Chapter 13

A palpable sense of controlled chaos permeated the halls of Winterfell, a flurry of activity that had begun the moment Lord Eddard Stark had announced that his son Cregan would be departing on his fostering journey. What was initially a small trickle of activity, began to turn into a flood, as the date drew ever closer. The usually calm and collected castle felt like a hive of restless bees, with everyone buzzing about, each with their own agenda.

Servants scurried to and fro, gathering supplies, packing trunks, and ensuring everything was in order. The kitchens were a hive of activity, with Cook and her helpers preparing travel rations, each with their own suggestions. Maester Luwin was frantically preparing various tonics, potions, and antidotes, muttering about the dangers that awaited Cregan, even though none of those would be required for just traveling within the North.

The training yard was full of activity, not only because of Cregan, but also because Jon had dragged all his siblings into it. Robb was trying to act as a big brother figure, but that mostly resulted in a mix of chaotic laughter and frustrated grunts, especially from Arya, who was constantly trying to steal the other's training swords.

"You're being too loud, Robb," Cregan said with a smile, as he watched from the side. "You're not supposed to yell while you're parrying, you're supposed to concentrate."

"I'm not yelling," Robb huffed, his face flushed with exertion. "I'm just being... enthusiastic."

"You're being annoying," Arya said, her small hand gripping her practice sword tightly. "Let me have a turn with it!"

Jon, meanwhile, looked over some of the instructions, checking to see if they were ready.

Sansa, for once, was not acting as a princess, and actually trying to help the training to not go to chaos, but it was a hard task. "Why do you all want to use training swords?" Sansa asked, exasperated. "Why can't you all act normal for once?"

"You sound like mother," Robb said, his voice laced with mock-horror, as he threw his wooden sword into the air.

"Mother is right, sometimes," Sansa replied, her cheeks flushing slightly. "And you need to be respectful, even if you do not want to."

Cregan smiled, watching as his siblings teased each other. He would miss all of this, he realized, a sudden ache forming in his heart. He had always been surrounded by his family, always protected by their love. He had not even realized how important they were to him, and how lonely he would be when he was gone.

Later, in the library, Cregan found Old Nan perched by the hearth, her gnarled fingers working on a tapestry depicting the sigils of the North. He sat beside her, his gaze fixed on her hands as she worked. "Old Nan," he asked, his voice soft. "What advice would you give to a young man that is about to leave his home?"

Old Nan looked up, her eyes, though clouded with age, still held a spark of wisdom. "The world is a vast and wondrous place, young wolf," she said, her voice raspy but strong. "But home is where the heart is, and you must never forget that. The North will always be waiting for you."

Later still, Maester Luwin found Cregan in his study, his face etched with concern. "You must be careful, Cregan," he said, handing him a satchel filled with various potions and remedies. "The world is full of dangers, both seen and unseen. Be sure to follow all instructions that I wrote."

Cregan smiled, taking the bag and placing it on his shoulders. "I will, Maester. I will be careful. I promise you."

Catelyn, meanwhile, was trying to maintain some semblance of order with the younger children. She had quickly learned of their plans to "foster" themselves somewhere, as that seemed like a great experience.

"Absolutely not," she said firmly, her voice laced with a hint of exasperation. "You are too young to leave Winterfell. We have already established the proper order of things, and there will not be any departures until you are ready."

"But Cregan is leaving!" Arya protested, her voice filled with indignation. "Why can't I leave too?"

"And I want to travel!" Robb said, jumping on the steps. "I want to see the different holdfasts of the North!"

"Because you are not ready, and Cregan is," Catelyn said, trying to keep her voice calm. "You will be staying here."

Rickon, who had been quietly observing the chaos, started to cry, making Catelyn sigh. "I want to go too!" he wailed, his face scrunching up in distress. "Why doesn't anybody want to take me with them?"

She sighed, rubbing her temples. This was much harder than she had anticipated. She was starting to realize that, maybe, Cregan was doing all of this for them, to make sure that they would be safe and prepared for when they had to leave their home.

In Ned's solar, the atmosphere was calmer, but no less charged with emotion. He sat with Arthur Dayne, the two of them sharing a moment of quiet reflection.

"He's leaving soon," Ned said, his voice soft. "It's… it's difficult to let go, even when I know it's for the best."

Arthur nodded, his gaze filled with understanding. "It is never easy to watch those we love leave us. But it is also a part of life, we all need to experience it."

"I hope he comes back a better leader, but also the boy that I'm used to," Ned said, a small smile playing on his lips. "He has always been the best of us."

"He is a Stark through and through, with a dash of Dayne in him," Arthur said, his voice laced with pride. "He will be fine, Ned. And I know that the North will be even better because of it."

Cregan watched the activity from his window, a mixture of anticipation and melancholy swirling within him. He was ready to leave, ready to embark on this new chapter of his life, but he also knew that leaving his home, his family, was a challenge he would have to deal with.

He was grateful for all of them, for their love, their support, their advice, and their encouragement. He would miss them all, and they would all be in his thoughts as he traveled through the North. He was ready to make them all proud.

The sounds of Winterfell surrounded him: the laughter of his siblings, the comforting voice of Old Nan, the wise words of Maester Luwin, the silent support of his father, the kind actions of his stepmother, the unwavering loyalty of his uncle, and he knew that he was ready for everything that was coming his way.

The sun began to set, casting long shadows across the courtyard, and the day of his departure began to draw to a close. He had his plans set, his goals clear, and his family by his side.