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Chapter Text

I do not own A Song Of Ice and Fire by GRR Martin. No copyright infringement was intended.

Ned had never liked stairs. As he reached the top of the staircase that led to the ravenry, he swore softly as he caught his breath. Someone should really clean up here, he thought, making a mental note to mention it to one of the maids. He looked around for any letters that might have arrived with more news from King’s Landing. The recent news of Jon Arryn’s illness and resulting death bothered him more than he cared to admit. Jon had almost been a surrogate father to him and Robert at the Eyrie, a constant, calming presence in the Seven Kingdoms.

It was strange to think that Jon was dead. He knew in his heart that the Lannister woman had something to do with it. Jon had been an old man, true, but no one succumbs to a strange fever after less than twenty four hours… right?

Ned was shaken out of his thoughts by a brown package lying on the floor underneath the window. It looked very large and heavy, but the several ravens that must have delivered it were nowhere to be seen. There was no note or sigil. Curious, Ned thought. Frowning slightly, he picked the package up and turned it around in his hands. Upon opening the package, he found five books unlike any he had ever seen before. They were much smaller than usual, with a queer, thin cover and a colourful, intricate picture on each book. There were no titles, but the books were numbered from 1 to 5. As he opened the book titled 1, a small piece of parchment fluttered to the floor.

Lord Stark,

Please read these books together with Lady Catelyn Stark, as well as your four oldest children, Robb, Sansa, Arya and Bran, and Jon Snow. They contain vital information about the coming wars, and are essential to your family’s survival and happiness. The information is yours to deal with at your discretion. Do not let anyone else know that you are in possession of these books.

Sincerely,

A friend

Arya’s stitches were crooked again. Trying not to stare at Sansa’s stupid perfect pattern, she looked sullenly out the window. Sunlight entered the dim room through the window, and Arya longed to be outside, practicing archery with Jon and Robb, or maybe spending time with her new direwolf, Nymeria. She didn’t understand why girls had to sit primly inside doing embroidery and needlework, while boys were free to run around outside, getting dirty and laughing and actually having fun. Gods knew Arya was awful at this anyway, why prolong her torture unnecessarily?

Her mind made up, Arya was opening her mouth to excuse herself from the lessons, when her mother walked in.

Arya was shocked. Mother never interrupted embroidery lessons! With an apologetic smile at the Septa, Mother turned to Arya and Sansa. “Come with me, girls. Your father’s expecting you in his study.”

With that, mother turned to leave and Sansa quickly got up to follow.

“Why?” Arya couldn’t help but ask. “Is it something urgent? Are we in trouble?”

“Honestly, Arya, be quiet and stop asking so many questions!” Sansa hissed under her breath. “I’m sure we’ll find out whatever it is when we get to Father’s study.”

As Mother opened the door, Arya saw that Robb, Jon and Bran were already there, waiting for them. A strange pile of books, such that Arya had never seen before, was on the table behind them. Father was already moving to stand up, a grim expression on his face. “I am sure you are all sufficiently confused. I will keep my explanation short. As some of you are aware, yesterday I happened upon a package containing five books in the ravenry. They have no title, but a note was hidden with them.”

He read the note aloud.

“I believe it is in our best interests to read these books as quickly as possible. I have already arranged for a maid to take care of Rickon while we are occupied. He is much too young to understand this. If we spend a few hours reading each day, we should be able to finish them within reasonable time.”

Arya was lost for words. This had been the absolute last thing she had expected when being called to Father’s study. What kinds of books were they? Who had sent them? How could Father trust that these were true? Were they from the future? The questions were whirling around her head.

Arya looked around to see that the rest of her family had similar expressions on their faces. No one knew what to say. When Mother finally found her voice, she said: “How can you trust that these books tell the truth? What if they are only someone’s idea of a cruel jape?”

“I believe that this person is intending to help us,” Father replied heavily. “But I suggest reading only a few chapters at first to check whether they are accurate. If I am not mistaken, these books will begin a short time ago in our past, and will go on to describe events that would have happened if we had not been sent the books.”

Arya slowly nodded. This made sense to her.

Robb cleared his throat. “Well,” he began hesitantly, “Should we begin reading? As we only have one copy of these books, it would probably be for the best to take turns reading aloud, would it not?”

Father looked around solemnly. “Very well, if we are agreed, let us begin. I shall read first if no one has any objection.”

With that, Father opened the first book and started reading.

Chapter Text

I do not own A Song Of Ice and Fire by GRR Martin. No copyright infringement was intended.

“The book begins with a prologue,” Ned said, flipping through the pages. Clearing his throat, he started reading aloud, the eyes of his family on him.

Gared is urging his companions to head back, saying that the wildlings are dead.

“The wildlings… Are these men members of the Night’s Watch?” asked Jon quietly. He was very interested in joining the Night’s Watch when he was old enough. “When do you think this is set, Lord Stark?”

“I do not know, Jon,” Ned replied. “I am sure we’ll find out if we continue, though.”

Ser Waymar Royce asks Gared if the dead frighten him but Gared does not rise to the bait, saying that Will saw them, and that’s proof enough for him.

“Ser Waymar Royce!” Sansa says, finding her voice for the first time. “He stayed at Winterfell a few months ago with his father, didn’t he? On his way to the Wall?”

“Yes, I believe you’re right,” Catelyn said. “So this must have happened quite recently, then.” She looked suspicious. “Why are we reading about the Night’s Watch? I thought this was about our family’s future?”

“I assume something important is about to happen,” Ned said. He didn’t want to start an argument about Jon at that time.

Will wants to stay out of the quarrel but mentions how his mother said that ‘Dead men sing no songs.’

Bran was confused. “What does that mean?” he asked the room at large.

It was Robb who answered. “Will is saying that you can’t find out any information from a dead man, and he thinks they should go back instead of following those men, as they won’t learn anything new from them.”

“Alright, that makes sense, thank you,” Bran smiled.

Their voices are too loud in the silent forest, and they have eight or nine days of riding before them. Night is falling.

Arya shivered. “This doesn’t sound good,” she said, looking nervous. Jon reached over and ruffled her hair to try and calm her down.

Ser Waymar Royce continues to antagonize an increasingly annoyed Gared who was not used to being made fun of after forty years in the Night’s Watch.

“He spent forty years in the Night’s Watch?” Bran said. “That’s a very long time. He must be an amazing fighter.”

Ned suddenly realised something. “The deserter from a few weeks ago…” he looked at Catelyn. “I believe he was called Gared as well. Do you think they’re the same person?”

“Possibly,” she replied. “How many men named Gared can there be in the Night’s Watch?”

Ned shook his head softly and continued reading. He hoped selfishly that they wouldn’t find out the true reason for Gared’s desertion, if this was indeed the same person. Desertion meant penalty of death, and unfortunately there was no way around that.

Will feels that there is something watching them, something cold and implacable. He doesn’t trust the commander enough to share his doubts, as Ser Waymar Royce is eighteen, inexperienced and arrogant. The men laugh at Royce in the barracks, and Will reflects that it is hard to take orders from a man you make fun of in your free time.

“That might be true,” Ned said, “but I hope he decides to tell Royce anyway. People need to be able to depend on each other in situations like these.”

Robb, Jon, Arya and Bran looked at their father, fascinated. He very rarely shared stories from his time as a soldier during the Rebellion, and they were eager for any small snippet of information that he felt comfortable sharing.

Noticing their stares, he quickly continued reading.

Will recounts the tale of how he found the dead wildlings to Ser Waymar, and how there was no blood.

“It might have been frostbite,” Jon said. “It must get freezing in the lands beyond the wall.”

Gared thinks they must have died from the cold, describing how he lost several fingers and an ear to frostbite over the years.

Ned nodded grimly. So it was the same person.

Ser Royce says it wasn’t cold enough for them to freeze to death, as the Wall was weeping, and orders them to investigate.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Sansa said, “but what does it mean that the Wall was weeping? Is some of the ice melting?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Ned answered. “We are nearing the end of a very long summer, so even at the Wall, where it snows regularly, the temperatures are often mild enough for the outermost layer of the Wall to begin melting.”

Night has fallen and the moon is rising. The three dismount and continue on foot, and Ser Waymar orders them not to light a fire despite the probable presence of direwolves and bears and… other things.

Bran bit his lip in an attempt not to interrupt. Was this what Old Nan had told him about? He hoped these people would be alright, but didn‘t voice his worry. He didn‘t want Robb and Jon to know he was nervous.

When they arrive at the scene, the dead bodies are gone. The three men split up to investigate, when Will sees pale shapes gliding through the wood. A tall shape is standing in front of Royce, gaunt with flesh as pale as milk, and Royce is afraid, his voice cracking like a boy’s.

Now the whole family was on the edge of their seats, not wanting break the silence.

Jon was deeply repulsed by the pale shape but was also weirdly fascinated. What was that thing? Was Royce going to be alright?

Was this one of the fabled Others?

In the Other’s hand is a faintly shimmering, translucent longsword that looks sharper than any razor. Ser Waymar meets him bravely, saying “Dance with me then,” and they start fighting.

“That’s brave,” Arya breathed, not taking her eyes off the book.

Will thinks that in that moment Royce is no longer a boy, but a man of the Night’s Watch.

Ned smiled grimly. If this truly was an Other, all men know there is no hope for survival. So Royce was going to go down fighting then.

They are surrounded by Others, who are silently watching, making no move to interfere. Ser Waymar continues to fight bravely, but is tiring and sustains an injury after failing to parry a blow.

Sansa collapsed softly in her seat, not wanting to hear about this young man’s death. The silence in the room, apart from the steady tone of her father’s voice, was deafening.

The Other mocks Royce in a language Will does not understand.

Robb and Jon shared a look. So they have their own language? What else don’t people know about these mythical creatures? Is there any hope of defeating them?

Ned had paused briefly at yet another new piece of information, but quickly continued reading.

Royce finds his fury, and resumes fighting, shouting: “For Robert!” But his sword shatters and Royce starts shrieking.

Sansa shook her head in denial, eyes closed tightly. She didn’t want to hear this, this was too horrible, why had these books come to them?

Robb, noticing her distress, reached over and gently squeezed her hand. He smiled at her softly. Sansa took a deep breath in a visible attempt to calm down.

Will covers his eyes, unable to watch. A long time passes until Will finds the courage to look again, and the clearing below is empty.

Jon barely had time to wonder what had happened to the rest of the creatures when Ned’s voice filled the room again.

Royce’s body is facedown in the snow. He looks young in death, and Will remembers that he was just a boy.

Sansa and Bran had tears in their eyes, though Bran wiped at them quickly with his hands. Catelyn was smiling grimly. It was always strange to hear about the death of someone you had known, no matter how briefly.

Will takes the broken sword with him as proof for Maester Aemon and the old bear Mormont. As Will rises quickly to find his horse, Ser Waymar Royce stands over him.

“What?” several people exclaimed.

“But he’s dead! He was just killed! How can this be?” Arya asked fiercely, staring at her father in accusation. No one had an answer for her.

His right eye is open, and the iris turns blue. It sees.

“Is he an Other now, too?” Bran asked softly.

Will drops the broken sword, closing his eyes to pray. Long elegant hands touch his cheek, and grip his throat. The touch is icy cold.

“That’s the end of the prologue,” Ned said.

Sansa wiped the tears away, asking: “Is Will dead now, too? What are these things? I thought the Others were tales made up to frighten children?”

“So did we all, Sansa,” Robb replied gently. “It appears we were wrong.”

Catelyn finally found her voice. “But we still aren’t even sure that this is real! Maybe someone is just playing a joke, waiting to see how long we would keep going. How do we know whether someone made all of this up or not?”

Ned considered the question. “I see your point, my Lady, and would even be inclined to agree with you, but… there are too many accurate details. Catelyn, you remember Royce from his stay at Winterfell. His personality was exactly the same. And the description of Gared’s injuries, and of the Wall, and everything was very precise and detailed. If this truly is a jape, it took a lot of time and effort to research.”

The Starks looked at each other, at a loss of how to move forward.

It was Jon who spoke. “Lord Stark, the note you received said that this would tell you your family’s future. What if we withhold our judgement on whether we trust these books or not until we have read something about Winterfell or your family that no outsider could possibly know? Then these books will have to be real.”

Robb smiled at Jon, saying: “I agree. The information so far has been very unbelievable, but the facts about the Wall must have been quite simple to find out. If this book can describe our private conversations or thoughts in future chapters, we can trust that it is telling the truth.”

Ned rose from his chair, holding the book in his hand.

“Alright, then. If we all agree, let’s read one more chapter before we make our final decision.”

He looked around the room. “Who would like to read now?”

Catelyn held her hand out. “I can read the next chapter, if there are no objections.”

Turning to the correct page, she began reading.

Chapter Text

As Catelyn found the correct page, her eyes widened in surprise.

“This chapter is just called ‘Bran’,” she said. She looked at her son. “I believe this will be telling the story from your point of view.”

His siblings looked at Bran with interest.

Bran smiled, saying: “I wonder if it’s accurate or not! Do you think the whole book is in my point of view or just this chapter?”

Ned replied: “From the sounds of it, it is only this chapter. After all, if this chapter is literally called ‘Bran’, it is probably safe to assume that other chapters would be named after other people.”

Bran nodded. “That makes sense. I want to know what happens though, so can you please read, Mother?”

The morning is cold and clear, hinting at the end of summer.

“Alright, so this is around the same time as we are in now. I wonder if this has already happened – provided it’s true, of course.” Robb said.

Bran is nervous with excitement, as this is the first time he is old enough to accompany his father and brothers to see a man beheaded.

“Then this must be the Night’s Watch deserter... Gared, was it? That was only a few weeks ago!” Jon said, leaning forward with interest.

It is the ninth year of summer and Bran is seven years old.

Bran listened to his mother intently, excited to hear his own thoughts being written down. He really hoped that this book was real, and not just a joke.

Robb thinks the man is a wildling, which makes Bran’s skin prickle. Old Nan’s tales describe wildlings as cruel men, slavers and slayers and thieves, who drink blood from polished horns.

But the man is old and thin, and had lost both ears and one finger to frostbite.

“This seems accurate so far…” Jon murmured.

“We should wait for conversations before judging, though, shouldn’t we?” Robb said.

“Anyone could have known that there was a Night’s Watch deserter from tales.”

He is dressed all in black like a brother of the Night’s Watch, and his clothes are ragged and greasy.  Bran’s father orders the man to be dragged before them.  Robb and Jon sit tall on their horses, and Bran on his pony tries to seem older than seven, pretending he has seen something like this before.

Bran looked down, uncomfortable with his brothers finding out these insecurities. Jon looked at Bran with a concerned expression on his face.

Bran’s father is solemn, with long brown hair, and he looks older than thirty-five.

Ned glared at his son playfully.

His grey eyes are grim, and Bran struggles to see the man who sits before the fire in the evening to tell his children stories of the age of heroes and the children of the forest. Bran thinks that Father has taken off Father’s face, and is now wearing the face of the Lord of Winterfell.

The other children nodded, smiling, knowing this feeling well.

Guards force the ragged man’s head down onto a hard ironwood stump.
Theon Greyjoy brings Eddard Stark his sword “Ice.”

Robb frowned as he remembered something he had been meaning to ask for a while.

“Father, do you know why Theon wasn’t invited to join us in this reading? He should know his future as well, shouldn’t he?”

“I confess I don’t actually know the reason. I am just following the instructions of the letter, hoping that everything will be explained soon. So far everything described has been accurate, hasn’t it? I’m assuming as we go on, we’ll understand why it would be better for Theon not to know what is happening,” Ned replied, looking thoughtful.

Robb was far from satisfied with this answer but let the subject go.

The sword is even taller than Robb and is made from Valyrian steel.
Bran’s father says: “In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon […] I sentence you to die.”

Sansa, who had been listening silently until now, struggled to hide her discomfort at these descriptions to her family. Arya looked over at her tense sister and rolled her eyes.

Jon Snow moves closer to Bran, whispering that Bran should not look away. Father will know if he does.

Jon’s eyes widened in shock. “How did they get every detail right? No one but me and Bran heard that conversation!”

No one had an answer for him, and the whole family was on edge as Catelyn continued reading, anxious to hear everything.

Bran does not look away.

His father takes off the head with a single stroke.

Sansa flinched. She hated hearing about her calm, kind father like this.

Blood sprays out across the snow, and a horse threatens to bolt.

Bran can’t take his eyes off the blood, watching as the snow around the tree stump turns red.

Robb looked over at his younger brother with concern. He hoped Bran was handling reliving the memory alright.

The head rolls near Theon Greyjoy’s feet. Theon is a ward of Winterfell, nineteen years old, who finds everything amusing. He kicks the head away, laughing.

Catelyn’s voice was tinged with anger. Ward or not, Theon needed to learn appropriate behaviour for these situations as soon as possible.

Bran’s bastard brother Jon

Here, Catelyn’s voice grew tense again.

calls Theon an ass, and puts his hand on Bran’s shoulder, saying that Bran did well. Jon is fourteen years old and has seen justice many times before.

Jon smiled softly, strangely pleased at Bran’s high opinion of him.

It seems colder as Bran rides back to Winterfell with his brothers, well ahead of the main party. Robb says that the man died bravely.

Jon rolled his eyes as this old argument was brought up again.

“He did die bravely, though!” Robb said.

Arya laughed. “We know, Robb, you’ve made your point.”

Robb is big and broad with his mother’s fair colouring, red-brown hair and Tully blue eyes.

Catelyn looked at her first-born son with pride she read the description, smiling softly.

He adds that the man had courage, at least.

Jon disagrees quietly, saying that it was not courage. This one was dead of fear – you could see it in his eyes.

Jon has dark grey eyes, and there is little that he does not see. He is the same age as Robb, but looks very different.

Catelyn was uncomfortable at this reminder, but said nothing, choosing to continue reading.

Jon is slender while Robb is muscular, graceful and quick while his half-brother is strong and fast.

Arya was confused. “Wait… what’s the difference between quick and fast? Isn’t that the same thing?”

The others considered the question, realizing she had a point.

“Well,” Ned replied slowly, “I suppose quick has more of a sense of being alert and able to see and do things in a short amount of time, whereas fast is more the idea of exercise… being able to run fast, for example.”

Arya nodded in understanding as Robb and Jon looked at each other and smiled, satisfied with this explanation of their traits.

“Shall I continue now?” Catelyn asked the room at large. Receiving no objection, she returned to the book.

Robb is not impressed and repeats that the man died well, before racing Jon to the bridge, laughing.  Bran does not try to follow, knowing that his pony can’t keep up with his brothers’ horses.

“Bran,” Robb said quietly. “I just wanted to apologize if we ever make you feel left out. I know we didn’t mean to.”

Bran smiled softly. “That’s alright, Robb, I don’t mind.”

Robb looked like he wanted to say something else, but restrained himself. He didn’t want to hold up the reading even further.

He is thinking about the man’s eyes as Robb’s laughter dies away and the forest grows silent.

Bran was still amazed at the way this chapter had managed to record every one of his thought processes so accurately. How did it work? There was no doubt in Bran’s mind that magic was somehow involved, but he kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want his siblings or parents to not take him seriously.

He is deep in thought as his father rides up beside him, who asks him not unkindly whether Bran is well.

Bran blinks as his family looked at him with concern. They knew it couldn’t be easy for a seven-year-old to process an execution.

“Truly, I am fine.” Bran said, smiling reassuringly.

Yes Father, Bran says, looking up at his father who seems to Bran like a giant, wrapped up in furs and leathers, mounted on a great warhorse.
Bran tells him that Robb thinks the man died bravely but Jon says he was afraid.
When Bran asks if a man can still be brave if he’s afraid, his lord father replies that that is the only time a man can be brave.

Arya listened intently to her father’s words. I wish I was a boy, she thought. Father never says anything like this to me, and I’m two years older!

His father asks if Bran knows why he had to kill the man himself. Bran does not have an answer, and Father explains that our way is the old way. While King Robert has a paid henchman, Bran’s father says that he believes “The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.”

If you can’t bear to look a man into the eyes and hear his final words, then maybe the man does not deserve to die.

Robb nodded as his mother read this aloud. He hoped he would one day be as brave and honourable as his father.

He goes on to say that one day Bran will be Robb’s bannerman and must not enjoy the task, but also not shy away from justice. A ruler with paid executioners soon forgets what death is.

At that moment, Jon reappears, shouting that Robb has found something.

“Is this when you found the direwolves?” Sansa asked, sounding excited.

“Yes, I think so,” Robb said, grinning in anticipation.

Robb is standing on the riverbank, cradling something in his arms.

Jory Cassel and Theon Greyjoy are the first to reach the boys, and Bran can hear Theon’s breath go out of him as Theon reaches for his sword.

Robb grins, looking up from the bundle in his arms, saying that she is dead and can’t hurt them.

“Who is dead?” Arya asked. Her brothers had never told her the exact details of how they found the wolves, and she was immensely curious to find out. “Is it their mother?”

Bran is extremely curious by then, and jumps off his horse at his father’s command, running towards them.

Robb says that it’s a wolf, and Greyjoy calls it a freak.

“Don’t call direwolves freaks!” Arya said indignantly.

“Arya…” her father reminded her. “Let your mother read.”

A huge dark shape is buried in the snow. Ice clings to it’s fur, and Bran can see maggots in its blind eyes and yellow teeth. It is bigger than Bran’s pony.

Sansa’s eyes widened further and further at this description. She hated maggots, and the corpse sounded disgusting. The size sounded exciting, though. She hoped Lady would one day be as big as a pony.

Jon says calmly that it isn’t a freak, but a direwolf, even though no one has seen a direwolf south of the wall in two hundred years.

As Bran is tearing his eyes away from the monster, he gives a cry of delight as he notices the bundle still in Robb’s arms and moves closer.

Bran’s eyes lit up at the memory.

It is a tiny pup with grey black fur, nuzzling blindly against Robb’s chest in a search for milk.

“They were so cute and helpless,” Bran said softly.

Sansa smiled. “They’re incredible. I’m so glad you found them!”

Bran gives the pup a nervous stroke as Jon puts a second pup into Bran’s arms, saying that there are five of them. Bran hugs the pup to his face as his father examines the mother trying to find out what killed her.

“What did kill her?” Catelyn asked. “I don’t believe you ever said.”

“It was a broken antler stuck in her throat. I suppose there must have been a fight.” Ned replied.

Catelyn nodded in understanding, and continued reading.

Robb seems proud to know the answer, saying that there’s something in her throat.

Father looks and finds a broken antler, covered in blood. No one dares to speak as the men look at each other uneasily.

Bran can sense their fear but does not understand.

He still did not understand, but decided against asking. He didn’t want to bring back the tension unnecessarily.

His father throws away the antler, breaking the spell.

The men start talking again, saying it’s bad luck to be born with the dead, a sign, and Theon Greyjoy agrees that the sooner the pups are dead, the better.

Arya’s eyes flashed in anger. “How dare he? He can’t just kill them! Tell me you stopped him!”

“Arya, calm down,” Jon said. “Do you think they would be here if we hadn’t stopped them? It’s alright, they’re safe.”

“It’s still not right,” she grumbled, but looked at her mother silently, asking her to continue.

Bran gives a wordless cry of dismay as Theon draws his sword, reaching for Bran’s pup.

Bran is fiercely protective, saying the pup is his. Robb agrees, telling Theon to put away his sword.

Bran looks to his father for rescue, but his father is still hesitant, wanting a swift death for the pups rather than cold and starvation.

Bran repeats “No!” and looks away. He does not want to cry in front of his father.
Robb also resists stubbornly but the men are not convinced.

The family is on the edge of their seats, waiting to hear how this will be resolved.

Jon speaks up, and Bran looks at him with desperate hope.

Bran smiled at Jon with gratitude. “Thank you, Jon, honestly. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t spoken up.”

Jon smiled back, slightly embarrassed at the attention.

Jon is saying that there are five pups, three male, two female. Lord Stark has five true born children – three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of House Stark and they were meant to have these pups.

Arya’s eyes widened at the realization and she squeezed Jon’s hand in gratitude.

Catelyn was very uncomfortable reading this, but she saw how close they were to the end of the chapter and continued without comment.

Bran sees his father’s face change, and loves Jon with all his heart in that moment.

Jon’s heart soared at this outpouring of love and acknowledgement from his siblings. Even Lady Catelyn’s chilly tone of voice couldn’t dampen his mood as he smiled one of his rare genuine smiles.

Even at seven, Bran can understand what his brother had done, that the count was right only because Jon had omitted himself. He had included the girls, even Rickon the baby, but not the bastard who has the name Snow.

His father is looking thoughtful, and Robb quickly promises to care for the pup himself.

“And you are doing that very well,” Ned acknowledged. “I can see how much time and effort all of you are putting into the wolves.”

His children swelled with pride. They all loved their wolves fiercely.

Bran agrees with Robb, and his father finally gives permission, warning his sons to train them well and not waste the servants’ time.
They all mount, and are halfway across the bridge when Jon pulls up suddenly, as he can hear something.

“Was that Ghost?” Arya whispered. Jon nodded, not taking his eyes off the book.

Bran listens and can’t hear anything except for the wind in the trees and the hooves of the horses.

He watches as Jon gallops back to the dead direwolf, and pick something up. When he comes back, he is smiling and carrying another pup in his arms. This one has white fur and is the only one to have opened his eyes, which are blood red.
Theon Greyjoy is amused, saying that the albino will die even faster than the others.

Jon gives Theon a long, chilling look and says that the pup won’t die, because he is Jon’s.

“That is the end of the chapter,” Catelyn announced, marking her page and closing the book. “What do you think? Was it accurate?”

Ned, Robb, Jon and Bran nodded.

“Every conversation, every detail of the surroundings, even my thought processes were perfect. There wasn’t a single mistake!” Bran said. “It was like magic, as though the person had just copied down my thoughts onto paper.”

“I agree,” Ned said. “From what I can remember, the conversations happened exactly the way they were described.”

The Starks fell into silence, as they considered the events.

It was Robb who spoke first. “I wonder how they did that? I mean, this is as though Bran had written the book himself, only even better! Do you think time travel is involved? Or mind reading of some sort? Does the author have the Sight?”

“I’m afraid there is no way of finding this out, unless the person who sent them chooses to tell us.” Ned replied.

Catelyn looked around the room. “Never mind all that, I think we have a more immediate question to answer. Will we trust that these books tell the truth? Will we continue reading?”

“I think we should. If everything had been accurate so far, even though it was meant to be impossible, I don’t see why they would choose to lie now. I say we continue,” Ned said. “Should we have a vote? Who believes we should continue?”

Everyone raised their hand.

“Very well, then. Let’s read one more chapter before taking a break. I am sure people are starting to wonder where we are.” Catelyn said. “Who would like to read next?”

Robb volunteered, taking the book from his mother’s hands.

Chapter Text

Robb found the correct page and paused as he saw the chapter title.

Looking up at his family, he said: “This chapter is called ‘Catelyn.’ It’s written from your point of view, mother.”

Catelyn was pleasantly surprised. She hadn’t expected a chapter named after herself, having assumed the book would be about her children.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked her eldest. “Start reading, Robb.”

Catelyn doesn’t like this godswood.

The atmosphere grew slightly tense as Catelyn realised what the chapter would be about.

She is a Tully, from Riverrun, and the godswood there is bright and airy, with birds, tinkling streams and wildflowers.

“It sounds beautiful, Mother,” Sansa said softly. “I should love to visit it someday.”

Catelyn smiled at her daughter. “Perhaps one day we’ll go there together.”

The one in Winterfell is dark and primal, ten thousand years old, smelling of moist earth. Thick black trunks grow close together, creating a place of deep silence and brooding shadows, and the gods here have no names.

Arya frowned. “It sounds kind of creepy when you put it like that.”

“It’s not creepy, Arya, it’s quiet place where you can go to calm down and pray,” Ned answered, smiling softly. He looked at his wife questioningly. He had known of her initial discomfort with the godswood, but had no idea her feelings were that severe.

Catelyn knows her husband will be here tonight, as he always goes to the godswood after taking a man’s life.

Bran sat up. “So this happened quite soon after you found the direwolves?” he asked.

“Yes, I think this conversation happened a bit later that day,” his father said.

Catelyn follows the faith of the Seven, and while her family does have a godswood like every big family, they reserve their worship for the sept.

For her sake, Ned had built her a small sept, but the blood of the First Men flows in the veins of the Starks, and his own gods are the old ones.

There is an ancient weirwood tree in the middle of the forest which Ned calls the heart tree, with white bark, dark red leaves, and a carved face that is melancholy and strangely watchful. It is older than Winterfell itself, and had been here long before Brandon the Builder had set the first stone, and was carved by the Children of the Forest.

The children listened to this solemnly, deeply aware of the history of their house and the ancient traditions.

The only heart trees left are in the North, as every heart tree in the South had long been cut down.

“That’s so sad,” Sansa breathed softly.

Ned smiled gently at his daughter. “Yes, it really is.”

Catelyn finds her husband cleaning his blade beneath the tree. She calls out his name softly.

Catelyn shook her head in disbelief. No matter how much her husband and sons had said that the book was accurate, she would never get used to the way her thoughts and actions were perfectly represented. It was a very weird feeling.

He lifts his head and replies in a formal tone, asking where the children are. She replies they are in the kitchen arguing about names for their wolf pups.

Robb laughed, remembering that conversation between his siblings. It was very strange to hear his parents have a private conversation so openly.

Sitting down, she can feel the eyes of the heart tree watching, but tries to ignore it. She tells Ned that Arya is already in love,

“Nymeria is amazing, of course I love her!” Arya interrupted.

Catelyn silenced her daughter with a look. “We know, Arya, but let your brother read.”

Sansa is charmed and gracious, but three year old Rickon is still unsure and a little afraid.

Jon had stayed silent so far, not wanting to draw attention to himself – he knew Lady Catelyn was not comfortable with his presence – but spoke up now. “You can’t blame Rickon for being afraid, though, he is only three, after all.”

Ned looked at his son, seeing his point, but said: “Yes, he’s three now, but he won’t be young forever. He needs to learn to face his fears.”

Ned frowns and says that he must learn to face his fears – he won’t be three forever and winter is coming.

Jon and Ned smiled at each other, hearing their conversation repeated.

Catelyn agrees and feels a chill travel down her spine at the Stark words.

The Starks were the only noble house with words that didn’t praise the house’s glory, honor or loyalty and courage. The Stark words are a warning. Winter is coming. Not for the first time Catelyn reflects on how strange northerners are.

Robb was surprised at reading his mother’s thoughts so openly. She never showed her feelings about being in the North to her children, and Robb felt a bit sorry for her. It must have been difficult for her, being so young and alone in a strange kingdom, with a husband she didn’t know and a religion she didn’t follow.

Ned says that the man died well. He tells Catelyn she would have been proud of Bran.

Bran swelled with pride at these words.

She replies that she is always proud of Bran.

Bran smiled widely at his mother, and she squeezed his hand gently. “It’s true, you know,” Catelyn told him. “You did very well.”

Catelyn watches Ned’s sword as he polishes it and is in awe of its beauty. She is not usually fond of swords but can’t deny that Ice is special – forged in Valyria, four hundred years ago, and the name is even older, a legacy from when the Starks were Kings in the North.

Ned looks grim, remarking that the man was the fourth this year, and half mad.

Ned shook his head in disappointment at himself. “We know now that’s not true. He wasn’t mad! Why didn’t we listen?”

“There was no way you could have known about what happened to him. What the man was saying sounded mad,” Catelyn reminded her husband. “What’s important is that we know the truth about the Others now.”

Ben writes that the Night’s Watch has less than a thousand members, not only due to desertions but also losing men on rangings.

Jon was listening to this information with rapt attention. He didn’t hear much information about the Night’s Watch, and if he was going to join them, he wanted to know as much about them as possible.

Ned adds that it can’t be anyone but the wildlings, and that it will only get worse. He may have to ride north with his bannermen to deal with this King-beyond-the-Wall once and for all.

Catelyn is afraid of Ned going north of the Wall, saying that there are darker things than Mance Raider out there.

“Father?” Sansa asked in a small voice. “You’re not planning on going north now, are you?”

“No Sansa, I’ll stay right here for the time being,” Ned reassured his daughter. He would need a different plan to deal with the Others, but wanted more information before making any decisions.

Ned smiles and tells her not to listen to Old Nan’s stories as the Others have been gone for eight thousand years, if they ever existed at all.

The Starks were shaking the heads in frustration. Listening to this conversation, knowing what they now knew was extremely difficult.

Catelyn reminds him of the direwolves from that morning, and that they had never been seen before either.

Ned smiles ruefully, saying he knows better than to argue with a Tully. He asks her what she has come out here to tell him.

Ned braced himself for the next line. The way these books replayed his private conversations sentence by sentence was a very strange sensation he doubted he would ever get used to.

Catelyn takes her husband’s hand, and tells him softly that Jon Arryn is dead.

Robb’s voice grew soft as he read those words. He knew how important Jon Arryn was to his father.

The news hit Ned hard, as he and Robert Baratheon had been fostered at the Eyrie with Jon Arryn, and he had gone to war with them to rise against the Mad King Aerys II, and Ned and this second father had married two Tully sisters fifteen years ago.

His children looked at their father with sympathy in their eyes. They had not yet lost anyone they loved, but could plainly see how sad their father was, even a few days after this conversation had taken place.

Catelyn tells him that the news had the King’s seal, and Lord Arryn was taken quickly, not lingering long in pain.

Her sister and nephew are well, and have returned to the Eyrie. Catelyn wishes they had gone to Riverrun, because the Eyrie is high and lonely, and her sister needs family and friends around her.

Ned urges Catelyn to go to her and take the children so that her sister and the boy aren’t alone in their grief.

Catelyn says she can’t, because the letter also said that Robert is coming to Winterfell.

The Starks looked at each other in dismay at this reminder.

“I completely forgot!” Catelyn exclaimed. “I was so involved with the books, I forgot the king was coming here.”

Ned struggled to stay calm as he searched for a solution. “We all didn’t remember, my lady. We can figure something out. He will arrive in a month, right?”

His wife nodded.

“Robb, you finish reading the chapter, and we can discuss our actions afterwards,” Ned decided.

It takes Ned a moment to believe it, but then the darkness leaves his eyes and he starts smiling.

Ned wished he could smile now.

Catelyn wishes she could be happy too, but can’t stop thinking about the tales of the dead direwolf with a broken antler in its throat. She forces herself to smile at the man she loves, who puts no faith in omens.

This thought did not help to raise the mood in the room.

“Do you think it was an omen, mother?” Sansa whispered. No one heard her question, and Robb continued reading.

She suggests they send a message to Ned’s brother at the Wall.

He agrees and stands up, pulling her to her feet. He complains that Robert couldn’t have given more notice after so many years of no contact, and asks how many will come.

Catelyn guesses around a hundred knights, with their retainers, and fifty freeriders, as well as Cersei and the children.

Ned says that they will travel slowly, then, which will give them more time to prepare.

The children calmed down a little at this reminder. They would have enough time to finish reading before the King arrived, surely, and wouldn’t have to worry about the future for a while yet.

He grimaces when he hears that the Queen’s brothers are also coming. Catelyn knows that there is no love lost between him and the Lannisters of Casterly Rock.

He says it sounds like Robert is bringing half his court, but it will be good to see the children, guessing that Prince Tommen must be five now? He was still suckling on that Lannister woman’s teat last time Ned saw him.

Sansa, Arya and Bran looked at their father in shock. They couldn’t believe he would say something like that about the queen, even as a jest.

He is seven, Catelyn corrects him, the same age as Bran. She warns him not to disrespect the Queen openly, as her pride is said to grow every year.

Ned squeezes her hand, telling her that there must be a feast with singers and a hunt. He will send an honourguard onto the Kingsroad to escort them. How will they feed them all? On his way already? Damn the man.

“Well, I can agree with that sentiment completely,” Ned said under his breath.

“That’s the end of the chapter,” Robb announced, closing the book loudly. He looked at his parents questioningly, waiting for their decision.

Ned finally spoke up. “Alright, so we have around a month before the King arrives. I say that we don’t tell anyone about the existence of these books. We all believe they speak the truth – all these details can’t be coincidence. We should be able to finish this book before then, and we can make a decision about our actions once we have more concrete information.”

Catelyn nodded. “That makes sense. For now, though, I say we take a break.”

Arya cheered loudly. Her brothers laughed, happy that the tension was broken.

“We meet in this room in two hours, after we have eaten something, and taken care of any affairs we need to. Now children, don’t tell anyone about this until we say it’s alright.” Ned warned.

They nodded seriously. Everyone knew how important this book was, and how dangerous it could be if it fell into the wrong person’s hands.

Robb stood up. “Come on,” he said to his siblings. “Let’s go to the kitchens and find some lunch.”

“Two hours!” Catelyn called after them, watching them leave the room.

She turned to her husband and sighed. “I really hope these books are worth this trouble.”

Ned nodded grimly. “I hope so too, my lady.”

Chapter Text

The break was much needed, and the children finally had a chance to laugh, play and relieve the tension. No one wanted to think about the books for a while. Nothing had happened yet that they hadn’t lived through already, but they were all too aware of the fact that the next chapter would take place in the future. How horrible was the world that someone wanted to change it? What had gone wrong?

These thoughts circled through everyone’s heads, no matter how much they tried to suppress them.

After some lunch, the Stark children got up and went their separate ways for a while, until the time came to return to Father’s study. As Robb turned a corner on his way back to the study, he was stopped by Theon.

“Hey, Robb,” Theon said, looking surprised. “I haven’t seen you since this morning. Where were you?”

Robb looked down, feeling awkward. “Sorry, Father wanted to spend some time with me, you know, to teach me more about my role as heir. I’m just on a short break right now, actually, I have to go back to his study soon.”

He hated lying to his best friend. “Talk to you later?”

Theon nodded, looking unsure, and left quickly.

Robb turned around, feeling guilty. Jon was watching him.

“Father told us not to tell anyone about the books,” Robb mumbled.

Jon smiled reassuringly at his brother. “I know, don’t worry. You’ll have to come up with a better excuse soon, though. Those books looked very thick. I doubt we’re going to finish them any time soon!”

They entered their father’s room to see the family already waiting for them, and sat down.

“Are we all ready?” Ned asked the room at large. Everyone nodded. “I have made excuses for you to the master at arms and Septa Mordane, don’t worry.”

He held the book up. “Who would like to read the next chapter?”

Jon looked around and held out his hand. “I can, if no one else wants to.”

Taking the book, he turned to the right page and read: “Daenerys.” Jon looked up, confused. “Who is she? Do we know her?”

Ned was surprised. “Unless I’m mistaken, this is Daenerys Targaryen. She was hiding in the free cities with her brother Viserys, last I heard. What does she have to do with this?”

Catelyn looked up sharply. “The Mad King’s daughter? Why do we have to read about her?”

No one had an answer. Finally, Jon spoke up softly. “This is a chapter in her point of view, so she must be important for us somehow. Should I start reading, and maybe we’ll find out what it is?”

Catelyn nodded begrudgingly, and Jon turned back to the book.

Her brother is holding up the gown for her inspection, telling her to feel the beautiful fabric.

“So she is still with her brother, then,” said Ned. He hadn’t had any real information about the Targaryen children since the rebellion, and very interested in finding out more.

Dany touches it, and it is smoother than any gown she could remember wearing, running through her fingers like water. It frightens her and she pulls her hand away.

Viserys smiles and says it was a gift from Magister Illyrio.

“Magister?” said Arya loudly. “What does that mean?”

“I believe it is a title given to rich and powerful people in the Free Cities,” Robb explained, and looked up to his father for confirmation. Ned nodded briefly, turning his attention back to Jon.

Her brother is in a good mood tonight. He goes on to describe the jewelry she will wear, saying that she must look like a princess tonight.

“I wonder what she is dressing up for,” Sansa said. “What could be so important?”
No one knew the answer, and Jon kept reading.

Dany asks why Illyrio gives them so much, and what he wants from them. They had been living in his house for half a year now.

Ned nodded, happy to get more information about their lives. He felt sorry for Daenerys, alone in exile with only her brother for company, but still… He would remember the name Illyrio. It might come in useful one day.

Dany is thirteen, old enough to now that gifts like these are rarely free, here in the free city of Pentos.

“She’s only thirteen?” Jon said, interrupting himself. “I’d have thought she’d be much older. She must have been born at the end of the rebellion, then?” He asked his father, ignoring Lady Catelyn’s chilly stare.

“Yes,” Ned answered. “She was born on Dragonstone shortly after the Rebellion.”

Jon nodded in understanding.

Viserys tells her that Illyrio is no fool. Viserys is a gaunt young man with a feverish look in his pale lilac eyes. He says that the magister knows Viserys won’t forget his friends when he claims the Iron Throne.

“Hopefully that works,” Arya muttered darkly. She already hated this Viserys person. He seemed very stupid.

Dany says nothing. She had heard that Magister Illyrio has friends in all nine Free Cities, and beyond. It was said he’d never had a friend he wouldn’t happily sell for the right price.

“Why are they staying there if she knows it’s not safe?” Bran asked his mother.

“They must not have many options,” Catelyn said. “It’s dangerous to have Targaryens under your roof in this political climate, even in the Free Cities.”

But Dany knows not to question her brother when he was in a good mood. His anger is a terrible thing when roused, which Viserys calls “waking the dragon.”

“He sounds horrible,” Sansa said. She had never met anyone who seemed so unpleasant before.

He tells Dany that slaves will come to bathe her, and that she should wash the smell of the stables off her to please Khal Drogo.

“I’m sorry for interrupting again,” Sansa said, “but who is Khal Drogo?”

Robb thought briefly. “Isn’t Khal the Dothraki title for a king?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Ned said. “They seem to be preparing to meet a Dothraki khal. I wonder what for… marriage, perhaps? Continue reading, Jon.”

He critically says that she still slouches. He pushes her shoulders back. He says she should let them see that she has a woman’s shape now.

Ned nodded briefly. It was marriage, then.

His hands brush over her breasts as he commands her not to fail him tonight. You don’t want to wake the dragon, do you? He asks, twisting a nipple cruelly hard.

Everyone’s eyes widened in shock and dismay.

“That is so inappropriate!” Catelyn gasped. “Isn’t he her brother?”

“Who would do something like that?” Robb asked, shocked at the casual display of cruelty.

Jon remained silent. He was feeling more and more sorry for this girl the further this chapter went on. To be consistently bullied and abused by a family member who was supposed to love you and take care of you – Daenerys’ life must have been horrible.

Dany says no meekly, and her brother smiles, walking out. Dany walks to the window and looks wistfully at the sea. Pentos is outlined black against the sun, and she can hear children playing games in the streets. For a moment, she wants to join them, barefoot and carefree, not having to worry about a future at Khal Drogo’s side.

Bran’s heart ached for Dany’s horrible circumstances. His own childhood so far had been perfect in comparison with hers – safe and surrounded by a loving and supportive family.

This chapter was surprisingly sad to read for the family, considering none of them had ever met Daenerys Targaryen before.

Across the narrow sea there is a land of green hills and great rushing rivers, with stone castles and blue-grey mountains, where armored knights go to battle beneath the banners of their lords.

The Dothraki called it Rhaesh Andali, the land of the Andals. In the Free Cities, it was called Westeros. Her brother just refers to it as “our land.”

It was like a prayer for Viserys. Taken from them by treachery, but theirs still, theirs forever. No one steals from the dragon.

The atmosphere in the room was very uncomfortable. It was strange to hear this opposite perspective on the Rebellion, especially coming from the family who had been overthrown. Viserys sounded crazed by anger, dangerously so.

Dany can’t remember this land. She had never seen Casterly Rock, or the Eyrie, Highgarden and the Isle of Faces – they are just words to her. Viserys had been eight years old when they fled King’s Landing from the Usurper, but Daenerys had still been in her mother’s womb.

But Viserys had told her stories, and sometimes Dany pictures them. The midnight escape to Dragonstone. Her brother Rhaegar battling the Usurper and dying for the woman he loved. The sack of King’s Landing by the lords Lannister and Stark, who Viserys called the Usurper’s dogs.

Robb was outraged by this, and started to speak up in protest, but Ned held up a hand to calm his son down.

Princess Elia pleading for mercy as her baby was murdered before her eyes. The Kingslayer murdering her father.

Dany’s mother had died on Dragonstone during her birth, as a storm raged outside. Viserys had never forgiven her.

The room was silent with the exception of Jon’s voice. No one had heard this version of the events of the Rebellion before.

As Jon was reading, the only thing he could think was how sad it was that Dany had had to learn her entire history from the words of Viserys. She couldn’t remember anything of her history. She had never had tutors, or a maester to explain things to her, or a loving father or siblings to play with. Only her mad, volatile, obsessive brother.

She can’t remember Dragonstone either, since they had run again, with five loyal men and a wet nurse across the Narrow Sea to Braavos.

She remembers their house in Braavos, though, a big house with a red door and a lemon tree outside her window. They had been forced out of their home and wandered from Braavos to Myr and Tyrosh, Qohor, Volantis and Lys, always fleeing the Usurper’s hired assassins.

As the years passed, people in the free cities had grown less and less happy to welcome the last Targaryens, and Dany knows that her brother is called ‘the beggar king’ in the alleys of Pentos.

“He is called that in Westeros, too,” Ned murmured. Only Catelyn heard him, and she looked at her husband in surprise.

Viserys lives for the day that everything is returned to them, Dragonstone, King’s Landing, the Iron Throne. But Daenerys only wants the house with the red door and her lost childhood back.

Someone knocks on her door, and Illyrio’s servants enter. They fill her bath with hot water and help Daenerys into the tub. The water is scalding hot but she does not flinch.

“What?” Arya asked with wide eyes. “Is she very heat tolerant or something? Is this normal for Targaryens, Father?”

Ned smiled at his daughter. “Yes, Arya. In history, some Targaryens were naturally more resistant to heat. Even their house words are “Fire and Blood,” and a lot of them developed an obsession with heat and fire after a while. Daenerys seems to take after her ancestors in this aspect.”

Arya nodded, understanding.

She likes the heat. Her brother often says that fire is in their blood.

The servants tell her how lucky she should feel, and what a handsome and fierce man Khal Drogo is, how he has never been defeated in battle and even his slaves wear golden collars.

Dany remains silent. She had assumed she would marry Viserys one day, to keep the bloodlines pure, and now he is selling her to a barbarian.

Bran frowned. “So… she doesn’t want to marry Khal Drogo because she is disappointed she can’t marry her brother instead?”

“What you need to understand, Bran,” Catelyn said, “is that Targaryens have been marrying inside the family for centuries. Daenerys just assumed she would be the same. And if you follow her line of thinking, it does make sense. She would rather stay with her brother, a familiar person she has known and depended on her whole life, than marry a savage stranger she has never met before.”

Bran nodded begrudgingly. “Thanks, Mother. I do understand, it’s just a weird concept, I suppose.”

The servants help her get dressed, in a beautiful gown with jewelry and perfume, telling her she looks like a princess now.

Sansa smiled softly. Despite Dany’s horrible life circumstances, her gowns did sound gorgeous.

Her brother is waiting outside for her with Illyrio, who tells her she looks regal. Drogo will be enraptured, Illyrio says.

On their way to their meeting place in Illyrio’s palanquin, Viserys says that they won’t need the whole khalasar, that he could sweep the seven kingdoms with only ten thousand Dothraki.

Ned sat up in shock. “So that’s his plan? Sell his sister in exchange for a Dothraki army to retake the Iron Throne? I need to inform Robert!”

Catelyn nodded grimly but looked her husband in the eyes and said: “Don’t do anything foolish, my lord. None of this has happened yet, and while even the information we have so far is a blessing, we need to wait to find out more before we do anything. Nothing might come of this plan, after all.”

Looking at his wife, Ned nodded, taking a deep breath. “You are right, of course. It’s just difficult to listen to all of this. Please continue with the chapter, Jon.”

Illyrio reassures him that smallfolk are crying out for their king, sewing Targaryen banners in secret. Dany mistrusts him but has no way of knowing if she is right.

Viserys, who has never killed anyone and doesn’t know how to use a sword is promising her he will kill the Usurper and the Kingslayer himself.

Ned smiled grimly to himself and shook his head. Viserys would have no chance in a duel with Robert, much less with Jaime Lannister, arguably the best swordsman in Westeros.

Illyrio smiles and they all get out of the palanquin and go through the gate to meet with the Dothraki.

A eunuch announces their entry. Dany looks around at the pillared, moonlit courtyard and at the guests – many are Dothraki, with brown skin and long black hair, but she can also see people from Pentos and Myr and Tyrosh, even lords from the Summer Isles with skin as dark as ebony. She realizes suddenly that she is the only woman.

Jon was strangely nervous reading this. He hoped Daenerys would be alright, considering the fate that lay before her.

Illyrio is pointing out guests, one of whom is the Westerosi knight Ser Jorah Mormont. He was caught selling poachers as slaves instead of sending them to the Wall, a law that Illyrio considers absurd. A man should be able to do what he wants with his own chattel.

Robb looked at the book in dismay. “Did Illyrio just call human beings ‘chattel’?” he asked Ned sharply. “How can someone do something like that?”

But Ned wasn’t listening. He was frowning, trying to remember something. After a while, he said: “I remember Ser Jorah Mormont. I was the one who caught him trying to sell people into slavery a few years ago. I wanted to execute him, but he escaped before I could find him. I haven’t thought about Ser Jorah in years.”

Jon looked at his father with interest. “Isn’t Ser Jorah’s father Lord Commander Mormont of the Night’s Watch?”

“Yes, he is,” Ned replied. “I wonder what Ser Jorah has to do with Daenerys, though. There must be a reason he was mentioned. He could be important.”

Jon nodded thoughtfully, and turned back to the book.

Illyrio then turns her attention to the khal. She wants to hide but knows she can’t displease her brother so forces herself to look. Khal Drogo is over a head taller than everyone else, but seems light on his feet. He is younger than she had assumed, no more than thirty years old, with copper coloured skin.

Sansa smiled. At least he’s good-looking, she thought, trying to mentally console Dany. He might even turn out to be nice!

As Illyrio waddles over to him, Viserys is squeezing her arm, telling her that Dothraki cut off their hair when they are defeated. His braid reaches the backs of his thighs because he has never lost a battle.

Arya and Bran looked at each other in excitement. Will they be able to hear about a battle soon?

Dany looks at him again. Drogo’s face seems hard and cruel and Dany is frightened. She begs Viserys to let her go home, she doesn’t want to marry Drogo.

Sansa felt tears in her eyes despite herself. She couldn’t relate to Dany at all, having never left Winterfell and her family in her life, but the fear in Dany’s voice was so raw and real. Sansa couldn’t imagine having to marry a savage barbarian, but she felt extremely sorry for Daenerys in that moment.

Viserys is angry. He says they can’t go home, meaning King’s Landing, but Dany had only been talking about their rooms in Pentos. Tears well up in her eyes.  Viserys says sharply that they can only go home if they have an army, Khal Drogo’s army, and one wedding is a small price to pay for that.

Everyone in the room continued to be appalled at the way Viserys was treating his sister. How cruel could one person be?

Viserys is smiling, and says he would…

Jon’s voice trailed off as he stared at the page in horror. With an extremely apologetic glance at his father and Lady Catelyn, and looking awkwardly at Arya, Bran and Sansa, he continued nervously.

Viserys says he would let Drogo’s whole khalasar fuck her, all forty thousand men and their horses if that’s what it takes to get his army and she should be grateful it’s only Drogo. Who knows, she may even grow to like him.

Everyone’s eyes widened further and further in shock as Jon continued reading. Sansa felt traumatised – she had never heard anyone use that word in this way before.

“I’m so sorry,” Jon said immediately. “I didn’t know what to…”

“It’s fine, Jon.” Ned said wearily. “How much is left of this chapter?”

“Only a few more lines,” Jon replied, and quickly finished reading.

Dany turns and sees Drogo coming towards her and quickly dries her tears. Viserys tells her nervously to stand up straight.

Daenerys smiles and stands up straight.

“That’s the end,” Jon announced with a sigh of relief, closing the book.

There was silence for a few seconds, as everyone processed the new developments.

“Well,” Ned said, “that was certainly interesting.”

Catelyn nodded and said: “I do feel sorry for the Targaryen girl… but I can’t help wondering what she has to do with us. Why are we reading about Daenerys Targaryen?”

“Yes, nothing much has happened so far, except for some vague conversation about retaking the Iron Throne,” Robb said slowly, “but there must be a reason as to why the person who sent us the book wanted us to know about her. She will definitely become important for us later, I feel. And it was interesting, if nothing else, to learn about her life so far, wasn’t it?”

“I agree,” Ned said. “We will probably find out more of importance as we continue reading about her. Now, does anyone have questions about anything so far?”

Everyone shook their heads.

Looking around the room, Arya said, “I assume we’ll continue reading now? Because I wouldn’t mind taking the next chapter, if no one else wants to.”

“Alright,” Jon told her, handing the book over. “We do need to get as much of this book done as possible before King Robert arrives.”

Nodding seriously, Arya opened the book again.

Chapter Text

The family stared expectantly at Arya as she opened the book.

“Well?” Robb asked. “What’s the chapter called?”

“Eddard,” Arya replied. “This is your point of view, Father!”

Ned smiled at his daughter. “Alright, Arya, how about you start reading then.”

Ned was nervous. Who knew which of his thoughts would be recorded in this chapter. What if someone guessed the truth about her? He pushed those thoughts from his mind, forcing himself to listen to his daughter’s voice as she started reading aloud.

The visitors are pouring through the castle, three hundred bannermen, knights, sworn swords and freeriders.

“So this is when the king arrives at Winterfell?” Robb asked, sitting up in his chair with interest.

“I assume so,” Catelyn replied, “so this takes place around a month from now. That’s good to know, it will be interesting to hear what King Robert has to say.”

Over their heads a dozen golden Baratheon banners are flowing in the wind.
Ned knows many of the riders, such as Ser Jaime Lannister, and Sandor Clegane with his terrible burnt face.

Bran was extremely excited to hear about everyone who would visit. He had never met anyone famous like the Kingslayer before. He hoped his father would talk about Ser Barristan, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Bran wanted to be a knight when he grew up.

He sees a tall boy who can only be the crown prince, and a stunted little man who is surely Tyrion Lannister.

Now even Sansa was fascinated by what Arya was reading. She couldn’t wait to hear more about the prince.

But the huge man at the head of the column seems almost a stranger to Ned until he jumps off the horse with a familiar roar and pulls him into a bone-crunching hug.

Ned frowned in confusion. Why was Robert like a stranger to him? Had the man changed that much?

The king shouts that it is good to see Ned’s frozen face again, and looks him over. Laughing, Robert adds that Ned hasn’t changed at all.

The children looked at their father, excited to learn more about this new aspect of his life. While they had all heard stories about King Robert and their father’s friendship and adventures, it was still strange to hear about the King of Westeros greeting their father so casually.

Ned wishes he could say the same. Fifteen years ago when they had fought for the throne, Robert had been clean-shaven, muscled, and six and a half feet tall, towering over lesser men. He’d had a giant’s strength too, and in those days the smell of blood and leather had clung to him like perfume.

Bran’s eyes widened further and further as this description continued. In his youth, King Robert seemed just as impressive as Ser Barristan.

But now perfume clings to him like perfume, and his wide girth is just as impressive as his height. Ned hasn’t seen Robert since Balon Greyjoy’s rebellion, when Ned had taken Balon’s son Theon as hostage and ward.

Robb flinched slightly at the mention of his best friend.

Robert has gained at least eight stone since that night.

As Arya read this description, Ned was deeply shocked. How had Robert managed to let himself go like that? Was he so bored by ruling that he had to resort to food instead?

Meanwhile, Bran let himself sink back into his chair in disappointment. The king sounded very nice, but very different to his imagination. He wished he could have seen the King during the Rebellion instead. 

But Robert is Ned’s king, not just his friend, so Ned simply tells him that Winterfell is yours, Your Grace.

Catelyn smiled fondly at Ned’s inner thoughts. He was always very diplomatic, she thought.

The others are also dismounting, and Robert’s queen Cersei Lannister enters Winterfell on foot with her two younger children, since the wheelhouse is too wide for the gates.

Sansa couldn’t help but interrupt her sister at the mention of the queen. “I’m so looking forward to meeting her,” she breathed with starstruck eyes. “Why can’t they arrive here sooner?”

Robb smiled indulgently at his little sister, but told her: “Wait and see, Sansa. We haven’t even heard anything about her yet.”

Ned added: “Also, we still don’t know what these books are trying to tell us about the future. I would like to try finishing this book at least before they arrive, so we have as much information as possible before interacting with the king and queen. We need to be smart about our actions.”

Sansa didn’t fully understand the urgency of the situation but nodded, allowing Arya to continue.

Ned kneels in the snow to greet Cersei, and Robert hugs Catelyn like a sister.

Catelyn raised an eyebrow at this strange difference in greeting, but said nothing.

After the children have been introduced, Robert asks Ned to take him to the crypts. He wishes to pay his respects.

“Does he mean Aunt Lyanna?” Jon asked softly, and Ned nodded, smiling warmly at Robert’s concern.

Ned loves him for remembering her after all those years, and calls for a lantern. The queen protests, but Robert just looks at her, and she falls silent, following her twin brother Jaime inside.

Ned walks down the narrow steps with this king he barely recognizes. As the walk, Robert complains that he thought they would never reach Winterfell – he keeps forgetting that the North is bigger than the other six kingdoms combined.

Catelyn couldn’t help wishing he would never reach Winterfell at all this time around. She was not looking forward to him explaining his reasons and then destroying her family. After all, something horrific must have happened to warrant the books being produced!

When Ned asks if he enjoyed the journey, Robert says that there were bogs and fields and hardly any inns. Everything is empty, and he had barely seen any people!

Ned jokes that they were probably too shy to come out, as they don’t often see kings up here.

Arya laughed slightly, more in shock of her father joking with the king than anything else.

Robert then talks about the snows, and if these are mild summer snows, he shudders to think of the place in winter.

Ned nodded seriously at his daughter reading those words. Even now, they need to be preparing for winter. An abnormally long summer usually means an extremely long winter – and now the Others are real as well. He silently reminded himself to take more precautions as soon as this book was finished.

He tells Ned that he should come south, to taste the sweet fruits of Highgarden, and the towns! With flowers and markets, cheap summer wines and girls. He says women lose all modesty in the heat, and often swim naked in the river, or wear short silk gowns.

Sansa’s eyes widened in shock of these things being spoken about so openly… and by the king no less! Shouldn’t he be setting an example for the subjects?

The king laughs happily.

Robert Baratheon has always been a man with a big appetite who takes pleasure in many things, which is not something you could accuse Eddard Stark of.

Catelyn bit her lip to keep herself from commenting snidely, but couldn’t help a tense glance at Jon, who immediately looked at his knees, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

Arya hadn’t seemed to notice the loaded atmosphere in the room, though, and continued reading.

But Ned can’t help noticing now that these pleasures are taking a toll on Robert, that he is red-faced and out of breath by the time they reach the bottom of the stairs.

Ned raised an eyebrow in surprise, and couldn’t help but worry for his old friend. So Robert’s health had deteriorated so far he couldn’t even walk down stairs without being out of breath… What had happened to make Robert let go of himself so much? Was it simply boredom? Did he have deeper problems he didn’t tell Ned about?

Ned respectfully moves out of the way, sweeping the lantern in a circle to light the crypts. He tells Robert that she is down at the end with Father and Brandon.

The atmosphere in Ned’s study turned gloomy, and no one dared to break the silence.

Everyone bowed their heads out of respect for Ned’s dead sister.

He leads the way through the pillars and Robert follows silently. The statues of his ancestors seem to watch them pass. A longsword lies across the lap of everyone who had been Lord of Winterfell, and the oldest swords had rusted away a long time ago.

Ned stops at last, lifting the lantern. The crypt continued further, but those graves are empty and unsealed, waiting for him and his children. Ned pushes the thought out of his mind and shows Robert the tomb.

Arya paused briefly, looking at her father with wide, scared eyes, but decided against saying anything. She continued reading in a soft voice that echoed in the otherwise silent room.

Robert kneels, bowing his head.

There are three tombs. Ned’s father Lord Rickard had a stern face, the statue sitting with quiet dignity holding his sword. The stone masons had been accurate in carving his features.

Ned’s older brother Brandon was twenty when he died, strangled by the Mad King’s orders only days before he was due to wed Catelyn Tully. His father had been forced to watch him die.

Catelyn had a strange expression on her face. She didn’t often think about Brandon, and it was odd to hear his name again after so many years. She worried about Arya having to read this terrible family history, but thankfully Arya seemed to be coping well. Catelyn often forgot how mature her youngest daughter was. She still seemed like a baby to Catelyn.

His sister Lyanna was only sixteen and Ned had loved her with all his heart. Robert had loved her more. Lyanna had been engaged to Robert.

Jon listened silently. It was fascinating to hear his father’s thoughts and feelings – Jon knew the history of the Stark family just as well as his siblings, but he had never heard Father speak so honestly about everything before.

After a silence, the king says she was more beautiful than the statue shows. He stands up, and says in a voice hoarse with grief that Ned shouldn’t have buried her in a place like this.

Ned says quietly that she was a Stark of Winterfell and this is her place.

Robert says she should be on a hill with a fruit tree and the sun and clouds above her.

Ned was with her when she died, and she wanted to rest beside Father and Brandon, Ned reminds the king.

He can still hear Lyanna’s voice sometimes, crying Promise me, Ned.

Ned’s head snapped up in shock. He hadn’t expected this to be mentioned in the book. His family looked at him uncertainly.

“Do you want me to stop, Father?” Arya asked in a small, unsure voice.

“No, it’s alright, Arya. You can continue,” said Ned hoarsely, forcing a smile.

Her voice slightly shaky, but strong and determined, Arya started reading again.

Lying in a room that smelled of blood and flowers, the fever had taken her strength, but after he promised her what she so desperately wanted he can remember the fear leaving her eyes. Ned remembers her smile, and her fingers clinging onto his as she let go of life.

Sansa felt tears start to well up in her eyes despite her best attempts to suppress her reaction. She had heard the story of the Rebellion, just like her siblings, but her Father had never gone into any detail. She had never truly considered, or even imagined the effect that the death of a sibling would have on someone.

Robb looked over to see his sister holding back tears, and softly squeezed her hand.

They found him holding her body, and the crannogman Howland Reed had taken her hand from Ned’s.

He tells Robert he brings her flowers when he can, since she was… fond of flowers.

The king wishes he could kill Rhaegar for what he did to her, but Ned reminds him he already did.

Robert and the Targaryen prince had fought at the ford of the Trident. Rhaegar’s black breastplate was covered in rubies, and Robert’s warhammer had crushed the armor and the chest beneath it. When Ned had arrived, Rhaegar was lying dead in the river, the rubies knocked off his armor.

Bran was staring at the book with wide eyes. He had never heard Rhaegar’s death described so graphically before.

Softly, Robert admits that in his dreams, he kills Rhaegar every night.

There is nothing Ned can think of to say to that, and he tells His Grace after a while that they should return, as Robert’s wife will be waiting.

Ned took a deep breath, glad the internal monologues about his past were over. He had expected private thoughts – the previous chapters had as well, so had prepared himself for that at least – but for the book to immediately go into this much detail… he felt quite uncomfortable with his children finding out.

Robert is unhappy about this, but turns around to walk towards the stairs, telling Ned not to call him “Your Grace” again if he doesn’t want his head on a spike. They are more to each other than that.

Ned laughed softly at that comment. It was relieving to know his friend hadn’t changed that much, at least.

Ned replies quietly that he remembers, and asks Robert to tell him about Jon.

Jon looked at his father in confusion. “Why would King Robert –“ he interrupted himself immediately, realising his mistake. “Sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly.

Robb laughed at his brother, glad that some lightheartedness was back in the room, at least.

Robert shakes his head. He has never seen a man get sick so quickly. At Joffrey’s nameday tourney, Jon was perfectly healthy. A fortnight later, he was dead. The sickness was like a fire, burning through him.

Ned frowned. The illness sounded very strange. It was sad to hear about Jon’s death, of course, but it was good to have more information. He would have to try and remember all the details they learnt. It could be important, after all. So far, Ned hadn’t been able to tell why the books had been sent. Nothing horrific had happened yet.

Robert pauses, telling Ned he loved that man.

Ned replies that they both did. He tells Robert that Catelyn grieves for her sister, asking how Lysa copes with her grief.

Catelyn leaned forward in worry, smiling gratefully at Ned, or his future self at least, for asking after her sister.

Robert says she isn’t taking it well, and has possibly been driven mad, taking her boy back to the Eyrie against Robert’s wishes. He had wanted the boy fostered with Tywin Lannister.

Ned would rather trust a child to be raised by a pit viper than Lord Tywin

Arya laughed in disbelief that her father would say that, and shared a grin with Jon as she continued reading.

but chooses not to say anything. Some old wounds never truly heal, so Ned says instead that the wife has lost the husband, and the mother fears to lose the son. The boy is very young.

Catelyn was frowning. That didn’t sound like Lysa… she wouldn’t leave King’s Landing to go back to the Eyrie of all places. She had never been happy in the Eyrie. Why hadn’t Lysa gone to Riverrun? Or Winterfell? Had her little sister really changed that much since their last meeting?

Robert is angry that a sickly six year old boy is Lord of the Eyrie now. He would have been Lord Tywin’s first ever ward, and Lysa should have been honoured, but refused to even think about the offer. Cersei had been furious when Lysa had left in the middle of the night.

“She left in the middle of the night?” Catelyn said, louder than she’d intended. “Without telling anyone? Has the grief driven her mad?”

Ned looked at his wife with sympathy. “Maybe you can visit her once we finish reading,” he suggested. “So you can make sure she’s alright?”

Catelyn smiled at him in gratitude. “Yes, I might do that,” she murmured. “Arya, I apologise for the interruption. You may continue reading.”

Robert sighs. The boy is Robert’s namesake, called Robert Arryn, and the king wants to protect him. Ned offers to take him as a ward, since Catelyn and Lysa were close, but Robert does not want to to hurt Tywin Lannister’s pride. When Ned says his nephew’s wellbeing is more important than a Lannister’s hurt pride, Robert says that’s because Ned doesn’t sleep with a Lannister.

Robb and Jon looked at each other in shock that the King would say something like that, even as a joke. Neither of them had expected King Robert to be so blatantly honest.

He laughs, and says Ned is too serious, putting a massive arm around Ned’s shoulders. The king tells Ned there is a reason he has finally come to Winterfell after so many years.

“So now we are finally getting to the bottom of this,” Ned said. He had an idea of what might be coming, but didn’t want to voice his suspicions yet, just in case he was wrong.

Ned does have suspicions, but says lightly it must have been for the joy of his company, and to see the Wall.

Robert interrupts him, saying the Wall can wait a few days more, as he has a more immediate concern. These are dangerous times, and Robert needs good men around him. Jon Arryn won’t be easy to replace as he was Lord of the Eyrie, Warden of the East and Hand of the King. Ned mentions Jon’s son, but Robert says the son will only be Lord of the Eyrie, no more.

“What does he think he’s doing?” Catelyn’s voice rose in volume. “My sister is grieving the loss of her husband, and now the King is stripping her son of his rightful titles?”

Ned placed a calming hand on his wife’s shoulder. “I’m sure I will attempt to convince him otherwise,” he said softly. “We will figure something out to help Lysa, don’t worry.”

Ned is shocked, and stops walking. Turning to look at his king, he reminds him that the Arryns have always been Wardens of the East.

They argue for a while, as Robert thinks the title can be restored when the boy is of age, but a six year old is no war leader, while Ned urges his friend to let the boy keep it for his father’s sake. In peace time, a title is only an honour.

Robert disagrees, but changes the topic.

“Thank you for trying,” Catelyn murmured softly, looking at Ned in gratitude. “I know Robert is impossible to convince once he’s made his mind up.”

Ned smiled back, but said nothing. He was now almost certain he knew what Robert’s reason for visiting Winterfell would be, but didn’t want to have his suspicions come true.

Arya continued reading, however, unaware of her father’s uncomfortable expression.

Robert tells Ned he has need of him.

Ned let out a sigh of resignation. So he was right after all.

Ned automatically says that he is Robert’s to command, but is wary of what might come next.

Robert says the he wants Ned by his side again, in King’s Landing, not up here where he’s no use to anybody. Sitting a throne is a thousand times harder that winning one, and Robert is bored of laws and money and listening to people’s complaints. Robert is surrounded by flatterers and fools, and it is driving him mad.  Ned says softly that he understands.

Robert looks at Ned, and tells him he would name Ned the Hand of the King.

There was a beat of silence in the room after that ominous declaration, as the shock refused to let the Starks properly process that statement.

“What?!” Arya broke the silence, loudly saying, “Does this mean you would leave Winterfell? Live in King’s Landing forever?”

Bran nodded emphatically. “Please don’t accept, Father. You need to stay in Winterfell!”

Robb frowned thoughtfully and said, “It is an enormous honour, though. I can’t believe King Robert travelled all this way just to ask you one question!”

“But that’s the problem, though,” Jon said. “The King obviously expects Father to say yes. He wants to take Father south with him when he leaves Winterfell. The question is, is Father actually allowed to say no if he doesn’t want to accept?”

“That’s enough.” Ned interrupted their discussion. “Robert is my friend, of course I can say no if I want to. Remember, children, this is in the future. This is the reason we were given these books – so that we have more information ahead of time to help us. We don’t know yet what the consequences of saying yes or no will be, so I kindly suggest we wait until we jump to conclusions and make any final decisions.”

He looked around the room, to make sure everyone heard and understood him. When he was satisfied, he nodded at Arya to continue the chapter.

Ned drops to one knee, not surprised by the offer. What other reason could there be for coming so far? The Hand of the King is the second-most powerful man in Westeros. Ned is aware that Robert is offering him an enormous responsibility. It’s the last thing in the world he wants.

Ned nodded ruefully. That was his exact thought process now, as well. He would never stop feeling overwhelmed by the sheer accuracy of these books.

He tells Robert he is not worthy of the honour.

Robert groans with good-humoured impatience, saying he doesn’t want to honour Ned, but plans to make Ned run the kingdom while he drinks and eats himself into an early grave.

He makes a joke that the lowborn have a saying: The King eats and the Hand takes the shit.

Sansa’s eyes widened in shock at the continued use of expletives, but she remained silent.

Robert throws back his head, his laughs echoing off the walls of the crypts and the dead of Winterfell seem to watch them with cold, disapproving eyes.

A shiver went down Bran’s spine at the thought. The crypts seemed like an ominous place to have a conversation of this importance.

Ned is still on one knee, and Robert tells him he could have at least given Robert a smile. Ned says evenly that maybe the Starks gave so little humour because of the cold of winter up here. Robert promises he can teach Ned how to laugh again if he comes south. The were meant to rule together. If Lyanna had lived they would have been brothers, bound by blood as well as friendship.

He goes on to say it’s not too late. Robert has a son and Ned has a daughter.

Sansa sat up immediately, staring at her sister eagerly, wiling her to say the words Sansa longed to hear. To marry the crown prince, to be queen of the Seven Kingdoms, would be all her dreams come true.

They will join their houses, as Lyanna and Robert were supposed to.

Sansa could barely contain a squeal. “Oh gods, I’m going to marry the prince! And I’ll be queen someday, and my sons will rule the Seven Kingdoms!”

Arya rolled her eyes. She just wanted to finish this chapter as quickly as possible.

Robb and Ned shared a concerned look, but remained silent.

Catelyn smiled gently at her daughter. “I am very happy for you, darling. But remember Sansa, we don’t know yet if this will come to pass. And you are only eleven, so it will be prudent to wait a while before coming to a final decision.”

Sansa took a deep breath to try and calm down, but couldn’t resist the big smile that came onto her face. This news might have been the single best thing to ever happen in her life.

That offer does surprise Ned and he says immediately that Sansa is only eleven. Robert doesn’t care. She is old enough to be betrothed, and the marriage can wait a while. He tells Ned to stand up and say yes.

Sansa turned eagerly to her father. “Say yes, Father, please say yes!”

Ned was very reluctant. Looking at his eldest daughter, he said simply: “We’ll have to see what happens in the books for now. I apologise, but I can’t make any promises before I know all the information available.”

Sansa sighed but turned back to the book. “What are you doing, Arya?” she said impatiently. “Keep reading!”

“This chapter’s almost finished anyway,” Arya said, but turned back to the book.

Ned hesitates. The offers are very unexpected, he says, and could he discuss them with Catelyn first?

Robert agrees, pulling Ned to his feet, but tells Ned not to keep him waiting too long as he is not very patient.

For a moment Eddard Stark is filled with a terrible sense of foreboding. He belongs in the north – this is his place.

The family looked at each other as the atmosphere grew tense. They were all suddenly aware of the possible horrors before them. What had the sender of the books been trying to prevent? What terrible things would happen once Ned Stark left Winterfell?

He looks at the statues around him, and can feel the eyes of the dead. He knows they were all listening. And winter is coming.

“That’s the end of this chapter,” Arya said loudly, to break the uneasy tension in the room.

Robb let out a breath. “Well, that was very informative at least. It will be very interesting to learn what happens now, don’t you think?”

Bran spoke up. “I think we should keep reading.” he said. “We want to finish this as soon as possible.”

”I quite agree,” Ned said. “Sansa, I don’t think you have read a chapter yet – do you want to?”

Sansa was still in a good mood, despite the eerie ending, and readily agreed. She walked over to Arya to get the book, and flipped to the correct page as she sat back down.

“Alright then,” she said, “let’s continue.”

Sansa started reading.

Chapter Text

As Sansa opened her mouth to begin reading, she froze as her eyes landed on the chapter title. “Oh,” she said softly. She gave her head a slight shake to regain her composure, and announced to the room: “This chapter is in Jon’s perspective.”

Catelyn raised a cold eyebrow, but remained silent, aware of her husband’s presence beside her.

Jon was eager to hear his thoughts, but uncomfortable with the situation. Robb looked at him in concern and said: “You can start reading, Sansa.”

With a nervous look at Jon, Sansa read the first sentence.

Sometimes Jon is glad he is a bastard.

Ned frowned, slightly uncomfortable reading Jon’s inner thoughts. It had been unpleasant for the other chapters as well, but they had all been vague events in the future, with no thoughts or feelings that were too personal or private. This, on the other hand, seemed very private. Looking at Jon to see how he was taking this, Ned could see a neutral expression on his face that Ned couldn’t read.

While Ned was having this inner monologue, Sansa had continued reading, and Arya, aware of her brother’s discomfort with the situation, gently squeezed Jon’s hand in support.

As he refills his wine cup, he realises this might be one of those rare occasions. He sits back on his bench among the younger squires and drinks, the sweet flavour bringing a smile to his lips.

“I hope you aren’t drinking too much,” Ned said sternly.

“Sorry, Father,” Jon said, smiling slightly. “This is in the future, though, so I can’t help it?”

Ned raised an eyebrow in amusement, turning back to Sansa as she read the next part of the chapter.

The Great Hall of Winterfell is hazy with smoke, and Jon can smell roasted meat and fresh-baked bread. There are Stark, Baratheon and Lannister banners draping the grey walls. A singer is reciting a ballad, but Jon is so far away that the singer can barely be heard over the noise of the fire and hundreds of drunken conversations.

Robb and Arya frowned in concern – why was Jon sitting so extremely far away? Was he alright?

The welcoming feast for the king has been going on for four hours.

“Four hours?!” Bran asked loudly. “Why does it last four hours?”

Catelyn spoke up for the first time, smiling at her son. “Because it is courteous to feast as long as the king feels it is suitable, and we want to honour the royal guests who have travelled so far to visit us.”

Jon’s siblings are seated with the royal children. Lord Stark will probably allow each child one glass of wine, in honour of the occasion, but no more than that. Jon, on the other hand, can drink as much as he likes with no one to stop him.

Robb looked at his brother with some envy. He knew it was petty and a small complaint in comparison, but he wished he was allowed to drink more than one glass of wine too.

He finds he has a man’s thirst, and is cheered on by the squires surrounding him each time he drains a glass. Jon relishes the stories they are telling, of battles and hunting. Jon is sure they are much more entertaining than the royal children.

“Of course they are,” Arya mumbled softly, a scowl on her face. “Why do we have to entertain the boring royal children instead of sitting with you?”

Jon smiled at his sister, looking at Lady Stark to make sure she hadn’t heard Arya’s comment.

“You’ll be fine,” he told her. “And you’ll be able to tell me all about how boring it was once it’s over.”

Jon had had enough of the visitors after seeing their entrance.

Sansa frowned in confusion. How could he say that? Wasn’t everyone thrilled by the prospect of the royal family visiting them? Jon was weirdly quiet and less enthusiastic about these things than her, she knew, but how could he be bored of the king and queen of Westeros?

She knew no one would properly understand her question, though, and remained silent.

As they had passed him, Jon had been able to get a long look at them all.

The queen is as beautiful as everyone says, with a tiara, long golden hair and green eyes. She had completely ignored his father as he helped her up the dais. Even at fourteen, Jon sees straight through her pretty smile.

Ned smiled at Jon’s comment. He had always been the most intuitively observant one.

King Robert is a big disappointment to Jon. He had heard all his father’s stories of the Trident, and the king’s legendary strength and battle prowess, but as the king walks past to sit at the raised platform in the hall, Jon sees only a fat drunk man with a beard and a red face.

Sansa gave a gasp of shock at Jon’s thoughts, but Jon was in full agreement with this assessment after hearing the descriptions in the previous chapter.

Three-year-old Rickon comes next, and Jon has to urge him on when he stops to visit.

Bran couldn’t help but laugh out loud at that mental image.

Sansa gave him a reproaching stare. “Poor Rickon,” she said. “He doesn’t really understand what’s happening. I hope the royal family weren’t too embarrassed.”

Robb rolled his eyes. “I’m sure it was fine, Sansa,” he said.

Then comes Robb, with Princess Myrcella.

Robb grinned despite himself. It would be fun to walk down the hall with a princess on his arm, even if the royal family seemed a bit disappointing judging from the descriptions so far.

She is nearly eight years old, with golden curls and a timid smile. She is continually giving Robb shy looks, and Jon decides she is insipid. Robb doesn’t even have the sense to realise her stupidity, since he is grinning like an idiot.

Robb laughed loudly at Jon’s comments, and the brothers exchanged a grin.

Arya is paired with Tommen, and Sansa with the crown prince Joffrey.

Arya rolled her eyes at this prospect, but Sansa’s voice rose higher in excitement at reading these words, and she had to make a visible effort to calm herself down.

Jon was interested despite himself. This list of people sounded very accurate so far from what he had heard, and he was fascinated to find out what his future self’s opinions were like on these new people.

He is only twelve, but taller than Jon and Robb, with thick blond hair and green eyes. Sansa looks radiant beside him

Sansa gave Jon an awkward, but genuine smile at the compliment.

but Jon doesn’t like the bored, disdainful way Joffrey looks at the Great Hall.

Everyone looked a bit put out by this. Who would dare to look at any part of their beloved Winterfell in a disdainful way, especially the Great Hall?

Sansa looked down in disappointment. She had been looking forward to showing the prince around, and taking pride in her beautiful home – she hadn’t expected her future husband (she still couldn’t believe that word!) to be bored by Winterfell.

The queen’s brothers, on the other hand are much more interesting. Ser Jaime Lannister is the queen’s twin, tall, golden, with a cutting smile. He wears red silk, a satin cloak, a roaring lion as his sigil, but people call him Kingslayer behind his back. Jon finds it hard to look away, thinking to himself that this is what a king should look like.

“Perhaps Ser Jaime does look like a king,” Ned said softly, “but looks are not everything in life. You must remember that Jaime Lannister is an oath breaker, a man without honour.”

Jon nodded, understanding that well enough.

The other brother is Tyrion Lannister, known as the imp. He is a dwarf, half Ser Jaime’s size, with stunted legs and a head too big for his body. His eyes are mismatched and he has white blond hair, and Jon watches him in fascination.

Arya listened to this description in fascination, too. She had never met a dwarf before, was strangely excited to meet Tyrion Lannister, even just to catch a quick glimpse.

Sansa’s voice had taken on a strange tone though, as though she had not expected the “Imp” to be quite so odd-looking.

When his uncle Benjen Stark enters the Hall, he gives Jon a warm smile.

The Stark siblings smiled widely at the mention of their favourite uncle. They were very excited to see him again after so long.

Theon Greyjoy, the last to enter, ignores Jon completely, like usual.

Robb frowned in disappointment. He had never given up on the possibility of his best friend and his brother actually getting along, but it seemed more and more unlikely with every year that passed.

Jon had started drinking as soon as everyone was seated and the feast officially began, and is still not stopping.

Catelyn wished this chapter would just be over. She had no desire to hear Jon’s thoughts, or read about him drinking, or acknowledge his presence.

Looking down, he sees red eyes staring up at him, and Jon asks if Ghost is hungry again, reaching for a chicken to subtly slide onto the floor. His siblings aren’t allowed to bring their pups to the feast, but no one had said a word about Ghost’s presence here.

Jon looked down with an unreadable expression on his face, feeling strangely excluded, but not wanting his family to know.

He tells himself he is lucky in this aspect too.

“You are lucky, though,” Arya said softly. “I wish Mother would allow me to bring Nymeria to a feast one day.”

Jon forced a smile, but remained silent, ruffling his sister’s hair gently.

His eyes start stinging, and Jon rubs them harshly, blaming the smoke.

Jon blushed slightly. He didn’t want his family find out about his thoughts, much less hear about him crying. Why couldn’t they go back to Bran’s thoughts? Or Daenerys’? Jon sighed and closed his eyes in resignation. He wished this never-ending chapter would just be over already.

Robb, Arya and Bran were looking at each other, stricken. They hadn’t realised the situation was affecting Jon so much.

Sansa looked around the room, unsure of whether to continue or not. She felt very uncomfortable, but kept reading after a nod from her father.

One of the other dogs tries to eat some of the chicken, but Ghost defends his prize aggressively, baring his fangs, and the dog quickly moves away.

Robb and Jon grinned at each other in amusement, glad the tension in the room was broken again.

Jon grins, ruffling Ghost’s white fur, but is interrupted by Benjen.

He looks up happily, introducing Ghost. Ben asks how much wine Jon has had, and Jon smiles in response, which earns a laugh from his uncle.

Catelyn frowned in disapproval but remained silent, not wanting to voice her opinion in front of her lord husband.

Benjen has sharp features but always has laughter in his blue grey eyes. He is dressed in black like all men of the Night’s Watch. Ben watches Ghost in amusement, commenting on how quiet he is. Jon says he never makes a sound, which is the reason he is named Ghost, as well as the white colour of his fur.

Giving Jon a long look, Benjen asks why Jon isn’t sharing the meal with his siblings. Jon replies in a flat voice that Lady Stark thought it might insult the royal family to have a bastard in their midst.

Sansa paused uncertainly, looking around the room. She realised dimly that this was probably the most tense chapter yet. She was completely on her mother’s side, of course, but did not want to risk a confrontation between any members of her family.

Ned looked between his lady wife and his son in concern, well aware of the tension between them. When neither of them spoke, however, but just resolutely ignored each other, he sighed and simply said: “You may continue with the chapter, Sansa.”

They look at the raised table, and Jon notices a tightness in his father he had never seen before. Despite his father being polite, he isn’t saying much, and staring emptily into space.

Ned raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You’re very observant, aren’t you, Jon? Being able to notice that from such a large distance and through smoke is very impressive.”

Jon smiled awkwardly in response. It wasn’t that impressive, he just watched people sometimes, and saw how they acted.

The king, on the other hand, is drinking a lot, laughing and joking, and his queen beside him sits still like an ice statue.

“They don’t look very happy together, do they?” Bran whispered. No one paid him any attention, though, as they were so focused on the chapter.

Jon tells his uncle that the queen is angry because the king went into the crypts this afternoon despite her wishes. Benjen tells Jon that he doesn’t miss much, and they could use an observant man like Jon at the Wall.

Jon smiled softly at this genuine compliment. He had been thinking about the Night’s Watch for a very long time now, and it meant a lot to him that Benjen would think he was well suited.

Jon swells with pride, and tells Benjen about his sword lessons and horse riding abilities. He suddenly asks Benjen to take him to the Wall to join the Night’s Watch. Father will listen to Benjen if he asks.

“What?” Arya shouted, turning to Jon. “You can’t leave!”

Ned stared at Jon in shock. “What do you mean, you want to join the Night’s Watch? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I am still thinking about it. But I think it is the best place for me, don’t you? I am almost fifteen, and I need to think about my future, Lord Stark.” Jon added the title at the last minute, well aware of Lady Stark’s presence in the room.

“We will discuss this later, Jon,” Ned said, not wanting to have this discussion in front of his family. “I apologise for the interruption, Sansa.”

Benjen is still hesitant and says the Wall is a hard place for a boy, but Jon replies that he is almost fifteen, and Maester Luwin has told him bastards grow up faster than other children. Jon adds that Daeron Targaryen was fourteen when he conquered Dorne

Arya opened her mouth to argue, but Sansa continued reading before Arya could start speaking.

but Benjen points out that the conquest only lasted one summer.
Benjen asks if Jon has forgotten that Daeron was only eighteen when he died. Jon sits up straight, and repeats that he wants to serve in the Night’s Watch.

Jon was sitting up straight, listening to this discussion intently. He was determined now to serve at the Wall, but was interested in Benjen’s counter arguments. He didn’t register the concerned looks from Robb and Arya, who were only now realising the strength of his wish.

He has thought about it a lot, lying in bed at night while his siblings were sleeping. Robb will inherit Winterfell someday, commanding armies as Warden of the North.

Robb was uncomfortable with this train of thought. He was well aware of his future, being heir to Winterfell, but he hadn’t fully realised Jon felt so excluded. He voiced his thoughts now. “Jon,” he said hesitantly, “You know you will always have a place at Winterfell, right?”

“I know,” Jon said calmly. His maturity was slightly unnerving to Robb. “But I have to find my own way in life. I want a sense of purpose, and I think the Wall can give me that.”

Bran and Rickon will be bannermen with their own holdfasts. Arya and Sansa will marry lords and go south as mistresses of their own castles.

“No, I won’t,” Arya muttered with a scowl at the reminder of her fate. It was said softly though, and no one heard her comment.

But what can a bastard hope to become in life?

Sansa frowned, realising this for the first time. Jon had no real options. He would never be a lord, or a knight, even though he was a good fighter from what she had heard. Maybe the Wall was the best place for him?

Benjen says that Jon doesn’t know what he’s asking. The Night’s Watch swear to have no families, will never father children. He tells Jon that he might be less eager to pay the price if he knew what it would cost, son.

Jon angrily says that’s he’s not Benjen’s son, and Benjen replies that that’s a pity.

Ned’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly in shock. He could not believe Benjen had said that, even as a jest. No one else had thought anything of it, thankfully, and Ned remained silent.

Benjen tells Jon to come back once he’s fathered a few bastards and they’ll see how he feels then, but Jon interrupts him angrily, saying he will never father a bastard. Never!

The atmosphere in the room was extremely tense, as Sansa paused in her reading, uncomfortable with Jon’s inner thoughts and unsure what to say.

Jon was trembling in anger, hurt that Benjen would even suggest such a thing to him. Didn’t he understand? Didn’t he realise how difficult a life as a bastard was? Jon would never give this life to an innocent child if he could help it. 

Catelyn couldn’t help but look at her husband as Sansa read out these lines. She hated every reminder of Ned’s bastard - and her insecurities were brought back to surface each time. Why did Ned have to do it? He must have loved Jon’s mother very much if he would risk his reputation and family for her, right? Did Ned truly love Catelyn, or was there still another woman in his heart? 

Ned’s face was carefully neutral, his thoughts whirling beneath the surface. He knew it was his fault Jon’s life was this way, and he was becoming more aware as this chapter went on of just how many difficulties Jon had to deal with in his daily life. He was unmistakably proud of Jon, though, for his maturity and awareness of every situation. Ned wished there could be a way to make Jon’s life easier - but that was impossible. With a heavy sigh, he nodded at Sansa to continue reading.

Their argument is very loud and Jon realises that the table has gone silent and everyone is looking at him. He feels tears well up in his eyes, and excuses himself with his last shred of dignity, running away before anyone can see him cry.

Jon looked down in shame. Why did he have to keep crying in this chapter? He wasn’t usually this sensitive, was he?

Ned almost reached out to him to comfort his son – there was no shame in tears, after all - but stopped himself at Catelyn’s chilly glare. Neither of them deserved any of this, he thought, and he reminded himself to talk to Jon about this when they were alone.

Ghost follows him out.

Jon grinned at the reminder of his wolf pup, his shame forgotten. Ghost would stay true to him always.

The yard is quiet and empty, except for a guard in the battlements. He looks cold and lonely, but Jon would have instantly switched places with him.

Sansa looked down briefly to gather her thoughts. She hadn’t realised Jon felt quite so lonely and sad all the time. He was always surrounded by her siblings, after all, while she was the one alone in her room. And now Jon felt excluded? She shook her head to clear it, and continued reading before her family noticed the pause.

Jon wipes the tears from his face, angry that he had let them fall, but is interrupted by Tyrion Lannister, who is sitting on the ledge above the door. Tyrion grins and asks about Ghost, and Jon explains that he is a direwolf.

Jon’s disappointment is quickly forgotten and they start a conversation. Tyrion asks if he can have a closer look at the wolf, and jumps off the ledge, spinning in a tight ball and vaulting lightly onto his legs.

Bran’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “I didn’t know he could do that!” he exclaimed, a new found respect for Lord Tyrion in his voice. “How do you suppose he got up there?”

“I don’t know,” said Sansa tightly, eager to finally finish this chapter. “Why don’t stop asking us things nobody knows the answer to - you can ask him when the royal party arrives!”

“Be kind to your brother, Sansa,” Catelyn reprimanded her slightly, speaking up for the first time in a long time.

“Sorry, Mother,” Sansa said softly. “Sorry, Bran.” She continued reading. There was only a page left, after all.

Jon hides his surprise and summons Ghost, allowing Tyrion to pet him. Tyron introduces himself, and asks Jon if he is Ned Stark’s bastard. Jon feels a coldness pass right through him, and doesn’t reply.

The tension in the room rose drastically. Neither Jon or Catelyn ever acknowledged the word out loud, and the two continued to resolutely ignore one another, not speaking. No one wanted to be the one to break the tension, but were interested in this unexpected conversation between Jon and Tyrion nonetheless.

Tyrion apologises for any offence given, but grins, saying that Jon is a bastard. Jon admits stiffly that Lord Eddard Stark is his father, and Tyrion says that he can see it, that Jon has more of the North in him than his brothers.

Jon smiled slightly at the compliment. Catelyn closed her eyes in resignation, already too aware of this fact. She knew it was wrong to blame Jon for how he looked - his existence was hardly his fault, after all - but she couldn’t help her feelings.

Jon is pleased by the comment, but tries not to show it.  Tyrion wants to give Jon some counsel, and tells him never to forget what he is, because the world won’t. Jon should make being a bastard a strength, and wear it like armour so it can never be used to hurt him.

Jon frowned in annoyance at this unexpected counsel. Who was Tyrion to give him advice about living life as a bastard? Tyrion had no idea what Jon was going through!

Jon isn’t in the mood for advice, and says Tyrion doesn’t know anything about being a bastard.

Tyrion says all dwarves are bastards in their father’s eyes.

Ned was surprised at Tyrion Lannister opening up so much about his feelings. Why was he talking to Jon about this? What did Lannister have to gain?

Tyrion also says that his mother died giving birth to him.

Jon says he doesn’t know who his mother was, to which Tyrion says it was probably some woman – most mothers are.

Catelyn clenched her jaw tightly. She hoped this awful chapter would be over soon; she didn’t know how much longer she could control her emotions and stop herself from speaking.

Tyrion gives Jon a grin, and tells his to remember one thing: all dwarves are bastards, but not all bastards need to be dwarves.

That idea hit Jon hard. Maybe Tyrion did understand what Jon was feeling, after all.

Then Tyrion turns and walks back into the hall, whistling. When he opens the door, his shadow reaches across the yard, and for a moment, Tyrion Lannister stands tall as a king.

Sansa let out a sigh of relief as she read the last words, and closed the book. “That’s the end of this chapter,” she announced.

Silence reigned for a few moments as no one knew what to say. This was an entirely different chapter to the others, after all, and no one had expected it to reveal quite so many things about Jon or the way he saw the world. Jon was quite uncomfortable with the attention as his siblings kept stealing glances at him, figuring out what to say after that tense chapter.

It was Ned who finally spoke up. “I still want to talk to you about your joining the Night’s Watch, Jon,” he said, “but for now, I think we need to continue. We still have two hours before sunset, after all.”

Bran quietly said. “I think I am the only one who hasn’t read a chapter yet,” he said, looking around the room, “Should I read the next one?”

Sansa nodded. “As long as no one has any objections?”

Nobody did, and Sansa walked over to Bran’s chair and passed him the book.

Chapter Text

As Bran’s eyes skimmed over the title, he frowned slightly. “This chapter is in your point of view again, Mother,” he said.

Robb was outraged. “So Sansa, Arya and I don’t get chapters of our own? That’s kind of sad.”

Jon grinned at his brother, trying to lighten the mood and get his mind off the last chapter. He tried not to think about what thoughts Lady Catelyn would have in this chapter. “Who knows, you might still get one! There are a lot pages left in this book.”

Ned smiled but said firmly. “That doesn’t matter now. Start reading, Bran, alright? We want to get as much as possible done today.”

Bran nodded, and turned back to the book.

Catelyn’s rooms are the hottest in Winterfell.

Catelyn smiled at this beginning, but was a bit confused. Why was the books talking about her chambers? Was an important scene happening there?

She rarely has to light a fire, because of the natural hot springs underneath the castle. Hot water flows through the walls, driving the cold away and keeping the soil from freezing. This is a small thing in summer, but could save lives in winter.

Sansa spoke up. “It really is amazing. How do you suppose our ancestors found the natural springs? How did they manage to make the water flow through the walls?”

“I don’t think anyone really knows, Sansa,” her father replied. “Bran the Builder was extraordinarily talented.”

Catelyn’s baths are always hot and steaming, and the walls are warm. The heat reminds her of her childhood in Riverrun

Catelyn closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. This was already proving to be a far more pleasant chapter than the last one. Irrationally, she couldn’t help but hope it would continue like this for a while. She didn’t want to be reminded of the approaching danger and the future that lay in store for them.

but Ned hates the heat. Starks are made for the cold, he always says.

His family laughed at that, all enjoying the brief respite from the seemingly constant tension and worries. Their father’s statement might be true, and they all agree with him, but he does say that phrase a lot.

She always laughs in response, saying that his ancestors had built their castle in the wrong place, then.

So when they have finished

Catelyn felt dread pool in her stomach. She looked up and saw a matching horror in her husband’s eyes as her seven-year-old son continued reading innocently. Was this book truly describing what they thought they were hearing?

Ned gets up from the bed and throws open the windows, letting cold air into the chamber.

Bran frowned in confusion. What is this book talking about? Were they organising something? Was it some kind of work they were finishing?

Catelyn pulls the furs to her chins and watches her husband.

Catelyn blushed brightly, cursing her Tully complexion. She saw a dawning horror in Robb’s face and shut her eyes tightly, refusing to believe this was happening. What kind of book even mentioned the marriage bed in this explicit way? Bran, oblivious to his mother’s inner thoughts, continued reading.

He seems more vulnerable, like the young man she had married fifteen years ago. Her loins…

Bran’s eyes widened and he bit his lip and looked up, unsure of whether he should continue with the sentence or not. By now, everyone had realised what exactly was being described. Jon and Arya both looked extremely uncomfortable, and Sansa blushed to the roots of her equally red hair.

Ned cleared his throat awkwardly. “Bran, you don’t have to keep reading this if you don’t want to. We can skip this part.”

Bran nodded, relieved. “Basically, in this paragraph Mother is praying for another son, since it has been three years and she is not yet too old. And then this conversation begins.”

Ned says that he will refuse him. He turns back to her, his voice filled with doubt.

Catelyn let out a breath, relieved that the awkward moment was finally over. Eager to get everyone’s minds off what just happened, she asked her husband: “Why will you refuse Robert? It’s the greatest honour he could offer you.”

“I can’t accept him, surely you see that.” Ned answered. “My place is here.”

Catelyn sits up and tells Ned that he can’t. Ned replies his duties are in the north, and he doesn’t wish to be Robert’s Hand. Catelyn says that Robert won’t accept that – he is a king, and if Ned refuses to serve him, Robert will wonder why and might suspect that Ned opposes Robert. Can’t Ned see the danger that would put them in?

Ned shakes his head and tells Catelyn that Robert would never harm their family. He and Robert were closer than brothers and love each other. If Ned refuses him, Robert will be angry, and then they’ll laugh about it together in a week. Ned knows the man!

Catelyn says that Ned knew the man, but he does not know the king.

Ned shook his head. “I can’t believe Robert has changed that much since we last saw each other. He loves and trusts me, he would never accuse me of treason for refusing an offer!” Ned said, trying desperately to make Catelyn understand.

She shook her head sadly. Doesn’t he see?

Bran looked between his parents uncertainly. Was this issue really so serious? What was wrong with visiting King’s Landing?

Catelyn noticed and forced a smile to reassure her young son. They never argued in front of the children if they could help it, and he had never witnessed a strong disagreement between them like this before.

“It’s alright, Bran,” she said softly, visibly calming down. “Your father and I just have a different opinion on this subject. You can keep reading, sweetling.”

Catelyn remembers the dead direwolf with a broken antler stuck deep in her throat.

Sansa frowned in concern. “You believe that was a sign, Mother?”

“Possibly, yes,” Catelyn answered. “We don’t know what will be in the future, but something horrible must happen to our family because of the King’s visit. Why else would these books have been sent to us?”

She has to make Ned understand. She says that he can’t throw these honours back in Robert’s face after all the effort Robert made to see him.

Ned laughed in disbelief. “So you think Robert will start a war with us if I don’t come south with him?”

Catelyn looked down. “Like I said, no one knows yet what the horrors will be that are in our future. I just want to protect this family!”

Robb spoke up. “Why don’t we keep reading for now? We still have time before King Robert comes to make all these decisions. There’s no need to rush anything.”

Ned smiled at his fourteen-year-old son. “When did you get so wise and mature, Robb?”

Robb laughed awkwardly, glad the tension was lifted, at least briefly. “Go on, Bran, continue with the chapter!”

Bran smiled back, and turned to the book again.

Ned laughs bitterly as he wouldn’t call it an honour, and Catelyn says they are honours in her eyes too. He will marry Sansa to his eldest son. Sansa may be queen someday. What is wrong with that?

“Thank you, Mother,” Sansa breathed. Catelyn smiled gently at her daughter.

Ned says that Sansa is only eleven. And Joffrey is…

Catelyn finishes his sentence. Crown prince, and heir to the throne. She reminds her husband she was only twelve when promised to Brandon.

Jon looked at his father in concern. He knew his father never liked people mentioning Brandon. But his father had an unreadable, stoic expression on his face and Jon didn’t want to interrupt unnecessarily, so he remained quiet.

Ned’s mouth twists bitterly, and he says Brandon would know what to do. Everything was meant for Brandon. Brandon was born to be a King’s Hand. Ned never asked for this cup to pass to him.

Ned suppressed a sigh of frustration. Why did every chapter have to be so damned private? Within the past day he had already found out a lot of information about his family that he didn’t really want to know. And now… not only did the book mention his flashbacks, it had to show a conversation about Brandon too?

Catelyn says perhaps not, but Brandon is dead, so now Ned is forced to drink from it whether he likes it or not.

Ned turns away from her, staring out into the darkness. Catelyn softens, seeing his pain. Eddard Stark married her in his brother’s place, but the shadow of Brandon was still between them, as well as the other shadow, of the woman he wouldn’t name who had given birth to his bastard son.

Jon’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected the subject of his mother to come up so soon after his chapter. He looked at Lady Catelyn nervously to see how she would react, but relaxed when he saw the usual tense expression on her face. Lady Catelyn wouldn’t openly say anything to him, at least. Jon turned back to his brother, who had continued reading aloud.

She is about to go to him when someone knocks on the door. Desmond tells them through the door that Maester Luwin wishes to speak to them. It seems important, and Ned tells Desmond to let him in.

“What does Maester Luwin want?” Ned wondered aloud. “It must be extremely important for him to disturb us in the middle of the night.”

“It could be information about the royal party, perhaps? Or he received an urgent letter?” Catelyn said.

Ned slips on a heavy robe, and Catelyn realises how cold the room has become, suggesting they close the windows. Ned nods and Maester Luwin enters.

He is a small grey man, and his eyes are grey and observant. His grey robe had big floppy sleeves with hidden pockets that he could tuck things into: books, letters, toys for the children.

Arya grinned, catching her brother’s eye. Bran laughed at the description. “That is very accurate,” he said.

Luwin apologises for disturbing their rest and says he’s been left a message.

Ned is irritated and asks who left it? He hasn’t been told about any riders.

Luwin explains that there was no rider, only a large wooden box left on a table while Luwin napped.

“A box?” Robb asked. He sat up in his chair in interest. “How would a box get to his table? Who left it there?”

“It must be important,” Jon said. “I wonder what’s inside.”

“Well maybe if you let Bran read, we’d find out,” Arya said. “Sorry, Mother,” she added as Catelyn gave her a stern look.

No riders have been seen, so it must have been someone from the royal party. Inside was a new lens for the observatory from Myr.

Ned impatiently asks what that has to do with him.

A lens helps people see, Sansa thought. She didn’t dare voice her thoughts, though. What could the person be trying to tell them?

Ned listened to his son’s voice intently, deep in thought.

Catelyn shivers and says that a lens is an instrument to help us see.

Sansa’s eyes widened in shock. So Mother had the same thought!

She feels dread stirring in her and asks what they would have us see more clearly?
Maester Luwin pulls a scroll from his sleeve, saying that he found the true message hidden within a false bottom.

A false bottom! Of course! Arya wanted to slap herself for not thinking of that.

The family leaned forward in anticipation. What would the note say? Was this the beginning of their horrible future?

Ned holds out his hand, but Luwin says the message is meant for Lady Catelyn alone. He places it next to her bed and bows, retreating. Ned commands him to stay, and asks Catelyn what it is, as she is shaking. Catelyn admits that she is afraid, but takes the letter. She sees the seal of Arryn, and knows that it’s from her sister Lysa.

“Lysa? Why would Lysa write me like this?” Catelyn looked at her husband, worry in her eyes. “Do you believe this has to do with Jon Arryn?”

Ned sighed heavily. “It is very possible, of course. I’m sure we’ll discover the truth soon. Apologies for the interruptions, Bran. Please continue.”

She opens it. At first the words make no sense to her, but then she remembers. She explains that Lysa used a secret language from their childhood, so that no one else would understand the letter.

Maester Luwin suggests that he leave, but Catelyn tells him they need his advice. She throws back the furs and walks across the room, feeling the cold air on her bare skin.

Bran’s voice faltered in shock, but he managed to finish the sentence. Why did he have to read this chapter?

Sansa blushed but kept a brave face, and Bran quickly continued reading before the situation got any more awkward.

Maester Luwin looks away and even Ned seems shocked.

Ned could entirely understand his future self’s feelings. Honestly, what was Cat thinking?

This entire chapter just seemed to become more and more awkward the further it went on.

Catelyn says she is lighting a fire, as she slips into a dressing gown and then kneels over the hearth. She speaks over Ned’s protests, as Maester Luwin has delivered all her children.

Robb let out a laugh in shock that his mother would say something like that. She was always so proper and well-mannered!

Bran read on quickly, eager to get this section of the chapter over and done with.

This is no time for false modesty.

She burns the piece of paper and then explains that it was a warning – Lysa says Jon Arryn was murdered by the Lannisters. The queen.

“What?” Robb said. “You don’t believe that, Father, do you? Mother?” he said a bit desperately when his father refused to answer. “Why would anyone do something like that?”

“Let’s hear this out before making any judgements, Robb,” Ned said heavily. “Lysa is grieving, who knows what she is saying.”

Ned’s voice is hoarse as he says that Lysa is in mourning and doesn’t know what she’s saying.

Ned let out a chuckle of disbelief at his words being repeated in the book. “Exactly,” he said softly.

Catelyn disagrees: while her sister is impulsive, this message was planned and hidden, and she would have known the risk of it falling into the wrong hands. She must have had more than just suspicion. Catelyn looks at her husband, saying that they have no choice, and Ned must go south with Robert as his Hand, and learn the truth.

Catelyn nodded emphatically, completely in agreement with her book counterpart.

“What?” Ned exclaimed. “How can you reach that conclusion? This proves how dangerous King’s Landing is, I should stay here.”

Sansa sighed in disappointment that this argument was brought back up again. Why couldn’t everyone just agree and get along?

But Ned says he would do better to avoid that nest of adders, and will stay in the north.

The argument goes on, as Luwin agrees with Catelyn, as the Hand has much power – to find the truth and protect Lady Arryn and her son if it comes to that.

“Great,” Ned muttered, “Now even Luwin is on your side.” He was tired of fighting. “We still have a month before we have to make this decision, my lady, so I suggest we wait and see what happens in the books before arguing with information we are not even sure of.”

Catelyn nodded, and reached out to take her husband’s hand with a small smile. “I agree, my lord. Let us postpone this argument for a later day. Continue with the chapter, please, Bran.”

Ned looks around the room helplessly, and Catelyn’s heart goes out to her husband, but she knows she must win this argument. She asks him if he would leave Robert alone, surrounded by Lannisters?

Ned turns back to the window, telling the Others to take both of them.

That sentence summed up Ned’s feelings pretty accurately, he thought. Catelyn was probably right, she usually was, but… Ned couldn’t quite shake the almost instinctual feeling he had that travelling south would be a bad idea.

His voice is tired and melancholic as he looks at them and says that his father went south once for a king’s summons. He never came home again.

The children’s eyes were wide. Father never talked about his father Rickard. Worry was pooling in Arya’s stomach. What if Father never came home again either?

Luwin says it was a different time, and a different king.

Ned sits down, telling Catelyn she must stay in Winterfell – Catelyn protests, but to no avail - to run the north while Ned is away. Robb is fourteen and there must always be a Stark in Winterfell. He must be ready when his time comes and Catelyn must help him learn how to rule. Winter is coming.

Robb listened intently, his attention spiked. He knew his role as heir well enough, but had never expected to be asked to rule in his father’s stead so soon! At least he would have his mother to help him, even if his father would be away, he comforted himself.

Silence falls until Catelyn gathers her courage to ask about the other children. Ned stands, taking her in his arms, and says that Rickon will stay with her and Robb but he will take the others with him.

Bran grinned widely at the prospect of going to King’s Landing, and he and Sansa shared an excited smile. Arya was excited at the prospect of adventure, but quite sad that she would have to leave Winterfell, Robb, Rickon, Mother and especially Jon behind.

Sansa will wed Joffrey so she must come

Sansa beamed at the reminder of her coming engagement.

and Arya urgently needs to learn the ways of court.

Arya discreetly rolled her eyes, and Jon hid a grin.

Catelyn thinks that Sansa will shine in the south.

Sansa smiled at her lady mother, genuinely grateful for the compliment.

And the gods know that Arya needs refinement. But she can’t let go of Bran. Never Bran.

Bran’s eyes widened in fear as he read this sentence. He loved his mother with all his heart, of course he did, but would Mother not let him go to King’s Landing? Would she not allow him to become a knight of the Kingsguard? He hoped desperately his father would be able to convince her.

She begs Ned to at least let Bran remain in Winterfell. He is only seven, after all.
Ned says that seven is not too young to leave home, as Ned was eight when he left for the Eyrie. Bran is a sweet boy, quick to laugh

He smiled shyly at the compliment.

and that Bran can befriend the young princes and bridge the distance between the houses.

Bran sighed in relief. He didn’t want to stay here with only Rickon for company while everyone left for King’s Landing.

Catelyn knows that Ned is right but that doesn’t ease the pain. She feels lonely already; Winterfell is so big. She tells Ned bravely to keep Bran off the walls as he loves to climb so much.

Bran smiled sadly at his mother, who had a thoughtful expression on her face. As she noticed his cautious look, she quickly smiled at her son to reassure him.

Ned kisses her gently and thanks her. Luwin asks Ned about Jon Snow

The atmosphere immediately turned tense and awkward. Jon had been wondering when his name was going to pop up again amist all this talk about his siblings, but he wasn’t looking forward to it. He silently braced himself for Lady Catelyn’s inner thoughts.

and Catelyn tenses at the mention of the name.

Catelyn noticed the uncomfortable glances going around the room, and innerly shielded herself. She didn’t like thinking about Jon, and it was a very strange experience to have one’s private thoughts written out so utterly accurately.

She knows that many men father bastards.

Ned frowned unhappily. He hated this, listening to her thoughts, her bad impression of him.

She hadn’t been surprised that he had fathered a child during their first year of marriage, and had been much more preoccupied with Robb than some man she barely knew.

Robb was interested despite himself, as he had never really heard the story from her perspective before, but was much more interested in making sure Jon was alright.

But Ned had brought his bastard home and called him son, allowing him to live in Winterfell.

Jon’s empty expression hadn’t changed since this section had begun, and both Robb and Arya were looking at him in concern.

That had cut deep. Ned never spoke of the mother, but Catelyn heard rumours in the castle about Ashara Dayne, and her violet eyes.

Something changed in Jon’s eyes. Was this the moment Jon would find out something? Something real, about his mother? He tried not to get his hopes up, but his breathing caught in his chest, and he silently willed Bran to go on.

And one night, Catelyn had gathered her courage and asked him about Jon.

Catelyn closed her eyes in resignation. She hadn’t wanted her children to hear about any of this. She knew they all loved Jon like a brother, and she didn’t want to make anyone choose between her and Jon. This entire conflict should have stayed between her and Ned.

That had been the only time her husband had ever scared her.

Ned looked at his wife in shock. She had never told him this. He reached out and squeezed her hand. He loved Catelyn with all his heart, and never wanted to hurt her, but he loved Jon too. This entire situation was impossible.

Coldly, he had told her never to ask him about Jon again, that Jon is his blood and that is all Catelyn needs to know. Ashara Dayne’s name has never been heard in Winterfell again, and the whispering stopped.

Ned must have loved Jon’s mother a lot though, because Catelyn could never persuade Ned to send Jon away. It is the one thing she can’t forgive Ned, and she finds it impossible to love Jon. He is always there and even worse, he looks more like Ned than any of their trueborn sons.

Now she tells Ned that Jon must go.

Jon’s eyes widened in shock and sadness. He knew, had known his entire life, that he didn’t truly belong in Winterfell, but had never expected to just… be kicked out. He couldn’t help a rush of anger at Lady Catelyn, but that was gone as quickly as it came. He didn’t know what to feel. Yes, he had planned on going to the Night’s Watch. But to be forced to leave his home, his siblings just because his father would no longer be there?

Arya tried to say something to comfort him, but he cut her off with a sad smile.

Bran’s voice shook slightly as he continued reading.

Ned says that Jon and Robb are close, and that Ned had hoped…

But Catelyn cuts him off. She tells him that Jon cannot stay here. Jon is not her son, and he needs to leave.

Arya took one last look at Jon’s sad expression and couldn’t help herself. “It’s not Jon’s fault what he looks like, Mother! It wasn’t his fault he was born!”

Jon gave Arya a warning look and said “Don’t Arya, it’s alright, -“

“It’s not alright!” Arya snapped at Jon, and turned immediately back to her mother. “You always hated Jon! He’s my brother, he’s part of the family, why can’t you accept him?”

“Arya, that’s enough.” Catelyn’s voice was cold as ice. She softened at her daughter’s wide eyed expression. “Don’t scream at me again. Yes, I admit I never wanted Jon here in Winterfell. But I don’t hate him. I’m sorry I made you feel that way, Jon. I’m just angry at the entire situation, and I sometimes lash out, and that is wrong of me. But this gives you no right to talk to me like this, Arya.”

Arya looked down, still fuming but at the same time regretting the way she had handled that. “I’m sorry I shouted at you, Mother.”

“It’s alright, Arya. Let’s all calm down and finish this chapter as quickly as we can. Bran, there isn’t much left, is there?”

“Just one more page, Mother,” Bran said.

She knows this is hard but it is the truth.

Ned is anguished as he knows he can’t take Jon south. There will be no place for him at court and he will be shunned. How can Catelyn be so cruel? Jon is only a boy. Ned is furious.

Arya opened her mouth to say something but Sansa cut her off with a glare. Sansa hates conflict and the situation is tense enough, there is no need to make it worse.

Maester Luwin interrupts their argument and tells them that Benjen told him that Jon wishes to take the black. Ned looks shocked, but Catelyn sees immediately that this is the perfect solution. Benjen Stark would take good care of Jon, and once Jon has taken the oath he would father no sons who might contest with Catelyn’s grandchildren for Winterfell.

Jon quietly spoke up. “I would never do that under any circumstances, Lady Catelyn, you know that, right? I would never steal Winterfell.”

Robb smiled at his brother and nodded, but Catelyn couldn’t bring herself to. She looked straight ahead, praying to all seven gods that the chapter would be over soon.

Robb looked at his mother uncertainly but whispered reassuringly to Jon: “I’m sure she does, it’s just a difficult situation right now.”

Luwin says there is great honour in the Night’s Watch and Ned reflects, but he still seems unsure. A bastard can rise high in the Watch, but Jon is only fourteen.

Ned smiled at Jon’s worried expression. “I would never forbid you from joining, Jon. I just want to be sure you’ll be happy.”

Jon smiled back. “I think it’s the best place for me, Father.”

Finally he sighs and agrees, saying that it is probably for the best. He will speak to Ben. Ned tells them that it will be a fortnight before they all depart and Jon should enjoy his last few days. When the time comes, Ned will tell Jon himself.

“This chapter is over!” Bran announced with a sigh of relief.

Tensions were really rising higher with every new chapter, Catelyn thought. She dreaded to think what was in the rest of the book if this was already so bad.

Ned looked around at the relieved faces of his family and asked: “Does anyone have urgent questions to ask or topics to address? I know the things we have read about have been a bit tense lately and I apologise for that. But it is important that we do read this and find out about the issues and problems we face, as well as the problems we will face in the future.”

Everyone nodded in understanding. No one spoke up with anything urgent, though.

“Should we read one last chapter before we finish for today?” Robb asked.

Ned nodded, and said: “That sounds like a good idea, Robb. I suppose it’s my turn again now, isn’t it?”

He held his hand out for the book and Bran walked over to hand it on.

Chapter Text

As Ned’s eyes skimmed over the first page of the chapter, he smiled. “I believe this is the first chapter from Arya’s perspective,” he said.

Everyone turned to look at Arya, who seemed surprised. “I hadn’t been expecting a chapter of my own,” she said, slowly starting to grin. “This is so exciting! I wonder what will happen. Start reading, Father!”

Ned smiled indulgently at his daughter, happy to forget the tense atmosphere of the past few chapters, and started to read aloud.

Arya’s stitches are crooked again.

“Oh,” Arya said in disappointment. “It’s about my needlework lessons.”

Sansa looked over at her sister, frowning at her lack of enthusiasm for these things, but elected not to say anything. She was far too used to Arya’s ways by now to complain about something like this.

She frowns at them and glances over at her sister Sansa. Sansa’s needlework is exquisite – everyone says so.

Sansa smiled modestly, oddly grateful for the compliment – even if it was only in future Arya’s thoughts.

Catelyn allowed a proud smile onto her face as she observed her eldest daughter. “You have a genuine talent, Sansa,” Catelyn said softly. Sansa’s face lit up at her mother’s comment.

Once Septa Mordane told their mother that Sansa’s needlework is as pretty as she is, but said that Arya has the hands of a blacksmith.

Jon frowned in concern and righteous anger. What gave Septa Mordane the right to say that about his little sister? He looked over, expecting a similar look of indignation on Arya’s face, but she had simply lifted her chin stubbornly, her expression carefully blank. Jon silently reached to ruffle Arya’s hair as a show of support, and she gave him a tiny smile in response.

Arya looks around the room, worried that the septa might have read her thoughts, but the septa is sitting by Princess Myrcella, smiling in admiration.

Arya rolled her eyes, sharing a grin with Bran. Ned carried on reading, oblivious.

Arya thinks Princess Myrcella’s stitches are a little crooked too, but you’d never know it from how the septa is cooing.

Ned suppressed a laugh at Arya’s silent cheek. Arya noticed and brightened instantly, oddly proud of her future self for making her father laugh.

Arya gives up on her work and puts down the needle, sighing. Looking glumly at Sansa, she sees that Sansa is chatting happily with Jeyne Poole and Beth Cassel as she works. Arya asks them what they are talking about.

Startled, Sansa looks at her sister in surprise. Arya wasn’t usually interested in her conversations with her friends. Why was she asking now?

Jeyne giggles, startled, and Sansa blushes. No one answers her, so Arya asks them again.

Robb leaned over to Jon and whispered: “Knowing her, it’ll be about Joffrey!”

Jon grinned at his brother, but remained silent. He was still on edge from last chapter and didn’t want to draw Lady Stark’s attention again.

With a voice as soft as a kiss, Sansa says that they were talking about the prince.

Arya rolled her eyes at this expected outcome, while Sansa blushed.

Arya knows they are talking about Joffrey, the tall handsome one. At the feast Sansa got to sit with him, while naturally, Arya had to sit next to the small fat one.

Catelyn looked at her youngest daughter in concern. Was Arya jealous of Sansa? Catelyn had always assumed Arya just didn’t care about those things, but maybe Arya had wanted to sit beside Joffrey too?

Ned noticed his wife’s concerned look and shook his head gently. He was pretty sure Arya didn’t care about Joffrey at all, but didn’t want to make a scene, so he quickly continued reading.

Jeyne whispers that Joffrey likes Sansa, and that he told Sansa she was very beautiful.

Sansa blushed even harder and couldn’t quite suppress a smile. She couldn’t wait to marry him, and be queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She opened her mouth to tell her mother, but noticed her older brothers’ amused glances and fell silent, feeling strangely self-conscious.

Bran didn’t have any such qualms, though, and said loudly: “I can’t wait until we’re in King’s Landing. I’ll be a knight of the Kingsguard and Sansa will be queen, and – oh, do you think you can come to Sansa’s wedding?” he asked his mother.

She smiled gently. “I certainly hope so, but remember, we are not making any plans until the book is finished. We don’t know yet what we’ll find out.”

Bran nodded, slightly disgruntled.

Beth says dreamily that he’s going to marry her and Sansa will be queen.
Sansa blushes prettily – she does everything prettily – and tells gently Beth not to make up stories.

“So Father hasn’t told future you yet whether you are marrying Joffrey?” Arya asked Sansa.

Sansa looked slightly shocked at being directly addressed, but replied: “Evidently not, no.”

Ned overheard their soft conversation and said: “I’m sure I was just waiting for the right time to tell you, Sansa. It is a very big decision, after all.”

Sansa smiled softly and nodded in understanding.

She looks at Arya, asking her opinion of Joffrey.

Arya raised an eyebrow in surprise that her sister wanted her opinion.

Arya tells Sansa that Jon says he looks like a girl.

Arya and Jon shared a quick grin, but Sansa didn’t seem amused. Catelyn looked at Arya sternly for laughing at her sister’s betrothed, but remained silent.

Sansa sighs and says that poor Jon gets jealous because he’s a bastard.

Jon’s grin disappeared as quickly as it had come, leaving a carefully blank mask in place.

Arya and Robb gave Sansa identical annoyed looks, but she chose to ignore her siblings’ disapproval, stubbornly looking away. She stood by her future self’s word choice – after all, it was the truth, wasn’t it?

Ned sighed heavily at the recurring tension between his children. Was his family doomed to become uncomfortable every time this word was mentioned? Was it even possible to fix this awkwardness he had created? Choosing to ignore the tension for now, Ned quickly turned back to the book.

Arya tells her much too loudly that he’s their brother, and Septa Mordane raises her eyes, frowning, and asks what they are talking about.

Sansa corrects Arya softly: Jon is their half-brother. Then she smiles at the septa, and tells her how pleased they all are to have the princess with them today.

Arya got angrier the longer this scene went on. Why must Sansa insist on calling Jon half-brother? Why couldn’t he just be one of them? The world was so unfair! It was just like Sansa to crush Jon’s wishes completely with her perfect manners and her perfect smiles.

Just as she opened her mouth to confront her sister, Jon put a calming hand onto her arm. 

“Don’t,” he murmured. “This is the future, remember? It hasn’t actually happened. I don’t mind, Arya, it’s not worth it.”

Arya took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down as her father continued reading.

The septa nods and agrees, then asks Arya why she is not at work, and asks to see her stitches.

Arya wants to scream.

Ned looks at his daughter in concern. He hadn’t known she was this unhappy in her lessons. Maybe there was a way to help her find more joy in them? It was essential for her to learn, but if she was feeling this frustrated… He shook his head to put those thoughts to the back of his mind. He could deal with this problem later.

It’s just like Sansa to attract the septa’s attention. She reluctantly shows her work, and the septa frowns in disappointment and tells her off.

Everyone is looking at Arya. It’s too much. Sansa is too polite to laugh at her, but Jeyne is smirking and even Myrcella looks sorry for her.

Arya’s eyes widened in mortification. “Leave!” she screamed silently at her future self. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, she chanted in her head. That was possibly the one thing that would make this situation even worse.

Arya feels tears in her eyes and bolts for the door.

Arya looked down, annoyed at her future self and ashamed of her reaction. Her family looked deeply concerned, but no one spoke up, cautious of drawing too much attention to the situation.

Septa Mordane stops her and says that her lady mother will hear about this – and in front of the princess too! Arya turns and bows stiffly to Myrcella. The tears are streaming down her face now. She apologises to the princess and tells the septa sweetly that she has to shoe a horse.

Arya let out a breathy laugh at her joke, glad to see her future self recovering quickly. Jon managed a grin for the quip, but was too worried about his sister to do anything else.

Arya looked straight ahead, conscious of the concerned looks her family were giving her.

She clenched her jaw and mentally urged her father to keep reading, unwilling to spend any more time on this horrific situation.

Then she whirls around and runs as fast as she can.

It’s not fair, Sansa has everything.

Ned paused briefly, uncomfortable sharing his daughter’s fears and insecurities with everyone. He knew he couldn’t skip anything though, so continued reading bravely, praying this section would be over soon.

She is two years older, and can sew, dance, sing, and write poetry. She knows how to dress and can play the high harp.

Sansa didn’t know what to say. Did her sister really feel like this? Like she wasn’t good enough? All her life, Sansa had assumed that Arya just wanted to be difficult, and couldn’t be bothered to try being a lady. Sansa thought she was the one who felt left out of the sibling dynamics, but the whole time, Arya had been the one who felt inadequate?

Arya stared resolutely down at her feet, not looking at anyone.

Even worse, she is beautiful – Sansa had inherited her mother’s high cheekbones and thick auburn hair, while Arya had her father’s long face and dull, brown hair. Jeyne used to call her horse face.

Catelyn looked at her daughter in sadness. Maybe she hadn’t spent enough time with her? Hadn’t been a good enough mother for Arya? She always seemed so confident and full of life – Catelyn had never even thought about Arya harbouring insecurities about her looks.

Catelyn turned to her daughter to reassure her, but chose to remain silent at Arya’s steely expression. Catelyn promised herself she would talk to Arya about this later.

It hurts that the only thing Arya is better at than Sansa is ride horses. And manage a household – Sansa is useless at figures.

Sansa gasped in outrage at her sister’s comment, but was strangely glad at the turn of her sister’s thought process. This sounded more like the Arya she knew.

Arya wishes for Sansa’s sake that Prince Joff has a good steward.

Jon let out a chuckle at that, glad his little sister was back to normal. He knew she hadn’t felt comfortable with her insecurities being so accurately depicted – he felt the exact same way about his chapter too, after all.

Arya grins when she sees Nymeria waiting for her outside. The wolf loves her even if no one else does. Nymeria has yellow eyes that gleam in the sun - she is named after a great warrior queen. Sansa had named her wolf Lady, of course.

“Hey! Don’t say anything against Lady!” Sansa said with a soft smile, wanting to cheer her sister up. Arya grinned in return, happy the tension was broken.

Arya knows she can’t go to her room, as Septa Mordane and her lady mother would find her then. She has a better idea. The boys are at practice, and Arya wants to see Robb win against gallant Prince Joffrey.

Robb let out a mock cheer, and Jon, Arya and Bran laughed. Energy was returning back into the room, as everyone was glad to hear of a lighter topic for a while.

There is a window in the bridge by the Great Keep where you had a view of the whole practice yard, and that is where they are headed.

Arya and Nymeria arrive at the window, breathless, to find Jon seated on the sill, one leg drawn up to his chin.

Arya grinned in excitement. Now the chapter was starting to get fun! Fighting practice and a conversation with Jon – why had she wasted that much time with needlework?

Ned glanced curiously between his children, oddly interested to hear what they would talk about.

Jon is so absorbed in the action that he doesn’t notice Arya until Ghost moves to meet them. Jon gives her a curious look, and asks Arya why she isn’t working on her stitches.

Arya makes a face and says she wanted to see them fight. Jon smiles and invites her to sit next to him. Looking down, Arya is disappointed to see Bran and Tommen training.

Bran definitely wasn’t disappointed though, and his grin grew wider. Eyes shining in excitement at the prospect of him training with the prince, he waited to hear what would happen.

They are hitting at each other with padded wooden swords as a dozen spectators are calling out encouragements. Robb’s voice is the loudest, and Theon is next to him with a look of contempt on his face.

Robb smiled. He couldn’t imagine anything better than being in the training yard with Theon and his siblings, except maybe having the chance to knock Prince Joffrey into the dirt. If this was all the future held, Robb was very happy at this prospect.

Jon points out that this is a shade more exhausting than needlework, but Arya immediately says it’s a shade more fun than needlework.

Jon and Arya grinned at each other, glad they hadn’t changed too much in this future.

Catelyn sighed in disapproval at this whole situation, but couldn’t bring herself to step in, happy to see a smile back on her daughter’s face.

Jon grins, reaching out to mess up her hair. Jon and Arya have always been close, as the only two with their father’s features. When Arya was small, she had been scared that it meant she was a bastard too. She had gone to Jon with her fear and Jon had reassured her.

Arya’s eyes widened, and she glanced at Jon, feeling uncomfortable. She hadn’t expected this to be mentioned in the book. How had the book known that? No one knew except her and Jon, and neither of them had told anyone! What other secrets of hers would the book reveal?

Robb looked at Arya and Jon in surprise. Jon had never told him about this before! Had Arya really felt this way?

Ned kept his mask firmly in place as similar thoughts rushed through his head. He had never wanted any of his children to feel this way. He was learning more and more about his family with every chapter. What other insecurities had his wife and children kept from him?

Arya asks why Jon isn’t in the yard, and he replies that bastards are not allowed to harm young princes in the practice yard.

Arya flushed, feeling stupid for not realising this herself.

Oh, Arya says, feeling ashamed for not having realised this. For the second time that day, she reflects on how unfair life is.

Jon smiled at his sister’s thoughtfulness. He was so used to being treated differently, he hadn’t often considered the idea that Arya might still be surprised at the treatment he received.

She says that she could do just as well as Bran, as she is nine while he is only seven

“No you can’t!” Bran said immediately.

“Of course I can!” Arya retorted.

“Children!” Ned said loudly, “stop fighting. There is not too much of the chapter left, let us just finish this, alright?”

but Jon tells his little sister that she is too skinny and probably couldn’t even lift a longsword.

Bran lifted his head stubbornly, grateful for Jon’s support.

Jon points out Prince Joffrey, who is surrounded squires and knights. Jon tells her to look at the arms on his coat, and Arya sees that it is divided along the middle, half stag, half lion.

“That is weird,” Robb said, “I never thought about that before. None of the other kings incorporated their queen’s arms into their coat, right? Why did King Robert?”

No one was willing to provide a satisfactory answer, but Robb continued to mull that over.

Jon says that the Lannisters are proud, and Joffrey’s mother’s house is made equal to the king’s. Arya protests that women are important too, and Jon makes a joke about her combining Tully and Stark in her arms. Arya laughs and says that a wolf with a fish in its mouth would look silly.

Everyone laughed at that mental image.

It was ridiculous for the royal coat of arms to include the queen’s childhood house, Ned reflected, but then Cersei had always been very proud. Maybe this was Robert’s way of honouring House Lannister’s pivotal role during the Rebellion?

Why can a girl have a coat of arms if she can’t fight?

Catelyn sighed at her daughter’s train of thought. Arya had always asked questions like these, obsessed as she was with fighting and training and archery. Catelyn had hoped Arya would grow out of this mindset, but now she was starting to realise that might never happen.

Jon shrugs, and says that girls get arms but not swords, and bastards get swords but not arms. He did not make the rules.

Everyone in the room was strangely silent as no one could quite figure out what to say to that statement. Ned continued reading before the atmosphere grew too awkward.

In the yard below, Bran has successfully knocked Prince Tommen over

Bran let out a cheer in excitement as Robb and Jon clapped, laughing.

and the men begin to laugh. Ser Rodrik tells Robb and Joffrey to go another round.

“Another round?” Robb asked excitedly, Bran’s success forgotten. “Have we fought already? Do you think I won?”

“Probably,” Jon replied. “Joffrey is only twelve, after all.”

Robb gave Jon a playful shove, not taking his eyes off the book. Finally there was something positive to concentrate on instead of the hostile tensions between his mother and Jon.

“Please keep reading, Father!” Robb said.

Ned laughed softly, and turned back to the book.

Robb moves forward eagerly, but Joffrey looks bored and says that this is a game for children.

Robb frowned in disappointment.

Theon laughs and says they are children. Joffrey disagrees. Robb may be a child but he is a prince, and is bored by this exercise.

Jon, Arya, Bran and Robb were all equally offended by this statement.

“Robb is two whole years older than you!” Arya said angrily. “If Robb is a child, you are definitely one too.”

“It’s not boring!” Bran exclaimed angrily.

“He’s probably just afraid to face me,” Robb scoffed.

“He’s a coward,” Jon agreed.

Sansa was uncomfortable with this tirade of anger. “You shouldn’t speak of the prince like that,” she said gently. “He must have just been tired.”

Robb asks if Joff is afraid, and Joffrey says he is absolutely terrified as Robb is so much older.

Robb bristled in offence. “How dare he!”

Ned looked at his four angry children, and said: “Calm down. Robb, there is no use getting angry, Joffrey isn’t even here, and he certainly hasn’t even said these things to you yet. The chapter is almost finished, and then we can take a break.”

Robb took a deep breath, but was still visibly annoyed.

The Lannister men laugh at the joke.

Jon frowns and says to Arya that Joffrey is truly a little shit.

Catelyn scowled in disapproval. He was saying those words to her daughter? No wonder Arya used more and more rude language the older she got. Perhaps Catelyn should keep a closer eye on Arya’s influences.

Joffrey suggests live steel, and Robb immediately agrees. Ser Rodrik forbids it, as they are both too young.

Ned nodded in approval. At least Ser Rodrik could be trusted to keep the situation from escalating.

A man with a horrible burn scar argues with Ser Rodrik, and says that he killed a man when he was twelve, so age shouldn’t be an excuse.

Robb’s pride is wounded and he bristles, asking Ser Rodrik to let him fight with live steel, but Ser Rodrik still refuses.

“Robb, you should know better than to fight in the training yard with live steel, especially with your brother around,” Ned reminded Robb.

“I’m sorry, Father,” Robb said softly. “I must have gotten carried away.”

Joffrey shrugs and tells Robb to see him when Robb is older, if he’s not too old. The Lannister men laugh again. Robb curses loudly

“Robb!” Catelyn says, frowning in disappointment. Robb gave his mother another apologetic look. This really wasn’t his best chapter behaviour wise, he was realising.

and Arya covers her mouth in shock.

Jon looked at Arya, surprised at her shock. Wasn’t she used to Robb’s cursing?

Arya blushed at Jon’s reaction. If something similar to this happened at some point in the future, she vowed silently not to act like Sansa again.

Theon grabs Robb’s arm tightly to keep him from attacking the prince as Joffrey leaves with another sarcastic remark.

Robb smiled gratefully at the thought of Theon keeping him from doing something stupid. The prince was truly irritating and obnoxious. He was not looking forward to dealing with that prick.

Jon watches them leave, and Arya watches Jon. His face is still, and he climbs down with a sigh, saying the show is done. He tells his little sister that she had best run back to her room. Septa Mordane will be lurking, and there will more punishment the longer Arya hides. She’ll be sewing all winter, and when the spring comes, they will find her body with a needle between her frozen fingers.

Ned frowned. What an odd thing to say to a little girl, he thought. Seeing that there were only a few lines left of the chapter, though, he just kept reading.

Arya does not find this funny, and shouts that she hates sewing, and it isn’t fair!

Jon messes up her hair again and says that nothing is fair, and walks away with Ghost.

Arya turns in the other direction, but when she comes to her room, she sees that it was even worse than Jon had thought. Septa Mordane and her mother were waiting in Arya’s room.

“That’s this chapter finished,” Ned said, closing the book.

Bran smiled. “At least nothing too bad happened in this chapter,” he said. “Are we continuing?”

“No,” Ned said. “I think we’re all quite tired, and should probably stop for the day. We have learnt a lot already, and there is much to discuss.”

Catelyn looked around the room. “Should we meet here after breakfast? Girls, I have excused you from your lessons already, so you needn’t worry about that.”

Sansa smiled. “Thank you, Mother.”

“Alright,” Robb said. “I’m going to the Great Hall for some dinner. Are you all coming?”

And with that, they all left the room for the day, everyone following their own train of thought.

Chapter Text

The next morning found them all refreshed and energised, ready to continue reading. It was hard to believe that the book had only appeared yesterday, with all the things that had already happened to the Stark family.

Ned and Catelyn were the first to rise from the breakfast table and they made their way to the study slowly, arms linked. Last night they had spoken a little about the problems the book had uncovered so far, and while the issue of Jon still hung over them, unresolved, they were both determined to keep going undeterred.

Arya and Bran quickly finished their food and raced after their parents while Sansa followed at a much slower pace.

Robb and Jon exchanged a glance as their siblings left the Great Hall, and quickly jumped up as well. Theon’s eyes followed his best friend, a confused expression on his face, but he stubbornly remained seated. He didn’t want to confront Robb again. Surely Robb would tell him what he was doing when he was ready, Theon comforted himself.

“Alright,” Ned said when the whole family was seated, “who would like to recap what we found out yesterday?”

Bran quickly spoke up. “The Others are real and they killed two people in the Night’s Watch, but left the third person alive.”

Robb joined in. “Yes, and Father had him executed and we found the direwolves that day, but we knew that already. Then the book moved into the future and we found out that the King is coming to Winterfell to ask Father to be his Hand.”

“And to promise me to Prince Joffrey,” Sansa added softly.

Arya rolled her eyes at Sansa, but continued. “And so far we’ve had a chapter from everyone’s perspective, except for Robb and Sansa. Oh, and Daenerys Targaryen is in Pentos at the moment with her horrible brother, and is betrothed to a Dothraki. What was his name again? Khal…”

“Khal Drogo,” Jon said.

Ned nodded at his children, approving of their quick summary. “We should really write important dates and details down as to not forget them, but I’m sure we can remember everything for now.”

Catelyn looked at her children, her eyes passing over Jon completely. Just because she had heard Jon’s thoughts on the situation last night, that did not change the situation at hand, and she certainly wasn’t willing to forgive him for it. “If no one has any pressing to concerns to address?” she asked the room at large. Everyone present shook their heads. “Then we shall begin.”

Robb volunteered to read the next chapter, holding out his hand. Nothing too terrible had happened so far, after all, and he was honestly just finding this book much too exciting and mysterious to be worried.

“This is another chapter from Bran’s perspective,” Robb announced, turning to the book. “If everyone’s ready, I’ll start reading aloud, shall I?”

Everyone nodded in agreement, and Robb began reading, interested to find out what else would happen in their futures.

The hunt left at dawn, and Prince Joffrey and Robb were allowed to join their fathers.

Robb grinned in excitement. He hardly ever got to go on a real hunt! Maybe there were advantages to the King’s visit after all.

Uncle Benjen, Theon, Jory, Ser Rodrik and even Tyrion had left Winterfell too, as this is the last chance for a hunt. They are planning on riding south tomorrow.

“So this takes place on the day before everyone leaves?” Catelyn asked. “What could possibly happen so close to the departure to warrant another chapter?”

“I’m sure we’ll find out soon, my lady,” Ned replied. “It will probably just be a chapter of Bran saying goodbye to everyone, or something similar.”

Catelyn smiled at her husband, grateful for the reassurance, and turned back towards her oldest son.

Bran is left behind with Jon, the girls and Rickon. But Rickon is a baby and the girls are girls

“Hey!” Arya exclaimed, bristling in offence.

“Sorry, Arya,” Bran said with a grin. “I’m sure future me didn’t mean it like that.”

“Better not,” Arya grumbled, still insulted at being called a girl by her baby brother.

and Bran can’t find Jon anywhere, though he doesn’t try very hard.

Jon frowned in disappointment. He had thought he got on well with Bran? Had he read their relationship wrong?

Jon seems to be angry at everyone lately.

Jon’s eyes widened in realisation. Of course he would be angry after what happened the last couple of chapters! Though he hoped his future self would recover from the anger enough to remain friendly with his siblings, at least. He hated the thought that Bran would not want to approach him just because Jon was in a bad mood.

Bran doesn’t understand, because Jon is going to the Night’s Watch, and that’s almost as good as going to King’s Landing. Robb is the one being left behind, not Jon.

Robb raised an eyebrow at Bran in surprise, grateful for the sympathy, though it was unnecessary. Of course Robb wanted to see King’s Landing too, but he was very happy to stay in Winterfell. At least he would be able to keep in contact with his family, whereas Jon would be forced to abandon them forever if he did join the Night’s Watch.

For days, Bran has been excited to leave.

A slow grin appeared on Bran’s face that grew the longer Robb kept reading, until Bran was practically bouncing in excitement.

He is going to ride south on a real horse, not a pony, and his father will be the Hand, and they will live in the red castle. Old Nan says there are ghosts and dungeons, which makes Bran shiver, but he is not scared. How can he be scared with his father and all the knights there with him?

Ned let a soft smile appear on his face, strangely touched by that thought.

Bran, on the other hand, lifted his head proudly, in full agreement with his future self. He was much too excited for his life to finally begin to let something like fear stop him. It wasn’t like anything could happen to him with his father there to protect him, after all.

One day Bran will be a knight too, in the Kingsguard. They are the finest swords in the realm – Bran knows all the stories of Serwyn the Mirror Shield, and Ser Ryam Redwyne, Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning and Barristan the Bold.

Robb looked at Bran fondly as he read out the list of knights that Bran looked up to. He remembered that feeling all too well, of being seven years old and playing in the courtyard with your friends and your head full of adventure, dreaming of the brave deeds of those legendary knights. Sharing a quick glance with Jon, he knew Jon felt the same way.

Two kingsguards came north with the King, and Bran had watched them from a distance but had never been brave enough to speak with them. But the greatest living knight was Ser Barristan Selmy, and Father had promised Bran he would meet him. Bran had been counting down the days, eager to leave and begin his life.

Catelyn reached out to stroke Bran’s hair, smiling softly. She generally disapproved of Bran’s eagerness and adventurous personality, as she was tired of constantly worrying about his safety, but she couldn’t deny the infectious excitement she heard in these words and the bright joy shining in her son’s eyes as he listened to Robb read.

But now that they are almost gone, Bran feels lost.

Bran looked down, realising where his future self was going with these thoughts. Couldn’t the book just stay positive for once? Why did everyone have to be sad and frightened in this future? He didn’t want to say anything yet, though, since he could see his family’s confused expression at this sudden change in atmosphere.

Winterfell is his only home, and he has tried to say his farewells. But it’s no good. He goes to the stables first, but his pony isn’t his pony anymore, and he is leaving the pony behind, and Bran suddenly wants to sit down and cry.

Catelyn’s eyes widened in concern. She tried to give Bran a side hug in comfort, but he stiffened and looked ahead stubbornly, and Catelyn left him alone.

Arya leaned over and whispered in Bran’s ear: “I’ll miss Winterfell too, when we leave.”

Bran gave her a soft smile in gratitude, but was still uncomfortable with this onslaught of concerned attention, and said loudly: “You can continue reading, Robb, it’s alright.”

Robb nodded, smiling in understanding, and turned back to the book.

He turns and leaves before Hodor can see the tears in his eyes. He gives up on his farewells then, and goes to the godswood instead to spend time with his pup.

Bran is still trying to decide on a name. Robb called his Grey Wind, because he is grey and fast. Sansa named hers Lady, and Arya named hers after some old witch queen, and Rickon called his pup Shaggydog, which is a stupid name.

Robb let out a short laugh, surprised at the judgement in Bran’s inner thoughts. He had thought Jon and Arya’s were the only ones of his siblings to be so cynical. Maybe Bran just didn’t voice his thoughts aloud? He continued reading aloud quickly, as he didn’t want to draw any further attention to Bran, who was already uncomfortable.

Jon’s direwolf is Ghost, and Bran wishes he had thought of that first. None of Bran’s ideas sound right.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sansa said kindly. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon. There’s no rush.”

“Thanks Sansa,” Bran replied softly. He was annoyed at himself for not being more creative, though he knew rationally that Sansa was right. You couldn’t rush a name.

When Bran is bored of the godswood, he decides to go climbing.

“Bran!” Catelyn’s voice was sharp with annoyance. “What do I keep telling you? No climbing!”

Bran looked down guiltily, and said softly: “Sorry, Mother. I’ll try not to climb in this version of the future.”

“Honestly, Bran!” Catelyn said, shaking her head in disbelief. “What if you fell?”

“I never fall, Mother,” Bran said, looking at her with wide, sincere eyes.

Ned, Jon and Arya suppressed their smiles. The entire family had heard this exact conversation far too many times to take it seriously anymore.

Robb looked between his mother and brother uncertainly. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he said: “Well, since we can’t really do anything about future Bran’s actions right now, can’t we just accept that he did go climbing in the book and continue reading?”

Catelyn let out a loud sigh, but nodded her head for Robb to continue the chapter.

He runs across the godswood, avoiding the creepy tree with eyes, and comes to a stop before the broken tower. This might be his last chance to climb before he leaves.

He tells the wolf to lie down and stay, and starts climbing up a tree easily. The wolf starts howling and stands up. Bran looks back down, telling the wolf to be quiet, as he is worse than Mother with his worrying.

Bran dodged the half-playful, half-strict glare his mother sent his way at that comment, and smiled apologetically. “I’m really sorry, Mother. I’m sure my future self didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

Jon leaned over to Robb, eager to diffuse the rising tension, and whispered: “Just keep reading, Robb, so poor Bran doesn’t have to get in trouble for all his future self’s actions.”

Robb grinned in amusement and quickly turned back to the book.

The howling continues until Bran jumps up onto the armoury and is out of sight.

Winterfell’s rooftops are Bran’s second home. His mother always says that Bran could climb before he could walk.

“Much to my dismay,” Catelyn muttered under her breath. Ned heard her, an amused glint in his eyes, but Robb continued reading, oblivious.

To a boy, Winterfell is a huge labyrinth, with walls and tunnels and slanted halls. Bran likes the way is looks from above, with birds over his head and the castle down below. Bran can spend hours watching the men work and the cooks in the garden, the girls gossiping beside their washing.

A slow smile grew on Bran’s face at this completely accurate description of his feelings.

It makes Bran feel like he is lord of the castle in a way Robb would never know.

Robb threw an interested glance Bran’s way. He had never spoken to his little brother much about his love for climbing, but reading the reasons now was fascinating to Robb. Unwilling to add another interruption to the delays of reading this chapter, though, Robb continued reading, keeping his thoughts to himself.

He knows many of Winterfell’s secrets too. There is a bridge from the fourth floor of the bell tower to the second floor of the rookery, and you can get inside the south gate, climb three floors, and through a tunnel and then come out on ground level.

“Really?” Arya turned to Bran with wide eyes. “Why have you never told me about that?”

“You always want to practice with Robb and Jon in the courtyard,” Bran replied. “Plus, I never thought you’d be interested in what I do.”

“I am if it involves finding secret passageways!” she said immediately.

“Children,” Ned said loudly, interrupting their hushed conversation. “Let your brother read us this chapter in peace, you can discuss your private business another time.”

“Sorry Father,” they mumbled in unison. Robb stifled a laugh at their matching expressions, but quickly started reading aloud again before his father had a chance to scold him too.

Bran is convinced not even Maester Luwin knows about that.

His mother is terrified Bran will slip and kill himself.

“At least you understand my reasoning, even if your opinion differs from mine,” Catelyn said softly.

Bran heard her comment, but didn’t say anything in response. He didn’t want to drag this conflict back up again.

Once she made him promise to stay on the ground, a promise he kept for two miserable weeks, until one night he climbed out his window. When he confessed his crime, Lord Eddard told him to go to the godswood to repent, and he was found the next morning, fast asleep in a tree. Father had laughed, and said that Bran wasn’t his son but a squirrel, and told Bran to climb if he must.

Ned chuckled softly at that memory. He remembered that time all too well. Honestly, Ned had no idea where Bran even got the climbing from – none of Ned’s own siblings had been much inclined to climbing at all, and Bran’s other siblings had never shown an interest in it either.

Despite everyone’s best attempts to dissuade him, Bran is never afraid. He never falls. Once the guards came to chase him down, which had been fun. None of the guards were half as good as Bran at climbing and it was like playing a game with his brothers.

Another thing he likes about climbing is being invisible. No one ever looks up.

“Well, at least we now know where to look the next time Bran decides to disappear,” Jon whispered in a false cheery tone. Robb, the only person who heard him, snorted in amusement.

And he likes how it feels, pulling himself up a wall – he always climbs barefoot, which makes him feel like he has four hands. He likes how sweet the air tastes, and he likes the birds, and he likes being able to go places no one else can go, and see Winterfell in a way no one else can.

Sansa smiled softly at that description. She may not have had any desire for climbing herself, but she could definitely understand Bran’s reasoning much better now that it was all spelled out like this – Sansa loved fresh air and birds too, after all.

His favourite spot is the broken tower, which had been struck by lightning over a hundred years ago, and never been rebuilt. The best way to get to the top is from the godswood. You climb a high tree, cross over the armoury, which brings you to the First Keep. Then you go up to the gargoyles, swinging higher and higher

“At least now we know how exactly you get everywhere,” Catelyn grumbled. She still wasn’t willing to let this go. “How did you figure all these complicated routes out, anyway?”

“I really wanted to climb the tower, so I just gave it a try, and if one route didn’t work, I tried a different way. I’ve lived here my entire life, so I had plenty of time to experiment with different ways,” Bran said.

and from there, if you really stretch, you can reach out and pull yourself to the broken tower. The last part is scrambling the last ten feet up the stones.

Bran is moving from gargoyle to gargoyle when he hears the voices.

“What?” Bran said in shock. He had only been half listening, since he had known all of this information already, but that sentence brought him straight back to the ground with a jolt. “There are never people in the First Keep! Who could that be?”

He is surprised and almost loses his grip.

Catelyn let out a small scream of fear and sat up in her seat, her eyes never leaving the book in Robb’s hands. Ned reached for Catelyn’s hand and squeezed it tightly. Robb’s voice shook as he hesitantly continued reading.

The First Keep is always empty.

Bran wasn’t afraid when he heard about almost losing his grip. He never falls. But this? Who could possibly be inside? Were they hiding from someone?

A woman is saying that she does not like it, and that the person she is talking to should be the Hand.

Sansa’s eyes widened in fear. “You should leave, Bran,” she said, staring at the book. “This sounds dangerous.”

A man’s voice replied lazily that he does not want that honour, and there is too much work involved.

Bran hangs, listening, afraid to go on. They might see him if he continues swinging.

“Why would you even think about continuing to swing?” Catelyn’s voice grew louder. “Sansa is right, just get back to the ground as quickly as possible.”

The woman asks the man if he can see the danger they are in, as Robert loves the man like a brother. The man says that Robert can’t stomach his brothers – Stannis would give anyone indigestion.

Ned saw the curious glint growing in Bran’s eyes at this mystery to solve, and said cautiously: “You know it’s not your responsibility to find out who is talking or what they are discussing, right?”

“I know, Father,” Bran replied, but he was too focused on the book for Ned to believe him.

“Bran, I want you to promise me – look at me, please – I want you to promise that if this does happen to you at any point in the future, to turn straight back around and leave, alright? I don’t want you to put yourself in unnecessary danger. And your sister is right, this is dangerous.”

Bran looked at his father seriously and said softly: “I promise.”

Ned nodded, content with that answer, and turned back to Robb.

The woman replies that Stannis and Renly are very different to Eddard Stark, and Robert listens to Stark. Damn them both. She had been certain Stark would refuse Robert’s offer. The man says they are lucky Robert named Stark instead of his brothers or Littlefinger. He would prefer an honourable enemy to an ambitious one any day.

Bran realises they are talking about Father, and he wants to hear more but is afraid of being seen.

“Oh no, oh no,” Catelyn started muttering under her breath, and Ned’s grip around her hand tightened.

Arya and Sansa looked at each other with wide eyes. How had this happened? This was supposed to happen to their family in only a month’s time? How could this chapter get any worse?

The woman wants to watch Stark carefully, but the man sounds bored, and says he would rather watch her.

Jon frowned, confusion seeping through the shock still prevalent in his mind. What exactly were these people doing? Were they husband and wife? No, that was impossible, since this definitely wasn’t the king and queen, and they were the only couple that could be in Winterfell at this time.

Shaking his head slightly to clear it of this onslaught of suspicion, Jon focused on Robb’s voice again, not wanting to miss the slightest detail.

She continues talking, and says Lord Stark has never been interested in the South, and she fears he wants to move against them. Why else would he leave Winterfell? 

The man suggests many reasons: honour, fame, wanting to get away from his wife, or just wanting to be warm for once. The woman remembers that Stark’s wife is Lady Arryn’s sister, and is relieved Lysa hasn’t accused them yet.

Something clicked in Ned’s mind, and he looked at his wife to see if she had reached the same conclusion. Her face was tight with worry, and Ned could tell her thoughts were much more concerned with Bran’s safety at the moment than any conspiracy theories. But while Catelyn hadn’t had the same thought as Ned, Ned was almost certain that it was the Lannisters who were in that tower.

Bran looks down and sees a ledge below, and tries to lower himself, but realises that he can’t reach it.

“No, no, no,” Catelyn whispered frantically. She silently willed for future Bran to leave, leave before he was discovered. It was beyond frustrating to not be able to do anything to help her brave, sweet son in this moment.

The man says that there is no point in worrying, and that Lysa Arryn is a frightened cow. If she knows anything, she would have gone to Robert before leaving King’s Landing.

The woman argues that she was scared for her son’s safety, but that she will grow bolder now that he is safe in the Eyrie with her, to which the man replies that birthing must damage women’s brains, as all mothers are mad. Lysa Arryn has no proof, so it doesn’t matter.

The woman says that Lysa won’t need proof, as Robert doesn’t love her. The man tells her that is her fault, calling her his sister.

“Sister,” Jon murmured, thinking hard. Was this… no, it couldn’t be… could it? It was the only solution that made any sense, after all. Could the Lannister twins really be in that tower? Was this a confession to the murder of Jon Arryn?

Bran doesn’t know what he is hearing, but knows he isn’t meant to overhear any of this.

“Please don’t, then!” Sansa said, her voice frantic with fear. “This is horrible, I can’t – Robb, how much of the chapter is left?”

Robb quickly glanced at the book, and said: “Only a page or so.”

“Please get it over with quickly,” Sansa said, scrunching her eyes shut in resignation. Robb’s hands were shaking as he lifted the book again, but his voice was steady as he continued with the chapter.

The woman says that it’s obvious Stark is loyal to Robert, but he has already betrayed one king. She is impatiently waiting for Robert to die so Joff can take the throne. Robert is still in love with little dead Lyanna, and having Stark by his side will only make Robert’s restlessness worse. She wonders when Robert will leave her for a new Lyanna?

“Cersei,” Robb thought incredulously. Looking around at his family, he saw only pale, tense, terrified faces looking back at him. Firmly, he pushed the thought of the queen and the rest of the gods-damned Lannisters out of his mind for the moment, focusing on Bran instead.

No one dared to interrupt the chapter, as everyone was on the edge of their seats waiting to see Bran back safely on the ground.

Bran is suddenly frightened, and wants to leave and tell his brothers.

“Yes,” Jon breathed. Climb back down, Bran, please, he thought desperately. 

Bran was frightened hearing this as well. What if he was found out? What did this conversation mean for his father?

Catelyn notices her son’s growing fear and unease and hugged him close. If she couldn’t protect his future self, at least she would to everything in her power to keep her son in the present safe.

But first he has to find out who is talking.

Sansa groaned in frustration. This was not the time to be brave, little brother! she screamed in her head. This was by far the worst chapter yet, she thought. Sansa prayed for it to finally be over.

The man sighs and tells the woman she should think more about the pleasures at hand, and

Robb fell silent seeing the rest of that sentence. They did not need that added detail on top of the other fears and tensions in this chapter, he thought. But as his parents and siblings slowly lifted their gazes from the book to Robb’s face, identical confused expressions on their faces, Robb took a deep breath and bravely continued reading.

Bran hears a slap of flesh on flesh, followed by laughter.

Bran climbs over the gargoyle and crawls onto the roof. He moves right above the window where they are talking.

The man calls her his sister again and tells her to come to him quietly.

Catelyn let out a sudden gasp of shock. “That’s the queen and the Kingslayer! How did I not recognise them sooner?”

Ned nodded in agreement, but Bran looked at his mother in surprise. That hadn’t even crossed his mind yet. To be fair, he had been much more concerned with the possible discovery of his future self, but still – looking at all the clues it made perfect sense.

“Can we please discuss this another time!” Arya shouted in frustration. “I need to know what happens to Bran!”

Bran sits down on the gargoyle, hangs himself upside down, and looks through the window. Inside, the man and the woman are wrestling, and both are naked. The man is pushing the woman up against a wall. Bran realises they are kissing.

Jon shook his head in disgust. Weren’t they twins? Not only was this adultery and the Kingslayer breaking yet another oath, but it was also incest!

Robb had a much different concern in his mind. If Bran was looking through the window now, and he could see them, what was stopping the Lannisters from looking up and spotting Bran? More desperate than ever to finally finish this endless chapter, he kept reading relentlessly. It seemed like it was years ago that they had read about Bran playing in the godswood.

The man must be hurting the woman because she moans, but she doesn’t push him away. Bran sees her face. Her golden hair is messy and her head is moving, but he recognises the queen.

Ned closed his eyes in resignation. Now there was no doubt at all. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ned felt sorry for Robert, but most of his attention was still concerned with panicking about Bran’s safety, so he mentally urged Robb to continue reading.

Suddenly her eyes open, and she is staring at him, letting out a scream.

“No!” Everyone shouted in unison. Robb stared at the book in shock as Bran started quivering, mindless with fear for his future self.

Robb visibly pulled himself together as his family threatened to descend into panic, and forced himself to read the next sentence in a steady voice – or as steady as he could make it, anyway.

She pushes the man away as Bran loses his grip from shock, and his legs slip, and

Robb’s voice broke. Taking a deep breath, he whispered the last few words. They echoed in the silent room.

he is falling.

Catelyn pulled Bran impossibly closer to her as her face drained of colour, and Bran froze in shock. He had never truly considered the possibility of falling before. What would happen to him?

He feels a sickening lurch in his stomach and reaches out for the ledge, hanging one-handed, panting.

There was a collective sigh of relief at this development. So Bran would be fine after all.

Even Bran himself gained a little courage from the sentence – yes, he fell, but he caught himself! It would be alright. With wide eyes, he silently begged Robb to just finish the chapter already. Nothing bad would happen anymore, right?

He sees the queen and the man look down at him, and recognises him as the queen’s twin brother. The woman says shrilly that he saw them, and the man calmly offers Bran his hand, seeing that Bran is about to lose his grip.

Bran holds onto the arm with all his strength, and the man pulls him onto the ledge.

Catelyn closed her eyes in relief, breathing out a prayer of thanks for the gods. Her baby boy would be alright. She blinked hard to cover up the tears that had been threatening to spill, and hugged Bran to her side.

He asks Bran how old he is. Bran says he is seven, and lets go of the arm sheepishly. The man looks at the woman, and

Robb hesitated. Jon, the only one who noticed, narrowed his eyes at him questioningly, but Robb’s gaze was glued to the last paragraph. Looking fearfully at his brother, still being hugged by their mother, he ignored the tears gathering in his eyes as he choked out the next few lines.

He says “The things I do for love.”

He shoves Bran.

Catelyn looked around in desperation and let out a scream. “No, no, no! This can’t be happening!” Her voice, starting as a whisper, grew louder and louder until she was screaming again.

Sansa was crying uncontrollably, and Arya held her hand in support, trying and failing to suppress her own tears.

Jon’s wide eyes met his father’s identical shocked expression. Tears were glistening in Ned’s eyes. Neither could figure out what to say.

Bran had gone into shock, and completely frozen up. He refused to believe this was happening.

Robb stubbornly fought against the lump in his throat as he forced out the last few lines.

Screaming, Bran falls down. There is nothing to hold onto and the courtyard rushes up to meet him. In the distance a wolf is howling, and crows circle the broken tower, searching for corn.

The loud slam as Robb closed the book cut through the sound of Sansa and Catelyn’s crying.

The family sat together in silent shock, unable to fully process what they had just read.

Chapter Text

For a long time, nobody spoke.

Catelyn remained with her arms wrapped around Bran, continuously shaking her head in disbelief. Bran was pale and shaking, staring blankly into space, still unable to fully process that prospect of a future. The rest of the Starks were wide-eyed and paralysed as the reality of the situation sunk in. If they had not received this book, Bran would be dead in just over a month.

The idea of Bran being… dead… just seemed so inconceivable. Bran was Bran! He was so full of life and energy, always smiling and laughing, and kind-hearted and gentle and good. How could he just die?

But slowly, as everyone calmed down, and really thought about what they had just read, the family was able to breathe again. This was not real. This was one possible future, yes, but they had the chance to change things. With enough information, they could stop all of this from happening.

Ned looked around at his family slowly. He cleared his throat, still very emotional from what he had just heard. “This must have been what the letter spoke of,” he said. “The person who sent this to us, he must have wanted us to prevent this.”

Catelyn sat up as she heard those words, though she kept a tight arm around her son. She slowly wiped the tears away from her cheeks with her free hand as she nodded.

Robb looked down in thought, lifting his gaze again to look at his little brother. “Bran?” he said softly. “We won’t let this happen to you, I promise.”

Bran gave a soft little smile. “I know,” he said.

Catelyn spoke up, her voice soft but steady. “Whatever happens in this version of the future, you are safe now, in this reality, and that’s what matters.”

There was a small pause. Bran took a deep breath, nodded gratefully, and carried on talking. “And we know all the information now, about the Lannisters.”

“That is what this book is for, to help us,” Ned said. “We need to know these things if we want to change the course of the future. Do we all think we’re ready to read another chapter?”

Everyone nodded hesitantly. Arya offered to read the chapter, and Robb handed her the book.

“Whose point of view is this in, Arya?” Jon asked.

Arya finally finished finding the correct page and answered: “The chapter title is Tyrion.”

“Tyrion? Tyrion Lannister?” Sansa repeated, horrified. “Why does he get a chapter? He’s a Lannister, he’s just like his siblings!” Her good opinion of the beautiful queen had been permanently ruined.

“He was kind to me a few chapters ago, though,” Jon reminded her.

“Just let me read, and we’ll figure out what he is like,” Arya said impatiently. “And we want news of Bran, right?”

Sansa nodded apologetically and fell quiet.

Somewhere a wolf is howling, the mourning sound hanging over the castle.

“My wolf,” Bran whispered. “Will he be alright?”

“Of course he will,” Ned replied. “We’ll take good care of him.”

Tyrion Lannister looks up from his books and shivers despite the warmth of the library. There is something about a wolf howling that takes a man out of the present and leaves him in a dark forest of the mind, running naked before a pack.

That line sent shivers down Jon’s spine. The picture of a man running for his life, chased by wolves in a dark forest was horrifying to think about, but at the same time strikingly poetic. Tyrion seemed to be very eloquent, he realised.

The wolf howls again, and Tyrion shuts the book he is reading and covers a yawn with his hand. His reading lamp flickers as dawn light seeps through the windows. He has been awake all night again. Tyrion doesn’t usually sleep much.

“Sorry,” Sansa said, “but when is this happening? Does this take place just after Bran… falls?”

Robb shrugged. “We have no idea, Sansa. It can’t be too long after the fall though, judging from the wolf’s howling.”

Ned smiled gently and said: “I’m sure Tyrion will tell us once Arya starts reading again.”

His legs are stiff and sore, and he limps to the table where the septon, called Chayle, is snoring. Tyrion wakes him gently, and tells him he is off to break his fast. He tells Chayle to return the books to the shelves, but to be gentle with “Engines of War” as the copy in Winterfell is the only complete copy Tyrion has ever seen.

Sansa’s eyes lit up at that. There were beautiful books in the library, all the songs and stories… her thoughts drifted off briefly. Tyrion couldn’t be too bad of a person if he cares that much about the books in the library! Though “Engines of War” sounded like a very brutal title to Sansa.

Tyrion patiently repeats his instructions to the half-asleep septon and heads outside.

He slowly makes his way down the library stairs, a difficult task due to the high steps and his own short, twisted legs.

Arya raised an eyebrow at that. She had never thought about that aspect of being a dwarf before. It must be difficult getting anywhere with twisted legs, since all houses and stairs were built for taller people. She felt a slightly increased respect for Tyrion Lannister, though she was still mistrustful. Last chapter had cemented her bad opinion of Lannisters completely.

He hears Sandor Clegane say that the boy is a long time dying

“What?” Bran immediately interrupted. “Could you repeat that, Arya? I - I actually survived the fall?”

Smiles grew on every person’s face as they processed the news. Future-Bran had survived the fall!

“You’re still alive in the future!” Catelyn exclaimed, hugging Bran tightly in excitement, tears of joy prickling her eyes. A huge grin appeared on Bran’s face as he laughed in relief.

After the brief celebration was over, Arya continued reading with a grin.

and that Clegane wishes he’d be quicker about it. Joffrey replies that at least the boy is dying quietly – his wolf is the one making the constant noise.

Bran felt a surge of affection for his unnamed wolf pup. Bran thanked him silently, grateful for the loyalty.

Clegane offers to kill the wolf for his prince, which makes Joffrey laugh. Apparently Winterfell is so full of wolves that they’d never miss one.

“Don’t you dare!” Arya shouted, interrupting herself.

Bran was furious. “How could someone even say something like that?”

Jon looked over at his siblings, equally outraged, but said: “They wouldn’t actually do it, don’t worry. It’s just their idea of a funny joke.” he added bitterly.

“Why don’t you just keep reading?” Robb suggested lightly. “We still haven’t found out what actually happened to Bran.”

By now, Tyrion has reached the bottom of the stairs and says that the Starks can count past six, unlike some princes he might name.

Robb, Jon, Arya and Bran completely failed at suppressing their laughter. Even Sansa, who was still infatuated with the idea of being married to her prince and being queen someday, thought that he deserved that comment after his horrid joke.

Joffrey at least has the grace to blush.

Catelyn shook her head in dismay. And this person was the royal prince? The heir to the iron throne? If she hadn’t known what a horrible person the Lannister woman was, she would have been shocked at the lack of proper courtesy he displayed.

Clegane pretends not to see Tyrion, making Joffrey laugh. Tyrion is used to this joke and tells Clegane to look down. The tall man looks at the ground and pretends to notice him, saying he didn’t see the little lord Tyrion stand there.

“That was so mean!” Bran said in shock. “How can someone be so rude? It’s not Tyrion’s fault he’s short!”

“I’m sure Tyrion is used to it, Bran,” Ned said wearily.

“But that doesn’t make it better, Father!” Bran replied, unsure why he was so outraged over a joke. “People still shouldn’t say those things.”

“Should I go on reading?” Arya asked after an awkward pause. She turned back to the book without waiting for a reply.

Tyrion turns to Joffrey, and tells him it is past time Joffrey offered Lord and Lady Stark his comfort.

Joffrey looks petulant, as his comfort won’t do them any good, but Tyrion says it is expected, and that Joffrey’s absence has been noted.

When Joffrey goes on to say that the Stark boy is nothing to him, and that Joffrey can’t stand the wailing of women

Sansa paled in shock. “What did he just say?” she whispered softly, her eyes wide. “He… he is a prince, and… he can’t just say these things! I thought – I thought…” she couldn’t finish her sentence, feeling as though the entire world had been ripped from under her feet.

Joffrey was a gallant, handsome prince and Sansa was going to be his queen! A prince can’t say these things about the wailing of women! None of the songs had ever mentioned this side of people. That was her brother Joffrey was talking about! How could he just say that? Were all princes like this? Were the songs and stories just lies?

Catelyn smiled sadly and gently squeezed her daughter’s hand in support, but couldn’t figure out what to say to comfort Sansa. When it was clear Sansa wouldn’t say anything else, Catelyn gave Arya a small nod to show that they could continue the chapter.

Tyrion slaps him.

Robb cheered softly in support - Joffrey definitely deserved that. Jon gave Robb a short grin of appreciation.

Tyrion warns him not to say anything else, but Joffrey shouts he will tell his mother. Tyrion slaps him again.

This time both Robb and Jon couldn’t quite contain their laughter, and even Arya started grinning. At last someone was treating Joffrey the way he deserved to be treated.

Ned was shaking his head at his children’s inappropriate behaviour, but was secretly quite amused as well.

Tyrion says Joffrey can tell his mother if he wants, but that he first must go to Lord and Lady Stark and tell them that he is at their service and all his prayers go with them in this desperate hour.

Joffrey manages a weak nod and runs across the courtyard, holding his cheek.

Arya had to take a short break to take a deep breath and maintain her composure. When she was certain she wouldn’t burst into giggles anytime soon, she continued reading aloud.

Tyrion sees a shadow come from behind, and turns around to face Clegane. Clegane’s black armour is enormous, and he wears a helm in the shape of a snarling black hound. The Hound warns Tyrion that the prince will remember that, and Tyrion replies that he prays Joffrey remembers it – but asks Clegane to remind the prince if he should forget.

Sansa shuddered at that. Her siblings might have found the situation funny, but Sansa was just horrified at everyone’s behaviour. The world of threats and veiled cruel remarks and physical violence was a completely foreign one to Sansa. She hadn’t realised people actually acted this way. Especially not the perfect, charming prince Joffrey. Honestly, Sansa still couldn’t quite believe it – but everything else in the book had been accurate so far. She would just have to wait until the royal family arrived and see for herself.

He nods to Clegane and walks away, whistling, in search of his brother who is having breakfast with the queen.

At the Guest House, Tyrion finds a cold, cheerless meal. Jaime sits with Cersei and the children, and they are talking in hushed voices.

Catelyn’s eyes narrowed. How dare they sit at her breakfast table and eat as though nothing had happened! The kingslayer physically pushed her sweet son OUT OF A WINDOW and then eats her food as though he was innocent?

Ned noticed how Catelyn’s face had darkened in anger. Pushing his own fury to the side for a moment, he held her hand in silent support.

Arya’s voice was tense and shaking slightly in hatred as she kept reading.

Tyrion sits down, uninvited and asks after Robert. His sister looks at him in distaste and says that Robert hasn’t slept, but is with Lord Eddard, and has taken their sorrow to heart.

Ned smiled gratefully, slightly relieved that his old friend hadn’t changed in all the ways that counted, at least.

Jaime smiles lazily and says that Robert has a very large heart. Jaime never takes anything seriously, a fact Tyrion knows and is able to forgive. In the terrible years of Tyrion’s childhood, Jaime was the only one to show Tyrion any affection or respect, which is why Tyrion is able to forgive Jaime almost anything.

Jon raised his eyebrows in surprise, shocked at how easily he was able to relate to Tyrion. It was difficult being the odd one out in a family, never really fitting in anywhere.

Jon was easily closest to Robb and Arya out of all his siblings, after all. Of course, he loved all his siblings equally, but like Tyrion, Jon could definitely explain his closeness with Robb and Arya using similar reasons.

Even if Jaime was quite obviously a terrible person, Jon could very easily understand how Tyrion was able to forgive Jaime everything.

Tyrion turns to the approaching servant and orders bread, fish, beer and burnt bacon. Tyrion looks back at his siblings: twins, male and female. They are both wearing a deep green to match their eyes, and their golden curls are a fashionable tumble, and they have gold ornaments on their wrists and fingers.

Sansa couldn’t help but sigh dreamily at that description. She had always longed for a deep green gown. She knew now, of course that the queen and her brother were terrible people – what exactly had they been doing in that tower, anyway? – but she was still strangely excited to finally see them in real life. They both sounded absolutely beautiful.

Tyrion wonders briefly what it would be like to have a twin, but decides he doesn’t want to know. He can’t even look at himself in a looking glass most days, let alone a twin.

Tommen asks if Tyrion has news of Bran.

Everyone immediately sat up in interest, looking at Arya expectantly, waiting impatiently for her to keep reading.

If my wolf is howling non-stop, Bran thought, it must be pretty bad. He noticed his hands were shaking slightly and he leant into his mother’s side, trying to calm himself down.

Tyrion says he stopped by the room last night and there was no change. The maester thinks that is a hopeful sign.

Catelyn let out a sigh of relief. “You’ll be alright,” she whispered to Bran. “You’ll see.”

Bran nodded almost imperceptibly. It was still difficult to process this entire situation. Of course, he was fine and safe at the moment, but to think that in an alternate reality he could have been pushed from the highest tower after overhearing a secret conversation, fallen to the ground and miraculously survived? The maester even thought there was hope for him! It was simply unbelievable.

Tommen says he doesn’t want Brandon to die. Tommen is a sweet boy, unlike his brother – but then Jaime and Tyrion aren’t so similar either.

Jaime says that Lord Eddard had a brother Brandon as well, who had been murdered by Targaryen

Ned blanched, not having expected this turn of the conversation at all. He always avoided talking about his brother if he could avoid it, and hadn’t heard anyone speak openly about him in many years – it was very disconcerting hearing his youngest daughter read this aloud so casually.

and that Brandon seems to be an unlucky name.

“But what about Bran the Builder?” Bran asked, confused. “He wasn’t unlucky!”

“I know, Bran,” Catelyn said. “Names can’t be unlucky, anyway, it’s the people carrying the names who make their own decisions.”

Tyrion’s breakfast arrives and he rips off some bread, saying that it’s not so unlucky, as the maester says the boy may live.

Ned’s eyes lit up with joy at that confirmation, and Bran and Catelyn both started smiling.

Robb and Sansa, as well as Jon and Arya exchanged excited glances, ridiculously happy that their brother in this future alternate reality had survived the fall and was most likely going to live.

Myrcella and Tommen look happy, but Jaime and Cersei exchange a quick glance that Tyrion does not miss.

Cersei says it is no mercy, and these northern gods are cruel to let a child linger in such pain.

Tyrion tells them the maester said that if the boy was likely to die he would have done so already, but it’s been four days with no change.

“Four days?” Arya shouted, shocked. “Bran hasn’t woken up yet after four days?”

“Apparently,” Sansa replied softly. “But you heard what the Lannisters said. The maester is taking good care of him, and future Bran is getting better, not worse.”

Arya nodded reluctantly, still worried about her bother, but accepting that this was all the information she was going to get for now. With a heavy sigh, she looked back at the book.

Myrcella asks if Bran will get better. She has all of her mother’s beauty but none of Cersei’s nature, Tyrion thinks.

Tyrion replies that

Arya’s voice cracked, but she forced herself to continue.

Bran’s back is broken. The fall shattered his legs too. He is kept alive with water and honey, but if he wakes, he will never walk again.

Tears appeared in Bran’s wide eyes. “So if this had happened, I would never be able to climb again?” he asked softly, voice shaking.

Ned suddenly remembers in this moment how young his son actually is. Only seven years old, and already shouldering such huge burdens in his life. Ned nodded slowly, confirming Bran’s worst fear, though it broke his heart to do it. “Yes, if we hadn’t been given the chance to stop this, then no, you would never be able to climb or walk or run again.”

Bran swallowed, breathing deeply. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like – living as a cripple, not being able to walk, not being able to climb! He was suddenly unbelievably grateful he would never be forced to experience what the Bran in the book was going through.

Tyrion goes on to say that he thinks it is the wolf keeping the boy alive. The creature is howling every day and night. It returns even they chase it away. The maester told Tyrion that when they shut the window for some quiet, Bran seemed to weaken, and when they opened it again, his heartbeat was stronger.

Bran smiled at that thought, feeling a new wave of love and appreciation for his wolf. His wolf pup was already unbelievably important to him and they were almost inseparable, and he knew all his siblings felt the same way.

“Maybe you were right, Jon,” Bran said softly. “Maybe we were meant to have those pups.”

Jon smiled back, understanding exactly what Bran was saying.

The queen shudders and says the wolves are unnatural and dangerous, and none of them are coming south with the family.

“What?” Arya interrupted herself again. “That’s stupid! They can’t just decide that, can they? Nymeria is coming with us, or I’m not going either!”

Sansa nodded in agreement. “Please, Father, they have to come to King’s Landing with us!”

“Calm down, girls,” Ned said sternly. “None of this has actually happened yet, or is even likely to happen, and either way they won’t be able to forbid you from taking Nymeria and Lady south. I’m going to give you permission, remember?”

Sansa smiled gratefully at her father while Arya kept reading, satisfied with that response.

Jaime says they follow those girls everywhere, so it’d be difficult to stop them.

“Exactly,” Arya said firmly.

Tyrion continues eating, and asks if his siblings are leaving soon.

Cersei frowns and says surely Tyrion is not planning on staying here?

Tyrion shrugs. He says Benjen Stark is taking his brother’s bastard to the Night’s Watch and Tyrion has always wanted to see the wall.

Jon groaned internally at the prospect of another companion going north with him. Yes, from what he had seen so far, Tyrion did seem intelligent and like a good person, but Jon could see how Tyrion’s sarcastic jokes could get tiring very quickly.

Jaime smiles and says he hopes Tyrion won’t take the black, which makes Tyrion laugh. Tyrion replies that the

Arya paused and looked hesitantly over at her mother before bravely continuing the sentence.

The whores would go begging from Dorne to Casterly Rock if Tyrion went celibate.

Sansa’s eyes widened in shock at that word coming from Arya’s mouth. Catelyn raised an eyebrow at her daughter but said nothing.

Arya looked uncharacteristically apologetic and said: “I’m sorry, just one more sentence and then the topic is changed.”

She quickly sped through the next sentence.

No, he just wants to stand on the Wall and piss off the edge of the world.

Arya let out a sigh of relief that this part was over, but smiled seeing Jon and Robb’s amusement at the situation. It was kind of funny, she supposed. Arya didn’t dare smile, though, since her lady mother was still scrutinising her, and quickly carried on reading.

Cersei stands and says her children don’t need to hear his filth. She leaves quickly, Tommen and Myrcella following behind.

Jaime looks at Tyrion thoughtfully and says that Stark will never consent to leave Winterfell if his son is near death.

Ned lifted his chin proudly. “Exactly.”

“Even if Robert commands it?” Catelyn asked, concerned for her family’s future in the book.

Ned hesitated at that, but said softly: “I’m sure I will make the right decision in the book. I need to stay with my son.”

Tyrion replies that Stark will if Robert commands it. Lord Eddard can do nothing for the boy anyway.

Jaime says Stark could end the boy’s pain.

“What?” Ned whispered hoarsely as his family shared appalled looks. Looking absolutely horrified, Arya gathered her courage to force the next words out.

It’s what Jaime would do in Stark’s position and it’s a mercy. Tyrion advises against suggesting this to Lord Eddard as he would not appreciate the advice.
Jaime says the boy would be a cripple if he wakes.

Bran was listening to this conversation in shock. He hadn’t even realised this was option people would seriously discuss in cases like his in the book. He didn’t know what to think. He couldn’t imagine being a cripple. He had been so excited to learn he was alive, but… he tried to imagine waking up in that reality. Weeks after the fall, scarily thin, still close to death, and then being told he was unable to walk. He would never be able to climb again. Never climbing again. Bran still had trouble even imagining that concept. With a jolt of horror, he realised he could empathise with people who preferred a clean death over life as a cripple.

Looking at the horrified faces surrounding him, all shocked by the scenario Jaime was proposing, Bran quickly cleared his head of such thoughts. He was alive and healthy now, and that was the important part, Bran reminded himself. He quickly resolved never to think of the situation again.

Worse than a cripple, a grotesque.

Bran flinched at the word.

Jaime would prefer a clean death.

Speaking for the grotesques, Tyrion says he has a different opinion. Death is so final, while life is full of possibilities.

Sansa shook her head, not believing what they were saying. How could someone, even if they were the Kingslayer, think something like that?

Jaime smiles and calls Tyrion a perverse little imp, to which Tyrion agrees. Tyrion adds that he hopes Bran does wake, as it would be interesting to hear what he has to say.

Arya’s eyes flashed in anger at this reminder. She was glad Tyrion was threatening Jaime. This was the least he deserved after what he did.

Jaime’s smile curdles, and he says darkly that there are times when he wonders what side Tyrion is on.

Tyrion swallows his last bite of breakfast and grins wolfishly. He says to Jaime that Jaime knows how much Tyrion loves his family.

Arya looked up with a forced cheerful smile. “This chapter is over!” she announced.

Everyone smiled in response, strangely relieved.

“You know,” Arya said, “I actually quite liked Tyrion in this chapter. His thoughts were really interesting to read!”

Robb nodded in agreement. “He seemed really smart, and much nicer than I thought he would be. I’m actually looking forward to learning more about him. He might be the only nice Lannister in existence!”

Everyone laughed slightly in response.

“So,” Ned said, looking around. “Who would like to read the next chapter?”

Chapter Text

Catelyn smiled and held out her hand for the book. “I can read the next chapter,” she said softly. Catelyn was honestly still quite overwhelmed from the prospect of Bran’s fall, and desperately needed something to take her mind off it. She couldn’t even imagine her reaction if something like this actually happened. If she was still so shaken now with everyone safe, the book version of herself must be out of her mind.

Firmly pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind, however, Catelyn opened the book to the correct page, raising an eyebrow as she read the chapter title “Jon.”

Robb and Jon exchanged nervous smiles.

Curious as to what would happen now, Catelyn took a steadying breath and bravely began reading.

Jon tries not to think that this might be the last time ever as he slowly climbs the steps.

Arya looked at Jon with wide, serious eyes. “This is the day you’re leaving?” she demanded.

Jon gave her a sad smile. “I guess so,” he said. He shook his head slightly in disbelief. He couldn’t even imagine never setting foot in Winterfell again.

Ghost walks silently beside him. Snow swirls outside, and the yard is full of noise, but inside the keep it is quiet. Too quiet.

He reaches the landing and stands for a long time, afraid.

“What are you afraid of, Jon?” Bran asked.

Jon just shook his head. He did have an idea, but it might be incorrect – and even if it was right, he definitely didn’t want to talk about it. Jon was strangely nervous of what Lady Stark would read next. They really didn’t need any more unnecessary tensions in the room.

Ghost nuzzles his hand, giving Jon courage to enter the room.

Catelyn paused briefly. Her eyes had skimmed over the page already, so she knew what was coming. She needed a few seconds to gather her courage.

The pause made everyone else strangely nervous. What was inside that room? Why was Jon so scared of entering it? Jon, Ned and Robb had already guessed that Jon was on his way to say good-bye to Bran. Arya, Bran and Sansa were still confused, however.

Lady Stark is beside the bed.

“Oh,” Sansa breathed. “Bran.”

Arya looked at her sister and nodded in realisation.

Bran looked around at his family’s faces uncertainly. Hadn’t they already discovered last chapter that future-Bran was alive? What was left to be nervous about?

He couldn’t finish his thoughts though, since his mother started reading again, her voice firm and decisive.

She has been there day and night for two weeks now.

Bran stared at his mother with wide eyes. Would his mother really have done that for him?

Catelyn smiled shakily and held Bran’s hand tightly, without stopping her reading.

Jon was nervous for his future self’s inevitable conversation with Lady Stark, but also couldn’t help but be worried about Bran. He hadn’t woken up once in two weeks? Would he ever wake up? How long can one be unconscious before dying of starvation?

Ned was having the same thoughts. This entire situation seemed like a nightmare. His son lying unconscious for two weeks. Robert forcing him to leave his suffering family behind for this dreaded position in King’s Landing. The legendary Others rising again north of the wall. It was still hard to believe that this would have been his world in just under two months, if their anonymous friend hadn’t sent them this book. Ned forced himself to look at his happy, healthy son next to Catelyn, to remind himself that all this was hypothetical. This hadn’t happened, and would never happen.

She hasn’t left Bran’s side for a moment. She has scarcely slept, and has been feeding Bran herself, not once leaving the room. So Jon has stayed away so far.

Jon remained silent, already uncomfortable with the situation. He knew Lady Stark didn’t enjoy reading this either. He wondered what his thoughts about Lady Stark would be, and was interested in all this despite his inhibitions.

But now there is no time left.

He stands for a moment, afraid to speak. The window is open, and a wolf is howling.

“My direwolf,” Bran whispered, not taking his eyes off the book in his mother’s hand. He wished his future self had had time to think of a name before… well, there wouldn’t be a chance to name him now either way.

Lady Stark looks over, not seeming to recognise him. Then she blinks and asks, in a flat voice, what he is doing here.

Jon tells her he’s come to say good-bye to Bran.

Arya looked between her mother and Jon. Both had unreadable, blank expressions on their faces. Arya wished they could just get along. Why did this situation always have to be so tense? Why couldn’t her mother just be nice to Arya’s brother?

Arya hoped against hope that this time, maybe, it would be different.

The last time Jon would be in Winterfell. Her mind still couldn’t quite grasp that thought, so she pushed it away for now. That moment was still in the far future for her, after all.

Her face remains emotionless, and her hair is tangled. She looks twenty years older.

Catelyn swallowed harshly. This might be the most uncomfortable chapter yet, Catelyn thought. She hated hearing about her future self’s reaction to her son’s fall. What she hated even more was that her husband’s bastard was the one telling this story in the book. That the family – Bran especially - was listening to her fall apart, and it was all told through Jon’s eyes.

Finally she tells him to leave, now that he’s said it.

Part of Jon wants to flee, but he knows that he might never see Bran again, so he steps nervously into the room and says “Please.”

Ned’s heart broke as he imagined Jon saying that. Ned had never heard Jon say that to Catelyn before. He silently begged his wife to relent - Jon needed to say good-bye to his brother. He was stronger than Ned had ever known, but he was starting to appreciate this more and more as the book went on.

She repeats her words, telling him to leave, and

Catelyn paused again. She didn’t want to read this. With a brief, almost nervous glance at her husband, she forced herself to keep going.

Lady Stark says that they don’t want him here.

Jon swallowed, blinking hard to stop tears from appearing in his eyes. He had expected this reaction, after all. He refused to cry. Bran was the one who needed attention and care right now. Jon purposefully hardened his heart and took a deep breath. Lady Stark was grieving, she wasn’t thinking straight, she never would have said those things under normal conditions.

Once this would have made him run away; it might even have made him cry.

Sansa was silently listening with wide eyes. Reading this from her half-brother’s perspective was completely different. She hadn’t realised – hadn’t even thought about all of this before. How many times had her half-brother cried because of her mother’s comments? Had Sansa herself ever made him cry with her behaviour? Why hadn’t she ever thought about this before?

It only makes him angry now. He will be part of the Night’s Watch soon and have to face worse dangers than Catelyn Tully Stark.

That thought gave Jon courage. He had never thought of the situation that way before, but it was true. If he was truly going to join the Night’s Watch soon, he would need to be braver. Lady Stark wouldn’t harm him. Why was he so concerned with what she thought of him? After all these years, she had never given any indication that she might change her mind about him. Those were a boy’s hopes, but Jon would be a man soon. He needed to grow up and try to move past this, he decided.

He tells her that Bran is his brother, and she threatens to call the guards. He defiantly tells her to call them, but that she can’t stop him from seeing Bran. He crosses the room to the other side of the bed, and looks down at Bran.

Bran looked at his mother in confusion. “Why wouldn’t you allow Jon to visit me?” he whispered. “You know I would want him to say good-bye to me, right?”

Catelyn didn’t reply but felt guilt flood into her. She really should have let Jon say good-bye. While she could understand her future self’s doubts, especially after weeks with little sleep and constant worry, she was undeniably glad that she wasn’t actively stopping him anymore.

Lady Stark is holding Bran’s hand, and

Catelyn’s voice broke at this sentence.

it looks like a claw. The flesh has gone, and the skin is stretched tight over bones. Bran’s legs are bent in ways that make Jon sick, and his eyes are open, seeing nothing.

Bran gasped in horror. He never wanted to look like that. The description just further served to remind Bran of the horrific reality of that situation, and how close he had come to death. And even if he eventually woke, he would never walk again.

Sansa felt sick at this description of her brother, but she couldn’t stop herself listening in a sort of twisted fascination. One look at Arya told her that her sister felt the same.

Everyone could tell that Catelyn was fighting tears as she was reading this aloud – but tactfully, no one commented. Everyone was too horrified to say anything about this description.

The fall made him smaller, as though a strong wind could carry Bran to his grave. But under those shattered ribs, his chest moves with every shallow breath.

Robb looked at Bran now, sitting silently beside their mother, and reminded himself of that. Bran was still breathing. Even in this terrifying future, Bran was still alive, still breathing. The thought calmed him. And nothing like this would happen in Robb’s reality, anyway. He felt a new surge of gratitude for the book’s appearance. Now that they knew – had warning – this would never happen.

Jon tells Bran he is sorry he didn’t come earlier but that he was afraid. Tears are rolling down Jon’s face, but he doesn’t care. He begs Bran not to die, and says that they are all waiting for Bran to wake up – Jon and Robb and the girls, everyone…

Sansa started softly crying again. Bran walked over to her silently, and his sister immediately hugged him. Neither of them said a word. After a while, Catelyn started reading again, with a shaky voice.

Lady Stark is silently watching, which Jon takes for acceptance. The direwolf, that Bran hadn’t had time to name, is howling.

Jon says he has to go now, as Uncle Benjen is waiting. They have to leave to go north today before the snows arrive. He remembers how excited Bran was for the journey.

Ned smiled softly in remembrance. He looked at Bran, seeing the vibrant life still in his eyes. How quickly that could have been snuffed out. Before his eyes, he saw a sudden image of his sister, lying in a bed of blood. That could have been Bran. That could have been his son. The thought wouldn’t leave his mind.

It is more than Jon can bear. He brushes away his tears and lightly kisses his brother.

Lady Stark softly says she had wanted Bran to stay with her. She is not looking at Jon. She says dully that she prayed to all the seven faces of god that Ned would leave him with her, and she adds that some prayers are answered.

That sentence was extremely difficult for Catelyn to read aloud. She didn’t want to burden her children with her guilt-ridden thoughts. The problem was that Catelyn could imagine perfectly thinking these things – she even thought a little that way now, accusing her future self. She couldn’t ever imagine voicing these thoughts to Jon of all people, however. She must really be beside herself with grief.

Jon doesn’t know what to say to that. After an awkward pause, he tells her it wasn’t her fault.

Her eyes are full of poison. She says she…

Catelyn paused again, took a deep breath, and finished the sentence in the book.

She doesn’t need a bastard’s absolution.

“Mother!” Arya was appalled. “How could you say that? Jon was being kind!”

“Don’t, Arya,” Jon murmured. “Your mother hasn’t said this yet, and she was grieving. I’m used to that word, there’s no point in getting angry over it.”

“But – but that doesn’t make it right!” Arya said, looking at Jon with big eyes.

Catelyn quickly kept on reading, eager to just finish this section before she went crazy.

Jon lowers his eyes. Jon squeezes Bran’s hand softly and says good-bye.
He is at the door when she calls his name.

Jon looked up in shock. What was happening now? He had excepted to just leave after having said good-bye. What could Lady Stark possibly have left to say to him?

He should keep going, but she has never called him by his name before. He turns around and she is looking at him as if for the first time.

Catelyn blanched as she silently read the next sentence. No matter how exhausted, terrified and beside herself she was – she couldn’t imagine ever saying those words aloud. Looking up at her family and at… Jon, she said: “Just before I read this next sentence, I’d like to apologise in advance. This is not something I would have said under normal circumstances. I’m... sorry.”

Ned frowned in concern. “What is it, my lady?”

Catelyn looked down, and bit her lip in worry. How would her family react? She couldn’t wait too long, as everyone was already staring at her in anticipation, so she decided to just read it:

She tells Jon that it should have been him.

The words hit Jon like a sack of rocks. It should have been him? Was that – was that really what she thought? Of course, Jon would have gladly sacrificed his life in return for Bran’s, just like he would for any of his family, but – somehow he knew that wasn’t what Lady Stark had meant. Jon had known that she hated him, and wished him gone from Winterfell. Jon had known that for his entire life. But to wish him crippled or dead? That was something else entirely. He was fighting hard not to cry. He didn’t even know how to process this. 

Arya was looking at her mother in betrayal. No one said that about Jon! Jon was her brother! How could her mother just say something like that?

It was Bran who broke the silence. “Why would you say that, Mother?” he whispered. The voice seemed to echo in the silent room.

“How could you?” Arya shouted. “That was cruel! We’re all horrified to hear about Bran, but – but you can’t say something like that! Jon is our family!”

Ned was looking at his wife silently. He had know she felt betrayed by Jon’s existence. He had even known she wanted Jon gone, that she resented his presence in the house. Catelyn had made her feelings perfectly clear, after all. But to know that she had been hiding hatred of this level was a new thing entirely. Ned constantly felt conflicted. He loved Catelyn. He loved Jon. The two were completely different, but he had always tried his best to be fair to everyone. In this situation, however, Ned was completely on Jon’s side. What had his lady wife even been thinking?

Catelyn looked down. She knew all of this was wrong. But the cruel thing was, even now, she could understand her future self’s thoughts perfectly. She was ashamed to say that even now, if something similar happened to any of her children, she would still be wishing that harm on Jon instead. She loved her children more than she could say. She didn’t love Jon. She couldn’t help her feelings. She was, however horrified that she would ever voice those feelings aloud. She hadn’t ever thought of herself as cruel, but maybe she was.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again. There was nothing else to say. She read the next sentence out loud in a shaking voice.

Then she turns back to Bran and starts to weep uncontrollably. It’s Jon’s first time seeing her cry.

Sansa was shaking her head in denial. This entire situation was too much for her to process. Of course she felt sorry for Jon. No one should say that to someone, ever. But this was her mother. Sansa had never seen her cry before reading this book. She never cried. And Bran had been lying unconscious in a bed for over two weeks. And… Sansa didn’t know what to think. So she didn’t say anything.

No one seemed to know what to say after that. After a long, stunned silence, Catelyn nervously cleared her throat and turned back to the book.

It is a long walk back outside. In the yard, everyone is shouting, loading wagons and saddling horses. Robb is in the middle, shouting commands.

Robb sat up in interest, extremely glad for the subject change. He was furious at his mother for even having the capacity of saying that to his brother, but he knew there wasn’t anything that could be done about the situation right now. He hoped future Robb would be able to at least cheer Jon up a little. Jon didn’t deserve any of this. But he especially didn’t need his last ever memory of Winterfell to be… whatever that conversation was.

He seems to have grown lately, almost as if Bran’s fall and his mother’s collapse made him stronger.

Jon smiled at his brother. He could very easily imagine that. Robb was one of those people who were natural leaders. Robb thrived in difficult situations. Jon was happy that amidst all this tragedy in their future, at least something good was coming out of it.

Grey Wind is next to him. Robb tells Jon that Benjen is looking for him. Jon says he’ll meet Benjen soon. He looks around and tells Robb that leaving is harder than he thought it would be. Robb says he feels the same. He asks if Jon has seen Bran. Jon nods silently, not trusting his voice. Robb says that he knows Bran’s not going to die, and Jon agrees.

Robb knows something is wrong, and he hesitantly asks about his mother.

The atmosphere in the room seemed to grow tense again as everyone mentally prepared for Jon to tell Robb about what happened. Robb and Ned were looking at the book apprehensively, scared of Robb’s reaction. They both hoped he wouldn’t cause a big scene in front of everyone.

Jon was the only one who remained calm. Unless he had changed beyond recognition in the two months to come, he knew he wouldn’t tell Robb anything. How could he? Lady Stark was his mother after all. It wasn’t as though Jon had any room for complaint, even towards Robb. And it would be unfair to put Robb in that situation. No one deserved to be in the middle of that kind of conflict.

Jon tells him that she was… very kind.

Catelyn was looking at Jon in surprise as she read this, undeniably grateful for his courtesy, but trying to figure him out. Why would he lie? Was it just because he was truly Ned’s son?

Robb jerked his head to stare at Jon in shock. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?” he asked, frowning in confusion.

Jon shrugged awkwardly in response. He couldn’t really explain. It was just one of those things Robb would never be able to understand.

Robb looks relieved and smiles. He tells Jon that the next time they see each other, Jon will be all in black, to which Jon replies that it was always his colour.

Jon laughed at that, making Robb grin.

Robb promises they will meet again soon, and embraces Jon fiercely. Jon hugs him back, and asks him to take care of Bran. They break apart and awkwardly look at each other. Robb finally asks about Benjen again, but Jon tells Robb he still has one farewell to say before he can leave.

Arya looked up hopefully, smiling at her big brother. Jon grinned and messed up her hair. He was almost certain that the last of his good-byes would indeed be to Arya. He felt the familiar twinges of sadness, but pushed the feeling away. He was here for now, and would enjoy all the time with his siblings and father that he had.

It is a short walk to the armoury. He picks up his package and walks back inside the keep.

Arya’s eyes grew wide. A package from the armoury? Did that mean… she refused to get her hopes up. But… maybe?

Arya is in her room, packing a chest that is bigger than she is. Nymeria is helping, but she sits and yelps as soon as she sees Ghost. Arya looks around and jumps up as soon as she sees Jon.

She throws her arms around his neck and says that she was afraid he was already gone, since she wasn’t allowed out to say good-bye.

“What?” Arya said, outraged. “Why? What have I done?”

Jon grinned at her, happy that their relationship hadn’t changed, at least. “Your mother will probably tell us if we let her read,” he whispered in her ear.

Jon is amused and asks her what she has done this time. Arya lets go and makes a face, saying that she hadn’t done anything, and was even already packed. She goes on to say that Septa Mordane told Arya to do it again

Arya rolled her eyes in annoyance. Septa Mordane really seemed to have a grudge against her for some reason. Why couldn’t the septa just leave her in peace? No one should care how her clothes were folded! They going to get messed up during the journey, anyway.

and that according to the septa, Arya’s things weren’t properly folded and that a lady doesn’t throw her clothes around like old rags.

Jon asks his little sister if that was what she did. She says that the clothes are going to get messed up anyway – who cares how they are folded?

Arya let out a short laugh, glad she still thought the same way she did now. Even if her mother had apparently changed beyond recognition, at least everyone else was still the same.

Jon grinned at Arya’s sassy comment, happy the mood in the room was lighter again. He would miss Arya the most when he left.

Septa Mordane, Jon says. He then tells her that he brought her something that has to be packed very carefully. Her face lights up at the prospect of a present. Jon tells her to close the door, which she does, leaving Nymeria outside to guard.

Jon shows her his gift and her dark eyes, so similar to his own, widen in surprise.

A sword, she whispers.

“You actually gave me a sword? A real sword?” Arya could barely contain her excitement. “Thank you, Jon, thank you, thank you, thank you!” She ran to him and gave him an excited hug.

Jon was grinning like an idiot as he hugged her back, the earlier scene with Lady Stark completely gone from his mind. “Careful,” he laughed, “I haven’t given it to you yet!”

“No, but you will!” Arya said, reluctantly returning to her seat. She couldn’t stop smiling. Nothing could ruin her happy mood.

Ned and Catelyn looked at each other. In theory, they both disapproved of Arya having a sword, but they remained silent for now. Everyone was finally happy again, and they didn’t want to disappoint their children so soon after the argument. Ned resolved to talk about the sword with Arya soon.

Jon tells her that this is no toy, and warns her not to cut herself.

Ned gave Jon a grateful look for explaining the dangers of a real, sharp sword. Jon returned the look with a small smile.

The edges are sharp enough to shave with. Arya replies that girls don’t shave, and Jon jokes about the septa’s legs, making Arya laugh.

She is still admiring the sword and tells him how skinny it is. Jon tells her she is skinny too, and that he had Mikken make it special. Swords like this are common in the free cities, and it won’t cut a man’s head off but can poke him full of holes if she’s fast. Arya tells him she can be fast.

Arya was still giddy with excitement. Maybe she would be able to have actual lessons? To really learn like Robb and Jon and Bran? Her mind was whirling with possibilities.

Jon tells her she’ll have to practice daily, and shows her how to hold it. First lesson, Jon says, stick them with the pointy end.

That made Ned, Jon, Robb, Arya and Bran laugh hard. The family was still relieved at the restored happiness of everyone. They desperately needed to laugh, to let out the awkward tension that had seemed a constant in this room since yesterday when the book had first been opened.

Arya whacks him on the arm with the flat of her blade, which makes Jon grin like an idiot.

Jon was grinning like an idiot now, too, so he could definitely relate to his future self. He was so grateful for his unbreakable bond with Arya. His little sister could lift him out of any sullen mood with unimaginable ease.

She tells him that she knows which end to use.

Arya is scared Septa Mordane will take it away, or that she won’t find anyone to practice with, and Jon replies that the septa can’t take the sword if she doesn’t know Arya has one, and that King’s Landing is a thousand times the size of Winterfell, so it will be easy to find a partner.

And whatever Arya does… don’t… tell… Sansa! They say together, laughing.

Sansa was listening to all of this with a genuine, small smile in her face, but at that comment, she looked down, her smile falling from her face. She was trying so hard to be happy for both of them, especially after Jon and Arya’s sadness these past few chapters. But she couldn’t help but be a little jealous of their simple, close relationship. Why did Arya get on so much better with their half-brother, instead of her actual sister? Why couldn’t Arya be more like Sansa? Sansa would have loved a sister to play dress-up with, and to sing and dance with and practice needlework with and tell stories to. Arya, on the other hand, seemed perfectly content to only spend time with her brothers, and act as if she was one of the boys. It was as though Sansa didn’t even exist in Arya’s world.

Jon messes up her hair and tells his little sister that he will miss her. Arya looks about to cry and says she wishes he were coming with her. Jon replies that sometimes different roads lead to the same castle, so who knows?

Arya smiled sadly at Jon. She hated the idea of him leaving. Even if it looked as though Father was not going to take her and Sansa south, Jon was still set on joining the Night’s Watch. So they would still have to say good-bye sooner rather than later.

Jon is feeling much better now, and he refuses to be sad. He tells her he’d better go, as he doesn’t want to make Uncle Ben angry. Arya runs to him to give him one last hug. He tells her to put the sword away first, laughing, which she does before showering him with kisses.

He goes to the door but turns around again.

Arya looked at Jon questioningly. Jon shrugged in response. He had no idea either. It must have been something important, though.

Catelyn still looked uncomfortable reading this conversation, but she could see that the chapter was almost over and continued steadily.

All the best swords have names, he says. Arya looks at her blade and asks him what its name is. Jon asks her teasingly if she can guess, as it’s her favourite thing.

Jon and Arya looked at each other, confused. They seemed to think of the answer at the same time. “Needle?” they said together, which made Arya giggle and Jon smile.

Arya is puzzled, but then she realises the answer. She is that quick. They say it together: Needle!

That made Arya laugh even harder, until Jon joined in too.

“Needle is a good name,” Robb said approvingly.

“Thank you,” Jon said, still grinning happily.

The memory of her laughter warms him on the ride north.

That thought warmed Jon’s heart. Despite the horrific start to this chapter, at least the end had been positive.

“The chapter is over,” Catelyn said, with a small relieved sigh.

Ned looked around the room. “I think we need a break,” he said finally. Everyone nodded in agreement. Everything they had read so far today, from the revelation about the Lannisters, to Bran’s fall, to the conversation between Jon and Catelyn, had been very emotionally exhausting.

“Should we reconvene in one hour?” Ned asked.

“Yes, that is a good idea,” said Robb. They definitely needed a break.

One after the other, the Stark family got up from their seats and left the room, all deep in their own thoughts.

Chapter Text

As the family walked back into the study after a well-deserved break, Robb pulled Jon aside. “Jon,” he said. “You know you can tell me if my mother treats you badly, right? I’m sorry I never paid more attention… I had no idea you felt that strongly about her.”

Jon looked down hesitantly. “I just don’t want to put you into an awkward position,” he replied haltingly. “I know how much you love her. I never want to make you feel like you have to choose or something – I can deal with it, it’s just the way it is.” He hated the way these books were forcing him to talk openly about this topic.

“You’re not making me choose, Jon,” Robb said impatiently. “Mother shouldn’t talk to you the way we just read! It’s not your fault you exist! If she’s been saying these things to you –“

“She hasn’t,” Jon interrupted quickly. “You heard her, she feels awful about what she will say too. Lady Stark and I usually just avoid each other – I thought you knew that? I think the scene in the book was the longest conversation we had ever had!” He added a soft laugh for good measure, in an attempt to calm Robb down.

Arya walked past them but stopped curiously. “Are you talking about Mother?” she asked.

They both nodded.

“I’m still furious at her,” Arya said, scowling. “I just can’t believe she would say that!”

“Not you too,” Jon said. “I thought we went over this. She even apologised, Arya!”

“She wished you were almost dead, Jon!” Arya’s eyes were wide, and to his dismay, Jon saw tears gathering in her eyes. “That’s a really serious thing to say to anyone. Especially after Bran! I don’t care that she apologised. I hate the way she always treats you! It’s just – it’s mean!” She stopped to take a breath.

Jon put his hands on her shoulders to calm her. “Arya, listen to me. I’m sorry I never told either of you explicitly how Lady Stark and I feel about each other. I just never thought it was worth discussing. I mean, it’s only to be expected that she doesn’t like me, you know? And it’s alright. She apologised when she read that, and… it’s not like she ever said that to me in real life. It’s just that stupid book.” He gave her a half-smile. “Please, just try to look past it? We still have most of the book to get through, and I’d rather not fight the entire time.”

Arya took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright,” she said begrudgingly. “But I still don’t like it.”

Jon and Robb chuckled at her display of temper, and Jon was glad an argument could be avoided for now.

When they entered the room together, they saw that the rest of the family was already gathered. Thankfully, Jon noted that it seemed like they hadn’t overheard their conversation. He was so grateful for both Robb and Arya’s indignation on his behalf. But.. Lady Stark was still the lady of Winterfell. And he was just a bastard, who could be thrown out of Winterfell at a moment’s notice. Robb and Arya could scream at their mother all they wanted with no thought to consequences except perhaps extra lessons, or confinement to their rooms for a day.

Jon envied them that freedom. If he ever fought back, he would face far worse consequences. He just couldn’t afford to start a fight because of one sentence that Lady Stark may have said to him under stressful circumstances at some point in the future.

As soon as everyone was settled in their seats, Ned looked around at his family. “Should we get back to the book?” he asked. “Who would like to read the next chapter? We should read at least four more chapters today, I think, to finish this as soon as we can.”

“I can read,” Sansa offered, and Ned handed her the book. She quickly found the correct page and smiled, saying: “It’s another chapter about Daenerys!” She had half been expecting more Jon drama, so was relieved to hopefully get a relatively uneventful chapter.

“I wonder how she is doing,” Bran said. “I liked her last chapter. I hope she is happy with Khal Drogo.”

Catelyn smiled uncertainly – the Dothraki Khal seemed very brutal and violent to her – but she said softly: “I’m sure she will be, Bran.”

Daenerys Targaryen weds Khal Drogo with fear and splendour in a field outside Pentos, as the Dothraki believe that everything important must be done beneath the sky.

Sansa frowned at the first line. She could understand that Daenerys was afraid, of course. She would be frightened too, if she were forced to marry a barbarian from Essos. But Sansa hoped Daenerys would be braver than Sansa would have been. She was two years older, after all. Sansa suddenly found herself grateful that she would be betrothed to the prince – a noble gentleman who would treat her like a lady ought to be treated – and not a Dothraki horse-lord. She felt a strange pity for Daenerys.

All forty thousand members of the khalasar have arrived to be in attendance, as well as countless women, children and slaves.

Ned shook his head in disappointment. That the word slave should be thrown around so casually… slavery may have been long outlawed in Westeros, but that didn’t mean Ned approved of it still being so very prevalent in Essos, especially so near to Pentos, one of the so-called “free” cities.

They camp outside the city walls, making the inhabitants of Pentos more nervous with every day that passes. One day, Illyrio tells them during dinner that his fellow magisters have doubled the city guard. Ser Jorah jokes that Princess Daenerys should get wed quickly, before they hand over half the city’s money away to sellswords.

No one laughed at that joke. Robb and Jon threw each other a disgusted look, feeling sorry for Daenerys, who was so evidently terrified.

Illyrio laughs lightly, but Viserys does not smile.

Viserys says that he can have her tomorrow if he wants, as long as he pays the price.

Bran looked at his parents in confusion. “What price?” he asked softly. “Is he selling her to Khal Drogo?”

“You know Viserys wants the Iron Throne,” Ned answered. “I believe he needs Khal Drogo’s army to help him invade Westeros.”

“Oh, I remember now,” Bran nodded, slightly embarrassed. “That was the arrangement from the last chapter, right?”

Sansa smiled and nodded. “I’ll continue reading if no one else has questions?” she asked, and turned back to the chapter.

Illyrio reassures Viserys that the price will be paid in time. Viserys shall have a crown after the Khal has presented his wife to the dosh khaleen at Vaes Dothrak. Then, if the omens favour war, perhaps Viserys will get what he wants.

Sansa turned to her father with wide eyes. “Do you think he will succeed?” she asked. “I don’t want them to invade Westeros. I thought the Rebellion was long over.”

Ned smiled encouragingly. “I doubt he will actually invade, Sansa. You don’t need to worry. The Khal seemed quite reluctant to turn westwards – I’m sure this is only arrogant talk.”

Viserys is angry that he must wait that long, but Illyrio shrugs and asks what few more months mean when Viserys has already waited most of his life.

Arya laughed softly. She was glad this Viserys was being talked back to for once – Arya absolutely hated him.

Ser Jorah nods and asks Viserys to be patient as the Dothraki do things in their own time. A lesser man can ask the khal for a favour but must never berate him. This makes Viserys angrier, and he tells Ser Jorah that he is not a lesser man, but the rightful Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. The dragon never begs.

“He is no dragon,” Bran whispered. Bran had heard tales of Targaryen knights and kings and princes his whole life, and none of them had been anything like Viserys. No one should treat their sister like that. Robert Baratheon was the king, and Bran hoped Viserys would never get a chance to rule Westeros. 

Dany listens to this conversation silently. She stares at her brother and thinks that there are no more dragons, but she does not dare say it aloud.

That night she dreams of a dragon. Viserys is hitting her and she is naked, shaking in fear.

Sansa faltered slightly while reading this paragraph, but caught herself. It was just a dream described in a book, she reminded herself sternly. There was no need to get upset over something that wasn’t even real.

She tries to escape, but her body seems thick and clumsy.

Catelyn frowned. “Is she dreaming of a future pregnancy?” she asked softly. No one paid Catelyn any mind, though, since they were so focused on Sansa’s voice.

He strikes her again and she falls to the ground. As he kicks her, he screams again and again that she woke the dragon. Her thighs are wet with blood. She closes her eyes in fear and hears a ripping sound and the crackling of a big fire. She looks again to find Viserys gone and fire all around her. In the middle of all this is a great dragon. It turns around and looks her in the eyes.

She wakes, shaking.

Ned and Catelyn turned to look each other, confusion in both their faces. “What do you think it means, my lord?” Catelyn asked Ned. He shook his head in reply, failing to come up with a sufficient reply.

“Old Nan says that some dreams come true,” Bran said. “Will this one come true?”

“Don’t be stupid, Bran,” Arya said. She was still a bit shaken by the vivid description. “The dragons have been gone for centuries. How could any of this be true? It doesn’t even make sense.”

“Arya, don’t call your brother stupid,” Catelyn immediately interjected. Arya opened her mouth to argue, but stopped herself with a quick glance at Jon, who was shaking his head almost imperceptibly. Arya turned to Bran instead. “Sorry, Bran.”

He smiled softly in reply, and then asked: “Sansa, can you keep reading, please?”

She has never been this afraid… until her wedding day.

The ceremony lasts from dawn to dusk. Dany is seated next to her khal, raised above the sea of Dothraki. She has never seen so many people in one place and they are all frightening. Men and women are wearing leather vests over bare chests and horsehair leggings. They eat horseflesh with honey and peppers, get drunk on fermented mare’s milk and Illyrio’s wines, and shout at each other across the fires.

Sansa’s eyes were wide reading this entire paragraph. Of course she had heard stories of the Dothraki, but never in this amount of detail. They sounded terrifying and uncivilised and barbaric. She couldn’t even imagine being in Dany’s position, forced to marry one of… those people.

The language sounds harsh and foreign to Dany.

Viserys is just below her, wearing a black wool tunic decorated with a red dragon. Jorah and Illyrio sit next to him, all in places of high honour. But Dany can see Viserys’ anger – he does not like sitting beneath her, and only being offered food after Dany and the khal have refused it.

Jon couldn’t help but draw an uncomfortable parallel to himself. He knew he was nothing like Viserys, of course, but… Jon always felt hurt and angry during feasts at Winterfell where he wasn’t allowed to sit at the head table. It was a huge honour to even be invited to sit in the Great Hall during feasts, and Jon was complaining because he couldn’t join his siblings and father in the highest position. Was he like Viserys after all? Jealous and angry? Jon prayed he wasn’t.

Dany has never felt so alone. She remembers her brother telling her to smile, so she smiles until her face aches.

Catelyn’s heart hurt for this sad, lonely girl. The Targaryens were enemies, yes, but Dany hadn’t done anything wrong. Catelyn could tell how much Dany tried to please her brother and Khal Drogo, and Catelyn couldn’t help but feel that whatever Dany did, it would never be enough.

Catelyn looked over at Ned with a smile, grateful to have been so lucky as to find such a kind, considerate husband. How easily she could have ended up in a situation similar to Dany’s!

Tears appear in her eyes that she tries her best to hide, scared of Viserys and Drogo’s reactions if she openly cried. She can’t eat out of fear and so she refuses all the offered food. There is no one to talk to. Khal Drogo barely looks at her as he jokes with his bloodriders. They have no common language. She would even like to talk to Illyrio and Viserys but they are too far away.

She sits in her beautiful gown, sipping her wine, too scared to eat and unable to speak.

“That’s awful,” Arya whispered. Looking around the room, she could see that everyone had the same amount of pity for Dany in their eyes. No one could figure out quite what to say.

Robb hoped she would find some courage to make it through this day. But even if she did… what about the day after that? What about all the days still left to come? She would stay married to Khal Drogo for her entire life. Robb didn’t know why he cared so much… her family was a threat, an enemy, after all. But finding out about her life from her perspective – it was very different than hearing his father’s stories.

She tells herself silently that she is the blood of the dragon, Daenerys Stormborn, of the blood of Aegon the Conqueror. 

Sansa smiled softly as she read this. She wasn’t sure she could have found the same strength in a similar situation, but was undeniably glad that Dany had the ability to. Sansa was worried about Daenerys’ fate that night though. She knew little of what happened after a wedding, but all the stories she had heard so far had sounded brutal and painful to her.

It is still before noon when she sees her first man die.

“What?” Bran said. Everyone sat up at this unexpected change of pace, and looked over at Sansa, impatient for her to let them know what happened.

Women are dancing for the khal and the bored khal throws a bronze coin down every now and then. The warriors are watching the women too, and one of them

Sansa stopped, her eyes wide in shock. She tried to continue reading, but the words were stuck in her throat. She silently cursed her red hair and pale complexion as her face grew hot in embarrassment. She really didn’t want to read the next part.

Robb noticed her dilemma. He held his hand out, saying: “Sansa, would you like me to take over for a little bit?”

Sansa nodded gratefully, passing the book over to his outstretched hand.

With a cautious glance at his mother, Robb began reading.

One of the warriors steps forward to grab a dancer by the arm, pushing her to the ground and mounting her right there, as a stallion mounts a mare. Illyrio has already warned her of this, saying that Dothraki mate like animals - they have no privacy in a khalasar, no sense of sin or shame as the people in Westeros do.

Catelyn looked straight ahead, her gaze steely. She was learning a lot about Dothraki culture in a very short amount of time, and her opinion if those horse savages was not improving. She prayed that this crude paragraph would be over soon. The wedding had been sad, of course, but a good deal better than whatever was being described right now.

Dany looks away as soon as she realises what is happening

Sansa, Arya and Bran breathed a sigh of relief that this would be over soon.

but two more warriors step forward and there is nowhere for her to look away.

When two men grab the same woman, they start fighting, pulling out arakhs, which are sharp blades, half sword and half scythe. No one interferes, and suddenly, one of the men gets misses a step and is killed. As the loser dies, the winner seizes the nearest woman – not the one they had been fighting over – and has her right there and then. Slaves carry off the body and everyone gets back to dancing and drinking.

Robb quickly handed the book back to Sansa. “I think you can read the rest, now,” he said.

That had been a mortifying experience for Robb, too, but he suspected it would have been worse if Sansa had read that paragraph herself.

“Thank you,” Sansa whispered. Her eyes quickly found the correct spot where Robb had left off, and she resumed reading, eager to finish this chapter.

Dany remembers Illyrio telling her that a Dothraki wedding without at least three deaths is thought of as boring. All in all, twelve men died at Dany’s wedding.

Ned shook his head in disapproval at this needless bloodshed, but remained silent, not wanting to delay this chapter any longer than necessary.

The terror grows in Dany as the hours pass, and she tries to stop herself screaming. She is afraid of the Dothraki, afraid of her brother, and most of all she is afraid of what will happen tonight under the stars, when her brother gives her to the giant sitting beside her.

Arya was finding this tension really hard to bear. Why couldn’t it – the consummation or whatever it was – just be over already? Why did the chapter have to drag out this situation for so long? It was very uncharacteristic of Arya to be so worried about someone she didn’t even know. A quick glance at Jon told her he felt the same, a similar worry in his eyes.

There was nothing to be done, Arya knew. Girls marry the men that their parents and brothers tell them to marry. There was no choice involved – that’s just the way it has been forever. It didn’t mean that Arya couldn’t hate the entire concept anyway. Why couldn’t girls choose who they wanted to marry, or if they even married at all? It was stupid!

She tells herself again that she is the blood of the dragon.

When the sun has almost set, Khal Drogo stands up and claps his hands. The music stops. Drogo pulls Dany to her feet, as it is time for her bride gifts.

Catelyn raised her eyebrows in surprise. They had bride gifts? She had always assumed wedding gifts to be an exclusively Westerosi custom, so it was strange to hear about it in the middle of Essos among the Dothraki.

Dany knows that after the bride gifts it will be time for the consummation of her marriage. She tries to stop thinking of that but can’t. She hugs herself to keep from shaking.

Sansa’s voice started shaking too, but thankfully she managed to keep it steady before anyone noticed.

Viserys gifts Dany three handmaids. Irri and Jhiqui are copper-skinned Dothraki with black hair, and Doreah is a blonde, blue-eyes Lysene girl. Viserys whispers in Dany’s ear, explaining that Irri will teach her riding, Jhiqui the Dothraki language, and Doreah will teach her the womanly arts of love.

Bran frowned. “Are they her slaves, do you think?” he asked his mother.

“I believe they are servants,” Catelyn replied. “The Dothraki do have slaves, but Viserys is from Westeros and seems to keep with Westerosi customs, so I don’t think he would buy his sister slaves for her wedding.”

Bran nodded, smiling in relief.

Ser Jorah apologises for his gift as he gives her a small stack of books. They are histories and songs of the Seven Kingdoms, written in the Common Tongue. She thanks him with all her heart.

Jon smiled at the thoughtfulness of that gift. He knew Daenerys wouldn’t know much about her people’s histories and legends, apart from what her brother might have told her, so she must be yearning for an accurate depiction of Westerosi history. Jon knew he would have, had he been brought up far away from his home.

Illyrio gives her a huge cedar chest. Inside, there are the finest velvets and damasks of the Free Cities, and resting on top are three huge eggs.

Arya frowned in confusion. “You mean, like ostrich eggs? Or... large chicken eggs?”

Sansa, who had already skimmed ahead a bit, said: “No. I think they are dragon’s eggs!”

The family looked at each other in amazement and disbelief, but Sansa paid them no mind, her eyes focused on the book. “Listen to this,” she added as she quickly kept reading.

Dany gasps at their beauty. All three are different, patterned in rich colours and so large she needs both hands to pick one up. The eggs are heavy as if made of stone. The tiny scales on the shells glimmer in the setting sun. One egg is deep green, with bronze flecks, another is pale cream streaked with gold, and the third is midnight black, with red ripples and swirls.

“They sound absolutely beautiful,” Jon breathed, picturing them in his mind’s eye. He had always longed to meet a dragon someday.

Bran nodded in agreement, his mind reeling from that description. “But the dragons have been gone for centuries,” Bran said. “How can this be?”

“I think Illyrio will explain,” Sansa told him, her eyes still on the book. The entire chapter had been worth it just for this description, Sansa thought, still in awe that actual dragon eggs existed in the world.

Illyrio explains that they are dragon’s eggs, from beyond Asshai. He tells her that the ages have turned them to stone, but they haven’t lost they beauty. She tells him that she will always treasure them.

Jon’s eyes were still shining in wonder – though he was oddly disappointed that they wouldn’t ever hatch. It would have been fascinating to read about actual dragons, even if he could never meet them – but on second thought, maybe it was a good thing they wouldn’t hatch. Jon didn’t even want to imagine Viserys trying to conquer the Seven Kingdoms with three actual fire-breathing dragons.

The khal’s bloodriders give her the traditional gifts of a leather whip, a magnificent arakh and a dragonbone bow.

Arya sat up in excitement. Did the Dothraki allow women to fight? Was Daenerys going to receive fighting lessons? She couldn’t wait to hear about those!

She recites the traditional response that Ser Jorah has taught her, telling the bloodriders that this is a gift worthy of a great warrior, and she is only a women. Let her lord husband bear these in her stead. So Khal Drogo receives those “bride gifts.”

Arya sank back into her chair in disappointment. She should have guessed that they would only be symbolic.

Ned threw her a slightly amused glance, having guessed correctly where her mind had gone.

Other gifts include slippers, jewels, rings, painted vests and furs, needles, feathers, and a gown made from the skin of a thousand mice.

Sansa shuddered at that thought, and quickly continued reading to take her mind off it.

Lastly, Khal Drogo brings her his gift. It is a horse, a young spirited filly. There is something breathtaking about her, and she is grey, with a mane like smoke.

Arya and Bran exchanged an excited glance. Surely this gift wouldn’t be symbolic too, Arya thought hopefully.

Robb and Jon were sitting up in anticipation as well. Could Daenerys ride? Was she any good? They couldn’t wait to find out. Finally there was a part of this chapter that was interesting and exciting in a positive way!

Illyrio translates Khal Drogo’s comment: Silver for the silver of Daenerys’ hair.

Sansa smiled softly. That was romantic, she thought. Maybe there was hope for the Khal to be a good husband after all?

Daenerys murmurs that the horse is beautiful. Drogo puts his hands on her waist and easily lifts her up onto the saddle, where she sits uncertainly for a moment. Ser Jorah tells her to take the reins and ride – she doesn’t need to go far.

Dany is nervous as she is only a fair rider, and hasn’t had a lot of practice. She prays she won’t fall off as she gives the filly the lightest touch with her knees.

Jon closed his eyes, praying that she would do well and not embarrass herself. He was surprised at how invested he was in the fate of this girl – this stranger he had never even met before – but he couldn’t help feeling a sort of kinship with her. Dany felt out of place and treated badly by people who were meant to be her family, like him. She had no real power in life, or control over her fate, like him. Only Jon was joining the Night’s Watch and Dany was being married off to a Dothraki.

Whatever the reason, he genuinely hoped she would at least enjoy this ride on her new horse, even if the rest of her life was doomed to be miserable, judging by what they had read so far.

And for the first time, perhaps ever, she forgets to be afraid.

Catelyn smiled. She was happy for Dany that she had managed to find courage in this situation. Of course girls must fulfil their duties in society, but she was glad that Dany had been able to find some joy in this all too common fate.

The filly moves in a smooth and silken way, and the crowd parts for them. Every eye is on her. Dany is riding much faster than planned, but it is exhilarating and not terrifying. She smiles as the horse moves into a trot, and sends it into a gallop.

The whole family was smiling at this description. They all loved riding whole-heartedly, except perhaps Catelyn and Sansa, and this sounded wonderful. Dany seemed to really need the feeling of freedom and exhilaration of riding, and it was great seeing her confidence grow.

The Dothraki are laughing and shouting as they jump out of her way. Daenerys turns to ride back, but there is a fire pit blocking her path. She is filled with a daring unknown to her, and gives the horse her head. The horse flies over the flames as though she had wings.

Arya was openly grinning, and Bran turned to his father. “May we go out riding tomorrow if the weather is fine?” he asked.

Ned’s eyes were soft as he replied: “Yes, Bran, that sounds nice.” The gods knew they all needed some time away away from this book every now and then. It was exhausting for all of them, he knew.

As Dany pulls to a stop, she asks Magister Illyrio to tell Khal Drogo he has given her the wind. As Drogo hears the translation, Dany sees her husband smile for the first time.

That sentence hit Catelyn harder than expected. She remembered when she first met Ned, and how icy his eyes had seemed. She had gone months without ever seeing him smile – not until he had returned home from the war and she had presented him with Robb. His whole face had seemed to melt then. His eyes had lit up, and Catelyn had caught a glimpse of the man underneath the cold exterior for the first time. Catelyn had thought then that she might be happy in this marriage – until, of course, Jon had been brought forward.

It was a good omen for Dany that Khal Drogo had smiled on the day of their wedding.

Knowing now how happy she was with Ned and her children, she was starting to believe that the same was possible for Daenerys Targaryen as well. Catelyn hoped so, at least. The child deserved some happiness after those miserable years under the influence of her atrocious brother.

The sun vanishes behind the walls of Pentos, and Dany realises she had lost track of time.

Sansa tensed. What would happen now, exactly? It seemed unconceivable to her that Dany was only two years older and already knew so much more about the world. She bravely kept reading, though she grew more nervous with ever sentence.

The tension was quickly returning to the room as everyone was waiting for the inevitable.

The khal is saddling his own horse. Viserys digs his fingers into her leg and whispers that she must please him, or she will see the dragon wake like never before.

“Git,” Robb muttered under his breath. Honestly, what kind of brother spoke to his sister like that?

Jon was the only one who had heard the insult and he had to admit he felt exactly the same. With every mention of Viserys, Jon’s hatred of him grew and grew. Who could judge Dany for being so afraid when she had been forced to grow up with person as her only constant guardian?

The fear returns as she hears her brother’s words. She feels like a child, thirteen and alone, not ready for what is about to happen.

They ride out together, leaving the khalasar behind. As she follows the silent Khal Drogo at a trot, she whispers again that she is the blood of the dragon, she is the blood of the dragon, she is the blood of the dragon. The dragon is never afraid.

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. No one dared to break the silence. Poor Daenerys for having to live through this in only two months’ time, Sansa thought. She could imagine no worse fate than being forcibly married to a Dothraki, even if the person in question was a brave leader who complimented her and knew how to smile, though he did so rarely.

It is completely dark when they finally stop beside a small stream. Drogo dismounts and lifts her from her horse. She feels as fragile as glass in his hands. She is trembling as he secures the horses and when he turns around to face her, she starts to cry.

Catelyn threw a worried glance Bran’s way. He was only seven, after all. Did he really need to hear this? Her son did seem fine for now, but Catelyn could only imagine what would happen next. She looked at her husband pleadingly.

He understood her plea immediately, but only said: “Everyone should hear every part of this book, my lady. That’s how I interpreted the note – every part of this book could contain vital information for our future.”

Catelyn sighed in resignation and turned back to an uncomfortable-looking Sansa.

Khal Drogo blankly stares at her tears. He says “No,” and rubs her tears away with his thumb.

“He knows the Common Tongue?” Arya asked the room at large.

Jon raised his eyebrows. “Apparently so,” he said.

Dany asks him if he speaks the Common Tongue, but he says no again. She thinks that he might only know that word

“Oh, alright,” Arya interrupted – quite rudely, in Sansa’s opinion. “That makes more sense.”

but it makes her feel a bit better. Drogo touches her lightly, speaking softly in Dothraki. There is warmth in the tone, though Dany doesn’t understand the meaning, and it is a tenderness she hadn’t expected from him.

He gently forces her to look him in the eyes. He lifts her up, sitting her down beside the stream. He sits next to her and says no again. She asks him if that is the only word he knows, but he does not reply. He pulls his long braid over his shoulder and slowly removes the bells. Dany leans forward to help, and when they are done, Drogo gestures. He wants her to undo his braid, which she does slowly and carefully.

Sansa was still extremely uncomfortable reading this, and to her horror, she was starting to blush at this startling display of intimacy. She refused to ask Robb for help a second time in one chapter, though, and forced herself to power through. There were only a few paragraphs left, after all.

It takes her a long time, and he is silently watching her. When she has finished, he shakes his head, and his hair spreads out behind him, oiled and gleaming. She has never seen such thick, black hair before.

Everyone in the room was feeling awkward and uncomfortable by this point. It seemed weird to read about such a private moment between two strangers – intrusive and voyeuristic, almost. No one seemed willing to interrupt Sansa and just skip this part, though, so Sansa just kept reading, her slightly wavering voice echoing in the otherwise silent room.

Now it is his turn, and he starts to undress her. His fingers are tender and Dany sits there, unmoving, as he removes her silks. When she lifts her hands to cover herself, Drogo says no again and pulls her hands away gently but firmly, before pulling her to her feet. She shivers, afraid of what would happen next, but he does not do anything. Drogo sits, just looking at her, for a long time. Then he starts to touch her.

She feels the fierce strength in his hands, but he does not hurt her. He examines every part of her body, touching every finger, running a hand down her leg, combing her hair with his fingers, massaging her shoulders. It seems as though hours had passed before he starts stroking her breasts. Her nipples begin to ache and he stops touching her.

Robb and Jon looked at each other awkwardly. Did this scene really have to be described in so much detail? Surely that was unnecessary!

He pulls her down again, and asks no?

She takes his hand and moves it between her thighs, whispering yes.

Sansa closed the book with a loud sigh of relief, effectively breaking the tension in the room.

“This chapter is over,” she said, glad that she had managed to get through without faltering or stuttering too much.

Ned cleared his throat, and said: “Thank you, Sansa.” He took a deep breath and looked around. “If no one has any questions, should we simply continue?”

Everyone quickly shook their heads, eager to move on to the next topic. Jon spoke up, looking nervously around the room, and said: “I believe it is my turn?”

As Sansa handed him the book, he quickly turned to the correct page.

Chapter Text

Jon raised his eyebrows as he saw the title, announcing loudly: “This is another chapter from Lord Stark’s perspective.” 

Sansa frowned almost imperceptibly at that. Why was she the only one not getting a chapter? Now Bran, Mother, Jon and Father had each gotten two chapters – was Sansa going to be left out of the book completely? She quickly pushed those thoughts from her mind though, as she focused on Jon’s reading. 

Alyn wakes Ned before dawn, when the world is still and grey. Ned sleepily stumbles outside, to find his horse saddled and the king already mounted. 

Ned’s stern eyes softened at that. “King Robert hasn’t changed much from our youth, then,” he told his children. “In the Eyrie, he was always waking me in the early morning hours to go on an adventure of some sort.” 

The children smiled at the new piece of information about their father’s childhood. 

Robert wears a heavy fur cloak with a hood and thick gloves, and he shouts that Ned should get up! They have state matters to discuss.

Robb sat up a little straighter in his seat, eager to hear what his father and the King would be discussing. “State matters” was a phrase that sounded very interesting. Robb wondered what an actual, real king would be discussing with his Hand. 

Ned invites Robert inside his tent to talk, but Robert refuses, saying that there are ears everywhere in the camp

Jon subtly rolled his eyes. That seemed like quite an exaggeration to him – but at least the king wasn’t as gullible as Jon’s first impression of him as a fat drunkard had indicated…

and he wants to ride out and really experience the North. Ned sees two kingsguards – Ser Boros and Ser Meryn – as well as twelve guardsmen, and realises he has no choice. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and mounts his horse. 

Ned sighed in sympathy for his future self. Catelyn noticed and tried unsuccessfully to suppress an amused smirk at her husband’s future plight.

Ned gallops alongside Robert, trying to keep up. He tries to speak, but it is too windy and king can’t hear him, so Ned rides silently. The guard starts to fall back, out of earshot, but Robert does not slow down. 

The sun rises by the time the king stops, and by then they are miles away from the main party. Robert is exhilarated, and he laughs, telling Ned his good it feels to go out and ride! This creeping along is making him go mad.

Arya let out a snort of laughter at that. She liked the king, she decided. He was so much less stiff and proper than she had imagined in her head. He didn’t fit her image of a typical king at all!

Sansa shot her sister a disapproving look. Arya would find that funny! Sansa was still feeling torn with all this new-found information about the royal family, and this comment of the king’s hadn’t helped matters in the slightest. Although King Robert was the king of the Seven Kingdoms, she didn’t think King Robert should act the way he was. Queen Cersei was a much better example of grace and charm, but… Sansa felt her stomach lurch at the memory of what would happen in the tower. Her heart clenched as she cast another worried look at her younger brother, who was listening to Jon and smiling, oblivious to his sister’s thoughts. 

Robert has never been patient, Ned reflects. 

Robert goes on to complain about the creaking wheelhouse, saying that if it breaks one more axle, Robert will burn it, and Cersei can walk. 

The entire family saw the humour in that mental image, glad to have some respite from the awfulness of chapters past. Jon and Robb shared an amused glance with their father at that comment, and Arya couldn’t help but laugh out loud, which made Bran grin as well. Even Catelyn smiled almost imperceptibly as she imagined that scene playing out in her head. 

That makes Ned laugh, and he says that will happily light the torch for Robert. 

Even Sansa let out a shocked giggle. She would never have imagined her father making a comment like that before reading this book! 

The king claps him on the shoulder and says he almost just wants to keep going. What does Ned say, Robert asks. Two vagabond knights on the kingsroad, with only their swords and horses, and a tavern wench to warm their beds at night. 

Catelyn stiffened again, hearing a sentence like that pass her husband’s bastard’s lips. Why was this book constantly rubbing the past in her face? She closed her eyes as she suppressed a sigh. 

She opened them in surprise as she felt Ned slip a hand in her’s, looking at her gently with a reassuring smile on his lips. Catelyn forced herself to smile back. She knew rationally that Ned would never dishonour her in that way again. She just wished she could convince her heart of the same thing, so that she did not always tense up at the mention of the subject. 

Ned gently reminds Robert that they have duties now, to the realm, their children, their wives.

Catelyn let out a deep breath, letting the truth of those words wash over her. 

They are not the boys they used to be. 

Robert grumbles that Ned has never been a boy. 

Ned begrudgingly allowed a small smile onto his face – Robert was somewhat right about that, after all. All of a sudden, Ned felt a tiny pang of longing for his childhood friend, and the many memories they had shared together.

But there was that one time, Robert says, that common girl of Ned’s. Robert can’t remember her name, but says that she was – 

Jon’s voice broke as he stared at the page in front of him. He seemed almost frozen in shock. It took Robb’s and Arya’s confused questions for him to take a deep breath and brace himself to start reading again.

She was Ned’s bastard’s mother. 

Jon closed his eyes and forced the last section of this torture out, to get the entire thing over and done with as quickly as possible. 

Ned coolly says that her name was – 

Jon halted for a second. Once he spoke this name, there would be no going back. Shaking his head at his own cowardice, he took a breath and finished this gods-forsaken sentence.

Wylla, and he would prefer not to talk about her. 

Jon stared at Ned, a mixture of emotions playing out on his face. He had longed to hear that name, the name of his mother, for as long as he could remember. As soon as it had become clear that Lady Stark was not his mother, he had wanted to know who she was. 

Wylla. 

Somehow, knowing the answer to this life-long question did not feel as satisfying as he had hoped and prayed for it to be. 

“Wylla,” he whispered. He had hoped that saying it aloud one more time would help, but it just made the numbness stronger. Well, it seemed that the gods could not even answer that prayer, Jon thought bitterly. 

He looked at his father again, unwanted tears in his eyes. Upon meeting his father’s gaze, Jon was shocked at the raw emotion displayed in his face, a stark contrast to Lord Eddard’s usual stone-like expression. However, dealing with his father’s emotions at this revelation on top of his own was an utterly overwhelming prospect right now.

Without another word, or a glance in his siblings’ directions, Jon got up and left the room, allowing the door to slam shut behind him.

The book made a loud thud as it landed on the floor.

The silence Jon left behind in the room was ringing. His siblings looked at each other in shock, not knowing what to do. With a few words of apology to a frozen and unmoving Catelyn, Ned stood up and followed Jon outside. 

…

Ned let out a relieved breath of air as he rounded another corner to see Jon staring out of a window in the corridor. Slowing his steps to approach Jon carefully, he came to a stop next to him. 

For a long time, neither of them spoke. 

It was Ned who broke the silence. “I’m sorry, Jon,” he said.

Jon’s voice was hoarse. “For what?”

“You know I kept a lot of secrets from you through the years.”

“Why? Why didn’t you ever tell me anything about her?” Jon asked. “Even now, I don’t know where she is, I don’t know if she’s living or dead, I don’t even know how she felt about me! Why did she give me up? Why won't you tell me?”

Ned sighed heavily. “There is a lot more to this story. I know this isn’t easy to hear right now, but there is a reason, I promise. And I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you this story right now. Knowing these books, they will most likely reveal the true, full story either way, but if they don’t, I promise you that I will tell you everything you wish to know once we have finished reading. Alright?”

Jon turned his head to look his father in the eyes. He considered those words for a while, and then murmured: “Alright.”

…

Once Jon and Ned returned and sat down, Robb asked, concerned: “Do you want me to continue the chapter?”

Jon nodded once. Arya sent Jon several concerned looks, and once opened her mouth to say something before being stopped by a glare from Sansa - but he simply sat there in silence, never once lifting his gaze from the floor.

So Robb picked up the book from the floor and quickly found the correct page. He took a short breath and continued from where his brother had left off.

The king grins, and says that she must have been special to make Lord Eddard Stark forget his honour. 

Robert says that Ned has never told him what she looked like, and Ned replies angrily that he won’t ever tell Robert, and that Robert should leave it be. Ned dishonoured himself and he dishonoured Catelyn. 

The family simply listened to this in silence. There was nothing to be said, after all. 

Robert says that Ned barely knew Catelyn, but Ned protests this logic, and says that she was his wife, and carrying his child. 

Catelyn blinked away the tears that were threatening to enter her eyes. 

Robert says that Ned is too hard on himself – no woman wants Baelor the Blessed – but he won’t press Ned further. Ned should take the hedgehog as his sigil given how prickly he is. 

The joke didn’t even elicit a chuckle from the silent room.

The rising sun illuminates a wide plain, bare and brown, sometimes relieved by low, long hummocks. 

Ned and Catelyn shared a glance. With a melancholy sigh, Catelyn slowly reached out and took her husband’s hand. She had to get past this incident somehow, after all – no matter how much Catelyn wished and prayed that the entire thing had never happened, she knew that it had, and there was nothing that could be done now to change it. She still couldn’t bring herself to look at the shell-shocked Jon, however, and so opted to just look at the ground while her son steadily continued reading.

Ned points out the barrows of the First Men to his king. Robert frowns and asks if they are graves, and Ned replies that the land is old – there are barrows everywhere in the North. 

Robert grumbles about the cold, and then he says that he summoned Ned for a different reason than old graves or Ned’s bastard. 

This sentence seemed to breathe life back into the room, as people sat up in their chairs in interest, glad to have a different topic to focus on. Even Jon, who had let his thoughts drift for the past few sentences, blinked hard and shook his head couple of times to rid himself of the negative thoughts and pay attention to the book again. 

There was a rider in the night, from Varys. 

Bran frowned in confusion. Nervous to be the first one to break the silence in a long time, he asked softly: “Who is Varys?”

It was Ned who answered: “Varys is the King’s spymaster, who brings the King important pieces of information that help him run the kingdom.”

Bran’s eyes shone at the idea of a spymaster as he nodded in understanding.

Robert hands Ned the scroll from the master of whispers, and Ned slowly opens it. He is afraid it will speak of Lysa’s terrible accusation, but the message discusses something different.

“What is it?” Arya asked, curiously. 

“I’m sure we’ll find out soon, Arya,” Robb said, smiling gently at his sister.

When Ned asks for the source of this information, Robert says it is Ser Jorah Mormont, who had once tried to sell poachers into slavery to make more money for his relatively poor family. Ned had travelled west to Bear Island as Warden of the North, only to find that Jorah had escaped across the sea. That had been five years ago. 

Robert says that Jorah is now in Pentos, wanting a royal pardon to hopefully return from exile. Ned distastefully remarks that the slaver is now a spy, and that Ned would rather he was dead. 

At this, Jon sharply lifted his head to look at Robb. 

“Ser Jorah is a spy?” he whispered hoarsely. And after Daenerys took such a liking to him during her chapters! Jon had felt a strange, immediate kinship with this strange girl who was showing up in a book about his family. He even remembered feeling glad that she had a fellow Westerosi by her side whom she could trust and depend on while surrounded by savage Dothraki and her (perhaps even more savage?) older brother. And now that man was a spy for the King? Perhaps this chapter was doomed to only bring misery, Jon couldn’t help but think, as he bitterly lowered his head again.

Robert says that he is useful to Varys and the realm, and asks Ned what he makes of the message. 

It’s not that important that Daenerys Targaryen has wed some Dothraki horse lord, Ned says. He asks if they should send her a wedding gift, and Robert says that maybe a good, sharp knife would do, with a strong man to wield it. 

Ned is not surprised by the response; Robert is mad with hatred for the Targaryens. Ned remembers their angry fight when Tywin Lannister had shown Robert the corpses of Rhaegar’s wife and children as tokens of fealty. Ned had been horrified by the murder of babes, but Robert simply called it war. He had said that those are no babes, only dragonspawn. 

Arya and Sansa shared a look of utter shock. They had heard stories of the rebellion before, of course, but never in such detail!

Not even Jon Arryn had been able to calm the storm, and Ned had ridden south in rage to finish the battles of the rebellion. Only their shared grief over Lyanna’s death had been able to reconcile Ned and Robert. 

Ned’s face was like stone as he listened to the book’s description of some of the most painful times of his life. It seemed so… simple, uncomplicated, summarised in those short sentences. There were so many things he had done during this time of his life that he regretted, so many vital, life-changing events that happened… Now, he and Robert were among the few who really knew what it had been like all those years ago. And there were countless things Robert didn’t know either. Not for the first time, Ned couldn’t help but wonder how the author of this book had managed to find out all this private information. 

This time, Ned wants to keep his temper, and he tells Robert calmly that the girl is little more than a child, and Robert is no Tywin Lannister, slaughtering innocents. 

Ned remembers rumours that Rhaegar’s young daughter had cried as she was dragged from beneath her bed and killed. The boy had only been a baby, and Tywin’s soldiers had dashed his head against a wall with his mother watching. 

Bran thought his stomach might turn over in horror as he listened to his brother’s voice. He was proud of his father, though, for standing up to the King. He suddenly felt a fierce surge of protectiveness as he thought of tiny three-year-old Rickon, asleep in his bed upstairs. How old had the Prince and Princess been, he wondered?

Robert’s mouth is hard as he replies that she won’t remain innocent for long. The child will soon spread her legs and start breeding. 

Ned persists in his arguments, calling the murder of children unspeakable. 

Now Robert is angry. Unspeakable was what they did to Ned’s brother Brandon! The way Ned’s father died! How many times does Ned think Rhaegar raped Ned’s sister? Hundreds?

The family listened to this tirade in silence, their eyes widened in shock. The children all thought that this seemed like a private conversation between their father and King Robert they shouldn’t be intruding on – but at the same time, fascinating to learn more about. Arya, Bran and Sansa all knew the basic pieces of information, of course. Their Aunt Lyanna was buried in the crypts beneath Winterfell, after all. But the true horror of the story had not been clear to them until now. 

Jon and Robb knew a lot more, but even so, Robb’s voice was noticeably shaking as he read these sentences.

Robert’s voice is so loud that the horses are getting nervous. Robert points at Ned angrily and says that he will kill every Targaryen he can, and then piss on their graves. 

Ned quietly says that Robert can’t get his hands on this one, and Robert’s mouth twists in a grimace, as he regrets not killing both of them years ago. Jon was as bad as Ned, and Robert says he was a fool for listening to him. 

Ned says that Jon was wise, and Robert snorts, talking about the hundred thousand men in Khal Drogo’s horde. Ned replies that even a million Dothraki are no threat, all the way in Essos, as they don’t have ships and fear the open sea. 

Ned’s eyes narrowed in interest at the turn of the conversation. With the current information available to them, he wholeheartedly stood behind the opinions of his future self, but… to say the least, it would be fascinating to learn more about Daenerys and her journey - be it eastward or westward - through the course of the book. Perhaps he should slowly begin preparing for an invasion by Viserys? Ned supposed they would soon find out.

Robert seems uncomfortable, and says that ships can be found in the Free Cities. He remembers how many houses fought on the Targaryens’ side in the war, and says that there are many still who call him usurper. If Viserys crosses the sea, the traitors will join him and murder Robert and his family in their beds. 

Ned promises that he will not cross, and once Robert chooses a new Warden of the East – 

Robert groans and refuses to put so much power on the shoulders of the sickly Robert Arryn, even though he is Ned’s nephew. 

“Still, he must choose someone as Warden of the East,” Catelyn muttered softly, looking to her husband for confirmation. Ned nodded, distracted by his own thoughts on the matter. He was genuinely concerned for his friend’s secure reign over Westeros, and prayed Robert would not choose someone unsuitable after Jon Arryn had died. He waited for Robb to continue reading, curious as to whom Robert had decided for. 

Ned changes tactic and suggests Robert’s brother Stannis for the post, but stops himself and asks if Robert has already promised it to someone else. 

Ned figures out that it’s Jaime Lannister and Robert agrees, staring straight ahead and kicking his horse back into motion. 

“Jaime Lannister?!” Ned exclaimed. What was Robert thinking? Especially after what they had read about Bran – not only was this man a Kingslayer and an Oath-breaker, he had tried to murder Ned’s son! No, the Seven Kingdoms would be very vulnerable with a man like that as the Warden of the East and the West. At this point, Ned could only hope that his future self would be able to disabuse Robert of this notion.

They start arguing, as Jaime will become Warden of the West when Tywin Lannister dies, and Ned believes that no man should have power over both East and West. Robert repeats stubbornly that the decision has already been made, and Ned asks if Robert can trust Jaime Lannister, since he broke his vows and killed his previous king. 

Ned decides then to tell Robert the whole truth of what happened, and asks Robert about the Trident. Ned says that when Robert was wounded, he gave Ned control of the pursuit, but King’s Landing was already taken by Lannister men when he arrived. They had taken the city by treachery, he tells Robert. 

Robert is getting angry again, and replies that the Targaryens were often treacherous as well, so it was no less than they deserved. He won’t trouble his sleep over it. 

Ned thinks privately that troubled sleep is no stranger to him, as he has lived lies for fourteen years and is still haunted by the lies at night. 

Catelyn sent Ned an alarmed look at that, and Ned just smiled softly at her to calm her down.

He hated secrets, he truly did, but it was too late now to back and change his decisions. He had lived his lies for fourteen years, and he had no choice but to live them still a little while longer.

Out loud he says that there was no honour in the conquest. Robert had already avenged Lyanna at the Trident. The words Promise me, Ned, still ring in his ears.

Ned stiffened imperceptibly. How was this book doing this? How was it possible to enter into his most private thoughts and pull that sentence out – the sentence which had haunted him for the past fourteen years?

Unwanted tears entered Sansa’s eyes as she heard Robb read that sentence. Her father had never really talked much about his sister, and she could not even imagine the painful memories this book must be bringing up for him. Sansa didn’t want to think about any of her own siblings dying – reading about Bran’s fall had been horrific enough for a lifetime. Unthinkingly, she reached out and grabbed Bran’s hand, who was startled at first, but then relaxed into his sister’s comforting touch.

Robert whispers that it did not bring her back. His victory was hollow – it was the girl he had prayed for, not the crown. 

Ned tells Robert the story of how he rode into the throne room to see Jaime Lannister seated on the Iron Throne, surrounded by Lannister men, with Aerys on the floor, drowned in his own blood. Ned continues, telling Robert how he was still mounted, riding in silence and stopping in front of the throne, staring at Jaime. Finally Jaime laughed and got up, joking that Ned should have no fear, and that he was only keeping the uncomfortable seat warm for their friend Robert. 

Despite the somber mood in the room, Arya didn’t quite manage to suppress a shocked laugh. She hadn’t been expecting a comment like that from this horrible man! And such an awful situation, too. Her mother gave Arya a quick, disapproving glance at her unsuitable reaction, and Arya looked down guiltily. 

Robb’s mouth twitched in slight amusement as he continued reading, relieved to see only a few more paragraphs until the end.

The story makes Robert laugh, and he asks if he should mistrust Jaime because he sat on Robert’s throne for a few minutes? Robert adds through his laughter that Jaime was only seventeen, barely more than a boy. There is no other place to rest your ass in that room, the boy was right, it is very uncomfortable in more ways than one.

The king shakes his head, saying that now he knows Jaime’s dark sin, and the topic can be forgotten. He is sick of secrets and tedious politics. He tells Ned to ride with him, as Robert wants to feel the wind in his hair again. With that, he gallops away. 

Jon shook his head softly, glad for the distraction from his own thoughts about this woman called Wylla. He was not getting a good impression from this King from these early chapters... Why would he even choose to be King if politics were so “tedious” to him? Jon couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for his father, at being forced to be the Hand of this seemingly incompetent King.

For a moment, Ned does not follow, speechless and filled with helplessness. 

Bran looked at his father with wide eyes. This chapter kept showing him new sides to his father that he had never seen before! He had never thought about his father feeling helpless. Bran had always, his entire life, seen his lord father someone who always had an answer, and a solution, and who always helped Bran with everything. 

He wonders again what he is doing here. 

Ned was wondering that too, listening to this. Perhaps his future self should have stayed with Bran after all? So far, this role as the Hand of the King was not going as he had hoped. And they hadn’t even arrived in King’s Landing yet!

He is not Jon Arryn, who could teach Robert wisdom. Ned can’t change Robert’s mind on anything. Ned belongs in Winterfell, with Bran and Catelyn. 

“So stay,” Catelyn turned and murmured to Ned. 

Ned looked at her, and replied softly: “Once this book is finished we shall know for sure, but I dare say you were right, my lady. I too feel that should have trusted my first instincts and stayed.”

But one can’t always be where he belongs, and with a heavy sigh, Ned follows his king.

“The chapter ends here,” Robb said with a sigh. He carefully closed the book, placing it on the table.

Ned looked at his family. “I propose we stop for tonight. It is getting late, and this was… a difficult chapter for many of us. Tomorrow we will continue.”

Robb, Catelyn, Sansa and Arya nodded in agreement, as Bran failed to suppress a yawn. Jon laughed at his little brother, glad that this long, emotional session was over. This was a much-needed break for all of them, Jon supposed, and he was glad for the opportunity to think about the revelations of the day. 

Catelyn was the first to stand, and she said: “Perhaps we should meet here around mid-morning tomorrow?”

Everyone agreed to this plan and started to leave the room, in search of an evening meal.

Chapter Text

The next morning found the Stark family on their way back to the reading chamber. None of them had slept well the night before.

Ned and Catelyn had not spoken to each other much after leaving the dining hall. Catelyn was still struggling after the revelation last chapter concerning Wylla, and had gone to sleep quickly to avoid the conversation that would surely come soon. She would forgive her husband eventually – she always did – but she still needed time for her wounds to heal.

Jon had had a similar problem. All night, he had lain in his bed, trying to conjure up a mental image of Wylla and failing. Somehow the long-awaited revelation of his mother’s name was still not satisfying. Jon resolved to confront his father as soon as the book was finished. He was fourteen years old after all, practically a man grown, and he deserved answers!

Robb, Sansa, Arya and Bran had not fared much better, and so, rubbing sleep out of their eyes, they were all eager to just continue where they left off last night and finish reading this strange book of the future as quickly as possible. 

Once everyone was seated comfortably, Ned took out the book from his pocket.

“I kept it with me last night, to keep it safe,” he explained. “It would not be good if this fell into the wrong hands.”

“Who would like to read this chapter?” Catelyn asked.

Bran raised his hand. “I haven’t read one in ages!”

“Alright,” Ned smiled, handing Bran the book. The family all settled into their seats, waiting for Bran to find the correct page and begin reading.

When he saw the chapter title, Bran said happily: “This will be from Tyrion’s point of view!” Bran had liked Tyrion last time, so he was excited to read about him again.

The north goes on forever.

Robb let out a surprised laugh. This is how the chapter starts? “I suppose he is right,” Robb said out loud.

“Especially for a southerner, it must appear to be endless,” Jon added quietly.

Tyrion Lannister knows the maps well, but now he realises that the map is one thing and the land quite another.

Catelyn smiled, hearing Tyrion’s thoughts. How strange to think that, not so long ago, she had also been a southern foreigner to this land, and now, she could scarcely imagine living anywhere else.

They left Winterfell at the same time as the king, but turned north when they reached the kingsroad, leaving the tumult of the royal party behind them.

It grew colder and quieter after that.

There are grey hills to the west, and rolling plains to the right, with stone bridges and small farms, as well as inns to spend the night in. But after three days journey, the farmland turns into dense woods, the road grows lonely, and the hills rise and grow slowly into mountains the farther north they go.

Ned’s eyes softened slightly. He was indescribably fond of this rugged, cold, seemingly endless land that he called home. And Winterfell right in the heart of it. That is where he belonged, Ned thought not for the first time. 

Benjen Stark calls this forest the wolfswood. It is older and darker than any forest Tyrion has ever seen. At night the forest comes alive with the howls of distant wolf packs

Bran’s eyes shone in excitement as he read that line. What wouldn’t he give to one day hear those sounds for himself!

and Jon Snow’s albino wolf pricks his ears, but never howls in reply. Tyrion finds that animal unsettling.

“Don’t insult Ghost,” Jon muttered in defence of his direwolf. “’Unsettling’, honestly.”

Robb snorted softly, overhearing Jon’s snarky comment.

They travel in a group of eight, nine if you count the wolf. Tyrion, two of his men, Jon Snow and Benjen Stark, and another black brother called Yoren, who brings a pair of peasant boys with him.

“Yoren? I’ve heard that name before. It seems familiar,” Ned said, frowning. “Has he visited us in Winterfell before?” he mused. No one had an answer for him.

Yoren is stooped and sinister, with a wild black beard, and seems hard as a stone. He explains, with a cold look, that the two peasants are rapists.

Bran frowned as he read that word. He knew it was very bad of course – he had heard his brothers and his father and Ser Rodrik Cassel say that word before, always with contempt in their voices, and it was apparently bad enough to be sent away for – but he still didn’t know what it meant exactly. He decided against asking, though, and quickly kept reading.

Tyrion understands – the idea of life at the Wall must have been preferable to castration.

Tyrion notices Jon Snow watching Yoren and his companions with a look of dismay on his face.

Robb and Arya both looked over to Jon in concern as they heard that sentence, but his expression was unreadable.

Yoren has a twisted shoulder, a sour smell, greasy and matted hair that is full of lice

Sansa shuddered in disgust.

and patched clothing that is rarely washed. His two recruits smell even worse and seem stupid as well as cruel.

Jon was shocked and dismayed at this description. Just like his future self apparently would be, he thought with slight bitterness. Even after all these chapters, he was still not used to the way this book was recording their every thought and reaction so perfectly accurately.

He pushed that feeling to the side, though, concentrating on the important details. These were the kind of people Jon would be expected to spend the rest of life with? Serving in the Night’s Watch was one of the greatest honours – it shouldn’t just be a punishment for rapists… right? After all, what about his uncle Benjen? Was he just the one exception among a bunch of criminals?

Tyrion assumes that the boy had thought the Night’s Watch would be full of people like his uncle. Yoren and his recruits must be a rude awakening. Tyrion feels sorry for Jon. The boy has chosen a hard life… or maybe a hard life had been chosen for him?

He has less sympathy for the uncle, who seems to dislike Lannisters, and is not pleased with Tyrion accompanying them to the Wall.  

“What did he expect? To be welcomed on this journey with open arms?” Ned muttered inaudibly. He closed his eyes for a second as he continued listening. It was undeniably interesting to learn about the thoughts of Tyrion Lannister, but Ned did not like him.

He couldn’t say no to the Queen’s brother, though, and simply warned Tyrion that he would not like the ride.

After a full week of travelling, Tyrion’s legs are raw and his muscles are cramping, and he is constantly cold.

Ned and Robb both smiled a little at that, decidedly on Benjen’s side in this tiny conflict.  

He never complains, not wanting to give Stark the satisfaction of being right.

He is not used to the chilling cold, and is therefore grateful for his riding fur, which he had graciously accepted from Benjen Stark, who had no doubt offered it to him, expecting Tyrion to refuse. Perhaps Stark has learned a lesson through this. Lannisters never decline – the Lannisters take what is offered.

Catelyn raised her eyebrows at this blatant acknowledgement of greed. That sounded about right, from all she had heard about this family.

Tyrion is not used to camping and feels as though is in the way of the others.

Sansa looked down in embarrassment, being able to relate to this feeling very well. Whenever she was outside with her siblings, she felt the exact same way, which was why she had spent much more time with her Septa and Jeyne Poole of late, leaving the other o go on adventures without her. It was odd, hearing this feeling being put into words so perfectly.

So, while they erect shelters and tend to the horses and fires, Tyrion takes some wine and goes off by himself to read. On the eighteenth day of travel

“18 days?!” Bran interrupted himself, looking at his family for answers. “Is the Wall that far away from Winterfell?”

“Even further, actually,” Ned answered. “It usually takes about three to four weeks in total if you travel in a group like this.”

Bran’s eyes were wide in surprise as he nodded his understanding.

he reads a book he borrowed from the Winterfell library with Lord Starks permission. In a comfortable spot leaning against a tree, with a wineskin in hand, Tyrion reads about the properties of dragonbone. Tyrion has a morbid fascination with dragons.

The Starks listened patiently to Tyrion’s inner thoughts and monologue about dragons, and his memories of the dragon skulls in the Red Keep. The way he described the sheer size of Balerion, the Black Dread, who could swallow a mammoth whole, was awe-inspiring.

Tyrion’s thoughts about a battle called the Field of Fire are interrupted when Jon comes over and asks Tyrion why he reads so much.

Jon sat up in interest, not having expected this chapter to focus on him at all. He wondered what would happen in this conversation, remembering what Tyrion had said in the last one.

In place of an answer, Tyron closes his book and tells Jon to look at Tyrion and tell him what he sees.

The boy suspiciously answers that he sees Tyrion Lannister.

Jon and Arya shared a look of mutual confusion. Why would Tyrion ask that question? He must know that Jon knows who he is, right?

Tyrion sighs, and comments on Jon’s politeness. What Jon sees is a dwarf, Tyrion says.

“Oh,” Sansa mouthed. She was beginning to understand Tyrion’s point.

Arya still looked confused, but kept her questions to herself as Bran continued reading.

Tyrion tries to explain. Jon is twelve –

“Fourteen,” Jon interjected, frowning slightly at the obvious mistake. Bran giggled a little as he read the next sentence.

“Fourteen,” the boy immediately corrects.

Jon flushed, and Robb sent him an amused glance.

Fourteen, and he is already taller than Tyrion will ever be. Tyrion’s legs are shot and twisted, and he has difficulty walking. He designed his own saddle to keep himself falling off his horse and would otherwise be forced to ride a pony. His arms are strong, but much too short to ever make him a swordsman. As a peasant, he would have been left to die as a baby.  As luck would have it, though, Tyrion is born a Lannister, and must do his part for the honour of his house. But how?  His mind is his weapon. His brother has a sword and the king has a Warhammer, and Tyrion has his mind… and a mind needs books like a sword needs a whetstone. That is why Tyrion reads so much.

Jon listens to this speech in silence.

The Starks all nodded slightly in understanding. This made a lot of sense. Like future Jon, they had all stayed silent during the speech, lost in their thoughts as they listened, not wanting to interrupt Bran’s reading.  

Tyrion notices that the boy has the Stark face: solemn, guarded, giving nothing away. Whoever his mother was, she had left little of herself in her son.

Jon visibly flinched at the reminder.

Ned looked at the ground. He needed to tell Jon soon, he decided again. Once this book was finished. Jon needed to know. He couldn’t go his whole life believing – Ned pushed that thought process down immediately and focused on Bran’s reading. Ned sighed inaudibly. It wouldn’t help anyone if he just kept thinking about this non-stop.

Tyrion tells Jon he’s been reading about dragons, and Jon answers that there are no more dragons, so what’s the point in reading about them?

“But they’re so interesting to learn about!” Bran said, looking at Jon, who was clearly in agreement with his future self, with wide eyes.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Jon answered. He smiled a little at Bran, trying to get himself out of his weird mood that he had been in since last night. “They are fascinating, but… I guess I just don’t see the point in thinking so much about something that has been gone for such a long time.”

“Well, I like dragons,” Bran said before turning back to the book.

“Sad, isn’t it?” Tyrion replies. He goes on to say that when he was young, he would dream of having a dragon of his own, seated on a dragon’s back to look down on the world.

Arya perked up when he heard that. That would be pretty fun, she supposed. Seeing the dragon skulls in the Red Keep was one of the few things she was actually excited about when it came to her possible future move to King’s Landing with her father and Sansa.

Sometimes he’d

Bran stopped and looked at the page in shock. He took a deep breath and kept reading hesitantly.

imagine his father or his sister burning.

Everyone looked at each other in horror. They had known, of course, that Tyrion didn’t care for his sister, but to imagine her burning? For fun? That was a whole different level of hatred.

“Keep reading, Bran,” Ned said in a tight voice.

Jon looks horrified and fascinated all at once. Tyrion laughs, and says that surely Jon the bastard has dreamt the same dreams at some point?

Robb looked curiously at his brother to see his reaction. Jon was shaking his head in protest, looking at Robb with wide eyes, desperate for Robb to believe him. Robb laughed softly in reassurance, laying a hand on Jon’s shoulder to comfort him. “Relax,” Robb whispered. “I know that Tyrion has no idea what he’s talking about.”

At Jon’s horrified protests, Tyrion raises an eyebrow.

Never? Tyrion asks innocently. Well, no doubt the Starks have been terribly good to Jon. Surely the Lady Stark treats him like one of her own.

Jon and Catelyn vehemently avoided eye contact, both looking away awkwardly.

Bran continued reading this paragraph in a very soft and hesitant tone of voice, eyes glued firmly to the book.

His brother Robb has always been kind – after all, why wouldn’t he be, when he will inherit Winterfell, while Jon gets the Wall? And his father ... he must have good reasons for sending Jon to the Nights Watch …

No one spoke. Ned, Robb and Arya were all trying to make eye contact with Jon, trying to convince him that none of what Tyrion was saying was true, but Jon was staring firmly at the floor, jaw clenched shut to keep himself from speaking. This speech was hitting him harder than he had thought.

Jon is getting angry, and shouts at Tyrion to stop it. The Night’s Watch is a noble calling!

Tyrion only laughs.  Jon is too smart to seriously believe that – the Night’s Watch is a midden heap for all the misfits in the realm. Peasants, rapists, thieves and bastards like Jon all wind up at the Wall, watching out for grumkins and snarks, which thankfully don’t exist so it’s not dangerous work. The bad news is that everyone freezes their balls off, but that hardly matters –

Stop it! The boy screams, close to tears.

Jon was close to tears in this time as well, still staring resolutely at the floor. Bran’s halting, hesitant voice was not having the same effect as he imagined it would have been like listening to Tyrion say this in real life, but the words were just harsh. Peasants and rapists and thieves. And bastards, too, he supposed. Those were the people Jon was going to swear an oath to, who he was going to protect and defend with his life, all his life, until he was dead.

Was this what Uncle Benjen had tried to warn him of? What was Jon going to do?

Suddenly, absurdly, Tyrion feels guilty, and takes a step forward, wanting to apologise. He never sees the wolf coming and is lying on the ground in the next second, his mouth full of blood and dirt.

“Woah!” Arya shouted in surprise. She had not expected that at all. Despite all the awful things Tyrion had said, she hoped he was alright.

Jon looked up in shock. He loved his wolf already, despite not having known him that long, but he hadn’t thought that Ghost would actually defend him like this. He felt oddly touched by the loyalty, even as he knew that he hadn’t needed to be defended in this situation.

His back throbs painfully – he must have strained it during the fall.

Sansa frowned in concern. She hoped he hadn’t injured himself too badly.

He asks Jon to help him, holding a hand up, but the wolf is showing his teeth, and the boy is stroking his wolf’s fur, smiling. Ask me nicely, Jon says.

Robb rolled his eyes at future Jon’s antics. Could he never just be straightforward and help the man up? Granted, perhaps Tyrion had deserved it after the horrible things he had hurled at Jon’s head, but still… Robb couldn’t help the slight feeling of pity rising in him.

It is not the first time Tyrion has been humiliated and will not be the last. Perhaps he even deserves this. Firmly crushing out the anger that coils inside him, Tyrion says mildly that he would be most grateful for Jon’s kind assistance.

Jon orders his direwolf to sit, and easily lifts Tyrion to his feet.

Wiping blood from his face, Tyrion asks why the wolf attacked him, and Jon answers that perhaps he thought Tyrion was a grumkin.

Robb, Arya and Ned let out a surprised laugh. Even Catelyn and Sansa smiled a little at the unexpected joke. Jon looked distinctly proud of his future self for the comment.

Tyrion looks at Jon, and snorts loudly.

Bran was grinning too, thankful for the broken tension in the room.

Choking on his laughter and shaking his head, he concedes that he does rather look like a grumkin. What would the wolf do to snarks?

You don’t want to know, Jon replies, handing Tyrion the wineskin.

The family was smiling slightly at this exchange, glad that Tyrion and Jon were somewhat getting along after that loaded conversation.

Tyrion drinks a soothing mouthful of wine, and offers the skin to Jon Snow, who cautiously accepts.

When he is done drinking, he asks softly if what Tyrion said about the Night’s Watch is true.  

Jon raised his head hopefully, praying that it had all been a lie after all.

Tyrion nods.

Jon nodded disappointedly as he listened to Bran read that line. He should have expected that, after all. People had been trying to warn him for a while – they couldn’t have all been lying. If that was what it was, his future self would just have to learn to deal with it. And he needed to spend some more time thinking.

Jon’s mouth turns into a hard line, and he says that if that’s what it is, then that’s what it is.

Ned smiled in approval, proud of Jon for being able to accept and confront these facts.

Arya frowned, however. She couldn’t imagine reacting in that way to a revelation as big as this! She cared about Jon a lot and didn’t want him to just be resigned to his fate like this. Arya sent her big brother a worried look, but his expression was hard to read.

Tyrion grins. Most men would rather deny the hard truth than face it, he says, and Jon replies that Tyrion is not one of those men.

No, Tyrion admits, he isn’t. He seldom even dreams of dragons anymore. There are no dragons.

Bran sighed sadly as he read that sentence.

With that, they get up and walk back to the camp together. Jon Snow offers to help him make it over the tangled roots, but Tyrion refuses. He will make his own way as he has always done.

When they arrive at the camp, Tyrion tastes some of the savoury stew. Stark asks Jon where he has been – they had thought the Others had taken them. Tyrion tells him that it was the grumkins

Arya snorted loudly which made Jon smile.

which makes Jon smile and Stark look at Tyrion oddly.

That night, they all eat the stew, and Tyrion shares his wine around. As the men all drift off to sleep Tyrion looks once more at Jon Snow, who has drawn the night’s first watch. The boy stands near the fire, his face still and hard, looking deep into the flames.

Tyrion Lannister smiles sadly and goes to bed.

“This chapter is finished,” Bran said loudly closing the book.

“Very good, Bran,” Ned answered, taking it from his son. “I suggest we get as much reading as possible done today. Unless anyone has anything to say, shall we simply continue with the next chapter?”

No one protested this suggestion, and the family prepared to keep reading.

Chapter Text

“I believe it is my turn to read the next chapter,” Ned said, reaching out to take the book.

When no one objected, he opened the book, quickly finding the correct page. He briefly closed his eyes to prepare himself and then read the title: “Catelyn.”

She looked up in surprise – they hadn’t read anything from her point of view in a while. What would be going on in her head during this time in the future? With Ned and the girls gone, and Bran… oh, gods, Bran! Catelyn felt impossibly guilty for not thinking of her son’s future fate in a while. Her mind had been so full, with all these new insights and pieces of information that they had been learning during the past few chapters, that she hadn’t remembered what would happen so soon in the future if nothing changed. Catelyn closed her eyes in dread as her husband began to read. She did not at all feel ready for this.

Eight days after Ned and the girls had left, Maester Luwin visits Catelyn in Bran’s sickroom with the books of account, saying that it is high time they review the figures to find out how much the royal visit had cost.

Robb looked at his parents in interest. “How much would this royal visit cost us?” he asked quietly.

Ned said: “Well, that depends on several things: how large the royal party was, and how much food was eaten during the feasts… for a visit such as this, we would only go through the figures afterwards. It would be rude to refuse the royal guests anything if they ask for it, so one can never be sure in advance.” He smiled at his son, who nodded in understanding.

Catelyn looks at Bran and brushes his hair off his forehead, realising how long it has grown. She will need to cut it soon. Never taking her eyes off Bran, she tells Maester Luwin that she has no need to look at the figures, and that he should take the books away.

Bran frowned, and looked at his mother in concern. Why was she not listening to Maester Luwin? What was wrong with him? They had heard during Tyrion’s chapter that he was going to pull through, that he was going to be fine after his fall… right? Bran suddenly felt a stab of fear as his father continued reading. He could not tear his eyes away from his mother, hoping for comfort, but her face was like stone as she listened.

Maester Luwin protests, but Catelyn cuts him off, saying that the steward will see to Winterfell’s needs regarding the food stores.

Maester Luwin refuses to leave, though, telling Catelyn that the steward went to King’s Landing with Lord Eddard. He reminds Catelyn of a little grey rat, not letting go of this topic.

Robb, Sansa and Arya exchanged worried looks. That thought didn’t seem like their mother at all! A little grey rat? Maester Luwin?

Everyone stayed silent, though, listening to Eddard read the next sentences.

She nods absently in agreement. Bran looks so pale, she thinks. She wonders if they might move his bed to the window, so he can get some sunlight.

Sansa was feeling more and more uneasy as this chapter went on. Her mother seemed almost unrecognisable, with the strange way she was acting. Would Bran’s condition worsen after she and Father and Arya had left? Was her brother’s continued sleep and her mother’s… strange behaviour her fault? She closed her eyes and prayed that Bran would be alright in this future.

Maester Luwin is still talking, telling Catelyn about several appointments that need her immediate attention: they need a new captain of the guards, a new master of horse –

Catelyn’s eyes snap up. A master of horse? She asks, her voice like a whip.

Catelyn was visibly shaken, listening to her husband read this. She could not even imagine what her future self must be going through. It had been horrible enough listening to Bran’s fall, but this? Actually living through her worst nightmare? She closed her eyes to gather her emotions, and then looked at her son, sitting next to her, healthy and awake and alive, thank the gods, and focused on her husband’s voice.

The maester is shaken by her response but tries to explain that Hullen went south as well. 

Catelyn isn’t listening. Her son lies here -

Ned’s voice cracked, but he continued reading the next words.

Broken and dying -

The entire family flinched, and Bran looked at his mother with tears entering his eyes. He rubbed at them angrily, not wanting to cry. Catelyn reached out for her son and held him tightly in her arms.

and Luwin wants to discuss a new a new master of horse? she says loudly. She doesn’t care one whit what happens in the stables! She would gladly butcher every horse in Winterfell if it would open Bran’s eyes, does Luwin understand that?

The room was silent. No one knew what to say.

Robb interrupts her tirade, saying that he will make the appointments.

Sansa let out a shaky breath of relief that future Robb had interrupted. She hated listening to this. Her mother had never acted like that before, ever, in Sansa’s life. And Bran - she could not even think about it. Was this really what the future would be like? Because if this was the price Sansa would have to pay for becoming queen and living happily in King’s Landing, then she didn’t want it.

Catelyn has not heard him enter. She realises only now that she had been shouting, feeling a sudden flush of shame. What is happening to her? She is so tired, and her head hurts all the time.

Catelyn, listening to this, felt a similar feeling of shame. Her children should not have to sit here, listing to their mother lose her mind to grief. Especially Bran, she thought, looking at her son in her arms. He should be outside, playing with his friends and siblings, with not a care in the world.

Not for the first time, Catelyn wished the mysterious sender of these books had allowed her and Ned to read this alone. A seven-year-old should not be burdened with this.

Catelyn closed her eyes and prayed that her future self would make an effort to not completely fall apart because of this tragedy. She didn’t think she or her children would be able to handle listening to that.

Maester Luwin turns to her son, and gives him a list of those they might consider for the vacant positions. Robb glances at the names in approval, and tells Luwin that they’ll discuss the matter tomorrow. He hands the list back, and tells Maester Luwin to leave them.

When Robb closes the door, turning to her, she sees that he is wearing a sword.

Robb felt a tiny flicker of excitement at the news of a real sword, but quickly pushed it back down. There were much more important things at stake here, like his brother and his mother, he reminded himself, feeling slightly ashamed of his own thought process.

Robb asks Catelyn what she is doing.

Catelyn has always thought that Robb looks like her, like Sansa, Bran and Rickon, with the auburn hair and blue eyes, but now she sees something of Eddard Stark in his face, with his stern and hard expression.

Ned’s eyes were warm as he looked at his eldest son, proud of the maturity he was showing. Robb smiled back, a little shy.

She is puzzled by Robb’s question, and explains that she is taking care of Bran. How can he ask that?

Robb says that she hasn’t left this room since Bran was hurt. She didn’t even come to the gate when Father and the girls were leaving.

“Really?” Sansa whispered, disappointed. No one heard her comment. Sansa blushed slightly, feeling embarrassed at her childishness in this situation. She couldn’t help it; she wanted her mother to come to the gate and say farewell to her when she moved to the other end of the continent. Was that so bad?

Ned continued reading, oblivious to his daughter’s thoughts.

Catelyn answers that she said goodbye up here, and then watched from the window.

She remembers that she had begged Ned not to go, not now after all that had happened, but it had been no use. He had told her that he had no choice, and then he left, choosing.  

Ned sent Catelyn a pained look as he read that sentence.

What had possessed him to leave his family like this? His son? His wife, who needed him, and had begged him not to go? A sense of duty. Duty and his old friend Robert Baratheon. Judging from his own chapters, his future self was beginning to regret the decision already, and he didn’t even have this knowledge. Eddard Stark closed his eyes very briefly and prayed that he would be able to make the right decision this time around.

Out loud, she tells Robb that she can’t leave Bran even for a moment, not when any moment could be his last. She has to be with him if… if…

Sansa couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her face as she reached out to hold her little brother’s trembling hand. By this point, there was not one dry eye in the room.

She reaches out and holds his limp hand. He is so frail and thin, but she can still feel the warmth of his skin.

Robb’s voice is soft as he tells her that Bran isn’t going to die, that the greatest danger is past.

What if that’s not true? What if Bran needs her and she isn’t there? She asks.

Robb says sharply that Rickon needs her.

Catelyn felt a rush of shame at those words. Rickon! What was wrong with her? Even now, when none of this horror had yet struck her family, she was still in this rom all day, with all her other children, leaving her three-year-old son in the hands of his nursemaid. She needed to do better in the future, Catelyn thought, and she resolved to spend more time with her youngest son that evening.

He’s only three, he doesn’t understand what’s happening, he thinks everyone has deserted him and follows Robb around all day, crying… Robb pauses, and then says that he needs her too. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s trying, but he can’t do it by himself.

Arya’s strength finally broke and she couldn’t hold her tears in any longer. She wiped at her eyes angrily, not wanting to cry, but couldn’t help it. Jon sent his sister a comforting glance, and reached out to put an arm over her shoulder.  

Robb’s voice breaks with emotion, and suddenly Catelyn remembers that he is only fourteen. She wants to go to him, but Bran is still holding her hand and she can’t move.

Ned looked at his grieving family in concern, and paused his reading to clear his throat. “If anyone needs it, there’s no shame in asking for a break,” he suggested calmly. “If you wish, we can stop here and continue reading this in the morning.”

The Starks sent each other uncertain looks, trying to come up with a decision. Bran, still wrapped in his mother’s arms, was the one who broke the silence. “No,” he said, his voice trembling, seeming impossibly small, “I want to finish this chapter at least. I need to know what happens.”

Eddard Stark sent his son a small, proud smile. “If that is what you wish,” he agreed, and went back to the book.

Catelyn held Bran tighter as she prepared for her husband to start reading again.

Outside, a wolf begins to howl and Catelyn trembles for a second.

Robb says that it is Bran’s wolf and he opens the window, letting air into the stuffy room and making the howling grow louder. It sounds cold and lonely, full of despair.

Catelyn protests this, because Bran needs to stay warm. Robb answers that Bran needs to hear them sing.

That made Bran smile softly. He loved his wolf so much. As Ned continued reading about how Shaggydog and Grey Wind joined the howling as well, all Stark siblings started to smile a little, sitting up taller in their seats, seeming to draw strength from those words.  

Catelyn is shaking. It is the grief, the cold, the howling of the direwolves night after night, on and on it goes, never changing, and her boy lies there broken, the gentlest of her children, Bran who loved to climb and laugh, and she will never hear him laugh again. Sobbing, Catelyn pulls her hand free and covers her ears against those howls. Makes them stop, she screams at Robb. She can’t stand it, make them stop, make them stop, make them stop! 

Catelyn didn’t even notice how much she was shaking until Sansa, sitting next to her, squeezed her hand. She gave her oldest daughter a tiny smile of gratitude in return. How strange, she thought, to be the one being comforted by her children. She could still remember a time not long ago when it had been the other way around.

She doesn’t notice falling to the floor, and Robb is there, holding her in strong arms. He gently tells her not to be afraid, and that the wolves would never hurt him. Robb helps Catelyn to the bed in the corner of the room, and tells Catelyn to get some sleep.

Robb was looking at his mother, who was surrounded on both sides by Bran and Sansa, with wide eyes during this entire paragraph. He had never seen her act the way this book was describing. Grief-stricken, panicking, struggling to breathe. How could he help her? What had happened to Robb in those few months to make him so grown up, so competent and calm?

Robb turned his head to meet Jon’s eyes, who was just as stricken by this chapter as everyone else.

They shared a helpless look and turned back to the chapter, trying to focus on Father’s steady voice.

Catelyn weeps, saying that she can’t sleep, what if he dies while she’s asleep, what if he dies…

The wolves are still howling, and Catelyn screams at Robb to close the window!

Robb goes over to the window, but pauses as he suddenly hears all the dogs barking. He is confused, saying that they’ve never done that before, when his breath catches in his throat, and he whispers “Fire,” his face pale.

The family shared a panicked look at this turn of events.

“What is happening?” Arya asked with wide eyes. Everyone ignored her question, too shocked to respond. Ned immediately kept reading to figure out what was going on. How could this situation get any worse, after all?

Catelyn’s first thought is of Bran, and she urgently asks Robb to help her move him, but Robb doesn’t hear her. He says that the library tower is on fire.

Catelyn sighs with relief. Bran is safe.  Thank the gods, she whispers, and Robb looks at her as though she is mad, and tells her to stay there as he runs out of the room to get help from the guards. Catelyn can hear panicked shouting from outside, as people are running away. She realises belatedly that the howling has stopped.

Ned’s voice faltered and stopped as his eyes fell on the next paragraph. A frown appeared on his face, but before he could speak, he was beseeched by his family to continue reading immediately.

“My apologies,” he muttered softly, clearing his throat before going back to the book.

Catelyn says another prayer of thanks, and closes the window. When she turns around, the man is in the room with her.

It felt like the entire room gasped in shock and fear. Everyone sat up higher in their seat, not taking their eyes off the book, desperate for an explanation.

He mutters slowly that she wasn’t supposed to be here – no one was supposed to be here.

Arya frowned, eyes wide. “What is he planning?” she whispered. No one heard apart from Jon, who could only offer her a confused, nervous shrug in return.

The man is small, gaunt and dirty, and Catelyn doesn’t recognise him. There is a dagger in his hand. Catelyn looks at the knife, and then at Bran, and whispers no.

Catelyn began shaking her head in denial. This could not be happening. She held her son tighter and kept her eyes glued to the book in her husband’s hands.

It’s a mercy, the man replies. He’s dead already.

No, Catelyn repeats several times, louder now. He can’t. She tries to scream for help, but the man is immediately by her side, one hand over her mouth, the other holding the dagger to her throat.

Catelyn felt frozen in place. She wanted to block her husband’s voice out, did not want to hear this, but she could not move from her seat.

Robb wanted leap to his feet in anger. How dare that man lay a hand on his mother?

Jon put a hand on his brother’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. “It hasn’t happened yet, Robb,” Jon said softly. “And we’re going to change this. We will change this. It won’t ever happen.”

Robb was still breathing heavily, but sat back in his chair. His father kept reading steadily, forcing his tone to stay calm.

His stench is overwhelming.

She reaches up and grabs the blade with both hands, pulling it away from her throat.

Sansa shut her eyes tightly, praying for this cursed chapter to be over at last. She did not like this. Unwanted pictures of this scene kept entering her head as her imagination ran wild. Grabbing a sharpened blade with her bare hands… Sansa could barely suppress a shudder.

He curses into her ear. Her fingers are slippery with blood, but she does not let go of the dagger. He covers her mouth even tighter, and she can’t breathe. Catelyn twists her head and bites down on his hand with all her strength. The man grunts in pain and lets go. She breathes in deeply and screams, and he grabs her hair, pulling her down, and then he is standing over her, shaking.

He is still holding the dagger. You weren’t supposed to be here, he repeats stupidly.

Catelyn sees a shape enter through the open door. There is a low rumble, and the man turns around just as the wolf starts to leap.

The family let out a faint sigh of relief. Their mother would be alright in this future. Even Bran, who had been burying his head in Catelyn’s chest for the past few minutes in an attempt to block all of this out, began to smile shakily.

The wolf has him under the jaw, and the man’s shriek lasts less than a second.

Bran flinched as his father read that sentence.

His blood is warm as it sprays across her.

Catelyn shuddered at that mental image, but was unimaginably grateful for the wolves’ existence in that moment. She was still shaken by what she had heard, however. The thought that all of this would happen in two months’ time was unthinkable.

The wolf is looking at her. She realises it is Bran’s wolf – of course it is.

Arya and Bran shared a shaky smile. Bran really wanted to run down to kitchens and hug his wolf, but he stayed put for now, since his father was still finishing the chapter.

Robb was just grinning, giddy with relief that the worst of this book was over. Slowly, everyone in the room started smiling.

The wolf pads closer, sniffing her and licking her to clean her of the blood, and then it turns and lies down on the bed beside Bran. Catelyn starts laughing hysterically.

That is how Robb, Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik find her, as they come bursting into the room, followed by half the guards.

Ned sent his wife a worried look, checking how she was handling all of this. She sent him a small, reassuring smile in return. Now that all of the horror of this chapter was over, she was still in shock, of course, but mostly she was concerned with her son’s welfare and discovering the identity of the man who would attack her in this future.

“Continue reading, my love,” she told Ned softly. She needed to know more about this.

Once her laughter has died, she is wrapped in blankets and brought up to the keep, to her chambers. Old Nan helps her into a hot bath.

Maester Luwin comes later to dress her wounds. The cuts in her fingers are very deep, and her scalp hurts from when the man had torn out some hair, and Maester Luwin gives her milk of the poppy to help her sleep.

She wakes up again four days later.

“Four days?” Sansa breathed, sending her mother a concerned glance. She must have been very ill indeed to have slept for four days straight.

It all feels like a terrible nightmare, everything after Bran’s fall, but the pain in her hands reminds her that it was real. She feels weak, but strangely as though a great weight has been lifted off her.

She tells the servants to bring her bread and honey, and to tell Maester Luwin to change her bandages. The servants obey, looking surprised.

Catelyn remembers how she had been, and feels ashamed.

Catelyn felt similarly, listening to this now. It frightened her a little to think that she was capable of completely falling apart like this, to the point of neglecting her children. If something like the horror she had heard in these books were to happen now, Catelyn silently vowed never to let it come to this. She would do her utmost to stay strong and hold her family together.

She has let her children, her husband and her house down, and decides that it won’t happen again. She will show the northerners how strong a Tully can be.

Ned chuckled softly as he read this, feeling proud of his wife for pushing through this. She was incredibly strong, and he had no doubt in her ability to take charge and do what was necessary to protect Winterfell and their family.  

Robb arrives, followed by Theon Greyjoy, Rodrik Cassel, and Hallis Mollen, who, Robb explains quickly, is the new captain of the guard.

Ned nodded in approval. Hallis Mollen was a good man, and well-suited for the job. Robb had clearly made some good decisions while in charge of Winterfell.  

Catelyn asks them immediately who the man was, but apparently no one in Winterfell knows his name. With all these strangers from the king’s party filling up Winterfell as of late, he could have been anyone.

Greyjoy says that the man had been hiding in the stables, and Robb adds that they’ve found the place where he had been sleeping – there was a bag with ninety silver stags buried beneath the straw.

“Ninety silver stags?” Robb asked, staring at his father in disbelief. “Who would pay that much to…?” he couldn’t finish the sentence.

Ned could only shake his head in response. “We will find out more if we continue reading for now,” he said, turning back to the book. He would stay silent on his own thoughts and theories for now.  

Catelyn bitterly says that it’s good to know her son’s life was not sold cheaply.

Hallis Mollen is confused, and asks whether she is sure that they were out to kill her boy? Greyjoy adds that that is madness, but Catelyn is certain, and repeats that he came for Bran.

He kept muttering that she wasn’t supposed to be there, Catelyn explains. He must have set the library on fire thinking she would rush to put it out – the plan would have worked if she hadn’t been half mad with grief.

Robb asks her why anyone would want to kill Bran? He’s only a little boy, helpless, sleeping…

Catelyn gives her son a challenging look, and tells him that he must think these things through if he is going to rule the north one day. He should answer his own question: Why would anyone want to kill a sleeping child?

The family looked at each other, the same thought running through everyone’s minds. “The Lannisters,” Arya whispered.

“After what Bran saw in the tower – of course they would have a second plan,” Jon said very softly.

Before Robb can answer, the servants return with a plate of bread, honey, butter, blackberry jam, bacon, cheese, a soft-boiled egg, cheese, and mint tea. There is much more than she had asked for, and looking at all the food, Catelyn finds that she has no appetite.

Maester Luwin enters the room just after the servants, and Catelyn immediately asks him how her son is. He lowers his eyes and answers that Bran’s condition is unchanged.

That is exactly the answer Catelyn has expected. Her hands are throbbing in pain.

Sansa sent her mother a worried look. She knew that none of this had actually happened, of course she did, but either way she did not like reading about her mother in pain. She wondered vaguely how long it would take for a wound as serious as this to completely heal. Would it even be possible? Or would her mother always have scars in this future?  

She sends the servants away, and asks Robb if he has an answer yet.

Robb says that someone is afraid Bran might wake up. Afraid of what he might do or say or know.

Robb’s mother smiled at him as she heard that, and his father nodded in approval. Robb felt a strange rush of pride at his future answer, even though he had not actually done anything in real life to deserve his parents’ approval.  

Catelyn is proud of him, and tells him that the answer was very good.

She turns to the new captain of the guard, and tells him that they must keep Bran safe. When he asks her for instructions, she replies that her son is the current master of Winterfell. Robb stands a little taller, and says that one man should always be in the sickroom, another outside the door, and two at the bottom of the stairs. Robb adds that his wolf should stay in Bran’s room as well, and Catelyn agrees.

Once Hallis Mollen has left the room, Ser Rodrik asks her if she had been able to notice the dagger the killer used?

“Why is the dagger important?” Arya asked with a frown, struggling to wrap her head around everything that had happened in such quick succession.

“It’s possible that a coat of arms or some symbol has been engraved on the hilt,” Jon explained softly. “There could even be initials or a name on it.”

Arya smiled at her brother and nodded in understanding.

With a dry smile, Catelyn replies that due to the circumstances, she had not been able to examine it closely, but she can vouch for its edge.

Ned suppressed a snort of amusement as he read that. Honestly, even lying in bed, wounded, only days after an armed man had broken into her son’s room, Catelyn never lost her sharp tongue and wit. He shook his head in admiration and continued reading.  

Why does he ask?

The knife was still in the villain’s grasp, he explains. The blade is Valyrian steel, the hilt dragonbone. It is much too fine for someone like him, which means that it must have been given to him.

Ned nodded thoughtfully. He had expected something like this. It seemed the Lannisters had not spared any expense in carrying out their plan.

Catelyn nods thoughtfully and asks Robb to close the door. She tells them all that to swear that not one word of what she is about to say will leave this room. If even parts of her suspicions are true, Ned and the girls have ridden into deadly danger, and one word in the wrong ears could mean their lives.

Theon Greyjoy says that Lord Eddard is like a second father to him, and swears never to tells a soul of what he is about to hear.

Robb smiled fondly, knowing this to be true. He couldn’t help but wish for his best friend to be reading this book with them, even though he knew and understood why it had to be restricted to family.

Ser Rodrik, Maester Luwin and Robb also give her their word.

Catelyn tells the that her sister Lysa believes that the Lannisters murdered her husband, the Hand of the King. Catelyn remembers that Jaime Lannister did not join the hunt on the day that Bran fell, but remained here in the castle.

The room is deathly quiet at her words.

Catelyn says that she does not think that Bran fell from that tower. She thinks he was thrown.

The family listened intently as Catelyn in the book laid out her theory. Catelyn’s face was carefully blank. It was still too strange to hear herself think out loud like this.

It was truly impressive, Robb thought, knowing everything they have learnt by reading this book, how accurate his mother’s thoughts were.

Ser Rodrik says that this is a monstrous suggestion – even the Kingslayer would not murder an innocent child.

Theon Greyjoy disagrees with that assessment of Jaime, and Catelyn reminds Ser Rodrik that there is no end to Lannister pride or ambition. Maester Luwin is thoughtful, saying the boy was always surefooted in the past.

Bran had barely spoken during this chapter, still too shocked to take everything in, but was still listening intently, even though all this was impossibly difficult for him.

When he heard that, though, Bran smiled softly. He liked Maester Luwin.

Robb’s face is dark with anger as he draws his sword, saying that if this is true, Robb will kill him himself!

Ned’s eyes were stern in disapproval at these actions. Still, he elected not to speak, seeing what Ser Rodrik would say in the next paragraph. Not to mention how unfair it would be to reprimand Robb for something he had not even done yet. Taking a steady breath, Ned kept reading, silently relieved at how close this chapter was to finishing.

Ser Rodrik immediately reprimands Robb. He should put that sword away – the Lannisters are a hundred leagues from here, and Robb should never draw his sword unless he means to use it.

Embarrassed, Robb sheathes his sword, suddenly childlike again. Catelyn says to Ser Rodrik that she sees her soon is wearing steel now, and he replies that he thought it was time.

Catelyn agrees – it is past time, she says. Winterfell may have need of all its swords soon, and they should not be made of wood. Theon Greyjoy tells her solemnly that if it comes to that, his house owes hers a great debt.

Maester Luwin reminds them that all they have is conjecture. They need proof, if they are to accuse the queen’s beloved brother. She will not take this lightly.

Ser Rodrik says that the dagger is proof, and Catelyn realises that there is only one place to find the truth. Someone must go to King’s Landing.

Catelyn was frowning. She had feared that it would come to this. Knowing the small amount of information her future self had to go on, she even supported the decision and understood why it had been made. Still, against all hope, Catelyn prayed that she would not need to leave Winterfell. Perhaps there was some other way, some other option that her future self hadn’t considered?

Catelyn did not think it a wise idea to leave her three sons alone in Winterfell, especially sine only days had passed since the murder attempt.

Robb immediately offers to go himself, but Catelyn tells him determinedly that his place is here. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.

Ned nodded grimly in approval. He was glad his wife truly understood this simple fact of life. After fifteen years in the north, she had truly become a northerner, he couldn’t help thinking.

She looks at Ser Rodrik, Maester Luwin and young Greyjoy, and doesn’t know who to send. Then she realises. She struggles to push back the blankets with her heavily bandaged fingers, and climbs out of bed, saying that she’ll go herself. Maester Luwin warns her that the Lannisters would greet her with suspicion, and Robb is confused, asking about Bran. Does she mean to leave him?

Catelyn lays a hand on his arm, and says that she has done everything she can for Bran, and that as Robb reminded her himself, she has other children to think of now.

Theon remarks that she’ll need a large escort and Robb offers to send a squad of guardsmen with her, but she refuses. She would rather not have the Lannisters know she is coming. She consents to have Ser Rodrik travel with her, but she will not take the kingsroad. They will ride to White Harbour, and take a ship from there. With luck, they shall arrive in King’s Landing well before Ned and the Lannisters arrive.

And then, she thinks, they shall see what they shall see.

“This is the end of the chapter. A lot happened in this one,” Ned said, closing the book. “How are you all getting on?”

“I think we need a break,” Catelyn remarked, looking at her children. They were all clearly emotionally exhausted after this chapter, not that she was any better.

Bran nodded gratefully at that suggestion.

Arya guiltily suppressed a yawn.

“Perhaps we can meet again in the morning?” Robb suggested. “That way we will all have time to eat and sleep and think about everything we have learnt today.”

Everyone nodded, happy with that idea. After a few moments of numbly sitting, glancing at one another, the Starks began to get up one by one, in search of food and rest.

Chapter Text

Soon after sunrise the next morning, the Starks were back in the reading room. Still a bit tired, and in shock from the previous day’s revelations, they were nonetheless ready to continue learning about their potential future fates.

Catelyn had spent a few hours the day before playing with Rickon and spending time with her youngest son. She still felt a little ashamed of herself because of future Robb’s comments. She knew she loved her children wholeheartedly, but was she really doing enough to actively show them that?

Bran had barely slept at all the past night. He couldn’t stop thinking about his future self’s fate. Being pushed out of the Tower window, falling into a month-long sleep, the assassin, his mother’s courage in defending him; it was all too much to process. All this would have actually happened had his father not found this book! It was almost impossible to think about.

Sansa looked over at her little brother, who was looking uncharacteristically solemn.

“Are you alright, Bran?” she asked softly.

He looked over at her but didn’t respond. Sansa’s eyes widened slightly as she realised what must be bothering him. Smiling reassuringly, she reached over to put an arm around his shoulders in comfort.

He smiled back, but the thoughtfulness in his eyes didn’t quite disappear.

Eddard was the last person to enter the room.

He had had important business to discuss with Jory Cassel, as well as several other captains and advisors. Ned was beginning to feel as though he was neglecting his role as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North in favour of spending the past few days locked up in this room. Someday soon he would have to either work parallel to reading this book, or assign more of his work to loyal men who would be able to take over until this was finished.

Looking around the room, he smiled, seeing his family gathered together.

“Good morning,” he said warmly. The children all responded likewise, and Catelyn smiled at him in greeting.

Ned quickly took his usual seat and took out the book he had brought with him.

“Was your meeting successful, my love?” Catelyn asked softly as Ned sat down next to her.

“Yes, it was rather productive. Thank you for patiently waiting for me,” he said.

To the room at large, he asked: “Are we all ready to continue reading?”

“Yes, I think so,” Robb replied.

His siblings nodded in agreement, Bran subtly suppressing a yawn.

“Whose turn is it to read the next chapter?” Arya asked, looking around the room expectantly.

Catelyn reached out to take the book from her husband’s hands. “I believe that would be you,” she said, passing the book to her daughter with a smile.

With an excited grin, Arya took the book and started going through the pages to find the correct place.

Her eyes went wide in surprise as she read the chapter’s title. “Sansa!”

Sansa sat up in interest. This would be the first ever chapter from her perspective! What would happen? Would it be as awful as all the other chapters had been thus far?

Sansa is breaking her fast with Septa Mordane, feeding a piece of bacon to Lady under the table.

Sansa smiled, hearing that. She was grateful that Lady would be allowed to accompany her to King’s Landing. She feared she would have been terribly lonely there without her direwolf.

Septa Mordane disapproves of this, saying that a noble lady does not feed her dogs at the table, but Sansa responds that Lady’s a direwolf, not a dog, and she has her father’s permission.

Robb shot Sansa an impressed look. He always knew his sister was good at getting her way.

Ned looked at Catelyn in surprise. His eldest daughter, disregarding her septa’s opinion like that? Catelyn smiled softly in response and shrugged almost imperceptibly.  

The septa is still not pleased, saying that sometimes Sansa is as wilful as Arya

Robb barely suppressed a snort as he heard this. His sisters were more similar than they often liked to think.

and then asks where Arya is this morning.

Arya read this sentence with a very unimpressed tone to her voice. Typical, that her sister and the septa would talk about her behind her back, she supposed.

Sansa says that Arya wasn’t hungry, but thinks to herself that Arya had probably wheedled breakfast out of some kitchen boy several hours ago.

The septa tells Sansa to remind Arya to dress nicely today, as they must look their best to ride with the queen and Princess Myrcella.

Arya sighed in disappointment at that prospect. This journey to King’s Landing really didn’t sound as though it would be fun. She hoped there would at least be interesting people travelling with them that she could be friends with. Or better yet, that her father would change his mind about accepting the king’s offer. 

Sansa already looks her best, wearing her nicest blue silks, and her auburn hair is shining since she brushed it this morning.

Catelyn looked at her eldest daughter in approval. Though there were many other important things in life, as tis book had already proven, she was nonetheless proud of Sansa for knowing how to dress like a lady and take care of her appearance.

She has been looking forward to this honour of riding with the queen and princess for over a week

Sansa looked at the book in alarm. She had forgotten that her future self didn’t even know the truth of the horror that had happened to Bran! And that the queen and her brother…

Sansa didn’t want to think about it, beginning to feel a little ill.

and besides, Joffrey her betrothed might be there. Just the thought sends a flutter of excitement through Sansa, though they’re not to marry for years.

That thought gave Sansa mixed feelings. Did she truly want to marry someone whose mother… but it wasn’t his fault what his parents did, right? And she would be queen, and live happily ever after, and - but then there were the horrible things he had said about her family during one of Tyrion’s chapters…? Sansa didn’t how to feel.

Sansa doesn’t know Joffrey yet, but she’s already in love with him; he is perfect, tall, handsome, and strong, with golden hair.

Arya rolled her eyes while reading this, earning a sharp elbow nudge from Jon.

The only thing that makes her nervous about today is Arya, who

Arya swallowed before continuing.

has a way of ruining everything. Sansa can never know what Arya might do, and hopes the way Arya is dressed today won’t be too embarrassing.

Sansa sent a nervous look at her sister, who was reading these thoughts with a blank face. She opened her mouth to say something, but changed her mind and closed it again, looking down at the ground.

Sansa asks to be excused from breakfast and slides from the bench of the inn they are staying at, Lady immediately following her.

She finds Arya on the banks of the trident, trying to brush dried mud from Nymeria’s fur. The wolf is not enjoying it, and Arya is wearing the same riding clothes from yesterday and the day before. 

Ned looked at his daughter in fond exasperation. She would never change her stubborn ways, would she? Ned had long since stopped being surprised at the completely different personalities of his two daughters. He just hoped that the sisters would be able to get along better in the future.

Sansa tells her to put on something pretty because they’re travelling with the queen today. Arya says that she isn’t, because she’s going to look for rubies at the ford.

“What rubies?” Bran asked in confusion.

“They are at the trident, so they will be looking for Rhaegar’s rubies, I suspect,” Ned answered. “I doubt they will find any, but I suppose there’s no harm in looking.”

Sansa is confused, and Arya looks at her as though Sansa is stupid, clarifying that they are Rhaegar’s rubies, because this is where King Robert killed him.

The conversation quickly turns into an argument, as Sansa says that Arya can’t look for rubies since the queen is expecting both of them, but Arya doesn’t want to, because the wheelhouse doesn’t even have windows and you can’t see anything.

Sansa is getting annoyed, saying that it’s all just fields and farms and she hates riding anyway, since it just gets you dusty and sore. Arya tells her that’s not true, because she saw thirty-six new flowers when they were crossing the Neck, and Mycah even showed her a lizard-lion. The thought makes Sansa shudder.

Sansa and Arya were both very uncomfortable as their future selves started to argue. Arya was speaking faster than usual, hoping to get this scene over with as quickly as possible. She felt awkward about their parents listening to this conversation.

Sansa felt similarly. She was extremely aware of her mother’s eyes on her as they all listened to Arya read this scene out loud.

“I won’t reprimand you both for something that hasn’t happened yet and is unlikely to ever happen, considering the circumstances,” Catelyn said, her eyes serious. “However, I would like to remind you that you are sisters and I expect you, always, to treat each other with respect and patience, despite any differences in opinion. Understood?”

They both nodded, refusing to meet each other’s eyes.

Arya took a deep breath and continued reading, this time with a noticeably slower pace.

It had taken them twelve days to cross the Neck, and she had hated every second, with the damp air, and the narrow causeway, with fungus and flowers in stagnant pools of water and quicksand and snakes and lizard-lions.

Sansa felt a shiver run down her spine at that description. How awful! Why would anyone choose to live in a place like that?

None of this stopped Arya, though, who kept running around with tangled hair, muddy clothes and a bright grin, holding a bunch flowers for Father. Sansa kept hoping he would tell her to behave herself, but he never did, only thanking her with a hug. That just made it worse.

Ned suppressed a small feeling of guilt. Should he be paying more attention to Sansa? Was he treating his two daughters unequally? He hadn’t been overly aware of any jealousy before now. Was he a reason for the tense relationship between Arya and Sansa?

Arya is still talking, brushing out Nymeria’s tangles and telling Sansa about a watchtower they found last week. She shrugs off Sansa’s warnings not to leave the column. Sansa doesn’t like the way Arya is talking to all the different people they are travelling with: squires and serving girls, and old men and children. Arya can make friends with anyone, and this Mycah, a thirteen-year-old butcher’s boy, is the worst, though Arya seems to prefer his company to hers.

Nymeria has managed to escape Arya’s brush, growling, and Arya chases her wolf, shouting at her to come back.

Robb and Jon exchanged amused looks with each other as that mental image played in their heads, and tried their best not to laugh.

Sansa calmly scratches Lady behind the ears, and watches Arya chase Nymeria.

Arya frowned at that. Why wouldn’t her wolf listen to her more? She immediately decided to spend more time with Nymeria’s training as soon as they were finished with this.

She tells her sister firmly to come with her, because they can’t refuse the queen, and there’s going to be lemon cakes and tea, and why would Arya want to ride a smelly horse when she can eat cakes with the queen?

Arya casually says that she doesn’t like the queen, and that she won’t even let Arya bring Nymeria.

Sansa is shocked that Arya would say such a thing. Reasonably, she explains that the princess is afraid of wolves, but Arya calls Myrcella a baby.

Sansa truly didn’t know how to feel about this conversation. On the one hand, yes, Arya appeared to have a point about the queen, but… shouldn’t they still show respect towards the royal family? Especially the princess, who truly had nothing to do with all this? It wasn’t right to call a princess a “baby,” was it?

She is still struggling with Nymeria, which makes Sansa giggle, thinking about how animals take after their master.

Sansa still found this image funny, but she decided to suppress her giggles in light of the conversation they had just had. She didn’t feel like provoking Arya again so soon after what their mother had said to them.

Arya glares at her and walks away, saying that she’s going riding.  

Sansa calls Arya a child, and says that she and Lady will have the best time without her, but Arya shouts back that the queen won’t let her bring Lady, either, and leaves before Sansa can think of a response.

“Why would the queen not allow Lady?” Bran asked quietly. “She’s by far the best behaved one out of all of our pups! I’m sure the princess wouldn’t be frightened by her.”

“I don’t know, Bran,” Ned responded. “Perhaps the queen just wants to be absolutely safe. It’s hard to say right now.”

Alone and humiliated, Sansa is almost in tears. All she wants is for things to be nice and pretty, like in the songs. Why couldn’t Arya be more like Princess Myrcella?

Arya’s face was hard as stone while reading this. She had always known, deep down, that this was what her sister thought of her, but it still hurt a little to see it written down like this. That Sansa would prefer to have stupid Myrcella as a sister. Arya quickly pushed those thoughts down before anything could appear on her face, and continued reading.

She could never understand how two sisters could be so different. It would be easier if Arya were a bastard like Jon – she even looked like Jon. Once, when she was little, Sansa had asked her mother if perhaps there had been a mistake, and grumkins had stolen her real sister, but her mother had laughed and told her that Arya was her real sister.

Catelyn smiled softly at the memory.

She truly hoped that her two daughters would find a way to come to an understanding soon. If everything in these books really was the future that was facing them, they all needed to learn to stick together.

There was no reason for Mother to lie, so it had to be true.

In the centre of the camp, she sees a crowd by the royal wheelhouse. A squire explains to her that the council sent riders to escort them the rest of the way. Sansa sees two knights in gorgeous armour kneel before the queen.

For the first time since they had begun reading, Bran began to get a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. He loved hearing about knights. He hoped he would still get the chance to be one someday.

One knight is a strong, graceful, old man with white hair, wearing white armour and the white cloak of the Kingsguard

“That sounds like Ser Barristan Selmy,” Ned muttered under his breath.

No one heard him, as the children were all listening to Arya’s voice, fascinated by the description of actual knights.

and the other is a very handsome man near twenty with green armour, jet-black hair, and laughing green eyes. Then she notices the third stranger, standing off to the side, gaunt and grim, with hollow cheeks and an enormous greatsword. 

Sansa frowned. He didn’t sound like a knight. He sounded frightening, truthfully. Who was he? Why was he there as part of the escort?

As this third man meets her eyes, an overwhelming terror fills her suddenly. She takes a step back and bumps into Sandor Clegane. He asks if he really frightens her that much, but she cannot respond, and drops to her knees to wrap her arms around Lady. She feels eyes watching her and hears laughter.

Catelyn sent a worried look at her daughter, to see how she was handling this. She might not be able to help Sansa’s future self in this situation, but she could definitely support her now if she needed help.

Sansa was looking at the ground, blushing in embarrassment that her brothers and her mother were hearing about her fearful reaction. Why would she, a lady of Winterfell, lose her head and act like that in front of all those nobles? In front of the royal family? Was the strange man truly so extremely frightening?

The queen is telling Joffrey to go to Sansa, and then her prince is here, gallant and beautiful, telling the others to leave her alone and helping her to her feet.

Arya desperately wanted to roll her eyes at this sentence, but didn’t dare with all her family’s eyes on her, so she just quietly continued reading.

He tells Clegane to leave since he is scaring Joffrey’s betrothed. Sansa feels like a fool. She is a noble lady of Winterfell, and will be queen someday. She tries to explain that it wasn’t him, and the older man in white asks if it was Ser Ilyn Payne, saying that he does have a fearsome aspect. The queen says that he should, since the wicked should fear the King’s Justice. Sansa finally finds her voice and says that surely, Her Grace has chosen the right person, then, which makes everyone laugh.

Robb, Jon and Ned laughed at that comment, Robb shaking his head in fondness.

Catelyn reached out to Sansa and whispered: “Even as a noble lady, there is no shame in being afraid sometimes. Remember that, alright? What matters is how you deal with that fear. And you handled it perfectly in this situation, sweetling.”

Sansa smiled gratefully at her mother. She was feeling much better now.

The white knight introduces himself as Ser Barristan Selmy, and says that he is honoured to know the daughter of Eddard Stark. Sansa recognises the name and remembers her courtesies, saying that the honour is hers, and complimenting the deeds of Ser Barristan the Bold. The green knight laughs again, and smiling, asks if she can name him as well, and Joffrey warns him not speak to his betrothed like this. Sansa quickly tries to quell his anger, and correctly names the knight Lord Renly Baratheon.

“Well done,” Robb said, genuinely impressed. “Especially considering you have never met him and just based your answer on his clothing and hair colour.”

Sansa sat up a little straighter with pride. She was proud of her future self, she thought to herself. She had spent her entire life learning these things, of course, but considering her fearful reaction from before, she was surprised that she would be able to answer so quickly and accurately.

Ser Barristan makes a joke, and Sansa is finally feeling comfortable again, until she sees Ser Ilyn stand before her, unsmiling. Sansa calms her wolf who has started to growl, and apologises to Ser Ilyn for any offence she has caused, but is confused by his lack of an answer as he turns and walks away.

“Why would he not answer?” Sansa asked, frowning slightly.

Her father responded: “Ser Ilyn is mute. He has not been able to speak since Robert’s Rebellion. I’m sure we will hear a more detailed explanation once Arya continues reading.”

Joffrey explains that Aerys Targaryen had Ser Ilyn’s tongue ripped out with hot pincers, fourteen years ago.

Sansa tried not to flinch at that harsh way of explaining, and nodded in understanding.

The queen assures Sansa of his loyalty, and then smiles and tells Joffrey to entertain Sansa for the day, since she must speak with the councillors. Joffrey takes her arm, and Sansa is bursting with excitement. A whole day with her prince! The way he saved her from Ser Ilyn and the Hound was so gallant, like in the songs, and now he is touching her sleeve and asking if she wants to go riding. Sansa replies that she loves riding.

Arya’s eyes were glittering with amusement. “Sansa, didn’t we just hear you think about how horrid riding was?”

Sansa lifted her nose up and stubbornly refused to answer.

“Children,” Catelyn warned, trying not to let her own amusement shine through in her voice.

Arya ducked her head in apology, and continued reading the chapter.

They leave Sandor Clegane and Lady behind them, and set off with only Joffrey’s sword for protection. It is a glorious day - they spend hours exploring caves by the river and eat fresh trout and drink more wine than Sansa had ever been allowed to have before.

Sansa was smiling at that prospect. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad to be betrothed to the prince! He was very gallant and kind and chivalrous, after all.

As they keep riding, they suddenly hear a kind of wooden clattering.

Ned frowned in confusion. “What could that be?” he muttered under his breath. No one heard his comment.

It makes Sansa nervous, but Joffrey wants to find out what it is, so they approach slowly to see Arya and the butcher’s boy playing at knights in a clearing, using wooden sticks as swords.

Arya’s eyes shone in excitement. She would love to have someone to practice with during their travels!

As they watch, the butcher’s boy accidentally hit Arya’s hand, making her cry out.

“I do hope you’re being careful whenever you choose to practice with someone here,” Catelyn said softly. “I wouldn’t want you to be injured.”

“Yes, Mother,” Arya responded. “It doesn’t sound as if it was anything serious, anyway.”

She quickly continued reading, avoiding her mother’s eyes.

Sansa is horrified, and Arya immediately tells her to leave them alone. Joffrey asks if this is Sansa’s sister, and dismounts, asking Mycah’s name. His eyes are bright with amusement as he walks towards them, sword in hand, and tells Mycah to pick up his sword.

Arya’s eyes widened as she took in the next paragraph. “What?”

“But it’s only a stick!” Bran said. “What does he plan to do with only a stick?”

“Continue reading, Arya,” Ned said, his voice serious.

Mycah is frozen with fear, and tries to explain that Arya asked him to, and that this isn’t a sword but only a stick. Joffrey answers that it was his lady’s sister that Mycah was hitting, and presses his sword into Mycah’s face, making a drop of

Arya’s voice faltered for a moment before she caught herself and bravely read on.

A drop of blood appear there.

Sansa began to feel slightly nauseated. What did Joffrey think he was doing? Why was he…? She held her breath as her sister continued.

Arya picks up her stick and screams at Joffrey to stop it, but Sansa tells her to stay out of this. Joffrey says that he won’t hurt him… much.

Robb and Jon looked at each other with identical looks of horror on their faces.

No one said a word, listening with bated breath to Arya’s shaking voice.

Arya swings with both hands, hitting Joffrey on the back of the head, and Joffrey curses and turns around, leaving Mycah to run towards the trees. Sansa can only watch, horrified, as Joffrey and Arya start fighting.

Catelyn was watching her youngest daughter with fear in her eyes. A wooden stick against a sword? How would her daughter have any chance in this situation?

She took a deep breath and reminded herself that this was just one potential future situation. It would not happen now, because they would stop all this from ever occurring. Catelyn silently repeated those thoughts over and over again until her heart rate was back to normal.

She screams at them to stop it, they are spoiling everything! No one is listening, and Arya has lost her stick, and throws a rock but it misses and hits his horse instead.

Joffrey is wildly slashing at Arya with his sword, and Arya backs away, frightened now. Sansa doesn’t know what to do, her eyes blinded by tears.

Ned didn’t know what to think. How could this conflict possibly end well? He wanted to strangle Joffrey for slashing at his unarmed daughter with a sword, but refrained himself. There was nothing he could do now, anyway.

Suddenly Nymeria is there, jaws closing around Joffrey’s arm.

Arya’s voice was steadily gaining strength now. Bran let out a quiet, triumphant cheer.

“Thank the gods for Nymeria,” Ned said softly. “Continue reading, please, Arya.”

The prince is on the grass, shrieking in pain, and Arya sharply calls Nymeria off. Arya tells him that Nymeria didn’t hurt him… much.

Jon smiled slightly. That was his little sister. Of course, none of this should ever happen and hopefully never will, but if it ever did, Jon was relieved to know that Arya was able to stand up for herself. With Nymeria as well, of course.

She picks up his sword, holding it in both hands. Joffrey whimpers as he looks up at her, threatening to tell his mother if she hurts him. Sansa screams at her sister to leave him alone!

Arya whirls around and throws the sword into the river

Robb’s eyebrows raised. Throwing a sword into a river? After a life-threatening situation like that? That was pretty impressive.

and then runs off to her horse, Nymeria at her heels.

The room was completely silent apart from Arya’s voice.

Sansa goes over to Prince Joffrey, kneeling beside him as he moans in pain. She is sobbing, telling the poor prince not to be afraid, that she would go and bring help for him. Tenderly, she reaches out to stroke his soft blond hair, and Joffrey’s eyes snap open, his expression full of contempt and loathing. He spits at her to go, and tells her not to touch him.

“This chapter is over,” Arya said very quietly, relieved to be able to put the book down. 

Sansa was in shock, looking at the ground with a blank face.

No one knew what to say to these developments. 

“We need to continue reading immediately,” Catelyn said. “I can’t even imagine what happens now.”

“I think it’s your turn now, anyway, Mother,”  Arya said, handing the book over.

Chapter Text

“This chapter is told from your perspective, Ned,” Catelyn said, looking over the first few words.

Sensing the impatience in the room, she began reading immediately. They were all desperate to find out what would happen next.

Four days later

“Four days later?!” Robb exclaimed.

The rest of the family looked at Robb in surprise, not having expected an interruption this early.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, looking embarrassed at his outburst. “Please continue, Mother.”

Ned’s steward Vayon Poole tells him that Jory has found Arya.

Ned sighed in relief upon hearing this. Despite knowing that this was not real, he had still been unimaginably worried for his daughter’s safety.

Catelyn’s voice was noticeably less tense as she continued reading.

Ned, thanking the gods, asks for Arya to be brought to him at once. Poole replies that the guards at the gate had been Lannister men, who had immediately informed the queen,

Arya’s eyes widened in fear for her future self. What would happen to her? The queen must hate her for injuring Joffrey… Would her father be able to protect her?

so Arya is now being taken directly before the king. Ned rises quickly and strides to the door, cursing that woman. He tells Poole to find Sansa, as her voice may be needed.

Sansa’s face was serious as she listened to her mother. All of a sudden, she was not sure what she would say at the investigation.

‘Her voice may be needed…’ Would she say the truth? Would she even be able to, if she’s betrothed to Joffrey? What if he tells a different story? Sansa continued listening silently, and kept quiet about her whirling thoughts for now.

Ned walks downstairs in a fit of rage. He had barely slept an hour in the last four days, and had led many searches himself, heartsick with worry, but now fury was filling him with strength.

Arya tried to keep calm. She was sure her father was not angry with her… was he? He had understood the story when they had read it in the last chapter and not been angry then. Surely, he would also understand it if she told him everything that happened as soon as she saw him.

Ned ignores the men calling out to him, walking faster; he would have run if he weren’t the King’s Hand. He was very aware of the eyes on him, and the voices muttering about what he would do.

Ned found them in the far too small audience chamber of the castle they were staying in. It was too crowded, Ned thought. If they had been alone, he and Robert might have been able to settle this amicably.  

Ned frowned in concern at that sentence. Would he even be able to deal with this peacefully? Or would Robert be influenced by the large audience they had? Suddenly, he was slightly nervous about the outcome of this conversation.

Robert is slumped in a chair at the end of the room, looking sullen. Cersei and her son stand behind him, with Joffrey’s arm wrapped in a bandage. Arya was in the centre of the room, alone with Jory, every eye on her.

Jon sent his sister a worried look, wondering how she was dealing with all this. Even just hearing about this situation was horrible enough. He sent her a comforting smile when she looked his way, and wished there was more he could do to help her.

Ned calls her name, walking towards her, and Arya begins to sob as soon as she sees him. He kneels down and holds her. She is shaking in his arms, crying: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Catelyn’s heart ached for her daughter. How frightened she must have been, alone in the woods for four days straight, not knowing what would happen when she returned. Catelyn reached out and squeezed Arya’s hand in support as she continued reading.

Arya had tears in her eyes, but blinked hard a couple of times to try and make them go away.

Ned tells her that he knows, and thinks again how small she is. It’s hard to see how she has caused so much trouble. He asks her if she is hurt, and she says no, but she is a bit hungry, since she ate berries, but nothing else.

Her face is dirty. Ned promises her that she’ll be fed soon, and then stands to confront the king.

“What will the king do?” Bran asked nervously.

“We don’t know yet, we’ll have to read to find out,” Ned answered. “He will probably listen to Arya, Sansa and Joffrey each tell their story, and then make a decision from there.”

He looks around for friendly faces, but finds none save his own men. Facing the king, he asks loudly why his daughter was not brought to him at once.

Cersei Lannister warns him not to speak to his king in that manner, and Robert snaps at the woman to be quiet.

Robb and Jon both nodded in approval of that idea.

Robert apologises to Ned, and explains that he just wanted this business over with as quickly as possible. The queen steps forward and says that this girl and her butcher’s boy attacked her son.

“What?” Jon asked in disbelief.

That animal of hers even tried to rip Joffrey’s arm off.

“No!” Arya shouted.

“What is she saying? How dare she?” Robb said loudly.

The various protests in the room immediately quietened as Catelyn continued.

She disregards Arya’s immediate protests and continues telling her story, explaining how Arya and the butcher’s boy beat him with clubs and set her wolf on him. Arya is close to tears and Ned puts a hand on her shoulder.

Catelyn gently pulled Arya into a half hug, holding the book in her other hand, allowing her daughter to lean her head on Catelyn's shoulder.

Joffrey backs up his mother’s story and Arya calls him a liar.

The king stands and commands Arya to tell her version first, and then Joffrey, once Arya is finished. As Arya is talking, Ned sees Sansa enter with Vayon Poole, standing quietly at the back of the crowd.

Sansa was quiet the entire time she was listening to this scene unfold. Dread pooled in her stomach as she grew more and more certain of what her future self would say once it was her turn to speak.

Renly starts laughing when he hears how Joffrey had been disarmed, and has to leave the hall, mocking Joffrey as he closes the door behind him.

Robb suppressed a smile at that. He had a feeling he and Renly would get on very well if they ever had a chance to meet.

Once Joffrey is finished with his very different story, Robert, tired of all this, says that he doesn’t know whom to believe.

Ned frowned, worrying about the outcome of this. If Robert was already tired of this now, would he even care enough to come to a fair decision?

Ned calls Sansa forward. He has already heard her story and knows the truth.

The family sat up in interest. This entire thing was going to rest on Sansa’s shoulders, it seemed.

She steps forward hesitantly, looks at Arya and Joffrey with tears in her eyes seemingly ready to bolt

Catelyn’s eyes looked over the next sentence, and she hesitated before continuing to read, her heart breaking for Sansa’s impossible situation.

and says that she doesn’t know, she doesn’t remember, everything happened so fast, she didn’t see...

Arya sent Sansa a betrayed look. Sansa avoided her eyes, looking at the ground instead.

Robb sighed in disappointment.

Everyone was tense and silent as Catelyn’s voice filled the room.

Arya shrieks in anger, knocking Sansa to the ground, screaming liar, liar, liar. Ned stops them immediately, and pulls Sansa back to her feet.

Catelyn looked at Sansa in concern, but Sansa wasn’t meeting anyone’s eyes, her face blank.

She is staring at Arya, and doesn’t seem to hear his concerned questions.

Cersei says that she wants Aya punished for what she has done, but Robert quickly shuts her down. He says that Arya is a child, and children fight, and no lasting harm was done so they should leave it be. Perhaps the scars will even teach Joffrey a lesson. Robert tells Ned to discipline his daughter as he will his son, and Ned nods in relief.

A noticeably tension left the room at those words. So everything would be alright, after all.

As Robert starts to walk away, Cersei calls after him that the direwolf is still out there. What of the beast?

At that, Sansa and Arya both looked at their mother in panic. Would Nymeria be alright?

Robert stops, saying he’s forgotten the damn wolf, but Jory quickly says that they had found no trace of it. The king is not unhappy as he accepts that answer

Catelyn looked at her daughters in concern before she read the next sentence out loud.

but the queen demands a wolfskin laid across her bed before the sun goes down.

When Robert angrily reminds her that they don’t have a wolf, she replies that they do. Her eyes are glittering triumphantly as they all take a moment to comprehend her words.

“What?” Sansa whispered, dreading the answer. “She doesn’t mean Lady, does she?”

Everyone’s eyes were glued to the book in Catelyn’s hands as they waited for the answer.

Catelyn sharply inhaled before continuing. She knew exactly how much her children loved their wolves.

The king shrugs irritably, ignoring Ned’s protests, and says that Ser Ilyn will see to it. He tells Ned that a direwolf is a savage beast and he should get his girls a dog; they’d be happier for it.

Sansa’s eyes are frightened as she finally understands. She turns to Ned and says no, not Lady, Lady didn’t bite anybody, she’s good…

Tears entered Sansa’s eyes as she started shaking.

No one in the room dared to break the silence.

Arya shouts angrily that Lady wasn’t there! They should leave her alone!

Sansa starts to cry as she continues pleading and begging her father not to let them do it.

Catelyn swallowed. So, they were really going to do it? She could not even imagine the pain her child would have been going through - losing their direwolf must be unimaginable for them.

All Ned can do is take her in his arms and hold her as she weeps. He looks across the room at his old friend, closer than any brother, and asks Robert to change his mind, for the love he bears Ned, for the love he bore Ned’s sister. Please.

A tiny flicker of hope entered Sansa’s face. Maybe the king would change his mind after all?

The king looks back for a long moment and then damns his wife, voice full of loathing.

Sansa sank back into her seat, heavy with disappointment. She didn’t want to listen to this anymore.

Ned stands, disentangling himself from Sansa’s grasp as the weariness of the past four days returns to him. His voice his hard as steel as he tells Robert to at least have the courage to do it himself. Robert’s eyes are flat and dead, and he leaves the room without a word.

No one could say anything to that. By now, everyone was just eager to get this chapter over with.

Prince Joffrey is smiling as Cersei asks where the direwolf is and sends for Ilyn Payne. Ned says no, and tells Jory to take the girls back to their rooms and bring him Ice. He’ll do it himself, he says, bile rising in his throat.

"What does that mean?" Sansa asked hoarsely. "Will Father - will he -" her voice broke and she could not finish her sentence. 

Ned looked at his daughter seriously. "You must understand, Sansa. What the queen says is the law. If she decides that your Lady must die, there is no changing that."

"But I don't-"

"I will do everything in my power to keep all this from happening, alright? I promise you," Ned said. "Your wolf is safe here; this won't ever happen."

Sansa didn't respond to that.

After a few seconds of silence as everyone reflected on this, Catelyn kept reading. 

Cersei Lannister suspiciously asks if this is some trick, but Ned explains that she is of the North. She deserves better than a butcher. 

Ned nodded softly, agreeing with that decision. His stomach was still churning at the idea of killing his daughter’s innocent wolf, but if this truly had to be done, it was better that he do it himself.

He leaves the room with his daughter’s wails echoing in his ears, and finds the direwolf pup chained up outside. Ned sits beside her for a while and says Lady’s name.

Sansa was now starting to cry in earnest, and could not stop shaking her head. She truly did not want to listen to this. She did not want to listen to her father - She stopped herself before she could finish that sentence in her head. Trying her best to think positively, she resolved to go and find Lady as soon as they were finished here and give her a hug.

He hadn’t paid much attention to the pups’ names, but looking at her now, he knows that Sansa has chosen well. She was the smallest of the litter, the prettiest, the most trusting, with bright golden eyes and grey fur.

Catelyn’s voice broke slightly as she read the next sentence:

Jory brings him Ice.

When it’s over, he commands Jory to have her buried in Winterfell. The Lannister woman shall never have this skin.

On his way back, he comes across Sandor Clegane, who has the butcher’s boy, Mycah, hanging over the back of his horse. The boy had been cut almost in half from some terrible blow struck from above.

This was just one more blow of tragic injustice. No one had any words to say to this.

Ned says that they rode him down, and the Hound’s eyes glitter as he laughs and answers that the boy ran, but not very fast.

Catelyn swallowed harshly as she said: “This chapter is finished.”

She laid the book onto the table, and immediately pulled Sansa into a hug. Everyone else looked at her with sorrow in their faces.

They had all only just found their wolf pups, but had already built up such a close bond… no one wanted to imagine what it would be like to lose them now.

Clearing his throat, Ned suggested: “Let us all take a ten-minute break, alright? I believe we need it.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. Sansa gave her mother a grateful smile and immediately rose to go find Lady and give her a hug.

A few moments later, the rest of the family left as well, taking a much-needed break. 

Chapter Text

Arya hesitantly walked into the kennels. She saw Sansa kneeling on the floor, gently brushing Lady’s fur.

“Hello,” she said softly. Sansa looked up and smiled, acknowledging her appearance, and turned back to her wolf.

Arya sat down on Lady’s other side, and started petting her. A few seconds later, Nymeria appeared, nudging Arya with her nose, demanding attention. Arya giggled softly and turned around to give her wolf pup a hug.

For a few minutes, the two sisters sat silently side by side, lost in thought. Neither was brave enough to say something out loud.

Finally, Arya took a deep breath and turned to face Sansa. “I’m…” She stopped her apology midway through before speaking again. “Are you ready to go back inside?” she asked.

Sansa smiled and nodded. “Let’s go,” she said, clearing her throat.

---

The rest of the family looked up in surprise when Sansa and Arya entered the room together.

Catelyn reached out a hand to her daughters and pulled them into the empty seats next to her.

“We’re changing all of this,” she whispered fiercely.

Sansa smiled back. She nodded in determination.

“I think we should read several more chapters today. We must learn as much information as we possibly can before the king arrives,” Ned said. He was already drafting letters in his head. Letters to his bannermen, to King’s Landing, to the Night’s Watch.

“How much time do we have?” Arya asked.

“Three weeks,” Ned replied.

“May I read the next chapter?” Sansa asked. She looked around at her family’s faces, trying to draw courage from them.

Ned handed her the book with a barely noticeable smile.

She took a deep, calming breath as she found the correct page, and smiled in excitement when she saw the tile. “Bran,” she read out loud.

Jon, Robb and Arya all snuck a glance at their brother and sighed in relief. So Bran would definitely be alright.

It seems like Bran has been falling for years.

Fly , a voice whispers to him, but Bran does not know how. All he can do is fall.

Maester Luwin made a tiny boy of clay, and flung it off the roof, and Bran remembers how it shattered when it hit the ground. “But I never fall,” Bran says, falling.

Bran had chills listening to this. It was still so unimaginable – someone pushing him off the tower? He was really trying not to think too much about it, and decided to just focus on Sansa’s voice for now.

Mist is swirling around him. He can barely see the ground, far below him, but he can feel how fast he is falling. He knows what is waiting for him at the bottom. Even in dreams, you cannot fall forever. He knows he will wake up the instant he hits the ground.

The voice asks him what happens if he doesn’t.

No one dared to speak up. The whole family was listening in complete silence.

The ground is a little closer now. It is cold in this darkness. There are no stars, only the ground below him, and the mists and the voice. Bran wants to cry.  

The voice tells him not to cry. He should fly. Bran tries to answer that he can’t, but the voice says he can’t know that if he has never tried.

Sansa continued reading. Her voice was shaking slightly out of worry for her brother.

The Starks all felt distinctly uncomfortable with this… dream? Was it a dream? How was Bran expected to fly when he was falling? He had already fallen, and had landed on the ground, sleeping for months without waking up. Was this dream a message from the old gods?

Bran looks around for the source of the voice and sees a crow, following him as he falls. He asks the crow for help, but the crow says it’s trying. It asks for corn and Bran takes some out of his pocket. The bird land on his hand and starts eating.

Jon frowned. Weren’t there also crows mentioned in the chapter where Bran fell? Why would they be important? Or was this all an elaborate fever dream?

When Bran asks the bird if it is real, the crow asks back if Bran is really falling. Bran explains that it’s just a dream. He’ll wake up when he hits the ground.  

The crow says that Bran will die when he hits the ground.

Sansa sent her brother a worried glance as she continued reading. He looked so small, sitting in his wooden chair. His eyes were wide and staring straight ahead, looking at nothing.

Bran can see mountains now. He starts to cry.

The crow says that the answer is flying, not crying. How hard can it be?

Catelyn’s heart was breaking slightly listening to this. She knew it would never come to pass, but just the thought of his child going through something like this was horrific.

Sansa fought to keep her voice steady as she continued reading about Bran realising that he doesn’t have wings, and the crow’s answer that there are different kinds of wings. When she reached the part about the golden face swimming up to Bran and saying: “The things I do for love,” she had to take a deep breath to calm herself down.

Bran screams. The crow shrieks at him to forget that, put it away, he does not need it now. The golden face is gone, and Bran is falling faster than ever. Bran is afraid. The crow said it’s teaching him how to fly. Bran is flying right now, the crow says. Every flight begins with a fall. Look down.

Bran says he is afraid, but the crow screams at him to LOOK DOWN!

Bran flinched at Sansa’s raised voice. He swallowed hard to stop tears from entering his eyes. He didn’t want to cry. Not at a dream that he would probably never even have. He took in a deep, shuddering breath and actively calmed himself down. He would try and be brave like his father.

Bran looks down. The world is a tapestry of white and blue and green. He can see Winterfell, the castle walls just lines in the dirt. He can see Maester Luwin on a balcony, and his brother Robb practicing in the yard with real steel in his hand, and Hodor on his way to Mikken’s forge. He can see the godswood, and the great weirwood tree stares back at him knowingly.

Sansa continued to read about Bran looking east and seeing his mother on a ship, and then looking south and seeing his sisters and his father. When she got to the paragraph where Bran looks across the Narrow Sea and sees the free cities and the green Dothraki Sea, and Vaes Dothrak, and the fabled Jade Sea and Asshai, Jon raised his eyebrows at the mention of dragons that are stirring.

He quickly shook his head to get rid of those thoughts. Dragons were not important right now. This was about Bran.

Finally, Bran looks north and sees the Wall, and his brother Jon sleeping in a cold bed. And he looks past the Wall, past the frozen shore and the dead plains. North and north and north he looks, beyond the curtain at the end of the world. He looks into the heart of winter, and then he cries out in fear, tears on his cheeks.

Ned tilted his head in interest. What would Bran see in this dream that would make him react in that way? How many more white walkers were there beyond the wall?

The crow tells him that this is why he must live. Because winter is coming.

The family felt shivers go up their spines. Suddenly the age-old words were taking on a completely new meaning. Winter is coming.

Bran looks at the crow. It has three eyes, and the third is full of terrible knowledge.

Bran looks down once more, and sees the –

Sansa’s eyes widened at the unwelcome mental image, but she steeled herself and bravely kept reading.

bones of thousands of other dreamers impaled on the spikes of ice on the ground below.

Bran flinched slightly, and Arya and Jon shared a shocked look.

“The bones of other dreamers?” Arya whispered. So, this dream could truly kill people? What kind of danger would her brother be in in the future?

Bran is desperately afraid. He hears his own voice, far away, asking if a man can still be brave if he is afraid.  And his father replies: That is the only time a man can be brave.

Hearing Father’s comforting words again visibly helped Bran calm down. He took a deep breath to steady himself and looked at Ned for a while, a tiny smile on his face, before fixing his gaze back on the book in his sister’s hands.

The crow urges him to choose now. Fly or die.

Bran spreads his arms and flies.

The world grows small beneath him. This is better than climbing, this is better than anything.

Arya let out a tiny whoop of joy under her breath. Robb noticed and smiled fondly.

The crow flies beside him, wings flapping in his face, blinding him. Its beak stabs at him fiercely, and Bran feels a sudden pain in his forehead.

“What?” Catelyn asked sharply, but Sansa chose not to answer her question, wanting to finish the chapter as quickly as possible.

He shrieks and asks what it is doing, but the crow doesn’t respond, and he sees that the crow is really a serving woman, and he is in Winterfell, and the woman is shouting “He’s awake, he’s awake.”

Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.

“He’s awake,” Catelyn whispered, eyes shining. She pulled Bran close to her, grateful that she would never have to experience this horror herself. Reading about it happening in the future was bad enough.

Bran touches his forehead, but there is no wound. He feels dizzy. He tries to get out of bed, but nothing happens.

Something jumps onto his bed, landing on his legs, but Bran feels nothing.

Ned and Catelyn shared a look of worry. What did that mean? Would Bran be alright?

It is staring at him with yellow eyes. Is that his pup? He is so big now.

Robb bursts into the room. Bran looks up calmly and says that the wolf’s name is Summer.

“The chapter is finished,” Sansa said, feeling a little reassured at the happy ending of this chapter.

Arya, Robb and Jon took some time to stretch after sitting for so long, and smiled at each other in relief. “Bran is awake!” Arya said excitedly.

Robb laughed and nodded, just as happy about these developments as his sister. Once the happiness faded, though, there were still a lot of unanswered questions.

“What was that dream about, though?” Jon asked, frowning. “Who in all the hells was that crow? Why would it attack Bran right after saving his life?”

No one had an answer.

“Summer,” Bran said in an awed voice, clearly not having paid attention to the previous conversation. “Summer is a good name.”

Ned hid a smile at his young son’s enthusiasm. “Yes, it very much is,” he said gently.

A few moments later, Robb asked quietly: “Should we just continue straight away?”

Jon nodded. “We want to get this book done as quickly as we can, right?” He looked around the room for confirmation.

Sansa closed the book, keeping a finger in to mark the page. “Yes, I think that is a good idea,” she said. “Who would like to read now?”

“I can,” Robb offered, taking the book from his sister. “I haven’t read in a while.” 

He cleared his throat and started the next chapter.

Chapter Text

“This chapter is told from Mother’s perspective,” Robb said as he read the title.

Arya perked up. “Are you going to investigate the dagger now?” she asked, eyes shining in curiosity.

Catelyn nodded. “I think so,” she said. “Hopefully going to King’s Landing will help give us some answers.” She turned her attention to Robb as he started reading aloud.

Catelyn turns away from the ship’s rail when she hears the captain saying that they will arrive in King’s Landing within the hour.

“Already?” Sansa asked quietly. “The ship must have been very fast.”

She forces herself to smile, and says that all his oar men shall receive a silver stag as thanks.

Ned smiled at his wife’s insistence that the men be paid their share. She was always very generous to serving ladies, oar men, and other people who spent their time working for them. That was one of the things he loved most about her.

This is Captain Moreo’s fourth fastest ship, and was the fastest available when Catelyn and Ser Rodrik Cassel arrived in White Harbour. Catelyn had insisted on a galley, which was a good thing – they had needed the oars to fight against the strong winds on the way south.

Sansa nodded in realisation. This made sense – it was a very urgent trip, after all. She was glad to hear that it had worked, and her mother would make it in time.

They are so close, she thinks. Her fingers still throb in pain, serving as a constant reminder to what happened. They would never again be dexterous, but it was a small enough price to pay for Bran’s life.

Bran looked down at the reminder. He didn’t want anyone to suffer for his sake, least of all his mother.

Catelyn noticed her son’s look, and touched his shoulder gently to shake him out of it. “Remember, Bran, this will never happen,” she said softly. “Although my future self is very right – it is a small price to pay.”

Bran still wasn’t very reassured, but accepted the answer for now, not wanting to delay the reading.

Ser Rodrik appears on deck, looking much better, if a little thinner than he had been when they set out from White Harbour. He had shaved his enormous moustache off midway through the journey, since the storms and rough waves during their journey had not agreed with him.

Jon quickly suppressed a snort at that thought. It wasn’t funny, he told himself sternly, resisting the urge to meet Arya’s eyes, which he knew would have the same amusement reflected in them. Logically, Jon knew he would probably be just as miserable on a ship during a storm that lasted weeks. Still, he couldn’t quite get rid of the glint of amusement in his eyes at the mental image.

Catelyn tells him that their voyage is almost over, and Moreo leaves them alone to talk.

Catelyn says that here, they hope to reach the king’s master-at-arms and hope he can be trusted.

“Would he know the dagger?” Sansa asked. “How do we know he is the one who forged it?”

“We don’t, Sansa,” Ned replied. “But until we have further clues, he is the one who is most likely to know the answer and therefore the best option at this point in time.”

Ser Rodrik replies that he is an honest man, and he may know the blade, but the moment they leave the ship they will be at risk.

Bran, Sansa and Arya sent their mother a worried look. What would happen in King’s Landing? Would Catelyn be in danger?

There are people here who will recognise Catelyn.

“Littlefinger,” Robb and Catelyn said at the same time, laughing a little as they noticed what happened. Catelyn gave her oldest son an apologetic smile, and gestured for him to keep reading.

Catelyn tells Ser Rodrik the story of how Lord Baelish was once her father’s ward, and they grew up together in Riverrun.

Arya looked at her mother in curiosity. She didn’t think she had heard this story before.

Catelyn thought of him as a brother, but his feelings for her were… more than brotherly. He challenged her betrothed Brandon Stark to a duel

Ned briefly closed his eyes in pain at the memory of his brother. He should have expected Brandon’s name to come up during this conversation.

and barely got away with a scar, and was sent away from Riverrun. Catelyn hasn’t seen him since, though he did write her a letter after Brandon was killed, which she burned without reading, since by that time she had already known she would marry Ned.

Arya nodded in understanding. She still didn’t think she had ever heard Lord Baelish’s name before, but this made sense.

Ser Rodrik tells her that Lord Baelish is on the Small Council now,

Catelyn raised an eyebrow. “On the Small council?” she asked, not expecting an answer. She couldn’t say she was surprised. Petyr had always been ambitious, after all.

and Catelyn replies that she knew he would rise high, since he was always clever, though not very wise.

As they are talking, King’s Landing slides into view on its three hills.

Sansa’s eyes shone in excitement. Despite everything they had heard so far, she still desperately wanted to see King’s Landing herself.

The city covers the entire shore, with brick storehouses and busy streets and markets, the grand Sept of Baelor, the Dragonpit and traders from Lys, Braavos and Pentos, and the tall city wall visible in the distance.

“It sounds beautiful,” Sansa whispered.

Bran nodded, in awe of that description. Winterfell was already so big… King’s Landing sounded absolutely huge in comparison. He had always dreamed of one day being a knight in King’s Landing – maybe one day that could still be a reality.

And above it all is the Red Keep – seven huge towers with covered bridges, dungeons, and vaulted halls, all fashioned of pale red stone, and on the battlements are golden banners with the stag of House Baratheon.

Robb’s voice slowed down as he, too, was fascinated by the descriptions of the city and the castle. It must have taken ages to build all that, he thought to himself. He noticed Jon giving him a curious glance as his voice got steadily slower, so he quickly shook himself out of the trance and continued reading normally.

Ser Rodrik tells her not to enter the castle. They agree that he will go instead while she stays in a safe place. They land, and Catelyn personally gives each of the oarmen a silver stag in gratitude, as well as a copper to the two men who carry their chests halfway up Visenya’s hill to the inn Moreo had suggested.

Ned smiled once more at his wife’s clear generosity, approving of her decision to pay each man in person.  Who knew what the captain would have done with the money had he kept a hold of it himself?

Once she is settled into her rooms, Ser Rodrik promises to be back before nightfall with Ser Aron, the master-at-arms. Catelyn decides to rest for a bit, after her tiring journey, and has no trouble falling asleep.

She wakes up to a knock at the door.

Ned and Catelyn exchanged bewildered looks. Who could that be?

Catelyn was slightly on edge. She hadn’t realised it would be this short a time before someone in King’s Landing recognised her.

She takes her dagger before unlatching the door, and it surprised to find that it is a group of men of the City Watch, carrying a ribbon with a mockingbird seal.

“A mockingbird?” Arya asked loudly, frowning in confusion. “What does that mean?”

“You would know the answer if you let me read without interrupting,” Robb teased gently.

Arya bit back an annoyed retort and sat back in her chair, impatiently waiting for the answer as she continued listening to her brother’s voice.

Petyr gave them orders to bring her to him. Something must have happened to Ser Rodrik - how could Littlefinger know she is here? Ser Rodrik would never betray her… Moreo, she realises. Damn him.

Sansa gasped silently, surprised at her mother using such language.

She hopes he at least got a good price for the information.

Jon snorted softly, slightly impressed by the unexpected direction of that thought despite himself.

When she reaches the Red Keep, the guards escort her through a narrow door and up endless steps to a tower. Petyr is alone in the room, and he greets her quietly. She icily tells him that she is not accustomed to being summoned like a serving wench, and asks if he has forgotten all courtesy.

He immediately looks contrite. Catelyn notices that he hasn’t changed much since he was a child.

Catelyn’s lips curled in amusement. He really did sound the same as he had been as a child. Always getting his way with people and looking contrite and apologetic afterwards to get them to forgive him.

Petyr says that it was Lord Varys, the Master of Spies, who knew Catelyn was in the city – one of his little birds heard about it.

He asks why she is here, and Catelyn answers that a wife is allowed to yearn for her husband and a mother can want her daughters close.

Ned suppressed a smile at that response. “Not bad, my lady,” Ned said softly, eyes glinting in amusement. Catelyn smiled back.

Littlefinger laughs and says that he hopes she doesn’t expect him to believe that – he knows her too well. The Tully words are Family, Duty, Honour, all of which require her to stay in Winterfell. So, something must have happened.

Someone knocks on the door. A plump, perfumed, hairless man walks in and takes Catelyn’s hand, greeting her.

“Lord Varys,” Ned murmured, intrigued to see what would happen next. He hoped this would help Catelyn find out more about the dagger – would Vars even know anything of use?

He asks what happened to her poor hands? She pulls her hand back and graciously declines his offer of a burn salve.

Lord Varys says that he was grievously sad to her about her son, especially being so young - the gods are cruel. Catelyn says that at least they both agree on that, and Varys replies that he hopes there are more topics they can agree on than just that; for example, they both dearly love King Robert.

Ned breathed in sharply, uncertain how convincing Catelyn’s response would be, but relaxed as Robb read that Catelyn was forced to say yes. He looked at his wife with a mix of sympathy and pride at the way she was handling herself in this situation.

He offers to send for a healer for Bran.

Catelyn grew tense. She hoped her future self would not accept the offer. She trusted Littlefinger only a little, and Lord Varys not at all.

But Catelyn quickly shuts that topic down, saying that Maester Luwin is doing all he can. She will not speak of Bran with these men.

Catelyn nodded, approving of that response.

She says that Lord Baelish told her she has Lord Varys to thank for bringing her here.

He giggles and agrees. Sitting down, he asks if she might show them the dagger?

“What?!” Arya asked. Eyes wide, she looked around the room for answers, and saw the same surprise reflected in everyone’s faces.

“How could he possibly know that?” Sansa said, shocked.

Ned, trying to stay calm, said: “Well, being the Master of Spies, it is explainable. It will still be very interesting to hear how he managed to get all this information, though.”

Catelyn stares at the eunuch in disbelief. He truly is a Spider, she thinks. How could he possibly know? Immediately, she asks him what he has done to Ser Rodrik.

Ned raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t even thought of that. But his lady wife was right – there was a big possibility that something had happened to Ser Rodrik. Suddenly growing slightly nervous, he listened intently to his oldest son’s voice.

Littlefinger is confused by the conversation, and asks what dagger they are talking about.

Varys explains that Ser Rodrik came to the Red Keep earlier that say, and talked to the master-at-arms, Ser Aron, in the armoury, where they talked of a certain dagger. Afterwards, they left the castle together and came to the dreadful hovel where Catelyn is staying, waiting for her return. When she asks him how he could possibly know all this, he says that his little birds tell him everything – it is the nature of his service to know things.

Jon raised an eyebrow. This Varys person sounded dangerous. What other things did he know? What did he do with all the information he had?

She shows Littlefinger and Varys the dagger, and Littlefinger takes it, flipping it in the air and praising its balance and the Valyrian steel edge. Petyr says to Catelyn that if she wants to find the owner, she should have come to him.

The entire family sat up in their seats at that news. So Littlefinger knew about the knife’s owner!

Nobody took their eyes off Robb, eager to have this particular mystery solved.

There is only one knife like this in King’s Landing, and it belongs to him.

This doesn’t make sense to Catelyn – Petyr had not been at Winterfell.

Littlefinger says that it was his, until he lost it in a bet, at Joffrey’s name day when Loras Tyrell unhorsed Jaime Lannister in a tourney. He lost the knife to the Imp.

Catelyn’s face grew pale in shock.

Tyrion Lannister.

“Tyrion Lannister?” Ned and Jon asked at the same time.

“How?” Arya asked.

“Why? Didn’t he seem so nice the past few chapters?” Bran added, frowning.

No one seemed to know what to say.

Was Littlefinger lying? Had Tyrion been lying in all of his chapters?

After the silence had stretched on for a few moments, Robb cleared his throat.

“Should we read one more chapter before taking another break?” he suggested. “I need to see what would happen next.”

Ned nodded. “That seems like a good idea.”

Chapter Text

Jon reached out to take the book from Robb. 

“It’s my turn to read now, right?” he asked, looking around the room. 

“I think so,” Robb said.

When no one objected, Jon found the correct page and raised his eyebrows. “Oh,” he said, surprised. “This is a chapter from my perspective.”

Arya frowned. “Has this happened so far? Someone reading their own chapter?”

“No, I don’t believe so,” Ned said, turning to Jon. “If you’re comfortable with it, though, I don’t see a reason why this shouldn’t be alright.”

“I don’t mind,” Jon said quickly, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. He didn’t want to draw any more attention to himself.

He shifted in his chair to get into a comfortable position, and started reading the thoughts of his future self. He didn’t think he would ever be used to this. 

Jon and Grenn are practising sword-fighting in the yard. 

Brann perks up. “Are we going to hear about Castle Black?” he asked, excited.

Sansa nodded in response. She was herself strangely curious and interested in what it would be like.

Grenn is very big and clumsy, clearly unused to fighting. When Grenn falls into the snow, Jon knocks the sword from his hands, resulting in a scream of pain.

“Well done, Jon!” Robb said quietly.

Jon smiled, a little proud of his future self.

Ser Alliser Thorne stops them immediately, and Grenn says that the bastard broke his wrist. 

Arya’s eyes widened in disbelief. She had never broken anyone’s wrist before, but it can’t be that easy, surely? Wouldn’t Jon have noticed if he had broken that guy’s wrist?

Ser Alliser replies that he would have been dead if these swords had an edge, and sends him away.

Jon takes a moment to breathe, and is immediately mocked by Ser Alliser, who calls him “Lord Snow”, 

Jon frowned while reading that sentence, surprisingly hurt by that, but quickly tried his best to school his features into a blank expression.

and says that a longsword is not a walking cane. 

“Hey!” Arya’s voice mixed together with Bran’s in protest. “Don’t talk to him like that!” Arya added, indignantly. 

Jon hates that name. The boys had picked it up from Ser Alliser and now he hears it everywhere.

Jon says that he won, but Ser Alliser replies that Grenn, “the Aurochs,” lost, and that he can’t stand ineptitude. Jon stays silent. He has beaten everyone he has fought against, but the master-at-arms hates him all the same. 

“Why?” Robb asked quietly. He couldn’t imagine being hated by his own master-at-arms. Surely, a teacher was there to each and train and improve his students, not bully everyone around?

No one answered his question, and Jon quickly kept reading.

He walks to the armoury alone, as usual. There are almost twenty recruits here, but no one he could call a friend. None of them could fight properly; Jon despised them.

Jon’s voice was growing quieter as the paragraph went on. He couldn’t believe it. There was no one he could call a friend? None of the recruits could fight? Was this really what the Night’s Watch would be like?

He kept his eyes fixed on the book in front of him and forced himself to continue reading normally, but couldn’t get these thoughts out of his head. Why had no one warned him properly?

He starts to take his armour off, ignoring the others. He is so cold, despite the coal burning at the door. 

No one, apart from Tyrion Lannister, had told him the truth about what the Wall would be like. Jon starts to wonder if his father had known… he must have; but that thought only makes it hurt worse.

Jon glanced up at his father, but quickly looked down again. He didn’t want to confront him about this right now.

Ned saw the lingering questions in Jon’s eyes and felt a sudden rush of shame. He strengthened his resolve to fix as much of this mess as he could. He would talk to Jon soon. If there was one thing these chapters were teaching him, it was that he had handled this entire situation all wrong. He had thought he was doing the best thing for everyone, but…  Jon didn’t deserve this, Ned thought. 

Even his uncle has abandoned him. Jon had barely spent any time with Benjen since he had arrived. Now Benjen is on a mission beyond the wall. He had refused Jon when he begged to be allowed to join, since he was no ranger, and still under Ser Alliser’s command. 

Jon’s only comfort in this cold, hard place is Ghost. He misses his true brothers: little Rickon who was always begging for sweets, Robb, his best friend, and Bran, stubborn and curious. 

Robb shot a wide smile at Jon, his eyes warm. Jon smiled back. 

“I’ll miss you too, Jon!” Bran said, making Jon laugh a little, lightening the tension in the room. It helped knowing he still had his siblings on his side, despite everything that was going wrong in this chapter.

He misses the girls, too, even Sansa, who only ever calls him “half-brother.” 

Sansa looked down awkwardly. She suddenly felt a little guilty for not thinking about whether she would miss Jon or not. Was she wrong for calling him half-brother? 

And Arya… he misses her even more than Robb. She can always make Jon smile.

Arya rubbed at her eyes angrily. She wouldn’t cry, it was stupid to cry about something that was in a book, that wasn’t even real and probably would never happen. She swallowed hard to make the tears in her eyes go away and met Jon’s eyes, giving him a big smile instead. 

Why did he even have to leave? Especially now, with everything they were learning? It was stupid. 

A sullen voice interrupts his thoughts. Jon looks up to see Grenn, with three of his brute friends behind him, saying that Jon broke his wrist. 

Arya sucked in her breath, eyes wide with worry, immediately distracted from her thoughts. What would they do to Jon? 

Jon stands up and offers to break the other one too

Catelyn sighed. She could easily foresee how this confrontation would end - Jon clearly hadn’t learned how to control his temper yet.

and the situation escalates quickly. 

One of Grenn’s friends twists Jon’s arm behind his back, and says that the little lordling has a mouth on him. When he starts talking about -

Jon stared at the words in front of him. He paused for a second to calm himself down and then continued reading, trying his best to keep his voice strong and steady. 

Jon’s mother being a whore, Jon breaks free and jumps at him, both hands at his throat.

Donal Noye, the armourer, walks into the room and shouts at them to stop. 

Sansa breathed a sigh of relief that someone was stopping this. Honestly, why did everyone have to say all these aggressive things all the time? Jon was much too similar to Arya. Couldn’t they just stay quiet? 

They all obey immediately. The four boys tell him that Jon tried to kill them and broke Grenn’s wrist, but the man sends them outside to Maester Aemon, saying that the wrist is only sprained.

“Yes!” Arya said. “I knew it would just be a sprain!”

Jon shook his head in amusement at his little sister, fighting a smile. She could always cheer him up.

He stays to talk to Jon once they are gone. He says the Night’s Watch needs every man it can get, and Jon won’t win honours by killing people. Jon tells him what they said about his mother, and Noye says that words can’t make her a whore; she was what she was, and no words can change that. 

Jon read these words out loud very carefully, reflecting on what this man was saying. This sounded like what Tyrion had said a few chapters ago. He had never really thought about things this way before. 

He goes on to say that Jon didn’t have a hard life being a lord’s bastard. Some of the boys here are sons of tavern wenches, or septons, or whores.

Jon doesn’t care about them or Thorne or anything. He hates it here. It’s too cold.

The rest of the family were silent, looking at Jon uncertainly. They couldn’t even imagine… would it really be like that for Jon? 

Noye tells him to accept it the way it is, because either way, he’s stuck here for life and it’s up to him whether it’s going to be a short one or a long one. 

Jon steadily kept reading, actively not thinking about what words were written on the page in front of him. ‘Stuck here for life…’ He would have plenty of time to reflect on what all of this meant when he didn’t have the eyes of his entire family on him.

With the amount of enemies Jon is making, one of these days, one of his brothers will slit his throat in the night. Jon says they’re not his brothers - they hate him because he’s better than them. Noye tells him that he acts like he’s better than they are, and that Jon is a bully.

Robb looked up indignation. Jon, a bully?! How dare that man talk about his brother like that? He was clearly a better fighter, and those brutes from earlier were the ones who were threatening to beat Jon up, not the other way around. 

Jon was just as shocked by the use of that word… bully? He kept reading, hoping for an explanation.

Jon humiliates them every day, and all the brothers are probably afraid of him. He’s the only one who had any training by a master-at-arms growing up - most of the other recruits have never held a sword before in their life, let alone had enough money to buy one. 

Jon’s frown disappeared from his forehead. He felt a little guilty at the way he had thought of the other recruits in this chapter. 

Jon is still angry, but he starts to feel ashamed and guilty. He had never thought of it this way. 

Robb also calmed down a little after hearing this explanation. He felt a bit stupid - he had completely forgotten that the people at the Wall would have grown up without a master-at-arms. Still, he reasoned, that was no excuse for treating Jon the way they had been this chapter. Maybe Jon could help them? 

Jon leaves the armory and sees that it is almost midday. He turns to look at the Wall, filling up half the sky and glittering in the sunlight. Even after all these weeks, it still gives him shivers. Centuries old, and almost seven hundred feet high, it makes Jon dizzy when he looks up. Somehow, Jon knows that if it ever fell, the world would fall with it.

Everyone in the room had shivers listening to this description. 

Apart from Ned, none of them had ever seen the Wall for themselves. It sounded absolutely majestic. 

Jon couldn’t even imagine that feeling of looking up and seeing half the sky disappearing from view. But would that magnificent image be enough to counteract everything he had learned about the Night’s Watch since they had started reading?

Bran desperately wanted to visit one day and see it for himself. Maybe he could visit Jon one day? Or… he suddenly remembered the strange dream that had been in his last chapter. Suddenly he was a little less eager to see the Wall. He still had goosebumps at the thought of all those corpses speared by icicles. He quickly pushed that line of thinking away and focused on Jon’s voice, sine Jon had already continued with the chapter.

A voice interrupts his thoughts, and Jon whirls around to see Tyrion Lannister. 

Catelyn raised an eyebrow at another mention of the Imp. She was very curious to see how he would act, after last chapter’s revelations that it would be his knife that would almost end her son’s life.

Could Petyr’s information be trusted?

He has hardly seen him since the journey ended - as the queen’s brother, Tyrion was a guest of honour, dining at Lord Mormont’s own table and sleeping in the King’s Tower. 

Tyrion gestures at the Wall and asks why everyone wants to know what’s on the other side of a wall as soon as it’s been built. Jon says that it’s nothing special, just woods and frozen lakes.

Ned frowned. He still hadn’t forgotten the prologue of this book, and looking around at his family, he could tell that they hadn’t either.

White Walkers.

The entire realm, but especially the Night’s Watch, needed to be aware of the threat. He hoped the Lord Commander would believe him if he wrote a letter after this chapter was over. Ned would have to be very careful with his wording. 

And grumkins and snarks, Tyrion adds. What else would that big thing be for, Lord Snow?

Jon breathed in sharply at that nickname, but immediately calmed down. He needed to start taking these lessons to heart - they did make some sense, after all. If you gave a name no power over you, it wouldn’t be able to hurt you. Jon suppressed a snort at his own thought process. He sounded exactly like Lannister.

Jon tells Tyrion not to call him that, but Tyrion repeats his words from a few months ago, that Jon should take their name for him and make it his own, so that it can’t hurt him anymore. 

Arya smiled as she heard that. She liked Tyrion, she decided. As much as anyone could like a Lannister, obviously. 

She didn’t think that he would want to kill Bran anymore. That Littlefinger person must be the one who was lying.

On their way to the dining hall, Tyrion asks Jon where the wolf is, and Jon replies that he’s chained up during training and in Jon’s chambers at night. The rest of the recruits are scared of Ghost, so it’s better that he’s by himself. 

Tyrion also asks about Benjen, who was supposed to have returned on Jon’s name day, which had been two weeks ago. They were on a search looking for Ser Waymar Royce. 

“Ser Waymar Royce?” Sansa asked. “Wasn’t he the one who…?” she couldn’t finish the question. 

Catelyn nodded with a sad smile. “I hope Benjen realises that the search won’t be successful soon,” she said quietly, a  look of worry on her face for her brother-in-law. “And that they won’t go too deep into the woods in hopes of finding him.”

Ned looked at his wife as she spoke, the same worried expression reflected on his face. 

No one spoke for a bit, thinking about Benjen’s safe return.

Once they sit down at a table with their bowls of stew, Ser Alliser Thorne tells Jon that the Lord Commander wants to see him. Tyrion asks for the reason, and Ser Alliser says that it’s news from Winterfell about his half-brother. 

“Bran!” Arya said excitedly. “Or Robb?” she second-guessed herself.

“No, I think this will be news about Bran,” Robb said, eyes glinting in excitement.

The energy in the room picked up at that thought, and smiles returned to the faces. Jon was finally going to find out that Bran was going to live.

Jon immediately scrambles to his feet, breathing that something’s happened to Bran. He brushes off Tyrion’s comforting hand and starts running towards the doors. Breathless, he bursts into the Lord Commander’s rooms. 

“What does it say about Bran?” Jon asks, wild-eyed and panting. 

Lord Commander Mormont hands him a scroll as a raven flies off his arm to eat some corn. 

A shiver ran down Bran’s back at that sentence, as flashbacks about the three-eyed bird entered his mind, but he quickly shook it off, seeing the joy in everyone’s faces. He didn’t want to ruin that now, when they had had so few happy scenes in this book.

Jon looks at the text, recognises Robb’s hand, but the words seem to blur before his eyes. Jon realises he is crying. Through the tears, he finally finds the meaning in the letter and looks up, saying that Bran woke up. 

Jon read the entire paragraph with a grin. He was still so happy about those news. 

Mormont says that his brother will be crippled, offering his apologies, but Jon hardly hears him. That doesn’t matter. Nothing matters, apart from the fact that Bran is going to live. Bran is going to live. The raven repeats the words: Live! Live!

Jon runs down the stairs, smiling and tightly holding Robb’s letter, telling everyone he meets that his brother is going to live.

Everyone was smiling, genuinely happy for once. 

Bran gave Jon a small smile that Jon returned immediately. It was nice to know how much he was cared about, even if the situation was very weird.

He finds Tyrion in the hall, picks him up and spins around in a circle

The mental image made Bran and Arya giggle loudly. 

Sansa’s lips twitched in an urge to join in the laughter, but she only just managed to control herself. 

The atmosphere in the room was a lot lighter than it had been a few minutes ago, and the family was glad for the relief of tension.

whooping that his brother is going to live! Lannister looks startled and Jon gives him the letter to read. 

He turns and sees Grenn in the corner, a thick bandage around one hand. 

Robb looked at Jon in curiosity, wondering what would happen. He honestly didn’t know what he would do in this situation and was interested to hear Jon’s future thoughts. 

Jon smiles at him, apologising for the wrist and offering to show him how to defend that move. 

Ned nodded in approval at that decision.

Alliser Thorne overhears sneering that Jon will have an easier time teaching a wolf to juggle than teaching that lot how to fight. 

Jon barely suppressed a snort before reading the next sentence.

Jon responds that he’d love to see Ghost juggle. 

That comment made even Sansa laugh as she joined in with her siblings. 

Grenn sucks in his breath as shocked silence falls.

Then Tyrion stars laughing, and some of the black brothers join in. The laughter spreads until even Grenn begins to chuckle. 

Ser Alliser’s face darkens and his hand curls into a fist. He warns Jon that this was a grievous error.

“This chapter is over,” Jon said, closing the book and handing it back to his father. 

“Very good,” Ned said. He looked around the room. “I suggest we take a break for the day and continue tomorrow morning. It’s beginning to get dark, after all.”

“Good idea,” Catelyn said, clapping her hands before standing up. “Children, you may go to the hall for dinner if you wish. I believe food is about to be served.” 

Arya and Bran jumped up immediately, heading out the door. Sansa followed her siblings, also feeling pretty hungry. She looked back questioningly at her mother, who decided to accompany her. 

“I’m going to go look for Theon, and see how he is doing,” Robb said. “He must be wondering where I’ve been lately.”

Ned walked over to the desk in the corner of the room to put the book back in its safe place, and then turned back around to see Jon still standing there.

“Jon…” Ned said. He didn’t know how to finish the sentence. “I wanted to -” 

“Never mind,” Jon said quickly. “You don’t owe me an explanation, Lord Stark.” He ducked his head and turned to follow the others out into the hall.

“Wait,” Ned said. 

Jon stopped and looked back at his father.

“I will explain everything soon, Jon, I promise. I’m sorry. I know this is unfair to you. As soon as this book is finished, we’ll sit down and talk. And you can ask me anything that’s on your mind. Alright?”

Jon breathed out slowly. Just a little more patience, he told himself. “Alright.” 

He hesitated, not sure if he should say something else, but decided against it. “I’m going to go to dinner, Lord Stark.” 

Ned nodded and watched Jon leave the room, guilt rushing through him. He had only ever wanted the best for Jon, but it seemed he had failed completely in that regard. 

With a heavy heart, Ned walked over to his desk and pulled several pieces of parchment out. He had quite a few letters to write. To his bannermen, urging them to send more men to support the Night’s Watch, to the King, asking how the journey is going, and most importantly, to the Night’s Watch itself. 

It would be best to start with the most urgent business first, Ned reasoned. 

To Lord Commander Mormont, …

Oh gods, how was he going to word this? Best not to draw attention to anything conspicuous. Maybe he could tell the Lord Commander to be aware of increased danger? That his bannermen would send more recruits?

Eddard Stark set quill to parchment and began to write.

Chapter Text

The next morning, the family all reconvened at breakfast. 

Eddard was feeling tired after a fitful sleep as worries about the future plagued his mind. He had sent off his letter to the Night’s Watch last night, telling the Lord Commander to expect new recruits from his bannermen. He had also sent a message to Lord Manderly to remind him to repair his defenses at White Harbour, just to be safe. 

Still, even after considering all options for future action, Ned didn’t know what to do. Should he notify Galbart Glover, telling him to fortify Moat Cailin? In apparent times of peace such as these, that would certainly raise eyebrows among his bannermen. For now, Ned decided to hold his tongue. Hopefully, the books would reveal more information soon, and Ned was conscious to not make any rushed decisions, especially since he hadn’t even seen Robert yet.

Ned glanced at his wife beside him, eternally grateful for her love and support as she helped him and gave him advice. They would all get through this, he knew. 

And until the king arrived, the most pressing problem was that of the Night’s Watch, which he had helped a little. Perhaps after they had finished reading, he could travel to Castle Black and speak with Mormont about a reform of the Night’s Watch. Possibly a several year long contract for knights and trained fighters, to motivate them to join? Ned filed that idea away in his mind, to expand on later. First, they needed to learn more about the future that threatened if they did nothing. 

Further along the table, Robb and Theon were laughing together, talking about the girl Theon had been talking to last week. 

Theon still didn’t know what Robb was doing when he disappeared all day, but had decided to accept it for now. And at least Robb wasn’t forcing him to spend as much time with Snow anymore. 

Arya giggled as she helped Rickon with his breakfast. The three-year-old was trying and failing to eat a slice of bread, and Arya’s hands were shaking too much from laughter to help him hold the blunt butter knife.

“Rickon!” she reprimanded him, shaking her head as he gave up and tried to steal her breakfast instead. Sadly, she couldn’t hold a serious expression for long before she started laughing again, which made Rickon giggle too. 

Sansa rolled her eyes from across the table, watching her two younger siblings struggle. She suppressed a fond smile at their ridiculousness, and reached over across the table to fix the situation. 

Arya looked up in surprise, the amusement still on her lips as she met her sister’s eyes. She smiled shyly, and Sansa smiled back. Arya still wasn’t used to the nice treatment, but tried her best to make everything as normal and natural as possible. She knew that with time, she could get used to not teasing her sister as much, but for now it was still a little strange.

Bran finished his breakfast quietly, and looked around to see if everyone was finished. 

He had been outside this morning, exploring Winterfell a little more. Since reading the horrible chapter where he had fallen, Bran had been afraid to go climbing, something he had never felt before. So for now, he was staying on the ground, looking for new tunnels and secret passageways. Maybe one day he would go climbing again, but for now he was happy to run around on the ground levels. 

One by one, the members of the Stark family got up from the table and walked to the reading room. 

Jon was already there, deep in thought about the conversation he had had with his father last night. He wasn’t really happy with the answer he had gotten, but… at least he wouldn’t have to wait that much longer now. 

Jon looked up as his siblings entered the room, and smiled in greeting. 

Robb immediately sat down next to him, Arya on Jon’s other side. Bran and Sansa sat down too, anxiously looking at the door as they waited for their parents to arrive.

“What do you think will happen next?” Bran asked quietly. “In the book, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” Robb answered. “I’m excited to hear more about what King’s Landing is like, though. I’m sure Father will arrive there soon.”

Sansa nodded, perking up a little. “That will be amazing to hear about,” she said dreamily. “I can’t even imagine all those people living in the same place. It must look beautiful at night, with all the lights in all the windows.” 

Her face darkened as she remembered the queen and Joffrey. She was already a little worried about meeting them for the first time, after everything she had heard. 

Robb noticed the change in her expression and smiled comfortingly. 

Ned and Catelyn entered the room soon after, Ned already holding the book in his hand. 

“Are we all ready?” he asked once he had sat down. 

The children all nodded, looking at each other for a volunteer to begin reading aloud.

Bran cleared his throat and raised his hand shyly. “I can read for a little while, if you don’t mind,” he said.

“Go ahead,” Ned told him, handing him the book.

Once Bran had found the correct page, he smiled as he read the title. “Eddard.”

Everyone sat up in curiosity. What would happen now?

Eddard Stark arrives in King’s Landing and is immediately summoned to an urgent meeting of the small council. 

Robb lifted his head in interest, and exchanged an excited glance with Jon. He had always wondered what those meetings were like. 

When Ned walks into the meeting, in borrowed clothes since his luggage had not yet arrived, he finds four members of the council waiting for him. The eunuch Varys,

Bran stumbled over the word. Catelyn gently corrected his pronunciation, and nodded encouragingly for him to keep reading.

who Ned likes least, starts talking immediately, telling Ned how sorry he was to hear of the troubles on the road and how they all pray for Prince Joffrey’s quick recovery. 

Arya frowned. She still wasn’t quite over what had happened a few chapters ago. 

“Quick recovery,” she repeated sarcastically under her breath, earning her a warning glare from her mother. 

Ned is cool but polite in response, and turns to greet Renly, who consistently surprises Ned by how similar he looks to a young Robert Baratheon. He also begins a conversation with Littlefinger, who smiles insolently and mentions Lady Catelyn and his late brother Brandon.

Sansa shot her parents an interested look. It was a little strange, hearing so much about Uncle Brandon and Petyr Baelish in such a short space of time, after hearing almost nothing for her entire life before they had started reading. 

Before this book, she had never really thought about the life her parents had led before she and her siblings were born. It would take a little getting used to, she supposed, now that she was hearing her father’s future thoughts and conversations. 

Ned finishes this conversation quickly, since he has no patience for this game the southerners like to play, this dueling with words. He quickly greets the very old Grandmaester Pycelle as well, and sits down.

As the other men join him at the table, Ned suddenly thinks that he does not belong here. He remembers what Robert had said in the crypts about being surrounded by flatterers and fools, and wonders which of these four men are the flatterers and which the fools. He thinks he knows already.

Bran tilted his head in thought. From this short description, he didn’t think he could tell the flatterers and the fools apart. Possibly the Grandmaester was the fool? But how could you become Grandmaester without being very smart? 

Lord Baelish was definitely a flatterer, Bran decided. But Lord Renly? Varys? Bran decided to let this topic go for now, and kept reading.

Ned suggests that they wait for the king and Ser Barristan, but Renly says that the matters of the small council bore Robert to tears and he rarely joins meetings. Robert had sent an urgent message though, and Ned is shocked to see that it is a command to stage a great tourney in Ned’s honour. 

“A tourney?” Sansa repeated softly, her eyes lighting up in interest.

No one responded, as Bran quickly kept reading.

It will cost ninety thousand golden dragons, not including the food, singers, jugglers, and so on. Littlefinger tells Ned that the treasury has been empty for years, and he will have to borrow the money from the Lannisters. 

Ned is stunned to hear that the crown is six million gold pieces in debt. 

“Six million!” Ned repeated loudly. He shook his head in disbelief. “What was Robert thinking ?” he muttered, softly this time. 

Could they truly allow the Lannisters to hold this much power over the Crown? He really, urgently needed to speak with Robert once he arrived in Winterfell. 

He cancels the meeting in hopes of persuading the king to change his mind, since this tourney is not something they can afford. He stands up, nods at them all, and leaves.

Robb looked at his father in awe. He never would have been brave enough to just cancel a meeting like that! 

But then, Robb supposed, being the Hand of the King did mean that his father was allowed to cut short any meetings he wanted. 

He crosses the outer yard, still thinking about Sansa and Arya. 

Sansa met Arya’s eyes briefly, and they smiled awkwardly at each other before looking away again. 

They had both spent the last two weeks of the journey in misery, as Sansa blamed Arya and thought Nymeria should have been the one to die, and Arya was brooding over what happened to the butcher’s boy. 

Suddenly, Littlefinger appears in front of him and says that he’s going the wrong way, and that his wife is waiting for him. 

“Ooh,” Arya said loudly, sitting up in excitement. She couldn’t wait to see what her mother would tell her father about everything that had happened in Winterfell since he had left. 

She hoped her future self would be able to see her mother as well.

Hesitantly, Ned follows him, not believing him. He is growing tired of all these intrigues - his wife is in Winterfell, after all. They walk downstairs and along a deserted corridor, until they end up outside again. 

Littlefinger climbs down some rocks, warning Ned not to fall to his death as he follows. There are two horses waiting at the bottom, and they ride into the city together, until they stop in front of a brothel.

“A brothel?” Robb repeated, frowning. He and Jon exchanged a confused look.

“I assume that must be a safe place for them to meet?” Jon suggested uncertainly.

Littlefinger says that Catelyn is inside. For Ned, this is the final insult. He slams the small man back against a wall and takes out a dagger, but suddenly an urgent voice calls that Lord Baelish is telling the truth.

Ned spins around, knife in hand, to see Ser Rodrik Cassel running towards them. Ned is lost, since he had thought Ser Rodrik in Winterfell, but finally believes that Catelyn truly is inside. 

They walk into the brothel, no one paying them any mind, and enter a room. 

Catelyn cries out when she sees him, and embraces him fiercely. 

Bran, Arya, Sansa and Robb smiled brightly as they heard their parents reunite. 

Ned and Catelyn exchanged a smile.

Ned leaned over to his wife, eyes warm, and whispered: “I still maintain that it was foolish of you to travel all this way, my lady.”

“It was important,” Catelyn reminded him. If a similar situation ever appeared in this universe, she would undoubtedly make the same decision her future self had made. 

She says that she had feared he would never come. She has heard what happened with Arya and Joffrey, and asks how the girls are. 

Ned replies they are both in mourning and full of anger. He asks her what she is doing in King’s Landing, but can not bring himself to ask whether Bran

Bran’s voice broke a little as he saw that sentence, but he simply cleared his throat and steadily carried on reading.

whether Bran is dead. 

Then he sees her hands, the raw red scars and the awkward way she holds them, and he takes them in his hands to examine them.

The room was silent as everyone listened to this scene unfold.

Catelyn pulls out a dagger and tells Ned that the blade was sent to open Bran’s throat and spill his life’s blood. Ned immediately asks questions, but she hushes him and begs him to let her tell the whole story. 

When she is done, he sits down, dazed, and thinks dully that the wolf had saved Bran’s life. He remembers Jon’s words: “Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord.” And he had killed Sansa’s. For what? 

Sansa swallowed harshly at the recurring thought of her wolf dying. She couldn’t even imagine how sad her future self must be feeling.

She saw her father send her a concerned look and forced a smile onto her face to reassure him. 

Nothing had actually happened, after all.

He doesn’t know whether he is feeling guilt or fear. If the gods had sent them these wolves, he has most likely made a terrible mistake.

The children all sent Ned uncertain glances as they heard that sentence. None of them could deny the incredibly strong bond they already had with their wolf pups. As they grew up, it would probably only get stronger. But were they really sent to them by the gods?

Chills went down Bran’s spine at the thought.

Painfully, Ned forces himself to think about the dagger and the Imp. Why would Tyrion Lannister want his son, who has never done him any harm, dead? 

Littlefinger says that he probably did not act alone, and Ned replies that he can not believe the queen or the king could have been involved.

Listening to this now, Ned raised an eyebrow at his future self’s thought process.

Obviously Robert hadn’t had anything to do with it, but the queen? Ned struggled to remember why he had thought the queen to be so trustworthy before they had started reading.

But suddenly, he remembers what the king had said that cold morning when they were riding, about sending assassins after the Targaryen princess. He remembers Rhaegar’s infant son being slaughtered, and how the king had turned away. He can hear Sansa pleading, the way Lyanna had pleaded once.

Sansa shivered as she imagined her aunt Lyanna, who she had never met, pleading the way she had a few chapters ago. That image sent goosebumps onto her arms, and she closed her eyes tightly to focus on her brother’s voice instead.

Littlefinger says that the king probably didn’t know, and that he is practiced at closing his eyes to things he’d prefer not to see. Littlefinger continues, saying that an accusation against the king is treason either way, but the queen… if they can find proof and convince Robert, then perhaps…

Ned says that the dagger is proof, but Littlefinger replies that Tyrion could easily say that it was stolen from him, and how could anyone prove that he was lying?

“I don’t think it was Tyrion,” Arya said suddenly. 

Everyone turned to look at her.

“I mean,” she continued, uncharacteristically hesitant, “we’ve read a few of his chapters now. Don’t you think he would have thought about it if he’d actually done it? And he seems to really like Bran.”

“I agree,” Robb said. “I think someone’s trying to frame him.”

Jon nodded in agreement as Bran continued reading.

Littlefinger advises Ned to throw the dagger into the river and forget about it.

Ned looks at him coldly and say that he is a Stark of Winterfell, and his son and wife almost died, and if Littlefinger believes he could forget about this, he is as big a fool now than he was when he challenged Brandon to a duel. Littlefinger replies that he may be a fool, but at least he is still alive, while Brandon has been dead for fourteen years now.

Sansa gasped. Did he really just say that? She looked around the room, still shocked, and took her parents’ grim faces as confirmation.

He also says he will try to keep Ned alive for Catelyn’s sake. 

Catelyn says that Petyr has promised to help them uncover the truth about Jon Arryn’s death. Ned is not happy to hear that, but he agrees anyway. He asks about Varys - none of them know how he found out about this, but Littlefinger tells them to worry less about Varys, since he can deal with him, and more about the Lannisters.

Ned agrees that they are the bigger threat, thinking of Cersei’s quiet voice as she suggested to kill Lady, of the boy Micah, of Bran’s fall and Jon’s death, of the mad Targaryen king dying on the floor of his throne room. 

Everyone was silent as they took in how much had happened already, and the way everything seemed to be connected. 

He turns to Catelyn and tells her she must return north, to protect Bran from further danger. Catelyn asks to see the girls first, but Littlefinger and Ned agree that it is too dangerous. He will watch over the girls, she must protect their sons.

Sansa and Arya sighed simultaneously in disappointment. They knew this couldn’t have happened for many reasons, but still, they had both hoped for another scene between them and their mother in this book. 

Maybe the books would show their reunion once they all returned to Winterfell, Sansa comforted herself.

Catelyn agrees, and Ned kisses her. 

Littlefinger leaves with a snarky remark, and Ned and Catelyn both thank him for his help. Once they are alone, Ned tells Catelyn that once she arrives home, she must send word to Helman Tallhart and Galbart Glover to raise a hundred bowmen each and fortify Moat Cailin to protect the Neck against an army. She should also tell Lord Manderly to man all defenses at White Harbor, and to keep careful watch over Theon Greyjoy. If there is war, they will desperately need his father’s fleet.

Ned was nodding along to every word his future self was saying. Of course they couldn’t fortify Moat Cailin now, since the king’s party would undoubtedly notice as they rested there on their journey north, but other than that, he had already done most of those things, to be absolutely prepared. Just in case.

Catelyn repeats the word war , fear on her face, and Ned promises that it will not come to that. The Lannisters will not attack the North, since they don’t have the realm behind them. For now, Ned must go on and act as if nothing is wrong. But if he finds proof that the Lannisters murdered Jon Arryn, then he will go to the king. 

Ned adds silently that he prays the king is the man Ned thinks he is, and not the man Ned fears he has become. 

Ned was deep in thought, not at all sure that this new Robert was the man he thought he was. 

“The chapter is finished,” Bran said, looking up uncertainly. 

Ned lifted his head quickly, surprised at the interruption, and smiled reassuringly at his childrens’ concerned looks. 

“I’d be happy to read next,” he offered, holding out his hand. 

Bran handed the book over.

“Unless anyone would like to say anything to this?” No one spoke. “Alright,” Ned said, nodding, “then we’ll just continue. This chapter is from Tyrion’s perspective.”

He cleared his throat and started reading.

Tyrion tells the Lord Commander that he must leave the Night’s Watch soon, otherwise his brother Jaime will fear he has taken the black. Mormont replies that he wishes Tyrion would, since cunning men like him are needed on the Wall.

Jon nodded seriously. He genuinely liked Tyrion, judging from what they had read so far. He would definitely be better than that Alliser Thorne, or some of those other people.

Tyrion replies with a joke about dwarves, which Thorne overhears and is offended by, thinking Tyrion is mocking them. He says that Tyrion has a sharp tongue for someone who is less than half a man, and tells him to repeat his statements about the Wall with steel in his hand. Tyrion, who is currently eating, points to his fork as he says he has steel in his hand, and begins a mock duel.

Sansa let out a surprised giggle, but quickly covered her mouth, blushing. Arya met Jon’s eyes, who was also trying to hide his amusement. 

Ned raised his voice to keep reading over the sounds of his children trying not to laugh, while Catelyn shook her head fondly. 

Everyone at the table is laughing. Mormont also struggles to catch his breath, before reprimanding Tyrion not to provoke Thorne like that. Tyrion asks why Thorne is training the new recruits instead of mucking out stables, since he is obviously unsuited to the position, and Mormont replies that Thorne is an anointed knight who fought bravely at King’s Landing, though another man points out that Thorne fought on the wrong side, and only took the black to avoid Tywin putting his head on a spike. 

Ned raised his eyebrows in surprise. He hadn’t heard that story before, though it made a lot of sense. It was a shame how the system worked, Ned reflected again, sending men to the Wall as punishment, instead of the Night’s Watch being treated as an honour.

“Were all men who fought on the wrong side sent to the Wall?” Bran asked. 

“Not all of them, no. But quite a few were,” Ned replied. He quickly kept reading, not wanting to delve deeper into that topic.

They talk about the war and Tyrion’s father a little, before Tyrion holds out his cup for more wine. Bowen Marsh says that he has a great thirst for such a small man. 

Maester Aemon softly says that he thinks Tyrion is quite a large man, in fact he is a giant come amongst them, here at the end of the world. 

Sansa tilted her head in thought, trying to decide whether or not she agreed with that sentence. Tyrion did seem smart, and he hadn’t seemed evil at all in his chapters so far. Maybe he truly was a good person? After the shock she had had with Queen Cersei, Sansa didn’t want to come to a conclusion too quickly.

Arya smiled a little. She liked Maester Aemon, Arya thought.

Tyrion gently answers that he is very seldom called a giant, but Maester Aemon insists that it is nonetheless true. For once, Tyrion is lost for words, and simply nods politely, saying that Maester Aemon is too kind. The old, blind man smiles and responds that he is very seldom called kind, which makes Tyrion laugh.

Jon, Robb, Arya and Bran smiled as well, genuinely enjoying this unexpected conversation. 

Jon really wanted to meet Maester Aemon one day, he decided. 

Much later, once the others had left, Mormont offers Tyrion a chair next to the fire. He tells Tyrion he shall have three men of the Night’s Watch to accompany him on his way south, since the King’s Road can be dangerous. 

Tyrion thanks him, and asks whether Jon Snow could come with them, to see his brothers again

Jon, Robb and Bran exchanged excited looks as Bran held his breath in anticipation.

but Mormont declines

Jon sighed softly, as Bran leaned back in disappointment. He’d really been looking forward to reading about a reunion.

since all the recruits need time to forget their families and not stir up feelings of homesickness.

Robb conceded that point. Still, he knew his future self would have liked to see Jon again. 

Mormont then ask Tyrion to speak to his sister and his brother-in-law of their need here. The Night’s Watch is dying - they have less than a thousand men, and the Wall is a hundred leagues long. In case of an attack, they would only have three men for every mile of wall.

Arya looked at her father in surprise. “I didn’t know there were that few men on the wall,” she said.

“Yes, especially now that we know how important the Night’s watch still is,” Ned agreed. “I have already arranged for more trained recruits to go to the Wall, but of course that isn’t enough.”

“What will you do?” Jon asked.

“I’m not sure yet,” Ned responded thoughtfully. “I’ll have to think about it when we have more information.”

He then tells Tyrion that he sent Benjen Stark out to look for the Royce boy, since Gared ran away and was executed for it and Waymar Royce has disappeared. Now Ben Stark has also gone missing, and there is no suitable person to go after him. Soon Mormont will be seventy - he is getting too old for this, but cannot give up command, because then who will pick it up? The Night’s Watch is full of sullen boys and tired old men. There are hardly any who can read, and no one who can think, or plan, or lead . 

Everyone was silent as they listened to Mormont’s speech. It was clear how desperate he was for support. 

Jon felt a little bad for being so shocked by his last few chapters and how horrible the Wall sounded. Maybe he could still go to the Wall to help them? If they truly needed every person who could come? If these books were good for anything, at least they could help show them where to improve things in the Night’s Watch and society in general. Even though these books were shining light on a lot of subjects and giving them all so much information, Jon knew that his own prospects weren’t going to change. Once they were finished reading, Jon would still be a bastard with no real place in the world. And who knew, maybe things would improve by the time he actually joined the Night’s Watch? Still a little unsure, Jon resolved to seriously consider the option, at least. 

Tyrion realises how important this is to Mormont, and feels a little embarrassed. Mormont has spent most of his life here, and needs to feel that his life had meaning. He tells Mormont that the king shall hear of this, but doesn’t mention that Robert will most likely ignore Tyrion’s words.

“I shall tell the king as well, once he arrives here. He needs to understand the urgency,” Ned said decisively, before he continued with the next paragraph. Catelyn nodded in approval.

Mormont warns Tyrion that the long summer is coming to an end. Tyrion must make the people in King’s Landing understand. There are direwolves and mammoths in the woods, and Mormont has seen darker shapes in his dreams. Tyrion repeats “in your dreams,” and thinks about how he needs another drink.

Arya leaned forward, heart pounding in her chest. “Why isn’t he taking this seriously?” she demanded.

“Of course he doesn’t believe those stories,” Sansa told her. “Tyrion’s from the south. He doesn’t actually believe there’s any danger beyond the Wall - why would he?”

“But -” Arya protested.

“We wouldn’t believe it either if we hadn’t read about Ser Waymar Royce,” Sansa reminded her.

Arya frowned unhappily, but nodded, accepting this answer.

Mormont ignores him and says that White Walkers have been spotted by Eastwatch

Ned paused in the sentence, taking that in. At Eastwatch? So far south?

He looked at his family, who seemed just as shocked. To think that the White Walkers had already reached the Wall… 

Jon shook his head in disbelief. And this was only a few months into the future! He prayed they were not going to plan an actual attack.

and the mountain people are moving south quicker than ever before. What are they running from? Mormont asks. When winter comes, only the Night’s Watch will stand between the realm and the darkness in the north.

Bran shivered at that thought. He didn’t even want to imagine that. He reached out and held his mother’s hand tightly for comfort, suddenly very happy that this book was warning them.

Tyrion ends the conversation and says that he needs sleep, but thanks Mormont for the courtesies. Mormon repeats that Tyrion must tell his brother and the king, and make them believe. 

Tyrion walks outside, bundled thickly in his furs to protect himself from the bitter cold. He wanders around aimlessly for a while, then decides to go up on the Wall for the last time.

It is bitingly cold up here, he thinks once he has arrived. Thankfully the Wall is very thick, so he has no fear of falling, but the ice is slipperier than he would have liked. As he starts making his way along the Wall, a voice calls out for him to halt. Tyrion stops as he recognises Jon, accompanied as always by Ghost.

Jon bit his lips to hide his smile. He was strangely excited to hear about this conversation. 

Tyrion explains that he decided to come up here on a whim, and asks if Ghost will bite his hand off if he touches him. 

Robb suppressed a laugh at the thought of quiet Ghost biting anyone’s hand off for trying to stroke him. If it had been Shaggydog, he could understand the fear, but Ghost?

As he scratches Ghost behind the ear, he notices glumly that the beast will probably be taller than him soon. Jon says that he is the guard for tonight, and proudly tells Tyrion about the progress Grenn and Pyp are making in training, now that Jon is helping them - though Ghost sadly hasn’t learnt how to juggle yet.

That made them all laugh, grateful that the tension was relieved for now. 

They walk together for a while, and Tyrion says that he leaves tomorrow, and that he will stop at Winterfell on his way to King’s Landing. 

Jon says that Tyrion should tell Robb that he will become Lord Commander and keep the realm safe, so Robb might as well have Mikken melt his sword down for horseshoes, since he won’t need it anyway. 

Robb gasped in pretend shock, looking at Jon in mock betrayal, a hand on his heart.

“How could you?” he asked, making everyone laugh.

Jon rolled his eyes, grinning, and said: “It’s true, so…” He let his words dangle in the air.

Rob shook his head slowly in disbelief, a small smile on his face as his father continued reading.

Tyrion laughs and says that message would most likely get him killed.

“It truly would,” Robb joked, earning himself a playful hit on the shoulder from Jon.

“Alright, calm down,” Ned said, a glint of amusement in his eyes. Robb and Jon immediately grew quiet and looked down, a little embarrassed. 

Tyrion should also try to explain to Rickon where Jon has gone, and that he can have all of Jon’s things. Jon doesn’t know what message to send to Bran, and asks Tyrion to help him with his words, like he has helped Jon.

Jon and Bran exchanged a warm smile. Bran still couldn’t imagine what his future self must be feeling. To know you’ll never be able to walk or climb again… it must be awful. 

Listening to this conversation, Arya only grew more certain of her belief that Tyrion had nothing to do with the assassin. She could tell, looking at her family’s faces, that none of them believed Littlefinger anymore, either.

Jon offers Tyrion his hand, and says they are friends. Tyrion is oddly touched, and accepts the handshake.

Everyone smiled at that. Tyrion did genuinely seem like he cared about Jon. 

They turn to look out beyond the Wall, at the edge of the world. Tyrion can see the forest in the moonlight, running perfectly parallel to the Wall. As he stands there, Tyrion can almost believe all that talk of the Others. He suddenly finds his old jokes about grumpkins and snarks a lot less funny. 

Bran had goosebumps as Ned nodded seriously while he read that. 

It was a lot more difficult to make jokes about these monsters if you were actually standing there, staring out into the darkness beyond the Wall. 

Jon says that his uncle is out there, and hasn’t come back, and Tyrion tells him to give him time. Jon promises that he and Ghost will find Benjen if he doesn’t come back. Tyrion says that he believes him. Tyrion shivers as he silently wonders who will then find Jon. 

The room was deathly silent as they all processed that last sentence. 

Jon was staring blankly at the book, deep in thought. 

After a few seconds, Ned cleared his throat. “This chapter is finished,” he said calmly. “Should we continue reading immediately?”

No one objected to this suggestion. 

“Perhaps I should simply continue reading?” Ned said. 

Catelyn nodded in agreement. “That seems like a good idea,” she said quietly.

Ned turned to the next page and continued.

Chapter Text

Ned’s eyes softened as he read out the title of the chapter: “Arya.”

Arya sat up in anticipation, exchanging a curious glance with Jon. She wondered what this chapter was going to be like, and what her descriptions of King’s Landing would be. 

Suddenly she remembered that her future self would still be grieving the loss of her friend and of Nymeria, sobering a little.

Her father has been fighting with the council again - Arya can see it in his face when he comes to dinner. The fifty men of the guard who eat with them rise to their feet,

“Fifty?” Arya asked loudly. That many people to guard her, her sister and her father? It seemed a little ridiculous.

“Father is the King’s Hand now,” Robb said. “So it does make sense that they’d want a lot of guards for him, I suppose.”

“Well, yes, but -”

“And I’m sure all of them aren’t on guard all the time,” Jon put in. “This might just be a dinner with them, like we have in Winterfell sometimes.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Arya said, a little annoyed that she hadn’t thought of that. “Sorry. Keep reading, Father,” she mumbled.

but Father tells them to be seated, and is pleased to see they have started eating without him.

Jory and Father talk about the tourney that is planned

Ned sighed loudly as he read that part. He still couldn’t believe Robert had grown so frivolous. Six million gold dragons! He shook his head and continued with the sentence.

and Sansa begs to be allowed to go as well. Father agrees once he hears that Princess Myrcella, who is younger than them, will be there as well.

Arya says that she doesn’t care about that stupid tourney. She knows Prince Joffrey will be there, and she hates Prince Joffrey.

Sansa lifts her head and says that Arya won’t be wanted there anyway.

As she heard her father read this argument aloud, Arya started to get angry again. She opened her mouth to say something to Sansa, but was immediately stopped by her mother’s warning look and looked down, biting her teeth together.

Father is angry as he tells them that he is sick of this fighting - they are sisters, and he expects them to behave that way.

Sansa nods while Arya stares sullenly at her plate, determined not to cry.

Ned paused to look at his daughter in concern, worried how she was handling this situation with Nymeria. 

Arya was looking at her feet, careful not to betray any emotions in her face. She swallowed harshly. She wouldn’t let something that would never even happen affect her like this. 

Father stands up and excuses himself before leaving the table, and Sansa turns to share whispers with Jeyne Poole.

No one talks to Arya. She doesn’t care. She likes it that way.

Arya frowned, listening to this. She wasn’t used to the idea of not having friends, or just… having people to talk to. It must be very strange in King’s Landing without her brothers and her friends, she realised abruptly.

Arya misses her brothers.

Ned’s voice softened a bit as he read the next paragraph, and he allowed a small smile onto his face. It was good to hear the way his children truly cared about each other, even if it broke his heart a little bit to hear how miserable Arya would be in King’s Landing.

She wants to tease Bran and play with baby Rickon and have Robb smile at her.

Robb and Bran both smiled at her now, and she smiled back, looking back and forth between them both. Her heart felt a bit lighter, knowing their relationship would still be there in the future, even if she was miles and miles away.

She wants Jon to muss up her hair and call her “little sister” and finish her sentences with her.

Jon and Arya exchanged a warm look and grinned at each other.

But all of them are gone, and now she only has Sansa left, who won’t even talk to her unless Father makes her.

Sansa frowned, looking at her little sister. It wasn’t like Arya would ever talk to Sansa either, she thought, a little sulkily. This was supposed to be a two-way relationship; why should Sansa try if Arya never did?

But then she remembered their moment in the stables the day before, and she felt bad. Sansa took a deep breath, and looked at her sister again, surprised to see Arya looking back at her. Shyly, Sansa smiled at Arya a little apologetically, and Arya, barely noticeably, smiled back.

Arya misses Winterfell. She loved listening to her Father talk with his men at dinner, and meals in the Great Hall, and playing with the visiting children. Fat Tom used to call her Arya Underfoot; she likes that a lot better than Arya Horseface.

Arya hates it here, and she hates listening to the men talk and laugh around her. They had been her friends, but she knows that was a lie, because they’d stood by and let the queen kill Lady. They’d let the Hound kill Mycah and done nothing.

Everyone was silent, lost in the memories of that horrible chapter.

No one had said a word. Not even Father.

As he read this paragraph in a clear, solemn voice, Ned felt a rush of shame at his future self’s actions. Firmly, he resolved once more to never let something like this actually happen. He would stand up to Robert this time around, he promised himself.

Arya looks around at them all and feels ill.

She gets up and runs to her bedchamber, ignoring Septa Mordane’s protests and Fat Tom, who tries to run after her. She slams the door behind her and locks it so that no one can get inside, not Septa Mordane or Fat Tom or Sansa or Jory or the hound, nobody!

Once she is alone, Arya finally feels safe enough to cry.

Listening to this, Arya felt her throat choke up a little, and she swallowed hard. 

She goes to the window seat and sits there, sniffling, hating them all, and herself most of all. It was all her fault; Sansa and Jeyne both say so.

Catelyn reached out slowly to tightly grab Arya’s hand. She hated the thought of her daughter in King’s Landing alone, suffering like this, without her there to comfort her.

Arya sniffed once and squeezed her mother’s hand in thanks, laying her head on her mother’s shoulder.

Fat Tom is knocking on the door, asking if she is in there, but Arya shouts “No!” and he walks away. He is easy to fool.

Bran let out a little giggle at that, and Arya smiled a little through her own teary eyes. She was glad someone could be cheered up, even if it wasn’t her. 

Arya opens the chest by the bed and takes out Needle. Her eyes fill with tears as she thinks of Mycah again. Her fault, her fault, her fault.

A pound on the door interrupts her thinking, as Septa Mordane threatens to tells her father about this if she doesn’t open the door at once. Arya screams at her to go away, which she does. 

Arya looks out the window, Needle in hand. She wishes she could climb like Bran, so that she could run away from this horrible place.

“I’ll teach you if you like,” Bran whispered conspiratorially. Arya nodded gratefully, seriously debating whether she should actually take him up on his offer.

She’d steal some food from the kitchens and take boots and a cloak and find Nymeria by the Trident and return to Winterfell. Or maybe she could run to Jon on the Wall. She wishes Jon were here now, so she wouldn’t feel so alone.

Arya smiled at her family, grateful that they were all here now, at least, even if they couldn’t be there in this future. 

A part of her wished that her future self actually would run away from that horrible place to Winterfell or to the Wall, but she knew she would never actually leave her father and sister behind.

Maybe they could all run away together? 

She sighed hopelessly. She knew that would never be able to happen. After all, her father had accepted the position of Hand of the King already, and there was no getting out of it once you had the position. Apparently they were stuck in King’s Landing, then. 

Her father softly knocks on the door, asking if they can talk. 

She opens the door. Father is alone, looking more sad than angry. That makes Arya feel even worse. 

Father comes in, and asks her about the sword. He recognises Mikken’s work, and says that his nine-year-old daughter is being armed from his own forge without him knowing about it. He asks where she got it, but Arya bites her lip. She would not betray Jon, not even to their father.

Jon and Arya exchanged another smile. 

Father tells her that this is no toy, least of all for little girls, and that he should snap this over his knee and be done with it.

“No!” Arya interrupted immediately. She had not even seen the sword in real life, but was already attached to it. She could only imagine how she’d feel in this future, with her own, real sword, her last connection to Jon, being threatened.

She tells him that Needle wouldn’t break, and he is surprised to hear that it has a name. He tells Arya that she has a wildness in her, the “wolf blood”, which reminds him of his siblings, Brandon and Lyanna, and how it brought them both to an early grave.

Ned paused before reading the next line, swallowing harshly. The memory of his sister still hurt. It was true that Arya looked and acted a lot like Lyanna. Sometimes, looking at his daughter from afar, it was hard to believe his sister was actually gone. He shook his head to push these thoughts away, and kept reading with a steady voice.

Arya reminds him of Lyanna sometimes; they even look alike.

Arya is startled by this, since Lyanna was beautiful, which is not a thing anyone ever said of her.

Her father asks her what she was planning on doing with Needle, and if she even knows the first thing about sword fighting. 

Stick them with the pointy end, Arya replies, which makes her father laugh.

Arya tries to explain, that she was trying to learn, but…

She asked Mycah to practice with her, she tells him as she starts to cry. It was her fault, she says, shaking.

Her father’s arms are around her as she starts sobbing.

Arya’s mouth twisted as her own eyes started watering too. Catelyn noticed immediately, and pulled her in again to rest her head on her mother’s shoulder.

Everyone’s faces were solemn in this moment. 

Jon looked at his little sister across the room, his heart aching, unsure what to do to cheer her up.

He comforts her, saying she is not to blame; the fault lies with the Hound and the cruel woman he serves.

She says that she hates them all; they all lied, even Sansa. She did remember, she just lied so Joffrey would like her.

Sansa’s eyes were slowly filling with tears as well, guilt rushing through her. She hated everything about this future, but especially that she would be the one to cause this. 

Arya heard a sniffling sound from her mother’s other side and lifted her head to look at Sansa. She was honestly surprised to see tears in her sister’s eyes as well.

“Sansa,” she whispered gently. “It’s not your fault either, you know. Not really.”

Sansa shook her head. “It is, though! If I hadn’t -”

“You mean, if Joffrey hadn’t,” Arya interrupted fiercely. “Didn’t you listen to the chapter? It was Joffrey and the queen, not either of us. And this won’t ever happen now, because we know. Alright?”

Sansa nodded slowly, drying her eyes. “Alright,” she repeated softly.

Her father says that everyone lies, and that for example, he knows Nymeria didn’t run away. She explains that they had to throw rocks at her, and her father tells her that it was the right thing to do, since the queen would have killed her. 

He looks out the window for a bit, and then turns around to tell her that winter is coming. Arya was born in the long summer, she’s never known anything else, but hard times are coming - they got a first taste of them at the Trident and when Bran fell.

He tells her to remember the sigil of their House.

“The direwolf,” all five of the children whispered in unison. 

Arya sniffled and sat up a bit straighter in her mother’s arms. She would do her house proud, she thought fiercely.

When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. In winter they must protect one another; there is no time for squabbles. So if Arya must hate, she should hate those who would truly do them harm. Septa Mordane is a good woman and Sansa is Arya’s sister. They all need each other.

The room was completely silent, apart from Ned’s grave voice, as everyone took those words in.

He sounds so tired it makes Arya sad, and she says with a small voice that she doesn’t truly hate Sansa. It is only half a lie.

Eddard says that he doesn’t want to frighten her, but this is a dangerous place; it is not Winterfell. They have enemies here and can’t fight a war amongst themselves. It is time to begin growing up, and leave the willfulness and disobedience behind.

Arya promises that she will. She has never loved her father as much as in that instant. She says that she can be strong too; as strong as Robb.

Robb let out a soft laugh as he heard that line, and smiled at his his little sister. She smiled back, but immediately looked at the ground, a little embarrassed. 

Her father hands her the sword back with a smile and says that she can keep it if she promises not to stab her sister with it.

The next morning, Arya apologises to Septa Mordane.

“Very good, Arya,” Catelyn told her softly. “If, the gods forbid, something like this happens in the future, I want you to remember your father’s words. Alright?”

Arya nodded, and sat up, drying the last of her tear tracks. “Alright,” she whispered back.

Three days later, Arya is sent to the Small Hall, where a man is waiting for her.

Arya cocked her head in confusion. She looked at her father for answers, but he just kept reading with a knowing smile, not acknowledging her unspoken question.

He says “You are late, boy,” in a foreign accent. He says that he is her dancing master

Arya frowned. Would she have to take dancing lessons now, as punishment for her behaviour?

and throws her a wooden blade

She gasped in shock, putting a hand over her mouth. Arya’s eyes lit up as she looked between her parents. Would he teach her how to fight properly? She bit her lip in excitement, holding back any questions until her father had finished.

which she misses, hearing it clatter to the floor. He tells her that tomorrow she will catch it.

She holds the blade nervously with both hands, but he tells her that one hand is all that is needed. He tells her the steel must be part of her arm, and she puts it in her left hand, which he approves of, saying it will make the enemy awkward. 

The man introduces himself as Syrio Forel. He was First Sword of Braavos for nine years, so he knows these things. 

He calls her “boy” the entire time, which she objects to, but he says that it doesn’t matter: she is only a sword.

He finally approves of her grip, and tells her that she is not holding a battle axe, she is holding - 

 a needle, Arya finishes fiercely.

“A needle,” Arya whispered breathlessly, in sync with her father reading aloud. She met Jon’s eyes, grinning in excitement.

He explains that this is the Braavosi water dance, not the iron dance of Westeros. 

Arya spends hours trying to strike him, while Syrio Forel tells her what to do.

The next day their lessons continue.

Arya was still grinning brightly even as her father looked up from the book. 

“This chapter is finished,” he announced quietly. 

A pause.

“Before we go on,” Ned said, “I want to tell you something.”

All his children looked at him expectantly. 

“I know those are just words written down in a book that I might have said at some point in the future, but they are important. I stand behind that speech wholeheartedly. We are learning a lot about our future here, and I think you have all realised just how dark the coming years will be. And in these difficult times, we need to stand together as a family. I hope all of you will be able to put your squabbles and fights to the side and look to the future together, as House Stark. Because winter truly is coming.”

Arya and Sansa exchanged a glance before nodding. 

“I’ll do my best,” Arya promised earnestly. Sansa echoed the sentiment, looking uncharacteristically serious. Bran, Jon and Robb all nodded as well.

“I know you will,” Ned told his youngest daughter fondly. 

He was going to keep it a secret for now, but he had already decided to ask Ser Rodrik to give Arya some fighting lessons, as a surprise. Arya had always wanted to learn, after all, and now he knew just how important it was to her. She would take those lessons seriously, he knew. And, the gods forbid, there may come a day when they are all very glad that Arya can defend herself a little.

“What should we do now?” Sansa asked.

“Well, it’s still relatively early,” Catelyn said, looking at her husband for confirmation. “We have time for another chapter or two, I would say.”

“I think we should just keep reading, to be honest,” Robb added. “After all, we need to hurry if we want to finish before the royal party arrives.”

They all agreed with this sentiment, and Catelyn took the book from Ned’s hands to read the next chapter, which was about Daenerys learning what it was like to be married to Khal Drogo and travelling across the Dothraki Sea with the khalasar. 

Throughout the chapter, the whole family was rather quiet and sympathetic. 

Dany struggled to ride for entire days at a time, getting blisters and saddle sores, and at night she would lie there, waiting for Khal Drogo to visit her in her tent, crying herself to sleep.

Sansa especially got an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach at the thought of Daenerys being so unhappy with the Khalasar, and had to close her eyes as she tried not to imagine the very realistic future of herself and Joffrey.

Robb noticed the emotion in Sansa’s eyes, and leaned over to give her an encouraging smile.

“We’ll make sure this doesn’t happen to you,” he told her, his eyes serious.

“Thank you,” Sansa said. The feeling still didn’t go away, though. After all, even if this book could help her stay safe, that didn’t mean that this hadn’t still happened to Dany. And she might be a Targaryen, but Sansa was actually starting to truly care for the other girl’s happiness. 

Catelyn spent a while reading about Dany’s deep unhappiness.

But as the chapter went on, they all slowly noticed a change in Dany. 

One night, Daenerys had a dream about a dragon, and Viserys was not there, and the dragon was covered in her blood, and there was a fire that swallowed her, cleansing her. In the dream, Dany felt the flames, but there was no pain, and she felt strong and new and fierce. And from that day on, things were a little easier.

Catelyn’s voice was a little warmer as she read about Dany’s legs growing stronger each day, and her skin toughening, and how Dany was starting to feel like a khaleesi, surer of herself.

The family all started to smile and breathed a bit easier as Dany’s mood lifted, and the descriptions of the beautiful landscapes, rolling hills and green lands took their breath away.

One day, Dany was so enchanted by how perfect the day was, that she commanded the khalasar to stop, and galloped down a ridge, blessedly alone for the first time since her wedding. She was breathing in the smells of the grass, curling her bare toes in the soil, laughing, when she was interrupted by Viserys, who was furious that she would give orders to him and started screaming at her, holding her, his fingers digging into her skin.

Sansa gasped, wide-eyed, as she listened to her mother’s voice detailing the confrontation between the siblings.

As Catelyn read about the way Viserys was attacking Dany, the Stark siblings all looked at each other in complete shock. They couldn’t imagine being this scared of a sibling.

Having a brother like Viserys must be a waking nightmare, Arya thought.  

Dany shoves Viserys, hard, and he looks at her in shock, since she has never fought back before.The Dothraki riders arrive, and one of them, Jhogo, uses his whip to tear Viserys off Dany. 

Jon let out the breath he had been holding. Dany was a Khaleesi, after all. Jon started to get a small proud grin on his face as he listened to the way Dany commanded Viserys to walk behind the khalasar, humiliated in not being allowed to ride. 

Slowly, they could all feel the way Daenerys was finding her place as khaleesi, and as time went on she got more comfortable in her role as wife of Khal Drogo.

When Catelyn reached some of the more explicit scenes in the chapter, she looked at Bran, Arya and Sansa in concern before quickly reading on.

The chapter ended with Dany finding out that she was with child, on her fourteenth name day.

The room was silent as they processed these events. None of them knew Daenerys, but through these chapters, they had all come to care for her in their own way. 

Fourteen was very young, Catelyn thought, feeling a little protective of this girl across the Narrow Sea. Gods, she was of an age with Robb! 

But then, Catelyn supposed, there was nothing to be done about the situation. Dany was already married, and it was only commendable that she should make the best of the circumstances life had given her.

She sighed heavily, and looked up. “This chapter, is over,” she announced, looking around at her children. “One more chapter before we take a break?”

“Actually,” Robb said hesitantly,”I’m pretty hungry now. Could we maybe continue later?” 

Arya and Bran nodded in agreement. “I’m hungry too!” Bran said loudly.

“Alright,” Ned sighed. “Let us all meet back here in an hour. There is still some business I need to attend to, anyway.”

One by one, still lost in their thoughts, they all got up slowly and left the room, glad to take a break.

Chapter Text

The break was much needed for everyone. They all felt pretty drained after days of reading all these horrible things about their futures. Arya and Bran ran down the hall toward the kitchens, relieved to be free for a few hours, and Sansa looked for Rickon to see how he was doing after being left alone with his nanny for so long.

As the younger children went on their separate ways, Robb broke away from his siblings to look for Theon. They hadn’t spoken for a while, and Robb was worried that Theon felt like he was ignoring him.

Theon was out in the courtyard practicing archery when Robb found him.

He turned as Robb approached. 

“Hello,” Robb said carefully.

Theon smiled tightly. “Hello,” he answered.

“Can I join?”

“Sure.” Theon stepped aside to let Robb have access to the target.

They took turns aiming and shooting at the target in silence.

After a while, Robb turned to Theon. “Sorry if I’ve been a bit distant lately.”

“That’s alright,” Theon said neutrally. He shot Robb a sideward glance. “You’re going to be Lord of Winterfell, I understand if you need to spend time learning things from your father.”

“Yes,” Robb said hesitantly. He could feel the words on the tip of his tongue, but he pushed them down. His father had made him promise not to tell anyone. He gratefully took the out Theon was giving him. “Still, it must be annoying for you.”

Theon snorted, breaking the tension. “Are you worried about me, Stark?”

“No!” Robb shoved him, laughing. “You know what? Forget it.”

“Alright.” Theon raised his eyebrows in amusement.

Robb shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Come on, idiot,” he said, grabbing the bow from Theon. “Let me show you how it’s actually done.”

An hour later, Robb was feeling much better as he cheerfully said good-bye to Theon, who was heading into the village. 

Robb opened the door to the kitchens to find Arya and Bran with matching big plates, clearly on their second helpings. Robb rolled his eyes at his younger siblings and got a plate for himself too, greeting the maids with a smile.

Once everyone had eaten and was back in the room, Catelyn opened the book again.

“This is another chapter about Bran,” she said softly.

Bran took a deep breath and mentally prepared himself for some more horrible stuff, but the chapter just started with an overview of how things were going at Winterfell. 

Robb is acting as Lord, and has no time for his brothers anymore, always shut away in meetings with Maester Luwin

Robb looked down thoughtfully. This was something he was genuinely worried about… that once everything went downhill, when he would be forced to take on new responsibilities, that he’d be so overwhelmed and busy with his new duties that he wouldn’t make time to spend with his siblings anymore. He resolved once again to take more time now, so that if the worst did happen, he wouldn’t regret it later.

and Rickon spends all day playing with the wolves. Bran is bitter about still being in bed instead of running around with Rickon, even after his eighth name day has already passed.

“That’s how long we have already been gone?” Sansa asked, shaking her head in wonder.

“Apparently,” Ned answered solemnly.

Bran was silent. He could imagine it now, lying in bed on his eighth name day, unable to move, with only Robb and Rickon for company. He could well understand his future self’s anger.

Old Nan is at his bedside, and tells him a story. Bran says he likes the scary ones, and Old Nan asks him what he knows of fear; he, who was born in the long summer. Fear is for the winter, for the long night.

As Catelyn read Old Nan’s story about the Others, imitating her voice, Bran shivered slightly. The thought of the Long Night, thousands of years ago, scared him more than he could say.

In the Long Night, children are born and live and die all in darkness and white walkers move through the woods.

Arya’s eyes were big as they went more and more into detail.

Mothers killed their children so they wouldn’t starve, and huge packs of spiders, big as hounds, hunted anyone who left the safety of their homes.

The room was silent, with Catelyn’s voice echoing off the walls.

Even Jon and Robb were fascinated by the story, eagerly listening to how the hero tried to seek out the children and learn from their magic, but he and his secret army were killed by the cold, and his sword froze so hard that his blade snapped when he tried to use it.

All the children were so engaged in the story that they jumped a little when Catelyn’s tone shifted back to normal.

Maester Luwin and Hodor enter the room and tell Bran that they have visitors.

“This must be Tyrion,” Ned said quietly. He had planned to visit Winterfell after his time at the Wall, after all.

Hodor lifts Bran out of bed and carries him downstairs, where Robb is already seated in Father’s high seat. Bran can sense the anger in the hall as everyone looks at Tyrion Lannister, standing in the middle of the room. 

Tyrion turns to looks at Bran, surprised that Bran is truly still alive; he could hardly believe it when he heard.

Catelyn smiled as she read that sentence, and looked over at her son sitting next to her, happy and healthy and whole.

Tyrion asks Bran more questions about his fall, but Bran shakes his head. He never falls, never never never.

“Does Tyrion have suspicions?” Sansa said softly. “Maybe he wants to investigate what happened?”

Robb nodded. “Maybe.”

Catelyn raised her eyebrows at the next section of the chapter.

Tyrion gifts Bran a saddle design.

Arya gasped, her eyes lighting up. “So he’ll still be able to ride!”

Bran smiled too. This was really nice of Tyrion Lannister to do, he thought to himself. Bran was actually looking forward to meeting him once the royal party arrived.

Robb is confused, and asks why Tyrion would want to help Bran. Tyrion answers that Jon asked it of him, and that he has a soft spot in his heart for cripples, bastards and broken things.

Jon chuckled softly, remembering the scene from a few chapters ago. He liked Tyrion, he decided once more. 

Tyrion leaves to sleep in the tavern in the winter town after being threatened by the direwolves, which Robb apologises for.  Bran goes back to his room and has a dream about the climb, and gargoyles whispering to each other, and Bran wakes up saying “I didn’t hear, I didn’t hear.”

Bran looked down at the ground, not wanting to be reminded of that time earlier in the book. They were, of course, very lucky to have the book to give them information, but he still wished he had never had to read that chapter. 

Catelyn continued reading, now at a scene about Yoren telling Robb about Benjen Stark’s disappearance. Everyone looked down sadly at future Robb’s heartbroken reaction as he screamed that his uncle was not dead. 

Ned frowned. “I wonder what will happen to Benjen,” he said, concern in his voice. 

“It must have something to do with those… Others beyond the wall,” Jon said slowly. “Remember when we read the prologue? Uncle Benjen went out to see what happened to them, right?” 

“Yes,” Ned said heavily. “Well, all we can do for now is hope that my letter helped, at least a little.”

Robb and Jon both nodded, smiling, slightly reassured.

Later that night, Robb sits next to Bran’s bed, telling him that Mother will be back soon. Bran is happy to hear his brother in the hopeful voice, instead of Robb the Lord. Robb says that afterwards they can go to visit Jon with Bran’s new saddle. Bran hears Robb sob in the darkness, and he reaches out and finds his hand, twining their fingers together.

Robb met Bran’s eyes across the room and smiled sadly, a little embarrassed. It was really hard to hear how much they would all be suffering in the future, and he definitely didn’t want Bran to have to see him cry.

“The chapter is finished,” Catelyn said quietly. 

There was silence for a little bit as everyone digested the ending of that chapter.

“Should we keep reading?” Catelyn suggested. She looked around the room. “Arya?” 

Arya looked up in surprise, not expecting the attention.

“You haven’t read in a little while,” Catelyn smiled, handing her the book.

“Alright,” Arya said, taking the book from her. “This chapter is called ‘Eddard’.”

The family was quiet as Arya began reading the chapter, which started with Ned in a meeting with Grand Maester Pycelle. 

After a bit of small talk about the hot weather, Ned starts to ask about Lord Arryn.

Ned’s eyes widened in interest. He hoped his future self could find out more information about Jon’s death soon. 

Pycelle tells him about the Hand’s final days, how quickly and suddenly he had fallen ill, and how King Robert sat with him for hours, raising his spirits with takes of past adventures. Ned asks if he said any final words, and Pycelle says that he only whispered “the seed is strong” to his wife and the king.

“The seed is strong,” Ned repeated. What could that mean?

Bran and Sansa looked at each other, confused. The seed is strong? Did Lord Arryn mean their cousin Robert? They had never met him, but had heard a bit about him from their mother. 

It was a weird way to phrase a blessing, though, Sansa thought to herself.

Ned asks if the death seemed unnatural in any way, but the Grand Maester says it was no less natural than any other case; just a sudden and unpredictable illness. Ned quietly suggests poison, and Pycelle is visibly uncomfortable, saying that he can’t believe anyone would do that.

Jon raised an eyebrow in disbelief, but said nothing.

After the conversation, Ned walks through the Red Keep and sees Arya balancing on one leg, her arms windmilling about.

Arya’s voice got audibly more excited as she reached this part of the chapter. She was really looking forward to hearing how her training was going. Standing on one toe for hours sounded difficult, but she knew she could do it. In fact, Arya resolved to try it this evening before bed.

Sansa rolled her eyes at the description of Arya’s task, but hid a fond smile. Slowly, she found herself starting to respect Arya’s passion for learning all these things, even if she would never be able to understand how one could voluntarily be beaten with a stick.

Arya and Ned talk about Bran, and how happy they are to hear that he is alive. Arya asks if he can still be a knight.

Bran looked up at that sentence, but looked back down quickly as the chapter continued. He wasn’t even sure now whether he really wanted to be a knight. Not after everything they had heard about the king and queen.

Ned says no, not seeing the use in lying to her, but tells her that Bran might instead raise castles or sail a ship or become the High Septon. With a sadness in his chest, he silently adds that Bran will never run with his wolf or lie with a woman or have a son.

Arya asks whether she can do all those things too,

Arya read this paragraph more slowly, already seeing the answer on the page.

and Ned kisses her brow and says that instead, she will marry a high lord and rule over his castle, and her sons will be knights and lords.

Arya frowned, pouting a little. She had known, of course, that she would never be allowed to do what she wanted, but it was still hard to read about her father saying no that decisively. As if even her question was a joke that shouldn’t be taken seriously.

Arya screws up her face, and says no, that’s Sansa. She goes back to balancing, and Ned leaves her there.

Ned looked at Arya, concerned at the obvious disappointment on her face. But surely she must realise that even if she got fighting lessons, she would never be able to be a knight? Like the chapter had said; what was the use in lying to his children and getting their hopes up, if there wasn’t any realistic way to achieve those dreams? The best hope for Arya, Ned thought not without sadness, was for her future husband to be tolerant enough to allow her to keep training. Still, she was just a child. Maybe there wasn’t any harm in encouraging her now, since she would surely grow out of it in a few years?

Ned sighed and exchanged a look with his wife before turning his attention back to the book. 

The chapter goes on to describe Ned meeting Petyr Baelish, who tells him to question Lord Arryn’s servants to get more information.

Ned says that most servants left to go back to the Eyrie with Lady Arryn, but Littlefinger says that his squire, Ser Hugh of the Vale, is still in King’s Landing

Everyone listening perked up in excitement. Maybe there was a good lead for more information after all!

and Ned is pleasantly surprised and wants to send for him at once.

Littlefinger winces and gestures towards the window. At first. Ned is confused, but slowly, Petyr explains the elaborate spy system in this city: a boy sitting on the steps reports to Varys, a guardsman on the other side of the courtyard reports to the queen,

Bran and Sansa shared a shocked look. Neither of them had expected there to be so many spies in the city.

“Really?” Bran asked softly, with wide eyes. How would Lord Baelish even know those things?

and there are many more, even unknown to Petyr. King’s Landing is full of eyes. That is why he had to hide Cat in a brothel.

Catelyn raised her eyebrow, interested to finally find the reason for her unusual hiding spot. Silently, she felt a little grateful to Petyr for going those extra lengths to care for her safety. She may not have approved of his behaviour in the past, and his love for politics and intrigues have always made her uneasy, but she was still strangely happy to learn that he hadn’t forgotten their childhood friendship after all these years.

Ned doesn’t care for these intrigues, and is shocked to find just how many spies there are. He thanks Baelish for his help and says that he might have been wrong to distrust him. Baelish smiles and says that distrusting him was the wisest thing Ned’s done since he climbed off his horse.

Arya looked up to find her family’s eyes fixed on her, clearly expecting more. She grinned and said, “I’m sorry, the chapter is over.”

There was a silence as everyone processed that ending.

“What a strange thing to say,” Robb said after a while, frowning. “‘Distrusting me was the wisest thing you’ve done since you climbed off your horse?’ Why would he say that?”

Jon sighed. “Apparently, he has some untrustworthy plans too?”

“But… what kind of plans? And why would he warn Father like that?”

“I’m not sure,” Jon said hesitantly. 

There was a strange expression on Catelyn’s face too, as she tried to understand Petyr’s motives. Hadn’t she just been happy a second ago at how helpful he was?

“Maybe it was just a dramatic way for him to leave the room,” Arya suggested lightly, which made everyone laugh.

“Fair enough,” Ned smiled. Still, he told himself to spend some time thinking about this later. For now, he changed the topic.

“Would anyone like to read next?”

A little surprisingly, Sansa volunteered to read about Jon’s life at the wall, and how very slowly, he is getting used to things there. 

Jon is evidently taking Tyrion’s advice and actually helps his fellow Black Brothers in training, and starts to make friends. 

Hearing that made Robb smile. He was happy to learn that Jon wasn’t too unhappy at the Wall, considering how horrible his first weeks there had been. 

He even befriends the new recruit Sam, who is very fat and craven, which he is mocked for.

Sansa smiled softly as the chapter went on to describe Sam and Jon on guard duty on top of the wall, bonding about their childhoods.

Jon tells Sam the story of how they found the wolf pups, which seems like a thousand years ago now.

Bran grinned excitedly at the reminder of the wolf pups in the kennels, but sobered up quickly when he saw the serious expressions on his family’s faces, as they reflected on just how much would change in such a short amount of time.

He also talks about his recurring dreams about Winterfell, about himself walking down the empty halls, looking for his father or Robb or Arya, going down to the crypts, and how it gets darker and darker until he wants to scream, and then he always wakes up.

Jon frowned in concern. He hadn’t had those dreams yet, though they sounded horrible. What could they mean? Was his future self just homesick?

Sam tells Jon about his childhood, how ashamed his father was at having such a plump, soft, cowardly son. Lord Tarly had tried to no avail to turn Sam into a knight, bringing a dozen masters-at-arms to Horn’s Hill, but all they did was frighten Sam even more. 

Arya shook her head in denial. She couldn’t believe that a father would do something like that to his son.

After his second son was born, Sam’s father ignored Sam completely to devote all his time to Sam’s brother. On Sam’s fifteenth name day, his father gave him the choice to either go to the Night’s Watch or be killed in a tragic accident during the hunt the next morning.

Sansa was deeply shocked, her voice slowing down more the longer Sam’s story went on. “That’s horrible,” she breathed, once she had reached the end. Bran nodded, his eyes wide. 

Ned just smiled sadly. He had heard things about Randyll Tarly, though he had never met him in person, at least as far as he could remember. He was glad that in this future, at least, Sam would have Jon to help him and be a good friend.

Jon and Sam sit in silence for a long time.

When Jon returns to the hall, he persuades all the brothers to stop mocking Sam, and they all agree except Rast. So that night, Jon sends Ghost to leap onto Rast’s bed as he sleeps and nip his throat, just enough to draw blood. Rast leaves Sam alone after that.

Robb looked at his brother with a new admiration in his eyes. 

“Would you actually do that?” he asked softly. 

“If someone was hurting my friend? Apparently yes,” Jon answered, also a little shocked at this development.

When Sam thanks Jon, saying he’s never had a friend before, Jon tells him that they aren’t friends, but brothers. He realises that his uncle had said the truth and hopes he will see him again one day, to tell him.

Sansa took a deep breath and looked up, a small smile on her face. “This chapter is done,” she said softly.

And so the day went on. 

Robb read the next chapter, which, to everyone’s surprise, was another Eddard chapter, beginning in a council meeting planning the upcoming Hand’s Tourney.

Ned leaves the council meeting to go up to his rooms, longingly thinking of the cool days and cold nights of the North, and the comfort of Catelyn’s arms, and the sound of Robb and Jon practicing in the yard.

He spends some time reading the book Jon Arryn had read before his death, The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms, With Descriptions of Many High Lords and Noble Ladies and their Children.

Robb had to pause to take a breath at the end of that title.

“Wow,” Arya said, a little stunned. “I had no idea a book like that even existed.”

“It must be very fun to read,” Jon quipped, and Arya laughed. 

The chapter went on to describe Ned and Jory’s unsuccessful attempts to interview Lord Arryn’s remaining servants, none of which had any relevant information to offer him. 

Ser Hugh had been rude and uninformative, too arrogant to be interviewed by a mere Captain of the Guards. A serving girl who had worked for Lord Arryn was friendly at least, but could only tell him that Lord Arryn had spent a lot of time reading and had been melancholy about his son’s poor health. A potboy said the Lord Arryn had gone out riding with Stannis a lot, visiting a master armourer and a brothel together.

“A brothel?” Ned interrupted Robb’s reading incredulously. He could hardly imagine Stannis and Jon, of all people, visiting a brothel together.

Robb grinned at his father. “That’s what your future self says too, Father,” he told him, reading the next couple of lines. Ned chuckled at the coincidence, still not quite believing the story.

Ned goes to visit the armorer, Tobho Mott, and asks him if he ever made a helm for Lord Arryn. Tobho says no; Lord Arryn and Lord Baratheon did visit him, but they wanted to see a boy, not buy armour.

Ned narrowed his eyes in interest. This might finally give some answers to all this intrigue, he thought quietly.

Ned has no notion of who the boy could be, but asks to see him as well. Mott calls for Gendry, who is his apprentice and about Robb’s age. He is broad-shouldered and has blue eyes and messy black hair. He shows Ned a helm he had made himself, shaped like a bull’s head.

Jon and Robb exchanged excited looks. 

A helm like that sounded amazing to have. Maybe in the shape of a direwolf? Robb thought before continuing with the chapter.

Gendry says that Lord Arryn asked about his mother, who had worked in an alehouse and died when Gendry was little. Ned looks him in the face; the shape of his jaw, the blue eyes...  Ned thinks he can see the resemblance. 

He leaves the armourers shop, wondering what Jon Arryn had wanted with a king’s bastard, and why it had been worth his life.

“This boy Gendry is King Robert’s bastard?” Arya asked, frowning.

“Yes.” Ned said slowly, thinking hard. “But why is he so important to Jon and Stannis?”

“I suppose we’ll find out,” Catelyn said. She’d been quiet for a while now, silently listening to things developing. She was almost certain that she had a theory on what was going on, with Robert and Jon Arryn and this boy Gendry and all the intrigue surrounding the Keep, but she wanted to wait until she had more facts before she spoke.

After a short pause, Sansa asked: “One more chapter?”

Jon reached out to take the book from her and started reading about Catelyn travelling back North to Winterfell.

Bran was excited to hear about his and his mother’s reunion after having been apart for so long, and started to smile in anticipation.

Catelyn decides to stop at an inn along the way. Thankfully, no one recognises her in her hooded traveller’s cloak. While she talks to some of the other guests, Tyrion arrives with some men of the Night’s Watch.

Sansa gasped. “Tyrion?” she asked, a little scared of what might happen.

Tyrion recognises her immediately and greets her, saying he was sorry to have missed her at Winterfell. 

Robb and Arya exchanged wary looks. Their mother in the future would still believe Bran’s attack was Tyrion’s fault, after all. Robb hoped she wouldn’t do anything impulsive.

The guests and the innkeeper stare at her in awe, not having expected Lady Stark to honour them with her presence. She greets everyone she recognises, men with sigils of the Riverlands, bannermen of her father’s friends, House Whent, House Frey.

Ned successfully hid a grimace at the mention of House Frey and the ninety-year-old Lord Walder. They were important allies to have, regardless of how Ned felt about him personally.

He could already see the dawning realisation on his wife’s face, as she understood what her future self was about to do.

Once she has established their loyalty to her and House Tully, she turns to Tyrion who has watched the proceedings with amusement. She points at him and says loudly that he came as a guest into her house and there conspired to murder her seven-year-old son, and asks the men to help her bring him to Winterfell and await the king’s justice.

Catelyn took a sharp breath. To be fair to her future self, with the information that she had, it was an understandable decision to make, if a little rash and impulsive. Still, Catelyn could imagine that if what would happen to Bran ever did, she would also want the person responsible to suffer. It just so happened that Tyrion was innocent, but he did look very suspicious under the circumstances. She couldn’t blame future her for acting the way she had.

A dozen swords are immediately drawn, and the amused look on Tyrion’s face disappears.

Jon thoughtfully closed the book. He didn’t even want to imagine what this development might mean for the future.

No one spoke for a little bit, not wanting to be the one to break the silence. 

“Well,” Ned finally said. “This is what this book is for, after all. To learn as much as we can so we can make better informed decisions now.”

Catelyn nodded, glancing at her husband. “None of this has actually happened yet, remember,” she said. “We have time to fix everything, now that we have more information. Whatever happens in the book, if there’s a war or anything else, we know what to do now.”

The children nodded, uncharacteristically serious. They all understood what was at stake.

“Let’s stop for today,” Ned said, standing up. “We can continue tomorrow.”

Bran and Arya sighed in relief, already feeling the urge to run outside.

As his family slowly filed out, Ned stayed behind, thinking. He needed to write out a plan with Catelyn and Maester Luwin, he decided, to map out their options for when the king came. He called for Catelyn to stay behind, and got out some parchment.