Eddard I

The royal party was not spotted until they came quite close to the gates of Winterfell. Snow was no longer falling, thank the gods, but the land itself was shadowed by a dull gray blanket of cloud that let little sunlight down to Earth, even at midday. Visibility was not good at the best of times. Rousing the castle to welcome the king was a hectic affair, but they managed it, barely.

Eddard didn't know precisely what he was expecting, but the ragged horsemen in dinted armor that came pouring into his home certainly were not how he envisoned the first meeting with his friend in seven or eight years. They sat low in the saddle, looking about warily, shivering under their cloaks, as well they might. While not quite full winter yet, the chill was biting, and these southrons were plainly not used to it.

Even the king's banner, that proud crowned stag on gold, hung but limply from the staff, looking tattered, worn, and somehow faded in the afternoon gloom. At once, he realized they'd run into wildlings as well.

"Your Grace, are you well?" he asked Robert in worry, for that giant atop a horse, clad in black steel, could only be King Robert Baratheon, first of his name.

"Aye, Ned, whole and hale. Just a little trouble on the road, is all," the king answered with easy charm.

It didn't look like "a little trouble" to Eddard. When Robert dismounted with a mighty roar, they embraced like the brothers they were. Briefly, Eddard explained the progress of the war with the wildlings, and how there'd been a battle against the "King Beyond the Wall."

"Would that I might have joined you, old friend," Robert replied after listening gravely to the report from his Warden of the North. "We had a taste of it ourselves, it seems. At first, I thought them bandits, but outlaws would steer clear of a party of armed men. Isn't that right, son?"

Son?"

The squire riding next to Robert dismounted as well. He was almost of a height with Eddard. When he removed his helm, Ned gasped.

The very image of Jaime Lannister! Though his blond hair was plastered to his head, looking rather dull, there was no mistaking the Lannister blood in the crown prince. "They were braver than brigands have any right to be. That first night they attacked, one almost knifed me in the dark."

Robert chuckled. "But you did for him, though, didn't you? And others. Joff is a lad you'd be happy to have at your back in a scrap. The men call him 'Blackaxe' now," the king bragged.

Ned sighed. So both their sons had seen battle and killed men. It did not sit well with him, but at least they survived. "Blackaxe?"

"After the axe I use in battle, my lord. I never bothered giving it another name. That first night, we were careless. Once we crossed the Neck, we thought ourselves safe and had only a handful of men on watch. The journey through the riverlands was not easy, either."

"I should think not," Eddard replied. "The trident must be quite flooded in this season."

"Aye, that's so," Robert confirmed. "Anyway, the wildlings attacked us twice more. We lost twenty good men, including three knights of the Kingsguard. May the gods have mercy on them."

That bad? Hearing of Robert and his boy waylaid in his own lands filled Eddard with a terrible black anger. He kneeled at once. "I have failed in my duties, Your Grace."

Robert waved him off. "Now, now, none of that, Ned. You were busy with your battle, I understand. It's war, and men die. Frankly, I'm glad my boy got a taste of it, just a taste. If the gods are good, he won't have to fight for his life again while I live." The big man gave him a meaningful look. "Take me down to your crypt, Eddard. I would pay my respects."

Ned loved him for that, for remembering her still after all these years. He made to lead the way when the prince spoke up.

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"Do you want to be alone, Father?" he asked.

The king thought for a moment. "No, come," he decided. "We shall speak on matters of state, matters I'd like you to hear."

So they departed, all three, down to the depths where Eddard's ancestors were laid to rest.

When they reached Lyanna's tomb, Robert knelt and prayed in silence. When he rose, they reminisced for a time. Robert hadn't changed at all. If anything, the man looked bigger and more imposing than he did when they rode south to win a throne. They spoke of Jon Arryn and their good memories. It was like being a boy in the Eyrie again, having his friend right in front of him, after being separated so long.

But there was another boy there, Eddard couldn't forget. Prince Joffrey stood back at a respectful distance while the men conversed. A polite lad, he thought, big and strong for his age. Might be taller than Robb, even though he's two years younger.

My son will hate that. Inwardly, Ned was smiling.

When Joffrey realized Eddard was looking his way, he spoke up. "This is really an excellent castle, my lord. Never have I seen the like! It boggles belief that men could make such a place."

Robert groaned. "Joff, don't start! Do you want to bore the man?" He turned back to Eddard. "Ned, my boy, well, he's always liked building things. You should see King's Landing now, unrecognizable compared to how it used to look, sweeter smelling, too."

"I'd love to hear all about it at dinner, Robert."

"Be careful what you wish for, Stark!" the king warned. "I've been on the road with him for two turns of the moon, and I've learned more about sewers than I ever cared to. Joff will talk your ear off if you let him. If he wasn't a decent fighter, I'd ship him right off to the Citadel for a maester."

"Don't threaten me with a good time, Father!" the boy teased back.

Soon, they were all laughing like madmen, the sounds echoing in the depths like a demon orgy. Eddard hoped their merriment would not discomfit the ancient Kings in the North.

"Anyway, Ned, you must know I didn't come here without reason."

"Oh, I thought it was just a friendly visit," Eddard played dumb.

"I mean to make you my hand!" he thundered. Hand. Hand. Hand. The word echoed. This is what he feared, and after laughing with his friend, Eddard found the offer hard to refuse. "There's more," the king announced when he didn't accept right away. "I brought my son for a reason. He's a fine lad, as I'm sure you can see, and yet unpromised. I mean to change that."

Joffrey looked away uncomfortably, and Eddard knew at once what Robert meant. "Your Joffrey and my Sansa?" he asked. Eddard never dared to imagine the king would offer to make his daughter a queen. Now it would be doubly hard to refuse!

"Don't answer right away, my lord!" the boy said, making Robert frown, but the king didn't speak up to stop him. "I know it's a lot to ask, with the North in the state it's in, but there is something we can do."

"There is?" Robert sounded as confused as he was.

"You mentioned direwolves helped you corner the wildling king, correct?"

Ned nodded.

"Well, we've got eighty-odd swords to put at your disposal. I propose we use your wolves to hunt what wildlings remain. They'll track them for us, and together we'll scour the North before winter sets in properly. Honestly, if one hundred men upon the Kingsroad cannot pass in safety, what hope do isolated farming villages or shepherds in valleys have? We must set the land to rights, and you've got a king and a prince to help you. That done, you can make your decision with a peaceful heart."

Robert was smiling widely. "See? Who could ask for a cleverer lad? What do you say, Ned? Let's you and I ride to battle together once again!"