Admit it, you had given up on me, hadn't you :) Well my dearies, I won't keep you long. Just know that I have loved each and every one of your PMs and reviews! You have kept me going through some very hard times, and I am so so sorry that it has taken this long. So without further adieu, here is the long awaited chapter. I hope it is worth the wait!

Disclaimer: The GoT characters and world belong to their creators. No infringement is intended, however considering I have read and finished the fifth book FIVE TIMES without even a glimmer of when the next book will be released (yes I see the irony of that), I feel I am in my rights to try to sate my withdrawl any way I can. You, GRRM, have only yourself to blame at this point! But seriously please don't sue. The loan Powers That Be already own my soul and I have nothing else to give!

He stood alone in the dark sea of shadows, aware only of the white hot pain in his chest and side. He gasped out, clutching at his chest, his hands groping blindly as they searched for the cause. They came away sticky and wet, but without any light to see by he could only speculate as to what coated them, though he could guess.

He tried to call out for help, but his voice was strangled and hoarse, as if he hadn't used it in years. Panic began to rise in his chest- he could feel it boiling up from deep inside him. He wanted to scream and beat and rip apart the darkness that threatened to suffocate him but he couldn't move.

'It won't do any good, boy' the voice penetrated the black like a skulking predator going for the kill, ravaging his senses. It was the sound of a thousand tortured voices screaming in agony and it echoed all around him as if it came from inside his own head. He cried out in pain as it assaulted his ears. 'The dead can't hear you.'

And suddenly he was falling, falling like a stone in the sea through the blackness so quickly it left him disoriented. He lost track of time and direction, and even his own senses seemed to blank. The impact of his back against the ground was near to bone shattering. His head bounced off the ground so hard his teeth felt as if they'd rattle right out of his head. He closed his eyes to ward off the dizzying effect, trying to concentrate on his breathing.

Slowly the world seemed to settle again. Sounds and smells began to awaken his senses, calling to his memories and bringing him back to the world. He could hear wind stirring grass and dirt and leaves as it gently caressed his skin. It might have been comforting had it not brought along the acrid smell of smoke and…something else, something foul.

Still he kept his eyes closed; letting his other senses awaken while he tried to settle into himself. He felt the soft blades of grass beneath him as well as the sun-warmed dirt. His fingers clenched to grip it, to provide an anchor to the still spinning world.

His hearing began to sharpen again; things that were moments before muffled were now sharp and piercing. He could now hear the terrified cries of dying horses. The thunder he had originally passed off as blood rushing in his ears was now clearly the voices of a thousand crows. Opening his eyes slowly he could see them soaring above him- so many they blocked out the sun.

The smell of smoke and death wafted on the breeze and he choked. Turning on his side in a vain attempt to be rid of the stench proved to be a mistake, however, as a wave of dizziness and nausea assaulted him. For a moment he sat huddled on himself on shaking knees, heaving and choking.

Finally he steadied himself enough to look around. Immediately he wished he hadn't. He knelt in the middle of a battlefield. Bodies of men and horses were strewn haphazardly all around him, broken and burning. Carrion birds invaded in swarms attacking the dead and tormenting the dying in a voracious frenzy.

He watched in grizzly horror as a crow tore out the eye of a man not more than an arm's length away from where he knelt. The poor soul tried to scream but gurgled and choked on his own blood instead, waving weakly to try to shoo the bird away.

A low chuckling sounded behind him. Jon turned to find the demon lounging against a tree blackened by fire, and somehow its smile was more terrifying than the horror of the battle ground.

Robb was startled awake when the door creaked open. Before he could even react, his mother stepped into the room. She hesitated for a moment, glancing at Jon's bed and Robb was surprised to see Catelyn's face soften as a small smile graced her lips. Following her gaze, Robb understood.

Robb hadn't the heart to send Bran away, and Arya had joined them with a determination and facial expression that simply said if Robb even tried to send her away, all Hell would break loose. The three of them sat around their half brother, sharing stories and taking comfort from each other. After days of watching over Jon virtually on his own, it was nice to have the company.

He had been more relaxed in those few hours than he had been since Jon had been injured. Sometime during the night they had all drifted off to sleep. Arya and Bran had snuggled close to Jon and now slept soundly curled into his side.

"They didn't want to leave him." Robb spoke softly, afraid of breaking the spell. His mother nodded and walked over to the bed to gaze down at her children sleeping so peacefully.

"I had wondered why they were not at their lessons. I should have known they would be here." She brushed a lock of hair from Arya's face, causing his little sister to stir. However, instead of waking, she pressed closer into Jon's side.

Robb watched a war of emotions cross his mother's face and could only guess as to what they reflected. On the one hand, it was rather adorable to see any form of tenderness come from his little rebellious sister, yet on the other hand, to have her youngest daughter reject her-even subconsciously-in favor of Jon must not have sat well with her.

"Should we wake them?" He asked, trying to change the subject. His mother smiled and shook her head.

"No, let them sleep. Lessons can wait a day. Just make sure they take their meals." She said, with a look that warned him to do the same.

"Yes, mother." Robb agreed. Catelyn leaned over to kiss Bran on the forehead before nodding to him and leaving the room.

Robb sighed and scrubbed his face. He glanced over his shoulder at his sleeping siblings and couldn't help but smile. Even Jon seemed to be more at peace than he had in the last few days. It seemed he was growing stronger, and Robb let himself dare to hope that the worst was behind them.

The sun broke over the horizon, turning the sky into beautiful streams of pink and chasing away the last shadows of night. It seemed to Ned that the whole world rose to greet it as birds began to sing and chatter.

He had already been riding for hours already, having slept so little the night before. Exhaustion crept into his bones and seeped into his mind. He felt himself nodding off, and after almost falling off his horse for the third time, decided it was time for a rest.

He moved his horse to a small grove of young birch trees and dismounted. He removed her saddle and leaned it against a tree before letting her graze, then eased himself down to lean against the saddle. It seemed as if all of his energy drained into the ground as soon as he sat.

Every moment of respite was a moment lost on his journey- a moment that Jon didn't have- yet he knew if he kept up with his current pace, both he and the horse would fail. With a frustrated sigh, Ned resigned himself to rest, though he refused to fall completely into sleep.

Morning came as a blessing to Sansa. She had spent the majority of the night tossing and turning. What little sleep she did acquire was plagued by horrible nightmares. In her dreams she watched herself scream at her half-brother. Horrible words and names spilled from her mouth like a torrent of water.

She wanted to bite down hard on her tongue-hard enough to cut it off. She didn't mean it, could never mean it, and the stricken look upon his face broke her heart into a thousand pieces, yet the words still fell from her mouth like a waterfall.

In one particularly horrific dream, she had stabbed Jon in the belly with one of his dulled practice swords, all the while screaming "it's your fault!" in his pain filled face. She woke up screaming and tearing at her sheets.

After that, she spent the rest of the night laying in bed and listening to the sounds of the night. Crickets chirped and night birds sang, and Sansa began to wish that she had gone with her father back to Winterfell…back to Jon.

As sunlight peaked through the doorway of her pavilion, it found Sansa Stark already dressed for the day. Her hair was combed and braided in the Southern style, and she had powdered her face to erase any trace of a sleepless night, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not erase the weary look in her eyes.

"Lady Sansa, the prince to see you." The voice of her guardsman boomed in the morning silence and she almost jumped out of her skin.

"Let him in," Sansa replied, standing quickly and attempting to smooth the wrinkles in her dress. Prince Joffery Baratheon entered her tent, swathed in golden sunshine. Sansa blinked in the sudden brightness before remembering her courtesies. Hastily, she curtseyed low, bowing her head to hide the flush in her cheeks.

"Your Grace. Forgive me, I was not expecting you."

"Rise, my lady. It is I who should beg forgiveness. It is early, I know, but I wondered if you would like to walk with me."

"I-I would be honored, Your Grace." Sansa rose and took the prince's arm as he led her from her tent and into the morning light, and for one glorious moment all thoughts of Jon and her night terrors melted away like frost in the morning sun.

Theon Greyjoy stalked along the training grounds of Winterfell, glaring at any passerby that dared to stare too long. He was one of only four boys to train that day, and the lack of competition did little to calm his dark mood.

It seemed all of Winterfell had screamed to a halt after Jon Snow's mysterious accident. Well, perhaps that wasn't entirely true. Life in the great castle went on, but things were vastly different and far more chaotic. People were on high guard and on edge. Patrols had been increased and as a result, training sessions often went unattended.

Finding Snow comatose and badly wounded had left a bad taste in his mouth. It wasn't that he particularly cared for the younger boy, but the fact that something like that could happen so close to Winterfell-to the presiding family- unsettled him. It was too close to home.

This is not your home a voice inside his head reminded him. They are not your family, least of all Jon Snow! But somewhere deep inside he knew that wasn't entirely true. In the ten years since he had first arrived at the castle, the people had become as much a part of him as the Iron Isles.

Lord Stark had become much like a father to him and he had grown fond of the children as well. As close as they had become, however, something always reminded him that he would never truly be one of them. It was something he and Jon Snow seemed to share. They were both so close to the family, yet never truly part of it.

Perhaps that was what bothered him so about the whole incident. Snow was merely a bastard- a dark mark on Lord Eddard Stark's otherwise unwavering honor- but his ties with the family ran deep, far deeper than any Theon could ever hope to know. It was built on friendship, trust, and love, and bound in blood. And no matter how hard Theon tried, he would never be a match for that. Would they worry so, if it had been me?

The midday sun beat down upon Ned's head, but Ned could barely feel the warmth. He had dozed for what he guessed were a few hours, but it left him feeling even more tired than he already was. He pushed on, hoping to reach Winterfell by dawn the next morning.

The countryside was vast and beautiful, but Ned paid it no mind. All he could think of was reaching his son in time. He remembered when Jon was small, perhaps only five or six. It was the first time he felt real fear for his children, a horrid, devastating fear that froze his heart. He sighed heavily and leaned into his saddle as the memories flooded him.

It had been a cool day for Spring. A light snow had fallen earlier that morning and the boys had been released early from lessons for a much needed energy release. All had seemed calm and quiet, nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn't until the light faded that they sensed something was wrong.

Catelyn was in the nursery with baby Arya, which left him to sup with Sansa and his sons alone. It was when they were settling down to eat that Ned realized he was missing a child. Robb had returned alone, and seemed to have no idea where his half brother was. Still, Ned didn't feel the prickles of fear until a search of the boy's usual hiding spots turned up with nothing. At that point, panic was practically spilling from his pores.

They had searched the castle and surrounding grounds for what felt like an eternity to Ned, yet as the light faded away and the temperature dropped, there was still no sign of Jon. The moon climbed in the sky as Ned made his way to the Godswood. He knelt in front of the heart tree, touching its smooth bark, and prayed.

That's when he heard it; a small noise, barely a whimper that pierced through the stillness like a knife. Ned's breath caught in his chest as he strained his ears. Again he heard it, so soft it could have passed as wind, but something in Ned told him it was something else entirely.

Ned rose and quickly moved toward the noise, daring to hope. He followed it deeper into the wood. The trees had grown so thick that the great leafy branches had blocked out the moon and cast everything in darkness.

He could barely see his hands in front of him, yet he didn't let the lack of light slow him down. He followed the whimpering, stumbling over roots and stones and nearly colliding with trees. His heart was racing so fast that his ears were pounding, and it took him a moment to realize that the moaning had stopped.

Fear gripped his heart in its icy fist as Ned cursed himself for being so careless. He was shouting before he even realized what he was doing, and he cursed again as he heard the panic creeping into his voice.

"Father?" a small, frightened voice called from the darkness to his left. Ned nearly fell to his knees in relief. He called for Jon again to better gage his direction and upon the answering call, sprinted through the trees.

A break in the thick canopy allowed him to see the boy. Jon lay sprawled on the uneven ground beneath a large maple, wedged between the roots and a large bolder. A large branch lay a few feet away from him, telling Ned exactly what had happened.

Anger and relief warred within him at the sight of his missing son. Ned took a moment to breath and focused on the relief, walking towards Jon. The boy looked up at the sound of a twig snapping, his eyes meeting Ned's.

"Father!" he cried out, trying to scramble up to meet his father, but falling back against the ground with a wince instead.

"Lay still, Jon. Be still." Ned rushed the rest of the way and knelt by his son.

"You came for me?" Jon seemed astonished at the thought, which troubled Ned deeply.

"Of course I did. Why would I not?" He asked as he looked Jon over. Jon looked away sadly.

"I didn't think anyone would." He whispered. Ned took hold of the boy's chin and turned it so he was looking directly into his eyes.

"Then you are a fool." He said, brushing Jon's dark hair from his eyes. "Are you hurt?" He asked after a moment. Ned could see scratches and bruises marring the boy's skin, but the way he winced when he tried to move suggested something worse.

"Just my shoulder. I fell out of the tree" Ned nodded absently, gently moving Jon to examine his shoulder.

"It's dislocated," he said with a frown. He picked up a stick and handed it to Jon.

"I'm going to have to put it back in place before I can move you. I want to you bite down on this, it's going to hurt". Jon did as he was told while Ned positioned himself behind his son.

"Alright. One. Two." On three, Ned jerked hard on the boy's arm, sliding his shoulder back into place with an audible pop. Jon bit down hard on the stick, clenching his eyes tightly shut. Ned leaned against the roots, letting the anxiety of the last few hours drain from him.

"Are you very angry?" Jon asked softly, obviously growing wary of his father's silence.

"Furious," was his response. Jon settled awkwardly, visibly tensing in his father's arms at that declaration.

"But right now, I'm just grateful all you had was a dislocated shoulder." Ned said as he hugged the boy close to his chest. The two of them sat like that for a few moments.

"Why did you run away, today? Why didn't you think anyone would look for you?" Ned asked calmly. He was angry that the boy had been so careless, but something told him there was more to it than a selfish, thoughtless, desire to be alone.

"Because I'm only a bastard, and bastards are neither wanted, nor needed." Jon confessed after a long moment of silence. That took Ned completely off guard. It was a long moment before he spoke, and when he did his words were quiet and careful.

"Where did you hear that?" He asked. He had known there were some in his castle that questioned his motives for bringing the boy back to Winterfell and raising him alongside his trueborn children, but he hadn't thought for a moment that anyone would dare treat him badly because of it. Had he been naïve?

Instead of answering him, Jon began to absentmindedly play with the leaves on the ground. After a moment he sighed and looked directly into Ned's eyes.

"Why does Lady Catelyn hate me?"

"Why do you think she hates you?" It was obvious to anyone with eyes that his lady wife was not fond of Jon, but to hate the boy?

"She never smiles at me. She always blames me for things, even if Robb admits to doing them. She doesn't want me to play with Robb or Sansa or baby Arya." Jon listed off every reason he could think of. It was a rather long list.

Ned suddenly felt ashamed that he knew nothing of how badly Catelyn's disdain had festered, nor how it was affecting his son. He was silent for a long moment. Jon hung his head, as if afraid he had angered his father once more.

Again Ned found himself turning Jon's face so that he was looking into his eyes.

"You are not worthless." Though calm and quiet, his voice held resonance. Tears welled in Jon's eyes and the boy tried to pull away but Ned held him firmly in his grasp. "I am sorry that people make you feel like that. I am sorry Lady Catelyn holds you responsible for something you had no control over." He took a breath to steady himself.

"But you cannot run away like that." Jon stared into his father's eyes, returning the same intense stare. The tears were gone as he threw his arms around Ned's neck.

"Yes, father. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Ned held him for a moment before straightening.

"It's time to go back. The whole castle has been searching for you since sundown. We should let them go to bed." Ned carried Jon out of the wood and the boy was fast asleep before they came to the courtyard.

That night had been a long night. Even after Ned had put Jon to bed, he spent the next few hours battling with Catelyn. Though it seemed they would make headway with the issue, she refused to ever love the boy. It made him that much more determined to reach Jon as soon as possible.

The scents of pine and snow filled his nostrils. The smell of the North. Jon inhaled deeply and sighed, opening his eyes.

He stood in a clearing and though he could not discern any recognizable landmarks in the darkness, somehow he knew he was home. Stars glittered in the night sky, and while the moon was nearly full, the clearing below was unnaturally dark.

A branch snapped behind him and he turned abruptly, nearly colliding with the figure.

"Jon" the voice was soft, but Jon recognized it nonetheless.

"Robb!" Relief flooded through him, but it faded almost immediately when he saw the shocked look on his brother's face. His skin was pale, nearly bloodless, and he looked at Jon with a mixture of shock and confusion. He looked down at his chest and Jon followed his rose inside him as he pulled the dirk he didn't know he held out of his brother's chest.

"NO" he whispered, meeting Robb's pain filled gaze.

"NO!" Robb's legs gave out from under him. Jon fell with him, clutching his brother to his chest.

"NO. Please no! I didn't mean to. Gods, Robb, I swear I didn't mean to!" Jon was sobbing now. Robb's hand reached out for Jon's and he grasped it tightly.

"Jon" he whispered as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

"Shh" Jon blinked the tears away and leaned in closer to Robb. "I'm here, I'm right here. It's going to be fine." He could hear the desperation in his voice but he didn't care.

"Don't-" Robb coughed, spitting up more blood.

"Hush. Don't try to talk. You're going to be alright." Robb clutched his brother's arm and pulled him down so Jon was staring into his eyes. There was an urgency there that Jon had not noticed before.

"Don't let it win."Robb gasped. So many thoughts went through Jon's mind, there were so many things he wanted to say, but looking into his brother's eyes all he could do was nod.

"I won't" He whispered. Robb smiled and squeazed his hand, and then he was gone.

Robb gazed out of the window, watching the people below go about their business.

His brother and sister had gone to their lessons and the castle seemed to have resumed normal activities, though he could tell people were still on edge.

The silence was broken by a moan. Robb turned to the bed where his brother' lay. Jon clutched the sheets tightly. Robb walked over to him, placing his hand upon Jon's forehead. He frowned at the heat he found there. Reaching over to the basin beside the bed, he grabbed the cloth and placed it on Jon's brow.

"Robb, please, I'm so sorry" His brother whispered desperately. Robb frowned

"I'm here, little brother. I'm right here." He took his brother's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Father will be here soon. Everything will be fine." He wasn't sure if he was saying it for Jon's benefit or his own.

The sun shone brightly above him, yet Ned found it hard to stay awake. He sagged deeper into the saddle, drifting in and out of dream. Most were of Jon. All were nightmares. As much as he tried, he could not fight it.

Ned found himself in the Godswood at Winterfell once again. The darkness that engulfed him was unnatural. Voices whispered from the shadows, though when he looked around him, all that appeared were the dark statues of the trees. He walked towards the voices, trying to ignore the growing sense of dread.

He froze upon entering the clearing. Jon knelt beside the spring clutching something to his chest and cloaked in the darkness. For the first time in the dreams, his son was without injury. Even still, there was something…off about him.

Upon stepping closer, Ned saw what it was that Jon held.

Robb lay bloodied and lifeless in Jon's arms. Ned stared wordlessly, uncomprehending. It took him a moment to realize Jon was looking at him.

"Father" He choked, "I didn't mean to. I swear."

Ned was about to ask what he was talking about when he saw the hilt of a blade in Robb's chest. It was a familiar blade, and he recognized it as Jon's blade. He looked in Jon's eyes and watched as a thousand emotions played behind the boy's stormy pools. Chief amongst them was disbelief and grief.

Ned reached out to comfort his son but hesitated when something caught his eye. In the reflection of the pool he saw himself and his boys, but there was something else. A shadow weaving around his son like some kind of snake.

"Father, please, please forgive me"

"This was not your fault" Ned tried to say, but the words that came out of his mouth were angry and hateful. Jon's eyes widened in surprise and fear at his words. Ned reached out for Jon for a second time, when he felt a rush of dizziness hit him. Suddenly it was as if a barrel of ice water was poured over his head. He opened his eyes, not realizing he had closed them, and saw that he was now looking up at his son.

"How…?" The words died in his throat as his surroundings became clear. He was standing below the surface of the Godswood pool. It was as if he had entered another world, however. Instead of being engulfed by water and unable to breath, it was simply as if he was standing in the clearing and peering through a panel of glass. The illusion was broken when he saw the shadow lurking behind his son's shoulder, however.

It was a vile thing, he knew. It seemed to enjoy Jon's despair, seemingly growing stronger and more corporeal. Ned watched in growing horror as the thing solidified into a human form, its eyes black and soulless. Jon hadn't seemed to notice the creature, his attention on the lifeless form of his half-brother, and the figure seemed to drink in the boy's pain.

"This is what you are, boy." It seemed to whisper. "You bring nothing but pain and misery and death to those around you. Give up, now, and come with me. I can make you great. I can make you strong. Why linger in a world that marks you as a monster?"

"It won't be much longer, now" A voice spoke from behind him. Ned spun around to find a woman cloaked in shadows. She was slight and young, perhaps a bit older than Sansa. Her eyes shone in the moonlight, however they were the only features of her face he could make out.

"Who are you?" He asked. She ignored him, stepping beside him instead and watching the scene above them.

"He works in deceit and illusion. He will find his every fear and twist it to his advantage until the boy breaks." Her voice trembled as she spoke, though Ned wasn't sure if it was from fear or anger that caused it to waver. Suddenly she turned to him.

"He grows weaker every moment, and yet you simply sleep and dream!" She stared accusingly at him and he could almost feel the anger and frustration radiating off of her. She moved towards him, and when she spoke next it was almost a growl.

"Do you even care?" Fury ignited within him at that and he met her strange hard gaze with his own.

"Of course I care" He growled, his voice low and full of menace. She stared at him for a moment, long and hard.

"Then do something."

Before he could respond, he felt the same dizzying rush from before, once again finding himself in the clearing with his son. His appearance seemed to startle the creature, and Ned took a moment to relish that before he stepped forward.

"Father?" Jon inquired, as if he noticed Ned for the first time.

"He's here to kill you. You who disgrace him at every turn." The demon responded, grinning as Jon looked away as if he had been slapped.

"Shut your mouth before I cut out your tongue." Ned growled. The demon only laughed in response.

"It makes no matter. The boy is weak and getting weaker. It has begun and there is no stopping it."

Ned was at its throat before he could even blink, tearing the creature away from his sons. He pushed it hard and it fell against the weirwood, howling in pain as if the touch of the bark burned. As Ned watched, it seemed as if the face of the tree grew more sinister, its eyes seemingly widened in what looked to be anger. The creature tore away from the tree with a hiss, stumbling multiple times before finally toppling into the water. It screeched in agony as the water bubbled around him, boiling him until it was nothing but a black cloud of ink and dispersing.

Ned awoke with a start and a curse on his lips. It took him a moment to gain his bearings again, but soon enough he had his horse saddled and was on his way with a newfound determination. He would reach his castle by nightfall.

"Send for Maester Luwin!" Robb shouted at the servant girl. The poor girl ran frightened into the hallway in the direction of the Maester's chambers. Robb hadn't a chance to feel guilty as Jon screamed out in pain. He raced back to his brother's side just as Jon began to tear at his wounds. Black liquid oozed from them, just as it had that first night. Suddenly Jon began to gasp for breath.

Robb grasped his brother's shoulders and pulled him up against him as his brother struggled for breath.

"No." He whispered. "NO!" He looked around for anything that may help but of course there was nothing. He returned his attention back to Jon, clinging to him desperately.

"Breathe, Jon. Breathe" Still his brother gasped and choked. "Come on, Jon! Breathe!" He could feel the tears burning in his eyes. Jon gripped his pants in a tight fist, as if desperately clinging to an anchor to the world. The only thing Robb could do was hold him tighter, repeating words that no longer held meaning over and over, praying his brother could hear him.

Time seemed frozen. Everything seemed to fade away except him and his brother. Finally Jon seemed to gasp out, his chest heaving violently as his breath hitched. It seemed less labored than it had before.

"That's it. That's it, Jon. Breathe. Breathe like me. Come on now" He tried to slow his own breathing, hoping Jon would follow suit. Soon his grasp on his leg loosened and he relaxed into his brother's hold. Robb himself sighed in mild relief, though he somehow knew this was not the end.

He had just laid Jon back down when Maester Luwin burst through the door.

"What happened?" He asked Robb as he began to examine his brother.

"The black liquid began to pour from his wounds again. And for a moment he stopped breathing." Robb explained. He leaned against the wall for support, suddenly feeling weak and lightheaded from the stress. Maester Luwin looked at him with a critical eye and nodded to the chair beside the bed.

"Sit, boy. You look as if a breeze might blow you over." Robb did as he was told.

"Whatever it was, it seems to have passed for now. He is very weak, however. And his fever has grown in intensity." Maester Luwin frowned and stood. He looked at Robb once more.

"I will brew a tea that might bring his fever down. Beyond that, there is little I can do." Robb let that sink in, nodding at the maester.

"Has there been word from my father?"

"Aye. He is on his way back to the castle. If the Gods are good, he may return by morning. Perhaps within the night." Robb nodded.

"Let us hope it is sooner rather than later."

"Aye, my lord." And with that, Robb was once again alone with his half-brother.

Ned arrived at the gates of Winterfell just as the moon was reaching its highest point. To his frustration, the heavy wooden doors were shut.

"Who goes there?" A man called out from overhead.

"Eddard Stark, lord of this castle. Open the gate!" Ned called out in return. He heard a scrambling above him as the men did as he bid.

The doors opened slowly. Much too slowly for Ned. He burst through as soon as the opening was large enough for his horse. Men gathered around him as he dismounted in the courtyard. One of them came to take his horse to the stables.

"Welcome home, M'lord" A man he recognized as Jory's second in command greeted him grimly. "I wish it was under better circumstances" He walked with Ned in the direction of the castle.

"Tell me what has happened." Ned inquired.

"Snow ran off into the Wolfswood. By the time we realized something was wrong he had already been attacked. The boys found him the next morning, half dead with two arrows imbedded in his chest. Maester Luwin says the only reason he survived the night was that wolf of his."

"Are there any leads of who might have done this?" Ned asked as they entered the castle.

"No, my lord. Only the arrows. Nasty things, I've never seen anything like them." That gave Ned pause and he turned to the man.

"What do you mean?" The man opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted as Maester Luwin entered the corridor.

"My lord! You have returned, and not a moment too soon!" The man was pale, and for the first time since Ned had known him, he looked his years.

"Tell me, how is my son?" Ned asked, barely able to keep the desperation and fear from his voice.

"The boy is resting now, but I fear he grows weaker by the hour. Robb is with him now. He has not left the boy's side since the incident." Ned smiled despite himself. The boys had always been close. He followed Maester Luwin up the stairs to Jon's bedchamber, afraid of what he would see there.

He hesitated for a moment before opening the door, gathering his strength, then pushed his way into Jon's room. Candles had been lit, the flames flickering with the breeze caused by his entrance. Robb sat in the chair beside the bed. His head was bowed, resting on the hand he grasped so tightly in his own, his eyes were closed tightly as if he were praying. He hadn't noticed him yet.

Ned stepped into the room, the floor creaking with his movement and Robb looked up.

"Father." The relief in his face and voice was palpable.

"Robb." Ned nodded to his son, taking in his appearance. The boy looked exhausted, to say the least. His hair was uncombed, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes that suggested he hadn't slept in days. Knowing his son, he probably hadn't. Ned walked over to the bed and stood over Jon.

His son was extremely pale, making the dark hair that clung to his face seem darker. The blanket was up to his chest. Ned drew it down to examine the wounds he knew were hiding beneath. They were angry looking: red and ragged. He hissed in a breath at the sight, muttering a curse under his breath.

"The stitches dissolved when we tried to close them. Maester Luwin believes it is something to do with the poison from the arrows." Robb sounded weary, but there was anger in his voice as well that didn't go unnoticed by his father.

"How did this happen?" He asked his son. Robb looked away then. He was quiet for a long time. Ned was about to ask again when his son finally broke the silence, still refusing to meet his gaze.

"It was my fault." His voice was heavy with emotion he refused to show. "We were arguing. I said things I didn't mean. Terrible things." Robb sighed before he continued. "He ran off. I thought he had gone to the Godswood, but then he didn't show up to supper. We searched everywhere but couldn't find him until the next morning. He-"Again Robb fell silent as he looked at his brother. "He had been shot in the chest and stabbed in the side. I thought he was dead at first…"

Ned looked Robb and saw the pain in his eyes. He reached over and grasped the boy's shoulder.

"But he wasn't. And he isn't now. You are not to blame for your brother's circumstances." Robb stared at him for a long moment before he nodded. Ned squeezed his shoulder reassuringly before turning back to Jon. He placed his hand on the boy's forehead, frowning at the heat he found there.

"Jon." He called softly. There was no response, not that he had expected one. Still…he had hoped…

"Jon, my son, can you hear me?" Jon still made no reply, no sign that he had heard him at all. "Will you not open your eyes and greet your father?" Ned sighed, smoothing his son's hair and brushing a strand out of his face.

"Maester Luwin, show me these arrows." He turned to the maester, who nodded in return.

"Of course, my lord. They are in my chambers." He led the way through the door and down the hall. Ned moved to follow him but stopped and turned back to Robb.

"I want you to get some sleep." He said softly. Robb began to protest, but he held up his hand. "I know you haven't slept since this occurred. I understand why. But he is not alone now, and you are no use to him dead on your feet." After a long moment of silence, Robb sighed and nodded.

"Yes, father." He turned to leave the room and hesitated at the door, glancing one last time at Jon before turning to his father. "Do not stay away long, father. He is so weak, and whatever torments him in his dreams drains his strength even further." Ned nodded and watched as Robb left the room. He glanced back at Jon sadly. He was all too familiar with what haunted his son's dreams.

So now that chapter 7 is finally up, I feel you all deserve an explanation of my unfortunately long absence. There are many factors, technically, but the biggest one was the unexpected loss of one of my dearest friends. We had been friends since I was a freshmen at college after he literally saved me from a horrible experience and quite possibly my life. I can not explain in words how deeply he meant to me, because it is extremely complicated, but he was one of the biggest supporters of my writing, and he was the one who originally pressured me to actually write this particular baby up. We had been discussing becoming something more than the best friends we already were when he was killed by a car crossing the street. The woman was texting and driving and didn't even stop after she had hit him. I didn't even know it had happened until his sister called me up 3 days later telling me her family had decided to take him off life support that morning. Needless to say I did not take it well. I went through one of the darkest times in my life and sitting down to write up this chapter of a story that he was so supportive of was so overwhelming that I honestly couldn't do it for months. I am still not completely over it, I don't think I ever will be completely over it, but the pain has lessened and I'm trying to get my life back together and do things that I love because it would have been what he would have wanted for me. So really, this chapter, and this story for that matter, are dedicated to him. I want you all to know that while this has been the hardest and darkest time of my life, your wonderful reviews and PMs have been keeping me going. I can't stress enough how much I have appreciated them and I ultimately wanted to get this chapter up for you because you all deserve it. Thank you. SO MUCH. Now a little bit about this chapter:

So this chapter was a very difficult chapter to write which was one of the other reasons it has taken so long. I have many scenes for this story written out already, but piecing them together has proven to be harder than I had anticipated. There were a few things that I wanted to add to this chapter, however for one reason or another, they just didn't fit here. In a way it's a good thing because it gives me a solid footing to start the next chapter with.

I hadn't originally planned to add Theon's scene, but he has been swirling in the back of my head working on a plot of his own for the better part of five months now, so I thought I would try him out. I have always found him to be such an interesting character. He is one that I hate and pity at the same time because while he is making all of the wrong decisions, you can sort of see where he is coming from. My personal favorite part of this chapter however happened to be Ned's flashback with Jon. It is actually one of the very first scenes that I thought of before even starting this story, so I am glad that it made it into the story as I wasn't sure I would keep it during the editing process. But, in the end, I decided it should stay, if for no other reason than to see little Jon and Ned having a Father/ Son moment. They had so few of those in the show and the book. I hope I did it justice.

I think that is mostly all I really wanted to say right now. I've started the next chapter, however I am back in school for my masters, so I can only write in my very limited free time. I refuse to promise when I will have the next chapter up since obviously my last attempts at that failed miserably. I hope you can forgive me. I hope it doesn't take as long as this one did, but who knows. Just know that I have absolutely NO DESIRE to discontinue this story. If my plans change, I will make sure to say as much on my profile page. For those of you that left anonymous reviews inquiring about the story and worrying that it was abandoned, you can't imagine how much it killed me to not be able to let you know otherwise. I reply to all of my reviews, so if you would like me to do the same for those of you that do not have an account on here, feel free to leave me an email address or something so I can let you know. And again, thank you SO MUCH for your patience. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. As much of a pain as it was to write, it felt good to be back :) Please let me know what you think! And I hope to see you next chapter!

~Howlet