Gratitude and Leaving Winterfell

"...Lord Stark, please, get up," I called out awkwardly as I looked down at the older Warden of the North. He'd come to kneel in front of me, saying his thanks, as soon as the sun rose.

Yet it was just awkward. This was a man who ruled the entirety of the North, pretty much, for Robert. He was a man who could raise tens of thousands of men up in arms if a bordering Land gave him cause to declare war.

And he was kneeling to me like no one's business. I was a prince, sure, but I was also someone who came from the 21st century - kneeling wasn't something I was innately used to like people in Westeros. It only ever came across as something so serious it turned situations awkward. But this didn't mean Ned Stark knew or understood this.

The man in question shook his head, "Nay, I've come to offer my gratitude for the service you provided my son, Bran," he continued with a solemn yet grateful tone, "His fever has already subsided and his health is accordingly on the rise. Maester Luwin said this is because of what you did and the medicine you provided. If I didn't show my thanks and gratitude, what kind of father would I be, Prince Tommen?" he questioned, looking up for a second before looking back down.

"Please, don't give me all the credit," I played it in a humble manner, "Your son is a strong boy. If he pulls through, it's because of himself. I only made it easier for him to make the journey to recovery."

Why was I being humble? Because if I told him fully how bad Bran's condition had been before I helped, I doubt he'd ever stop kneeling.

"Regardless of that, I thank you, Prince Tommen. I will remember this deed for as long as I live."

Nodding, I gestured for Ned to rise, "And I accept your thanks. You need not kneel any longer. It makes me uncomfortable to see my father's close friend kneeling in front of me - especially considering he is to be my father-in-law sometime in the future," I finally persuaded him with this and he rose from his kneeling position with a slight grunt of exertion.

Once he was fully stood, he actually offered me a smile before he put a gloved hand on my shoulder. It was quiet for a second or two before he finally spoke up, "I can rest easy knowing Sansa is going to be wed to such a man as you, Prince Tommen."

"You flatter me, Lord Stark," I smiled humbly, "I should be the one thanking you, if we think about it. Sansa is by far the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, I'm lucky to be engaged to her," I threw in some compliments to earn me some brownie points with my father-in-law to be and it seemed to work as he chuckled, his eyes filling somewhat with pride. No doubt as he thought about Sansa.

Seeming in a good mood, Ned gestured for me to follow him, "Come, Prince Tommen, eat with your father and I. I heard that you took down quite the Elk yesterday. Robb and Theon wouldn't stop spreading tales of how you felled it with a single throwing spear; even went as far as to call you a part-Giant," he told me, grinning as he saw me roll my eyes.

...They can't let that bloody line go, can they? Part-Giant this, Part-Giant that--Robb Stark is bloody obsessed with calling me a part-Giant.

"I'd love to," I nodded, "Lead the way then, Lord Stark."

And with that, he led me from the outside of where I was staying in Winterfell's guest hall, toward the personal hall of the Stark family.

Inside, I saw Robert sitting while drinking from a wineskin and surrounded by guards. Surprisingly, however, I also saw Catelyn Stark and Sansa sitting not too far from the King. When the two of them saw me, they both smiled - though for admittedly different reasons.

Catelyn held the same gratefulness as Ned, while Sansa's smile was bashful. Though even so, she kept eye contact with me which surprised me. Seeing this, it became clear to me that she was indeed different to her book/show version. There's a confidence to her and her eyes that she didn't have in either of those instances.

It's expected, I guess. She is a fully grown woman in this reality, and not a young child, so that is most likely the reason for such a change. Her mother has taught her all the things a highborn lady must possess.

Which means unlike the Sansa from the original series, this one isn't a shy little bird but a true Stark.

...That confidence only made her look all the more attractive to me.

Oblivious to my thoughts, the two Stark women stood as I and Ned approached. Sansa curtsied to me and so did Catelyn, however the latter also stepped up to me and took my hands in her own, clasping them together as if in prayer, "Prince Tommen, I didn't get a chance to thank you at all yesterday for what you did for Bran...thank you so very much, Milord. The Gods themselves know how grateful I am for your actions. They've given me peace of mind after such a horrible thing happened," her eyes went a little red around the edges but she didn't cry. She just continued smiling gratefully.

So much so that it almost made me feel a shred of guilt over getting thanked for helping Bran despite knowing that I could've stopped it but I squashed that feeling before it could grow and just smiled as I replied to her.

"Think nothing off it, Lady Stark," I said, smiling down at the shorter woman who looked like she wanted to say but stopped herself.

She let go of my hands and turned to guide me to the table covered in all sorts of meats. The most common one being Elk.

"Then please, Prince Tommen, sit and enjoy some food with us," she courteously spoke and I saw no reason to go against her directions and sat across from Catelyn and Sansa who were eating some porridge of sorts. A servant came over to me and carved up some Elk steak for me and gave me some buttered bread before bowing and walking away.

Pouring myself some water, I began cutting up the steak before placing it on the bread until I had an impromptu sandwich that I eagerly took a bite out of.

Despite all this, I kept etiquette up so as to not embarrass Robert or myself. But only the barest amount necessary. Not that it mattered all too much as I was surrounded by people who seemed to view me positively and just because I didn't act with the highest of manners wouldn't mean I'd start a war.

Not quite yet, anyway.

"May I ask about you hobbies, Prince Tommen?" Catelyn asked as she sipped at the spoon of porridge she'd brought to her mouth.

Swallowing the piece of food in my mouth with a mouthful of water, I nodded and poised myself to answer, "I mainly enjoy training with my weapons and reading. Though I am also known to frequent the royal kitchens to cook. It's a very calming endeavor for me unlike how it is for the royal chefs who always complain about the pressure of cooking for my father," I said, hearing Ned chuckle off to the side along with Robert, yet Catelyn looked somewhat surprised at my answer.

"Cooking?" she asked, "I must say that's surprising, Milord. You don't strike me as someone who'd cook for themselves--though I mean no offense by saying so," she kept a polite smile on her face as she spoke but it was clear to see the confusion in her expression.

Hearing her, I gave a wry smile, "No offense taken, Lady Stark," I placated her worries before carrying on, "If you ask my mother, you'd hear nothing but complaints about my younger days when I snuck into the kitchens to get tutored by the head chef," I laughed, feeling nostalgic, "But it's paid off, I assure you. I'm quite the cook, aren't I, father?" I looked to Robert who was stuffing his face with a chicken leg.

"Aye, he is!" his voice echoed through the hall as he removed the chicken leg from his mouth, showing his somewhat greasy beard and lips, "He made me a cake for my name day last year and he'd somehow cooked bloody wine into it! A few slices and I was as drunken as could be."

His words caused Ned, Catelyn and Sansa to all look at me with surprise to which I held up a hand to calm their surprise.

"He exaggerates," I chuckled, "I added wine to the batter when I was mixing it and found a way to make the frosting with a particularly strong liquor - it's hardly the work of a culinary genius," I told them the truth. In fact, when I first entered the kitchens to ask, I found out that alcohol was rarely used in cooking in Westeros. Which meant I could plagiarize a few recipes from Earth.

It worked pretty well. Who knew alcohol went so well with cake? I didn't. But it truly did add some nice flavors to it.

"Say, Sansa--May I call you Sansa?" I turned to her and she nodded with a small smile, "Sansa, what's you favorite dessert?"

"I'd say I enjoy Lemon Cakes the most, Prince Tommen," she replied, ignoring the sly smile and glances coming from her mother who seemed to know she was playing down her like for Lemon Cakes. If I remember correctly, it's canon that Sansa loves Lemon Cakes and eats them whenever she can. Seems that is one thing that hasn't changed.

Humming in understanding for a second, I drank another mouthful of water before answering, "I'm quite partial to them myself, if I'm honest. Which is good, because I have a decent amount of practice at making them. I'll make some for you when we arrive in King's Landing," I smilingly said.

Her eyes filled with anticipation but her words were the opposite as she shook her head, "I couldn't possibly ask for you to cook for me, Prince Tommen--"

I cut her off by reaching across the table and putting my hand on top of her hand that was resting on the table. Her skin was smooth, soft and slightly cold to the touch. A hand I wouldn't mind holding.

"Please, call me Tommen. It's only fair if I get to call you Sansa," I smiled, turning up the charm, before continuing, "And I'd enjoy to cook them for you. You needn't ask for it, Sansa. I'd do it willingly," I finished and I was pretty sure she was nearly swooning at this point. Yet despite her blushing face, she kept herself composed and replied in a somewhat higher pitched voice than usual.

"T-then I'll gratefully accept them when you make them...Tommen," she stuttered at the start but she spoke with more and more confidence, slowly coming out her shell.

Honestly, if I had to describe the atmosphere between us, it was like we'd almost forgotten that we weren't the only people in the room or at the table. Almost.

"Who does that remind you of, Ned? He got that charm from me. Especially that smile. I've wooed hundreds women with a smile like that," Robert's boisterous voice destroyed the atmosphere and I let out a mirthless chuckle as Ned gave what can only be described as a 'look' to his friend but shameless as Robert was, he didn't really care for it.

Turning to him, I raised an eyebrow, "Only hundreds? Last time it was thousands. Begs the question if next time it'll only be 'dozens' instead," I joked in good humor, earning an awkward smile from Catelyn and a laugh from Ned and Robert.

"Oi, I'll have your head for treason if you keep mocking your father and king like that!" Robert waved a chicken leg at me, his words serious but his tone obviously a joke.

Laughing, I turned back to Sansa and brought my hand back from where it'd been on top of hers. As the others were looking away from me, I gave a wink to her and she smiled a silly smile as she got back to eating the cooling porridge in her bowl. Though seconds later, after what looked like an expression of deep thought, I felt her leg brush against mine under the table.

Surprised, I raised an eyebrow at her and she gave a discrete smile of mischief before it disappeared. Smiling, I moved my own leg closer to her and we went back and forth like this, harmlessly flirting under the table.

It truly was surprising. I hadn't expected this from her because it could be considered unladylike.

...She really is different. I look forward to learning and figuring out all the things I don't know about.

. . .

It'd been a day since that game of footsie between Sansa and I, and we were leaving Winterfell now. Farewells were swapped between Catelyn and her daughters, while Robb said goodbye to Jon who was off to the Night's Watch and to his father who was going south to become Hand.

Cersei was already in her carriage with my younger siblings Kevan and Myrcella. She gave very concise goodbyes to Catelyn and hadn't even spoken to me since I'd helped Bran.

No doubt because that messed with her plans or whatever. She wanted him dead because he'd seen her and Jaime banging in the broken tower or whatever.

Parents, am I right?

Jokes aside, I was currently securing my saddle to my personal horse, a mare charger*, who I called Wisp because of the black splotches and spots that ran across the side of her white fur. She was a horse I'd personally picked and helped raise - she was fast and bloody fearless. I'd taken her to a tourney or two and she never flinched or tried to steer away from my opponent even when their own horse was riding quite close. Even well-trained horses get scared at points but Wisp hadn't. She was as brave as could be.

(*A/N - Charger's are a type of horse in Westeros. They're a type of warhorse that, as you might have expected already, charges at the enemy. They're slightly smaller than normal horses but they're much quicker. They're basically like war-versions of racehorses.)

As I thought this, Wisp began moving back and forth on her legs and I had to forcibly hold her in place - which wasn't exactly easy.

"Woah," I said as she neighed, shaking her head back and forth quite strongly. Letting go of the straps to the saddle, I moved up to her head and held it gently as I stroked her muzzle, "What's up, girl?" I whispered as I saw some of the other horses acting up a little.

Looking around I followed Wisp's eyes and the gazes of the other horses and saw the Stark's Direwolves sitting together and cleaning themselves.

They were bigger than they were in the show and they aren't even fully grown. Right now, they're about 1.4m tall - fully grown, they'd probably be around 1.7m/1.8m tall. Which was truly massive for a wolf and also meant an adult Direwolf could easily take down a horse and it seemed like the horses could tell.

Note to self, Wisp is fearless with other horses and humans but Direwolves are a no go.

"Come on, calm down, Wisp," I placed my forehead against hers, stroking her muzzle in a slow and gentle manner. Slowly but surely, she stopped pacing back and forth, and her panicked breathing went back to the slow and methodical breathing it usually was.

As I had my eyes closed and was focused on calming Wisp, I didn't sense Catelyn walking up next to me until the last second and by that point, she was already speaking, "...You're quite gentle with animals, aren't you?"

Opening my eyes, I turned to Catelyn, "I guess so," I admitted with a nod, "There's no need to be mean to them, is there? If you're using an animal for something like riding, it's the least you can do to be gentle and understanding with it."

"I must admit my first impression of you was a wrong one, Prince Tommen," she smiled apologetically before shaking her head and offering an effigy toward me, "That as it may, please take this with you while you travel. It's a good luck charm for you travels." I took the effigy and saw it was indeed one for good luck but Catelyn wasn't done speaking just yet, "I must ask you to please look after Sansa while she's with you, Prince Tommen. She's a smart girl but she hasn't experienced as much of the world as she thinks she has."

Seeing the sincere pleading of a worried mother, I gave her a reassuring nod, "I'll do what it takes to keep her safe, Lady Stark, you needn't worry about that at least."

My reassurance seemed to ease some of Catelyn's worries and she gave a small smile.

"Then I will be able to rest a little easier over the coming months," she let out a sigh before stopping herself from anything further, "Would you listen to me? You don't need to hear about this old woman's troubles," she shook her head and forced a smile to cover her remaining worry, "I bid you farewell and a safe journey back to King's Landing, Prince Tommen," she curtsied before taking leave.

Seeing her leave and that Wisp had calmed down, I walked back to the side of my horse and continued securing the saddle before realizing I was still holding the effigy I'd been given.

"...You'd have done better to keep that for yourself, Lady Stark," I mumbled under my breath, putting the effigy into a satchel attached to the saddle.