Chapter 21 – The Archer and the Wolf
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Bran tore across the courtyard after Arya with all the fury his small body could manage.
"Arya!" he shouted.
Arya only laughed harder.
She darted around barrels and training dummies with ease, clutching the bow triumphantly while Bran chased after her.
Alyssa immediately joined the pursuit.
"Oh no you don't," she called, laughing as she sprinted after both of them.
Arya shrieked dramatically when Alyssa nearly caught the back of her tunic.
"You're supposed to be on my side!" Arya accused.
"I am on your side," Alyssa shot back. "I just also enjoy chaos."
Behind them, Jon, Robb, and Rickon watched the chase with open amusement.
Rickon was laughing loudly enough that half the yard had turned to look.
Up above on the balcony, Ned, Catelyn, and Margaery watched the scene unfold.
Margaery leaned slightly against the railing, thoroughly unimpressed.
"Your daughter is encouraging them," she observed dryly.
Catelyn sighed.
"She usually does."
Below them, Alyssa finally caught Arya around the waist and lifted her clean off the ground.
Arya shrieked in outrage while Bran immediately celebrated his victory.
"I win!" Bran declared proudly.
"You cheated," Arya accused from where Alyssa held her.
"I absolutely did," Bran agreed.
Alyssa laughed and finally set Arya back down.
That was when another voice echoed through the courtyard.
"Lord Stark!"
The laughter slowly faded.
Ned and Catelyn both turned.
Ser Rodrik Cassel approached across the balcony with Theon beside him.
"My lady," Ser Rodrik greeted respectfully with a nod toward Catelyn.
She returned it.
"A guardsman just rode in from the hills," Ser Rodrik continued grimly. "They've captured a deserter from the Night's Watch."
The atmosphere shifted immediately.
Ned looked away for a brief moment.
A muscle tightened in his jaw.
Then he straightened.
"Get the lads to saddle their horses," he ordered.
Theon nodded immediately and headed back toward the stairs.
Catelyn stepped closer to Ned.
"Do you have to?" she asked quietly.
"He swore an oath, Cat."
"The law is law, my lady," Ser Rodrik added.
Catelyn looked away unhappily.
Ned's gaze drifted back down toward the courtyard.
"Tell Bran he's coming too," he said.
Then after a pause—
"Alyssa as well."
Catelyn looked back at him in surprise.
Ser Rodrik nodded once before departing.
"Ned," Catelyn said softly, "ten is too young to see such things."
"He won't be a boy forever," Ned replied.
His expression hardened slightly.
"And winter is coming."
Then he turned and walked away.
Catelyn remained where she was, troubled.
Beside her, Margaery was quieter than usual.
Watching.
Thinking.
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Down in the courtyard, the mood had changed.
The laughter from moments before had faded into something more subdued.
Robb, Jon, Alyssa, and Rickon gathered the practice arrows scattered through the snow while Bran and Arya argued nearby.
Jon crouched beside one of the targets, pulling arrows free one by one.
As he stood, he glanced upward.
Catelyn was still there.
Watching him.
The familiar look of cold disapproval settled across her face.
Jon's shoulders tightened almost imperceptibly.
Alyssa noticed immediately.
Her gaze flicked from Jon to her mother.
Sadness crossed her expression first.
Then frustration.
But before she could say anything, Jon had already looked away.
What Alyssa didn't see, was the way Jon looked at her afterward.
Longing.
Quiet.
Painfully soft.
His gaze lingered as she bent to gather another arrow from the snow, brushing loose hair back from her face while helping Rickon reach one lodged in a practice dummy.
Then Theon appeared beside them.
"Enough standing around," he called. "Your father wants horses saddled. We're riding out."
Robb immediately straightened.
Bran looked excited.
Arya looked annoyed she wasn't included.
And Alyssa—
Alyssa felt the strange weight in the air grow just a little heavier.
The playful ease vanished from her expression almost instantly.
In its place came something colder.
Sharper.
Lady of Moat Cailin.
She turned toward Theon fully.
"What happened?" she asked.
Even her voice had changed.
Less sister.
More ruler.
Theon's expression sobered as well.
"A watchman from the Night's Watch deserted," he said. "They caught him in the hills."
Robb's expression immediately hardened.
Jon went quiet beside them.
Alyssa nodded once, face stern now.
She understood.
So did they.
In the North, deserters from the Watch only meant one thing.
Execution.
Rickon looked between them, confused by the sudden shift in mood.
Alyssa softened slightly at the sight.
Without another word, she scooped him up into her arms and headed toward the stairs leading to the balcony above.
Rickon wrapped his arms around her neck immediately.
When Alyssa reached the top, she set him carefully back on his feet before leaning down to kiss Catelyn's cheek.
"I'll look after Bran, mother," she promised quietly.
Catelyn reached up briefly, brushing Alyssa's cheek with her fingers.
"I know you will."
Alyssa then turned toward Margaery.
"I'll be heading out with them too," she said.
Margaery studied her for a moment.
Then nodded once.
"I expected nothing less."
Alyssa stepped closer, resting a hand briefly against Margaery's waist before leaning in to kiss her softly.
When they pulled apart, Alyssa bent down toward Tavion, who blinked sleepily up at her from Margaery's arms.
She pressed a gentle kiss to her son's forehead.
"Be good for your Kepa littlest wolf," Alyssa murmured.
Tavion made a sleepy little sound in response.
Alyssa smiled faintly before straightening and heading back toward the stairs leading down to the courtyard and the stables below.
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The execution grounds lay a short ride from Winterfell.
The clearing was cold and hard beneath their boots, the ground frosted lightly while Stark soldiers stood watch around the area, their breath misting in the freezing air.
Ned Stark stood near the center beside Ser Rodrik Cassel.
Nearby waited Robb, Jon, Theon, Alyssa, and Bran.
Jory Cassel stood with the guards, hand resting near the hilt of his sword.
The cold air felt heavier out here.
Still.
Watching.
Kormed Grayburn approached through the snow before stopping before Ned.
"Greetings, Lord Stark," he said grimly. "They're bringing the deserter in now."
Ned nodded once.
Kormed stepped back beside Jory as two Stark guards dragged a shackled man forward.
Will.
The ranger looked half-frozen and half-mad.
Under his breath, he kept muttering the same words over and over.
"White Walkers... White Walkers... I saw the White Walkers..."
Bran shifted uneasily beside Alyssa.
Jon remained expressionless.
Robb's jaw tightened.
But Alyssa—
Alyssa felt cold settle deep into her bones.
Because she knew he was telling the truth.
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Will was forced down in front of Ned.
"I know I broke my oath," he said shakily. "And I know I'm a deserter."
His eyes darted around desperately.
"I should have gone back to the Wall and warned them, but... I saw what I saw."
Fear cracked through his voice.
"I saw the White Walkers. People need to know."
Alyssa's hands curled slightly at her sides.
Ned exchanged uneasy looks with Ser Rodrik, Kormed, and Jory.
"If you can get word to my family..." Will continued weakly. "Tell them I'm no coward. Tell them I'm sorry."
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Inevitable.
Ned finally gave a grim nod toward the guards.
They forced Will down onto the execution block.
Nearby, Theon handed Ice to Ned.
The greatsword looked enormous in the gray morning light.
Ned stepped forward and bowed his head briefly over the blade.
"In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, First of His Name—"
"Don't look away," Jon murmured quietly beside Bran.
"—King of the Andals and the First Men—"
"Father will know if you do," Jon added.
"—Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, I, Eddard of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, sentence you to die."
As Bran stared ahead nervously, Alyssa rested both hands gently against his shoulders in silent support.
Then Ice fell.
The sound echoed through the clearing.
Bran flinched.
But he did not look away.
Jon nodded slightly.
"You did well."
The tension slowly released from Bran's shoulders.
Jon walked away first.
Robb immediately moved beside Bran, throwing an arm around him.
Alyssa joined him on Bran's other side.
Together, they walked back toward the horses.
Behind them, Ned handed Ice back to a guard before approaching Bran.
"You understand why I did it?" Ned asked.
Bran nodded slightly.
"Jon said he was a deserter."
Ned crouched slightly to Bran's level.
"But do you understand why I had to kill him?"
Bran hesitated.
"'Our way is the old way?'"
Ned nodded.
"The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword."
Bran looked down briefly before asking quietly:
"Is it true he saw the White Walkers?"
Silence.
A long one.
Ned's expression tightened almost imperceptibly.
"The White Walkers have been gone for thousands of years," he said carefully.
"So he was lying?" Bran asked.
Another pause.
"A madman sees what he sees."
Alyssa looked toward her father then.
"Father," she said quietly, "the man didn't seem to be lying."
Ned's eyes shifted toward her.
For a moment, something uneasy passed between them.
Then Ned exhaled slowly.
"Fear can make men believe terrible things," he replied. "Especially beyond the Wall."
But even as he said it—
he did not sound entirely certain.
And Alyssa noticed.
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The ride back toward Winterfell was quieter than before.
The execution lingered heavily in the air around them.
Even Bran seemed more subdued now.
They traveled through the edge of the Wolfswood beneath cold gray skies, the sounds of horses and rustling trees filling the silence.
Then suddenly—
Ned pulled his horse to a stop.
Ahead of them, lying in the middle of the road, was the carcass of a stag.
Its body had been brutally torn apart.
Its belly ripped open.
Entrails scattered.
One antler broken clean off.
Ned dismounted immediately.
Jon, Theon, and Alyssa followed after him.
"What is it?" Jon asked.
Theon frowned at the carcass.
"Mountain lion?"
"There are no mountain lions in these woods," Ned replied.
Alyssa crossed her arms, eyeing the damage carefully.
"You sure about that, Father?" she asked. "I mean, the thing's been completely torn apart. What else could've done this?"
Ned did not answer immediately.
But the wary look in his eyes told her he had wondered the same thing.
Slowly, Ned drew his sword.
The others followed him cautiously deeper into the trees.
The woods grew quieter.
Too quiet.
Then they found it.
A massive direwolf lay dead among the roots and frost-covered grass.
The broken antler pierced clean through its throat.
Around the corpse, several small direwolf pups huddled together.
Ned knelt beside the dead wolf.
Jon crouched beside him.
Nearby, Robb, Ser Rodrik, and Jory all looked visibly unsettled.
"It's a freak..." Theon muttered.
Robb snorted.
"Well then," he said dryly, "the two of you should get along just fine."
Theon glared at him.
Ned shot Robb a warning glance before returning his attention to the wolf.
"It's a direwolf," Ned said quietly.
He and Ser Rodrik exchanged a grim look.
"Tough old beast."
Ned gripped the broken antler and yanked it free.
Robb still looked uneasy.
"There are no direwolves south of the Wall..."
"Now there are six," Jon murmured.
Ser Rodrik stepped closer to inspect them.
Alyssa tilted her head slightly, listening.
Then she moved farther through the brush.
"Actually," she called back, "there are three more over here. A total of nine."
Jon quickly counted again.
A moment later, he looked up.
"She's right," he admitted. "Nine."
Jon carefully picked up one of the pups before turning toward Bran.
"You want to hold it?"
Bran nodded eagerly and accepted the pup carefully.
"Where will they go?" he asked softly. "Their mother's dead."
"They don't belong down here," Ser Rodrik said.
Ned stood.
"Better a quick death," he said reluctantly. "They won't last without their mother."
"Right," Theon agreed.
He stepped forward and took the pup from Bran before pulling a knife free.
"NO!" Bran shouted.
"Put away your blade!" Robb snapped.
"I take orders from your father, not you," Theon shot back.
Alyssa immediately stepped directly into Theon's space.
"Do what he says, Greyjoy," she warned.
Theon stared back at her.
"Are you threatening me?"
"Both of you, stop!" Ned barked sharply.
Alyssa backed off with visible reluctance.
Theon still held both the pup and the knife.
"Please, Father," Bran begged.
Alyssa looked toward Ned.
"Really, Father," she said quietly. "It seems a bit harsh to kill them."
Bran immediately looked toward Alyssa hopefully.
Ned closed his eyes briefly.
"I'm sorry, Bran."
"Lord Stark?"
Everyone turned toward Jon.
"There are nine pups," Jon said carefully. "One for each of the Stark children and grandchildren. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. They were meant to have them."
Alyssa glanced toward the smaller pups she had gathered together.
"Arlenna and Tavion would love one," she added softly.
Silence followed.
Everyone waited.
Finally, Ned sighed heavily.
"You will train them yourselves," he said. "You will feed them yourselves. And if they die, you will bury them yourselves."
Bran immediately smiled.
Theon sheathed his knife.
Robb and Ser Rodrik moved to help gather the pups.
"What about you?" Bran asked Jon.
Jon gave a small shrug.
"I'm not a Stark. Get on."
Bran started toward the horses.
Then Theon approached Jon carrying the smallest pup.
Unlike the others, this one was completely white.
Robb grinned.
"Actually, Jon, you can have this one," he said. "He's as white as a snow bear's arse. And he's got red eyes."
Jon looked genuinely surprised.
Nearby, Alyssa, Bran, and Theon all glanced back toward him.
Theon chuckled.
"Snow getting the runt of the litter?" he mocked. "I suppose that's fitting..."
Alyssa shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel.
Theon merely smirked before walking off.
Alyssa bent and picked up three of the pups.
One was pure black.
Another had soft russet-colored fur.
And the third had pale cream-colored fur.
"That one's for Arlenna," Alyssa declared, nodding toward the cream-colored pup.
She lifted the russet pup slightly.
"And this one's Tavion's."
Robb raised an eyebrow.
"You really think Margaery's going to allow your two tiny children to keep direwolves as pets?"
Alyssa froze.
Then sighed dramatically.
"Bloody hell."
The others burst into laughter.
"I'll figure it out," she muttered.
Then Robb walked back toward Jon and gently held out the small white pup.
"He's all yours, brother."
Jon accepted the direwolf carefully.
His red eyes met Jon's dark ones immediately.
Nearby, Bran and Alyssa both smiled.
Still laughing softly amongst themselves, the group mounted their horses and began riding back toward Winterfell—
with the direwolf pups tucked safely in their arms.
Winterfell buzzed with confusion the moment they returned.
Stable boys stared.
Servants whispered.
Even the guards looked uncertain as the Stark children rode into the courtyard carrying direwolf pups.
Alyssa dismounted carefully, balancing the black pup in one arm while the russet and cream-colored pups squirmed against her chest.
"This is going to go wonderfully," she muttered under her breath.
Robb laughed immediately.
"Oh, absolutely."
Alyssa shot him a flat look before turning toward one of the nearby servants.
"You," she called.
The young servant froze.
"Yes, my lady?"
"Fetch my wife and Arlenna," Alyssa ordered. "Tell them to meet me in our chambers immediately."
The servant glanced nervously at the three direwolf pups.
Then wisely decided not to ask questions.
"Yes, my lady."
Several minutes later, Alyssa paced the length of her chambers.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
The black pup lounged comfortably across the foot of the bed like it already owned the room.
The russet-colored pup sat beside Tavion's blankets, occasionally nudging curiously at the sleepy little boy.
Meanwhile, the cream-colored pup bounced wildly around the room with endless energy.
Alyssa dragged a hand through her hair.
"There has to be a foolproof way to explain this," she muttered.
The door opened.
Margaery stepped inside holding Arlenna's hand.
Arlenna immediately gasped.
"Wolves!"
The cream-colored pup instantly bounded toward her.
Arlenna squealed happily and dropped to the floor.
"Oh no," Margaery said immediately.
Alyssa pointed dramatically.
"Before you say anything," she started quickly, "I have excellent reasons."
Margaery slowly crossed her arms.
"That sentence has never once led to something good."
Alyssa ignored that.
"The direwolf is literally the Stark sigil," she argued. "They were abandoned. Bran cried. Jon got attached. Father said yes."
Margaery blinked.
"You brought home three direwolves because Bran cried?"
"When you say it like that it sounds unreasonable. Um.. no, actually, the group brought back ten direwolf pups. Six for the Stark children, one for Jon, and two for our children."
Margaery simply stared at her.
Blankly.
Completely blankly.
"It is unreasonable."
The cream-colored pup climbed directly into Arlenna's lap.
The toddler immediately hugged it tightly.
"Please, Kepa," Arlenna begged with enormous eyes. "Can keeps?"
Margaery looked dangerously close to caving already.
Alyssa saw it instantly.
She pressed her advantage.
"Look," she said more gently, "you and I already turn into giant bloody direwolves. We can handle a few pups."
Margaery's expression twitched.
"And honestly?" Alyssa continued. "It's more protection for the children."
As if agreeing with her, the russet-colored pup curled directly beside Tavion protectively.
The little boy blinked sleepily at it before reaching out with tiny hands.
Margaery visibly weakened.
Alyssa immediately noticed.
"Oh, thank the gods," she breathed dramatically. "You're considering it."
"I am considering how insane this entire family has made my life," Margaery corrected.
The black pup yawned hugely from the bed.
Arlenna hugged the cream-colored wolf tighter.
"Please?" she tried again.
Margaery sighed heavily.
Then looked toward Alyssa.
"You are training them," she declared.
Alyssa straightened immediately.
"Yes, wife."
"You are cleaning up after them."
"Yes, wife."
"And when they destroy something—"
"They would never," Alyssa interrupted.
Margaery gave her a look.
Alyssa immediately corrected herself.
"—when they inevitably destroy something, I will handle it."
Finally, Margaery sighed one last time.
"Fine."
Arlenna shrieked happily.
Alyssa looked genuinely triumphant.
Then the cream-colored pup immediately crashed into a table leg hard enough to knock over an entire stack of books.
Margaery closed her eyes.
Alyssa winced.
"...Still worth it."
Then suddenly Alyssa brightened.
"Oh!"
Before Margaery could question the change, Alyssa hurried across the room, grabbed Margaery's wrist, and pulled her toward the bed with unmistakably childish excitement.
"Look at this one," Alyssa said eagerly.
The pure black direwolf pup lazily lifted its head from where it sprawled across the blankets.
Its dark fur practically melted into the Stark bedding.
Alyssa crouched beside it with an enormous grin.
"Look how beautiful she is."
Margaery looked down at her wife.
Not the wolf.
Alyssa.
At the excitement shining openly across her face.
At the way she practically vibrated with joy.
And for a moment, Margaery's expression softened completely.
Full of love.
And quiet exasperated affection.
Gods, she adored this reckless woman.
Then Alyssa abruptly jumped back to her feet and clapped her hands loudly.
"Oh gods, they need names!"
Arlenna gasped dramatically.
"The bestest names!"
The little girl immediately scooped up the cream-colored pup with both arms and stumbled back toward Margaery proudly.
"Look, Kepa!" she said excitedly. "It has to be the bestest name!"
Margaery laughed softly despite herself.
Nearby, Tavion suddenly burst into delighted giggles as the russet-colored pup started enthusiastically licking his face.
The little boy squealed happily and grabbed fistfuls of fur while the pup wagged its tiny tail furiously.
Alyssa pointed dramatically toward them.
"See?" she declared triumphantly. "They already love each other. Clearly this was fate."
Margaery raised a brow.
"Clearly."
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