The Snakewood

Eddard knelt to the ground once more as he had done a dozen other times that day. He ran his hand over the soft and loamy earth, looking for the tracks he knew to be there. Finally he saw them, large and pronged hoof prints that indicated the elusive stag was nearby. He stood up slowly, gripping his bow in hand as he carefully treaded down the trail the stag must've went down.

"Ned? Ned where in the seven hells are you?" a voice boomed from behind him as a flock of tiny birds flew off from their resting places in the canopy above.

"Over here, you black haired buffoon," Ned replied hotly, turning to where the deep voice had called from.

Eddard watched as the bushes jumped and heaved until finally a tall young man with black hair and blue eyes emerged looked somewhat raggard with a few leaves and twigs in his thick hair.

"Gods, Ned, these Snakewoods can take one up their arse. You hear me? Up their arse," Robert heaved as he went to stand closer to his fellow ward and friend.

"You should see the wolfswood then. I'm sure you'd love it just as much as here. Forests as far as the eye can see, from Winterfell all the way to the Bay of Ice," Eddard replied with a small hint of laughter in his voice.

"Fuck off, Ned. Now where is this gods damned stag we've been hunting?"

"If you haven't scared it off north of the Wall with your crashing through the brush, he should be down this path here. I found some tracks that lead down there."

"Good, we kill this beast, celebrate your blasted nameday, and get back to the wine and whores," Robert replied lightheartedly as he swung the bow he was using as a cane back onto his back. "And will you smile a little, you look like a sour old man."

Eddard only nodded absentmindedly and began to follow Robert along the trail, what he said weighing on him. It was Eddard's sixteenth nameday, he was now a man full grown. It felt strange for him to think that. He had spent the last eight years in the Eyrie, being fostered with Robert by Ser Jon Arryn. These years had been great to him, he had spent it with two of the best men he had ever known. Robert was a brother in all but name and made the craggy and bleak mountains of the Vale echo with laughter. Jon had been his second father, guiding him with a firm but gentle hand and had taught him what honor truly meant. Ned was deep in thought when he felt Robert's hand on his chest, letting him know something was off.

"Ned, you smell that? Smells like burning hair."

Ned sniffed the air as well and indeed the wind carried the bitter smell of burning hair. It seemed to be coming from the east, down a old game trail that was more rock that path.

"Might be poachers, we better check it out," Rob whispered in Ned's ear.

Ned nodded and silently the two men headed up the rocky trail toward the pungent smell. As they neared the source they could make out slight rustling noises as well as what sounded like faint squeaks. Robert, who was first up the path let out a surprised gasp. Ned finally got up the rocky hill and the scene in front of him was a surprise indeed.

The rocky path had led into a small clearing and within it was a fire in an eastern corner and what looked to be a brown mass of fur next to it. Ned looked into the fire, expecting to see a burnt rabbit or squirrel in the fire, but it was larger than either of the animals. As he was nearing the fire, an unexpected noise came from the brown pile of fur and he finally realized what it was: a direwolf.

"Ned, is that a-?"

"A direwolf," Ned confirmed as he studied the beast.

It was large as all grown direwolves are, big as a small pony. Ned ran his hand down its brown coat until his hand felt something hot. It was bleeding from the abdomen and he realized it was a female, a female who had recently given birth. Ned felt a sickening feeling enter his stomach as a realization washed over him.

"Robert, check the fire."

"For what?" Robert asked still being in somewhat of a shock at seeing something so bizarre in front of his eyes.

"A pup, this one's just given birth," Ned replied softly as he indicated the swath of bloodied fur under the female's belly.

Ned watched as Rob neared the fire uncertainly, and used a stick to poke through the fire. There he found a burning dark grey pelt in the blaze. He held it up for Ned to see before tossing it aside the fire. Ned nodded solemnly before turning back to the dying direwolf. He ran his hand up her thick fur once more and looked into her dying face. She had a calm but strained look about her with light grey eyes that seemed to pierce his own. He sat there looking into her eyes for a long while until she shifted her eyes from him to somewhere down below her, near the treeline. Ned followed her gaze and saw two patches of abnormal color, one a dark grey, the other pitch black. Ned slowly got to his feet and neared the out of place colors to find two more pups who were evidently trying to escape the stench that permeated the clearing. Ned picked up the two gently and put them in his arms before settling them back before the mother's face. He watched as she licked them a few times each before nudging them back toward Ned, a look of stoic calmness across her face. Ned leaned forward to touch the pups and as he did, the she-wolf gave a great heaving breath before falling still a final time.

"Ned, what in the seven hells was that?" Robert looked to his friend as if a ghost had appeared before his very eyes.

"I-I don't know," Ned replied as he picked up the two pups and cradled them gently in his arms. "But I do know this wasn't a coincidence."

"Ned, you're not thinking of keeping them are you? These are wild beasts, not hunting dogs."

"You just saw what I saw, a dying direwolf shoving her pups into my hands. My house's sigil is the direwolf, to let them waste away and die of starvation would bring the wrath of the Old Gods down upon me and perhaps my entire house."

Robert looked at Ned for a long time. Ned knew Robert not be superstitious or overly religious but he doubted even he could deny that this was strange and perhaps was guided by forces unknown to them.

"Still, these are direwolves, one of the banes of the First Men. Hunted to near extinction south of the Wall. To keep them it's, it's just not nat-"

Robert was cut short as a falcon's cry echoed around the clearing. Ned and Robert looked up to see a great falcon perched above them. They watched as it went from one side of the clearing to the other, letting out cries as it watched them from above. As it let out a final cry it flew southwest. Rob and Ned watched as it flew away, only for a great stag to hurdle through the clearing, brushing past Robert and Ned and heading in the same direction that the falcon had flown.

Ned and Robert looked in the direction the two animals had gone for a long while, both bewildered as to what had just happened. Ned looked to Robert after awhile and saw him slack jawed and speechless.

"If that's not some sort sign, then I don't know what is," Ned said as he turned to gather his bow from where he dropped it near the she-wolf.

Ned saw from the corner of his eye that Robert was still disturbed as he fumbled with his bow when he started smothering the fire with piles of dirt. As Rob and Ned were finishing cleaning up the clearing and burying the wolf, they heard a crashing sound coming from outside of the clearing. Ned looked to Rob slowly and Rob motioned to head back down the path they had come from. When they had gone just under the ridge Rob urged Ned to stop.

"We still need to learn who did this in the first place," Rob whispered in his ear as he snaked his head over the ridge to see if someone had come into the clearing yet.

Ned mimicked Rob's actions and watched alongside him. For a few more minutes they just heard the crashing come through the forest until finally the brush parted to their left and a man with dark hair entered the clearing. He had a concerned look written across his face as he walked across the clearing, stopping at the fire and bending down to examine the charred corpse of the wolf pup beside it. Ned watched him straighten again then begin to examine the mound where Ned had buried the dead she-wolf. His eyes were glued to the man until Robert had jabbed him in the ribs, getting his attention.

"That's Lyle, Lyle Lynderly. He hunted with us last year when that boar was in a rage."

Comprehension dawned on Ned as he realized who it was. Rob started to climb up into the clearing again and Ned went after him.

"Lyle! Lyle!," Robert called as he and Ned entered the clearing once more.

Lyle turned his head around from the mound and faced the two young men. A similar look of comprehension that Ned had worn moments earlier now crossed the older man's face as well.

"Ah, young Robert Baratheon," Lyle replied as he stuck his hand out to clasp Robert's own. "And I believe you are young Eddard Stark, am I correct?"

"Indeed, my Lord," Ned replied as he shifted the young wolf pups to his left arm to free his right.

"Wolves? My Lord, may I ask where you found them?" Lyle asked warily as he released Ned's hand.

"We smelled a foul odor while tracking a stag back that way," Ned replied uneasily, gesturing towards the path that they had used. "When we got here we found a fire burning with the body of a pup within it, and next to the fire, a brown direwolf who had just given birth. I found these two at the edge, I expect they didn't like the stench of burning hair."

"Aye, that'd probably irritate them something fierce," Lyle replied as he went to investigate the mound where they had buried the she-wolf.

"You don't sound surprised to hear of a direwolf around here," Robert chimed in, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Normally I'd find it extremely alarming, but we've tracked a group of experienced poachers from out past Coldwater. I expect they smuggled her down from north of Eastwatch, not realizing she was pregnant. Were probably hoping to sell her to some sort of underground fighting ring."

"How do they manage that? The Night's Watch surely would have found out about it."

"You'd be surprised how far bribery and trickery can get you, Lord Stark. Luckily it seems that whatever plans they had for her ended when she started giving birth. It's a good thing that you came along when you did. This whole litter would have died if you hadn't smelled the unfortunate pup. Only two out of four it seems even has a chance at life."

"Four? I counted only three."

"I found a another pup down the path I came from. Seems the poachers strangled it before leaving it to rot. Shame, direwolves are clever and intelligent creatures they didn't deserve that fate. May I ask what you plan to do with those pups, Lord Stark?"

Ned shuffled the pups around again in his arms, looking over the two. The dark gey one was smaller than the black one and it seemed had already opened its eyes. The right eye a dark grey and the left seemed to shift between different shades of indigo and blue. The black one was a little larger and squirmed against Ned's grip, its eyes were tightly closed.

"I'll take the grey one for myself, the black one should go to Benjen."

"What about Brandon? He's the older one, right?" Robert asked as he too examined the pups.

"True, but Benjen has always got the short end of the stick. I expect he'd love a new companion. Besides, black has always been Benjen's color."

"Very good, Lord Stark. An older sibling should always look out for his younger siblings, and I can't think of anyone better suited to a direwolf than a Stark," Lyle replied with a faint trace of approving laughter in his voice.