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"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 53: The Wolf's Dilemma
The great hall of Winterfell was cold, despite the fires that burned in the hearths at either end.
Eddard Stark sat at the high table, his hands wrapped around a cup of mulled wine that had long since gone cold, his grey eyes fixed on the snow falling beyond the narrow windows.
Three months had passed since he had returned to his home. Three months since Joffrey Baratheon had pulled him from his cell, given him back his sword and his freedom, and sent him north with his daughters and two unexpected guests.
Three months, and the world had gone mad.
"Father."
Robb's voice pulled him from his thoughts. His eldest son stood before the table, his auburn hair disheveled, his blue eyes troubled.
He had grown in the months since Ned had left for King's Landing...he was taller now, broader in the shoulders, with the first hints of a beard shadowing his jaw. He was a man, or nearly so. He had been forced to become one.
"A raven from Dragonstone arrived this morning." Robb placed a sealed letter on the table. "Stannis demands that we declare for him and march south with our full forces to take the capital."
Ned looked at the letter without touching it. Like Robb, he could guess the contents. Stannis had been sending letters for weeks, each one more insistent than the last. The rightful king, he called himself. The only true heir to Robert Baratheon. He spoke of the Lannisters' treachery, of the bastard children Cersei had foisted upon the realm, of the need for all true men to rally to his banner.
But Ned had yet to respond to any of them.
"Lord Stannis grows impatient," Robb said.
"Let him be impatient." Catelyn's voice came from the doorway. She entered the hall, her auburn hair pulled back in a braid, her face pale from the cold.
Behind her came Maester Luwin, his chain clinking softly with each step.
"The South can have their war, if that is what they want. Now that our family is safe at home..." She paused. "Winter is coming, Ned. We should be storing grain, not sharpening swords."
Ned gestured for them to sit. "The war will not leave us in peace, Cat. You know this."
"What can they do to us?" She settled into a chair. "We have the Neck to protect us, and Moat Cailin. No army has ever taken Moat Cailin from the south."
"Stannis is not the only one demanding our attention, my lord." Maester Luwin settled into a chair, his old face lined with worry. "I have received word from White Harbor. Lord Manderly reports that the Ironborn are stirring. He believes Balon Greyjoy may be planning to take advantage of the chaos and rebel once more."
Ned's jaw tightened. The Ironborn. He had fought them once, alongside Robert, and had seen the devastation they left in their wake. If Balon Greyjoy decided to rebel, he could do great damage before they could send aid to the western coast.
But he was not overly concerned. "I know Balon Greyjoy well enough. The man is an opportunist and a coward. He will not attack the North while all our forces are still here. He will likely send ships to plunder the southern lands, now that the Lannisters and the Tyrells are busy. Besides, we still have his son, Theon, in our grasp. His only heir. He knows what will happen if he moves against us."
"So we are simply to stay here and take no part in the war?" Robb's voice was thick with frustration. "Stannis has called his banners. Renly has done the same. The Lannisters fight on two fronts, and Tywin is said to be marching from Harrenhal to face Stannis in the field."
"What would you do, Robb?" Ned asked. "If you were the Lord of Winterfell. If I had never returned north, and you had to rule. What would you do?"
Robb paused. His father's grey eyes were fixed on him, and he felt a heavy weight settle on his shoulders. "We have nearly twenty thousand men who could be called to arms. The mountain clans, the Umbers, the Karstarks, the Manderlys...they are all waiting for your word. They want to fight, Father. They want to avenge the wrongs done to our house."
"There is nothing to avenge," Catelyn said firmly. "Your father is here. Your sisters are here. They all came home safe and sound... thanks to Him." She did not say the name.
"I understand that our house owes Prince Joffrey a great debt. But what of all the men who died in the capital, at the hands of the Crown's soldiers?" Robb's voice rose. "And the Lannisters will not let this matter go. If they defeat Stannis and Renly, they will come for us. We have two of the Queen's children here at Winterfell. That mad woman knows this."
Stannis was not the only one sending letters. The Lannisters had written as well, demanding the release of the prince and princess, demanding to know the whereabouts of Joffrey.
Catelyn glanced at her husband. "Perhaps we should give those children back to the Lannisters. They do not belong here. They will only bring us trouble." It was the one thing she had never agreed with Ned about.
Ned looked toward the door that led to the guest chambers. Tommen and Myrcella were there, watched by the new septa and a handful of trusted guards. The boy had cried for his mother in the first weeks, but he had stopped now. He spent his days playing with Bran, chasing the direwolves through the godswood...trying to forget that he was a hostage.
The girl was quieter, more reserved. She spent hours reading in the library or sitting by the window, looking south.
They were innocent. That was the worst of it. They had no part in their mother's schemes, no knowledge of the lies that had put them in danger. They were children, caught in a game they did not understand.
"No." Ned's voice was iron. "I will not send them south to be used as pieces in this war. I promised Prince Joffrey that I would keep them safe and away from this conflict. I will not break my promise. Not even if it is the last thing I do."
Catelyn watched her husband's face...the familiar stubborn set of his jaw, the cold fire in his grey eyes. She had seen that look before, when he had refused to send Jon Snow away, when he had insisted on keeping the direwolf pups. There was no arguing with him when he looked like that.
"Very well," she said softly. "I will not speak of it again."
Ned nodded, grateful for her surrender. He knew she was only trying to protect their family, as she always had. But some promises could not be broken, no matter the cost.
Robb, however, was not so easily silenced. "Father, you have always taught me that a man must do what is honorable and perform his duty. But what of our duty to the realm? If Stannis is the rightful heir, we should fight at his side."
Ned was quiet for a long moment. The fire crackled. When he spoke, his voice was softer than Robb had ever heard it.
"Honor." The word tasted like ash on his tongue. "I have done my duty my whole life, Robb. I have kept my vows. I have been loyal to my king and to the realm. And what did it get me?" He looked at his son, memories darkening his grey eyes. "It got me a sword at my throat. It got me watching my men die. It got me a cell. It would have gotten me a death sentence as well."
Robb shifted uncomfortably. "Father—"
"I followed my honor to King's Landing." Ned's voice rose. "I trusted the wrong people because I believed they shared my sense of duty. I told Cersei I knew the truth because I thought she would do the right thing and flee, because I thought it was the merciful thing to do. I refused Renly's offer of help because I did not want to steal children from their beds." He shook his head. "And I almost died for it. My daughters almost died for it. Everything I had built, everything I had protected...it nearly turned to dust because I could not see past my own honor."
The hall fell silent. Even the fire seemed to burn lower.
"For once, I am not thinking about what is honorable," Ned said. "I am thinking about what is right. For our family. For the North." He looked at Catelyn, then at Robb, then at Maester Luwin. "I am trying to decide what is best for us, not for some distant king who wishes to sit on a throne made of swords."
Robb frowned. "But if Stannis is the rightful king—"
"The rightful king." Ned's laugh was bitter. "We speak of rightful kings as if the gods themselves anointed them. Robert was not the rightful king, Robb. He took the throne by conquest. The Targaryens ruled for three hundred years because they had dragons, not because anyone chose them. 'Rightful' is a word men use to justify their ambitions."
He rose from his chair and walked to the window. The snow continued to fall, blanketing the courtyard in white. In the distance, he could see the outline of the godswood, the bare branches of the weirwood tree reaching toward the grey sky.
"If we speak of rightful heirs," Ned said quietly, "there is another. One we have not spoken of."
Robb's brow furrowed. "Who?"
"Daenerys Targaryen."
The name hung in the air like a curse.
"The Mad King's daughter." Robb's voice was cold. "You would have us support her? After what her father did to our grandfather? After what her brother did to Aunt Lyanna?"
Ned turned to face his son. "I am not saying we should support her. I am saying that we should not pretend Stannis is the only alternative to the Lannisters. There is another across the sea. She has hatched three living dragons from stone. The world is changing, Robb."
"My lord," Maester Luwin spoke, "we still do not know if that is true. All we have are rumors from a distant land."
"They are true." Ned glanced at the old maester. "Prince Joffrey knew of this before leaving King's Landing. Lord Tyrion confirmed it for me."
Robb's eyes widened. "Is that where Prince Joffrey went? To find the Targaryen princess?"
The last Targaryen, three dragons, and Joffrey Baratheon...together. Now he understood his father's hesitation to support Stannis.
Maester Luwin cleared his throat. "What are you suggesting, my lord?"
"I am suggesting that we wait." Ned returned to the table, placing his hands on the worn wood. "We will call the banners, but we will not march. We will gather our strength, stock our granaries, and watch. Let Stannis, Renly, and the Lannisters bleed each other white if that is what they want. Let the Ironborn raid the southern coasts. Let the Tyrells play their games."
"And the Targaryen princess?" Robb asked.
"We will watch for news from Essos as well." Ned looked at his son. "If she comes west, we will decide then. If Stannis wins, we will treat with him. If Renly wins, we will do the same. If the Lannisters somehow prevail..." He paused. "Then we will have a decision to make."
Robb was silent for a long moment. Then he nodded slowly. "You are asking us to do nothing."
"I am asking you to be patient." Ned placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "There is a difference."
The hall fell silent. The fire crackled. Outside, the snow continued to fall.
Somewhere in the east, on a ship sailing toward Asshai, a boy with green eyes was changing the world in ways no one could predict.
And in the halls of Winterfell, the wolves waited.
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