Author's Note

I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire.


When Benjen arrives, Ned has never been so glad to see him. He wraps him in his arms despite their ages and clasps him on the back. "It's good to see you."

Benjen laughs and claps him on the shoulder. "And you, though you best have good reason for summoning me as though the Night's Watch answers to you."

Ned sighs. "I need you to see something."

#

The children – except Jon – are in the nursery today, playing as though they are just children. Robb stops when he sees Benjen and tilts his head, as though trying to remember him. Sansa's fingers twitch. Arya snarls.

"You two must be Arya and Sansa," Benjen says with an easy smile. "And Robb, you've grown since I saw you." He steps towards Robb and Sansa clenches her fists. Benjen gasps. Ned catches his arm.

"Sansa, don't play with your uncle. Robb, do you remember your uncle Benjen?"

"No," Robb says.

"He's going to stay with us for a few days."

Arya crawls over, Stark girl in one moment, demon in the next, twisted mass of icy limbs in the third. Benjen screams and staggers backward, drawing his sword. Ned catches his daughter around the closest thing to her middle and places her in her crib. "Arya, please remember not to do that around guests."

"Ned…" Benjen whispers, staring at the children.

"I know; I hoped they'd be better behaved."

Nothing is helped by Robb venturing over to Benjen, close enough for Benjen to hold out his hand as though greeting a dog – which Robb then bites, all snarls and fangs. Ned grabs him and throws him into the corner. "Robb! We do not bite people!"

Robb only shows his fangs.

#

Ned takes Benjen to have his hand treated, and it is only once the Maester begins bandaging the wound that he falls apart.

"What in seven hells was that?" he roars, his eyes alight with rage.

"I don't know. I was hoping you might. Did Father ever say anything? Anything you might remember?"

"About babies that turn into monstrosities made of ice? No!"

Ned cannot fault his fear and revulsion. "Nor do the books."

"The children are not human, that much is clear," says Luwin. "But I fear if I write the Citadel, they may seek to experiment."

And Cat has missed her moonblood.

"Have you spoken with Old Nan?" asks Benjen.

#

Old Nan has been at Winterfell since Ned was young. Since before then. He has never asked how old she is. She cared for Ned as a child, and claims to have done so for his father before him.

She does not tend to his children.

Partly this is her choice, she is an old woman now and in no condition to chase around a seven year old capable of outrunning a horse. Partly it is Ned's decision, out of fear that she may be too frail to withstand his children.

Instead, she minds Jon when he is not in lessons or the training yard, and Jon drinks in her stories the way Ned once had. The boy is lonely, being isolated from his siblings and considered inappropriate company for Rodrik and Vayon's girls.

She is with Jon today, and Ned hates to send him away, but Luwin takes his hand with a smile and an offer of a history lesson. Jon loves the stories of dragons. Sometimes that too scares Ned, but he cannot fear for Jon too, or else all will be lost.

"I did wonder when this talk would come," Old Nan says pleasantly.

Ned sits beside her on the bench. "The children. Do you know what's wrong with them?"

"Wrong, my Lord? There's nothing wrong with them. They are the way they are meant to be."

"The boy bit me and the youngest turned into an ice demon!" Benjen cries, holding up his injured hand. "And I don't know what the older girl was trying."

Ned has decided not to tell him. It is best that way.

"There is magic in the Stark bloodline," says Old Nan. "I know not why, but it is stronger in them, my Lord. Stronger than has been seen in three hundred years."

But not in Jon. His own children are cursed, while Jon has been somehow protected.

"But why?" Benjen asks, cradling his wounded hand. "Why are they turning into monsters with fangs and spiders made of ice now?"

"Now that, I cannot say. Mayhaps the magic of the world is running stronger." Old Nan smiles and looks up from her knitting. "In which case, then mayhaps it is not for them you ought to fear."

Ned remembers this of her, the way she will spin her tales to an open ending. Nought but nightmares to scare the children – except these children are the ones doing the scaring. He doesn't rise to the bait, but Benjen, evidently still riled from his injury, is less wise.

"Meaning what?"

"Those children are not the only ones with Stark blood, little master."

And Ned sees the understanding on Benjen's face, the sudden horror and revulsion.

"This is but another of your stories," he snaps.

"Perhaps." She smiles and pats his wounded hand. "But you have seen them, have you not?"


Author's Note

Benjen: Ned, what the FUCK?

Ned: I am so sorry, I thought they'd be more polite.

Benjen: Their manners are not the issue here!