Ghost

Ned

The sound of the arrow whistled through the air as it hit the straw target, an elated Bran cheered as he hit the bullseye of it. He watched from the balcony above as Robb and Theon gave the young boy a few tips for his next shot.

He blinked as the next shot came, the ache in his right eye had almost subsided from his fading black eye, this shot came from a different source this time. The boys turned around to see a grinning Arya with a bow in her hands, she bowed extravagantly when they saw her.

So she wasn't with Jon then. He mused.

It'd been a week since Jon had returned from Castle Black and a week of silence from the lad whenever he tried to strike up a conversation with him.

He expected them to start off from where they left off but the silence and the ignoring somewhat baffled him.

It was odd, almost as if something had happened at Castle Black.

He didn't like how unsettling it was.

Especially the glares from him. Whenever he caught Jon in the hall or in the yard looking at him it was honestly one of the most unnerving things he'd ever experienced.

He'd just stare at him, unblinking with an intensity that belonged on a battlefield and not in a home.

Ned always looked away first.

He sighed, sooner or later something would happen, it was like they were drifting down a river in separate boats, staring at each other, but sooner or later, the river would end and the waterfall would take them.

It was an inevitability .

Catelyn had also voiced her opinion once again when she realised her hope of him staying up at Castle Black were in vain.

She wanted him out, she'd had enough. She believed Jon had spent enough time visiting his family and it was now time for him to leave. She'd made the argument that he was just disrupting the household at this point, Arya had become even more stubborn and distracted in lessons and Cat believed it was Jon's influence on her that was affecting her learning.

She'd also reminded him that Jon could clearly take care of himself and didn't need babying anymore from him.

He hated that nearly everything that she said had merit.

All he told her was that he would think of something, and he had been. Jon ignoring him had been horrible but it had also given him the chance to think about the lad's future.

Legitimising him so he could rule one of the many abandoned keeps in the north was out of the question, Catelyn and her side of the family would flat out refuse that idea and the less he had to deal with the crown the better.

Castle Black also seemed out of the picture as well. It was Cat's preferable choice but at the end of the day it wasn't her choice, it was Jon's. Something the lad didn't seem too bothered about.

He really didn't have the heart to force him either. Though he doubted anybody could force Jon to do anything anymore.

It unfortunately reminded him of someone.

One of the better ideas was to ask one of his lords if they would take him on as a guard or something, maybe a master at arms somewhere. He'd not seen much of Jon's skills since he'd returned since he seems to practice somewhere in the wolfswood but he believed he was still very capable.

His first choice would be White Harbour with Lord Manderly, he would have to suggest it to the man when all the lords met up and journeyed to this bloody tournament.

Another headache for him to get through.

He really couldn't refuse the invitation when it came from the King himself but my god did he want to. It was more trouble than it was worth and brought back memories he wished he could bury and forget forever.

He only hopes that Jon has as little interest in tournaments than he did. The further away he was from that the better.

Everybody from the household was going, apart from Robb and his new wife. It was his own suggestion, apparently it would be good practice for when he eventually took his father's spot. He was impressed with his son's decision and told him that as well.

Theon was asked by Robb if he wanted to stay with him and Alys but had just scoffed and said he wouldn't be missing this for the world. He also made a comment about meeting a dornish woman there for himself but he walked away from that conversation before he hit the lad.

Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon were also very excited for the tournament, Sansa had in fact, started packing her things weeks in advance. Arya wanted to enter the archery contest, Bran wanted to watch all the knights in the big melee that was planned and Rickon just seemed to feed off everybody else's excitement, he wasn't sure if the little lad knew what was even happening.

He wasn't sure what Jon felt, he'd have to be talking to him to know that.

All of a sudden, Jory came running up the stairs of the balcony and addressed him "Lord Stark..." The man breathed out "...they've caught a deserter from the Night's Watch, my lord." He said, the rest going unsaid.

Duty calls. He thought grimly.

He turned to Jory "Round up the boys, that includes Theon and tell them to wait at the stables. Leave out Rickon, he's too young at the moment to see this. I'll get Ser Rodrik and let Lady Stark know there's to be an execution." He said as Jory nodded his head and shot off.

Before he went to carry out his tasks, he noticed Jon in the distance, emerge from the crypts with a weird look on his face.

What the fuck is that?! Why does he look like that?! He frantically thought.

He took a deep breath, there was no need to be panicking and there was no need to be paranoid.

He didn't know.

And anyway, he could have been down there for the peace and quiet for all he knew.

He approached a quick moving Jon before he could disappear for the rest of the day.

"Jon!" He shouted. Jon stopped walking with his back to him and if the rise and fall of his shoulders was anything to go on, he'd just taken a deep breath.

At least he's staying calm and not swinging for him anymore.

He turned around with raised eyebrows, nostrils flaring. He looked at him with that intensity again and seemed to ask him 'what?' with his gestures alone.

He cleared his throat "What er...what were you doing in there?" He asked as he nodded his head towards the entrance to the crypts.

Jon didn't answer.

This was getting a little old "Will you at least answer me? This whole silent treatment is getting a little childish now, you're a man grown for crying out loud." He said.

He could literally see Jon grind his teeth before turning his back on him and walking off.

"Jon, listen." He said as he grabbed hold of his arm to halt his escape. Jon looked at it like it was something he'd stepped in before locking eyes with him.

He restrained from gulping.

Jon shrugged his arm off but before he could leave, Ned told him about the deserter "Jory is rounding up all your brothers at the stables, they've caught a deserter of the Night's Watch and we're all going to the execution, you too please." He said. He shouldn't have to be asking please but it was just easier at this point.

He was putting his foot in it every time he tried to speak to him.

Jon looked at him and with one final look he said "Fine." before walking off towards the stables without a single look back.

He released the breath he didn't know he was holding.

He'd finally said something to him, that was progression in his eyes.

He quickly visited Catelyn to tell her about the execution, she was a little upset that Bran was going with them but he told her that he was old enough and that was the end of that.

Now he was walking towards the stables, he seemed to be the last one to arrive as everybody was sat mounted on horses waiting for him. Robb and Theon were talking with each other and Jon was having a conversation with Bran.

"They're waiting for us with the deserter at the hill Lord Stark." Jory shouted out, he nodded his head at him and quickly mounted his horse. The hill was the same hill that all his executions were held at.

He looked around at everybody "C'mon then, the faster this is done the better." He said as he led the way out of the castle and towards the location the execution would take place.

Arya

Gods it was so unfair.

Why couldn't she go with her brothers? Being a girl was a silly excuse, she was older than Bran for crying out loud!

She huffed as she pulled at her stitching, once again she'd messed it up and had to start again.

Like always.

She looked up at her stitching and noticed the septa commenting on somebody's work. The old bat had practically dragged her into this lesson on her mother's instruction and she hated every second of it.

I will never do this outside this room. She mused. In her eyes, this was a colossal waste of time, time that could have been spent with her brothers at the execution.

"Oh dear." She heard septa Mordane say as she looked at what was in Arya's hands.

Here we go...

"And what has happened here?" The septa asked as everybody looked in her direction.

She shrugged her shoulders as she attempted to fix her mess "I made a mistake so I had to start again." She answered. The truth, what she should be saying because it was wrong to lie according to septa Mordane's teachings.

It didn't make a difference, it never did when she was involved.

"Well if you'd listened to my teachings you wouldn't be making so many mistakes would you Lady Arya." Her septa said in that annoying, know it all tone.

She just rolled her eyes, she couldn't be arsed to fight with her at the moment.

"...well if you talk to him you might find out." She heard Sansa whisper across from her. Jeyne sat next to her had obviously said something.

"I would but I rarely see him anymore, he seems to disappear a lot." Jeyne replied as she stitched what looked like a black wolf.

Sansa rolled her eyes "When did you last speak with him?" She asked her. Arya was confused with what they were talking about.

Jeyne looked down "The wedding." She seemed to mutter.

Sansa looked surprised "That was a week ago, you've seen him in the great hall during mealtimes since then surely?" She asked.

"Yeah but he's always got this look on his face when I see him, he looks at Lord Stark funny and I'm scared of talking to him." She replied with a blush.

Sansa rolled her eyes yet again as she stitched a perfect little winter rose on the corner of a handkerchief "He'll be just brooding, Jon's always been like, even before he left." She replied.

"Jon?!" She blurted out before thinking. Why was Jeyne talking about Jon? She never bothered before.

"Arya!" Septa Mordane shouted "Stop disrupting the lesson." She said. She just scoffed in response and carried on speaking "Why are you talking about Jon?" She asked Jeyne.

She got no response out of Jeyne, she was rather interested in her stitching at that very moment, so she looked at Sansa with a quirked eyebrow.

Sansa shook her head but she could have sworn she saw a tiny grin on her face "Don't look at me Arya, you should ask her." She said as she nudged Jeyne's arm with her own.

She looked back at Jeyne "Well?" She asked.

Jeyne made a funny face as she shook her head "I have no idea what you're talking about Lady Arya." She replied.

Sansa scoffed and looked up from her stitching and looked at her "Jeyne has a crush on Jon." She said.

"Sansa!" Jeyne exclaimed, she looked betrayed which made Arya smile in victory until she realised what Sansa had just said.

She has a crush on Jon?

She guffawed at that "That's stupid, you're too boring, I doubt Jon is interested." She said as she smiled and looked back down at the mess in her hands.

Sansa gasped "Arya! Don't be rude to Jeyne." She exclaimed. Arya looked up and saw Jeyne was looking down at her stitching again, she looked unbothered apart from her shiny eyes.

Is she gonna bloody cry?!

She shook her head "Seven hells..." She muttered to herself. Before anybody else could speak, septa Mordane intervened.

"Enough of this..." She looked at Arya "...you shouldn't be trying to start arguments little lady, and you two..." She said as she looked at Sansa and Jeyne "...you two shouldn't be gossiping about that...boy." She finished as she huffed.

That boy. It was never Jon or her brother when septa Mordane was involved. All because he was a bastard, because she believed it made him less of a person.

He was worth at least ten septa Mordanes .

She gave her the stink eye for the remainder of the lesson and she'd resorted to making the biggest mess of her stitching, just to piss the old bag off.

She heard shouting coming from outside so she dropped her stitching on her chair and raced towards the window to see what was happening.

"Lady Arya, sit back down!" She vaguely heard the septa moan from behind her but she wasn't taking any notice. Her father and her brothers were back from the execution.

"Fathers back!" She said, mainly towards Sansa who looked at the septa for permission to leave. Arya didn't find out her answer since she was out of the room before she answered.

She bolted down the hallway, narrowly avoiding a collision with a guard and entered the courtyard where everybody was dismounting from their horses.

"Arya look!" She heard Bran shout as he rushed towards her, holding a bundle of fur in his arms.

She looked at it in confusion until the fur yawned.

Her eyes went wide "Is that a wolf?" She asked, staring at the little grey and brown furred creature.

He shook his head but was still beaming "No, even better. It's a direwolf." He almost whispered.

A direwolf, wow.

She was officially jealous.

Bran must have seen a look on her face as he opened his mouth again "There's one for all of us Arya, this one is mine." He said as he hugged his direwolf.

Now she was smiling, her very own direwolf. She couldn't wait to see it.

Bran looked behind him towards the rest of the group "Robb has his and a boy one for Rickon with him and Jon has his and two girls with him, one each for you and Sansa." Bran explained.

Now she was really smiling, they all had one, even Jon!

She rushed across to Jon and instantly saw the little white pup peeking out of a pocket on the side of his gambeson, it looked at her with piercing red eyes.

She looked away from the pup and noticed that Jon was smiling at her as he walked across to her. He held both of the girl pups in his hands and held out the light grey and white one in his right hand towards her.

"I think somebody wants to say hello." He said with a smile as she carefully grabbed hold of the little wolf and immediately hugged her to her chest.

She was already in love with the little thing.

Her father walked up to the pair of them and looked at her, Jon moved away from the two of them and headed towards Sansa who had just entered the courtyard.

"I'll tell you what I told the boys, you will train them yourselves, you will feed them yourselves, and if they die, you will bury them yourselves. Do you understand?" He said with his father voice. She just nodded and hugged her wolf a bit more.

He nodded "Good. I best go and tell your mother, I imagine that'll go down well." He japed as he smiled at her before moving towards the great keep.

She looked down at her new friend as the little wolf started squirming and yipping in her arms.

"You need a name." She whispered to the wolf. Names running through her mind as she made her way to the kitchens.

A giant smile on her face.

Rhaegar

He sighed as he leant back in his high back chair, he looked over his council in consideration as they all waited for his answer.

He nodded "Finish the project." He answered. "Put the funds for it to the side Lord Baelish." He finished as his master of coin slowly bowed his head and penned the changes in his notes.

It was nearly finished, the stench of the city that had been a staple of the capital was almost non-existent at this point but with the extra drainage it would be reduced to nothing.

"Anything I should know my lords." He said as he eyed the rest of his council.

Lord Varys bowed his head and spoke "Good tidings your grace, my little birds bring good news." The master of whispers said. He nodded his head for the man to continue.

"It would seem the trouble that was widespread through the free cities has come to a close. The Golden Company have ceased their warpath and seemed to have gone quiet your grace." He explained.

Rhaegar nodded, trade to and from the free cities had slowed down to almost a stand still ever since the mercenary group started their unexplained conquest of them. The cause of which was still a mystery.

"Has there been any word of what caused all of this? They've been at it for a long time with no explanation at all." He asked.

Lord Varys shook his head "I'm afraid not your grace, some of my little birds sing that they were seeking something and some of them sing that they were merely under contract by an unknown benefactor." Varys answered.

He sighed "Try and find out Lord Varys, the sooner we get to the bottom of it the better." He said as the master of whispers bowed his head.

"Any more news Lord Varys or is that all?" He asked, looking out the corner of his left eye he could see Pycelle nodding off.

A new grand maester should probably be on the agenda pretty soon. He thought.

"As a matter of fact, there has been a small song that has reached my ears your grace, from the north of all places." Varys said in his typical riddle talk.

He swallowed a little, he only ever associated the north with one thing and he really didn't want to dwell on that in the middle of a council meeting.

"Go ahead Lord Varys." He said as he gestured for the man to proceed.

"It would seem Lord Stark's son, Lord Robb has wed Lady Alys Karstark, nothing terribly exciting your grace. It would also seem that Lord Stark's bastard son has returned home as well." He said.

"Oh, well that is good news I suppose. I imagine Lord Stark is relieved." he answered. "If that is all I think we can bring this meeting to a close my lords, the grand maester looks like he might pass out if it goes on any longer." He japed as the man himself seemed to sit up and bumble with his words.

He held his hand up before the old man could speak "Save it for another time grand maester, this meeting is over." He declared as he stood, the rest of the council rising after him and bowing their heads as he made his way out of the room, Ser Gerold following him out.

He turned to Ser Gerold as they walked down the corridors of the Red Keep "The Queen is in her chambers yes?" He asked.

The knight nodded "Yes your grace, Ser Oswell and Ser Jonothor should be assisting her with the preparations." He replied.

He nodded and carried on towards her chambers. He'd asked her if she would help prepare the family for the eventual journey to Harrenhal, new clothes were the main thing on the agenda.

All of the preparations at Harrenhal had been completed in time for the tournament in two weeks, it was agreed in advance that the Hand of the King, along with Lord Varys, Lord Baelish and Pycelle would stay behind in the capital to keep it running while the entire Royal family made a collective showing at this statement of a celebration.

A family united.

A united Royal family was a strong message to any would be usurpers.

He nodded to the guard at the Queen's chamber door and entered.

Jon

He was laid on his bed, ready to get to sleep as he looked down at his chest at the small ball of fur yawning at him.

He reactively smiled at his little action.

He also realised that that was the first noise he'd heard from the white pup.

He moved one of his arms from behind his head where he'd been resting them and stroked his little friend, the pup falling on his side and attempting to nip his thumb playfully.

"I'm not playing with you ya little trouble maker, it's time for sleep." He whispered to the pup as it stopped chewing on his thumb and stared at him with intelligent eyes.

Eyes like rubies he had.

He shook his head, he couldn't keep referring to the wolf as 'him', he needed a name.

He moved the pup off of him and onto the bed next to him, the fluffball circled the furs under his little paws before curling up and shutting his eyes.

He himself blew out the last lit candle in the room and closed his eyes, a deep sleep grasping at his mind almost instantly.

He walked out of the great keep and into the courtyard, the night sky shrouded the whole place in darkness. The only source of light was the full moon beaming down, creating a morphed shadow in front of him.

He looked around in the hopes of catching sight of a familiar face but the yard was deserted, not a soul in sight. The silence was complete, even the breeze in his ear was devoid of sound.

All of a sudden, he heard the scrape of wood and the squeak of a door hinge, to his left he could see the door to the crypts slowly moving on its hinges as it swayed in the breeze.

Why he thought it was a good idea to approach it he didn't know, but he was too intrigued to ignore the chill that went up his back when he glanced at it.

The door itself was cold to the touch as he pushed his palm against and entered inside, a dull glow lit up the staircase down but no torches that he could see were lit.

The lower he went as he descended the stone steps the colder it got, his warm breath plumed from his mouth like a winter flame.

The glow was explained as he reached the bottom of the stairs, a single lit torch lit at the other end of the tunnel, like a beacon. He walked towards it like a moth to a flame.

Down here he could hear his footsteps echo throughout the length of the tunnel, the echo was muffled however, like his ears were full of water.

The winter flame his warm breath produced thickened as he walked along, the further he went the thicker it got. His breathing became harder as the winter flame darkened, taking on the appearance of smoke.

It was more than an appearance, it was actually smoke. Thick, ashy smoke filled his lungs as he choked and coughed. He fell to his hands and knees as he wheezed, tears streaming from his eyes as he struggled to recover.

He froze as a hand slapped him on the back repeatedly, running it in soothing circles that cleared his lungs but set his heart racing.

His head snapped around to see who or what had equally helped and distressed his entire being.

Nothing.

Nothing but darkness.

...What?

He slowly turned his head back around and noticed the lit torch again. Rising to his feet, he walked on, approaching the fire, attempted to reach the light.

...But it wasn't working.

The faster he walked, the further away the fire seemed. He picked up his feet and jogged, the light grew smaller. He set off sprinting and within a flash, the crypts were shrouded in darkness.

He spun around on the spot looking for the torch but saw nothing, it was like his eyes were closed. Not even the stairs he come from could be seen anymore.

"This is your fault..." He heard behind him. He spun around in the direction it came from.

Nothing.

"This is your fault..." A different voice whispered behind him. He turned and looked towards it.

Again, nothing.

"This is your fault..." A third voice spoke, a strong voice, it cracked the air around his ears.

The chill it sent down his spine burnt and seared all the way up to the back of his head.

He could hear his pulse in his ears.

"This is all your fault..." The first two voices spoke, they were close now. He spun around in their direction.

Two figures, two grey figures.

...Ghosts?

He opened his mouth "What..."

"This is all your fault..." The figures spoke again, two ghostly figures staring him down. One looked older than the other.

What was his fault?

Before he could ask , the two figures disappeared in front of his very eyes, a white mist left in their wake. The white mist didn't disperse, it grew in quantity and thickness.

It circled him like a pack of hungry wolves , surrounding the crypts like a winter tomb .

A crackle and a hiss filled his ears, filling his mind with an unbearable pressure. He turned around to find a way out, he wanted out now.

He knew this was a dream, he knew this wasn't real, but it still didn't reassure him as he scrambled forward in the hopes of escaping this torment.

"This is all your fault..." The third and final voice whispered into his ear, a venomous creaking like a frozen pond cracking, its tone was obvious.

Pure hatred.

He slowly turned around to see what had uttered the words into his soul. He sucked in a hurried breath as he came nose to nose with something he could only describe as maleficent.

Unblinking sapphire eyes stared right back at him but there was nothing beautiful about them.

They looked almost demonic, the pupil a pit of darkness and fury, black tendrils broke away like an oozing poison, swimming and corrupting.

"This is all your fault..." The demon spoke again, repeating the same five words like a mantra. The protruding bone from its scalp circling its head like a crown of death.

"What is?" He replied, the belief that this wasn't real, that this was just a night terror fortified him, small drops of confidence trickled into his soul as he stood up straight and looked this...this thing right in the eye.

Its face was a blank as it replied "This is all your fault..." It repeated, this time it held its arm out to the side as a sharp length of mist and ice formed in its hand, the same type of ice that was slowly crawling up his back again.

He shrugged his shoulders in a false show of confidence, this wasn't real, strike me all you want, it won't do anything.

He cried out in pain as the spear of ice was thrusted into his ribs, he could feel and even hear the bone creak and crack as the ice was twisted and deepened.

At this point he just wanted to wake up.

The ice crept ever so slowly, moving towards his chest and towards his heart. The pain was excruciating, his hand sizzled when he tried to grab hold of his adversaries' arm, jolting his body and driving the spear closer to his heart.

He could feel the blood around it thickening, freezing in place.

WHY WASN'T HE WAKING UP?!

He shook his head at the demon as he felt the fight in him trickle away, the spear was now resting against his pumping heart. He felt it slow down as he stared death right in the eye with the little energy he had left.

" You..you're ...not...real..." He wheezed out, gritting his teeth when the spear applied pressure to his organ. "None...of..." He struggled to say the words "None...of this...real..." He shook his head " You're ... gho ....you're just...ghost." He finished.

He screamed out as the spear was ripped from him, he dropped to his hands and knees as his blood pooled around him.

He lifted on to his knees as the spear lifted him up by his chin, pointing his face at his end.

" You're just...a ghost..." He said, mainly to himself "Your...ghost..." He whispered out. His eyes went wide as the demon lifted the spear in both hands and pointed it right at his heart.

"Ghost..." A sneer formed on the face of death "Ghost..." He repeated to himself, he was sure of it. The spear was pulled back from his chest as the demon thrusted it into his heart...

"GHOST..."

His eyes shot open, moisture escaped them and ran down his face. His breathing was erratic and his heart was thumping hard in his chest.

At least it was thumping.

His eyes caught the movement on his chest, the small wolf pup was staring at him intently, his scarlet eyes full of emotion.

He controlled his breathing the best as he could at the time as he placed a hand on the wolfs head and gave it a little rub.

His presence calmed him.

"I'm okay boy, just a bad dream." He said. "...definitely a ghost." He came to conclusion of, the last word he said making the pups ears twitch and his head angle in intrigue.

He looked back at wolf "What's that? Do ya like that word? Ghost." He said as the pups head turned again in interest.

He chuckled "Should call you that from now on, you're as quiet as one and you have the colouring." He said. The furball walking up his chest, pawing and licking his face subsequently bringing a smile to his face.

"Get off me you little idiot." He laughed as he picked the pup, seemingly now named 'Ghost' off his face and to his side, wiping his face of the slobber that had been left there by the beast.

His breathing and heart rate had finally calmed down as he laid back down in his bed and sighed. He looked to his left and saw that Ghost was already curled up in a ball, lightly snoring. He shook his head and smiled.

He closed his eyes in the hopes of getting back to sleep and avoiding whatever the fuck that was before.

He slowly opened his eyes, the castle was up and awake, going on their way with their duties. He lifted his arms above his head and stretched, letting out a moan that morphed into god knows what when he yawned. He let his arms fall to his sides after.

He looked to his left when he felt his thumb being nibbled, Ghost seemingly awake as well. He let him have his fun for now but that was a habit he'd have to get out of him quick time.

He laid there and went over his agenda for the day, the castle was preparing for the departure of the Starks minus Robb and Alys. He'd almost forgot about the tourney that Clarissa had mentioned before, he had a lot on his mind right now so he had an excuse.

Robb had reminded him about it though and he would have taken the offer of staying behind with him to help out but he just couldn't, not when he found out that the Royal family would be there, all of them in fact.

His family.

Lord Stark had overheard him and Robb talking about the whole thing last night at supper and to nobody's surprise agreed with Robb's idea of him staying behind and helping out. It had nothing to do with him potentially coming face to face with the other half of his family.

There was no potentially about it.

It was going to happen and there was fuck all Eddard Stark could do about it.

He'd turned towards Lord Stark when he'd decided otherwise with Robb's plan, plastered on a smile and said 'I've always wanted to go to a tourney, should be fun.' Whilst intently looking into the older man's eyes. He noticed the twitches he'd missed when he didn't know the man's dirty little secret.

He thought about that secret now, the 17 year torment at the hands of that man. He'd already come to the conclusion that Uncle Benjen and Uncle Aemon's advice about keeping a level head was the best course of action.

But they said nothing about him having a bit of fun with it.

See how he likes being tormented.

He was gonna make Lord Stark sweat, drop hints and sentences here and there that to anybody else sounded normal, but froze the blood of Ned Stark.

It wasn't a matter of if, it was a matter of when...

When would Lord Eddard Stark crack. He'd survived for 17 years but that was with the upper hand, the secret kept just that.

Uncle Benjen and Uncle Aemon had smashed that advantage to bits, leaving nothing left but a circling Jon.

He sat up and rose from his bed, Ghost rolling about in the mess of furs that were left in his wake and leaving little white hairs everywhere.

He looked across the room at his bags that he'd packed last night, they weren't leaving till tomorrow morning but it didn't hurt to be prepared early, he was eager and who could blame him.

He's always wanted to go to a tourney.

The other bag that was packed that contained the two swords was also going south with him as well. If all the important lords were gonna be at this thing then it was the best place to hand these heirlooms over to their respective owners.

He wasn't gonna lie, he was kind of excited to meet the mighty Tywin Lannister. All around westeros the man had a reputation, a man it was unwise to get on the wrong side of. He had the advantage of hearing about him more personally, the Warden of the West's brother more than happy to divulge details on a man who had a face like a slapped arse, according to Gerion.

He smiled longingly, he wanted to see his friend again soon. The only thing that put him off about it was the journey, both him and Kireina had hated the whole thing.

One day. He had a lot on his plate right now.

He heard Ghost whine from behind him, he turned around and looked at the pup.

"C'mon then, let's get you outside so you can do your business." He said as he quickly got dressed and picked up the pup.

The courtyard was hectic but nobody batted an eyelid in his direction as he headed for the godswood, the grove itself was quiet apart from one man running a whetstone down the length of his sword. The last person he wanted to see right now.

The man looked up from what he was doing as Jon placed Ghost on the ground, rustling some leaves in the progress. The small pup sniffed about before choosing a suitable place to piss before kicking the grass underneath him.

He smiled at Ghost when he looked back up at Jon with his tail wagging, his face screamed 'I'm done, now feed me.'

He turned back around to head out the godswood, absolutely no interest in talking to Lord Stark but he obviously didn't share his feelings.

"Jon!" Lord Stark shouted.

He counted to 3 before turning around. He'd gotten bored of the silent treatment he'd been bestowing on him but it didn't mean he'd stop making this hard for Lord Stark.

"Yes?" He replied.

He had the audacity to pat the space on log next to him where he was sat. Jon looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Do I look like a dog? If so, try whistling, it might help me remember my place." He said.

Ned sighed "Just sit..."

He raised his eyebrow at that, Ned nodded his head "Can you sit down next to me, please?" He asked. Jon just nodded at him.

They both sat there for at least a minute before Lord Stark opened his mouth "He been much trouble?" He asked as he nodded towards Ghost who was staring at his reflection in the small pond next to them.

He sat me down for small talk?

He sighed but shook his head "He's been good as gold, been a good boy haven't you?" He said, the last part aimed at Ghost who dipped his nose in the pool and bolted away from it like he'd been stung.

He chuckled at his little friend.

So did Lord Stark to his annoyance.

"Rickon's has already gotten him in trouble with his mother, feeding him at the table during breakfast." He chuckled.

"Hilarious." He dryly replied, Ned just sighed.

He went quiet again until Jon caught him staring at him almost remorsefully. "What?" He asked him, curtly.

Ned shook his head and looked forward, he took a deep breath "Catelyn wants you gone." He said as he looked at the ground, completely avoiding eye contact with him.

"What a shame." He replied. Ned looked up at him.

"Jon..." He said, he would have been scared of that warning tone years ago but the effect of it had been well and truly pissed up the wall when he left all those years ago, even more so when he had the biggest piece of dirt on the man.

"I can respect that she is the Lady of Winterfell but I haven't done anything to her since I returned, I've barely batted an eyelid in her direction." He said as Ghost slowly walked up to him and licked his hand. He stroked his hand through his fur in thanks.

Ned sighed again "She thinks that you're being an unnecessary distraction and influence on the little ones, mainly to Arya and her lessons." He explained.

He carried on before Jon could even reply "Don't think we are chucking you out and expecting you to just fend for yourself, even though we know you can." He attempted to jape, Jon hadn't found anything Lord Stark said funny in years.

When he saw Jon's face his smile disappeared, he cleared his throat "Obviously the Night's Watch isn't an option, unless..." He said as he looked at Jon, fishing for a response.

He looked at Lord Stark with his eyebrows raised "Unless what? That one visit to see uncle Benjen made me want to get cosy with the murderers and rapists?" He shook his head and looked down at Ghost "It was one of the hardest decisions I've ever made, on one hand there was freedom with endless possibilities but in the other hand there was misery till the end of my days...bit like your marriage, eh." He japed as he elbowed Lord Stark in the arm, he didn't give the man chance to respond. "I decided on the freedom in the end, who knows what could happen..." He finished.

Lord Stark looked at him in annoyance with his answer probably more to do with the joke about his marriage than anything else.

He cleared his throat "As I was saying, the Night's Watch isn't an option, so I had to think of something else for you." He said.

"You could legitimise me and give me a castle or something to rule..." He blurted out. He didn't want that either but he couldn't help saying it to make him sweat.

Ned sighed "You know that's not an option Jon." He replied.

He shook his head and faked ignorance "Why not? You do trust me, don't you? I am your son am I not?" He asked, mainly for the reaction.

Lord Stark looked down so he couldn't see any facial giveaways.

Coward.

"Catelyn wouldn't allow it, and neither would House Tully. They would see you as a risk to any of your brother's inheritance. I'm sorry Jon." He answered.

He scoffed "Inheritance, what do I inherit from you, father?" He growled out. He didn't want anything from this man but a confession eventually.

"Jon..."

"Save it, we both know all I want from you is something your too cowardice to give me at the moment." He said, mainly to himself.

Ned looked down in shame.

Good.

"I promised that I will take care of you and that means finding you a purpose when you leave Winterfell." Ned said.

"Promised who? My mother?" He asked, he might be able to get some backstory here.

Unless he was lying like he always does.

Ned nodded "She asked me to take care of you when she handed you to me, to take you to your family. She...the birth was difficult for her and she wasn't capable of looking after you." He said, staring at the ground.

He didn't know if this was the truth or not, Lord Stark look gutted after telling him that and it made sense if these things actually did happen to his sister. He also realised that this was the most he'd ever spoken about his mother, ever.

He cleared his throat "She's dead, isn't she?" He asked even though he knew the answer.

Lord Stark just nodded.

He looked down at the ground himself, Ghost was sat there being a good boy so he gave him a stroke under his chin. It calmed him and helped him think. He felt sympathy for the man somewhat, he couldn't bear to think how he'd be if anything happened to Arya.

It didn't excuse his actions though, he wouldn't give him an out for what he'd done.

He looked back up at Ned "And her name?" He asked.

Would he finally confess?

Ned shook his head "Not now Jon." He quietly said.

Of course he wouldn't.

He took a deep breath and sighed "I think this conversation is over don't you." He said. He wasn't asking, as far as he was concerned, this was over.

"Wait Jon, we need to work out what you will do when you leave." Lord Stark rushed out.

The man had some fucking nerve.

He stood up from the log and straightened his gambeson, Ghost was already trotting away towards the entrance of the godswood. He turned and look at Lord Stark with indifference.

"Not now Lord Stark." Was all he said before walking off without looking back.

'We need to work out what you will do when you leave'.

I don't think Lord Stark would like what he did when he left.