Ned holds the mirror Haedrian, or Harry as he asked to be called, had thrown towards him and told him to just call Sirius's name and that he had to go check up with his grandfather. The girls are in the chambers adjacent to the sitting room in the guest quarters of the Hightower, something that is a marvel to be up close to.

The mysterious black stone soaks up all the light at the base, making for an eerie visage as if the tower is floating in a shadow.

Clearing his throat, he calls out awkwardly, "Sirius." He watches as his reflection seems to warble and then shimmer to reveal the familiar face of his second youngest brother and most faithful companion to have.

The surprise on Sirius's face morphs into one of excitement and relief, "Neddy! You have Harry's mirrors so that means you're safe, right?"

"Where is he anyway?"

Ned merely chuckles, "The lad has been busy making sure we have been comfortable," Ned can see the smug pride as his brother beams.

"Told you my godson is the best!"

Sombering Sirius asks, "How are the girls?"

Ned sighs, rubbing his face, "I think they'll be alright, fortunately, they have a lot of distractions to soothe their trauma."

"I bet, I'm sure Harry is spoiling them rotten, be careful that one has a way of wrapping you around his thumb."

Ned can only laugh, "Aye, I think it's a little late for that."

After a second he clears his throat, "How's the boys?"

Sirius sighs, "Rickon is missing everyone, especially your wife, Bran is still struggling with his injury."

"My wife?"

But Sirius ignores him and continues, "Robb has been overwhelming himself trying to prove himself, and I think knowing you guys are out of immediate danger will take a lot of the stress off them."

"What about cat Cat?" He cuts off confused, and he has to wince as the cold expression frosts over his brother's face.

"She left in the middle of the night, and took off to her sisters, according to the letter found by her maid."

"She what?" He asks, feeling dread as they are in a very precarious situation.

The Lannisters previously had three of the vital people having been held hostage, now that they are not being imprisoned he can assume that the boy king will do something drastic. Now he has to deal with his wife deciding to risk the enemy gaining a hostage.

"Why?" He asks again, quiet like his namesake.

"Her sister sent for her, is all she said," Sirius replies, rubbing his face.

"Uncle, I can see you in the mirror!" Arya cries out, popping up from behind the couch he had been sitting in.

The room is spacious enough to have a whole set of furniture, from an intricate sitting table to the small library and desk off to the side. A fireplace provides a warm glow to offset the residue that cold big stone castles can get.

Sirius seems to soak up the bright eyes of his daughter and Ned can't blame the man.

"Hello, little Pup, you seem well." His brother chirped, and his boisterous attitude dialed down.

"I can't wait to show you my new moves! I'm going to be training under the sand snakes! Hah!" She says bouncing and Ned can only smile.

It heals his soul each time he sees his children smile, it helps him not focus on what if.

What if Haedrian hadn't been here?

He needs to stop being a fool and start being the lord of the North.

Gently prying the mirror from his daughter he addresses his brother, "Sirius, I want you to assemble your pack."

"Oh," his brother inquires with a savage grin.

"A Pack?" Arya asks, confused and excited.

Ned nods to the guard who escorted him to the lord's study. He only allowed his daughters out of his sight because he has come to trust Harry, and knows the kind young man would sooner cut his foot off than allow his children to be hurt.

He takes a deep breath as he enters and is surprised at how young the older lord, who most haven't seen outside his tower in over a decade. The man's salt and pepper hair was styled back and cut to his shoulders.

Leyton is currently chatting with Haedrian and his eldest Baelor who is playfully holding the younger lord in a headlock.

"Oi, cut it out breakwind!" Harry says ducking out of the older man's hold with a playful scowl.

Baelor pauses with mirth, looking down at him in mock offensive, "Why little nephew the betrayal." He whispers like he's made a great offense.

Lord Hightower peers over them and meets his guarded gaze with a calculated one, "Lord Stark, I'm glad to see you are well."

Tersely Ned nods, "Aye," Though he sincerely says, "And I have your grandson to thank for that, my lord." Lord Leyton laughs and waves his formalities off and motions for him to come to sit by his bar off to the side.

"Nonsense, we are both too old and you are a guest of my grandson, call me Leyton." Ned can hear the man's love for his children and grandchildren as he gazes at the two roughhousing, despite Baelor being around his age the man seems spry as a child.

"Ned then," he says, taking the offered glass of arbor wine, not his preference but he doesn't mind it.

"So, According to the letters Stannis sent out the blonde boy is a bastard and a product of incest, I take it you were imprisoned for such knowledge." And Ned thanks the gods he has a syringe drink for this conversation.

"Aye,"

The lord gives him a look, one that he gets often enough by southerners, he is from the north where the people are too worried about surviving the next winter to play games. He has been taught by one of the most honorable men and people still are surprised.

"I'm sure you tormented yourself enough that my opinion isn't necessary, nor are we close enough that it should matter."

The man tips his glass, "I commend you, most would stray from their values, brave, stupid, or foolish. It doesn't matter, that takes strength."

Ned tips his glass back, "Aye, I guess."

"Ned save me!" Harry cries ducking behind the seat he is sitting on and peeking over his shoulder as Baelor comes stomping with his hair color being royal purple.

"You think a Paramount will save you!" Baelor roars with no real heat as he swipes for the younger man, who in turn ducks and runs off.

"When I get you!" Baelor promises as he chases Harry.

"Aren't they lively," Leyton muses with fondness.

"Aye, they are." He says with a slight smile.

Tyrion shivers keeping to the wall as far back away from the cold giant opening that drops off thousands of feet. He can feel the uneven surface of the wall digging into his back, but the snagging sensation is soothing to his fear that a great wind will sweep him away.

It's times like these when his mind torments him with cruel jokes about his misfortune.

The blasted woman, Catelyn Stark. While she is a beautiful woman, if a little too prudish for his taste. A snobbish cunt if he will.

Hey, If he wasn't a prisoner of her vile and delusional sister he'd be more kind in his head.

He wonders how his father is going to react to this.

Will he even care? The man will probably throw a party and send Lysa a reward for getting rid of the lion's stain. He coughs around his chapped lips cupping his hand and trying to stay warm as the night air bubbles in.

He doesn't know if he's going to make it out of this.

If only he had some wine.

Harry shakes his head and picks up Baelor's youngest as they slam into his legs. He still doesn't know how to handle having so many family members in this life.

The little boy, not even five years old, has the infamous silver locks that his mother has along with the chocolate eyes of his mother Rhonda Rowan. Lifting the lid he puffs his cheeks making the boy giggle, "And what do you think you are doing Remmy?"

He still can't believe they allowed him to name the boy, despite his good aunt being the one who insisted.

"Nothing!" Remmy sings wiggling as he adjusts.

"Who's the pretty one?" Remmy says pointing towards Arya much to his amusement.

"Wait, me!?" Arya asks dubiously before turning to Sansa with a sly grin, "Hah! You're the ugly one now!"

"Shit up!" Sansa hisses with an embarrassed blush.

"Arya!" Ned says sternly, "Don't talk to your sister like that."

"But, she always calls me-" she stops herself.

Ned raises his brow at the suddenly sheepish Sansa, "she always what?"

Harry shares a look with his baby cousin and decides to dip out before things get awkward, he catches some of the spiel as he walks away.

"…her friends would call me…."

Sirius trots through the foliage and dances through the trees as he sprints through the forest, his paws spitting up snow as he makes his way toward his pack. He can't say he's disappointed with the change in his animagus form, even if it's only the fact that he's at least three times as big as he had been. His pitch-black fur blends into the shadows and his scenes are even more powerful than when he had been a Grimm.

He breaks through the shadows and comes to an encampment of men who are under his command, he has them surveying the land and keeping the peace. Like the modern police, just on a much smaller scale. They mainly focus on bandits and the like while not under orders. Most are men who he met in his travels and some are second sons of his brother's vassals, who wanted to prove themselves.

One agreement they have to undergo is a vow of silence about his quirks, though given that those in this society are zealous with oaths it wasn't that hard. The black in him is proud of how easy it was.

"My lord," a newer younger soldier says, startled and eager as he approaches, his sword clinking alerting them. It was somehow still attached to his hips.

That is the wonder of being an animagus.

He reaches out and ruffles the kid's hair, "What's up squirt?" He says purely to see the kid fuss.

And to his satisfaction the boy ducks out of his hold with a petulant scowl, "I'm not a squirt,"

Then with a confused face, he adds, "Whatever that means,"

"Whatever it means, I agree with 'em, Cregan." The aforementioned Cregan squawks in offense, like a lot of northerners most tend to give their children a namesake in honor of the Starks, believing that it blesses their children with good fortune.

"My lord!" The man who spoke before steps forward, his gray beard braided with stones.

"What brings you here? Are we finally going to fight a lord!" Bryan, one of the captains of his force, asks brandishing his battle ax.

"Aye, the winds of winter are howling and we must prepare."

A/n:

For clarification, Lysa snatched up Tyrion without Catelyn (with the help of Baelish ofc), then messaged Catelyn because at that point everyone still assumed ned and the girls were still captive (and arya dead)

What will Tywin do to the Riverlands since two Tully's are fucking with his son?

How do you like the Hightowers, Baelor breakwind everyone.