Sorry for the long wait between chapters. My beta was busy and I had a dilemma about where to take the story next, which made me stall with this chapter, and then the holidays hit and I lost all time to work on editing this between the demands of two young children.

Many thanks as always to DKNC for betaing this chapter for me and for all of you for waiting so patiently for this next chapter.

Ned

A strangled scream was all Ned managed as the flames licked around his legs, causing pain to shoot up his left leg. Outside the heat and haze, Ned could see Benjen staring at him mournfully, and all he could think was that he had failed and now he would never see his family again.

Ned jolted awake sweating under the pile of bear furs that covered him. It was a dream, just a dream, he told himself, but as he gazed blankly at the grey stone walls, he struggled to remember where he was for a brief moment before it all flooded back.

He had made it back to Winterfell and his family. He had not perished beyond the Wall.

Shoving the furs off his overheated body, Ned let the cool air wash over him, enjoying the sensation as he shivered. Was it only three weeks ago that he had thought he would never be warm again? Oh how he had longed for Catelyn's over warm chambers then, and her arms.

Putting his head in his hands as he sat on the edge of the bed, Ned thanked the gods for bringing him home from the hell that lurked north of the Wall. It was not without a cost though, and he thought about the men who would never return to Winterfell, their bodies having been burnt in the snows of the Haunted Forest.

Benjen, too, had lost over half his men although they had both made it back alive, the surprise clear on Lord Commander Mormont's face as they had traipsed through the tunnel that ran under the Wall, grateful to have its immense height and girth between them and the unnatural monsters that had stalked them on the other side.

The chamber door swung open, Catelyn humming softly to herself as she entered, a steaming bowl in her hands and linen clothes hanging over her left arm. The air of the room was immediately infused with the comforting smell of camomile and lavender.

He had vague memories of his arrival at Winterfell, of the noise and bustle of the men as they entered through the smaller North Gate, keen to get behind the walls of the immense castle as if the Others were behind them still. He had waited until every single one of his remaining men had made it through the gate before entering himself, where he had almost collapsed into the arms of a vaguely familiar man.

But it was the joy he'd felt at laying eyes on Catelyn that remained with him. In his last memory of his wife, she had been catatonic with grief, refusing to move from Bran's bedside and angry with him for thinking of leaving for the Wall at that moment when their son needed him. It had torn at Ned's heart to leave, but Benjen had needed to return to the Night's Watch, and it was Ned's duty as Warden of the North to seek out the truth behind the rumours of the white walkers' return. It had been a good thing, too, that he had gone to the Wall, otherwise Benjen and all of his men would have been lost on that ranging.

Ned shook his head as if to banish the very thought of his only remaining brother perishing in such a manner. The movement drew his wife's attention.

Memories of dazed and confused awakenings flooded into Ned's mind. Catelyn had been by his side, he knew that much. Her tears and laughter had remained with him, even as he'd flitted in and out of consciousness, mouthing her name as she had flung her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. He had known that he was home then as he'd breathed in the sweet smell of her hair and tried to lift an arm to stroke down its length.

"Ned!" Catelyn exclaimed, hurrying to put the bowl down, before she turned her focus to him. She put her hands on his shoulder and gently pushed him back against the pillows. "You should not be sitting up, my love, you need to rest."

"I was too hot," he protested as she began to pile the furs back over him, and she smiled at that. Her smile did more to banish the remnants of his evil dream and worse memories, and he allowed himself to enjoy the simple pleasure of looking at her. He wasn't entirely certain how long he'd lain here, but he knew she had been here throughout most of it and that he had been glad of it.

"No doubt you were," she said, relenting and keeping just the one fur over him. "However, you do need to keep that leg elevated, Maester Luwin's orders."

He swallowed back his objection as she propped a pillow under his leg. At times over the last two turns of the moon, he had doubted if he would ever experience Catelyn fussing over him again. As she hovered over him now, though, he noted the little lines of worry and exhaustion on his wife's face in spite of her obvious relief at seeing him fully awake.

"I promise to be perfectly still, if you would come and sit next to me, Cat," he said, needing to hold her in his arms and stroke his hand down her hair, needing to assure both of them that all was well now.

Catelyn stopped her bustling about and smiled softly at that, crawling up onto the bed and lying down into his open arms. "Oh Ned!" she said as she buried her head into his chest.

"Bran?" he asked.

She hesitated, keeping her face pressed tightly against him.

"I need to hear it, Cat," he encouraged her softly. "You must tell me."

"He is awake and he will be fine, but he will never walk again, Ned. Our baby boy will never run or climb or jump again," Catelyn said thickly.

Ned's hand stopped stroking Catelyn's braid as he digested the news. Bran, who had wanted nothing more than to be a knight, would never walk again. His head reeled from the information. He found the tears springing to his eyes, and he swallowed down the sobs that coated his throat. "Did he say how he came to fall?"

Catelyn sat up, any happiness that had previously rested in her face at his return had gone. "It was not an accident, Ned," she said seriously. "He swears he did not fall, and I think he was pushed."

A shiver passed down his spine at his lady's words. "Pushed?"

Catelyn nodded. "And that is not all," she said, turning her hand palms up and showing him the angry red scars that puckered her smooth skin.

"Cat?" he asked, grabbing her hand and caressing it with his fingers. "What happened?"

"A catspaw was hiding out in Winterfell, Ned. He set the library tower on fire and whilst Robb was directing the men to put it out, came to Bran's room. It was only because I was there that Bran did not have his throat slit. I put my hands around the blade to hinder him. They hired an assassin, Ned!" Catelyn said, the tears rolling freely down her face.

Ned froze, struggling to comprehend all that Catelyn had told him. A catspaw had been inside Winterfell, inside his castle, and with the intention to murder his son? Red hot rage consumed him at the very thought. The only reason why this thug had not succeeded was because of Catelyn, because her hands had stopped him from carrying out his act and now bore the scars. He should have been here, and it should have been his hands that had been maimed to save their son, not his lady wife's.

"And I left you! I went off into the wilderness beyond the Wall and left you to face this!" he said, anger colouring his tone. He swung his legs off the bed and went to stand, needing the physical outlet that pacing around the bedchamber would bring. However, as he rose, his leg buckled under the strain and he let out a cry of pain, falling back onto the bed, both hands clutching at his knee.

Sitting on her knees, Catelyn cradled his face in both her hands. "You could not have known, my love. Neither of us could have known."

Hating himself despite her words, Ned struggled to move past his anger, at the very real sense of failure he felt in not being there to protect his family. "I failed you, Cat," he said, pain causing his voice to break.

Pushing him back down, she slid off the bed and tenderly swung each leg back up onto the bed, propping the pillows once more under his wounded knee. She sat to his side, his hand grasped firmly between hers, "Hush now, Ned, you could not have known, and despite my anger at the time, you are warden of the North, and you needed to go with Benjen."

Breathing deeply, Ned focused on the warm hold Catelyn's hand had on his and not on the puckered ridge of scar tissue he could feel that formed its way down her palm. His lady was right. She was nearly always right. He could not have known; nor could he ignore the reports from the North, but the guilt of leaving her to deal with this did not go away.

"Where is the scum?" he asked, desperate for a way in which he could prove of use. "Has he been interrogated?"

"He's dead. Bran's wolf came and ripped out his throat out," she said before laughing shakily. "I have never been as glad as I was at that moment for those wolves."

"The wolf came?" Ned asked, puzzled.

Nodding her head, Catelyn smiled and said. "I cannot even begin to understand, but those wolves have come to our children for a reason, Ned. There is a bond between them that I cannot explain, but it is important. I know that."

"Important? For what?" he asked.

"I don't know, my love, but for something."

Ned's thoughts travelled back to the nightmare that existed on the other side of the Wall. First he had seen and fought against undead wights and Others, and now his children had an inexplicable relationship with live representations of their house sigil, whom had not been sighted for over three hundred years south of the Wall.

Shaking away the uneasy premonition that they were on the cusp of something powerful and dreadful, Ned clung to something that was more easily understood. "You said that they sent a catspaw, Cat. Who are they?"

His lady looked him straight in the eye and said, "House Lannister."

"The Lannisters!" he exclaimed.

"It was them, Ned. The blade that the catspaw had was Valyrian steel and you cannot think Robert would wish to kill Bran, for all his anger towards you."

"No, Robert would not do that, would not even think of that," Ned agreed, but the thought of the two little Targaryen babies flashed through his mind. They had been wrapped in Lannister red and laid at Robert's feet as if they were a gift. The gruesome sight had never left him, neither had his friend's satisfaction at their fate.

It still did not mean he would seek to murder Bran.

A Lannister might, but why?

"Has Bran said anything?" he asked.

Catelyn shook her head. "He cannot remember even climbing up the tower, let alone anything that might cause someone to push him or want him dead. But I cannot help but think on that letter that Lysa sent, Ned. She accused the Lannisters of murdering Jon Arryn."

The events in the Haunted Forest had made Ned forget Lysa's message to her sister. What did it all mean? Should he have accepted Robert's offer and become Hand of the King? He was in no position far away in the North to seek the truth for either his son or his old mentor.

"I should have gone to King's Landing," he muttered. "I can do nothing from here."

"You could not ignore the reports north of the Wall, either, Ned."

The frustration ate at him. No-one knew better than he how true Catelyn's words were. He was Warden of the North and the return of the Others did not just affect the Night's Watch but the North, too. Once he and Benjen had returned, Jeor Mormont had been obviously grateful that Ned had not gone South. He was brutally honest about just how poorly manned and equipped the Wall was, but the desire to seek justice for his son and his family tore at him.

"Robb could have sent help to the Night's Watch," Ned suggested.

"Robb has done a very good job at running Winterfell whilst I was incapacitated and you were away, but he is naught but a boy for all that he wears live steel at his hip."

"He wears a real sword?"

Catelyn laughed softly. "Oh yes! Our boy is determined to be seen as a man now, and he wears the responsibility well. You would be proud of him, Ned."

"You raised him well, Cat."

"We raised him well! He was all Stark when he hosted Tyrion Lannister in the Great Hall and would not brook the Imp calling him a boy."

"The Others take the dwarf," Ned said, crossly. "I was sorry to drop that in your lap, Cat. Doubly so now you have told me about the catspaw."

"You could not have known, my love."

Ned took a deep breath, ready to face the one subject he had avoided since Catelyn had come into the room. He was still unsure of how he felt. "And Lyanna?"

"She's here, with her son and Ser Arthur."

The image of the knight who had helped him in the courtyard came flooding back to Ned. "Ser Arthur Dayne," he murmured. "I knew he looked familiar. So he has stayed rather than gone back to Dorne?"

"Yes, and he has taken over the training yard with Ser Rodrik's permission. He has Robb and Jon training hard and even has little Rickon learning basic movements."

Ned smiled at the thought of his youngest son. "Aye, well Rickon is old enough to start."

"Rickon certainly agrees. Indeed, he clamours to be allowed to hold Dawn when either Robb or Jon are allowed to spar with it as a reward for being particularly well behaved. The tantrum he throws when denied is something to watch. I believe he told Ser Arthur that you would let him hold Ice when you returned, which was better than Dawn, anyway."

Ned threw his head back and laughed at the thought. "That one has the wolf's blood running strong through him."

Catelyn smiled. "He does indeed."

"And Lyanna has settled in as well?" Ned asked, the question strange on his tongue. Lyanna had spent all of her childhood at Winterfell, unlike himself.

"She is happy to be home, Ned, and Winterfell is happy to have her return."

"Aye, well, she always did have charm."

"Yes, she is charming, it is true, but more than that, she has gift of inspiring loyalty just like you."

Ned startled at Catelyn's description. He had never truly felt at ease in his role as Lord of Winterfell. This was meant to have been his brother's, just as Catelyn was, something that he had not forgotten despite the years he had now held the title of Lord Stark.

"Of course, Arya dogs her footsteps," Catelyn said. "Especially since Jon told her that Lyanna was a spearwife."

"Spearwife?" Ned asked, confused.

"I believe the Wildlings use the term to describe a female warrior."

Memories of the Knight of the Laughing Tree filled Ned's mind and he might have found the thought amusing if anyone other than Arya was captivated.

As if reading his mind, Catelyn said, "No need to worry, Ned. Lyanna does not encourage Arya to run off to join the nearest Wildling village. Just as she does not encourage Sansa to flee South to join her prince. If anything, she is full of just how much she missed Winterfell and her family, which is good for both girls to hear."

"Sansa is still upset?" Ned asked, wondering just how much damage had been done to his daughter with the betrothal to Joffrey Baratheon. Ned still was not happy about the idea.

"Yes, but you must not think she is forever whining on about King's Landing. She was a good girl when I was indisposed and afterwards. Both girls were."

Ned kissed her cheek. "I am glad to hear it, my love."

He leaned back against the pillows, more tired that he wanted to admit after the gruelling march back to Winterfell and the all the news Catelyn had shared with him. As if sensing his weariness, Catelyn curled back up into his side. "Just relax for this morning, Ned. Winterfell can wait for a few more hours."

Ned closed his eyes and rested his cheek on top of her hair, feeling at peace for the first time since Robert had descended on Winterfell with his court.

The morning was all that Ned had to recuperate further. After the remains of his midday meal had been cleaned away, his children descended on him, wolves and all, but there was nothing but joy in the reunion.

All too soon, Catelyn had ushered them away, all but Robb, who stood taller than Ned remembered in his boiled leather with a sword at his side.

"Will you help me to the godswood, my son?" Ned asked. "My leg is not quite healed enough for me to make the journey without assistance."

"Of course, Father."

The traversed the way in silence, Ned's arm slung around Robb's neck with Grey Wind on Ned's other side. "In case you need to lean on him to balance," Robb had said when Ned had raised his eyebrows at the arrangement.

Once his prayers of gratitude for his safe return had finished and Ned was perched on his root under the heart tree, he looked at his son and said, "I am proud of you, my boy. Your lady mother and Maester Luwin both tell me how well you ruled Winterfell during my prolonged absence."

The telltale colour crept up under Robb's Tully skin as he straightened his back and shoulders at the compliment. The boy had grown during his absence and whilst Ned was impressed at his son's handling of his responsibilities, he longed for the days when Robb was smaller. His children were growing so fast.

They need to, Ned said to himself as he thought of what lurked on the other side of the Wall. For winter is coming.

"You did well with Tyrion Lannister, also. That was a tricky situation."

Robb's eyes grew stormy at the mention of the dwarf. "We must seek justice for Bran, Father, and for Mother, also. She nearly died at the hands of the catspaw, too."

The thought of what his family had faced in his absence at him once more. A reckless longing to fly south and seek out Robert for justice flashed through his thought for one insane moment.

"I know," Ned said. "But we must tread carefully. The King is none too happy with me at the moment and it would be foolish for me to race down to King's Landing and claim that House Lannister attempted to murder my son. The Queen is a Lannister and she would vociferously deny any such accusations."

The anger in Robb's face did not lessen at Ned's words, but his son had to learn that not everything could be solved easily or quickly.

Ned sighed and rubbed his brow as he contemplated the mess that grown up around Robert's visit. "There is also the question of the Others."

"They exist then? Theon scorned Jon's claims of their existence and said that he had no excuse for believing in such tales at the age of fifteen."

"Theon might want to tell that to my leg as it was an Other's blade that caused this injury."

Robb's eyes grew round and he looked at his father with awe. "You fought them?"

"Aye, and they are not easy to kill. It was Ice that saved the ranging from being lost forever."

"Ice?"

"Valyrian steel. The magic worked into the blade will pierce them where regular steel just melts away."

Robb fingered the hilt of his sword, confusion written over his face. Ned decided not to burden his oldest boy with too much straight away. There was a time and place and this was not it.

"Now, your mother tells me that you have been training with Ser Arthur?"

"Yes, Father, with Ser Rodrik's blessing of course. I do not wish for you to think that I have discarded Winterfell's Maester of Arms."

Ned smiled at that, the burgeoning signs of Robb's manhood dissolving in a desire to make sure he had not done wrong. "I am pleased that you considered Ser Rodrik's feelings, Robb. As Lord of Winterfell one day, you will need to have loyal men around you and thinking about how your actions affect others is a very good start to ensuring that you have this."

"Of course, Father."

"Training under Ser Arthur is a good thing, also. He was the finest swordsman in the land when I was your age."

"You should see him, Father," Robb said excitedly. "He will spar against two men at once and no-one yet has gotten the better of him."

"The years, it seem, have not dented his skill," Ned said, amused at Robb's enthusiastic tone.

"I think him better than the Kingslayer, Father."

In honour and in skill, Ned thought to himself.

"Aye, the Kingsguard under Ser Gerold Hightower was something to behold. They truly did possess the finest swords in the land. I hear you have also held the famed Dayne sword, Dawn," Ned said, enjoying Robb's eagerness. It was reminiscent of how excitable Robb could be a as a child, when he would be delighted at the prospect of an afternoon in the Winter Town with his father.

"You should see it, Father!" Robb exclaimed, his eyes shining with pleasure. "Its blade is milky white and the balance is a dream."

"Aye, I am sure it is. It wasn't too long to hold?"

"No, Father," Robb said proudly. "Ser Arthur himself said he was impressed at long I managed to grasp it. I bet if Uncle Benjen were to return to Winterfell soon, I would be taller than Ice now."

"No need to wait for Benjen, Robb. Tomorrow you can start to learn how to wield Ice. Fighting with a greatsword is a very different to that of a longsword and it's time you began to practice. Ice will one day be yours and you must learn how to use it."

For a moment, Robb was too overwhelmed to speak, and Ned hid the smile that came to his face. For all his newfound gravity, Robb was not above all-consuming anticipation.

At first, Ned thought the excited yips from Grey Wind were due to Robb's barely contained exhilaration, but he bounded away from Robb into the nearest trees, running out a moment later with an all-white direwolf Ned had never seen before on his heels.

Following not far behind was a boy who could only be Lyanna's lad. He stopped when he caught sight of Ned and Robb, hastily giving a bowed head. "I am sorry to interrupt, my lord," he said stiffly, as if unused to the words. "I was not aware anyone accompanied Robb."

"This is Jon, Father, Lyanna's son," Robb said unnecessarily.

"Come here, lad, and let me look at you," Ned said, beckoning him over with a smile.

Standing next to Robb, it could be seen that he was a shade taller and leaner, too. He held nothing of the Daynes in his face, though. He was all Stark with his long face, grey eyes, and brown hair.

"There is no need to ask why you have a direwolf," Ned said in a rare teasing voice, bending down to pet the white direwolf currently sniffing at his legs curiously. He wondered how right Catelyn had been regarding the bond their children shared with their wolves and if that bond encompassed Lyanna's son. By the way Jon was staring at him with the same curiosity outwardly exhibited by his wolf, Ned thought that it must.

However, there was a wariness in the boy's eyes that cut Ned to the heart. It reminded him so strongly of the look in Lyanna's eyes when she had approached him about her betrothal to Robert and spoken to him of her misgivings. He had tried to reassure her and offer her words praising Robert, but he had wondered for years after she had disappeared if he should have approached that conversation differently. Mayhap, if she had someone to confront their father with her then events could have been different.

He shook his head a little to rid himself of the thoughts. It did no good to dwell on this as nothing could be changed now.

"You have the Stark look," Ned said, unexpected affection rushing through him at the nearness of this previously unknown nephew.

A nephew, Ned thought, the word having so much more weight now he was face to face with the boy rather than being told about him from hundreds of miles away. I never thought to be an uncle. That hope had died when Benjen had joined the Night's Watch.

"And you are settling into Winterfell?" Ned asked.

"Yes, sir," Jon said before he looked down at his feet, reminiscent of the way Bran would when he lied. Glancing over at his eldest son, Ned detected a brief look of guilt. So the boy had experienced problems, which was not unexpected. From what Ned had seen of life beyond the Wall, Winterfell had probably come as a shock.

"Happy to hear it," Ned said, not wanting to drew attention to any awkwardness that might still exist. "Now, if you boys could help me back to the Great Keep, my lady wife will be searching for me as I believe it is probably time for Maester Luwin to force some draught or other on me."

His words cut the tension, and both boys laughed before Robb took up his previous position, his arm steadying Ned around his waist. Jon hovered briefly before coming to stand on Ned's left and giving additional support.

However, it was not Catelyn who was waiting in his chambers with a disgusting looking vial of some concoction in her hand but Lyanna. Ned had never been so grateful for the two strong boys who stood either side of him as he reeled slightly at the sight of his sister, older than when he had last seen her but remarkably unchanged.

His shock was mirrored in Lyanna's eyes, and her face grew white as her gaze flicked rapidly between him and Jon. Catelyn had said Jon looked remarkably like him and it must be disconcerting for Lyanna to see the younger version of him that she was used to in her son whilst he now stood there with greying hair and a greying beard.

"Ned," she whispered, her hand reaching out towards him for a moment before it fluttered back to her side as if she were uncertain of whether her touch would be welcome. Not that Ned was sure himself.

He found that his reply stuck in his throat. He could do nothing but stare at the sister he had thought dead for many a year, whilst the words crowded his tongue but refused to leave. Disappointment flashed in Lyanna's eyes at his silence and she turned to her gaze to Robb and Jon.

"Where have the pair of you been? Arthur and Ser Rodrik have both been looking for you. You were meant to have been in the training yard twenty minutes ago!"

"It was my fault, Lyanna. Robb was with me in the godswood where I made Jon's acquaintance," Ned said. "Thank you for escorting me back to my chambers, lads, but go and find Ser Arthur and Ser Rodrik now."

Robb gave a nod and with only a quick glance between Ned and Lyanna, disappeared out of the door. However, Jon remained behind, his eyes focused on his mother before she gave him a reassuring smile and he followed after his cousin.

Silence fell between them, and Ned wondered how it was he could form words that were meaningless regarding training but was unable to welcome his sister home and take her in his arms. His frustration at his muteness grew, but he could do nothing but stare at Lyanna.

"Here," she finally said, thrusting the vial out towards him. "Cat would never forgive me if I forgot to make you take this."

The use of his wife's pet name startled him into action, he took the vial from her and asked, "Cat?" before he chucked the revolting contents down his throat, briefly closing his eyes as the foul potion burned its way down to his stomach.

"Do not ask me what was in that, you do not wish to know," Lyanna said, a hint of amusement at his disgusted face in her voice. "Aye, your lady wife asked me to call her Cat."

Only family ever called Catelyn by that name, and it warmed him that Lyanna and his wife had developed some kind of bond whilst he had been fighting his way back home.

"She belongs here," Lyanna said. "She makes a good Lady of Winterfell for all her Southron blood."

"I know," Ned said.

Lyanna looked at him for a long while before she said, "Is that all you can say, Ned? I hadn't counted on ever finding someone who would make my Jon look loquacious."

She turned away from him and walked over to the window, bracing her hands on the sill and staring out, but not before Ned had seen how her face had fallen.

Not for the first time he wished that Brandon were here. He was always the one to fill a room with words and laughter. No doubt he would have caught Lyanna up in a bear hug and whirled her around the room, all the while teasing her for having a son taller than she was. He would not stand there awkward and mute as Ned currently was.

"It's good to have you home," Ned said finally, the words coming out stiff and awkward, and making him wince.

Lyanna turned back to face him, her arms folded defensively across her chest. "Your welcome has been about as warm as the Haunted Forest in the dead of winter," she said.

Ned could do nothing but gaze at her, willing her to believe that he was happy to see her, but had trouble putting it into words. He had never been very good at this, usually leaving the small pleasantries to Catelyn who imbued her words with all the southern warmth of her homeland.

"Are you not even going to ask me why?" Lyanna asked, obviously irritated at his continuing silence.

He had forgotten just how confrontational Lyanna could be. She had been the least patient of them all, demanding answers and forcing arguments if her siblings' behaviour was unsatisfactory for her.

"Why you ran with Rhaegar or why you did not even bother to let me know you were alive all these years?" Ned asked, stung by her attitude.

"Something, Ned, something other than all this grim disapproval!"

Denied the outlet of being able to pace thanks to his leg, Ned's Stark temper erupted as all the years of frustration at being helpless whilst Lyanna disappeared and the Mad King roasted his father in his armour and strangled Brandon to death boiled up inside him. "I am not sure you want to hear what I think of your actions, Lyanna. You displayed all the maturity of spoilt child in your actions and you brought disaster down onto this family."

His sister had never been one to hold back, and time had apparently not taught her this skill as her temper got also got the better of her. "That is fine coming from you. What could you know about the situation I was put in? I told both you and Father that I did not want a betrothal to Robert, but all he saw were his precious links to the other High Houses, and all you saw was the friend who was more like a brother. No one cared for my feelings regarding the match. I was to be shipped off to Storm's End and sold into marriage to appease Father's ambitions."

Ned scoffed. "Sold into marriage? You know nothing if you think a betrothal to Robert was being sold. What did you think, Lyanna? That you would be able to run wild for your whole life? You got away with it at Harrenhal, but did you think about what it would have meant to Father or our House had you been discovered? Your reputation would have been ruined!"

"Mayhap I should have let Rhaegar drag me back to the king. At least then Robert would have broken that ridiculous betrothal. He would not have stood by me because that is the type of man he is! Your precious Robert was no more in love with me than he was the whore he fathered his first bastard on, and he would have shown me the same respect that he shows his current wife," she shouted back at him.

"You are hardly the first person to have an arranged marriage. It is how it works. I had to do my duty by our house when I stepped in and honoured our father's arrangement with House Tully. I saw Cat for the first time when she walked into the sept to wed me. Do you think Cat raged and railed and refused?"

"I am not Cat, Ned. I am not one to do my duty silently and the make the best of the situation."

"And what exactly was it that Rhaegar offered you, other than a war that killed him and half your family?"

"Freedom," she whispered, a tear trickling silently down her cheek.

That tear stopped the bitter retort he had been about to make. Lyanna never cried, no matter what scrape she had gotten into as a child and the wrath she would face as a consequence. She had always met her punishment head on, her chin jutting out defiantly. The tear had the benefit of diffusing Ned's anger. "Gods, Lyanna, don't cry."

Ned moved forward to tug her into a hug, but forgot the state of his leg and had to catch himself on the back of a chair when his knee buckled. "The Others take this blasted leg!"

"It looks like they already tried," Lyanna said with a flash of wit that was so reminiscent of their childhood that he caught his breath before he broke out into a laugh.

Lyanna stared at him for a brief moment, before the fire in her eyes turned to amusement and she joined in. It had always been like that between the four of them. His lord father would say that they were a pack of rowdy, noisome wolf cubs, but that they were a pack. A pack, Lord Rickard would say, may well argue amongst themselves, but will always stand together when the time calls for it. And argue they had. Once roused, their anger would lead to hurtful words, but once dispersed, the very natural affection they felt would resurface easily.

Ned had not realised until this moment just how much he had missed that connection. Whilst he had always been more sombre than his brothers and sister, the war and loss of so much had made him doubly so. Benjen, too, had lost the natural vivacity that had characterised him as a child, and when they had been together the laughter had been rare.

"Here," Lyanna said. "Let me help you to your chair."

He waved her away. "It is no matter. I can get there myself."

"Don't be so stubborn, Ned! Besides, if that leg gets any worse then Cat will never forgive me, and I fear your wife more than you right at this moment. She has a cutting way with words."

Ned smiled affectionately and said, "Aye, she does."

"It would not have been like that for me," Lyanna said quietly. "There would not have been love between Robert and I, Ned. He would have grown tired of my headstrong nature and impatient with my inability to conform."

Ned recognised the truth in her words. Robert had fallen in love with Lyanna's beauty, but he did not know the steel behind. Ned was not even sure if Lyanna would have been able to turn a blind eye to Robert's infidelities the way Queen Cersei had at Winterfell.

"And Rhaegar didn't?"

Lyanna shrugged. "I did not know Rhaegar for long enough to find out."

"Did you at least love him?" Ned asked.

At least tell me that, he thought. Please tell me that you were madly in love and that all the war and death had been worth it.

Almost as if sensing his need to hear that she had, Lyanna looked away from him, guilt making her shoulders hunch over defensively. "I will not lie to you, Ned. No, I did not love him. I think I was infatuated at first, when we met at Harrenhal. He admired me for being the Knight of the Laughing Tree and he kept my secret. He moved me to tears with his songs, and I was flattered by all the attention. All the maids sighed over him and said how lucky Princess Elia was. Then when he crowned me the Queen of Love and Beauty, I was giddy. Some of the other ladies had been keen to let me know that I was naught but a rough girl from the North, and this was a victory over their sneering. The silver prince had crowned me, not any of them."

Lyanna paused for a moment, resting her brow against the mantelpiece above the hearth. "Afterwards, we kept up a correspondence and when in desperation at my future, I told him I contemplated running, he said he would fetch me. I was but fifteen, Ned, the same age as Jon and Robb are now. I thought I would have the freedom I desperately wanted, but all I got was a tower in the middle of Dorne and a Kingsguard to keep me there."

He flinched at her words, not wanting to hear this. All the bloodshed could have been more palatable had it been in the cause of love, but the loss of so much of his family and the turmoil the country had gone through had all been for an infatuation. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

"But he loved you?"

"I do not think so," Lyanna said quietly.

"Then for the gods' sake why?" he burst out.

"There was a prophecy and he needed a third child. Elia could not have any more children," Lyanna said, looking him straight in the eyes, hers pleading with his to understand.

The penny dropped in Ned's head, and he brushed over the incomprehensible actions of Rhaegar as he stared at his sister in horror, realisation warring with a real need to cling to the illusion that Lyanna had presented to the world. He thought back to his meeting the boy earlier with his lean frame and melancholic eyes. Then Jon's image was replaced with two small pitiful little corpses, wrapped in red cloaks that could not disguise the blood that seeped from them over the stones of the throne room.

"He's Rhaegar's," Ned whispered.

With his thoughts taken up with other issues, Ned had not thought about the significance of Jon being of an age with Robb. Of how or when Lyanna's babe had been conceived.

Lyanna nodded. Her face was deathly pale with the skin stretched taunt over her bones. "This is why I had to disappear, Ned. I wanted nothing more than to come back to Winterfell, than to be with you and Benjen, especially once I learnt about Father and Brandon, but I could not return, not with Jon."

Ned found it hard to do anything but stare at Lyanna, his mind whirling as the truth of Lyanna's words hit home. Did this make Jon Rhaegar's heir? Or was the boy a bastard in birth as well as name?

"But he is a bastard?" He asked.

Lyanna shook her head, her eyes wide in her bone-white face. "We married," she whispered. "In the manner of the old gods on the Isle of Faces. He is Rhaegar's true-born son."

He drew back, instinctively recoiling at the very thought of what Jon was. There were the two Targaryens roaming around Essos, Aerys' younger children, and he had heard that the boy, Viserys, still claimed the throne as his right, seeking to raise people to fight under his banner and reclaim all that his father had lost. He was scorned as the Beggar King, reliant on hand-outs and hospitality of those sympathetic to the Targaryen cause. But this claim was nothing compared to Jon's if the marriage was accepted.

"Gods, Lyanna," he finally choked out.

"You have to keep it a secret, Ned! No one can know. Promise me that, Ned. Not even Cat. Promise me, Ned!" she said, urgency making her voice harsh.

He stood and cursed as his knee throbbed at the action. He wanted nothing more than to walk to the window and throw it open, allowing the cold air to cool his head. Instead, he had to settle with sitting once more and rubbing his brow. "I cannot keep this from Cat, Lyanna. From everyone else I will, but not my wife."

"You cannot! It is too dangerous. The less people know, the better," she said mulishly.

"You think Cat would run to the King and tell him? That she would sell out my own blood?"

"No, of course, but do you really want her to be in possession of such knowledge? If Robert were to find out…"

This made Ned anxious. It was impossible for him not think about what could happen if Jon's lineage was exposed. There was no doubt Catelyn would be safer not knowing, but the thought of keeping such a large secret from her tore at him. No doubt, had Lyanna come home after the war, he would have had no problem keeping such a thing from his new wife, but now there was too much love and trust between them for him to even contemplate such a thing.

"I will not keep this from her. This affects her as well and she has the right to know."

Lyanna looked at him as if assessing how stubborn he would be about this issue. Whatever she saw on his face obviously convinced her that he would not budge. She sighed and said, "If you must, Ned."

He nodded. "Who else knows?"

"Arthur, of course, Maester Aemon-"

"Maester Aemon?" Ned interrupted. "Old Aemon Targaryen who is up at the Wall?"

"Aye," Lyanna said.

"What possessed you to tell him?"

Lyanna shot him a look that had him smiling despite the serious nature of their conversation. It was one of utter disdain and usually reserved for one of her brothers.

"I did not tell him, he came to visit me and arrived on Jon's arm. For all his age, Maester Aemon is not stupid and knows the timeline of his family's demise as well as myself. As soon as he knew Jon's years, he guessed the truth of the matter."

Ned could not contain the nervous tic that had his fingers drumming rapidly on the arm of the chair he sat in. Lyanna eyed these movements with concern before she said, "He won't tell anyone. Jon is his family, too, and he would not wish any harm to befall him."

"And you are sure he would not seek to place a Targaryen on the throne once more?"

"He is of the Night's Watch. He sought to forsake any claims to power by taking the black. At no point has he left the Wall to aid his family in any way, so no, I do not think he would wish to do so now," Lyanna paused for a moment before she continued. "He did tell Jon, though. I could not stop him as Jon walked in during a difficult moment."

"And Jon will be content with playing a bastard?" Ned asked, rubbing his temple and wishing away the ache that had taken root as he observed the mess that threatened to engulf him.

He also could not imagine anyone knowing the truth of their birth, just what their birthright was, and settling to be a bastard. It was an intolerable situation. To be a Snow instead of a Targaryen. He would have to keep a close watch on the boy to make sure he did not do something rash.

Lyanna smiled and put her hand over Ned's as if she recognised his anxiety. "Try not to worry about Jon, Ned. He grew up beyond the Wall as one of the Free Folk. He has no use for iron chairs or kingship. He was sad rather than consumed with a sudden lust for power. For him, he has lost a father not gained a crown. He loves Arthur and would much rather be his bastard son than any trueborn offspring of a Crown Prince."

The anxiety remained, bubbling away his gut. There was no telling if Jon's mind would be changed the longer he lived at Winterfell. Ned was sure that what seemed unimportant beyond the Wall might well take on a new significance within the realm of the Iron Throne.

As if seeking to change the topic, Lyanna said, "I had hoped to see Benjen."

"As he had hoped to see you," Ned said. "But he has been away from the Wall for two long stretches of time, and Lord Mormont had no justification for sending him down to Winterfell once again so soon after his last visit."

Lyanna pouted at that. "What was he thinking taking the black anyway?"

Ned had his suspicions, but as they were all concerning her disappearance with Rhaegar and the events that followed, he kept quiet. There was no need for Lyanna to feel guilt regarding Benjen as well.

"The Starks have ever been friends of the Watch," he said instead.

"Aye, well mayhap that is a good thing."

The image of the tall graceful otherworldly beings whom he had fought filled Ned's mind, and he shivered. "A good thing indeed!"

Silence fell between them. Ned could not help but reflect on all that passed and undoubtedly all that was to come. Winter was coming in more than one way.

He turned back towards Lyanna and saw the same troubled look on her face. "I should have stayed away," she said. "I should never have sought you out."

"No, you did the right thing," he said. He could not imagine being all the way in King's Landing whilst the North faced such danger. Hus thoughts passed on to the solemn lad Lyanna had brought with her. "You did the right now and then."

She looked at him, her eyes pleading for his approval, as she mulled over his words. "You were right to stay away," Ned continued. "You were right to keep Jon safe."

A brilliant smile broke out on her face at that. "Oh Ned!" she said, as she ran over, her arms reaching out for his, and her cheek resting on the top of her head. "I have missed you so."

"It's good to have you home, Lyanna," he said gruffly

It was not until later that night, as he ran his hands through Catelyn's hair that Ned was able to take stock and truly think about the day's events. His head had whirled with worries and potential consequences ever since his conversation with Lyanna, and it was a relief to have the time to truly think things through with the one person who would allow him that luxury.

"And you suspected?" he asked, surprised at his wife's calm reaction to being told the truth about Jon's parentage.

"Well, yes," Catelyn said, amusement lacing her tone. "It was no stretch of the imagination once I knew Jon's age. I cannot see Ser Arthur conducting a torrid affair with his crown prince's wife right under Rheagar's nose, can you?"

Ned chuckled. "When you put it that way, no, my love, I cannot."

"How long do you think we can keep Lyanna's presence here quiet?" Catelyn asked.

"We will be lucky to get six turns of the moon or more," Ned said. At some point news would travel down the Kingsroad. He had an advantage in that the North was more isolated than others regions of Westeros, but it was not cut off completely and merchants did travel to White Harbour and into the hinterland, often aiming for Winterfell and other castles.

"How are you going to explain Jon? Robert is heedless but he is not stupid, and his queen is even less so."

Ned groaned. He was not sure how they would tackle this particular issue. "Honestly, I do not know. I wish Lyanna had the foresight to lie about his age."

Catelyn raised her head from where it had been nestled on Ned's chest. "Eddard Stark!" she scolded with a teasing smile on her face. "Are you advocating the use of lies?!"

"In this case, my love, I most definitely am," he said, caressing her cheek with his hand before the smile dropped from his face and he continued. "I saw the bodies of little Rhaenys and Aegon, Cat, and I would not wish that on anyone's child, let alone my own blood."

"Gods, Ned!" Catelyn said, all amusement gone. "What are we going to do?"

"I do not know, my love."