Chapter Text
The Beginning
The night that changed it all
The night was still when the door creaked open, a maester's chain clinking. He moved into the Solar of his Lord, his face resigned and his voice foreboding.
"The realm will know of this sooner or later, My Lord." The Maester then turns his gaze toward his lord, seated by the desk. His arms are cradling a tiny body, that of a toddler.
"I see that now." Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, replies. "There is no way to keep the secret buried forever now." He admits, his eyes closing in resignation.
The fire in the room seems to burn brighter then, as if in response to the admission, illumating the room. The singed clothes on the boy's body are even more visible now, which only further emphasizes the unburnt, smooth skin that should not be so.
"Fire cannot burn a Dragon." Maester Luwin murmers, "But this is the North, my Lord. That may not be enough to protect him." He states, the Maester's mind going through the various knives that would be sharpened in response to this discovery, no doubt.
'You have to protect him, Ned' Her voice whispers to Ned.
"Aye." Ned responds, his eyes growing resolute as he leans down to place a soft kiss on the clid's forehead.
"Send a raven to the Citadell, requesting for a new Maester." Ned commands, his steely grey eyes moving to the recipient of the order.
Immediately, the Maester pales, the consquences of that order dawning on him. He moves forward then, closer to the desk. "Please, my Lord. I would never betray you, or the boy." He pleads, "I have never harbored any ill towards him, nor will that change. Winterfell is my home, and the Starks are of Winterfell." He says, his voice trembling at facing the grey-like steel-, resolute eyes of his Lord.
Ned smiles in response then, his eyes shining with quiet amusement. "The new Maester will be for Castle Black, relieving Maester Aemon of his duties and ensuring the Night's Watch is served by someone strong and able bodied to deal with the rising demands that come with the Wildings' increasing activities." He says.
Maester Luwin breathes a sigh of relief at that, "Yes, of course, My Lord. It will be done." His body then turns to move to leave the room, but his Lord's voice stops him.
"In the second raven you'll be sending to Castle Black, make sure you mention that I'm requesting Maester Aemon to come reside here in Winterfell, in gratitude for his continued, loyal service to the Seven Kingdoms by serving the Night's Watch for the better part of a century." Ned mentions, his eyes moving to the boy on his lap again.
Confused, the Maester stares at his Lord. "Maester Aemon, my Lord?" He asks, unsure as to the purpose of this command.
"Aye." Ned responds, his eyes looking down at the boys face, a hand caressing his hair tenderly. "Let him know that I have a very precious gift for him." He finishes, his eyes moving from the sleeping boy to the Maester's once again. "You may leave now."
The Maester bows, before leaving the Solar.
His mind wanders to the first protector of this child, then.
'Now, it begins.' Ser Arthur Dayne had told him, his sword shining like the star it was once a part of.
"You were right, Ser." He admits, his fingers running through his Nephews hair.
'Promise me, Ned.' Her voice whispers again, her words immortalizing her in a way no tomb or crypt ever could.
"I promise." He replies to the ghostly whisper, once again. The pain now being replaced with resolutedness that comes from walking into a battle.
"Now, it begins." He says, looking down onto the child sleeping in his arms.
'You have to protect him, Ned' Her ghost whispers again.
He then thinks of his enemies, his grey eyes glinting like steel.
"And Winter comes with it."
In the distance, a Quiet Wolf howls into the night, for the first time in a long while.