2 Greetings & Goodbyes

ONE WEEK LATER…

Torrhen stood with his hands clasped together in front of him, standing between Robb and Sansa as visitors poured through the castle gates, it was a procession of three hundred strong if the scouts numbers were correct, consisting of the lowest of servants, to the highest of knights in service to the King.

He watched as one of the kingsguard removed their helmets, revealing his curled hair of beaten gold, shining in the sunlight. 

"That's Jaime Lannister. The Queen's twin brother." he heard one of his siblings say,

Torrhen heard many stories about the man who shoved their blade into the mad king's back, the one he swore to defend. His father doesn't speak of it much, but he told them that he found the kingsguard sitting upon the Iron Throne, looking down at his king as he slowly died. 

He ended a dynasty of three hundred years, earning the title of 'Kingslayer'. Torrhen had no love for the southerners, they lacked honour and respect, even finding their gods repulsive, and ignored the septa whenever she tried to turn them to their faith.

"Where's Arya?" his mother asked, looking around frantically, before her eyes set upon him, though with a simple shrug, her attention soon turned to his younger sister, Sansa "Sansa, where's your sister?" 

Arya came rushing through the crowd with a guards helmet on her head, causing Torrhen to have a light smirk on his lips.

"There she is, mother." Torrhen said, nudging his head towards her.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey what are you doing with that on?" his father stopped Arya in her tracks, and took the helmet from her and handed it to Ser Rodrik, who was standing behind them along with the others in service to House Stark, and his bastard brother, Jon.

Torrhen patted her on the shoulder as she passed him, and they each shared a grin. Arya then pushed herself between Bran and Sansa.

"Move!" she ordered, shoving Bran down the line. 

There was a huge man at the head of the column, flanked by two knights dressed in their snow-white cloaks. He who called himself King was considerably fatter than Torrhen had expected, he thought he was going to see the warrior king that took down a dynasty beside his father, and got justice for what the dragon did to his grandfather and uncle.

More poured through the gates after the king, and that was when Torrhen laid his eyes upon the crown prince, there was certain arrogance in the way he held himself, as if the entire courtyard was looking at him alone.

"Gods, he looks like a great royal prick." he muttered.

"Will you shut up?!" Sansa scolded him for insulting the crown prince, and he scoffed as he noticed the small smiles they shared with each other.

As the king dismounted from his horse, the entirety of the courtyard knelt. Torrhen remained standing for a short moment, though received a stern look from his father which caused him to reluctantly kneel.

The king made his way over to them, and after a short moment, he gestured for everyone to rise as he stood in front of his father "Ned! Ah, it's good to see that frozen face of yours." the king roared, then looking down at his father, his face getting serious "You've got fat!" 

Torrhen chuckled, the king didn't exactly look slim.

His father looked down toward's the King's stomach, raising his brow and soon the courtyard was booming with laughter from the king and the two embraced one another "Oh, you've not changed at all! Nine whole years, Ned, where have you been? Why haven't I seen you?" the king asked.

"Guarding the North for you, Your Grace." his father responded, he hadn't seen that smile on his face often but he could see that he had a lot of affection for the King "Winterfell is yours."

"Where's the imp?" Arya flew her head  back behind Sansa as she looked over to Torrhen. "He is said to be even smaller than me." she giggled.

"Will you both just shut up!" Sansa once again scolded them, making each of them chuckle, though they soon regained their posture as the King made his way down the line of children.

"Who have we here, hm?" the King asked "You must be Robb" he stated, shaking the hand of Torrhen's older brother.

before coming in front of Torrhen "Gods! Look at you, perhaps we should trade positions, that is the look for a King if I have seen one." he chuckled, moving across to Sansa "My, you're a pretty one, take after your mother when she was young, eh?" the King moved down another step "And you are?"

"Arya." she replied, and as soon as he gave her the look over, he travelled down the line to Bran.

"Eh Lad, show us your muscles." the king said, and Bran pulled his arm up and flexed it, causing a laugh from the man "Hah, you'll be a soldier!"

Soon enough, the others were dismounting as well, with the grooms coming forward for their mounts, the Queen, Cersei Lannister, entered on foot with her younger children, she had ridden in a huge double-decked carriage of oiled oak and gilded metal that were being pulled by forty heavy draft horses, too wide to pass through Winterfell's gates.

Lord Stark knelt back down into the snow and kissed the ring upon her finger, while the King embraced Lady Stark as if she was a long-lost sister.

"My Queen." Lord Stark said, rising back upon his feet.

Torrhen leaned forth towards Robb's ear, muttering a few words "These southerners look too pretty, you can mistake the crown prince for a woman."

He felt a strong nudge into his ribcage, and he turned his head towards Sansa, who placed her finger at her lips, she had been bratty the entire time she heard the King was coming to Winterfell, already calling the crown prince the love of her life.

Soon the formalities of greeting had been completed "Take me down to your crypt, Ned, I would pay my respect." the king demanded, he had previously been betrothed to their aunt, Lyanna Stark, though father rarely talks about her or how Winterfell was before he was called to War.

"Come on, Rickon." Torrhen said, moving out of the line and picking up his youngest brother who was standing beside their mother "Let us go and see where Shaggydog has ended up!" he poked Rickon in his stomach, making the boy giggle.

"Do not let him out of your sight, Torrhen." his mother yelled as they got further away.

Later that night, there was a great feast held for the procession, men filled the great hall,and the castle had never been more lively. Torrhen disappeared an hour into the night to put Rickon to sleep, allowing his mother to enjoy the festivities, it was not like anyone would notice him missing, was his thought.

"Tell him the story of the Rat King, nan." Torrhen asked, the old frail had been seated on an old chair knitting away as Rickon wrapped up next to his elder brother as he laid beside him "He'll love it." both Shaggydog and Magnar were laid out at the end of the bed.

"Oh, I don't think it is such a tale for a young lad." Old Nan shook her head.

"Very well then." Old Nan was a elderly woman that had been in service to House Stark before even Torrhen was born, and had even watch his father be raised when he was still young and filled with the wonders of youth, though she had retired for a while, she would stay awake and tell tales to each of the stark children.

"It is said that a very long time ago, there was a King in the North who paid the visit to the Nightfort, and within those four cold darkened walls, now during a feast, the King greatly offended a cook of the keep, saying that he had seen better from the lowest of taverns." Old Nan coughed "In response to this great offence, the cook served up a pie the day afterwards, and what great pie it was, the king was thankful and even asked for a second helping."

"This is boring." Rickon said, looking up at Torrhen "Can you tell me a story?"

"Just wait, little one, it is about to get very interesting, is that not right, Nan?" Torrhen responded.

"Torrhen is right, young pup, you see the pie was not made of normal ingredients, the cook had carved up the King's son and heir and baked his flesh and meat into the very pie the king had loved." Torrhen spotted the shock and disgust on Rickon's face.

"You see, the gods took great offence with his actions." Torrhen would continue on from Old Nan "and they cursed the cook by turning him into a fat, white rat which could only live if it fed on its own young, now you may think the gods were angry that he killed the heir, but they were not, for a man has the right to vengeance." 

Torrhen  shook his head, staring down at his brother. "They could not forgive the fact that the cook killed a guest beneath his roof..no no, that is something gods take seriously above all else, and he has been known since then as the Rat Cook."

"What happened to the rat?" Rickon asked.

"No one knows, it is said that he is condemned to run the halls of the Nightfort for all eternity, even long after it has become an abandoned ruin." Torrhen slipped out of the bed, wrapping Rickon up in the furs "Old Nan will tell you of another tale, if you promise to close your eyes and sleep.."

"I promise." Rickon whispered "Will you return?"

"I will only be in the Great Hall, little man." Torrhen smiled "I will return shortly, though you will be asleep when I do, Magnar will remain here with you also." he ran his hand through the boy's hair before making his way back down to the feast.

The Great Hall was hazy with smoke and heavy with the smell of roasted meat and fresh-baked bread when he returned, ballards were being played that the men were all cheering too, you could hardly hear a soul above the roar of the fire, the clangour of metal plates and cups, joined with the low mutter of a hundred drunken conversations.

He slithered his way back down next to Robb and Theon, who was seated beneath the raised platform where his father and mother hosted the King and Queen.

"Little Rickon is finally asleep I take it." Robb asked, and Torrhen made a simple nod in response, grabbing hold of a flask and filling his mug with its contents. "Well it is good you are now back, you will be pleased to know the crown prince is a right royal prick."

"I'd expect nothing less of a southerner, brother." Torrhen chuckled, taking a swig from his mug "Put a sword in Bran's hand and he could beat the prick."

"I wouldn't be so sure." Theon included himself "I heard from some of the squires that our crown prince gets trained personally by Ser Barristan the Bold and the Kingslayer."

"Hah! That is hogwash." Torrhen looked across the table to the crown prince, pretentiously sipping on his wine as his eyes were gazing at Sansa, the prince was soft and pretty, and looked like he had not once held a sword in his life "I would bet on Bran defeating him, that one right there is a weakling."

Sansa had been obsessed with the weakling, they had been staring longingly at one another since before he even entered the great hall, his sister was quick to fancy any boy who would give her even a slight bit of attention, and constantly told everyone of the blonde haired stag that would fulfil her fantasies and make her a princess.

"Where is Jon?"  he wondered, looking at Robb as he noticed Jon was not sitting at the table, nor was he among the crowds of men that were also celebrating.

"Your mother thought it might insult the royal family to see the Bastard of Winterfell sat eating and drinking amongst them." Theon answered, with a smirk upon face that was quick to agitate Torrhen.

"Whatever." he responded, taking another sip at his wine "Where is he?"

"I saw him take leave from the hall." Robb revealed "I suspect you will find him in the courtyard, though you should be here, it may be a while before we have our next feast, this will no doubt set our coffers back a few hundred gold."

"This is ridiculous! Our brother is made to feel like an outcast in his own home." Torrhen spat, he cared not for his brother position as a bastard, and loved him no less than Robb "These southerners come up here and act as if they can command us, all because a fat oaf wears a crown, I'll be damned, the north belongs to us."

"Your brother is a bastard, Stark." Theon spoke, causing a glare shot his way by Torrhen "And while you may not see him as such, that does not make it a lie, his very existence brings dishonour to your father's name"

"Stop speaking of something you have no understanding of, squid." Torrhen barked, rising from his chair.

He never had any love for Theon, he heard the stories of when reavers from the Iron Islands raided their western coast during the Greyjoy Rebellion raping and murdering their subjects, destroying villages.

"Theon meant no harm." Robb defended him, and Torrhen stepped back and bit his lip, clenching his fists. "He was making an observation, that is all. And you should learn to not speak ill of the King and his family, they could have your head for spouting as such."

"I sometimes wonder whose side you are on, brother?" Torrhen set his mug down, wiping his lips and setting his gaze on Theon "You may be our father's ward, but never forget you are a hostage, all the same, a tool to ensure your own father does not step out of line." he spat.

"Can I speak with you in private, brother?" Robb looked angry, rising from the table and crossing his arms.

"Fine.."  

Robb and Torrhen made their way through the Great Hall and out into the courtyard, where his elder brother gripped tightly onto his arm "I thought we went through this, why are you still trying to start an argument? Theon did not deserve that outrage."

"You would have him speak ill of our brother, or our father's honour?" Torrhen pulled his arm away, pushing Robb backwards "I will not understand how you could be friends with him, he is the enemy, and always will be."

"His father was the enemy." Robb pushed back "Theon is the heir to Pyke, and could one day be Lord Paramount of the Iron Islands, my friendship could bring peace between our two houses, father knows this."

"Peace?" Torrhen chuckled in disbelief "There will never be peace with the Iron Islands, brother, and you are foolish to think so, they are nothing but reavers and thieves."

"You read too much, and you let it control your opinions on people." Robb analysed "Perhaps if you spoke with Theon without attacking him or calling him a 'squid' you will see why I like him, he is not his father, he has been raised here almost as long as he was raised in the Iron Islands."

"My opinions are my own." Torrhen responded.

"Are they? You hate the southerners, you hate the Islanders, and yet you have hardly spoken to one of them. Perhaps Maester Luwin should give you a lesson in making allies instead of enemies, what if the King had heard what you said tonight?"

"He didn't."

"But what if he did?" Robb insisted

"I don't know, perhaps he would have had me flogged, or a good ol' beating from his Kingsguard." Torrhen rolled his eyes, turning away from Robb "Are we done?"

"Take what I have said and make peace with Theon." Robb placed a hand upon Torrhen's shoulder "And c0ntrol that damn anger of yours, I'd hate to have to put you on your arse." Robb chuckled.

"Fine, if that is what you want, I will speak with him tomorrow." he promised.

"Now, let us go in and sneak a few more ales before father or mother decides we had enough for the night." 

A fortnight had passed since the southerners had arrived in Winterfell and already Torrhen felt they were overstaying their welcome, especially the crown prince, Joffrey.

The prick took midday strolls around the castle with Sansa, claiming to be the greatest swordsman than anyone in these walls, though refused to prove this masterful skill when questioned on it, always finding a ridiculous excuse to hide his shame.

There was a spar between him and Robb, though nothing suggested he had been trained by the finest knights in the realm as he loved to claim, at most, he was shown a few tricks by a guardsman.

An arrow rippled through the air and pierced the bullseye of the target. Torrhen regained his posture, and drew another arrow from his quiver, then pulled the bow string backwards, taking a deep breath, and as he took the shot, there was a loud bellow from the balcony above, causing him to miss the target.

He turned and looked up at the balcony, and there he was, Prince Joffrey with Sansa standing right beside him, her arm wrapped around his as expected.

"I was trying to focus, you fool!" he yelled, his voice boomed across the courtyard. 

"You'd be mindful of how you speak to me, Stark." Joffrey appeared insulted to have even been called up on his actions, and made his way down the steps towards him, and Torrhen's mind was racing with how he wanted so badly to knock the teeth out of the brat "I am your prince, or had you forgotten?"

"What are you going to do about it, Stag? There is no one around to protect you." Torrhen widened his arms and gazed around the empty courtyard, taking a step closer towards the weakling, watching the prince back off from him was satisfying to see, and formed a grin on his lips "Do I scare you? It is an insult that such a cowering weakling is marrying my sister.. What a pathetic excuse of a prince, you are."

"Torrhen, stop it…" Sansa pleaded.

"You could end all my doubts, let us duel against each other with all eyes to see - your mother, your little siblings, the Kingsguard." Torrhen challenged "Let them watch me humiliate you." 

He ignored the pleas from his sister, and he got close up to the prince once again and barked, causing him to stumble and fall backwards.

Watching the Prince fall on his arse and get all muddied was the highlight of Torrhen's day "I do not play these silly games, I am a prince, not some dirty soldier." he brushed down his legs and his backside, when Sansa went to touch him, he was less than pleased "Don't touch me!"he said bitterly,  before storming off.

"Why must you ruin everything?!" Sansa screamed so loud that it could burst his eardrums, no doubt everyone in the castle heard the commotion "I hate you!" she spun around and chased after Joffery, yelling his name and apologising for something that did not involve her.

"Pathetic.." he sighed, turning back towards the target, removing another arrow from his quiver and positioning it, before pulling back on the bowstring and releasing, he managed to hit the target just slightly above the bullseye.

After a while, his attention was drawn to the girl signalling him over towards the stables, throwing rocks his way. He followed after her, placing his bow down against the wall. His father went out on a hunt with the king and they travelled with a large party, so the stables were empty save for a few horses.

"Your sister was quite upset." the girl said, as she stood in one of the empty shelters. Jeyne was the daughter of their steward, Vayon Poole. She was a year younger than himself, and regarded as one of the prettiest girls in Winterfell. "What did you do?" she smirked.

"It doesn't take much to displease Sansa." Torrhen replied, shutting the wooden gate behind them, then leaning against the wall "I teased the crown prince, and he had a fall."

There was a time when he didn't look twice at Jeyne, though they had grown close since he began learning from her father. She proved to be a great listener when he needed to air out his frustrations, and good company.

"Not enjoying our southern guests then?" Torrhen shook his head to her question, and she leaned against the wall beside him, her gaze never faltering from his.

"I'd rather not think about them right now." he finally replied "It isn't often I get to speak with you now that they are here, you're always stuck to Sansa."

Torrhen and Jeyne decided to keep their little meet-ups secret to everyone, it would only cause rumours to spread about the both of them, and while she could be annoying and unbearable, Torrhen didn't want to hurt Sansa.

"Am I hearing that you missed me?" Jeyne smirked.

Torrhen couldn't help his feeling towards her, no matter how much he tried to pretend they didn't exist. He ran his hand past her red cheeks, and leaned forward into a warm kiss, though was disappointed as she pulled away.

"My father spoke to Lord Stark today." she said, placing a hand on his chest.

"And?" Torrhen grunted.

"He is travelling south to Kings Landing with Lord Stark." Jeyne revealed "As his daughter and a friend of Sansa, I am forced to go with them."

Torrhen turned away, the circumstance of his father becoming the hand appeared to annoy him each day as more news was told to him, not only was both his sisters and his brother, Bran, leaving them for Kings Landing, but now another he had a connection with.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a sigh before turning back around.

"I can ask my father to take me with him, my mother isn't too pleased with Bran going, believing him to be too young." He thought the idea was a good one, despite his dislike for southerners and their culture.

"I could not ask you to do that, Torrhen, you have spoken often of your thoughts about these people." her head shook in disapproval. "And what if we were to be discovered? It would affect both our standing, and Sansa would be devastated."

"I don't want to lose you." he said.

"I am sure once Lord Stark is situated my father will return here to continue as Steward, and I can come home." she replied.

"Much could happen in that time, Jeyne." Torrhen responded "This saddens me, there are not many I enjoy the company of so much." he ran his hand through her curls as he stepped closer once more.

"Now…I say we speak no more of Sansa or on this,  and focus solely on eachother." his hands rested comfortably against her waist "To enjoy the little time we have left."

Torrhen found out later about Jon's plan to travel north with Uncle Benjen and take the black. 

Their connection was always firmer than the relationship that Torrhen shared with Robb, perhaps it was that he never had to compete with Jon for recognition from their father, or that besides Arya, he was the other one to have the distinctive stark features that their other siblings lacked.

He knew the night's watch was an honourable calling, and even the lowest of men had a chance to rise high in their ranks, but the wall was said to be a cold and dark place, and there were stories that the ghosts of their fallen brothers haunted the castles at night.

The order had dwindled much since its conception, as the years since the Long Night only grew, people began to doubt it ever happened, that beyond the wall only consisted of Wildlings, and not the creatures such as Giants, Ice Spiders, or the White Walkers, they had turned into stories to frighten little children.

Torrhen often read the pleas from their Lord Commander, Jeor Mormont, to his father asking for him to send more men so that they may man the other castles that had since been abandoned one by one as their numbers depleted, with only three currently occupied.

He found Jon in the Godswood, three acres of untouched forest where one could get away from the noise of Winterfell that was raised around it, it had trees of every kind found in the North, sentinel trees armoured with grey-green needles, mighty oaks, Ironwood that was older than the realm itself.

Out of respect, Torrhen stood in silence as Jon finished praying to the Old Gods, waiting until he rose back up to his feet, and stepped towards the tree, placing his hand on it's face, mumbling something under his breath.

"Was father speaking the truth? You are to take the black?" Torrhen asked, his hands gripped tightly together as he looked at Jon, hoping that it had been a mistake on his father's behalf.

"Aye, I am to take the black and swear their oath…Lord Tyrion wishes to see the wall, so we shall be leaving when the King departs." Jon said "there is nothing for me here, Torrhen, with Lord Stark going south and Robb serving as Lord of Winterfell, I need to find my place, to be known as more than just the Bastard of Winterfell."

"You may never see us again, what if you were to serve with one of our bannermen? Like the Manderly's or even the Umber's, as a son of Ned Stark you  would be more than welcomed there, bastard or not." 

"Uncle Benjen comes to Winterfell often, there is nothing to say that I could not also, so long as I have a reason, there is great honour to have with the Watch, to defend the realm from what lies beyond." Jon replied.

"Oh I bet there is, what better place than one swarming with thieves and murderers who don't want their heads on spikes." Torrhen gave Jon a measured look "I… is it my mother? Is she the reason you are truly leaving? I hear how she speaks of you, I am not blind nor deaf."

"I have grown used to your mother's words, no…that is not the reason I am leaving." Jon responded "Look at Uncle Benjen, he is honourable and brave, he journeys beyond the wall, venturing far and wide, that is what the night's watch are, a brotherhood of brave men willing to sacrifice their lives for the betterment of the realm, it matters not of their previous role in life."

"And if you come to regret this choice? This is not an oath where you can change your mind when things don't turn out how you expect." Torrhen remarked.

Torrhen tried his damndest to convince Jon to remain in Winterfell, he felt his family slipping away, Father, Sansa, Arya, Bran, and now Jon, what will Winterfell be without the pack? These thoughts clouded his mind.

"Then I shall have to live with it." Jon concluded "My mind will not waiver, Torrhen, enough with trying to convince me."

He knew when Jon had something on his mind, he rarely strayed from that path, though he had hoped that another suggestion would have convinced him to change course.

"Fine…I will leave you in peace." he nodded his head, biting his lip before he would say something he would regret, he made his way down the cracked-stone footpath and back through the arched stone door.

There was a loud ruckus coming from the yard near to the broken tower, when Torrhen reached there, many of the guards and servants were surrounding someone.

 "Go and get Lord Stark and Maester Luwin immediately!" Ser Rodrik had ordered.

Torrhen pushed himself through to see what had happened and his heart almost stopped when he saw Bran.

He dropped down on his knees next to Rodrik to inspect his younger brother. 

"All of you, back away now!" Rodrik yelled, though the noise ringed through his ears as his sole focus remained on Bran, he didn't want to touch him but he'll never forget how his legs were bent in a way that would make anyone sick, flesh had been torn from his arms, though he was still alive, a weak brush of air leaving his mouth.

"Torrhen!" Ser Rodrik Cassel brought him back into the world, tears rolled down his face with each look to his younger brother, he had never fallen once, Torrhen looked up at the broken tower, not accepting what had taken place "Assist in finding the Maester." he placed a firm hand on his shoulder "This is no sight for a boy." 

Torrhen had difficulty finding the words to respond back to Rodrik, so he rose back up to his feet and followed his command, rushing to find the Maester within his turret near to the entrance of Winterfell.

Another few days passed, and Torrhen remained close to Bran, remaining silent as he looked at the boy. He debated in his own mind if it was his fault, whether he could have him from falling, all those times he had bet Bran to climb that same tower to see how high he could get. 

He wanted to travel back to those moments and stay quiet, and the boy he once thought could climb the highest of towers was fighting for his life because of Torrhen. 

Magnar's head was dug into the bed's furs, playing with a bone that was meant for the hounds, with the other direwolf pups howling outside.

"This is my fault." Torrhen broke his silence, his eyes falling on his mother who sat at Bran's bedside, tending to him and making sure he was kept cool, but also warm at the same time "He'd never have been up on that tower if I hadn't told him to climb so many times." 

Torrhen stepped towards the bed and knelt down, grabbing hold of the boy's hand and holding it to his lips as a single tear fell from his eye.

"Yes, it is your fault." his mother said.

His mother was always sweet and kind, and had much love for her children. However, there was a difference in her when she said those words to him, they were emotionless and flat, she wasn't the caring mother that had watched over him whenever he had fallen ill, she was bitter, he knew not whether she had meant to speak those words to him but they came out regardless.

Her words did nothing to rid Torrhen of the guilt that he was feeling, it only made him feel more sorry than he was before, Jon arrived shortly thereafter, Torrhen turned his attention to him as he remained at the door, as if something was holding him back from entering. 

"I've..uhm..I've come to say goodbye." Jon said hesitantly as he looked to Torrhen "We will be departing soon, and I thought i'd come see Bran."

Torrhen's attention moved towards his mother as she looked to Jon, the hatred on her face was showing "You've said it, now go away."

He had half expected Jon to leave, however he only took a step forward, bringing himself further into the room "Please." he urged Torrhen's mother.

"Mother, he just wants to say goodbye." Torrhen's words were faint and soft-spoken, he rose up from the floor and allowed Jon to pass, watching as he looked down on Bran, making sure to keep a distance between himself and Catelyn.

"Bran." he said, his voice like a whisper "I'm sorry I didn't come before, I was afraid." he revealed, looking up at Torrhen's mother before turning to himself " Torrhen could see it had great effect on him, as the tears rolled down his face, he was never one to show emotion in front of anyone "Don't die, Bran, Please. We're all waiting for you to finally awake, Me, Robb, Torrhen, and the girls..even little Rickon, everyone.."

"He'll wake, brother…the old gods watch over him at this very moment, working to bring him back to us." Torrhen spoke, and a howl came from outside the window from the direwolf Bran had yet to name.

"I have to go now." Jon said. "Uncle Benjen is waiting for me, I'm to go north to the Wall." there was hesitation in his brother's voice, and he had hoped Jon was perhaps thinking of not going, especially with Bran in his current condition, Jon wiped his face and leaned over Bran, kissing him lightly on the lips.

"I had prayed that he would remain here." Lady Stark said dully "He was my special boy, I went to the sept and prayed that Ned would change his mind and leave him here with me, and my prayers were answered." 

There was an awkward silence between the three as the tears rolled down his mother's face.

"It wasn't your fault." Jon said.

"I need none of your absolution, Bastard." Torrhen's mother could be a poisonous woman to Jon, but that was above what Torrhen could handle, he had enough of the rude looks and slurs that had gone Jon's way simply because of his birth, and grieving does not excuse her "It should have been you."

"Mother, that's quite enough!" Torrhen intervened "I understand that you worry for Bran, we all do!" he shouted "enough with the bitter comments that make you sound rotten to the core."

"It's alright, Torrhen." Jon commented "Goodbye, Bran." Those were his final words, before he made his way from the bedchamber, and Torrhen looked at his mother with disgust before following after him.

"Jon!" he called out as they travelled the corridors.

"I said I am fine, Torrhen." he stopped in his tracks, but refused to turn to face him, Torrhen stepped in front of him and tears continued to roll down his face, and all he could do was place a hand upon Jon's shoulder "Please don't try and convince me again.."

"I understand my mother can be a bitter woman, Jon…but please, I need you here, not hundreds of miles away." 

"And what would you have me do? I am not even allowed to see my own brother in her presence." Jon was angry, more than usual when it involved his mother.

""What if I were to speak with her along with Robb, once Father has gone she will have no choice but to listen to us." he suggested.

"Father has spoken with her a thousand times before, what makes you think you will have any effect on how she treats me?" Jon shook his head "I am done with trying to get her to even stand my presence, I want to go with Uncle Benjen."

"It will be difficult in Winterfell without you." Torrhen admitted, shrugging his shoulders "Who will I have? Me and Robb grow distant with each passing day, I'll have to deal with that pathetic excuse of a squid, who will no doubt trouble me now that you'll be gone."

"You will see that this is the right choice, in a few years both you and Robb would have married no doubt, and you will hardly have time for the infamous Bastard of Winterfell." Jon stated "I need to leave, or I may find myself never going."

"Visit as often as you can." Torrhen said, finally admitting defeat after the days of attempting to convince him, bringing him into a long embrace "When Bran wakes, I will have Maester Luwin send a raven to Castle Black for you."

Jon smacked his hand against Torrhen's chest "Come on then, you will want to say farewell to Father and our sisters before they set off." 

There was so much noise out in the courtyard as wagons were being loaded, men were shouting orders to the servants, and horses were being harnessed and saddled, being led from the stables, a light snow had begun to fall over the last couple of days, and all the southerners were eager to be off before it became heavy.

Robb was shouting commands as well, he was taking to his new role as Lord of Winterfell before their father had even set off from the castle and Torrhen was pleased to see he was taking it seriously.

"There you both are!" Robb shouted "It is good to see you finally out and about, Torrhen." as he came closer, Robb jokingly waved his hand in front of his nose "Best you ask the servants to pour you a hot bath."

"Hah! Forever the jester, brother." Torrhen chuckled.

"Uncle Benjen has been looking for you, Jon." Robb said "He had wanted to be gone ahead of the Royal Party, he doesn't like the noise."

"I know." Jon told Robb, before looking around "Leaving appears to be harder than I thought."

"For me too." Robb said, he had snow in his hair, melting from the heat of his body "I am judging by this one's appearance, have you seen Bran?"

"Aye." Jon nodded.

"He's not going to die, the boy is too strong." Robb said "I know it."

"It would appear both you and Torrhen have that faith then, besides, you Starks are hard to kill." Jon agreed.

"You have that right." Torrhen added.

"And our mother?.." Robb questioned, even he could see Jon was not dealing well with their mother.

"She was…very kind." Jon told him, and Torrhen looked at him with confusion, but he received a look which was just asking him to forget about it.

"Well, the next time we see you, you'll be all in black." Robb smiled.

"It was always my color." Jon chuckled lightly.

"Farewell, Snow."

"And you, Stark." Torrhen and Robb both hugged their bastard brother tightly, with Torrhen finally accepting that he'd be unable to convince him to not make this journey.

"If you ever need anything, Jon, we're only a raven away." Torrhen planted his hand on Jon's horse as he mounted him.

"I know." Jon said.

They said their farewells to both his sisters, though Sansa refused to even look at him, and father was also ready to depart, beckoning Torrhen over to him.

"You know your duty?" Eddard said as he pulled on his gloves, signalling for Jory to go ahead of him. 

"Aye, father." Torrhen nodded.

"Robb will be distracted with his newfound duties, and will look to you to watch over the family. Take care of your little brothers, and listen to everything he asks of you." his father placed a hand on his shoulder "Try not to get in trouble, Rodrik will be keeping a good eye on you."

"Come on, Ned!" King Robert yelled "You're holding the party up!"

"Until next we meet, son." Ned placed his gloved hand on Torrhen's cheek before turning and mounting his horse, and they set off out of Winterfell, and for the first time in a month, the castle was quiet.