Chapter 4: The Black Wolf

Ned and Torrhen had pretty much shut themselves into Ned's solar for a week after their conversation in the crypts. Documents and parchment were everywhere, as the pair went into detail about Torrhen's past life. They had finally come on to the Third Battle of Winterfell, and Ned was still heartbroken at the thought of three battles outside of his castle.

"Stannis thought that he could repair his reputation with a victory against House Bolton." Torrhen began explaining, remembering speaking with Ser Davos Seaworth on the matter. "But his forces were unused to the snow, he couldn't convince any of the Northerners to join him and he sacrificed his own daughter to the flames. He was no King to inspire loyalty, Father."

"Was?" Ned asked.

Torrhen shrugged. "From everything you say about him I believe that he was corrupted by the demands of the war and the Red Woman. Without her, and he will likely be different." Ned nodded. "Then of course, there was my own battle for Winterfell."

Ned grimaced, Torrhen had spared no detail in his campaign in the North, and he wasn't too keen on some of the gruesome things that his son had had to do, burning Lady Dustin inside her own castle and murdering a boy of 15 to end his house among the worst, but he too had had to do some horrid things in wars, and it was partially his fault that the North had been left in such a state. He shook his head. "You planned that well, as it seems you did the third."

Ned picked up the drawing of Winterfell's defences and studied it well. "I had help." Torrhen admitted. "The finest minds still alive to us at that time all combined there and it still wasn't enough."

Ned pursed his lips. "This time will be different. We'll have more experienced commanders, armies from all over Westeros."

Torrhen nodded. "And more Dragonglass." He commented.

"Dragonglass kills White Walkers?" Ned asked to reaffirm.

"Aye, and the wights." Torrhen added. "And Stannis Baratheon sits atop a mountain of it. We barely scratched the surface and could wield enough for a hundred thousand men, women and children. Imagine what we could do with 10 years' worth of mining?"

Ned could imagine it. "Once the North is in order and aware of what is due to happen, I'll have to go South and talk to Stannis."

Torrhen didn't look happy. "We don't do well in the South, Father."

"But I shall have you there with me to guide me through who is trustworthy and who is not." Ned said firmly. "I will not leave my family in such a situation again, I will never trust the South as long as I live, but we need them."

"Aye." Torrhen said grimly. "We do."

The door burst open then, and Cat walked in, her eyes narrow at the pair of them. "A week." She said strongly. "A week you both have been shut away in here with no words but requests for food. Are you going to explain why?"

Ned and Torrhen looked at one another guiltily. "Apologies, Catelyn." Ned said, walking over to her and taking her hands in his. "I will explain everything soon. Things are complicated right now though, I need time to work things through."

Cat looked around at the room, and her voice changed from firm to almost pleading. "You look like you're planning for war." She whispered. "What don't I know? What's going on?"

"Soon." Ned promised.

Cat nodded. "You need to go and change into some fresh clothes and have a wash anyway, both of you." She added more firmly to Torrhen. "Our scouts have spotted Reed banners two hours away."

Torrhen was confused but smiled. "Lord Howland." He said fondly. "We need to prepare for their arrival, offer them suitable…" Ned cleared his throat loudly, still not truly used to the 'King' that his son had become. "Apologies. I forgot myself."

"Quite." Cat said, confused herself.

"He's right though, have you prepared rooms for our guests?" Ned asked. Cat nodded. "Very well. Come, Torrhen. We can come back to this another time."

Torrhen nodded his understanding and walked out of the room towards his own chambers. Cat soon followed, and Ned was the last out of the room, locking the door behind him.

Two hours later and Ned was lined up with Cat, Robb and Torrhen waiting for their guests to arrive. Torrhen was eager to see Howland again, even if the man didn't remember him. He looked around and saw Arya, Jon and Bran all crammed together looking out of a window in the Main Keep.

The gates to the main castle soon opened, and in walked a handful of the small Crannogman. Torrhen recognised Howland Reed, and guessed that the boy and girl at either side were his children. Other than that, there were only a couple of guards and Jory Cassell.

"Howland, my friend." Ned greeted. Howland dropped to one knee, as did the rest of his party.

"Lord Stark, I am here to answer your letter in person." Howland said, his head facing the ground.

"Enough of that old friend." Ned insisted, bidding Howland to rise. "How was your journey?"

"Well enough, summer does the Kingsroad kindly." Howland smiled. He turned to Catelyn. "Lady Catelyn, a pleasure to see you once more."

Cat offered out her hand for Howland to kiss it. "It must have been the day of my wedding, was it not?" She asked.

Howland nodded. "A fine day, in the most terrible of times."

Ned gestured to the two Stark boys in the line. "My son and heir, Robb." He introduced. "And my second son, Torrhen."

Howland greeted them both kindly, but no more than that. "My son and heir, Jojen." He gestured to the skinny boy. "And my daughter, Meera."

"You are all welcome in Winterfell." Ned insisted. "Torrhen, could you escort Lord Howland's children to their chambers? Lord Reed and I have a lot of catching up to do."

"Of course, Father." Torrhen nodded, gesturing for the pair to follow him. They had barely made it into the castle when Jojen had spoken.

"You're the one." He said mystically. "The Wolf out of time. The Black Wolf."

Torrhen stopped and turned to Jojen, narrowing his eyes. "I don't know what you mean." He said unconvincingly.

"My brother has dreams." Meera explained.

"They used to be of a chained wolf, that broke free and flew." Jojen explained. "But when Father got your letter..."

"His dreams changed." Meera finished.

Torrhen knew that Jojen was a Greenseer from Bran. "You have the greensight?" He asked for pretence.

Jojen nodded. "I do."

"What do you see now?" Torrhen asked.

Jojen took a deep breath. "I see the Black Wolf." He said simply. "South and west and north and east the Black Wolf will go. He will see Kings rise and Kings fall, until Winter itself trembles at its presence."

The very thought chilled Torrhen. "And you think I am the Black Wolf?"

"It was your sigil in the other world." Jojen mentioned, and Torrhen looked sharply at Jojen. He pushed the boy into the wall and held his arm up against Jojen's neck, not putting any pressure on just yet.

"Stop!" Meera cried, but Torrhen held firm.

"What do you know of that?" Torrhen growled.

Jojen was calm despite his position. "I know that the first will reveal themselves soon, once you have opened your eyes."

Torrhen pressed his arm in and felt Meera clawing at his back. When he stared into Jojen's eyes he couldn't see any lies in them and released him. Jojen started coughing and Meera ran to him. "His dreams aren't exact. We can't interpret them properly." She snapped at him.

"I apologise." Torrhen sighed. "But… nobody knows what happened to me. Nobody but my Father."

"All I can tell is that 6 will join you from all corners of the world." Jojen said, unphased by what had just happened. "All with roles to play in the wars to come… But first you must go on a journey, there is one more dream that I believe is for you…"

While Torrhen showed the Reed children to their rooms, Ned escorted Howland up to his solar. Unlocking the door, the crannogman laughed at the state of the place. "You were always so organised." He jested lightly as one of his men placed a chest down in the doorway before leaving and closing it behind him

"It is testing times." Ned sighed. "The letter I sent you…" Howland retrieved it from his frog skin cloak. "I believe it all now."

Howland was surprised. "It seems too much of a far-fetched tale for you to believe, Ned." He admitted.

"He knows about the Tower." Ned said quietly. "He knows about Lyanna, Rhaegar. All of it."

Howland was unphased. "Jojen is a Greenseer, you know what that means?"

Ned nodded. "I thought they were myths."

Shaking his head, Howland explained. "The sight is more common in the Neck, it's partially why we can be in the right place to catch information passing through the causeway and elsewhere, but Jojen has it stronger than even my Father did."

"Your Father had it?" Ned asked.

"But I didn't." Howland explained. "That's why I went to the Gods Eye before Harrenhal, I wanted to see if it could be taught. Unfortunately not."

Ned leaned back in his chair. "That all seems so long ago now." He admitted.

"If Jojen is right, then worse is yet to come." Howland sighed. "How is the boy?"

"Still unaware." Ned said quickly, not wanting to stay on the topic.

"He will need to know, Ned." Howland told him. "Dark times are coming, and he is the Prince that was Promised, Jojen's sight confirms it."

Ned's final talk with Ashara Dayne came to mind. "That's a myth." He whispered.

"He has seen your son, Torrhen in his dreams." Howland explained. "He has also seen a grey dragon."

The colours of his sigil and the animal of Rhaegar's, Ned didn't miss the connection. "What has he seen of Jon?"

"He saw him wielding a family blade with a ruby hilt, fighting against the cold." Howland explained. He walked over and unlocked the chest, bringing out a long, clothed object. "There's only one blade I know of that matches the description and the legends."

He uncovered the cloth, and Ned swore. "Put that thing away." He hissed. "You swore a vow to keep it in the Neck."

"This is bigger than us now, Ned." Howland explained, laying Dark Sister on the table. "When I agreed to keep it hidden, we didn't expect to ever need it again. But with what is coming we need every Valyrian Steel blade we can get."

Ned could barely look at the sword. "He's not ready to know."

"But things are moving fast, and by the time he is ready, you will know what to do." Howland explained. "Jojen has promised me that the blade will be wielded by a dragon in the battle to come."

"What else has Jojen promised you?" Ned asked, defeated.

Howland sat himself down too. "That the Black Wolf will speak with the Gods themselves and will start us down a path of salvation."

Ned didn't understand. "Speak with the Gods? That's impossible… what does it mean?"

"It means." A voice came from behind Howland, and Torrhen stood in the doorway. "That I must travel to the Isle of Faces and converse with the Green Men. That I will learn what I must about what happened to me, and what I must do."

Together with Howland and Ned, Torrhen had come up for a perfect excuse for both his trip, and any potential knowledge of the future that needed to be spread to those that didn't need to know of Torrhen's past life. He was now unofficially a Greenseer.

At the feast that night, Torrhen spent most of his time huddled in a corner with Jojen going over all the useful information that he needed to convince people that he was a Greenseer himself, and less than a week later he felt ready to travel Southwards. He'd been given his own steel sword by his Father and a warm wolfskin cloak by his Mother, and he was just putting some final items into the sack that would be attached to his horse.

A knock at the door interrupted him as he was folding a spare shirt, and in came Sansa holding something covered in a white covering. "Hello." She said softly in the doorway.

"Come in." Torrhen smiled, as he placed the shirt in the sack.

"You're really leaving then." She said disheartened. Torrhen nodded, sitting himself on the bed and facing her.

"These… visions." He lied, hating having to do this to his twin but knowing she wouldn't understand otherwise yet. "They've been eating me away. Lord Reed has spent time on the Isle of Faces and believes that they can help me control it. I have to try."

"Why can't I come with you then?" Sansa insisted sulkily. "We've never been apart for more than a few days before."

Torrhen chuckled as she sat down heavily on the bed beside him. He placed his arm around her shoulders and let her head rest on him. "You'd hate it." He told her. "We're to sleep under the stars, not in castles. It'll be a hard ride."

Sighing dramatically as she did often, Sansa said. "I know, but it's still annoying. I always wanted to go to the South and you always wanted to just stay in Winterfell, now you're going off on an adventure and I'm stuck here having to listen to Arya whine about not being able to do boy things."

Torrhen chuckled. "You'll be fine sister. I'll be back before long."

Sansa nodded and stood back up. "Anyway, I've got some presents for you." She handed him the bundle in her hands. Torrhen took away the cloth to see that it was a modified Stark banner. "Father said that one day you would have your own holdfast and castle, and that you would need a different banner to Robb because of it, so I made you one."

He placed the rest of the bundle down on the bed and unfurled it properly. His breath caught in his mouth as it was the same as his old one, the jet black Direwolf's head on a field of white. "I love it." He whispered.

"And then there's a gift from all the rest of us." Sansa smiled. "Robb, Jon, Arya and Bran." Torrhen noticed the bundle was the leather armour of his house, again dyed a jet black. "Robb overheard Jojen talking about the Black Wolf and thinking it was you, and Arya remembered the story of Mother's uncle Brynden."

A tear dropped from Torrhen's eye as the memories filled him. "I love them." He whispered. He placed the armour down and gripped his sister in a fierce hug, which she reciprocated. "Thank you."

They held one another for the longest time before Sansa let go. Torrhen sniffed his tears away and looked back at the armour, He took his shirt off, which freaked Sansa out, as she squealed. "Not in front of me!" And she ran out the door, slamming it behind her.

Torrhen chuckled as he started stripping down and putting the armour on, specially fitted for his youthful body perfectly. Once he had tightened his new sword belt on properly, he turned to look at his reflection in the window. Nodding at the now familiar sight of his younger body mixed with the old look of his black armour, he closed his chest and prepared to leave Winterfell.