Ned

The direwolf was still asleep when he looked into the kennels. The other occupants were very quiet indeed – not cowed, more in awe of the giant creature. He looked at it in some bemusement. The previous night had been odd. He remembered it but vaguely, as if it had all been a dream. He had felt like a puppet, made to dance at the whim of another. Well, 'whim' was the wrong word. Intent was the right word. He had felt the grim intent behind the thoughts of the dead man who had possessed him. He just couldn't work out what had triggered it. Had it been one of the artefacts in that maddeningly confusing secret room in his solar? Had it been something else? In which case what?

He sighed and then turned away. The arrival of the direwolf was a worrying sign. The fact that he had been possessed by one of his ancestors was even more worrying. Why had it happened? For what reason? Was it that the Old Gods were forcing matters somewhat? If so then why? He remembered that Robb had told him that originally the mother direwolf had been killed by a stag antler in the neck. The symbolism of that troubled him. Yet here she was, alive and unharmed. And dangerous. What would she be like when she woke up?

And despite that why was he not afraid of her? Because the fact was that he was not. Why? He did not know.

Hearing the sound of approaching feet – and heavy feet at that – he looked over. GreatJon Umber was approaching and he looked a little wary. Not that Ned could blame him. His old friend had been rather disturbed to see that red fire in his eyes. And also awed. Everyone in Winterfell who had laid eyes on him during his possession still looked at him with the same kind of awe.

It was all a bit much, frankly. Still, if the worst came to the worst and the Wall fell and he had to order his people North to meet the Others, he had little doubt that they would heed his call.

"Morning Ned," the GreatJon boomed. "So, how is she?"

Ned quirked an eyebrow at the sleeping direwolf. "Asleep."

The Lord of the Last Hearth peered at the creature. "I heard that someone was saying that your kennels were originally built to house direwolfs. They look big enough."

"Aye," Ned said thoughtfully. "Luwin's very excited and is going through the records again. And Robb's looking at the objects in my solar. I wonder when my ancestors lost the link to the animals?"

The GreatJon frowned in thought. "Maybe the same time that you forgot that that Godswood was in the Wolfswood. Maybe when direwolfs no longer came South of the Wall, or were hunted instead being tamed. Maybe someone died too young or too unexpectedly, before they could pass the secret on." He winced a little. "I bloody near wet meself when I saw your eyes Ned."

He eyed his old friend. "Glad you didn't. Might have been messy."

This got him a guffaw, which was interrupted by the sound of a horn being blown from outside the gate, answered by a horn from the gatehouse. They both turned to face in that direction and after a moment Rodrik Cassel puffed his way towards them. "Beg pardon my lords, but there is a party of men approaching. They bear the banner of House Reed."

"Howland Reed, at last," Ned grunted. "Admit them at once." As the older Cassel walked off he stroked his chin and then looked at the GreatJon. "He said that he was on his way here, but I expected him a day or so earlier."

The gates creaked open and a party of men rode through, with the leading pair of riders bearing the banner of House Reed, the black lizard-lion on a green field. Behind them rode a small man dressed in green clothing, who looked about the courtyard as soon as he entered. As soon as he caught sight of Ned he waved and then dismounted rapidly, before handing the reins to one of his men and then walking swiftly over to the Lord of Winterfell. He was followed by a boy and a girl, both in their teens with brown, almost red, hair and both also clad in green. He could tell at a glance that they were related to Howland.

The Lord of Greywater Watch strode up to Ned and the GreatJon and then, much to Ned's surprise, he formally went to one knee, followed by the two children and then the rest of the Crannogmen behind us. "Lord Stark, the Stark in Winterfell, House Reed had obeyed your summons," his old friend said in a formal voice. "Command us and we will obey."

Ned looked down at Howland. "Stand, Howland, I would never have you kneel to me," he protested. "And welcome to Winterfell, you and your men."

Howland stood and then stepped to one side and gestured at the two children. "My son Jojen and my daughter Meera. Children – Lord Eddard Stark."

The two stood and then bowed formally and Ned looked at them carefully. Meera was the elder and had what looked like a cheerful face that seemed to be unnaturally solemn at the moment. Jojen… well the boy looked as if he had once been blind but now could see for the first time, judging by the way that he was blinking at things.

"Ned," Howland said quietly, "I must talk to you at once. The moment that I heard the call from Winterfell – a call that rang through Greywater Watch as nothing has for a thousand years – I knew that I had to see you. My children too. Especially Jojen – as he is a Greenseer."

Ned stared at the boy, who shifted a little under his gaze and then looked back at Howland. "A… a Greenseer?"

"Aye," Howland said quietly. "His dreams come true."

"Although, Lord Stark – your pardon father – of late they have changed," the boy piped up suddenly. And then he paled. "I see that you have Fr… your direwolf already."

All three crannogmen were staring over his shoulder and Ned looked behind him. To his astonishment the direwolf was sitting at the entrance to the kennels and was looking at them all intently. When she saw him looking at her she tilted her head and then blinked and it was at that moment that he realised that the fur above her eyes had changed colour a little. It almost looked like the shape of a hand.

"'Tis a long story," Ned said wryly. "Very well – let us go to my solar and discuss this."

Robb

Grey Wind was in Winterfell. Well, he was in his mother, who was in Winterfell, but at least he was here. And he was safe. He thought about the day that he first met Grey Wind, the day that the Night's Watch deserter had been executed. The day that they'd found the she-direwolf dead with a stag's antlers in her throat. That had been a day of portents. Worse – clear portents.

How had they missed it at the time? How could they have failed to see the connection?

He sighed and then moved on from where he had been staring out at the Wolfswood. What else had been lost, or forgotten?

Sensing movement to one side he saw Maester Luwin walking towards him, or at least in his general direction as he had his nose in a large book. Walking and reading was not a good idea, as was proved when the Maester almost fell over the hem of his robes.

"Careful there, Maester Luwin!" Robb said with a smile as he reached out with a hand and steadied him.

The older man looked up. "Ah – Lord Robb! I've been going through the histories again and I think that I have found some references to the Godswood where your lord father met the direwolf!"

This was interesting. "What references?"

"See, here. The histories make a reference to 'Yr place of ye Oaths' and 'ye olde Godswood.' Now, I always thought that those were references to the Godswood here in Winterfell, but there are other references to 'Yr Starke ryding to yr Oathplace'. And then apparently riding back with a wolf companion. It's unclear why the link was broken though."

Robb looked over the faded, spidery hand on the page and found himself nodding. "Perhaps someone died early, before the knowledge could be passed on. Or the direwolves stopped coming South of the Wall. That's the first one that we've known of in years. There might be more information in the room in Father's solar."

"That was what I thought to. Your lord father is there now, talking to Lord Reed and his children though."

Howland Reed, Jojen and Meera. That was another change from the past that he remembered. The Reed children had been sent to him to pledge the loyalty of their house after he was proclaimed the King in the North. But Lord Reed had stayed in the Neck, and he remembered that the GreatJon had told him that Howland Reed had not left the Neck since he returned from Robert's Rebellion. There was a tale in there somewhere and he needed to talk to Father about it.

"Then we shall talk to Father about this when he is free."

Dany

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining but it wasn't too hot. Today the wind was blowing softly from the West, enough to cool and also to fill the air with the smell of the herbs that grew not too far away. She loved days like today. Well, she usually did.

She was starting to worry about her brother. Viserys had always worried her more than a bit – he always took things passionately, sometimes to the point of anger – or even fury. When 'the dragon' was roused then Viserys could be vicious – and violent. More violent of late than usual. Their descent in penury had come as a shock. Hearing Viserys being called 'The Beggar King' had been a shock. Seeing his reaction once he properly heard what was being called out – that still made her flinch.

And now he had his dragon egg. Magister Motapis had given it to him two nights previously, a large egg that was so black that it seemed to be almost another colour. Viserys had been more than delighted, he had been enraptured and had instantly dismissed the Magister's gift to her of three far smaller dragon eggs.

In fact he was still as enraptured now over his large egg as he had been before Possible even more. He spent hours every day stroking the egg and whispering to it.

"I shall call him Balerion the Greater Black Dread, because he will be greater and more dreadful than the dragon flown by our ancestors," he had told her in a gloating voice. "And when has hatched and grown enough I shall fly him on black wings. First to Storm's End and burn out the fortress of the Usurper. And then on to Casterley Rock, to find and eat the traitor Lannister. The Eyrie next, to snuff out the Arryns and then the hovel that is Winterfell, killing all the barbarian Starks. Only then shall I fly on wings of vengeance to Kings Landing – and then I'll hunt the usurper through the halls of our ancestors and find him and have Balerion the Greater Black Dread eat him!"

She shivered a little at the memory of the sound of his voice. There had been something… wrong with the timbre of it. A sick fascination. Yes, she was worried about him.

Hearing voices to one side she pressed a little deeper into the alcove by the side of the balcony overlooking the main square of Pentos. She loved this view, but it could be infuriating to be so near but so far to the life and energy of the city.

Especially as she had heard so much about the newest people to enter the city. They were the Company of the Rose and they sounded, well, romantic to her when she had heard about them. The problem was that Viserys had also heard about them, but had had a different reaction. He had insisted that he lead a party down to the city to recruit them. "They claim to be of the North, from Westeros," he had proclaimed self-importantly. "I am their rightful king, therefore they should be fighting for me. Especially as those Dothraki savages have all vanished Eastwards."

That had not been a tactful thing to say to the Magister, although he had admittedly looked puzzled whenever any mention was made of the Dothraki, who behaviour had apparently baffled everyone. That said, his response to Viserys and his comments had been rather firm.

"That would not be a good idea my king. You must remember that this… rather bizarre company of sellswords are exiles from the North for a reason. They refused to bend the knee to your illustrious ancestor Aegon the Conqueror. And despite the fact that that was centuries ago they still, I am told, do not love Targaryens. They would not follow you my king. They might even wish you violence."

Which had eventually – after some muttering – shut her brother up.

The sound of voices receded but then she heard the sound of horns in the distance and she craned her neck as she peered down. Far below she could see horsemen entering a square with what looked like furled banners. And then she wondered if she could get down there and see what was going on.

But perhaps she first needed to find a cloak and a cowl?

Ned

When they entered his solar Ned noticed that Howland stopped and stared the moment that he saw all the books – and then again at the map. He had ordered a new one to be drawn up, showing the settlements that he now knew existed North of the Wall, but for the meantime he had the old one, albeit annotated and in a more prominent position. And Howland stared at it in astonishment.

"What are those… places in the lands beyond the Wall Ned?"

"Wildling settlements," Ned said tersely as he poured some wine for his friend and some watered wine for the Reed children. "Mance Rayder was here a matter of days ago."

"The Wildling King Beyond the Wall?" And then Howland stared at his son, who looked a little startled. "The king with no crown who kneeled to the wolf?"

"Aye father," Jojen Reed said in an emotion-choked voice. "As I described it."

This made Ned stop and pause, before waving at them all to be seated. "You dreamt it?"

"I did Lord Stark."

Ned stroked his chin and then looked at Howland. "The legends of the Greensight are true then. And if those are true I wonder what else is?"

"Your pardon Ned, but you do not seem too surprised by this." Howland pointed this out with an odd, unreadable expression. "But then we did all hear the Call to Winterfell. It fair made Greywater Watch shake as nothing else has for a thousand years or more."

"You sound as if you knew what it was."

"Ned, we Crannogmen… we do not forget. We are of the North and we have never been conquered. And we remember the things that others might forget. There are tales of objects in Winterfell, things owned by your ancestors. Things made by your ancestors. You must have had good reason to send out that call."

Ah. Time for a little candour. "Howland," he said with more than a little weariness, "I did not know that I was doing it at that time. But it had to be done. The Others have returned, Howland. The Long Night comes. We must prepare. I thank the Old Gods that they allowed me to see what must be done, especially as I knew nothing of anything."

Howland paled a little at this. "You… knew nothing of what?"

"Brandon was the heir. Father must have told him of what might happen if the Others came again. I knew not. I do not even know how much my father told Brandon. All I know is that… for various reasons that I shall you about later, GreatJon Umber came to Winterfell with the Hearthstone that his family have protected for many long years. And it gave me a vision."

Ned stood and walked over to the map and then pointed at Hopemourne. And then, as he opened his mouth, Jojen Reed broke in. "The home of the enemy. The place that knows no hope. The long mountain with the old prison and the gate that was broken open." The boy was white as a sheet and shaking. "I have seen it in my dreams Lord Stark. And other things."

This was important, he could feel it and he sat quickly before the boy even as Howland pulled his own chair closer and Meera peered at him worriedly. "Go on lad. What else have you seen?"

"My dreams… have changed. I once dreamt that the sea came to Winterfell, drawn there by an empty man who belonged to both." Theon, thought Ned with a shock. "But then that changed. The sea piled up into a great wave along the coasts of the North, but then it did not move – instead it froze. I could see men within that frozen wave, hammering at the ice. And then it went South. And as it moved a wolf made from seawater howled at it and snarled at it."

Theon again? Ned thought, confused. But a different Theon perhaps? How much has he changed these past months? "What else?"

"A stag shed its horns as it found a great sword. Found a purpose too. I dreamt a small man became a great one, helped by a man who rose from the dead who had never been dead. And I dreamt of an empty lion with broken sword who stood on a precipice with death on one side and heroism on the other. And… last night I dreamt of a sword of light, from the stars. It drove back the shadows – but it wasn't enough. It needed more." He sank back in his seat and then rubbed at his forehead. "Your pardon Lord Stark. Father. Dark have been my dreams of late. And… I cannot see it anymore."

Ned looked at the boy, confused. He noted that Howland looked shocked and Meera looked a little smug. "It?" He prompted.

The boy looked back at him levelly. "The moment of my death. I have known it for some time my Lord. Or I did. I cannot see it now."

Ned leant back in his chair and then looked at all three of the Reeds in turn. "You children look tired – I think you should join my family as they break their fast. Jojen, should you see anything else, please let me know at once. Howland – please stay. I'll have food brought up. There are things that you should know and other things that you need to see."

When the children left Ned made sure that the door of his solar was locked before he turned back to his friend with a smile. "I thought that you would never leave the Neck again! 'Tis good to see you old friend."

"Aye, Ned, you too. But first you need to know something. I left Greywater Watch not just because of Jojen's dreams. Something else has happened. We found signs that a great body of people had crossed into the North."

He stared at Howland. "What? When?"

"We do not know exactly. They passed by an old path in the Neck. That's what concerns me Ned. 'Tis a very old path. Old enough that it is almost never used by Crannogmen these days. So whoever they are we don't know exactly when they passed through the Neck. But not more than a month ago."

He thought furiously for a long moment. No word had reached him yet about any violence from the area, so whoever they were they were keeping a low profile. But who were they?

"Any idea of their numbers?"

"Hard to tell due to the nature of the ground. At least a thousand though. As soon as I heard I ordered that Moat Cailin be reinforced at once, and restored as much as possible. I beg your pardon if I overstepped my bounds but-"

"Howland, you did the right thing, think nothing on it." He paused. "I will send a raven to King's Landing at once on this. Whoever these people are they must have come from somewhere."

The Lord of Greywater Watch nodded shortly. Then he looked at Ned. "I stayed in the Neck to protect the secret. Does the boy know yet?"

"He does," Ned said softly. "I had to tell him. Fortunately Maester Aemon was here at the time."

Howland's forehead wrinkled. "Maester Aemon? From Castle Black?"

"Aye. His nearest relative."

The eyes of the Crannogman widened for a moment – and then narrowed a little. "Ah. Of course. I had forgot his full name. What will the boy do?"

"The world knows him as my son. I have written to Robert to ask him to legitimise him." He pulled a slight face. "I did not think about the pain he feels when people call him a bastard, even though it is of no fault of his own. He will be a Stark and if need be he will have a hold of his own somewhere. And if, one day, it's necessary for the truth to come out then… well, we shall deal with that path if and when we come to it. He's all I have left of Lyanna. Would that she had never met… him."

A short silence fell. Howland Reed finally broke it. "For what it's worth, Ned, at Harrenhall, all those long years ago, I once saw a look on his face. It was just after the tourney. T'was the look of a doomed man. A trapped man. I know not what he was thinking. I just know that he did not look like a man who thought that he liked what he was doing."

Harrenhall. The tourney there had been a lifetime ago. So much had changed since then. Brandon had been alive and was due to marry Cat, Father was still managing things from this very room and Lyanna had been her usual fiery self. Arya reminded him so much of his sister.

And then there had been the others. The Knight of the Laughing Tree, who had whipped the Mad King into a fever of paranoia. Robert, still young, still fit and still without the cares of the throne. Rhaegar, whose actions had started the landslide that had obliterated the Targaryens. And Ashara.

"Too many secrets," he muttered. "Always too many secrets." Then he stood and walked over to the tapestry, where he pulled it back to reveal the door to a surprised Howland. "This was my father's secret. He told Brandon, we think, but not me. Come. I need to show you some things. If the Crannogmen remember then perhaps you know what some of the things within are."