Ned

"You should be clapping me in chains for this, your grace," Jory said as Ned walked with him through the hallway. It wasn't the first time he'd said the words and he had a bad feeling it wouldn't be the last. It would take quite a while to get Winterfell back in order after all that had happened and that meant that the reminders of what they had suffered would haunt the Captain of his Guard for a LONG time. And any issues that came about during the Winter that was fast approaching? Jory would be blaming himself for all of those as well.

It didn't make him mad though, that Jory was blaming himself needlessly. Though Ned could never say the words aloud it actually was a relief. Jory was only speaking the words Ned had thought himself… about himself. Having someone else say them helped him come up with the answers that, had the recrimination remained solely in his own mind, he'd never have been able to verbalize.

"Jory," Ned said as they passed by some of the workmen who were going over the plans on how to remove the rubble and repair the piping and then the wall, "show me a guard that could have told me that a man with metal wings, a Dornish huntress, and a dark reflection of the Iron Man would attack Winterfell and I will accuse them of conspiring with our enemies."

"I know that, your grace," Jory said and despite his age he sounded more like Robb or Theon when they had barely been allowed in the training yard than a warrior and soldier. A petulant tone that spoke of frustration. "But the fact remains that all of this happened under-"

"All of our watch," Ned said firmly, glancing at the walls. They were now in part of the castle that had been spared the original attack but hadn't been unaffected. Due to the way the pipes were set up in Winterfell, bringing up the hot water from the springs to all parts of the castle to keep it warm, if one section was damaged it required the pipes at the base of the springs be closed, so that there was no risk of spewing near boiling water onto everyone that passed. That meant that Winterfell's walls no longer beaded with water like they normally did and the warmth that seemed to forever be within the stones was gone. It was… disturbing. Like finding the rotting corpse of someone who had only hours earlier been full of life and vigor.

Cold.

It was cold.

'Winter is Coming,' he thought to himself before he pushed that thought aside. It would do him no good to dwell on that. They had brought in every single builder they could and while he hated the idea that settlements farther out in the North would have to delay their own repairs Winterfell HAD to be made secure again. There was no other choice in the matter. It wasn't a prideful thing, as it would have been for so many other Lords in Westeros. He wasn't doing it because it was his castle and it needed to be improved before all others. This was a necessity.

The people of the South had forgotten why such large castles were made. They saw them now as things of opulence and symbols of power. Have a hundred rooms and a dozen dining halls. Make sure your castle had more levels than your neighbors. The greater the number of towers the more powerful you were. Rickard Karstark had once stated that the Southerners were all compensating for their small penis sizes by building such useless castles and Ned had tended to agree with him on that. Or at least they were compensating for other things.

But in the North such castles were the final protection for the people. While there were the winter towns and villages (including Wintertown itself, the largest of these in the North) the castles would also offer protection to the people of the North, providing warmth and shelter.

'Many of servants in the North work for the great families because they know when the snows come their families will be allowed to stay in the rooms of Winterfell, fed and sheltered as payment for all their loved ones have done during the Spring and Summer.' The cooks spoke of when their families would arrive. Soldiers were glad their children wouldn't freeze. Catelyn's own maid had just brought her own family over…

Catelyn.

Ned took a slow breath.

He wanted to dismiss such thoughts from his head.

He wanted to linger on them forever.

"None of us saw this coming," Ned said the Jory. "Not a single one of us. The world has changed. Become altered. The old ways of warfare have been pushed aside and we are forced to deal with a reality that is vastly different from anything we can imagine. I dare say soon sieges and battles will be more like the games we all played as children, where only our imagination was the limit."

"Aye, your grace," Jory said and Ned knew the man didn't believe it.

He couldn't do anything to force Jory to believe him so instead he continued on to his solar where he knew his Small Council was waiting.

None of them rose as he entered, as Ned had commanded after the first Small Council meeting. It was utterly foolish to do so for a king; a true leader didn't need people to stand up suddenly every time they entered a room to prove they respected their king. They merely nodded to him and fell silent, allowing Ned to make his way to his desk.

It wasn't the full council, as several members had been sent off to work on their own tasks. But he had the right amount for this situation. Robett Glover, his Hand, had returned only a few days ago, and he had Wyman and Roose, his Masters of Coin and War, as well as Fury, his Master of Whispers. Rickard though was gone and he wished he was there as he could use his advice. The Greatjon as well.

But even with a reduced council the room was not empty. No. Sansa was there, eyes narrowed even as she lounged by the fire. While it took time for her to communicate with him, having to tap out each letter for every word she wished to use, she was able to talk with them in a way and had let him know that Nymeria and the wolf pack were hunting the woods outside of Winterfell to ensure the invaders weren't still out there or had left surprises for them. Ned doubted very much they had… they had gotten what they had wanted in taking Cat… but it was something that still needed to be done. His father was also there, as was Arya and Gambit.

The final two were a point of contention with several others in the room, including Ned himself. But Gambit had proven himself in the fight, saving many people's lives as he had worked to distract the metal man as well as the winged figure and Arya had worked hard to free those that had been trapped. They had earned the right to be there… for now.

Ravan was still in her chambers, recovering from her injuries from the day before. Arya had stated she could heal faster than others but it required her to rapidly change her form and that could be… messy… so it was best to leave her be. Ned had only heard her screams of pain and decided to trust Arya on that.

"Let's get started," Ned said. "Robett, what is the schedule for getting Winterfell repaired and ready?"

"We are hopeful it will be a month's time," Robett stated. "That will give us at least another few months, at minimum, before Winter is truly on us."

"We can't assume that," his father stated. "Thanos uses Winter as a weapon."

"He can create winter storms?" Roose asked; while at one time he might have doubted the existence of the Others what they had all seen in the last few months had ensured that no one would ever disbelieve the outlandish again.

"If he can then maybe we reach out to Charlus, no?" Gambit said lazily from where he was slouching in his seat. "If dis here Thanos can bring down the gusts and the gales dan it might be good ta have our own weather witch on hand. Have Ororo an' 'im go toe ta toe, ya know?"

"Its something to consider," Arya stated.

"Ororo?" Ned asked.

Arya was the one that spoke up. "She's a student of the Sealord of Braavos. She can create storms. Winds, lightning, so on. Not sure if she can make sunny days though…"

Ned merely shook his head. "A topic for later then." His father shot him a look but he returned it with his own dark stare. "A topic for later," he said firmly and after a moment his father backed down. "Have we heard from any of the other Lords? Are the Lannisters using this to come at us?"

Roose shook his head. "We have heard from a few lords but they have not suffered any attacks. Nothing than the average among that a lord might have… bandits and the like." He rose and moved towards the window, looking out at it. "And the Lannisters have remained utterly still, making no advances. If I might be bold, Ned… I believe your bastard has a hand in that."

'Jon,' Ned thought to himself. Even knowing that Jon was the Centurion, that he was working with Tony to try and cleanse Westeros of corruption… it was still a befuddling blow to know that Lyanna's son was the Hand of the King and Regent of the Seven Kingdoms. That while he might not hold the title of 'King' he held the power of one. 'You are in such danger… that place is a bed of vipers and you are now having them slither around you… I hope, for your sake, that you haven't actually tried to help us. That it is because of the coming Winter and the death of Tywin that the Lannisters have stalled out the War Effort. Because if you were risking yourself for us…'

He didn't say any of that out loud. No. Because even in his solar he couldn't trust that there weren't people listening. Spies and the like. Some would call him paranoid. Ned would point out that he had a daughter that could walk through walls.

"Fury," Ned said, turning to his Master of Whispers. "Do we know anything about the attackers and where they took Catelyn?"

"We only know the name of one of them, your grace," Fury said. "According to Lady Gamora, before she left to chase after her, the female was called Kraven. I have looked into it-"

"Oooooo," Gambit drawled out, drawing Ned's attention to him. "See, dis 'ere why ya should uh 'ad Ol Gambit with ya far sooner. Could'a saved ya lots of time and effort." He looked over at Arya. "Maybe you gets Gambit a spot on your daddy's Small Council, chere?"

"What do you know?" Arya said firmly, her tone making it clear she wasn't interested in whatever mess Gambit might try and stall with.

He merely smirked at her but, to his credit, continued on without much else in the way of useless chatter. "See here… Kraven done known well in Essos, at least in certain circles." Ned frowned; he swore that Gambit's accent had lessened and he wondered if the 'Swamp Rat' purposely made it thicker just to mess with people. "Had all sorts of bad mojo done ta her in order ta make her stronger and faster. Visited some dark places, if ya believe the rumors, which Gambit always does. Rumors always have some truth, ya know? She done like hunting for the most powerful and deadly of game… some say ta challenge herself, others because she has a death wish. Not quite sure, myself, but then Gambit ain't ever tangled with her."

Wymen frowned. "Then why is she here?"

"I can think of one reason," Roose said and Gambit raised an eyebrow at that. "Come now… you don't think it isn't a touch suspicious that you and your Brother of the Blackfyres show up and suddenly an Essosi hunter appears at our doorstep? One who, according to the accounts of Lady Gamora, is at the level of a Child of the Forest?"

"Believe what ya want ta believe," Gambit said. "We ain't never had trouble with Kraven the Hunter. She don't go attackin' castles and the like. Gambit don't even 'member her done attackin' Dothraki or raiders bands that be always roamin' 'bout. Which ya'd think the feral cat would be all for, 'siderin' that they be always lookin' for a fight." Gambit took out a deck of Essosi playing cards and began to idly shuffle them, his long legs stretched out before him as he did so. "That ain't what Kraven inta, ya know?

"Kraven done called the Hunter and she ain't get that name because it sound good. She be a hunter and she be damn good at it. Has a taste for the big and the monstrous. There be plenty of villages and da like that praise her cause she come in and deal with the things that they don't like dealin' with."

"But otherwise she doesn't cause problems?" Wymen pressed.

"None that ol' Gambit 'as ever heard of. But ya got ta remember that Gambit don't keep his ear ta da ground when it comes to every woman in Essos."

"And that is a lie," Arya teased.

Ned frowned at that but did his best to hide it; even though she looked like an adult now, a woman well past her flowering, to him Arya was still a little girl. She was still the tiny little thing that barely came up past his knee and liked to burrow into his neck when he carried her around, snuggling up close to him. That image wasn't helped by the fact that despite what the Brotherhood of the Blackfyres had tried to do Arya, while an adult, still had the small stature and lithe frame of child. A tall child, perhaps, but a child all the same. It made her feel younger than she actually was.

Her personality was also exactly the same as it had been when he'd last seen her. One would have thought that she would have been radically different after going through all she had but the truth of the matter was that Arya had already been headstrong and independent when she had been a child so her acting that way now didn't make her seem like an adult to him. It made her seem like Arya.

As such having her be so playful with Gambit, who reminded Ned very much of Oberyn Martel, was having him resist every urge to draw one of his swords and hack the man into little pieces. He had plenty of them… it felt like every day someone was giving him a new sword to praise him as the King in the North. He could afford to bleed a few of them with the Swamp Rat's blood.

"And yet," Roose said slowly, "for all you claim she suddenly attacks Winterfell? That is odd."

"Perhaps not," Gambit said, waving a hand at Sansa. "Don't know if Gambit ever heard 'bout her fightin' a direwolf before. And one that done have the soul of a princess in her?"

Sansa lifted her head and let out a low growl.

Now Sansa… Sansa was changed. And Ned didn't mean physically, though that was obvious to even the most blind of fools. One would have expected Sansa to be either a whimpering wreck who was scared of the transformation she had undergone or to demand to be pampered in ways unheard of for even the most beloved pet. Coat forever brushed, sleeping on the finest beds, perhaps a servant to feed her with a fork. He knew it was cruel of him to think of, considering she was his child, but Ned hadn't been blind to Sansa's faults. She had idolized the South thanks to Catelyn's stories and believed that a woman should do as little as possible.

Maester Luwin and him had spoken of it when he had returned to Winterfell; the raising of his children. Those dark nights when the memories of his daughters forced sleep from his mind he'd go to the old man as he was finishing up his duties and ask for stories about Arya and Sansa. And what he had learned had been… frustrating.

'Sansa treated her studies as meaningless unless they were the 'womanly arts',' he thought to himself. 'She had little understanding how to ruin a household… had I married her to any lord she would have driven them into ruin with her spending.' It reminded him much of the tales of Ser Jorah Mormont's vain and greedy wife and he shuddered at the damage she could have caused to an ally if allowed to do that. While it wasn't spoken of openly he had learned while in King's Landing that the Hightowers had been utterly shamed by Lynesse Hightower's ways. While it had been Ser Jorah who had turned to selling slaves Lynesse had been the one to demand so very much that she had brought her husband to ruin. It was said that the reason the Tyrells had given the crown so much wealth and aid was because of Lynesse Hightower (for Margaery Tyrell had the blood of the Hightowers in her veins) and daughters for another 5 generations would have to pay far more and be watched more closely due to Lynesse's actions. The same would have been true of House Stark had Sansa married some lord only to leave him penniless and the servants in revolt because she didn't understand how to manage the books or that gold dragons didn't grow like potatoes.

But… Sansa wasn't a pampered pet. Oh, the servants bathed her and combed her fur, yes, but she often escaped out to Nymeria and the Wolf Pack, running with them as they went on their hunts. He didn't know if she actually killed anything but he imagined she knew how, as she had to have survived somehow while fighting to get home. Her and Arya would also disappear together from time to time, same with Rickon and Shaggydog, and he knew that when Robb had… when Robb had been off on his own she had visited him often.

She was also rather vocal in voicing her displeasure when it came to things. If someone annoyed her she had no issue growling or baring her teeth. She used her size to bully her way around and she let the world knew what her thoughts were, even if she couldn't actually verbalize them.

"But we know nothing else about her?" Ned asked.

"She was Ellia Martel."

Ned twisted and found Gamora standing in the doorway, bandages still wrapped around her arms and peaking out from under her top. While she had claimed she would be fine she had taken enough hits from Kraven that Ned had wanted to make sure that she was seen over by Maester Luwin, so there was no risk of her injuries growing worse. She had left right after that order, going to search for her, but it seemed that his Maester had caught her and he was glad for that.

Though… what she had just said…

"I'm sorry… did you just say…" Wymen said and Ned was feeling as startled as he was. He saw Roose, from the corner of his eye, stiffen and turn towards Ned's sister.

"Ellia Martell. That's who Kraven is."

"Ellia is dead," Ned said only for Gamora to give him a dry look, reminding him that Lyanna had died too and yet there she was, standing in the doorway. Same with his father and his brother. The dead didn't stay dead. 'After all, that's why they came back to Westeros in the first place,' Ned reminded himself before speaking. "How could-"

"Gambit did tell ya that Kraven went and saw all sorts of mystics and the like," Gambit reminded him. "Girl must have gotten some bad mojo done ta her, gettin' her all twisted up like that."

"But Ellia was killed by Tywin Lannister's men," Roose stated.

Ned though shook his head. "The bodies… they were badly mutilated. Prince Aegon didn't even have a face anymore… didn't even have a head. The Princess too. Ellia had been beaten and stabbed so savagely…"

Roose slowly nodded. "She brought several handmaidens with her to the Red Keep and despite the paranoia that took Aerys he never removed them. One of them could have been killed in her place."

"The Mountain would have confused one for her?" Wymen asked.

"Or someone else killed her and the Mountain and his men took the credit," Arya chimed in, Ned twisting to stare at his daughter who merely shrugged. "Think about it… someone wants to get Ellia out of the Red Keep. They want to protect her, ensure she can disappear. Smuggling her out is easy enough but if they don't want people looking for her they need a body. As she is sent out a loyal guard stays behind with one of the hand maidens that is coming with them… and then slits her throat, stabs her a dozen times, and smashes her face in. Have her wear some of Ellia's jewelry-"

Ned frowned at that. "Should we be concerned that you have thought this out a bit too much?"

Arya merely smirked and Ned had his answer. And he didn't like it.

"It is possible," Wymen said, glancing at Fury who quietly nodded; Ned knew he would be reaching out to his spies to find out if Arya's theory was true.

"Why not return to her family?" Yondu asked. "Why go to Essos?"

"Wouldn't be safe," Ned said at once. "Robert would never allow her to live… at best he would have locked her away to ensure that Rhaegar hadn't left a child in her belly. At worst he would have killed her for being married to Rhaegar."

"Or seeing her as a failure," Roose said. "After all, she did fail to keep Rhaegar's attention on her and thus caused him to pay attention to Lyanna, seducing her-"

"I wasn't seduced," Gamora growled.

"You fucking were," Yondu snapped. "And how the fuck do you know that she's Ellia?"

"She told me." She turned to their father. "How do you not know? You were there when she was screaming at me for stealing her husband!"

"I wasn't paying attention to what you two were blathering about. I was too busy making sure she didn't kill more people."

"Oh, and ya did a find job at that," Gambit replied, Yondu whipping around to glower at him. "Gambit just sayin'… for some all seein' Leader of the Children of the Forest ya don't see much, ya don't lead much, and ya done did little ta stop all this?"

"I am here to deal with the Others, not Ellia Martell and some Metal Man!"

"Who have help," Robb's voice called out and Ned started when he saw his son enter with Roslin. Arya at once rushed to Robb, giving him a hug, and Sansa was close behind, nudging her with her nose against his shoulder. Just behind him was Jane and Shireen, so that all Ned was missing was Rickon and even then his youngest should return rather soon from hunting for clues with Drax, Rocket, and Groot.

"Robb…" Ned whispered, wishing he could join his girls in greeting Robb but also concerned about how Robb would react to that. While they had agreed that Robb would deal with Barrowton and Lady Dustin they hadn't parted like father and son. No… it had been like a commander giving orders to a soldier and it pained Ned that his son so hated him at the moment. 'We must talk again when this is done,' he thought.

"I've heard about mother from Theon," Robb said. Ned nodded; he and Brienne had been out when the attack had happened, searching for evidence to help Robb, and both had been rather angry they hadn't been there to assist. "But things are far worse than you know, father."

Ned motioned for Robb to enter, allowing him to take command of the room while he backed away. And Ned was struck by how regal his son looked. Even after such a long journey he looked noble and strong. 'he will be a far better King than I will ever be,' he thought. 'I feel like a pretender, trying to convince the world that I am worthy of this crown. But Robb… he is already a king, he just hasn't taken up his throne yet. Even with Venom… for so many others such a creature being linked to him would be seen as a weakness but Robb has turned it into a strength.'

Even with the villages that had been attacked and attention coming onto Robb the smallfolk were whispering that Robb was their Lethal Protector. Fury had informed him after he had sent Robb off to the Barrowlands that he was surprised by how the smallfolk weren't being whipped into a frenzy as he had expected.

"It is because he's done so much good," Fury had stated. "The peasants and farmers speak of him as the one that has saved them so many times. That isn't to say that your grace hasn't also saved them, especially with the Snowcloaks rising prominence, but bandits don't turn themselves into local lords when they hear that the snowcloaks have been spotted… they do so with Venom and Robb. When those two are seen leaping through the sky or rushing through the trees all know that it is best to be kind and fair… or else end up a snack."

'It is a dark thing… but can I claim any superiority to him? How many have I violently slaughtered, after all? The Lannisters tremble when they see the white weirwood upon my breast… they have taken to calling it a skull and I 'The Punisher', according to Arya.' Ned didn't know how he felt about that. Yes, there was power in being able to scare your foes but Ned didn't want to be another Theon the Hungry Wolf. He wanted to be a fair king, not a bloodthirsty one, but even with Sansa returned to him the wolf's blood in his veins screamed for more vengeance against those that had harmed his family. 'I must forever watch myself that I only allow such rages go against my enemies, and even then only those that truly deserve it. I will never forget who is friend and who is foe.'

"What has happened, Robb?" Ned asked. "What has brought you back here? You know of the attack?"

"I do, though I knew before I spotted Winterfell," Robb stated. "You were right, father… Barbrey Dustin has been in league with our enemies. But it isn't the Lannisters… she is allied with the one known as Ultron."

"Ultron?" Ned said and he noticed Fury suddenly stiffen. "You have heard of this man?"

"Ultron isn't a man," Fury said. "It is the name of a demon in the religion of Old Valyria. And later on it was given to be the name of armor crafted by Maegor the Cruel… Armor that was supposed to allow one to cheat death."

"Cheat death?" Ned asked. "What do you mean?"

"It was said that a soul could enter into the armor… and continue on. To live in it forever."

"…anyone that says that's bullshit," Shireen growled, "will taste my war hammer."

"We really don't have much of a leg to stand on," Yondu admitted.

Wymen let out a weak chuckle at that. "Yes… I suppose you have the right of it there."

Ned thought about that. 'A soul… a soul in armor…' Outloud he murmured. "But who could it be then that is wearing the armor? Who hates us so much that they would attack Winterfell?"

"It wasn't Winterfell they wanted though, your grace," Roose said. "They attacked, yes, but they left when they took your Lady Wife. And I can think of only one man, recently dead, who was obsessed with Queen Catelyn."

Ned's eyes went wide.

"No," he whispered even though he knew it to be the truth.

"Everyone out," Robb said suddenly. Ned stumbled slightly, gripping his desk, his breath coming out harsher. "Arya, you stay. Sansa too. This is only for the Starks."

"Well I'm-" Yondu began but Robb must have done something because Ned's father grew silent before muttering, "I'll wait with the others."

There was a shuffling of feet and the sound of bodies moving and then Ned felt a thick meaty hand on his shoulder and he was suddenly twisted around to find himself staring up at Venom.

"Let it out," his heir declared.

Ned… roared and tried to punch Venom right in the jaw.

He knew what his son was trying to do. His own father had done it with Brandon a hundred times. His father would grab Brandon and force him to attack him, to allow him to punch something that could take the blows. His father was mighty and even as Brandon had grown he had been able to catch his swings with his palms, showing no affect. Give the wolf's blood something to strike and attack, so that one could work through their fury and rage. It would allow one to see clearly again.

And Ned was currently blind.

"BAELISH!" he roared, dimly understanding why Robb had selected who he had selected. Sansa was strong and powerful, Arya could phase through anything, and Robb, with Venom, could take whatever blows he sent his way. "That fucking whoremaster!"

"A pathetic piece of garbage that had no right to survive his first year alive."

Ned nodded at that and began to punch at Venom's chest. The massive black figure didn't even try and block or redirect the blows, instead allowing them to fall upon his meaty chest. And Ned was startled to find that striking him didn't hurt as much as he would have thought. Either of them, from the way Robb was watching him.

"I always knew he was trouble! The first time Cat told me about her little friend Petyr! I knew he was a bastard that hungered for more than he deserved! Why did I let her talk me into trusting him! I should have done to him what he always claimed Brandon did and gutted his from navel to chin!"

Venom let out a taunting laugh at that and that made Ned even more angry. But that was good… he wanted to be angry! Wanted to be furious! He was tired of being the calm one. The one that held things together! For once he wanted to be the one in the family to go off and let someone else deal with all the problems that came about! Brandon! Lyanna! Robert! Even fucking Benjen and his need to go to the fucking Night's Watch and leave Ned all alone! He was sick and tired of being the responsible one! Because being responsible let Petyr Fucking Baelish trick him, twist him, and torture him! He should have squeezed his hand shut around throat the moment he smirked at him in King's Landing and squeezed until his head popped like a pimple. Robert would have probably thrown him a tourney! He should have passed him along to Roose and told him that with him and only him he would allow him a pass to flay him alive! He should have burned him in the Red Keep and then pissed on the ashes!

"A vile, disgusting little man that should have been torn to ribbons."

"A bastard who deserved a thousand deaths!"

"The world would have been a better place if his father had stuck it up his mother's arse."

Ned suddenly twisted around and gaped at Arya, his daughter folding her arms over her chest and giving him a look.

"Am I wrong?"

"…no, you aren't. But don't let your mother-"

Ned stopped and the anger left him.

Baelish. Petyr Baelish. Littlefinger.

He had Catelyn.

"We'll get her back," Arya said firmly and Sansa nodded.

"We know he had only one place he could have gone," Venom said. "One place in all of Westeros where he would feel safe."

Ned nodded, knowing they were right.

And they had no choice.

He would summon back Rickon. Theon and Brienne as well. The Children of the Forest and what forces he could trust.

And then… they would march on the Vale.