5 Winterfell (Part 2)

[POV AQUILES VIRIDIUM – YEAR 271]

The younger of the two who had entered the room raised an eyebrow and furrowed his brow slightly as he looked at Aquiles. "Is your memory fading?" Rickard Stark questioned with a stoic and calm tone. Rickard Stark stands at a stature of 1.82 meters, which added an imposing presence to his stoic and calm figure. His hair is black, straight, and long, his face is square with a rigid and dignified appearance, his eyes are black and convey constant vigilance, ready to capture every detail. Rickard's attire consists of dense gray woolen clothing, with gray and black furs in some places, a harmonious blend with his dignified aura, and draped over his broad shoulders lay a cloak of grayish fur resembling wolf hide.

"I remember seeing a bear running towards a child, so I ran to help. Then I don't remember anything else!" Aquiles strained to maintain his expression of confusion as he replied, lowering his gaze as if trying to recall what had happened. Aquiles wasn't lying; those were indeed the only memories his new body had left him with.

"The girl you helped is my daughter, Lyanna Stark, and I am known as Rickard Stark. This man beside me is Maester Donovan!" Rickard explained, and as he introduced Maester Donovan, he placed a hand on the old Maester's left shoulder.

Without wasting time, Aquiles quickly dropped to one knee to show respect as soon as Rickard Stark affirmed his identity as a member of House Stark. "I thought he was Ned and the old man was Maester Luwin..." Aquiles mentally noted as he remained kneeling and silent. "But it seems that God sent me back before the events, long before the events, as Winterfell's lord is still Rickard Stark, Ned's father. This means Ned is still a child, as there wasn't much of an age gap between Lyanna and her three brothers."

Aquiles chose to kneel because Rickard Stark's personality was never described in the books, and because of that, he didn't know if the man was like Ned or had a bad character. Therefore, he chose to act as a mere peasant and knelt before Lord Stark to show respect and not offend the man in any way.

Rickard Stark crossed the space between them, his steps firm and decisive. He extended his calloused hands, gently gripping Aquiles' shoulder in a friendly manner, while his voice resonated with a friendly tone: "Rise! My house owes you a great debt!" Aquiles followed the command, rising from the ground.

"You are great... And you must also be a great warrior to dare to face a bear alone!" Rickard Stark praised, his words filled with genuine acknowledgment. Although Rickard was not present at the time of Aquiles' confrontation with the bear, when he asked his wife, she described the bear as enormous.

"Believe me, I was lucky that the bear decided to run away and let me live. Now that I think about it, I remember the bear hitting me with its claw in the stomach, and even biting part of my arm... How did you manage to heal me?" Aquiles' question, although genuine-sounding, had a hidden purpose, which was to make Rickard Stark and Maester Donovan believe that he had no idea how he was healed.

"In fact, it wasn't me who treated you. It was Maester Donovan!" Rickard Stark spoke honestly as he and Aquiles turned to Maester Donovan.

Aquiles had feigned a grateful look on his face as he looked at the old man, and he had feigned it so well that Maester Donovan couldn't discern the truth from the lies. Maester Donovan briefly considered taking credit, but his integrity prevailed, and he chose to share the truth without embellishment. "My intervention was limited; I did what was essential to stabilize the wound, however, I confess that your recovery is still a mystery to me." The old Maester exclaimed in a low and feeble voice as he approached Aquiles with slow and tired steps due to his advanced age. "The blood loss you suffered would have been fatal for most people. When you were brought to the castle, you were losing so much blood that I never imagined you would make it past the first night!"

As he approached Aquiles, his wrinkled face had an expression of curiosity, and Maester Donovan then requested: "Please, allow me to check the state of your wounds."

Aquiles nodded, demonstrating his cooperation by following Maester Donovan's instructions. When Aquiles took off his shirt, he saw the expressions of Maester Donovan and Rickard Stark become astonished for a moment, and heard Maester Donovan mutter in a disbelieving and confused tone: "How is this possible? There isn't even a mark or scar on your body!"

Aquiles remained silent, his expressions carefully controlled to conceal the truth. Maester Donovan bombarded Aquiles with dozens of questions, to which he responded by blending parts of the truth with lies. When Maester Donovan asked a question that Aquiles didn't want to answer, he conveniently feigned lapses of knowledge and claimed not to remember.

While Maester Donovan examined his body at the site of the injuries, Aquiles was pondering in his mind: "When exactly am I in the timeline? I need to find out soon, only then will I know exactly how much time I have left until Robert Baratheon's arrival in the North and the beginning of the unfolding events!"

"Lord Stark, honestly, I can't figure out how he was healed..." Maester Donovan spoke with a hesitant tone as he scratched his head lightly. "Perhaps the gods did indeed heed the pleas of your wife and daughter." Maester Donovan was a skeptical man; his profession as a Maester demanded it, but now a miracle had just occurred before his eyes; the man he thought would already be dead had completely healed in three days, and the terrible wounds he had suffered left no scars whatsoever.

"That's irrelevant; what matters is that he's recovered!" Rickard Stark responded with a calm and simple tone. After a brief pause and a tired sigh, he continued speaking: "Tell me your name."

"I am Aquiles, Lord Stark," Aquiles replied respectfully.

Rickard immediately noticed he wasn't a nobleman upon seeing Aquiles lacked a second name. "Aquiles is an uncommon name!" Rickard Stark remarked while observing Aquiles. "Do you have any relatives, someone who might be worried about your disappearance?" Rickard inquired, still with his sharp eyes fixed on Aquiles.

"My family has been dead for a long time, victims of the relentless cold!" Aquiles lied, painting a pained expression and lowering his head slightly. The expression he crafted, along with his words laden with sorrow, were skillfully projected.

With a serene nod of his head, Rickard Stark acknowledged him. His eyes seemed to carry a sympathetic understanding, as if he himself shared the pain of losing family members. "Night is approaching; use it to rest. Come find me in the training yard at dawn. I'll generously repay you for saving my daughter's life." And after leaving this instruction, Rickard Stark exited the room without waiting for a response.

"Please, sit on the bed. Let me examine you once more, perhaps this old man can learn something new today," Meistre Donovan requested, and Aquiles obeyed. Shortly after, Meistre Donovan began examining his body in the places where the bear had injured him.

As Meistre Donovan examined his arm and stomach, Aquiles' mind pondered, "I think the best way to figure out what time period I'm in is to find out Benjen Stark's or Ned Stark's age. If I recall correctly, Ned was 35 when Robert Baratheon came to the North, and Benjen, who is 4 years younger, was 31 at the time. If I can find out their age at this time, I'll know how much time is left before the events begin!"

Meistre Donovan spent about 50 minutes examining Aquiles' body in an attempt to discover something, but he was unsuccessful, leaving him with no choice but to give up. After giving up, Meistre Donovan also left the room.

...

[POV BENJEN STARK]

On the morning of the next day, the sky was filled with gray clouds, and the morning sun was already emerging on the horizon. Young Benjen and Ned were beginning their daily archery training, both standing side by side in the castle courtyard, conversing as they pulled and released the bowstring.

"He woke up!" Benjen proclaimed, his small fingers struggling to stretch the bowstring, causing his biceps muscles to tremble as he pulled the string. His focus fixed on the target, and he released the arrow. The arrow was freed from the string, cutting through the cold air and then falling to the ground a few meters from the target. Seeing his arrow hit the ground, Benjen exclaimed with slight disappointment, "My arrows never reach, damn it."

Benjen Stark was a 4-year-old boy, gifted with black, straight hair that fell like shadows over his forehead. His eyes, dark as night, were expressive and determined, much like Rickard Stark's. His skin was white with a slight rosy blush on his cheeks due to the cold, his slender and agile body a result of his archery training. He wore voluminous white clothes made of wool and a cloak of white animal fur.