Brandon watched with a smile as his son hit a bullseye under the guidance of Ser Rodick. He knew his son was less skilled with a bow than a sword, but at ten years old, he still had a bit to go.

For a moment, he thought his young son would have benefited greatly from having siblings around. Sure, he had his cousins, and he knew Robb looked forward to when Ned would come up with Jon and Cregan, but his cousins weren't the same as siblings.

After all, Brandon grew up with having siblings. With the halls filled with siblings, it didn't make the castle feel barren. And he knew that his son needed to be surrounded by peers of his age.

He should open the offer to foster some of his bannermen sons. With Robb as his heir, his son needed to know his people and land. However, he knew that offering up a fostering always meant fielding marriage offers again.

Brandon knew his duty as a Lord was to secure the Stark line. However, Ned was doing well, expanding their bloodline. He felt like every raven or visit from his brother announced a new pregnancy. He was sure that when Ben got married, more pups would be roaming the North.

Thinking of pups, he felt his good sister would have had a break from childrearing with the Grejoy rebellion, but she had been pregnant through that as well. He couldn't deny that his nieces and nephews were adorable. The oldest, Jon, was like his brother in personality and spirit. He was a serious and gloomy child, most times, but he knew his nephew would make a fine Lord of Moat Cailin. He also knew his nephew would make a fine swordsman. It seemed his Dayne heritage had gifted Ned's oldest with a quick hand with steel. Now, their second son, Cregan, had the wolf's blood. At times, Brandon swore he saw himself in the young child. Ned constantly relayed to him about his son's adventures at age 6.

And Lyra, his only niece, was the spitting image of her mother. He could only imagine the trouble her looks would bring to Ned's keep.

"My lord."

Brandon turned from where he was watching Robb to Maester Luwin. He was surprised he didn't hear his chains.

"Your brother, Ned, was seen approaching."

"Thank you, Luwin," Brandon replied as he moved to the gates to welcome him. He wondered what brought his brother up this way, especially without a raven announcing it.

His brother made a journey every three months, depending on how far Ashara was in her pregnancies and the harvests from the Moat.

He had a wide smile as his brother passed through the gates. "Ned!"

He watched as Ned rewarded him with one of his shy smiles. However, he was more taken aback when he saw his two nephews. Cregan was perched before his father, while Jon seemed to be trusted with his pony.

"Nephews!" He boasted.

He quickly grabbed Cregan and tossed him in the air, and the boy giggled. However, as he placed him on the ground, he noticed a new accessory the boy had.

"Is that a sword, I see?"

His nephew stood proudly, and he showed off the wooden sword. "Papa gave me the sword. Jon's been showing me how to respect the weapon."

"That's good. A sword isn't a toy."

"I know, Uncle. Papa, Mama, Uncle Benjen, and Jon told me lots of times." All that was missing from the statement was an eye roll.

Brandon chuckled and ruffled the midnight black hair he got from his mother before turning to his oldest nephew.
Jon, as serious as his father, got off his horse with a smile similar to his father's.

"Hello, Uncle."

"Come here, lad," he hugged his nephew. Jon returned the hug tightly. "Your cousin is in the yard. He'll be glad to see you."

The two boys rushed off without a word, and Brandon turned to his brother. "Brother," he greeted and swept him into the hug. Like Jon, Ned returned the hug.

Brandon pulled back as he looked for changes in his brother. Ned was always a couple of inches shorter, but it seemed his brother was working on building muscle. His brown hair was swept up in a half updo with a trimmed beard. Those grey eyes still sparkled with content. It was a look he had observed in his brother since he met Ashara.

"You're wife getting sick of you chasing her skirts," Brandon joked.

"Brandon."

Brandon snorted. Despite the apparent evidence showing Ned's fondness for his wife, his brother still becomes flushed at the neck with any reference to his bedroom activities. At this point, he could only live vicariously through his brother in things, and Ned never seemed keen to speak of these matters. It appeared Brandon would be living the life of a Maester with this life of celibacy he found himself in.

"The crypts?"

Ned nodded as the stablemen led the horses away. It was a tradition that every time Ned came to Winterfell, he would head to the crypts and visit their father.

Brandon sometimes joined but often left his brother alone in his vigil. Like now, as he was going to check on his son and nephews, Ned stopped him. "Join me."

He followed his brother silently through the maze of the crypts. He thought they might fix the lower levels, but he knew they didn't have the coin for such a project.

"How's Ashara and Lyra?" He asked his brother to break the silence.

"Lyra is good. Turning into a proper little lady. She is Ash's image."

Brandon smiled at the thought of his only niece, who loved playing with her dolls and doing needlework. The last time he saw her, he remembered watching as she tried to mimic her mother in everything. He remembered those purple eyes gleaming in joy as she showed off her matching gown with her mother.

"And how is my good sister?" Brandon probed.

He almost missed it if he wasn't looking at his brother, but he knew that whimsical smile on his brother's face.

"Seven hells, Ned. Again?" Brandon asked flabbergastedted. "Do you believe in giving your wife a break?"

"It's much of a surprise to you as us, but babies are a blessing," Ned told him proudly as they reached their father's grave.

Brandon couldn't help the pang of guilt that shot through him every time he thought of his father. It was because of him his father was dead. His reckless, ill-thought-out actions got his father killed, and he knew the stress of him being in the black cells gave Catelyn a difficult pregnancy.

"Well, it gives more cousins for Robb to play with."

"But no siblings of his own?" Ned probed.

Brandon shrugged. "What is Manderly, Karstack, Locke inquiring about my marital status?"

"It's uncommon for a Lord not to seek a wife, especially while young."

"I have my heir."

"And what if -"

"Don't," Brandon said. He didn't want his brother to voice or give power to those thoughts. "Besides, you and Ashara are keeping the Stark line strong since there are so few of us."

Ned became quiet as he looked at their father's statue.

"I've been to the capital," Ned admitted quietly.

Brandon raised his eyebrows. His brother was the envoy for the North when it came to most things regarding King's Landing. However, he knew that Ned was a frequent traveler to places South due to Ashara's connections and their sister. Brandon didn't like to dwell on that, though.

"And how does that shit-smelling city fare these days?"

"Brandon."

"What?"

Ned's eyes were hard and scared. Brandon looked at his brother, confused as to what in the realm would have his brother scared in the capital. However, his mind drifts to one- two - people in the South. "Ned?"

"Did you know that she is yours?"

Brandon felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he looked at his brother. His thoughts immediately went to Elia and Mariah. The last time he saw Mariah, she had been a small babe. Now, she was four years old. Of course, he believed she had been his, but he had doubts. Elia never hid the truth from him in her relationship with Rhaegar. He knew Mariah could have been very much Rhaegar's. Their only cover was Mariah had the Martell coloring.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Ned."

Brandon couldn't regret the outcome between him and Elia, regardless of the risks. He had a daughter, a daughter he couldn't claim.

"Do you know what would happen if anyone found out?"

The Lord of Winterfell scoffed. "Like Rhaegar has any fucking right to judge."

"Is that what you would tell our King?"

Brandon didn't like to think about Rhaegar, the fact that he was raising his daughter, or how Elia was trapped in that marriage after his public betrayal and humiliation. "How'd you find out?"

"Gods, Bran, her whole personality is you. I can recognize a wolf when I see one."

"And they are both happy?" Gods, Brandon longed to run his fingers through Elia's long, wavy black hair. He wished to hear her laughter and see that smile that rivaled the sun. And to think he missed seeing her grow round with their child.

He only had his imagination with Mariah. He and Elia felt it was too dangerous for letters, and it wasn't fair to put Ashara in the middle if anything were to be discovered.

"Mariah seems very happy - she's loved."

"And Elia?"

"Elia seems happy with her children. She is working on refurbishing an orphanage in Flea Bottom."

"Don't put this on Elia or your lady wife, Ned." He pleaded with his brother. He knew his brother had a strong sense of loyalty, especially after the Rebellion. He would hate for his actions to put a strain on the marriage of his brother.

"I just don't…after what Lyanna and Rhaegar did…"

"It's exactly because of that," Brandon replied. How could he explain to his brother that he felt it was only Elia who understood what he had gone through when he was shackled in those black cells? Sure, Lyanna was Ned's sister as well, but Lyanna didn't use his wedding as a ploy to run off with a married prince.

He knew Lyanna was young and a bit impulsive, but she was old enough to understand the consequences of her actions, especially regarding breaking a betrothal and who she broke it for.

He didn't understand what his sister was thinking. He knew the Prince had a reputation for sweet, honeyed words, but he thought his sister would have known better. Everyone knew in Winterfell her unhappiness regarding her future lord husband, especially his philandering ways. However, she put that burden on another woman.

He thought the most daunting thought he had when he was deep in his cups was that Lyanna fell for a man exactly like the man she wished to avoid. Both were blind to others in pursuit of what they wanted.

Elia and her children would have paid the price for it. People already paid the price for it.

"Truly, Ned, did you think he was reading our sister bedtime stories?"

Ned turned red. "You shun Lyanna from the North, but now you do her same actions."

Brandon straightened his spine. "Been talking to Lyanna, eh?" Any letters that came from Griffin's Roost were unanswered. He wasn't sure how Benjens's relationship was with her, but he wasn't surprised that she would try to appeal to Ned.

"She's our sister."

"And look what our sister did to our family. The Stark honor and our reputation slighted because of her all because of what Father wanted her to wear a few dresses and practice embroidery a bit more."

"Brandon, it's not…I pushed the betrothal between the two."

"Doesn't give her the excuse. I didn't want to marry Catelyn, but I did because it was my duty. You would've done the same if Father had told you to marry. So tell me, brother, what's her justification for running off with a married prince? He only would've known where she was if they were writing."

"So is this some sort of payback then? For Father? Lyanna?"

"You think me so cruel, brother?"

"I don't know what to think."

Brandon sighed. "I leave you to your prayers."

"Brandon."

"It's fine, Ned."

He had nothing else to say to his brother.. Brandon found his way back to the training yard.

For a moment, he dreamed of Robb showing a young Mariah the way around steel. Some days, he even imagined Rhaenys and Aegon running in the fields in awe of the snow. Most of all, he wished Elia in his arms, bundled in fur, watching the children.

But he couldn't follow those dreams.