OLD FRIENDS

ARYA

That day, Arya had woken up early. So early that by the time she finished dressing, the sun had barely begun to rise over the horizon. She was wearing a gray cloth dress with white embroidery representing the colors of her house. On any other day, Arya would have done her best not to have to wear it, but today was a very important day for all of Winterfell, and she knew that her mother would never forgive her if she did anything she considered inappropriate. Besides, for once she also wanted to make a good impression on their guests, although she wasn't entirely sure if wearing that dress was going to be a good idea or if, on the contrary, she should just be herself and forget about dresses and nonsense. In the end, she had decided to heed her mother and Sansa and, without setting a precedent, dress as a lady of her stature should.

She raced down the stairs of the Great Keep, Nymeria at her heels, and hurried through the hall where she usually breakfasted with her parents and the rest of her siblings, but she doubted that any of them were as early as she was that day. On the way she noticed that practically none of the servants had woken up yet, and the only ones she encountered were a patrol of guards heading to the barracks to sleep after the night's round, but, half asleep as they were, they hardly paid her any attention.

The cooks were surprised to see her there, and all the more so as it was so early, but they made her a quick breakfast without complaint, though one told her that it might be more convenient to wait until her lord father awoke. She ate the breakfast as fast as she could to such an extent that she almost choked on the food. Beside her, Nymeria was enjoying the leftovers from the previous night's dinner.

When she finished, she bid the cooks a polite farewell and walked back across the courtyard until she reached the south gate of Winterfell. She climbed to the top of one of the towers on the wall, where her half-brother Jon was waiting for her, sitting on one of the stone battlements looking off into the distance. He did not turn to look at her, but his great white wolf, Ghost, rose to sniff Nymeria. The direwolves their father had given them had grown a lot in the last few months, but Jon's wolf was bigger than any of his littermates.

"You're late, little sister. I thought on a day as important as today you wouldn't oversleep," Jon said looking down at her with a smirk on his face.

"Don't get smart, you're just up a little earlier than me" Arya said sticking her tongue out. She walked over to the battlements and sat down next to him.

"You're nervous, aren't you?" asked Jon.

"I'm not. You're the one who's nervous. You've been talking about wanting to enlist in the Black Eagles for a year now. I'm sure you haven't slept a wink tonight," Arya replied, although the truth is that she had barely been able to sleep the last few nights.

"I neither confirm nor deny that, young lady. But don't think it's that easy. I had also thought of going to the Wall and enlisting in the Night's Watch, as Uncle Ben did when he was my age. I'm sure our father would like me to do that. Besides, I'd still be in the North and could come see you at Winterfell whenever I wanted to."

"You could also stay with us at Winterfell. I don't understand why you are so eager to leave," Arya chided him.

"Well, Lady Stark wouldn't like a bastard like me hanging around here much longer. And as you well know in the Night's Watch and the Black Eagles everyone is treated equally, regardless of their origin. Besides, it would be a great honor, the greatest honor a bastard could aspire to."

"I hear there are women in the Black Eagles too, do you think if I ask father he'll let me enlist with you?" asked Arya excitedly. Truth be told, the prospect of joining the brave soldiers of Dragonstone was an idea she kept thinking about. "It would be like in the legends, two brothers living extraordinary adventures."

"I'd love that," Jon said, ruffling her hair. "But I don't think your mother would be too happy about it. I'm convinced she'd rather you became some southern lord's lady and looked after his castle."

"No. That's for Sansa, but not for me. I want to be like Lady Edelgard."

The lady of Dragonstone and commander of the Black Eagles Strike Force was one of her favorite heroines. When she was seventeen, she had held out at Storm's End against the Tyrell armies during Robert's Rebellion, and then fought at Dragonstone. She had also fought alongside her father in the Greyjoy Rebellion, although her father kept telling her that they had been fighting on different islands, and that they had only seen each other at the end of the war, when her father took Theon as his ward and she, his sister. Still, the stories told about her were legendary, and the Black Eagles had become the most famous soldiers in all of Westeros. Year after year, some recruiter would come to Winterfell with the intention of bringing new recruits to Dragonstone, and he always returned with scores of people.

"Well, now that she's coming here maybe you can convince father to let you go with her," Jon said.

"You think so?"

"Well, it's worth a try, but don't let Sansa or your mother know, or they won't let you out of your room" laughed Jon.

"I'll be quiet as a ghost" Arya smiled at him.

They spent several hours there, and were even joined by her brother Bran well into the morning. When the sun was already high in the sky, Arya spotted a dark shape on the horizon that soon became a river of gold, silver and steel. A heartbeat escaped Arya. At last they had arrived.

The three of them ran down to the Great Hall to warn her father, but he, Robb, Sansa and her mother were already on notice by the time they arrived. In just a few minutes, her entire family, as well as her most important vassals and servants who were in Winterfell had gathered outside the south gate of the castle. She stood in the front row with the rest of her siblings except Jon, in the gap between Sansa and Bran, as was customary when receiving an important guest. Jon, Theon Greyjoy, Sir Rodrik, Maester Luwin, Vayon Poole and his daughter Jeyne stood behind them and then the rest of the servants. The riders came in little by little. The first of all, who by the crown on his head appeared to be the king, was a man as fat as a barrel with a thick black beard. Next to him were two knights in silver armor and snow-white cloaks who could be none other than the famous Kingsguard, the finest knights in the kingdom. Next passed a slender blond rider in gleaming golden armor and a white cloak like that of the White Swords. Then there was a horseman with a hound-shaped helmet and beside him a young man of Robb's age who looked very much like the knight in golden armor. Beside them also stood a dwarf who could be none other than Tyrion Lannister, the Imp. And, at last, she saw her.

She recognized her instantly. It was impossible not to. The Lady of Dragonstone was wearing an intricate, blood-red gown with gold patterns, but Arya could clearly see how, beneath it, she wore full armor. Her hair was long and white, and her skin completely pale. Her bearing was so regal that Arya wondered how this woman could be anything less than a queen. She was mounted on a black stallion and in her hand she carried a banner with a black eagle on a field of gold and red. Below it was also tied the smaller royal banner of the Baratheons. It was flanked by two columns of five riders in coal-black armor that could only be Black Eagles. Beside her rode a dark-haired man, who had a completely serious face and snake-like eyes, and a girl who would be about her brother Robb's age. Her black hair was down to her cheeks and she wore a gray woolen dress. Arya found her rather dull.

Behind them were two women, in her opinion, much more interesting. Unlike the rest of the guards, they did not wear helmets and only had leather armor for protection. The one on her left had a dark complexion and hair of a strange purple color which she found very curious. Seeing a sword strapped to her belt and a bow on her back, she couldn't help but get even more excited. The other had blonde hair arranged in such a way that the ends ended in elaborate curls. In the hand that did not hold the reins she carried a fan with which she tried futilely to shield herself from the sun, as if the light bothered her for some reason. Arya looked for a moment at the sky, which was quite cloudy, just as it had been for the last few days.

What kind of warriors are they?, Arya wondered as she looked at these women, not giving the matter any more importance. Could they be some kind of Essos mercenaries? Seeing the color of their hair and the strange clothes they wore, it could not be anything else.

The rest of the great royal retinue continued to parade, but Arya continued to gaze at Lady Edelgard and her companions as if nothing else existed in the world. In fact, when King Robert's queen consort, Cersei Lannister, appeared walking before them, Arya could only think how vulgar she looked next to the lady of Dragonstone. The king dismounted and promptly the rest of his party did the same. The stable boys came immediately to take the horses away and her father began the introductions.

"Your Highness," said his father solemnly. "Winterfell is at your disposal."

"Ned! I'm glad to see that icy face of yours. I see you haven't changed a bit, you're still too serious!" roared the king with a laugh. He wrapped his huge arm around his father's shoulders and squeezed him in a tight, long hug. When he finally let go, he was grinning from ear to ear. Her father was smiling too, though somewhat less than the king. Then he turned to his mother. "Cat! You're still as beautiful as ever." Her mother replied with a slight bow and his father proceeded to make the introductions.

"This is my eldest son and heir, Robb," he said pointing to his older brother. "My daughters Sansa and Arya" continued their father. "And lastly my youngest sons, Brandon and little Rickon." The king was walking past them and observing them one by one. He also made some comment about how strong Robb was or how pretty Sansa was, but to her he said nothing. "There is also my bastard son Jon and my ward Theon Greyjoy, whom I have raised as you commanded me."

When her father had finished speaking, the queen approached, along with the blond boy and two other younger children, a boy and a girl, with hair just like the queen's. "I guess it's my turn now, eh? My wife you already know and these are my children, the eldest, Joffrey, my daughter Myrcella and my youngest son Tommen."

"My queen," said her father, and stooped to kiss the queen's hand. "It is a pleasure to welcome you to Winterfell."

"The pleasure is mine, Lord Stark," the queen said gently.

"Take me to your crypt, Ned. I wish to pay my respects" said the king as soon as the introductions were over. The queen protested, they had been traveling for a long time, they were tired and cold, but the king gave her an icy look and she protested no more. The knight in golden armor took her by the arm and led her away in silence. Her father withdrew with the king in the direction of the crypts and her mother left with the queen and princes to show them to their assigned quarters. The royal family had been given rooms in the Great Keep, while the rest of the court would sleep in the guest house. As Arya continued to gaze at Lady Edelgard, a hand rested on her shoulder.

"Do you want to go talk to her?" her brother Jon said to her. Arya turned to him, surprised.

"Now?" she asked him.

"It's as good a time as any," Jon replied, and set off to where the Black Eagles were standing, still in the courtyard talking to each other. Arya followed behind him, rather nervously.

"An impressive fortress," she heard the black-haired, snake-faced man say. His voice was icy and Arya got chills just hearing it. His clothes were completely black, and the only thing out of place was a strange violet flower embroidered on his lapel. "Some of its towers are in bad shape, but overall it looks like a very sturdy and easily defensible castle. Oh! Looks like we have company..." he said when he noticed Jon and Arya's arrival. The rest of their companions turned, including Lady Edelgard, and stared at them without a word.

"My lady," Jon said after an awkward silence. "I am Jon Snow, Ned Stark's son, and this is my sister, Arya Stark. It is our great honor to be able to welcome you to Winterfell."

"The pleasure is mine," the lady of Dragonstone said graciously, a small smile on her face as her violet eyes seemed to look straight into the depths of their souls. "Allow me to make the introductions. This is my daughter, Morgan." The girl next to her bowed her head in greeting. Then she pointed to the man on her right. "This is Hubert of House Vestra, my most loyal advisor, and this is Petra Macneary, my personal bodyguard and a good friend." Both bowed slightly as they were named. "And this is Constance von Nuvelle, the lady of Nuvelle-Enbarr, one of my and my husband's most loyal vassals."

"It is a great honor to be here despite my low status," the woman said, her voice muffled and melancholy, almost as if wanting to apologize. "My sincerest thanks."

"Hmmm..." said the man. His face reflected a smile that could not be described by any other word than evil. "I find it very strange that it would be Ned Stark's bastard and his youngest daughter who would be in charge of receiving King Robert's sister-in-law and niece. There would be those who would take it as an affront to their person."

Jon blanched at that, and Arya's throat tightened. She knew she had to say something polite and offer an apology to fix that situation, after all, it was her duty as a lady, as Sansa would say, but she couldn't find the right words or the courage to say them.

"Calm down," Lady Edelgard said rubbing her brow. "Hubert sometimes doesn't know how to keep his manners. Don't worry, your presence does not offend me at all."

"My sincerest apologies," Hubert said, though it didn't sound sincere at all to Arya.

"Though it is true that there is some truth in his words. Tell me, this is not merely a polite introduction, is it?"

"We are very sorry, my lady," Arya said crestfallen. "My brother and I have grown up with the stories told of you and the Black Eagles and we were very much looking forward to meeting you."

"Oh, so that was it," Edelgard said, blushing a little. "You flatter me, you really do, but I don't think it's that big of a deal. I'm not a legendary heroine or anything, just someone trying to do the right thing."

"Your exploits inspire people all over the kingdom, Lady Edelgard. And your humility only enhances them," Hubert said impassively. Arya was at a loss to discern whether this was merely false flattery as Sansa used to do or a genuine compliment.

"People admire you, Lady Edelgard. Everywhere we go people want to join us because of you" Petra said. She had a strange accent that Arya found most curious, though she spoke the language of Westeros with complete fluency.

"Now that you mention it, I would like to ask something of you, my lady. I have not yet spoken to my father, but I would like to join the Black Eagle Strike Force and accompany you when you return south," Jon said. "I am skilled with the spear and even more so with the sword, even better than my brother Robb. Please let me become one of your men. I swear to you that I will be as loyal to you and the realm as any other."

"Enough, enough. There's no need to beg me like this, the Black Eagle Strike Force admits anyone as a recruit, regardless of gender or origin. And you look very willing to join. It will be my pleasure to have you join the Nuvelle Enbarr Academy. But you should talk to your father first, I wouldn't want to cause any trouble."

"I will, my lady. And thank you. You don't know what it means to me," Jon said.

"May I join too, my lady?" asked Arya on a sudden impulse. "I too want to be a Black Eagle and learn to fight."

"I don't see why not. Though we don't usually have many noble girls who want to join. Usually the nobility don't usually look kindly on it, it's a shame really."

"If they dare not defy their fathers or their husbands to join us, then they might as well stay in their castles with their dresses and jewels," said one of the guards with derision. When the visor of her helmet was lifted, Arya realized that this was another woman, though because of the armor and helmet, from a distance she had mistaken her for a man when she had first seen her. She had a mischievous smile that reminded her of someone and locks of black hair fell down to her eyes.

"Well, it's not always so easy to defy the customs you've grown up with all your life. I have been lucky to be in this position, and so it is my duty to change things for those who don't find it so easy. Or have you forgotten so quickly how you got here?" said Edelgard.

"No, my lady," said the woman. "You know you have my deepest thanks."

"I hope you both can come to Dragonstone and join us. If you have any trouble, please do not hesitate to come to me."

Both she and the rest of her companions brought their fists to their chests and bowed slightly before leaving in the direction of the guest house.

"I'll see you around, recruits," the black haired woman said with a mischievous grin before leaving with her companions.

"Well, that went pretty well, don't you think, sis?" said Jon with a smirk as he tousled her hair again.

"It's just as I imagined it," said Arya. She still couldn't believe what had just happened. She was about to achieve what she had always dreamed of, now there was just one small problem left: convincing her parents.

JON

Winterfell's Great Hall was so smoky that his eyes watered from the stinging. The aroma was laden with the scent of sweat, roasting meat and freshly baked bread. The sober gray stone walls were lined with white, gold and scarlet banners: the Stark's direwolf, the Baratheon's crowned stag and the Lannister's lion. The only thing out of place was a solitary golden double-headed eagle on a crimson field that Jon had mistaken for the Lannister banner from afar until he took a closer look.

It was the first time in his life that Jon had ever seen the room as full as it was on that occasion. Every table was filled to overflowing, and servants and pages came and went serving dishes and more wine to the thirsty diners. His father and Lady Stark were seated on the stage with the kings, while the princes, the rest of the royal family and Jon's brothers were at a table next to it. Not so Lady Edelgard and the rest of her men, who were down on the benches, talking among themselves and seemed oblivious to the banquet going on around them.

Jon wondered if perhaps he should have sat with them, since in a few days he too would be a Black Eagle like them, but he dared not get up from the bench he had been assigned. Besides, he was very much at ease there. He could drink as much wine as he wanted and was enjoying the stories and anecdotes told by the boys sitting on the same bench. They came from all over the kingdom, from the Stormlands, the Westerlands and there were even some from the Reach. He was sure his companions were more fun than the king's sons, but he was still curious to hear what stories the soldiers of Dragonstone had to tell. Surely they had participated in a thousand battles, but it could wait. After all, this would not be the last banquet to be held during King Robert's visit, so he would have more opportunities to sit next to them another time. He was not at all envious of his brothers, sitting up there with the king's family. Robb was grinning like a fool at Princess Myrcella, barely eight years old, who looked sideways at him and occasionally gave him a shy smile. They barely exchanged a word in the time Jon was watching them and he felt sorry for his half-brother, of how bored he must be at that moment. Near him, Arya was also bored next to Prince Tommen, but unlike Robb, she was not hiding her tiredness and was playing with her food. The only one who seemed to be having a great time was Sansa, who kept talking to the crown prince and was beaming with happiness. He was sure that he looked like Prince Charming to her, but Jon didn't like him one bit. Beneath that regal appearance, Jon could see his disdain and arrogance without difficulty.

Something rubbed against his leg from under the table. Red eyes lifted to look at him and Ghost let out a small groan. Jon poked one of the chicken thighs he had on his plate and dropped it between his legs. Ghost silently devoured it and Jon took the opportunity to stroke his bushy white fur.

"Is this place taken?" asked a familiar voice from behind him.

"Uncle Ben. Shouldn't you be sitting with the king's family?" said Jon smiling.

"Maybe," replied his uncle as the squire sitting next to Jon made room on the bench for Lord Stark's brother to sit. "Shouldn't you be sitting next to your brothers?"

"Not today," Jon replied listlessly. "Lady Stark has thought it would be an insult to the royal family to seat a bastard among them."

"I understand." His uncle turned his head to look toward the tables where the lord of Winterfell was seated. "Though you're not the only one not sitting where he should be."

"Lady Edelgard," Jon said to his uncle in a low voice. "She is her brother's wife, but she does not sit with the king at his table, not even close. Nor does she lodge with the rest of the royal family, but I know Lady Stark had prepared rooms for them in the Great Keep."

"You notice everything, eh?" his uncle had his eyes riveted on Jon. "What do you think it's due to?"

"There must be some enmity between her and the Lannisters. Both the queen and she seem very proud."

"True. They don't seem like the sort of people anyone would want to feud with," his uncle said.

"I'm going to join the Black Eagles when they return south," Jon confessed to him. "If I ask him with her here, my father will have no choice but to let me go."

"You're still a boy, Jon. You don't know what you're getting yourself into," Benjen said studying him.

"I know perfectly well. They are the best soldiers in the realm. The bravest and most loyal. You don't understand, anyone would be proud to be able to join them" he protested.

"Loyal, yes. But to whom? My brother has always distrusted Lady Hresvelg and her soldiers, and I'm sure he does so for good reason. All that glitters is not gold."

"I'll go to the Wall then," Jon said. The wine was making him bold, or reckless. "I'll join the Night's Watch like you did. There's no place for me at Winterfell."

"You clearly don't know what you're saying, Jon. If you do that, you'll never have a family. You'll never sire a son, and your only brothers will be thieves and murderers. You have a family here that loves you, Jon. Don't give that up."

"Shut up!" said Jon standing up and feeling the rage growing inside him. "You don't know how I feel! What it's like growing up here!"

Suddenly he realized that the table had gone silent and everyone was looking at him, even from other tables. He felt the tears trying to come out of his eyes, so he formulated a shy apology and ran to the door without looking back.

The courtyard was silent and deserted. The only person in sight was a lone sentry on one of the battlements of the inner wall who was trying to shelter from the cold by covering himself with his gray cloak. Jon was sure he would rather be in there, enjoying himself with the rest under the warmth of the campfires and enjoying a hot supper. Otherwise, no one was to be seen and their only companions were the torches sparking in the darkness of the night. Well, them and Ghost, who had followed him there amidst all the hubbub.

The sound of music and song drifted out of the windows behind him. Jon had no desire to listen to that, much less go back in there, but before he started back to his room a voice called out to him.

"Boy." Jon turned and saw Tyrion Lannister, leaning against one of the trees in the courtyard. Jon blamed himself for not noticing his presence as he left. The dwarf smiled at him, "Is that animal a wolf?"

"A direwolf," Jon replied. "His name is Ghost." He looked at the dwarf and for a moment forgot his anger. "You're Tyrion Lannister, aren't you?"

"The very same. I wonder what made you find out. I imagine it must have been my hair. And you're the bastard, aren't you?"

"Lord Stark is my father," Jon said coldly. He'd been judged all his life, but he wasn't about to let someone like him go judging him. "What are you doing here, why aren't you at the feast?"

"It's too hot, too cold and I've had too much to drink" replied the little man. "And you?"

"I don't want to talk about it" Jon replied, his voice as icy as that night.

"He's had a run-in with his uncle. Or so it seemed to me," said another voice, this time coming from the door. Jon turned his head and saw Lord Vestra leaning against it, pensive. For the second time in just a few minutes, he cursed himself for not being more attentive. He didn't know how a man of his height had been able to go so unnoticed, but from what he had noticed the last few days, Lady Hresvelg's servant had an uncanny aptitude for going unnoticed.

"Ah," said Tyrion with a smile. "My dear Hubert von Vestra. How strange to see you so far from your beloved lady. We have been traveling together for a month now and I think this is the first time I have seen you leave her side. Be careful, lest something happen to her in your absence."

"Heh, I doubt it," said the enigmatic man. "I don't think anyone in there would dare even look her in the eye, let alone try to hurt her."

"I wouldn't be so sure," said the Imp. "I know at least a couple who would dare. And our dear Robert has had a lot to drink tonight. Axe against hammer, now that would be a sight worth seeing."

"You may have occasion to see it some day, Imp."

"Is that a threat, my dear Hubert? Anyone would think you are conspiring against his majesty."

"Lady Edelgard is a respected woman," Jon interjected before tempers flared. He was a bit uncomfortable with the topic of conversation, though he had to admit that a certain part of him would have liked to see the conversation between these two men continue. In any case, he couldn't shake off the feeling that they were both waiting to see what he would say. And with one of the queen's brothers and a vassal of the lady of Dragonstone present, Jon had to be very careful what he said. "She has always been loyal to the king. She defended Storm's End, took Dragonstone and defeated the ironborn. I don't think betraying his highness is something that would cross her mind."

"Sometimes people are not as we think they are, Snow. Take your father, for example. He has a reputation for being respected and honorable, but surely he has his secrets too," Tyrion said.

"My father is an honorable man! I will not tolerate anyone saying otherwise or insulting him!" Jon said unable to contain himself.

"I agree with Lord Tyrion in that regard. Your father may be very honorable, but that did not stop him from fathering a bastard shortly after he married" Hubert said this time, joining the Lannister's opinion. Jon wished he could have given him an answer to shut them up once and for all, or even turned around and left, as humiliating as that would be; but in the end all he did was stand there, unable to articulate a single coherent response and feeling like a complete fool.

"Perhaps we've gone too far, boy," Tyrion said after a long, awkward silence. "I'm sorry, but we dwarves have no business being polite. Generations of jesters give me the right to wear colorful costumes and say the first thing that pops into my head. And Lord Vestra here is nothing but a viperous snake. During our long journey I've seen more than one veteran soldier shit himself after talking to him for only a few seconds."

"Well, at least they dare to approach me. The younger ones just stare at me from where they think I can't see them," he said with a smile that looked like it came out of one of the horror stories Old Nan used to tell them when they were kids. "In that respect the young Starks have had more courage than ten men put together."

"I saw them when we arrived," Tyrion said. "You and your sister. Arya, is it not?"

"Yes. My father often says she looks like my late Aunt Lyanna. Untamed and wild," Jon said, now more relaxed. "It would make Lady Stark much happier if she behaved like my other sister, Sansa, but she's never in all these years been able to make her change."

"She certainly seems very stubborn. When I saw her before she has reminded me of certain people," Hubert said thoughtfully. "I'm sure she would be a magnificent asset within the Black Eagles."

"I see you feel a great eagerness to recruit people into your famous organization. And certainly, Lord Stannis and Lady Edelgard share your enthusiasm. Tell me, how large is your small personal army already? If it can be known, of course," Tyrion said.

"Of course. By our calculations, we expect that by the end of this year we will finally reach five thousand strong, including new recruits. My lady's dream is slowly coming true."

"Lady Hresvelg's dream?" asked Jon. He couldn't imagine what it could be about. Someone who had Lady Edelgard's fame, power and fortune could hardly lack for anything in life.

"A place where all people are considered on the basis of their deeds and their merits, and not by their status, their sex, or wherever they come from. A place where anyone, whether noble or commoner, can rise to the top if they set their mind to it."

Jon gasped and for a moment thought the alcohol was dulling his senses. Something like what Hubert had just described was not only a dream, but perhaps also something very, very dangerous. It was practically impossible to change the established order, the order that had been imposed on Westeros for centuries, since even before the Targaryens conquered the Seven Kingdoms. And yet Jon couldn't help but be fascinated by it. What would it be like to live in a place like that? In a place where no one would judge him for being a bastard? It seemed like something very similar to the Night's Watch, though without the inconvenience it entailed and without having to freeze to death from the cold.

"It sounds like a lovely dream, Hubert," Tyrion said mockingly. "But it seems to me your lady's fame has gone to her head. This place she dreams of is but a utopia, a childish fantasy. In this world the strong and the powerful rule, and that is what keeps the world turning. Anything else only leads to anarchy. Truth be told, I didn't take you as someone who believed in such nonsense."

"Nonsense you say? Yes, her goals may seem unattainable right now, befitting a madwoman, but I'm sure they thought the same of Aegon the Conqueror when he landed on the Blackwater with less than a thousand men. Knowing what happened afterwards, does it still seem foolish to you?"

"Aegon had dragons," Jon said. "Three dragons. Without them he could never have accomplished anything. He would have been crushed by his enemies as soon as he set foot in Westeros."

"Listen to the boy, Vestra. Unless your lady has some dragon hiding out there, I doubt she's going to get anything changed. But I admit that these fantasies of yours have made me extremely curious, though I'm about as likely to see them come true as I am to ride a dragon. I took you for a rational person, but apparently you are nothing but a fool," Tyrion Lannister said.

"I don't care about your opinion, Lannister" replied Hubert, offended. "I wonder how long ago your dreams died. I would do whatever it takes for Lady Edelgard to realize her vision of the world, a vision I share as my own. I wish that someday you would be able to feel something similar. If not, you may truly be the sad, twisted creature everyone takes you for."

"That may be so," Tyrion zoned. Without another word, he turned and hobbled back toward the banquet in complete silence. When he opened the door, light spilled across the courtyard, casting three identical shadows against the ground. Jon stood for a long moment watching as the lights and shadows danced back and forth.

"Aren't you going back inside, Jon Snow?" said Hubert with an enigmatic smile as he held the door Tyrion had opened seconds ago. "You needn't be afraid, after all, there are no more dangerous monsters in there than the ones you just dealt with out here."

EDDARD

"No, absolutely not," Ned said, completely serious and impassive. His daughter Arya was at his feet crying and pleading with him as she had never done in her short life and, despite the pain it caused him to see her like this, he was impassive. He had to be.

"But she's said I could do it. And Jon's going to enlist too. Why can't I do it? I can be as good as him, I'll prove it to you," Arya said between sobs.

"That's not the point, Arya," he replied, "Your place is in the court of King's Landing, with me, Sansa and Bran. There you will learn to behave like a true lady, and who knows, you may meet your future husband. But I will not let you join the Black Eagles, ever."

Arya lifted her face and looked at him. Her eyes were red and her face was wet from crying, but more than sadness, it was anger and rage on her face. Without another word, she rushed out of her room and slammed the door with a thunderous slam.

She'll get over it, Ned thought. Arya was barely ten years old and this was just another one of her tantrums. She might be angry for a few days, but in time she would find something else to get her attention and forget about the whole thing. Or so he hoped. In all this time, neither he nor Catelyn had been able, or known how, to contain Arya's fierce and wild side. She was always trying to sneak out of her lessons with the Septa Mordane and spent her days playing with wooden swords with Robb, Jon and Bran. But that was not her place, as much as she thought otherwise. He hoped the South would make her change, if only a little, and she would finally learn to behave like a lady, just like her sister. The last thing she needed was to fill her head with more fantasies.

Still, I will have to speak to Lady Edelgard. The mere thought sent shivers down her spine. Ever since Robert and his retinue had arrived at Winterfell several days ago, Ned had done his best not to have to speak to the lady of Dragonstone any more than necessary. When Catelyn had given him the news that night that Robert had set out for Winterfell, Ned knew he would have to face the queen's entire household and had prepared for it as best he could. He could deal with Robert, and with the arrogance and vanity of the Lannisters, but dealing with Lady Hresvelg was quite another matter.

Yet she was his guest, and she had also given Jon her permission to go to Dragonstone. He was not in the least amused, but he could not stop him no matter how much he wanted to. Cat had made him swear that Jon would not stay at Winterfell when he left the North to serve as Robert's Hand, which left Jon with very few other options. Either go to the Wall and pronounce the vows of the Night's Watch, or make a living as a free rider or mercenary. Despite his disdain for Lady Edelgard, Ned knew that Jon would be safe at Dragonstone, and would be happier than freezing on the Wall or fighting in the Disputed Lands.

"You may take your leave", Ned told his guards as he left the room. He had not expected anyone to harm him in his own home, let alone where he was going, though in truth the letter Lysa Arryn had written to his wife made him feel a twinge of insecurity. But the main reason was that he wanted to be alone that afternoon. There were still several hours before the evening feast, when Ned would be proclaimed Hand of the King before the whole court of Winterfell, and Robert would announce that in a few days they would return south. Tomorrow they were to leave for a hunt, and considering how much they had to organize for the return journey, Ned did not expect to leave for at least three days.

Without further ado, Ned crossed the courtyard and headed for the godswood. The blood of the First Men still ran through the veins of the Starks of Winterfell. Unlike the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, their gods were the Old Ones, those who were nameless and faceless. The godswood was a primitive and dark place. Even when the sun shone high in the sky, the twisted branches of the huge oak trees created a dense canopy through which only a few rays of light passed. Silence and shadows prevailed, and amid all the noise and bustle that reigned in Winterfell those days, Ned hoped to find there a little of the peace and quiet he so desperately needed. In the middle of the forest, a very old heart tree stood beside a small pond of cold black water. Ned sat down by a mossy rock, his sword leaning against the trunk of the old tree, and drew his blade. Any man would need great strength to wield a blade of that size, even using both hands. Luckily, Ice was made of Valyrian steel, so it was lighter than normal. Ned plunged the blade into the dark waters, pulled out a cloth and began to calmly wipe his sword.

"Lord Stark" a voice called to him, after a while.

Ned looked up and observed the lady of Dragonstone. She wore a red dress, which contrasted sharply with the dark green tones of the grove. Even in that darkness, she stood out clearly, as if she did not belong there.

"My lady," Ned replied distantly, but formally. "I did not expect to find anyone here - were you looking for me?"

"Not exactly you, Lord Stark, though I'm glad to have found you, too. I was looking for that thing you're leaning on," she said, directing her gaze toward the weirwood.

The sun was already beginning to set, and despite the growing darkness, the heart tree was unmistakable even in the midst of the grove. The melancholy face etched into its snow-white trunk seemed to watch over them.

"They are something incredible, don't you think? There are few left south of the Neck, and at Dragonstone we don't even have one. I wish there was some way to replant them" Edelgard continued.

"It is said that the Children of the Forest planted them thousands of years ago, but since they disappeared apparently that knowledge has been lost. As far as I know, I have not heard of anyone who has managed to obtain a seed from one" Ned replied, turning his eyes back to his sword.

"There are so many secrets to be discovered in this world... I have the feeling that, as the centuries go by, instead of becoming wiser, all we manage to do is lose more and more knowledge. Humanity has been stagnant for too long."

"Some secrets are better buried, my lady. I think we can agree that the world is better off without magic moving continents or dragons burning armies."

"Ignorance only makes us forget the dangers, it doesn't make them go away," Edelgard said so grandiloquently, Ned found it increasingly difficult to bear her presence.

"Is that why you came here, to lecture me?" said Ned trying to settle the conversation.

"I'm sorry, Lord Stark, it was not my intention to make you uncomfortable. One of my intentions in coming here was to try to resolve this bad atmosphere that seems to exist between us. Both my husband and I consider you an honorable man and hold you in very high regard" Edelgard said.

"I regret that I cannot say the same for you, my lady. I told you so when I first met you at Storm's End years ago. Your reputation seems to only grow and grow, but my opinion of you has not changed in the slightest. You are a monster, and that you have managed to reach your position only makes you more dangerous." Ned stood up. He was a head taller than the lady of Dragonstone, but she did not seem the least bit intimidated by him.

"What happened at Storm's End is something I have regretted every day, Lord Stark. We were in a desperate situation, and it caused me and the entire garrison to react in a... uncivilized manner. Stannis is not proud of what happened, and neither am I, but at the time it seemed the right thing to do. The only thing we could do".

"Impaling prisoners in front of the walls of Storm's End, shooting men trying to retrieve corpses...and that wasn't even the worse. You should have been tried for your crimes," Ned said, spitting out his words. He didn't care that he had lost his composure.

"My husband took responsibility for those acts. And his majesty saw no crime in them," Edelgard said defiantly.

"We both know who was responsible for those atrocities. I spoke to some of the men in the garrison. Even though your husband allowed it, you gave the orders."

"It was a desperate situation..."

"Desperate? You've said that a lot already. Tell me, when you tried to kill Mace Tyrell when he surrendered, were you also in a desperate situation?"

Ned didn't stay to listen to her answer. He sheathed Ice, remembering that he had had it in his hand throughout the conversation, and marched briskly back to the castle. He knew that doing so was unbecoming of the lord of Winterfell, and even more so in the case of a guest who did not seem to have done anything offensive, but he could not disguise the disgust he felt for the woman. No, that monster. Years could pass, but someone of her caliber did not change just like that. Beneath that facade of nobility, she was still the same person, of that he was sure.

"Lord Eddard!" a voice called out to him. In front of him, just a few paces away, was one of the lady of Dragonstone's companions, Lady Nuvelle, if he remembered correctly. She, too, he had seen at Storm's End when he raised the siege and, unlike many of her companions, she had struck him as shy and helpful. "How good of me to find you!"

"Lady Nuvelle," Ned said, trying to hide his recent annoyance and hoping he had remembered her last name well. "I hope you are enjoying our lands. Though cold, its people are warm and welcoming."

"It's a magnificent land, indeed!" she said cheerfully, with such liveliness that it surprised him. Perhaps his memory was not as good as he thought. "Your maester has told me that the godswood possesses a magnificent heart tree. Could you direct me to it? The truth is, it's easy to get lost in this forest."

"If you follow this path in a few steps you will find it. You will also find your mistress there beside it."

"Oh! May I take it then that you have at last settled your differences? It was one of the reasons Lady Edelgard wanted to come here after all" said Lady Nuvelle smiling.

"I don't think that will ever happen, my lady. The differences between Lady Hresvelg and myself run too deep" replied Ned, who was preparing to leave.

"I see no reason why that should be so, my lord. I am sure we would both gain from this friendship, Lord Stark. For example, the Nuvelle Bank has not yet fully gained access to the northern market, and I believe your land could benefit from a thriving trade. I could grant you a very generous loan, so you could repair your castle, pave the roads..."

"Thank you for the offer, Lady Nuvelle, but I have no intention of accepting it. In the North we do not need your help nor that of your lady, however beneficial you think it might be."

"Why... I am sorry, then. It is foolish of you to earn her enmity, I warn you!" she said all lively.

"Excuse me?" said Ned somewhat perplexed.

"I didn't expect to have to repeat myself, Lord Stark. I was telling you that you are a complete fool if you earn my lady's enmity - it's as if you wish to be incinerated!"

"Was that a threat, my lady? Are you threatening me in my own house?"

"Nothing could be further from the truth! It was a warning, actually. Should you face us, your defeat is a certainty." With that, she turned and headed back inside the grove, leaving him alone with his thoughts.