Southwards Bound

Ned ordered a servant to bring raw meat from the kitchen and a pot full of water. Uncle and nephew carried that inside of the broken tower and left it near the corner where Iss was nursing her pups. He took off his gloves and brought his hand near her for her to get a whiff of him. Iss sniffed at his hand before licking it. Jon scratched her head and whispered –

"Take care of your pups in peace, girl. We will see you later."

As they came out of the tower, they found Sansa trying to coral her two younger siblings away from there.

"Father, you have to speak to them. Mother told me to get them inside but they are not budging." She stamped her foot in frustration.

"Children, listen to your sister. Let the mother wolf rest. For she won't be very welcoming to you right now."

"But Father…" Arya whined.

"No sweetling, I promise that you will get to meet with the pups soon. For now, let us all go inside." He took Rickon in his arms and placed him on his shoulder.

"Father, I saw the pups, they are tiny." Rickon was very excited.

"Aye, little pup, they are indeed very tiny. Tinier than you." He tickled his belly.

Rickon giggled, "No tickles, Father, please. Where is their father?"

"He is with your Uncle Benjen."

"So we will get to meet him when Uncle Benjen comes back?"

"Aye, I will ask your uncle to bring the father wolf with him to visit his pups very soon."

Jon shook his head fondly seeing his uncle and little cousin conspiring how to get the father wolf to visit Winterfell soon. He took a look around the yard, Asher and Torrhen were deep in conversation with Lord Royce and his son. Robb was holding a squirming Bran by his shoulder while Lady Catelyn was talking to him in whispers. By the looks on their faces, Jon understood that his cousin was getting his ears chewed out by his mother for getting into unnecessary dangers. Sansa was trying to get a stubborn Arya back inside of the keep. Jon walked towards them.

"My lady." He bowed to Sansa which made her smile.

"Ser White Wolf." She curtsied to him.

"Jon!" Arya jumped into his arms.

"Hello there, little wolf."

"Father won't let me go and see the pups, Jon." She thought that her favourite brother could somehow smuggle her inside.

"He is right, little wolf. She needs to get settled herself first and know all of you. Once she does that, and the pups grow a bit, I will bring you to them for petting. Now, how about we go inside?"

"I suppose." She frowned down to her feet. But at the next moment she started to bounce on her toes, "Robb said you went beyond the Wall. Did you see the giants? Or the mammoths? Huh, Jon?"

Jon laughed at how her mood changed from one to another in a blink. "Breath, little sister." He hugged her close to himself and offered her other arm to Sansa. The three of them went inside the Keep chatting happily among them.

[CotW]

They didn't have a feast as the boys' entrance and appearances of seven direwolves had shaken everyone in Winterfell. The feast will commence on the next day, serving dual purposes of celebrating the boys coming back home after a successful war campaign and also, welcoming a visiting lord, Yohn Royce and his son. Ravens had arrived from Karhold and Ironwrath that lords Rickard Karstark and Gregor Forrester had left for Winterfell when they learned that the lads were coming straight to Winterfell from the Wall. Ned was quite sure that it was ladies Karstark and Forrester who had made their husbands agree to this trip so they can meet with their boys themselves. Truly, it had been a long time since any of them saw each other, what with about a year and a half long worth of travels and battles.

After a lavish lunch, the Lord and Lady of Winterfell sat at the Lord's solar with Jon and Robb. The boys looked at each other in fear when they entered the room, for Lady Catelyn was red in the face with anger. How she maintained her composure during the lunch, they could never know.

"Now, which one of you will tell me about this trip beyond the Wall? Or how did you come to find a pregnant direwolf and…By the Sevens! Jon! Why are your eyes purple?" She gasped in shock, making Ned look curiously, and with a fear in his heart, towards his nephew's eyes.

He found that she was right, Jon's eyes have indeed turned purple. They didn't notice it under the gloomy, cloudy sky outside when they arrived, and frankly, nobody had any other thoughts in their minds with the commotions Iss caused. But now, even under the lights of torches and the hearth, it was clear that Jon's eyes are purple. Ned was thinking about the repercussion it could cause.

The boys squirmed in their seats, Jon took a discreet glance at his uncle before looking directly at Lady Catelyn. "All of it is tied together with what we are to tell you, My Lady, but I believe that Lord Commander Mormont had sent a raven about our ranging beyond the wall?" He looked askance at his uncle.

It was Ned's turn to squirm in his seat under his wife's furious gaze.

"Er…I had received a raven from the Lord Commander of the Watch about the ranging mission. But I didn't mention it to you because I didn't want you to worry any further." Ned gave her a pleading look.

Catelyn narrowed her eyes and turned to look at the boys.

Robb kicked Jon under the table – Do something.

Jon narrowed his eyes at him – Why can't you do something?

Robb shook his head – She already chewed me out in the yard, it is your turn.

"I am still waiting for an answer." Lady Stark's stern voice brought them back from their silent conversation.

"Um…you see, My Lady. I had received a dream…" Jon launched into the tale about how Bloodraven appeared in his dreams and asked him to go beyond the Wall for a meeting with him. He stressed the fact that Robb tried to dissuade him from going, but since he was adamant, Robb had no choice but to follow him along. And they had their Uncle Benjen with them, who never allowed them out of his sight, plus they had all of their troops, so they were not any real danger.

Catelyn was drumming her fingers on the table while Jon described their journey and what they found out there. When he reached the part about him claiming his identity before eating the Weirwood paste, she leaned forward and looked deep into his eyes.

"So you are telling me, that this old man in a cave cornered you and you revealed your secret to all of them. Now more people know about the secret that could lead to another war."

"Aye, but you need not worry about Asher and Torrhen, Aunt. We were practically inseparable in this past year, we fought and bled together. And as Uncle Ned says, you get to learn who your true friends are on the battlefield, we have found ours. They are our brothers. They will never divulge our secrets." Robb nodded his head fervently to support Jon's claim.

Catelyn was massaging her temple as if trying to fend off a headache. "I don't doubt about their loyalty, Jon. What troubles me is your tendency to leap before you look. Are you to tell me that if anybody strongarms you, you will be revealing your innermost secrets to them? I thought you are matured, Jon. I would expect this kind of things from Robb," she ignored the indignant "Mother!" from her son, "but never from you."

Jon's face had turned red from shame, he was gazing at his hands, "Aye, Robb and the others have already taken me to the task about that idiocy of mine. But in my defence, my brain had kind of stopped working properly, I was standing there in front of a group of Children of the Forest, a myth had come to life before our very eyes, and a man who was also out of the myth. Brynden Rivers, one of the most infamous characters of our history since the Conquest. I somehow lost all of my reasoning." Jon hurriedly continued as he saw Catelyn opening her mouth to say something, "I know, I know. I shouldn't have done that, and I would try my very best to not act the same again. It was indeed very foolish of me and I am truly sorry for that. I should've not fallen for his manipulations."

Ned was sitting quietly behind his desk and looked on with keen interest at the drama which was going on in his solar. He tried to discern Robb's reaction for finding out his brother's – no, cousin, true identity, but he seemed to be avoiding in meeting his eyes, it puzzled him. Catelyn sighed and sat back in her seat.

"Please try to remember, Jon, whatever you do, it could affect us all – Rickon, Bran, Arya, Sansa. They are not yet ready to face all the hardships you two have experienced already. One misstep from you could alter their lives forever." Jon nodded his head. "Continue, please."

Jon did, he talked about how he met with one of the Gods. He told them about how it was the humans who had created different pantheons of the beings in their preferable images. He told them how Lady Minerva told him about the coming doom and how he was charged to protect mankind from the Night King and his armies.

Catelyn had turned pale by the end of Jon's tale, the base of her entire religious belief was shaken. She would be lying if she said that she never had thought of the Northerners as tree-worshipping savages before she came up here. To her, the only true religion was of the Seven, as her Septa had drilled it into her head since her childhood. Now, she was hearing her husband's nephew claiming that he had met with the personification of the Crone? And not only that, the Gods she had been praying and the Gods for whom she still held a smidgen of disregard are the same. She didn't know what to think, she had a tight hold on Ned's arm.

Ned sighed and leaned on his desk. Just as his wife, he too couldn't make himself believe the tale his nephew had just shared. He looked at the boys, neither of them had the mischievous glints in their eyes when they thought that they had pulled a successful prank. No, instead they appeared as serious as he had seen them on the battlefields. They are not lying – his inner voice screamed at him.

"While I do not doubt you, you do realize how fantastical your story sounds, don't you? It can be believable to Bran, Rickon or mayhaps even Arya, but not the entire North."

The boys nodded, Jon looked to Robb – What now, brother?

Robb indicated to the door – Perhaps your bow could convince them?

Jon nodded and excused himself, he rushed to his rooms to get the bow and took it back to his uncle's solar. He put the bow down on the desk.

"We have three proofs to our claims. The first is nursing her pups inside the broken tower. Lady Minerva had directed Grim and Iss to find us. Direwolves once again will roam alongside the Starks. The second is this bow. The men with us have seen a Child giving me this bow as a gift."

Ned picked up the bow to examine with a frown on his face. He tried its string before turning it over in his hands and looked closely at the carved images on the wood. "This is ironwood!" He exclaimed in shock.

"Aye, Uncle Ned. The Children had used their magica to bend a wood that is as tough as iron and cannot be used like a bow. But they made it pliable, and according to them, none can come close to this in terms of reach or efficiency save mayhaps Weirwood longbows. Not only that, they had managed to carve into it. It is one of a kind since nobody else can make a bow out of ironwood."

Catelyn ran her fingers over the bow, granted she didn't know much about weapons, but she couldn't deny that it was a beautifully crafted weapon.

"You said there are three proofs, what is the third one?" Ned poured himself and his wife glasses of ale. They needed to steady themselves after listening to Jon.

Jon looked at Robb – Shall I?

Robb had a grim look on his face, he nodded his head a little – Aye, they need to know.

Jon nodded back. He raised his right hand to eye level and closed his eyes. The Lord and Lady of Winterfell looked on intently as Jon seemed to be deep in a trance, he had started shaking, his face had gone red and sweat started to form on his brow. Ned tried to call out to him but Robb stopped them from interrupting. Suddenly, he opened his fist and a bright red flame erupted in his palm. Ned and Cat let out yelps of shock and pushed themselves away from the desk. The fire danced on and around his hand but not causing him any harm, leaving his skin free of blisters and burns. Jon again closed his hand in a fist and the fire died out. He collapsed in his seat and was panting hard. Robb scrambled to his feet and poured a cup of ale and shoved it into his hand. Jon nodded his head in thanks and drank the entire thing in one gulp.

"What in the name of Seven Hells is that?" Ned was never this shocked in his entire life. Catelyn still clutched her chest, both of them had gone bone white.

"Lady Minerva told me that I am the Song of Ice and Fire. Bloods of the First Men – the Winter Kings, the Children of the Forest and Old Valyria run through my veins. She had awakened the innate magic that was present in my blood, and it resulted in what you just saw. I was told to practise with it, still, I become unusually weak and tired even after the littlest bit of this magical exertion. Only Robb, Asher and Torrhen know of my practising."

His uncle and aunt took a few moments to absorb his words. Robb was keeping an arm around his shoulder, to help him sit straight, he knew how vulnerable Jon becomes whenever he tried to ignite the flames. Jon had his head turned towards the hearth, though he had a faraway look on his face.

"You know, the Children call me ljós leggja, the Light Bringer, as the sword of the Last Hero from the myth. Lady Minerva called me Azor Ahai. When I returned to Castle Black, I went to the library there, trying to find any mention of the famed hero. My father believed himself to be Azor Ahai, later, according to Uncle Aemon, he started to believe that the hero will be born of his blood. Besides getting a male heir, that was the other reason why he pursued Mother. But I think that he was indeed Azor Ahai, and as it was stated in the myth, Azor Ahai forged his blade thrice, only the third try was successful. In my father's case, the first try was my sister Rhaenys. The second try was that false Aegon. I was his third try. And like in the story, for Lightbringer to work, the hero had to temper the sword with his wife, Nissa Nissa's life blood. I was born to the death of my mother."

His three listeners were looking at him with morbid incredulity. Ned cleared his throat, "Um…Jon?"

Jon shook himself from the anguish that had started to blossom in his heart. "Forgive me, it was just some ramblings of an idle mind. Please, do not pay attention to it." He tried to smile at them, "Anyhow, we were discussing the looming threat of utter annihilation."

"Aye," Ned sighed, "How do you propose we are to present this to the lords of the North?"

"Tell me something, Father," Robb said with a smirk, he and the others had talked among themselves on how to proceed with their plans. "Why would our ancestor built a seven hundred feet tall and three hundred miles long solid wall of ice just to keep some men on the other side of it? They are humans like you and me. You don't need something as massive as the Wall to prevent them from crossing to our lands. How do you explain that the said Wall still stands even after thousands of years, enduring countless summers? How do you explain the thrums of magic that the Northerners feel in their bones when they come close to the Wall? We both have felt it…well, him more than me," he indicated to Jon while smirking, "because his arse is further special than mere blood of the First Men."

He squeaked receiving an elbow to the ribs from Jon and a rebuke of "Language!" from his mother. His father sighed and shook his head in exasperation.

"Pardon my tongue, Mother, having spent more than a year among the company of men in harsh conditions had affected our languages a bit. As I was saying, We - Jon, Asher, Torrhen, myself, even the men with us had felt the calling of the magic of the Wall. They would have denied it first-hand if they hadn't seen a Child appear before them. Magic isn't gone from the world, Father, as the Southerners would have us believe," he threw an apologetic glance at his mother, "it still resides everywhere around us. We Northerners boast of our long memory, but in this instance, we had forgotten just like the rest of the world."

Jon put his hands on the desk, looking beseechingly at his uncle, "Uncle Ned, we know that we cannot right out admit everything to all of the North, above all the secret behind my birth. We know the precarious position we are forcing you into, but we implore you, please, do not ignore these warnings. For they are nothing else – reappearances of direwolves or the Children, stirrings of the wildlings. They all indicate that evil is on the rise again. Nowhere was it said that the Last Hero had killed off the threat about eight thousand years ago, they just say that he drove them off. We need to be in a stronger position if we wish to withstand the second coming of the Long Night."

Catelyn looked at her husband, he sat there leaning back in his seat, staring intently at the boys. "Ned?" She whispered.

Ned rubbed his eyes tiredly. He reached for the jug of ale and poured four glasses of it, indicating the others to their drinks as he gulped down his own.

"You are asking me to do the things that I wanted to do since the day I had to take up the charge of being the Warden of the North. I want to see our land and its people prosper, but we don't have the fund. What little we grow or farm is not enough to feed everybody. We need to buy food from the Riverlands and the Reach just so that our people don't go to bed hungry. Even that isn't enough at times. You lads have grown up inside of castles. Now, when you are on the verge of becoming men, you are venturing out into the world and experiencing the hardship it offers. You don't know that when winter comes, the lords stayed safe and warm in their keeps, but the smallfolk…they don't have those amenities. Oftentimes, the elder of a family goes out in the middle of winter, telling their loved ones that they are going for a hunt. In reality, they are choosing the coldness to die over watching their family suffer from hunger. If they go out that way, there is one less mouth to feed. Come summer, sometimes they come back home. More often than not, their corpses could be found under melting snow. Other kingdoms have to force their people to be called for levies, here in the North, people eagerly join because that way they would have food on their plates, and coins to feed their family. This is how the Northerners live. We, the lords, know how our people suffer, but we cannot do anything to counter that. Because we just don't have the resources. Now, you tell me, how am I supposed to strengthen our people, when they are already weak from starving?"

Jon had his head down, for he had indeed seen how the people struggled just to live day after day. At Karhold, at Bear Island…at Winter Town.

"Trading."

"Pardon?"

"I said trading, Uncle Ned." Jon looked up to his uncle, "We don't have enough farmable lands, but we have forests, miles and miles of it. And they are full of wild games. Beasts we can harvest furs from, or meat. I have read that the free cities of Essos are always in need of lumber. We can sell to them directly. With Skagos finally under the North's control, we can establish a trading centre there."

Robb tagged on after him, "Aye, That way, the lords nearer to the wall could send their wares to the port at Skagos, while the lords nearer the neck could send theirs to White Harbour. We can establish a trading alliance directly with Braavos. I don't think Lord Manderly will deny you if you commission him to build you a few ships." He hurriedly tried to placate his father seeing a frown forming on his face, "I know the coffer of Winterfell will take a dip, but if we come out successful, and I believe that we will, then soon, mayhaps within a couple of years, the coins will start to flow into our treasury. I think it is time for the North to rebuild our fleet after Bran the Burner. If you are wary about the cost, you can always send a raven to the Capitol about tax exemption for a few years, Lord Arryn and the King are close to you after all." Contempt was evident in Robb's voice when he mentioned the King, making Ned frown at his son.

"And I will try to contact Uncle Brynden, to see if he can convince some of the Children to come to the south of the Wall and weave their magic so that our people can grow enough food to not let their loved ones starve. I will most definitely see to it before I leave the North."

"Leave? Where will you be going, Jon?" Ned's heart thudded in his chest.

"I don't know, Uncle, Bloodraven made a prediction that I am soon to leave these lands. When or why I am yet to know."

"Is it wise, Jon?" Catelyn's voice was tremulous, "Now that your eyes have taken to appear as your father's, people will raise questions."

Jon gave her a contrite smile and took her hands in his, "Aunt Cat, please don't take it to your heart what I am about to say…" Catelyn gave him an uncertain nod, "I think this will be another layer of security for me. Because rumours are abundant about how Uncle Ned was courting Lady Ashara Dayne at the tourney of Harrenhal. People will make the easy connection that I am her son because she also had the purple eyes."

Catelyn's expression had turned stony as she removed her hands from Jon's grasp. Ned sighed and placed an arm around his wife's shoulder.

"People have it the other way around. It was your Uncle Brandon who was with Lady Dayne at that tourney, I, myself was quite smitten with a certain shy redheaded woman who had gotten on famously with my sister." He nudged Catelyn's shoulder, who had a look of disbelief in her eyes and pinked cheeks, "I only danced with Lady Dayne so that Brandon would get his head out of his arse and pay proper attention to his betrothed."

"Language!" Lady Catelyn chided her husband, "Ned, why didn't you say anything about all of these before?" She was looking quite pleased.

"We never have been this close, My Lady. All these secrets had taken a toll on our relationship."

"Oh, Ned!" She placed a loving hand on his cheek.

A loud sound of clearing throats brought the two of them back to the present, and to realize that they were not alone.

"Er…right. As I was saying, it was Brandon, not I, and there are already rumours among the Northern lords that Jon is indeed Brandon's son with Lady Dayne, I claimed him as my own to save faces for everybody. They say so because they can see the wildness in Jon on the battlefield that Bran had possessed."

Jon pinched the bridge of his nose, it was truly astounding how people make assumptions to justify their leaps of misplaced logic. "Aye, it will give to the rumours of my being Lady Ashara's son some credence."

"Still, I can't, in good conscience, give you permission to leave the North."

The contempt he thought he saw on his son's face before had become prominent. Robb leaned on the desk with a sneer, "Oh? And what is your plan regarding Jon, Father?"

Jon tried to pull his brother back, "Robb, please…"

Robb shook off his hand from his shoulder. "Not now, Jon." He turned back towards his father, "Well, My Lord, do you wish for him to take the Black and waste his life there among thieves and rapers? Just so no further problems arise for your friend to retain his crown?"

Ned never expected such vitriol from his own son, "Be mindful with whom you are speaking to, lad."

"Aye, I know with whom I am speaking to, Lord Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North and brother in all but blood to King Robert Baratheon. Do you know with whom you are speaking? I am Robb Stark, brother in blood and all else to Aemon Targaryen, and I won't sit quietly while you deal with my brother unjustly."

Jon and Lady Catelyn could only look on as the father and son squared off against each other.

"What unjust are you speaking of? I have raised him as my son, kept him under my roof while I could have handed him over to any of my bannermen and forget about him."

"Aye, you raised him, but as a bastard. You very well know how our world sees a bastard. And you raised the prince of the realms, the true heir to the throne completely unprepared to run his own keep, let alone the seven kingdoms."

"Robert is the true king. His claim is true by the rights of conquest…"

"Robert is a liar and a lecher who used trickery…"

"Enough!" They all jumped in their seats as Ned's fist slammed on the desk. "You will be punished for your insolence. You have no idea what you are speaking about…"

Robb cut him off by letting out a burst of mirthless laughter, "Me? It seems to me that it is you who doesn't have any idea what he is speaking about. Tell me, My Lord, you probably have a quite clear memory of the Knight of the Laughing Tree? And how your friend Robert boasted to all about his valiant battle with that rogue knight? I believe it was during this grandstanding when he claimed to one and all about how he intended to become a true brother to his beloved Ned Stark by marrying his sister. You remember it, don't you?"

Ned didn't expect the argument to turn this way, he nodded his head dumbly wondering where Robb was going with this.

"Do you know who was under those armours, My Lord? It was your sister, Lyanna Stark. Aye, she took up arms to teach the knights a lesson whose squires had insulted her countryman, one of her father's bannermen, the then-future lord of Greywater Watch, Lord Howland Reed. He was there with Aunt Lyanna trying to get rid of those armours when Prince Rhaeger had found them, and helped them to discard the armours. So tell me, My Lord, how was it your brother Robert fought with the Knight of the Laughing Tree and won the shield when she wasn't even anywhere near him?"

Blood had drained from Ned's face, this couldn't be true, could it? He looked towards Jon who was staring at him solemnly and nodded his head.

"Aye, Uncle Ned, Lord Reed had told me all about the tourney of Harrenhal. He tried to tell all of these to you too during the Rebellion, but you were never in a position to listen to him, what with Robert Baratheon always being there with you."

Robb was relentless, "Not only that, Uncle Benjen had told me how Aunt Lyanna had begged Grandfather Rickard to break off the betrothal. He would've even listened to her, if not for the constant ravens sent by a certain person from Eyrie about what a great man that is Robert Baratheon. Tell me, My Lord, do you expect me to bring proposals from likeminded lechers and whoring b…men for Sansa or Arya? Or, Gods forbid, and our situations change, you expect me to send any of their children off to lead a life of uncertainty among the worst scums of the realms? If so, then you may as well start to train Bran to take up after you, I am renouncing my claims as Heir of Winterfell…"

"Robb, no!" Jon and Lady Catelyn tried to get him out of the room, but Robb couldn't be moved.

"You have chosen the friend you call your brother, Lord Stark, over your own family. Now, I choose mine, my cousin by blood but brother in everything else, and I will stand by him in everything. This I promise to you."

Gone was the posture of the stern lord of Winterfell. Ned Stark, the Quiet Wolf had the appearance of a broken man, hunched over his desk with his head in his hands. Lady Catelyn was standing beside him, rubbing her hand on his back in a soothing manner. She looked at his son with fury in her eyes.

"Get out of here, Robb. You had no right to speak like that with your lord father. Get out of here before I forget that you are my son."

Jon forcefully dragged Robb out of his uncle's solar and brought him to his rooms.

"You were way out of the line in there, Stark. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Robb stubbornly remained quiet and kept looking at the flames of the hearth.

"If Lord Stark doesn't, I will have to see that you are punished for how you behaved with your father. You will meet me at the dawn in the yard, Robb. No excuses."

"Whatever." Robb muttered.

"You better be there, Stark." Jon got out of the room.

*Line Break*

Kings' Landing

Lord Jon Arryn, Hand to the King Robert Baratheon, sat exhausted on the Iron Throne after a gruelling day of holding court in the name of the King. As usual, King Robert was absent, so it fell to the Hand to sit in his stead. He sheathed the blade he had lain upon his lap, it was a finely crafted blade, gifted to him by his wife Lysa for him to use during such times as holding courts. He stood up from the throne made of swords, carefully taking note of the edges and points so that he didn't cut himself like King Aerys. The Mad King was known to cut himself regularly on the throne and for his disgusting habit of picking at the scabs. As he stood, his back popped loudly, his body was protesting for all the stress he had been putting it through. Ser Arys Oakheart was the guard for the day. He gave Lord Arryn a sympathetic nod.

"My body is protesting hard, Ser Arys. One of these days, I won't be able to even walk the steps up to the throne."

Ser Arys smiled, "You are made of sterner stuff, My Lord Hand."

"You flatter me, kind Ser, but let's face the truth, I am an old, doddering fool. I don't know how much longer I can serve His Grace." He gave him a nod and made his way out of the throne room.

He was surprised to see another member of the Kingsguard standing beside the doors. Ser Mandon Moor turned his lifeless eyes towards him as he stepped out of the throne room. He gave Lord Arryn a curt nod.

"Her Grace has requested an audience with you, My Lord Hand."

Lord Arryn sighed inwardly. Cersei Lannister, for she couldn't be anything else in his mind, didn't just request, but ordered for him to appear before her, and she had sent her faithful dog Mandon Moor to make sure Lord Arryn followed her order.

"Kindly tell Her Grace that I will meet with her after I freshen up a little. As you can see, Ser, I just finished holding court for the day."

"Her Grace was quite insistent that you meet with her as soon as you are done with holding court." Ser Mandon's expression didn't change a bit.

Of course, she was. – Thought Lord Arryn, "Very well, Ser. Where would I find Her Grace?"

"She has gone for a stroll at the gardens with her hand maidens. I can escort you to her."

"I am sure that I can find the way by myself, Ser Mandon." He gave the knight a curt nod and swiftly made his way towards the gardens. As he reached the exit to the gardens, he saw a few Lannister household guards manning the gates. Footsteps from behind had alerted Lord Arryn that Ser Mandon had followed him. He shook his head a little, he should have realized that as a member of the Kingsguard, Ser Mandon was on duty to guard the Queen for the day. Age was truly catching up to him.

Lord Arryn found the Queen to be sitting on a bench under the shade of a tree. Her hand maidens were sitting by themselves a little apart from her. Queen Cersei sat resplendent in her flowing dark green silk gown matching her eyes. Her golden hair woven in a complex style atop her head. No matter what her personality was, nobody could deny that Cersei Lannister was a beautiful woman.

"Your Grace." Lord Arryn bowed to her.

"Ah, Lord Arryn. Why you look quite tired; did you come directly from the throne room, My Lord?"

Lord Arryn thought to take up the practice of Stannis Baratheon and gnash his teeth together.

"Ser Mandon was quite insistent that I visit you immediately, Your Grace. I had indeed just finished holding the court for the day when he found me."

"Oh, that man." Cersei shook her head. "I asked him to tell you that I would like to see you at your convenience, but naturally he thought otherwise." False sympathy dripped from her voice. "Please, take a seat, My Lord Hand. Would you like some food? A drink, perhaps?" She indicated the opposite end of the bench on which she was perched herself.

"My thanks, Your Grace, a glass of wine would certainly help." Lord Arryn sat down opposite of the Queen.

A serving girl hurried along and poured him a glass of wine at the Queen's nod. He took a savouring sip of the fine Arbour Gold under the scrutiny of the Queen.

"Are you sure you do not want to eat something, My Lord? Ser Mandon should not have said that I requested your presence right this moment. A fine man, he is. Jaime says he is the most dangerous man of the Kingsguard. After him, of course." She laughed out at that, "But as you can see, he is quite literal at what he was ordered to perform. I will be having a word with him for his misinterpretation of my request."

Lord Arryn didn't miss the subtle threat behind her words. "It is of no issue, Your Grace. I am quite happy to spend some time with such a beautiful company."

Cersei gave him a pleased smile. "You are quite the flatterer, My Lord Hand."

"Not at all, My Queen. You are indeed the most beautiful woman in all of Seven Kingdoms" He set aside his glass, "Now if it pleases Your Grace, why did you summon me?"

"Ah, yes, of course. I almost forgot. I wanted to speak to you about the upcoming tourney."

Lord Arryn shook his head. "I am afraid you have the wrong man to discuss the tourney, Your Grace. Lord Renly is in charge of the arrangements and Petyr is looking after the expenses. I just review and stamp my approvals on the parchments they send my way."

"Oh no, My Lord, I do not have any intention to discuss the itinerary of the tourney. I want to have a chat with you about a certain rumour that I heard."

"Oh? And what is this rumour, Your Grace?"

Cersei laced her fingers together on her lap and slightly narrowed her eyes. "I heard that invitation is being sent for the bastard of Lord Stark to attend this tourney."

Lord Arryn's back stiffened just a bit. Where are you going with this, you hag? – He thought. "Ah, yes. young Jon Snow. His Grace is quite insistent that the lad visits him. He had heard about his heroics a lot and want to meet with the son of his friend in person."

A scowl formed on Cersei's face, "Is it wise, My Lord? Sending special invitation from the King to a baseborn son of a lord could send quite the wrong message to the kingdoms."

Baseborn or not, I am sure the lad will be more delightful than that spawn of yours. I have heard whispers about Joffrey. I know what a vicious cunt your son is and how he behaves with the staff as well as his siblings. – Mused Lord Arryn.

"I tried to dissuade him from doing so, Your Grace. But you know Robert, once a notion gets into his head, none can turn him away from that."

"I do not like this, My Lord Hand. He is sending a special invitation to his friend's bastard. What's next? Does he plan to get those bastards of his own and raise them in the red keep along with the royal children?"

Lord Arryn sighed, "I understand your concerns, Your Grace. But all I can say to you is that I will have another chat with His Grace and try to change his mind about this."

Cersei didn't reply, she turned her head away from him.

"If that is all, Your Grace, May I take my leave? I am quite tired after holding court all day long in absence of His Grace."

"Yes, Robert hasn't recovered yet from last night's 'entertainments'!" A sneer marred her beautiful visage.

Lord Arryn got up from the bench and gave her a bow. Just as he turned away from her, Cersei called him from behind.

"I am thinking about giving Robert a gift, My Lord Hand. Do you think he will appreciate a small, beautifully crafted dagger? They are quite useful and easier to carry, and I heard quite the praises for the works of that Qohorik smith, Tobho Mott, I believe is his name?"

"Yes, My Queen, he is truly quite the craftsman." Lord Arryn again gave her a curt bow and swiftly made his way out of the gardens.

This is not good. He thought as he went on his way, she had found out about Robert's bastard and now planning to end the life of that poor lad. I have to think up something to keep him safe. Oh, Robert. If only you could control your urges…

*Line Break*

Jon woke up with a start. Something felt unusual in his sleep. He looked around the room as sleep left his eyes. Suddenly, panic rose in his chest as he found a woman lying beside him, half draped over his body. He couldn't see her face as brown locks of hair obscured her face. He slowly moved from underneath her and got out of the bed, grabbing a pair of breeches and a tunic that lay discarded on the floor. As he dressed, he took a closer look around the room. It seemed to be a room of Winterfell castle - the stones of walls and the rune carved wooden beams were proofs of that, but Jon had never seen this room in his life. His eyes fell over a mirror which was placed at the corner beside the bed. Something about his reflection didn't appear quite right to him, so he went and stood before the mirror.

He had to stifle a yelp of shock because the man that was looking back at him from the mirror was not him. The man of the mirror was much thinner, but by no means weak, had a narrow, Northern face with a pointy set of beard. Jon brushed his fingers over his face, wondering what in the name of Gods had happened to him.

"Greetings, Champion."

Jon whirled on his feet to see a pale silhouette of Lady Minerva floating near the window.

"My Lady." He went down on his knees.

"Please, get up, My Champion. We have much to discuss and we do not have enough time."

Jon got up and stood before the Goddess.

"You must be wondering where or who you are?" Jon nodded, "As I told you before, the artefacts you wear, will help you to delve into memories from the past. Memories of your ancestors or the previous men who held the title of the Champion. You will relive their lives in these memories, learn from their successes or failures. But I must warn you, you cannot change anything, for these events had already come to pass. All you will be seeing is an echo of the events from the eyes of men who had experienced these by themselves. Think of this as a ride in a cart. You will not be in charge of the bodies you will find yourself to be in, the men or women will live their lives as they did, and you will only observe and learn as them. Right now, you inhibit the body of Theon Stark, the Hungry Wolf. Soon you will be notified of the Andal Invasion of the North."

Lady Minerva faded from view. As soon as she was gone, the woman in the bed started to stir from her slumber. Jon/Theon turned towards her.

"My love, what are you doing up so early? Please, come back to bed…" She opened her arms in invitation. Jon/Theon could see her perky breasts and pink nipples peeking out from under the furs. Jon felt as if he was being pushed further away from the consciousness of the man and just made to watch, but in no way could he control the body. Theon smiled and got into the bed and on top of his wife, Melana.

"I do have a kingdom to run, my sweet, but I will also be remiss in my duties if I neglect my beautiful wife." He bent down and captured her lips with his own. His right hand cupped her left breast and kneaded it. Melana moaned in his mouth. Theon started to kiss down her jaw, collarbone, the valley in between her breasts while his hands were busy on the soft mounds of flesh. He licked her navel and was about to delve down when an insistent knocking on the doors ruined the moment.

"Who is it?" Theon growled in annoyance.

"My King, you are needed in the Great Hall. It is quite urgent."

"I am sure whatever it is, can wait for an hour or two." He turned his head and placed a soft bite on his wife's belly, happy to hear her moaning out in pleasure.

"I am afraid it can't, My King. A messenger from Lord Bolton had arrived carrying dire news. There is an invasion, My King."

Blood roared in Theon's ears. Who had dared to invade his lands? He jumped up from the bed much to his wife's displeasure and started to put on his armours and weapons. His magical bracers, as always, changed from their leather wristbands forms to their original bracers forms.

"Duty calls, My Queen. But I give you my words that I will finish what I have started once I have dealt with the fucking cunts who dared to spread their greedy paws towards my lands." He bent down to give a peck at his wife's forehead before hurrying out of the room.

He reached the Great Hall to find an agitated man in Bolton colours fidgeting before the throne. He sat down and asked, "Speak in short and precise words, what did Lord Rogar have said?"

Rogar Bolton, or as he was known, Rogar the Huntsman, was the last of the Red Kings before they kneeled to the Starks and accepted the vassalage of the Kings of Winter. Age had caught up to the former Red King, he was leading a quiet life inside the Dreadfort and training his heir, Leander, to take up after his passing.

The Bolton man took a knee before Theon, he kept looking at the ground and spoke in a loud, clear voice, "Lord Rogar has sent a message that warships are approaching the coast, My King. Lord Leander went on a fishing trip and spotted them. He had sent a messenger to our Lord. The invaders mayhaps already have landed by the time it took me to ride hard from Dreadfort to Winterfell, My King."

Theon leaned back to the throne, his eyes were blazing with fury.

"Aidan!" He yelled out the name of his master-at-arms, Aidan Poole. The man hurriedly approached the throne. "Prepare the men, it seems we will be going for a war."

He got up and left the Great Hall. He went out to the Godswood. Entering it, he let out a loud whistle. He didn't have to wait for long, a huge direwolf came rushing from within the woods. Brodir had come running to answer the calling of his companion. He stood almost as tall as Theon, his grey fur glistening under the summer sun. Theon rubbed the wolf behind his ears and brought his face down to touch his forehead with his own.

"We are going for a fight, boy. Are you ready to sink your teeth into the flesh of some foolish cunts?"

Brodir licked his face in reply.

Everything started to fade into wisps of smoke.

[CotW]

When the smoke once again coalesced together to become solid figures, Jon/Theon found himself sitting atop horseback, riding along on a Hunter's Path in a slow trot through some woods with his men at his back. They heard a sharp whistle sounded ahead of them. Theon put his right arm up to stop the men from advancing. He could hear hoofbeats approaching them. Brodir silently came out of the woods, as if he suddenly materialized out of the darkness. He came to stand beside his horse, only his warging abilities kept the horse from running in full out panic. A men came out from behind a cluster of trees and stopped his horse a little away from them. Theon recognized him as one of the outriders he had sent out days ago to scout for the enemies. The man placed his right fist over his heart and bowed.

"My King."

"What have you got?"

"The Umber and Karstark men have driven the Andals back to the sea, My King. As of now, I heard their ships are relocating at Widow's Watch."

"That is good news, what else?"

"Lord Rogar is no more, My King. He and his men were ambushed when they were returning to Dreadfort from seeing the men camped out at the feet of Sheepshead Hill. The Hornwoods gave them chase but lost them in the darkness of the night. Lord Leander hasn't returned to Dreadfort since then, he has camped out near Weeping Waters. Rumours have it that one of the Andal Warlords by the name of Argos Sevenstar made to shore there and directing his men to raid along the coastline. Lord Leander is trying to protect the villages and the men but he is in dire need of help, My King."

"And Lord Leander shall receive help." He turned his horse to face his men, "Men, Leander Bolton stands alone and fighting the battle for all of us Northerners. Let us go and give our brothers a helping hand. Let us show these Andal fuckers what happens when they dare to come into the wolf's den. We will sacrifice their entrails to the Gods, we will mount their heads on the very coast they dared to invade. I promised my wife that her children will live in a happy and prosperous North and I have no intentions to turn back on my promise. I make another promise to you, my brothers, I will see to it that your children don't have to fight this battle once again, for I will put the fear of our Gods in them. This I swear to you…I swear it by earth and water, I swear it by bronze and iron…"

The men raised their weapons high in the air and shouted in unison with their king, "…we swear it by ice and fire!"

The scene once again faded from view.

[CotW]

This time, when the smokes cleared, Jon/Theon found himself in the middle of a pitched battle. He had a shield strapped to his left hand and a long sword in his right. Three Andals charged at him, he blocked the sword from left with the shield and kicked at the knees of the man in the middle while parrying the sword thrust from the man in right. His heel connected to the side of the man's knee and even though he was heavily armoured, the kick landed at the joints of the armours with enough force to bend it in an awkward angle, the man grunted and got down on a knee. Theon capitalized on this and drove his sword through the gap of the man's gorget and half helm. The man on the left once again swung his sword at him, Theon raised his shield and covered his torso while freeing his sword from the dying man. The man on the right tried to land a sneak attack but was stopped by a force of nature, Brodir had jumped on the man's back and forced him down on the ground. He clamped his jaws on his neck and gave it a shake, breaking the man's neck in the process. Theon drove his shoulder to the middle of the remaining man and forced him back a couple of steps. They exchanged blows for a couple of minutes before Theon relieved him off his sword and drove his own through the gap on the side, right into the man's chest.

The wolf and the man wreaked havoc on the Andals. Weeping Water ran red that day from the blood of both Andals and the Northmen. The Northerners fought valiantly against the better-equipped Andals, not giving them an inch in battle. Theon found himself fighting side by side with Leander Bolton.

"Great to see you, My King! Are you having a nice enough time?" The man was smiling viciously.

"Aye, My Lord Leander, you arrange for the warmest of welcomes." Theon smiled back just as viciously to him.

After a while, they spotted a tall, beefy man fighting against three Northerners. Leander pointed him out to Theon.

"That, My King, is Argos Sevenstar. He is the warlord that led this invasion. He claims that his gods have promised him lands and wealth."

"Then let me give him a proper welcome from our Gods." Theon hefted his shield and sword up and took a step towards the man but stopped by Leander.

"Just promise me one thing, My King, you will grant me the privilege of ending his life. I have sworn at my father's grave to avenge his death."

Theon nodded his head and advanced towards the warlord as he despatched the last of the Northerners who were fighting him. Seeing as Theon approached him, he sneered.

"Ah, the little wolf who fancies himself a king. Come to die by my hands, have you, little wolf? I promise that your death will be as painful as I can make it."

His boasting cut short as Brodir made his way beside Theon, his muzzle and claws were red with dripping blood of his victims. Sevenstar took a few steps backwards seeing the massive beast. It was Theon's turn to smirk back.

"I can assure you, you Andal cunt, that there is nothing little about us wolves." He turned his head towards Brodir, "líðbrodirr, þessi er minn veiði." (Go Brodir, this is my hunt)

As he saw Brodir leave to attack others, Sevenstar regained some of his bravadoes. "You should have kept that beast with you, little wolf. Now, you will face alone against the might of Argos Sevenstar, blessed by the Seven themselves. I have fought against the Valyrians and took my sword from their cold corpse. I will water your Godswood with your blood before I burn them to the ground."

Sevenstar raised his greatsword over his head and rushed to attack, Theon dove to a side and jumped up to his feet, he tried to swing his sword at Sevenstar's midsection, but the man brought his sword down to block that attack. Theon started to circle him, trying to find a point of attack. Sevenstar swung his sword aiming for his head, Theon ducked behind his raised shield. The sword sliced off the top portion of his shield. Theon jumped back from the reach of the sword and peered closely at it. It was made of black metal with a smoky appearance, rippling patterns could be seen all over it. He had heard about Valyrian made weapons, this must be one of those, like the hidden blades from my bracers – he thought. None of the conventional weapons was supposed to fare well against Valyrian steel. Theon dropped his sword and unstrapped the now destroyed shield from his left hand. He would have to use his magical bracers against him. An eager smile formed on Sevenstar's face as he saw Theon divesting off his sword and shield.

"Do you wish to surrender, little wolf? Then get down on your knees and I will make your death a quick one."

Theon smirked and twisted his wrists to bring out the hidden blades. He rushed Sevenstar and dodged when he swung the greatsword, but as he was passing him by, he lashed out with his right hand and thrust his open palm at the right side of his torso through the gap in his armour, letting the hidden blade pierce through. He jerked his hand back and left a rending wound at Sevenstar's right side and cut off a chunk of the plate-mail armour he was wearing. Sevenstar screamed in pain and grabbed his side by his left hand. He watched disbelievingly at the blood that poured out in torrents from his side. He snarled at Theon and again rushed at him, but Theon kept dodging him, he was sure that he had pierced his lung through the side, it was only a matter of time that the blood loss from his wound would make him go down. True to his prediction, Sevenstar's movements slowed as his breathing became laboured. By then, he was coughing up blood. He swung his blade at him but missed as Theon danced away from him. The force behind his swing made it hard for him to maintain his balance in his weakened state, thus he toppled over, coughing up more blood on the ground. His sword has fallen from his numb hand. Northmen around them yelled in celebration of their King's win. Sevenstar's men had started to drop their weapons and surrendered to the Northerners seeing their leader had fallen in battle. Theon walked over and picked the weapon up from the ground for a closer inspection. It was a beautifully crafted sword made of Valyrian steel, lighter than any other broadsword he had ever wielded. In the back recess of Theon's mind, Jon could recognize that sword to be the Stark ancestral sword, Ice.

"You have my thanks for providing me with this sword, Andal." He turned his head to his men and called out, "Lord Leander, he is all yours. Just be careful that his head is attached to his body and his face is recognizable. I have further plans for him."

[CotW]

Jon/Theon found himself onboard a ship. He was standing at the prow with Leander Bolton and Aidan Poole standing at either side of him. They were looking at the corpse that was strung in front of the ship like a grotesque figurehead. Leander took out his vengeance for his father's death by giving Argos Sevenstar a death by the bloody eagle. His back was cut open and his ribs were broken and spread apart with his lungs brought out and spread over the broken ribs like wings of an eagle while the man still drew breath. Later, they strung his body on his own ship as they prepared to cross the Narrow Sea to launch an invasion of their own on the shores of Andalos. Decay had already set into the corpse, making the man somewhat unrecognizable, but he could still be distinguished by his armours which they strapped onto his corpse.

"Isn't it a tad excessive, My King?" Aidan asked while looking wearily at the rotting corpse.

"Wasn't it excessive when he or his men were killing and raping Northern men and women?" Theon spat. He had ordered for every man that they captured to be beheaded and their heads to be mounted on spikes along the eastern shore, as a warning to every invader of what would happen if they turn their gaze on Northern lands.

"I thought that only we Boltons have our bloody ways." Leander quipped.

"How do you think we Starks became the Kings of Winter? By giving our enemies bunch of flowers?" Theon smirked.

"Land ahead!" The man who was perched onto the Crows' Nest yelled down.

"Get the men ready to launch the attack, but warn them, they may loot and kill to their heart's content, but rapers will be losing their heads. We Northmen do not treat women that way."

Theon looked on as the shore came nearer and nearer. People who had thronged to see their ship's return started to panic and run about as headless chickens when they caught sight of the corpse of their beloved warlord. Theon had a wolfish smile on his face, his new sword, which he named 'Ice' after the long-lost Stark legacy sword, was about to taste Andal blood.

[CotW]

They were back at the North. As the men pillaged and burned the localities along the Andalos coast, Theon himself took to raid the few noble's dwellings who lived there. He brought back with him chests full of gold, jewellery and precious stones. He made a few Andal captives carry the chests to the Wolfswood and dug out a hole under a Weirwood tree. He will bury the treasures there for later usage. For the war with the Andals wasn't over yet. He wouldn't have the time to invest in making the North prosperous while battling the invaders off these lands. He will finish the men he had forced to hide the treasures and offer their blood to the Gods, begging them to watch over his wealth.

One of his guards called out for him, telling him that the prisoners have finished burying the loot. Theon had a vicious smile on his face as he unsheathed his Valyrian sword.

[CotW]

Jon opened his eyes and let out a relieved breath to find himself in the familiar surrounding of his room this time. He laid his head back on the pillow and rubbed his temples. He was having a hard time keeping his thoughts separated from those of Theon the Hungry Wolf. His Champion's Mind wasn't working as it had before since his encounter with Bloodraven. Like his warging, it too had been affected. Though he was regaining his mental abilities, it was a very slow process. He looked out of the window and watched as the first rays of the sun started to break through the darkness of the night.

After a while, Jon jumped up from his bed. An idea had started to form in his mind.

[CotW]

Robb was sleeping soundly in his room when someone started to shake him. He turned away from whoever was disturbing his sleep, but the person didn't quit.

"Get up, Stark." He could hear his brother's voice through the haze of sleep.

"Fuck off, Jon." He mumbled in his pillow and shoved his head under the furs.

He was rudely woken up as Jon yanked him from his bed down on the ground with the furs and all.

"The fuck is wrong with you, Jon? It is not even properly dawn yet."

"Stop whining and get ready. We will be going out."

"Where?"

"You will see, now get up. I have to go and drag Asher's arse from his bed." He turned away to leave the room, but stopped before the doors and looked back over his shoulder. "Oh, and if I find that you have gone back to sleep, I will shove snow down your breeches. I mean it, Robb."

He ducked out of the room snickering as Robb threw a pillow at his retreating form.

[CotW]

Robb, Asher and Torrhen had gathered in front of the stable. They stood there wrapped up in cloaks to stave off the morning chill, grumbling among themselves that Jon had woken them up at this ungodly hour and ordered them to come to the stables while he had vanished only Lady Minerva knew where.

Jon came out of the keep carrying two huge sacks with him. He put them down and started to unbolt the stable doors.

"Get a move on, lads. Hodor or the other stableboys aren't up yet, we have to saddle the horses ourselves."

Robb gave a dubious glance at the sacks, "What are these?"

"Some empty sacks, spades and pickaxes. The other one has loaves of bread, dried fruits, salted meats and skins of water in it. We won't be returning till the day is over I am afraid."

"And where are we going?"

"We are going to dig a hole." Jon gave them a mysterious smile.

*Line Break*

Ned sat down beside his wife at the Great Hall to break his fast. It had been a week since their confrontation at his solar. Jon had dragged Robb to him to say his apologies, but his son remained stubborn. Catelyn's tears or Jon's threat, nothing seemed to work on Robb, he had apologized to him but continued to avoid Ned at every possible opportunity. Ned's mind was still reeling from the information he got to know. Old memories, as well as old wounds, arose for Eddard Stark. He yet had to come to terms with the fact that Lya was the Knight of the Laughing Tree. And Robert? Ned knew of his boastful nature but he never even imagined that he could stoop that low. Grief and guilt overwhelmed him whenever Ned saw Jon these days, for he had indeed sent letters to his father and sister, requesting, nay begging, them to give Robert a chance. Those were the reasons that he didn't dole out any punishment for Robb. He felt that he deserved whatever accusations his son threw his way. Jon had taken it upon himself to punish Robb for the way he behaved. He dragged him to the yard every day at dawn and ran him through rigorous training that left him wheezing on the ground and walking with a limp. Ned had thought to speak with Jon so that he would let it be somewhat easier for Robb, but Cat had dissuaded him from doing that, she thought Robb should be punished for his acts and if Ned didn't feel to do so by himself, then whatever Jon was doing with him, was justifiable.

Lord Royce was quite happy to meet with both Robb and Jon. He had heard about how the young men have led the defence of Bear Island and later, acted as rearguards for the troops that went to Skagos. Being an experienced commander himself, Lord Royce gave them suggestions on how to move troops or how to make or break camps within a minimum of time. Both lads quite eagerly partook in those tactical discussions.

Before he left for the Wall with his son, Lord Royce challenged Ned for a spar in the yard. For old time's sake, Ned agreed and the two lords clashed blades against each other. Ned was beaten at the end after a prolonged bout. Jon had cornered him later that day and asked why he didn't push for a win against Lord Royce. Ned had to make him understand that he could've seriously injured the older man if he had gone for a win. Moreover, Lord Royce was one of his mentors during his stay at the Vale, he chose to throw the spar for the same reason they agreed to the spar, the sake of the old times.

Iss had come out of the broken tower after the fourth day. Somehow she acquired the knowledge of when the household sat down for meals, she would come beside Ned's seat and nudged him until he gave her a piece of bacon or meat from his plate, it didn't matter even when Ned had ordered for a separate plate only for herself, she would not budge till she had the morsels from Ned's hands. Ned had to order the guard to keep a closer watch on Arya lest his overenthusiastic daughter went inside the broken tower. She routinely asked each morning either him or Jon if that was the day she could hold the wolf pups. Ned and Jon had visited the pups, and Iss indulged them by showing off her children to them. There were four male and two female pups. The runt of the litter, the pup with fur white as the snow seemed to recognize Jon's touch and snuggled to his hand whenever he felt Jon petting him.

Ned greeted his wife with a kiss on her cheek, they had become very affectionate with each other lately. As he sat down, Iss came ambling inside the Hall. The first day she did so, she had caused quite a scare amongst the guards and the servants. Nobody was prepared to see such a huge beast walking through the keep. Iss came beside him and nudged his shoulder. She didn't even look at the plate which was set out for her. Ned sighed and picked up a few sausages from his plate and held those out for Iss. He turned to see Catelyn trying to hide her smirk from him. He raised an eyebrow asking silently what amused her so.

"It seems you have acquired another daughter, husband, another girl to bend you around her fingers, or paws in this case."

Ned chuckled and scratched Iss behind her ears, the she-wolf had finished the sausages and finally deigned to notice her plate. Ned took a glance around the table but found neither boys nor their friends present for the morning meal. He turned to his wife.

"Where are the lads this morning?"

"I don't know. Ser Rodrick informed me that the guards saw the four of them riding out at the crack of the dawn. And a little while ago, Vayon came to me saying that the kitchen staff were complaining about somebody raiding the pantry and making off with a sackload of food. I think the boys were behind that one. They could have gone for a day of hunting."

Ned nodded his head, though something about that didn't sit quite right with him. They didn't say anything about a hunting trip the day before, then why would they go out so early? When did they make the plan?

Sansa, who was listening as her parents were conversing about the boys, pouted and said, "Does that mean they won't be training with us today?"

Even a year ago, Ned would have never expected his prim and proper eldest daughter to look forward to training with arms. He was amazed at the changes he saw in her.

"That's not fair." Arya piped up, "Jon had promised me that he would show me some tricks that will help me to shoot like Sansa today."

That's another thing, who would have ever thought of Sansa being so proficient with a bow? – thought Ned.

"I am sorry, my sweets, they must have planned this among themselves last night. For none of us knew that they would go out so early this morning. I am afraid that you will have to practice on your own for today."

Both sisters scowled and started to talk with each other in low voices, probably planning retribution for Jon and Robb. Ned was happy to see that since the departure of Septa Mordane, the sisters became closer than ever.

Ned finished his meal and went to his solar, planning on finishing some of the parchment works that were beginning to pile up on his desk. He was soon engrossed in his works. His concentration broke a couple of hours later by a knock on the doors.

"Enter."

"Pardon me, milord, but a convoy was spotted." Vayon informed him.

"The Karstarks or the Forresters?" Ned knew that either could arrive at any day by then.

"'Tis the Karstarks, milord. They are flying the sunburst banners."

Ned stood up to go and greet Rickard, and most probably his wife. Soon, the Karstark party came through the gates. Lord Rickard rode ahead of a horse-drawn cart that carried the Ladies Anya and Alys Karstark. After the rounds of introduction and the ceremony of bread and salt, Rickard glanced around the yard.

"I don't see the lads anywhere, Ned?"

"I have been informed that the four of them rode out at the crack of the dawn, they probably have gone for some hunting."

Rickard turned to see the scowl that formed on his wife's face hearing Ned's answer. He chuckled, "You know how the lads are, My Lady. It was hardly a day when Torrhen and Jon hadn't gone out for a hunt at Karhold."

A series of loud gasps came from the new arrivals. Lady Anya pulled her daughter behind her while clutching her chest. Ned turned to see that Iss had come out to offer her greetings. He assured Rickard and his men that she didn't mean them any harm.

Rickard, still jittery, tried to gather his nerves, "So the rumours are indeed true then. The boys have returned with a direwolf. I have heard on the road how the Starks are once again blessed by the Old Gods."

"She has pups!" Arya blurted out from beside her mother.

"There are pups?" Alys Karstark had forgotten all about being shy or the scary, big wolf and peered around her mother's skirt for the exciting prospect of seeing little wolf pups.

"Aye, but Father and Jon won't let me see them."

At that instance, Ned and Rickard looked at each other and gulped in terror because of the mischievous glints that shone in both the girls' eyes. They could only imagine what kind of chaos the older of the duo would drag the younger into.

[CotW]

It had taken Jon a while to find the exact Weirwood tree with the clearing that he had seen in his dream. When he found the tree, he signalled the others to get off from their horses.

"Alright, lads. I am entrusting you with a Stark Family secret here. You may ask why I brought you here and not my uncle. The reason is, I have received another dream. Aye, just as same as the one with Bloodraven, but this time, I dreamt as if I was Theon the Hungry Wolf. I dreamt of his defending the North from the Andal invasion with the help of a Bolton lord. I saw him invading the Andalos coast and burying his loot here. They may remain buried here still, or they may not, for Theon could have dug them up later in his life. I didn't want to give false hope to my uncle. This way, if we found the treasure, North will benefit and can be prepared for the Long Night, if not, we four only waste a day of labour. What say you?"

The others nodded their heads and brought the equipment out from the sack. They started to dig the soil where Jon had marked. It was backbreaking labour digging the almost frozen solid ground, coupled with their inexperience, the four took a long time to dig up a foot-deep hole.

Exhausted, Torrhen leaned on his spade and said –

"I don't think we can manage to dig much deeper by ourselves just in a day."

"Aye, it was a mistake on my part to think that we could manage this by ourselves." Jon crashed down on the ground beside the hole.

Asher had laid down on the grounds. "So what are we to do now?"

Jon looked at Robb – What do you think, Stark?

Robb wiped his brow and speared mud all over his face – I think we need to tell father.

Jon gave him a hard stare – Very well, but you will talk to him.

Robb spluttered – But I…

Jon turned away from him and said, "Let's go back to the castle."

[CotW]

When Ned heard that the boys were returning, he went to the yard. He looked on amusedly as the four rode through the gates, covered head to toe in mud and grime. But he didn't see any games that they brought back with them, neither they had any hunting gears. Only Jon was carrying something in sacks tied to his saddle.

"I reckon every beast and bird fled when they spotted you four?"

They looked at each other guiltily, Jon opened his mouth to say something but Ned stopped him. "I don't want to hear it. Go get yourselves cleaned. The Karstarks have arrived earlier today."

Ned could only chuckle at the speed the foursome fled from his presence, but he was surprised to see Jon doubled back.

"We haven't gone for hunting, Lord Stark. We need to have a discussion later in your solar."

Curious, Ned nodded his head with a frown.

[CotW]

Supper that evening at Winterfell was a celebration of shorts, with a reunion of a mother and her sons (for Lady Anya always thought of Jon as her own) after nearly two years and a retelling of the story of how the boys carried a pregnant Iss inside of the keep so she could give birth to her pups in safety, the air of the Great Hall was full of merriment. Though, not quite so for Jon. He found himself between Arya and Alys with both the girls giving him puppy dog eyes so that he would take them to see the pups. He had sent pleading looks to both ladies Catelyn and Anya, but neither of them came to his rescue, moreover, Jon was almost sure that he saw smirks upon their faces whenever the girls were pestering him.

After supper, the four paid a visit to Ned at his solar. He waited patiently as Jon and Robb had one of their silent conversations. Finally, under Jon's glare, Robb sighed and cleared his throat.

"Father, we didn't go for a hunt this morning." Ned was quite happy inside as his son was speaking to him properly after a week, but his face remained impassive as he motioned for Robb to continue, "As we had discussed when we returned, the North needs to be prepared to face the Long Night but we lack the coinage. Jon had a dream last night, that may or may not help us out in that regard."

Ned frowned and leaned back in his seat. "Explain."

Robb sent Jon a look, he sighed and nodded.

"What Robb means, Lord Stark is that I have had a dream, another visitation from Lady Minerva per se. But in this dream, I was living the life as Theon Stark, the Hungry Wolf…"

Jon recounted his story and told his uncle how he thought he could manage to recover the treasure, if there was any, with only his friend's help.

"We saw no other option than telling you, My Lord. We will need your help to see if my hunch was right or not." He looked beseechingly at Ned.

Ned stippled his fingers together. This would require some careful planning.

[CotW]

Ned watched as men kept digging under the Weirwood tree. He had ordered Jory to discreetly bring reliable men to where Jon pointed them. It took them three days to dig out a hole as deep as a grown man's height. The ground had been frozen solid after centuries of cold and snowdrifts. Rickard and Gregor were beside him on their horses while the boys themselves had gone down the hole to lend a few helping hands to the men. The Forresters had arrived a day after the Karstarks did. Ned hadn't told the lords why they were excavating deep in the woods, only hinted that it was of utmost secrecy and something that would help the entire North. The boys' fame among the men and the rumours of them receiving blessings of the Children and the Gods had certainly helped with that. Now, here he was, praying in his mind that the dreams of Jon came true.

"Milord, we have hit something." A man shouted from the hole.

"Bring it up." Ned could feel his heart began to beat faster with anticipations.

The men carried out what looked like a medium-sized chest, chunks of clay were frozen on it after centuries of being buried under the ground. Jon almost snatched a pickaxe from the man next to him. He swung it overhead and brought it down with all his strength upon the lid. The already weakened wood broke with a muted crack, he dropped the axe and tore apart the broken pieces with his bare hands. Ned could see the gleaming of metals coming from inside of the chest. Jon scooped up a handful of small gold ornaments and rare gems and offered them to Ned.

"Let the North become prosperous, My Lord."

*Line Break*

They had found about ten similar trunks buried within the ground, along with the remnants of human skeletons, which Jon said were the Andals that Theon forced to dig the hole and later killed them as sacrifices to the Gods. Rickard and Gregor were very enthusiastic in partaking in the discussions of how to utilize the newfound wealth best to the cause. The boys once again proposed building a trading post at Skagos as well as fortifying the island so it wouldn't be vulnerable to wildling attacks and also rebuilding the broken castle at Sea Dragon Point as a stronghold to deter Ironborn attacks. Their logic was, if the North started to establish new trading relations with the rest of Westeros and Essos, then the Southerners won't be any wiser of them finding the buried treasure of Theon Stark. That would give them the excuses they need to slowly rebuild the broken keeps all around the North and erect new glass gardens at every lord's resident so that the North had a steady supply of food even during the winter. Rickard had a proud smile on his face when Jon brought his ideas to the table, making Ned realize once again how the man had helped Jon becoming the best he can be with his gentle encouragements and patience.

The pups had started to trot along after their mother on their tiny, little legs. They had also chosen their human companions, the four male pups attached themselves with the four boys, while the female pups ran after Sansa and Arya. Robb named his grey-furred pup Grey Wind, and Rickon laughed as the black-furred pup licked his face. He yelled loudly and claimed his name was Shaggydog. Ned would like the dare anyone to make him understand the difference between a direwolf and a dog. Bran said he still hadn't found a suitable name for his pup. Sansa's pup reflects the same as her human, she was calm and demure like a lady, hence she was named Lady by Sansa. Arya named her pup Nymeria, after the princess. Her wolf was as wild as she. Often Ned watched amusedly as the girls – Arya and Alys, run away giggling with the pup hot on their trails, chased by either an irate Catelyn or an exasperated Lady Ella. Both Catelyn and Lady Anya blamed Jon for the chaos the two girls and the wolf brought every day because they sought refuge with him whenever they were blamed and Jon tried to shield them by taking all the blames on his head. But as people say, a mother always knows, so the ladies Catelyn and Anya knew who the real perpetrators were, but didn't say anything to either of them other than a gentle cuffing at Jon's head. They subtly encouraged these behaviours. Ned had asked Cat why she allows that to happen, smiling, she replied to him that Jon and Arya's shenanigans reminded her of what she used to do with her siblings. Then she sighed and lamented about the times when she tried to forbid Arya from spending times with Jon.

Jon's pup was the most remarkable, his fur was as white as freshly fallen snow. He had intelligent, red eyes. People often whispered about Jon as the Blessed One, as his pup bore the appearance of the Weirwood trees. While the other pups yapped all day long, the white pup never made a sound. He was either a mute or an immensely intelligent creature. He observed everything with his gleaming red eyes and followed Jon silently. Even barely a month old, he obeyed every command given to him by Jon. Due to his silent nature and white fur, Jon had named the pup Ghost. Along with the rumours of him being blessed by the Children and being gifted with a bow, his connection with his bird, and now the wolf pup, his prowess in the yard and the fame that he earned in his exploits and during the Skagosi invasion, were slowly turning Jon into a living legend among the smallfolk.

That morning, as they sat down to break their fast, Maester Luwin rushed into the Great Hall.

"A raven from the Capitol, My Lord!"

Ned frowned and took the scroll from the Maester, it bore the seal of the crowned stag. He broke the seal and started to read the missive, as he read, his face became more serious. He laid the parchment down on the table and looked at Jon.

"King Robert has sent his invitation for you to attend a tourney at Kings' Landing in three moon's time."

Catelyn had a hand covering her mouth, her eyes full of fear, Jon and Robb looked at each other. Jon turned towards Ned and gave him the slightest nod.

[CotW]

They had gathered at Ned's solar after breakfast. Ned proffered the letter to Jon and asked him to read it aloud to Robb and Catelyn.

Dear Ned,

It has been a while since we saw each other. What was it, ten years since the Greyjoy Rebellion? I hope you and yours are happy and healthy.

News has reached us in the Red Keep about your sons' heroics. His Grace was quite happy to learn that your boys have grown to become such fierce warriors. He has expressed his desire to see his old friend. I know that you are busy taking care of the North, but His Grace has insisted that either you come to visit him or you send your son, Jon Snow, for the tourney at Kings' Landing in three months of your receiving this missive.

I sincerely hope to either see you or meet your son, my namesake.

Yours truly,

Jon Arryn

Lord Paramount of the Vale

Lord of Eyrie and Warden of the East.

Hand to the King

His Grace, King Robert of House Baratheon, the first of his name, King of the Andals and the Rhoyner and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm, defender of the faith, is hereby sending an invite to Lord Eddard of House Stark, Lord Paramount of the North, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, to attend the tourney that will be held in the tenth month of this year. If Lord Stark is unable to attend, he must send his son, Jon Snow, as his representative according to His Grace's wish.

Sincerely,

Lord Jon Arryn

Lord Paramount of the Vale

Lord of Eyrie and Warden of the East

Hand to the King

"Do you think that they come to know about Jon?" Lady Catelyn was clutching her hands together.

"No, If Robert knew, then he wouldn't have sent a raven, instead, we would've been trying to mount a defence against his host. It is as Lord Arryn said, they have come to hear about Jon's exploits. That shouldn't be surprising since bards have been singing songs about the White Wolf for nearly two years now. Still, I can't -" He stopped himself and took a deep breath, he didn't need another bout with his son. "I don't think it will be wise for Jon to visit Kings' Landing."

"But Uncle Ned, this is exactly what Bloodraven predicted. This is why I must travel south." Jon insisted.

"And I will be going with him, Father." Robb added.

"Robb -" Lady Catelyn stopped as Robb grabbed her hands and squeezed them.

"It is alright, Mother. Father can't go since we have plans to implement here in the North. And he needs to remain here to see them through. If I go with Jon, we can give wind to the ruse that we will be travelling to Essos after we attend the tourney. Just as heirs sometimes do before taking up their duties. That is if I am still the heir." He gave a challenging look to Ned.

"Shut up, Robb." Jon hissed at him.

Ned's face was impassive as he leaned back in his seat, looking intently at the boys. He sighed and lowered his hand from his chin, "As I know Robert, he won't rest this time till either Jon or I visit him. Also, Robb was right, I simply can't up and leave the North at this moment. Which only leaves us with one option, Jon must go to Kings' Landing. But," Ned sat up straight, "You must promise me to be very cordial and careful the entire duration of your stay there. You don't know the viper's pit that is the Capitol. I also agree with Robb's idea of the two of you going together, he can keep you from your more destructive tendencies," He looked at Jon, "but then again, I have my doubt after getting to know about the ranging beyond the Wall." He narrowed his eyes to Robb, who blushed and looked down. "But I have faith that the two of you will look out for each other, no matter what." They both nodded their heads fervently, they very much wanted to go and see the Capitol.

"Ned, think about what you are saying. They are just boys…" Catelyn had gone pale.

"Aye, they are boys, but also, they are hardened battle commanders. Not mere greenboys."

"Have no fear, dear Mother. We will not be by ourselves." Robb gave her a smirk.

"Aye, Aunt Cat, do you think the rest of the Wolfpack would just allow us to go by ourselves?"

"Great, two likeminded, thick-headed young boys to keep watch over two even more thick-headed young boys. I am so relieved." Catelyn snidely remarked.

Ned snorted and took his wife's hand within his, "Do not worry, My Lady, Maester Luwin will travel with them, at least till they reach Old Town. He has been asking me for a leave to visit the Citadel since his study on swordplay had created quite a stir. I believe he helped you with your dual-wielding?" He asked Jon, who nodded his head. "Luwin would be a much better chaperon than certain someone who I've been duped to entrust with the charge before…" Robb averted his eyes, "…so I believe the boys will be in better hands, of course, provided they do not incite anyone's ire there."

"Why don't you order Jory again to go with them, along with Maester Luwin?" Catelyn still wasn't very sure.

"Because, dear wife, I will be needing my captain of guards here in the North for the other undertakings. But Robb and Jon will have the same company they had been leading. Those fifty men respect them and know how their commanders think."

The arguments and counter-arguments continued for quite a while. In the end, Catelyn reluctantly agreed with their plans and gave her blessings for the boys to travel south.

[CotW]

It took them two weeks to reach the Neck. As Maester Luwin was travelling with them in a cart, they couldn't ride hard throughout the day but maintained a slow and steady pace. As expected, Asher and Torrhen had jumped at the chance to travel. Their lord fathers didn't raise any objection to that, but it was Lady Anya Karstark and Lady Molina Forrester, Asher's mother, who were reluctant to let their boys go again for a very long time. Jon too had a difficult time prying Arya off of him. Only the presence of Nymeria had prevented her from hiding in one of their trunks and stow away. Sansa was very excited about them going for a tourney, though, while the Sansa from two years ago would have been blabbering about handsome knights and love stories and nothing else, the new Sansa was quite worried about the prospect of either Jon or Robb taking part in the tourney. She had given Jon her usual favour though. When Robb asked about his favour from her, Sansa made faces at him. Poor Robb had to content himself with a lick from Lady instead. Bran and little Rickon were running about yelling that their brothers would come home as brave knights while Shaggydog and the still-unnamed pup of Bran's yipping after them. Tearful Lady Catelyn asked them, again and again, to take care of themselves and to not take any kind of risks. Ned stood there watching the farewell with a solemn look on his face. He was sure that Maester Luwin would perform his duties admirably and will keep the lads in line, still, fear and doubt lingered in his chest.

Jon and Robb thought that they would have to leave their pups at home. But as they were getting ready to leave, Grey Wind and Ghost started to whine from beside their mother. Iss was sitting imperiously beside Ned, she looked at the boys once, then she nudged her pups towards them as if permitting them to leave with their humans. Grey Wind yipped excitedly and ran before Robb's horse, while Ghost gave Jon a doggy (wolf?!) smile with a lolling tongue. It was very funny to watch the first interaction between Gale and Ghost. The bird screeched loudly at the wolf with her wings spread, Ghost was growling low in his throat. After a while, when they both calmed down a bit and stopped threatening the other, Gale neared a little towards Ghost and the wolf licked her head to show his friendliness, Gale screeched again and flew off to sit at a branch of a tree and glared balefully at Ghost. Sansa fell on the ground seeing the behaviours of the two animals. Gale didn't come near Ghost or Jon for a day.

As the towers of Moat Cailin came into view, they spotted a party advancing towards them, flying banners depicting lizard-lions. Jon had a wide smile on his face thinking of meeting with Lord Reed once again. He insisted on visiting the Moat again as he remembered his promise to Lord Reed. They would go to White Harbour afterwards and catch a ship to Kings' Landing from there. The lord of Greywater Watch himself had come to invite the sons of his liege lord for a couple of days' rest at his keep.

"It is good to see you again, My Lord."

"Aye, Jon, it is good to see you again." Lord Reed peered at Grey Wind and Ghost. The wolves had grown quite a bit in their travels. They were now as big as smaller hounds. Lord Reed smiled at the boys. "Direwolf companions for those of the Stark blood, just like the Winter Kings of old. Aye, we have heard about how you four carried their mother on your horses even this far."

Howland had brought with him the special rounded boats of the Crannogmen for them to travel from the Moat to Greywater Watch. It was impossible for anyone other than a man from the marshlands to steer the boat in the right way. They wondered how these precarious-looking vessels could carry the men and their horses to the keep, but Lord Reed had assured them that those boats would never capsize under the control of a Crannogman no matter how much weight they carry.

On the way to the keep, Lord Reed had told them stories of the old Marsh Kings. Stories of how the Crannogmen had led the Andals to chase their tails in these confusing and dangerous lands. For none could traverse safely here without the help of a Crannogman.

The keep of Greywater Watch was a sight to behold. It wasn't a huge keep in any way. It was made entirely out of wood, and only two stories high. The most amazing thing about the keep was, it was not stationary. The keep was built on one of those mysterious floating, little islands of the marshlands that kept moving about. Nobody could launch an attack at Greywater Watch because none could ascertain where the keep truly was.

Lord Reed invited everybody inside of the keep after the ceremony of bread and salt. He had introduced them to his family, his wife the Lady Jayna, his children Meera and Jojen Reed. Lady Jayna welcomed them with a bright smile. Meera was curious about the wolves and asked scores of questions about them. Jojen was a quiet and serious boy, Jon had never met anyone of that age to be that serious. Lord Howland bid the rest of them to take rest but stopped Jon from going with them. He asked him to follow him. Jon could see that Robb and the others were eager to follow come along.

"Can they come with us?"

"Do you think it will be wise? I have some news about her."

Jon sighed, "They know, Lord Reed. How they come to know, is a long story which I will tell you later. But they know about me."

Lord Reed rubbed his chin in thought for a little bit, then he nodded, "Very well, they can come with us." He turned to Robb, "Forgive me, My Lord Robb, I had no intention to show slight to you. But if you know about the truth, I am sure you can understand why I insisted that Jon should come with me alone."

Robb waved his hand, "It is alright, Lord Reed. We understand the need for secrecy. We didn't mind."

"I thank you, My Lord. Come Your Grace, it is not something that can wait any longer."

Jon tried to protest about the honorific, but the man had already turned around and started to walk away. Lord Reed led them to a room quite far from inside of the keep, inside of the said room stood a man. He was tall and had broad shoulders. His arms showed the sign of muscles from within his clothes, indicating that he was quite fit. He had long dark hair and a closely shaved beard. As soon as Jon entered the room, the man went down on a knee. Jon was about to protest, but Lord Reed stopped him. He said –

"Kindly allow me to make introductions. May I present, Prince Aemon Targaryen, trueborn son and heir of late Prince Rhaeger Targaryen and Princess Lyanna Targaryen of House Stark, the true heir to the Iron Throne." He turned towards Jon, "My Prince, this is former Kingsguard to King Aerys, Prince Rhaeger and Princess Lyanna. Current Kingsguard and sworn shield to yourself, Prince Aemon. Allow me the distinct pleasure of introducing you to Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of Morning."