his head covering off along with the wig of pale blonde hair he'd been wearing, "My hair is just starting to grow back," and indeed there was a dusting of dark hairs just starting to appear in patches across his scalp.

(Later)

The greetings had barely ended when Edric found himself dragged away by Lord Stark's eldest son and daughter. They had swiftly been joined by Jon, who was looking uncomfortable as they seemed to be making a beeline for the crypts. Within moments they began walking down aisles of tombs, down a flight of stairs and finally stopping by a nondescript-looking statue whose face had not eroded away but been smashed by a heavy object.

The daughter, Sansa he'd been informed, looked at the tomb, "This is Cregan's uncle's tomb." She promptly grabbed Edric and they moved down the aisle. She nodded at the more detailed statue, "This will do." She then looked to the boys, "What in the seven hells is going on?"

Robb and Jon could only blink at Sansa's sudden loss of decorum. Robb looked to Jon, "So if Edric is father's son with Lady Ashara. That begs the question, who was your mother."

Jon grimaced, "Father did the same thing as Edric's uncle, but for a good reason."

Both Robb and Sansa paled, ready to contradict their brother's words, but were halted by Edric's words, "It's not the same Jon, our father had a good reason, to protect you, but he did not steal you from your parents. Your father was already dead, and your mother put you in father's arms. Father told my mother about the promise, my mother knew the truth of your birth."

Robb frowned in confusion as Sansa started looking at each of them. She noticed that Robb and Edric looked more similar, especially if you discounted the blonde wig Edric wore for warmth and to hide his shaved head. While not obviously dissimilar, Jon did not share certain features with their other brothers. Jon's nose was thinner and more angular, his chin more pointed while Robb's was more rounded.

Robb frowned at Edric, "What truth?"

"Eddard Stark is not my father," Jon watched the confusion on his siblings faces, "at least not the one who sired me. He has been a father to me in all the other ways it matters, and I will always see him as such. He found me in Dorne, in a tower, a tower he also found my mother, your aunt. Lyanna Stark was my mother; I favor the look of her house over that of my father's house. Ser Barristan says he sees some of my father in me, but it's the same behaviors people claim I inherited from Lord Stark."

"Don't," Robb stopped Jon who looked uncertain, "don't call him that." Robb shook his head, "As you said, he has been your father in all the ways that have mattered. If Edric can call him that for only knowing the truth for a few turns of the moon, you have the right to call him father."

Sansa leaned against the direwolf carved next to Cregan Stark's statue, "What does this mean? Did Prince Rhaegar actually rape Aunt Lyanna? Is Jon the heir to the throne? Are we in danger if the King finds out?"

Jon grabbed Sansa's shoulders to calm her down, "King Robert already knows, he has for years. He knew father would never seek to put me on the throne, figured anyone trying would bring the Quiet Wolf down to savage them and end their lines. Why are people in the south so afraid of father he is known for being honorable and just?"

Edric snorted, "Tearing down a nearly three-hundred-year dynasty will do that. You also realize he's the one leader of the rebellion who never lost a battle right." The others looked at him blankly, "Apparently not." Edric sighed, "Every fight father was a part of was a victory for the rebel lords. Battle of the Bells, Battle of the Trident, he ended the siege of Storm's End and was given the honors of defeating my uncle, though mom says there was more to that than most know. There's also the confrontation in the throne room of the Red Keep. When King Robert discounted the deaths of Princess Elia, Rhaenys, and Crown Prince Aegon, it's said father's anger was like an aura. Some said it took the shape of a wolf, and that angry words were exchanged. Lord Jon Arryn was able to calm father, but in the end, he quit the city."

"If he hadn't," the group of four turned to find King Robert and their father along with the other two hooded people who'd come with the Dornish party. It had been the king who spoke, and he continued, "I'm pretty sure Lord Tywin and I would both be long dead. People make a big deal about my temper tantrums, Ned here, his anger makes the Reins of Castamere look like a lullaby."

Eddard shook his head, "Don't be so dramatic Robert." He focused on his sons, "Robb, we will talk about all of this soon, I have much to tell you before I leave for the capital. Lord Kevan Lannister has agreed to remain in Winterfell and act in an advisory position along with Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik."

"What of mother?" Robb frowned at his father's omission.

"She will be going to the Vale with Sansa to help teach your cousin Robert," Eddard looked to his daughter, "I have talked it over with your mother. I would like you to look to House Royce and see if you can find an acceptable match there. If not, look to any of the First Men houses from the Vale, I will not even entertain a proposal to an Andal House. Lord Royce will be able to help you in that regard."

Edric looked to the hooded figures, "Are you two just being dramatic?"

Aegon threw back his hood, "It was her idea."

"Was not," Daenerys pulled back her hood, "well not exactly. Drogo said it would be amusing to see people's reactions."

"Drogo," Aegon frowned, "he's the big Dothraki with the long braid, right?"

The exiled princess nodded, "He's sworn to protect me. He lost to Jorah in a duel, but Jorah didn't want Drogo's khalasar to rule, so let him keep his braid and his life. As long as he and his people swore to follow me." Daenerys seemed to remember something, "Oh yeah, we need to send ships soon. The other khals should be gathered soon and be ready to come west."

Robb snorted, "You want us to bring Dothraki to Westeros?"

"How else are they going to fight the Others?" Daenerys said as though it was a simple fact that even a small child should be able to understand.

Edric noticed their father's wince. Lord Stark looked to the no longer exiled Targaryen, "Princess, besides Jon I haven't exactly kept my other children up to speed on those events."

Aegon gasped, "What? Why not?"

"Well," Eddard looked at the two silver blonde youths, "maybe the simple fact I keep having to deal with everyone else trying to either save my life or warn about the Others. Is it so hard to grasp that I might also have been warned? I am the Lord Paramount of the North, who better is there to prepare for a potential war with the ancient enemy of my house."

(Even Later)

Robert led Jon, Aegon, and Daenerys into the room he'd been using as a solar. The King took the seat behind the desk, his three cousins spreading out around the room. He looked to Selmy who stood at the open door, his eyes moving between each occupant, "Barristan, go ahead and wait outside."

"Your grace?" Selmy looked unsure if that was such a good idea.

"I'm not going to hurt them, and I walked into the crypts with the lad walking behind me, if he was going to do something he'd have tried it then. I'm sure he thinks Lord Stark would be more lenient on him, seeing as he sheltered his brother for years." Robert watched the conflict in Barristan's face, "Accursed is the kinslayer, and I've had my fill of that."

Selmy seemed to relent at that and stepped outside. Aegon waited for the door to shut before he turned to Jon, "Brother, I heard you are squiring for Ser Barristan. Who's idea was that?"

Jon looked to Robert, "His grace thought it the only way to give me an out to go with father. As his bastard son, my options were limited, and Lady Stark was not mincing words when she proclaimed I would not be welcome in Winterfell when father went to the capital."

"You refer to Lord Stark as father," Daenerys frowned, "your father is my brother Rhaegar."

"Rhaegar sired me, this is true," Jon paced before the hearth that heated the room, "but he was never a father to me. He left my mother in an abandoned watchtower in the Prince's Pass. Abandoned without a maester, or even a midwife, just a couple maidservants who'd tended to Princess Elia when she'd given birth to Aegon."

This made Daenerys gasp in surprise and horror, but Aegon's face showed only horror, "Uncle Oberyn was supposed to be there." Jon's lack of surprise showed he was aware of this fact, but Robert's frown showed he was not. Aegon sighed, "Uncle should be meeting with Lord Stark by now, to make an apology he meant to make years ago. He'd promised to tend to your mother, to see you safely born. He was supposed to meet your uncle and negotiate with the Kingsguard protecting you and your mother. He regrets his failures, he allowed grief over my mother and sister, and my supposed fate to prevent him from doing some good in this world. Instead, good men are buried in the sand, your mother died senselessly, and we were raised ignorant of each other."

Daenerys looked between the brothers, "At least I had Vis, even if he was not always nice."

"When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives," Jon quoted a saying his father often told his siblings and him, at the looks from his brother and aunt he smirked, "Stark saying, basically means as long as the family sticks together, we can survive anything." Jon grimaced, "Apparently that includes the return of the Long Night."

"What exactly is the Long Night?" Daenerys asked.

Robert cleared his throat and they turned to him, "Ned told me tales about it when we were growing up in the Vale. We both thought they were just old tales to scare small children. Way back in the Age of Heroes, the winter to end all winters befell Westeros. A winter so cold and dark that it was like the sun hadn't risen in years. Along with this seemingly endless night came the Others, no one knows what they were or are, just that they came with the cold and hated anything with a pulse. They killed anything that moved be it human, child of the forest, giant, or animal. The worst part was anything they killed didn't stay dead. The Others could raise the dead, turn them into wights, and unleash them upon the living."

"We're supposed to fight something like that?" Aegon grimaced, Ashara had only given him scant details, like that the Others were coming, she was trying to shield him from the true terror of the situation. Robert didn't seem to have that compunction, "How'd they defeat them last time?"

Jon spoke up, "There are a few accounts. Some said it was an alliance of the various races of Westeros, that the Children of the Forest gave men weapons that could defeat the Others. All accounts agree on one thing, there was one great battle far to the north, and the Long Night ended with the coming of the dawn."

"A battle that no one returned from," Robert clarified, "When winter ended, Brandon the Builder threw up that wall. He then made the Night's Watch, which I'm starting to think wasn't supposed to be a penal colony."

Jon crossed his arms, "We're all of First Men blood here, we can thank the Andals for that."

Daenerys frowned, "We're Valyrian."

"Blackwood," Aegon chuckled, "Aegon the fifth married a Blackwood. Thanks to him, you and I got the blood of the First Men coursing through our veins." Aegon looked to his brother, "Jon here got some more from the Stark bloodline."

Robert snorted, "House Baratheon can only passingly claim any First Men heritage. Not sure how diluted the blood is in us."

"Same source as us," Aegon assured, "Your grandmother was a daughter of Aegon the fifth and Betha Blackwood."

Jon looked between the King and his older brother, "So, what's the plan, you realize you kind of told everyone in the hall that I'm not Lord Stark's bastard. It's not going to take long for people to start making assumptions, and on top of that, people are going to be questioning the sudden return of my brother to the land of the living, and that my aunt suddenly appeared in Winterfell."

"Especially the timing," Robert mused, "I've just set Cersei aside and denounced her children as not being of my seed." Robert looked to the three surviving members of House Targaryen, and in thought muttered, "I never claimed the throne by right of conquest."

"What's that," Aegon asked.

Robert blinked, "I didn't claim the throne by right of conquest. I claimed it by right of my Targaryen blood, my ties through my grandmother." Robert looked at Daenerys regretfully, "That's why Varys kept sending assassins after you and Viserys," He looked to Jon, "and why Ned hid you in the first place."

"Because by that right," Daenerys frowned, "You are behind both Aegon and Jon in the current line of succession, potentially me as well depending on the outcome of a great council, but historically those have favored male primogeniture."

"Exactly," Robert chuckled, "This will probably piss off my brothers, but it may be our best bet at reunification of the realm. We cannot have infighting when the dead are knocking at the gate."

Daenerys grimaced, "Can we please refrain from bringing up them unless absolutely necessary."

(Winterfell – Sept)

Cersei was looking out the window when the door to her makeshift prison was thrust open and Lady Stark dropped to her knees before the mask of the Father. The other woman's prayers were murmured too low for Cersei to make out. It was not long before the barren old Septa waddled in, "Lady Stark, it is unbecoming of a Lady of a Great House to run through the halls."

A sneer came to Cersei's face, "Whatever has happened?"

"Mind your place harlot," the Septa snapped, "the most devout will see to you soon enough."

This brought a bark of laughter to the disgraced daughter of Tywin Lannister, "No, they won't. I have claimed the gods of earth and tree or haven't you heard? The faith holds no sway over my fate unless they think the Quiet Wolf will hand me over to their tender mercies."

A minute iota of pleasure came to Cersei when the look of disquiet crossed the old woman's face. The Septa went back to fussing over Lady Stark who was still muttering her prayers. Cersei had been locked in this chamber since her faithless husband's eldest bastard had delivered the letter which doomed her and her children, the last warning of Maggie's prophesy had also come to pass. She'd been betrayed by her younger brother, both of them. Jaime had seemingly vanished instead of coming to her defense, and she'd heard from gossiping guards that it had been Tyrion who'd convinced Jaime to flee.

Her only ally she could rely on was also one that could doom her. Lord Stark had offered his hand, his protection from those who'd see her dead. Robert's anger was horrible to see, she had felt the brunt of it more times than she could count. She had also seen the mess he made of her cousins whenever they drew his ire. Eddard was not afraid of Robert's anger, though having a wolf the size of a small horse meant there were few things to fear. The most devout though was another matter, if she was found guilty of adultery there was the probability of public humiliation, and the incest and seduction of her brother would add a pyre at the end of the walk of atonement. Eddard was the closest thing to an authority figure among the followers of the Old Gods, no centralized religion meant they didn't have religious crimes outside of burning heart trees. Eddard would shield her from the Faith of the Seven's more brutal practices, in return for her admission of guilt. Part of that plea also included the protection of her children, though she learned her father had already been working on that in his way.

"I wish you had never come here," Cersei looked to Lady Stark who was still kneeling before the mask of the Father, but was no longer praying, "You brought those things into my house, your coming has brought nothing but chaos and ruin to my house."

Cersei glared, "What drivel is this? What ruin has befallen your house? It is my son who is maimed, my children who've been denounced and cast down. I do not see you imprisoned in this sorry excuse for a Sept. I do not see you betrayed by your kin, left to wonder each time that door opens it isn't the king's justice come to escort you to the headman's block."

Catelyn turned to her with a glare, "You think only of yourself Lady Lannister, you think of no one else. My sister is dead, no doubt she learned of your debauchery, and you had her silenced for it."

"Your sister was killed by bandits," Cersei rolled her eyes, "though even I have a hard time believing that. She was the only one killed, the bandits were nice enough to lock everyone else in the stables and ride away. Truly I think someone learned she'd killed her husband and opted to spare us all the drama and be done with the mad woman. You must admit your nephew has thrived since her death, even I could see that the few times I saw him during the trip north."

"Lannisters lie," Catelyn snarled, "it is in your nature. Your family is prideful, you are all vindictive and cruel."

Cersei stood from her seat next to the window, "Funny, coming from an opportunistic trout. I remember the way you behaved around Brandon Stark at the tourney before father ordered our early departure. You played the part of the lovelorn betrothed, even though he could barely stand your presence. Your dear husband though only had eyes for Ashara Dayne, and I had never seen her so enamored with any of her admirers before. I knew Ashara well, we served as Princess Elia's ladies together, she was a master of using womanly wiles to toy with the hearts of those who coveted her. Before we left, I heard her talking to Elia, she spoke of how Eddard appreciated her thoughts. One meeting and she was gushing over the man your father forced to take your hand."

Septa Mordane was too old to move quickly enough, let alone realize Catelyn was moving. Lady Stark crossed the room and struck Cersei across the face, "You vile, vindictive whore."

"At least I don't pretend to be anything less than the monster I am," Cersei glared as she turned back to look at Lady Stark, her cheek already reddening where she'd been struck, "I do believe it is unladylike to strike a prisoner, let alone one who is still under guest rights. I have caused no harm to you or yours, nor do I have the intent to harm."

"I am sure Lady Stark meant no harm either," They all turned to see Lord Lannister at the door, "you do tend to get that sort of reaction from people my dearest daughter." Tywin entered and stepped to the side to allow Tommen to enter, "I am sorry if I am intruding but it is half past midday, Lord Stark has arranged for my grandchildren to have supervised visits with their mother at this time."

The Septa bowed her head, "Of course, my lord, do you need me to remain to monitor her interactions?"

"That will not be necessary," Tywin waited as a third individual entered.

Tyrion sighed as he patted Tommen's shoulder, "See my boy, your mother as promised. She was even entertaining guests it seems."

Catelyn grimaced as she moved towards the door, "Pardon my lords, there are matters I must attend to."

"Of course," Tywin paused Catelyn at the door, "and Lady Stark," when she turned to him, he was glaring vehemently, "raise your hand to a member of my family again, you will learn the extent of my forgiveness."

Once Lady Stark and her Septa had left, Tyrion snorted, "It is always enjoyable watching little fish swim away."

Cersei had returned to her seat at the window, Tommen in her lap. She rubbed her reddened cheek, "What has happened, she does not strike me as one to lose their composure so easily."

Tywin pulled a chair from the corner of the room next to Cersei's seat, "You'll hear the gossip soon, and probably see them from the window. Aegon Targaryen and his aunt Daenerys arrived with the Martells this morning. Though, that is yet to become widely known as they did not present themselves openly to the entire court. The drama that played out this morning and more than likely has upset Lady Stark was Prince Doran presenting Lord Stark's true bastard in a ploy to maintain the boy's claim on Starfall."

Cersei looked to her baby brother, "Edric Dayne is Lord Stark's bastard?"

"It was as much a surprise to Lord Stark," Tyrion chuckled, "apparently Lord Dayne was a vindictive cunt, gods preserve him. He forbade his sister from telling Lord Stark about the child, then stole him and claimed him as his own. Oh, and Ashara Dayne is still alive she faked her death so she could run off to Essos to help raise and protect Princess Elia's son Aegon. The things you learn as Master of Coin."

Shaking her head Cersei looked to her father, "How?"

"Gregor's an imbecile," Tywin deadpanned, "there was not much left of the babe's head when the bodies were presented to me. I saw a few tuffs of hair the right shade of pale blonde, I assumed the babe was indeed Aegon. The other two bodies though were in better condition, their identities were confirmed."

"Perhaps not the best time for such gruesome discussion," Tyrion indicated Tommen, "Though, the comment from the king did intrigue me. He remarked that Lord Stark had an actual bastard, as though the one living here the past four and ten years was not his."

Notes:

Robert Arryn - Yeah, I totally forgot he was being taken to Winterfell with the royals, kind of surprised nobody realized he hadn't been mentioned since around chapter 2. For the sake of sanity, and though I doubt they'll share much scene time. Most people will address Robert Arryn as Robin except in formal settings, in his own thoughts he refers to himself as Robert. His current state is recovering from the Munchhausen by proxy he's been the victim of since birth.

Catelyn - I hope I caught some of the conflicted emotions she is going through. I'm trying not to bash the character, but really she's like the easiest character to slip and do that with. I also don't mean for Ned to seem cold or indifferent towards Cat, it's just the fact he has seen every mistake she had made up to her death. He didn't see her as Lady Stoneheart but Three-Eyed Raven Bran might have alluded that Cat didn't stay dead.

Cersei - Note that at the beginning of this scene, she does not know that Ashara is really alive. She is just trying to provoke a reaction from Cat, because she's tired of being looked down on by people she sees as beneath her.