Disclaimer: I make no claim to the ownership of ASOIAF or GOT.

AN-1: Chapter 4 is available on my Discord for those who want an early read, so join the server with the invite link on my profile if you are interested.

I have a P*T*R*N now, and you can read the NEXT TWO CHAPTERS and the WIP draft of SIXTH chapter right now by joining up there, which means advance content up to at least one month in advance, and more chapters will be added there as I type them. To find it, simply type PP092 in front of P*T*R*N URL.

A huge thanks to Kiozu and GodOfFeminine, who helped me a lot as the editors for this chapter.

"20 paces for about three seconds, that is all we can do after more than three years of practice."

"Speak for yourself, I have been doing this since we were six and I can barely reach 24 paces, though I admit that my stamina is certainly better than yours."

"Shut up stupid."

I rolled my eyes at her before snapping my fingers, melting the snow beneath her feet just enough to send her on her ass. Visenya's surprised cry was as funny as the snow which was thrown on her face by a long serpentine tail.

My eyes moved towards the perpetrator of such an attack on my sister and I gave a wide grin to him.

"Great work Vhyraxes!" I said, only to receive a snort and a plume of smoke to my face from the black and purple dragon, his face barely reaching my knee as he bumped into me. I stumbled slightly on the snow and fell backward with a shout, or at least I would have if not for the reddish-gold mound of scales that was behind me.

Quickly standing up from the prickly dragon's back—I meant that metaphorically and literally both—I rubbed my stinging ass as I glared at the spikes running down his spine. They may have looked harmless, barely grown stubs as they were, but if it weren't for the boiled leather breeches and a thick coat I wore then I probably would have scrubbed my ass raw on those things.

A foot hooked around my ankle and before I knew it, I was on the snowy ground with Visenya sitting on my back.

"Not so funny now, is it?" she asked as she pinched my ears. "How are you ever going to get up now?"

Spitting out some of the snow in my mouth, I twisted my neck around to look her in the eye peripherally before I smirked.

"Caraxes!"

A blue body immediately barreled into my sister, sending her tumbling sideways. As I sat up, Visenya scrunched up her nose and pointed at the blue dragon.

"You are not supposed to help him against me! You are not bonded to him now are you?" she asked, her tone turning wobbly and sad in the end as she somehow managed to look like a wounded pup.

Caraxes just rumbled deep in her chest and moved forwards towards my sister before she pushed against her chest, causing her to giggle and stroke the neck of the small reptile. Vhyraxes came to stand beside me, his golden eyes with slitted, black pupils looking into my own as I leaned forwards and scratched his jaw. His scales felt smooth, but I knew from the books that over the course of the next few years, these would harden into armor that nothing would be able to pierce, save for Valyrian steel.

After a few moments of nothing but silence, Vhyraxes immediately stood up and growled, causing Caraxes and Gaelithox to also stand up from their respective positions. They flared out their wings and took off towards their nest, vanishing into the dense Godswood within a blink of my eye.

"Lyanna! Jon!" came the voice of Robb as he came into the clearing, his auburn hair damp and sticking to his forehead. "Where were you both? A rider just came to the gates, Lord Umber and Lord Flint are about to arrive. Father wants you both there to greet them."

"We are coming," Lyanna said and grabbed my hand, pulling me forwards with her as we followed Robb out of the forest towards the gates of the castle.

For the tenth nameday celebration of the future warden of the North, the Lord and Lady Stark were throwing a feast and all the lords in the North were invited to it. The Mormonts and the Karstarks had already arrived, Rickard Karstark already hinting at a betrothal between Robb and his daughter Alys, a pretty girl with brown hair and bluish-grey eyes.

As we walked through the area in front of the Weirwood, my eyes were drawn towards the face carved into it. The tears formed from the red sap within it had stopped flowing out a long time ago, the crimson liquid now pooling within the grooves in such a way that the face seemed to give off a bloody grin with the sap dripping down over the bark. Exiting the godswood, we walked behind and soon came into the courtyard. The Warden of the North stood resplendent in his black and brown bearskin cloak, his wife standing in similar garb, her coat being a beautifully done brown and white piece.

Robb moved to stand beside his father, bringing everyone's attention to us. Uncle Ned gave us both a warm yet strained smile, his gaze lingering on Visenya's hair a tad bit longer than normal. Catelyn pursed her lips and gave us both a glare that was on par for her, though this time she held a special dose of malevolence in her eyes for my sister. Her one hand supported the young Brandon Stark, the other gently moving through his long brown hair.

Standing beside her were Sansa and Arya, the former looking at Visenya like my sister had spread ink over her embroidery while Arya gave a cheerful wave to us.

The Karstarks were standing a little to the side, with Harald and Torrhen Karstark standing in the front, little Alys standing behind them with her face barely visible as she peeked out.

Both of them moved behind to stand with the servants as they were instructed to do by Lady Stark and waited for the arrival of the Umbers and the Flints.

After some time the Umbers arrived first, Lord 'Greatjon' Jon Umber leading the party of about a dozen riders. I watched with awe as the giant man dismounted from his equally giant horse and walked forwards towards my uncle, his posture and gait not giving a single sign of his visible age. Giving a nod to my uncle with a hearty "Ned!", he embraced him and greeted my aunt before ruffling Robb's hair.

While it may not have been visible to everyone, I could see how his lips thinned for a moment when he glanced at the Heir of the Starks. Robb, despite being an excellent heir and a good child, had none of the looks the Starks or even the First men were known for. However, Greatjon's expression visibly brightened up when he saw Arya, her looks all Stark and Northern.

Next, he greeted the Karstarks while Jon Umber the 'Smalljon', his heir came forwards to greet the Starks, the man towering over most of the people around him save for Hodor, the Umber bannermen, and his own father. When everyone had greeted each other, Greatjon spotted Visenya in the back, her silver hair no doubt catching his attention.

I tensed the moment he stomped forwards towards us with everyone clearing up in a circle around us as the Lord of Last Hearth looked down at us.

"You look like a Targaryen," he spat out, nothing but loathing and anger in his voice.

Even though I knew that he was not objectively wrong since according to him Targaryens had brought nothing but agony to the North, something about the way Visenya was being looked at throughout the day caused me to snap and I said the first thing that came to my mind.

"And you are as big as a Mountain."

Gasps sounded all around us and Visenya clutched my arm as everyone caught on to the allusion I was making. Greatjon breathed in deeply and I heard his knuckles crack as he clenched his fists, for there were few men as hated through the continent as the Mountain-that-rides was hated, and it was not a compliment when you were compared to him. He raised his hand above him and shouts immediately pierced the suffocating silence around us. I pushed her behind me and felt the people around us move in as Greatjon's hand dropped. I flinched and immediately called upon my magic, a small spire of ice forming in my left hand, ready to push it in Greatjon's crotch when the most unexpected thing happened.

The Umber fucking laughed.

"YOU WILL GET OUT OF THIS CASTLE THIS INSTANT!"

Almost dropping his stamp on his own hand, Ned immediately shot out of his solar and headed towards the source of the shouting. While he knew his wife of ten years was a lot stiffer than the people in the North, he had never heard her shout at someone like she just did. Quickly following the rushing men and women around him, he arrived at a scene which made him blink in shock for a moment.

In the center of the corridor, his lady wife stood with an arm around his eldest daughter and Septa Mordane beside her. Their backs were towards him and to get a better look, he pushed forwards, the servants and guards quickly making way for their lord.

Arriving at her side, Ned gasped as he saw at whom she was shouting. Standing in front of them, with her head held high and a red mark on her face was none other than 'Old-Nan.' For a moment, the world stopped existing for him as he laid his eyes upon what his wife had done to the woman who for all intents and purposes, was a second mother to all of the Starks since his father had been a child.

"What is the meaning of this?" he hissed out, his storming grey eyes immediately snapping to his wife."What possible reason would you have to strike at the woman that has been a mother to me and my siblings and the caretaker of all of our children!"

Catelyn gulped, the raging steam within her extinguished at the beastly snarl in her husband's voice, reminding her of the tales of Northern barbarians for a moment.

Before she could say anything, Septa Mordane piped up with a sneer in her voice, "This 'Old-Nan' has been telling all sorts of stories to Lady Sansa and Lady Arya, which is completely nonsensical. And today this crone had the gall to say that that bastard is the most beautiful girl in all of the North. As if!"

Cries of outrage immediately rose all around them as she finished speaking, and for good reason. For as many years had anyone lived in the Castle, the Old-Nan had been a part of Winterfell with her stories and words of wisdom. And for someone to even think such things about the woman was the height of blasphemy, for a Septa of all things to say such, she was lucky that the guards didn't dare bare their steel in the presence of their Lord, Ned thought.

An egg immediately landed on the Septa's face, silencing everyone around them as they watched the fluid within drip down her gaping face.

The people immediately moved back, revealing Arya standing there with another egg ready to be thrown and a fearsome glare aimed at her target.

"She has more right to be in Winterfell than you, at least she isn't a miserable old bat who shrieks like a dying goat! And she treats my brother and sister like they should be treated! So what if she called Lyanna the most beautiful girl in the North? It is true, for you all have to be blind to not notice the fact! Robb himself has called her as such several times!"

Stunned didn't even begin to cover what Ned felt as he watched his youngest daughter berate and tear down the Septa right in front of everyone and her own mother.

For a moment, Ned was transported back to the day when Lyanna had met Robert for the first time, her own passionate cries of anger and outrage sounding much like his own daughter.

"Arya Stark! You will apologize for your words this instant!"

"I will not, you can ask Robb," she said stubbornly, stomping her foot on the ground before her eyes lit up as she looked at something past him and pointed at her mother.

"Tell them that I am not lying!"

He turned around to look at whoever was the person Arya spoke to, only to find his heir Robb fidgeting slightly, looking around uncomfortably at all the attention being focused on him. Besides him, Theon looked at the proceedings with great interest.

"Is Arya speaking the truth brother?" Sansa asked, her eyes wet with tears and clear marks going down her face.

With a sigh too heavy for a ten-year-old, Robb nodded hesitantly, knowing the amount of fuss his sister and mother were going to make of the act. As expected, Sansa and the damned Septa gasped while Catelyn's expression turned pinched as she immediately turned around and started walking away, Sansa's hand clutched in her own. Robb and Theon immediately vanished and so did Arya in the next few moments as everyone around them went away now that the drama was over.

With a heavy sigh, Ned walked back to his solar, resolving to talk to his wife about curbing in the Septa she brought with her. Moments into his work, Ned rubbed his forehead as he felt a headache kicking in, the events of this afternoon weighing heavily on his mind.

He had always known that by bringing Jon and Lyanna into Winterfell would be a sore point between him and his wife, but he had underestimated the amount of disgust and dare he says, the hatred she harbored for the twins.

Jon and Lyanna were the best of both of their parents. Both of them were quick to take to their numbers and words, and their progress in the yard was simply astounding for one so young. Both of them were stubborn to the fault too, much like how their mother had been, and at the same time, there was a sense of subtlety and to his annoyance, a certain amount of cunning in them.

Just yesterday he had seen Visenya wink at Theon, throwing him off balance enough for her to simply punt him between the legs with her training blade. He knew that despite having grown to love them over the years, there was a boundary between them that had never really been visible to him until the day when Lyanna had thrown the difference between her and his daughters right in the face when he had tried preventing her from going into the yard.

Pouring himself a cup of ale, he drank it down and watched the fire in the hearth crackle. Years ago when he had brought them North, it had been a decision made to save the twins from Robert and Lannisters...and much to his shame, save Robert's throne from a rebellion so soon after the war which had ravaged the continent.

He had been angry at the world for taking away his father and brother in the most disgusting, painful, and inhuman way possible and he had found an outlet for it, Rhaegar Targaryen. He had fought like a savage wolf on each and every battlefield, every soldier opposing him was nothing but a stepstone to reach Rhaegar and Aerys and end their reign over Westeros.

The North had marched with nothing but revenge and rescue on their minds, but within days of their advance, Robert had proclaimed that he would be the king after he killed the Targaryen King and his heir, by the right of conquest and blood.

His bannermen had tried dissuading him from such actions, having no desire of installing Robert as a king when Aegon and Viserys had been alive and well. but foolish as he had been in his love of Robert, he had agreed to throw the Northern Soldiers into the fray despite their words.

He had thought that Robert would send the Martell household and the royal family back to Dorne or the Dragonstone but even in his wildest dreams, he never could have imagined that such carnage would happen and Robert would just laugh it off.

Greyjoy Rebellion happened half a decade after that and when he came back, it was only to hear from Old-Nan how he was disrespecting the North and his forefathers by allowing a Septa to dictate his children's education.

"Theon Stark would have cut off his balls to prevent you from being born had he known this was going to happen!" she had said before walking off on the very first night of his return, leaving him in the darkness and solitude of his solar with unanswerable questions running through his mind.

And now this was the only thing left to happen. Sansa was a beautiful girl and despite his pride and love as a parent, Ned could easily see why Lyanna would be considered prettier than his own daughters.

Slightly wavy silver hair and a beautiful face with violet eyes, she was the stereotypical Valyrian beauty with only the rumors of his dalliance with Ashara and his reputation of being honorable and truthful keeping anyone from believing the said connection.

Sansa prided herself on her looks and her prospect as a perfect lady and for a bastard to outshine her was quite a big jolt to her, especially considering how entrenched she was into the Southern customs, where being born on the wrong side of the sheets was less desirable than being killed.

Deciding to talk to Sansa and Arya later in the day, Ned called for Jory and told him to bring Robb to his solar, the man nodding and rushing off. It was moments after that, that the guard outside opened the door and peeked in.

"My lord, Lord Karstark requests to speak with you."

"Send him in, Gerald, and send for some lemon cakes too while you are at it."

With a nod, the guard moved back and Lord Karstark strode in moments later. As old as the man was, Ned knew from personal experience that he was a formidable warrior and much akin to a raging bull than to the wolves he had descended from. Grey eyes peered into his own as Rickard sat down and glared at him.

"Have I done something to displease you?" he asked, pouring a cup of ale for both of them. "I have not refused your proposal of Alys marrying my son."

"After what I heard today, I don't think that is such a good idea."

Ned grimaced, knowing that what happened today was going to be a stain on his capabilities as a lord for as long he lived, and it may very well follow his son too.

"Lord Rickard," he began as he took a sip from his mug, "I admit my household's less than stellar state, but rest assured that I will talk with my lady wife and the Septa both. I will personally make sure that nothing of this sort will happen again."

Nodding at his words, the aged lord took drank some ale and looked at him seriously.

"You will need to rein in your household Lord Stark, for the coming days might as well destroy your eldest daughter if the way she behaved today is any indication."

"What do you mean?" he asked, knowing that Karstark wasn't the one to embellish things."Is someone planning something against her?"

"None of that sort, no," He waved away his words with a hand and responded, "It is just that the Septa you allowed to worm her way into the North and your own wife keeps telling her that she is the most beautiful girl in the North and she is one day probably going to be queen. All those songs, tales of knights and gallantry have turned her into...an empty-headed girl if I were to be truthful."

"Hear me out," Karstark said with a raised hand as Ned banged his fist on the table, his grey eyes glaring murder at him. "Traders and travelers from the White Harbour to the Last Hearth and the Bear Island speak of your daughter's beauty. The last time when you sent the men of the Reach with the Stark bannermen to deliver the grain, my boys heard them talk about how pretty your daughter is and how 'her silver hair looked like liquid moonlight when she danced with a sword in her hand'."

Understanding the problem finally that it was his bastard daughter who was known as the most beautiful girl in the North, Ned rubbed his brow as he felt his already existing headache reach new levels.

"Why bring this to my attention?"

"Because most of the North is not happy with how you have let things run out of hand. A sept in the North we can handle when our lady is a southerner but in the very heart of our kingdom? In Winterfell itself? And If that wasn't enough, all of your children save for your bastards and Arya follow the Seven. I haven't seen your heir and our future lord enter the Godswood even once!", Karstark shouted in the end, making Ned feel more and more shocked and tired at the same time.

"Do you know what else I saw? Your daughter and that Poole girl were calling Arya 'horceface'. A steward's daughter, Ned! Can you imagine what Lady Lyarra would have done had she seen what Arya was hearing from her own sister and a fucking servant?"

"What?", Ned gasped, remembering all those times he had seen Sansa and Jeyne laughing at Arya, thinking it to be nothing but harmless fun between the girls. "I swear by the Old Gods, I didn't know anything about it."

"Of course you didn't, you don't have a single observant bone in your body unless there is a fight. Your wife treats your bastards like they are lower than the servants and you don't lift a finger to help your children. I wonder why you even brought them here? It would have been better to leave them in Dorne, at least there they treat bastards better than you ever did."

Each word felt like a blow to his heart and he wanted to shut Karstark up in the most painful way he could think of, but the rational part of his mind knew that his fellow lord was right.

He never could let go of the resentment and the anger he had held for the twins' parents. Each time he looked at them intending to finally treat them as his children, the unknown faces of thousands of deaths caused by their parents swam through his mind and he would once again distance himself from them, despite wanting nothing but to hug and cherish them.

Nodding tiredly at him, Ned prepared to dismiss the man when he asked, "Why do you care if my bannermen are happy or not or how my household is being run?"

"Why not? I am just looking out for my daughter's future and even though distant, Karstark and Starks will always be kin. I am just looking out for the boy I see as my nephew." Rickard replied with a laugh as he stood up and dipped his head before moving out, leaving behind a thoroughly drained Warden of the North.

"And you are as big as a Mountain"

In the clamor surrounding him, Ned only had eyes for the two children staring unflinchingly at Jon Umber, even though he could see the sweat that beaded on both of their foreheads. When he saw Greatjon raise his hand, he ran forwards, knowing that even if the giant man just smacked Jon, it would undoubtedly cause grievous injury to his secret nephew.

He was almost through the crowd when he was the most unexpected thing he had ever seen.

Greatjon was laughing madly and bending over to ruffle Jon's hair and slap his back like long parted friends. Thankfully, the bemused faces around him were the confirmation he hadn't gone mad and wasn't hallucinating.

"You have got balls runt!," he said as he stopped laughing, "Nice to see at least one of Ned's children has got teeth on them."

"You should spend five minutes with Arya if you are looking to get bitten."

Greatjon barked a short laugh and then stepped away from the children, moving towards the stunned and absolutely baffled Warden of the North with a huge grin on his face.

Soon the Flints had also arrived, the Mormonts and the Boltons arriving within the same day too. the rest of the day until the dinner feast was spent with Ned talking with his lords and taking note of anything problematic.

As always, Greatjon complained about wildlings, with Maege supporting the man. Roose Bolton was the quietest of the bunch, his pale glassy eyes watching everyone and speaking only when spoken to. Lord Flint and Jon had cited the need to stock up grain, since this summer was shaping up to be a long one, and thus an equally long winter would be sure to follow it.

That night at the dinner, Ned, Catelyn and the lords sat at the high table, the children sitting at one below them while the members of households sat across the hall. Ale and food flowed freely, the atmosphere festive in its entirety as toasts were made to House Stark and Heir Robb, making the almost ten nameday boy blush heavily, the Ironborn besides him not helping the matters with his japing.

However unknown to the Lord and Lady of the castle, many of the lords were slightly displeased by the seating arrangement for the two 'Bastards of Winterfell'. Jon and Lyanna had been made to sit in the farthest table from their father and trueborn siblings, and too behind so many servants and guards that it was only by Lyanna's silver hair the Lords were able to catch glimpses of the pair. Soon it was the hour of the wolf and everyone went to sleep, the lords—and the lady Mormont—keeping themselves awake with ale and tales in equal quantities.

The next morning all the lords assembled on the balcony above the training yard, watching their heirs and various men practice their swordsmanship.

Smalljon and Harrion were the best out of all of them, the age giving them more power and experience to trounce over the younger boys.

However, it was Dacey Mormont and Lyanna Snow who took most of the attention. Dacey's talent with a sword was well-known throughout the North, the girl having caved in many heads of reavers and wildlings alike, but watching Lyanna Snow handle a blunted bastard sword as easily as any boy her age, possibly more was a shock to many of them.

"I...will get...you!" the silver-haired girl half-groaned and snarled out at the older woman as she lunged forwards, sweat falling off her head. "Why the fuck can't you stay still?"

Chuckling at the girl, Dacey spun the longsword in her arms expertly, the tip diverting away Lyanna's thrust and throwing her arm wide open. Her sword came down on her shoulder from above in the same motion but Lyanna twisted just enough to make it pass beside her and slammed the pommel of her sword into her ribs.

Gasping at the sudden pain, Dacey received one more thrust to her abdomen from the disbelievingly talented girl before she decided to wrap it up. Bringing her sword up diagonally, she parried Lyanna's overhead strike and kicked her in the chest, sending her sprawling back on her ass and ending the spar.

"You should have slammed that hilt into her nose, maybe then you would have gotten a chance to get her neck." came the voice of Lyanna's brother, Jon Snow.

"And is that what you would have done?" Dacey asked the dark-haired boy, raising an eyebrow at him. "You lasted only twice as long as she did and even then you didn't get as many strikes on me as she did."

"Because those things were distracting me", came the swift comeback from the boy as he walked forwards and hauled his groaning sister off the ground, his gaze turning towards Mormont's chest for a moment.

"Kid has got balls on him, I will give him that," Maege muttered after what he meant registered in everybody's minds. Her daughter seemed to have gotten it too, for her face turned red and her eyes blazed as she growled. Jon meanwhile had disappeared into the throng of the men around him, leaving a scandalized Lyanna gaping after him with a she-bear glaring daggers in the direction he had walked into.

"Ha! You are right Maege, never heard anyone say that to a she-bear right to her face, reminds me of how Lyanna and Brandon were!"

"Lyanna called you a drunken oaf who had a brain too small for his size." Maege deadpanned at the Lord of Last Hearth, causing him to shut up immediately and Karstark to chuckle, remembering the incident.

"Ned," Lady Mormont said after a few moments as they started moving towards the stables. "What do you think about sending your daughter to Bear-island for fostering?"

Eddard was quite surprised by the request and just stared at Maege for a few moments but after thinking about the proposal, found nothing wrong with it. Lyanna would be out of Winterfell and Catelyn's sight, thus lessening her rants about the 'bastard', and at the same time, the girl would be happy with the Mormonts, having struck up a quick friendship with Dacey from what he saw this morning.

"Aye," he said as they emerged into the yard where their horses were waiting for them, a dozen guards and the Umber and Karsark heir joining the lords for the trip. "Lyanna will be delighted, though I don't think she will part with Jon easily."

Maege just chuckled and shook her head as she climbed on her mare. "Send him too, I am sure we will have plenty of things for him to learn there, and honestly, I want someone bold enough to taunt Dacey close by me. It gets awfully boring up there."

"Just don't get the boy killed Maege, your girl looked like she wanted to brain the lad right then and there." Lord Flint chuckled, causing guffaws all around him.

"He said the truth though," Harrion muttered to Smalljon who nodded at his fellow heir. "Her tits do look wonderful when crammed up in that leather-OW!"

"That is my daughter you are speaking of!" Maege growled as she retracted her hand from where she had cuffed the man, causing him to shrink away from her and mumble out an apology, much to the amusement of his father and the men around him.

"Now let's find a buck worthy to be the meal of our future lord!" Rickard said and spurred his horse into a gallop, a wide grin on the aged man's face as everyone followed after with cheers and shouts of approval.