Chapter 10: The Direwolf and the Weirwood

The Starks had a brief moment of calmness before the masses of people arrived, and Torrhen had decided to spend a bit of time in the library, having missed the majority of the books that had burned when Bran was attacked so many years ago to him. He was extremely surprised to find Sansa already there alone, sat reading 'The Flayed Man: A History of the Red King's'.

"That's an awfully grim book for one so fair to be reading." Torrhen noted with a grin at his sister.

Sansa nodded, looking slightly ill. "I thought I should read up on House Bolton, as I'm due to become one. I didn't realise that the history was so…"

"Brutal?" Torrhen asked, growing more serious. Sansa nodded. "That is why your match is so important. Our houses have warred for thousands of years."

"But the flaying?" Sansa gulped. "The cloak of skins?"

Torrhen smiled reassuringly and closed the book for Sansa. "Rumours, that's all."

"I'm just worried." Sansa admitted. "What if I can't be strong enough, what if I displease Lord Roose and he flays me?"

"Flaying is outlawed." Torrhen said quickly. "And he wouldn't dare, for he will know that if even one hair on your head is harmed then I would ride over there and cut him down where he stood."

Sansa was alarmed at his sincerity but appreciated the sentiment anyway. "You are just one boy, Torrhen."

Torrhen shook his head. "I am a Stark of Winterfell, as are you. And as long as the pack remains united then none can harm us."

Sansa just sighed. "I just hope I can be a good Lady."

Torrhen grinned at her. "I had a vision." He told her, knowing full well it was her other self that he was about to talk about. "Where a certain Lady Sansa of Winterfell managed to unite an army of 20,000 mounted knights to protect her home. She became their leader and they respected her because of her wisdom and her heart." He held her hand. "One day you will break the shackles of childhood sweet sister and you shall rise greater than you can ever imagine. You are more than enough for the likes of Domeric Bolton. I fear it will be you leading him, not the other way around."

Sansa had a large smile at Torrhen's words. "You really think I can do it?"

"I pity the man that tries to stop you." Torrhen said honestly.

Half a dozen houses had already arrived at Winterfell when another call went up. Minor Houses from the Wolfswood such as House Woods, Branch and Bole were joined at the great stronghold by other Houses close to Winterfell, like House Cerwyn, House Tallhart and House Hornwood, and Torrhen had been entertaining Lord Halys Hornwood and his son Daryn when the horns sounded, and the call of 'Forrester' went up. Excusing himself Torrhen raced towards the North Gate, almost knocking over one of the washerwomen in the process.

He made it to the battlements in time to see the small party arriving, no more than a dozen members of the group. The black banners with a white Weirwood tree were growing more visible each second, and Torrhen couldn't help but feel an immense sense of guilt. He heard footsteps stop beside him and Torrhen wasn't surprised to see Robb standing there.

"It wasn't your fault you know." Robb told him.

"Most of them died because they were linked to me." Torrhen shook his head. "Rodrik, Asher, Mira. Ethan and Talia. All because of me."

"And Lord Gregor died following me. You were left in that position because of me." Robb reminded Torrhen.

Shaking his head, Torrhen argued. "You were betrayed…"

"And you were fighting a losing battle against House Bolton alone." Robb insisted, turning and holding the back of Torrhen's head. "It is more my fault than yours that those men died, and I'm living with that every night now."

"Robb…"

"Enough." Robb said, a weak smile on his face. "Go and greet Mira, you've waited long enough."

Torrhen laughed bitterly. "She won't remember me as anything but the child that stole a kiss in the Godswood. None of my memories with her will count for anything. How am I to act?"

Robb leaned down so that he was at eye level with his younger brother. "If you say she felt the same way as you, then you'll know as soon as you see her."

Torrhen grinned and clasped Robb's shoulder in a parting, he turned and ran back down to the courtyard by the North Gate and stood in line with Ned.

Moments later, riders came through the gates. Lord Gregor rode front and centre with Rodrik and Ethan beside him, while Mira was further back. As soon as Torrhen saw her he couldn't take his eyes off of her, drinking in every feature of her face.

"Act properly." Ned whispered to him. "You'll see her later on at the feast."

Torrhen gulped and nodded, but his grey eyes met her deep blue ones, and she smiled fondly. Torrhen smiled back but had to be stoic once again as the party dismounted. Lord Gregor led the Ironrath party to stand before Ned and Torrhen and the Lord of Ironrath was the first among them to kneel. The rest soon followed.

"Lord Stark, I have answered your summons and pledge my undying loyalty to you and yours." He spoke formally.

"Rise, Gregor." Ned waved his hand, and quickly enough they all did. "It's been what, two years?"

Gregor nodded. "Aye about that. You remember my heir, Rodrik?" Ned shook Rodrik Forrester's hand firmly, and Rodrik smirked over at Torrhen, shaking his hand too. "My second son, Ethan."

Torrhen's old friend then stepped forwards and Ned offered him the same greeting as Rodrik. Torrhen meanwhile hugged the boy quickly. "My friend, it's good to see you once more."

"And you, Lord Torrhen." Ethan bowed his head.

"None of that, not to me." Torrhen insisted.

Gregor then moved to introduce Mira. "And my daughter, Mira."

She was so close now and Torrhen's breath caught in his mouth. Ned kissed her hand. "A pleasure, My Lady."

"Thank you for inviting me to Winterfell once again, Lord Stark." Mira curtseyed. Her eyes locked with Torrhen's, and the Stark boy was surprised to find relief shimmering in her eyes. "Torrhen." She whispered.

Torrhen formally took her hand and kissed it, his lips lingering. "As beautiful as always, My Lady."

"You are among the first here." Ned explained. "Come, we will show you to your chambers." He spotted Sansa walking along with Jeyne Poole and called her over. Sansa ran towards them, and Ned asked. "Would you take Lady Mira over to her chambers?" Torrhen was a bit disappointed that he couldn't have done so, but propriety was key if they wanted to convince all the Northerners that the threats were real, and so he bit any form of response. Sansa just smiled and offered her arm out for Mira, who took it with a final look over at Torrhen and walked away. "We're keeping the noble ladies in a separate part of the castle as theirs fewer of them." Ned explained. "Come, we shall escort the rest of you to your quarters."

Torrhen was the one to show the guards to the barracks and he did so dutifully. All the while though his mind was on the girl that had been on his mind for years.

House Glover arrived a few hours after the Forrester's, and a large feast was held to honour the house that governed over the Wolfswood. Lord Galbart Glover had the high table, conversing with Ned and Catelyn about something that Torrhen couldn't hear.

The young Stark himself was stood to the side, not really joining in the festivities but keeping a watchful eye on the room. He spotted Mira laughing at something Sansa was saying and smiled. Robb was talking with Rodrik Forrester and Daryn Hornwood, and Torrhen could hear his brother's deep laughter from where he was standing.

His eyes wandered further around the room. Gregor Forrester was catching up with other vassals of House Glover, such as Benjicot Branch and Noseless Ned Woods. Halys Hornwood was arm wrestling Ser Rodrik and Arya was chasing Bran around the room. Chuckling softly, Torrhen didn't hear footsteps coming to join him.

"She's excited to see you too, you know." Ethan Forrester told him. Torrhen turned to his former friend and grinned at seeing him, the thought of Ramsay Snow's knife in Ethan's chest moving to the back of his mind.

"Ethan." Torrhen greeted.

"Hello Torrhen." Ethan smiled back, before his gaze turned to his older sister. "She's only acting properly because she wants to prove herself to the other Lords."

Torrhen was confused. "Why does she need to prove herself?"

Ethan looked at him blankly. "You're a Stark, you wouldn't understand…" The Forrester boy said not unkindly. "We're not a big house, Tor, but we aren't stupid. You've been writing Mira letters and suddenly she is requested to come to Winterfell with my Father?"

"And?" Torrhen pushed.

"Do you know what an honour it would be to get a marriage with House Stark?" Ethan asked. "It just doesn't happen for Houses like mine."

Torrhen tried to remember his House history. "We've married with Mountain Clans before… Mormont's, Locke's."

"And also Manderly's, Blackwood's, Karstark's and Tully's." Ethan countered, reminding Torrhen how smart the boy was. "All of the houses you mentioned are at least twice as powerful as us. My Father is just cautious, he knows what the other Houses would think, as does Mira."

Torrhen shook his head. "You needn't worry, Ethan."

"But we do." Ethan sighed. "Mira isn't worried either, but Father doesn't want to seem like we're being too ambitious based on a spark from two years ago."

Torrhen appreciated the warning. "I promise, it will all be ok." Torrhen insisted. He turned back to the room where some tables were being cleared to make way for a dancefloor, and Catelyn was being spun around by Galbert Glover. "I'll make sure of it." He moved through the crowds and made his way over to the table where Sansa was entertaining the young women of Winterfell. More people were joining the dancing thankfully as a hearty Northern jig was beginning, and Torrhen held his hand out to Mira. "A dance, My Lady?"

He heard Jeyne Poole giggling into Sansa's shoulder, but Mira just smiled and nodded. "If you'll excuse me, Lady Sansa?" She asked politely. Sansa nodded, beaming, and Mira stood herself up and took Torrhen's hand. "It took you long enough." She muttered.

"Propriety…" Torrhen began as he placed a hand on her waist.

"When have you cared about propriety?" Mira chuckled. Her smile fell and she stared up into his grey eyes as they began to follow the steps. "I know what happened to you." She told him.

Torrhen didn't have time to be surprised, as they both parted and began clapping as Catelyn dragged Robb into the centre of the dancefloor to dance with her. Once that was over, the pairs re-joined and Torrhen asked. "What happened to me?"

"The old man showed me it all after I was executed." Mira whispered gently. "Your Grace."

He was speechless. He grabbed her hand tightly and moved her over to the corner of the room, to give them enough privacy to talk but so they were still in view of everybody. "You can't say that." Torrhen whispered frantically. "If the wrong people hear…"

"I know." Mira insisted, laying a hand on his chest. "But I needed to tell you that I know it all… I'm the same as you, Tor."

'You will not be alone' the old man had told him that day at the Weirwood Tree 'But only death pays for life'

"Oh no…" Torrhen whispered. "What happened? Who died?" Mira initially showed surprise. "Death pays for life."

Mira's head dropped. "Asher… We got the news just before we left. He died in Lys fighting against a man they called the Scourge. I know you were close."

Closer than Mira had been towards the end for sure, but he was still her brother, Torrhen realised. "I'm so sorry." He whispered. "This is all my fault."

Mira hit him lightly on the chest. "Don't you dare blame yourself. This is down to the Gods and the Gods alone."

Torrhen sighed. "I sent him to his death before… now he's dead again."

Mira shook her head. "We all made decisions back there, and not all of them turned out for the better." She smiled sadly up at him. "I will forever miss Asher and mourn that I never got to see him once again, but we have a second chance now, Tor. We can punish the Lannisters before they ruin our lives again."

Torrhen agreed. "We're already planning, Mira. My Father knows about me, as does my Mother and Robb. We won't lose again, Mira. I promise."

"And then afterwards?" She asked. "What about the dead?"

Torrhen hadn't realised that she knew about what had happened after her death and was taken aback. "What do you know?" He asked.

"I saw it all." Mira admitted. "I saw you taking back Winterfell. I saw your son… I saw you die, Tor. I saw it all."

Torrhen was speechless. "How?"

"The old man." She told him. "He took me through it all to help me to understand you."

Torrhen nodded, sighing dramatically. "Then you know why it is so important to me that nothing like that happens again. We must be ready for Winter, for it will come with a vengeance."

Mira said nothing but took his hand in her own and gripped it tightly. Torrhen responded in kind, mourning his old friend Asher, but vowing to himself to protect all those that remained close to him from the coming storm.

The next morning, while the majority of the castle was nursing sore heads Ned had invited Gregor Forrester into his solar. Before the minor Lord arrived Ned had made sure to clear up any papers that were of sensitive information and had kept only his plans for Moat Cailin and the Northern Fleet on his desk.

There was a knock on the door and Jory Cassel popped his head through the door. "Lord Forrester here to see you, Lord Stark."

"Send him in, Jory." Ned commanded, and the aging Lord Forrester entered the solar. "Gregor, have a seat." He pointed to the seat in front of the desk.

"Why do I feel like I've been misbehaving, and my Father has sent for me." Gregor jested.

Ned chuckled at that. "Don't worry, I'd like to think that this will be a good discussion. Firstly though, I was truly sorry to hear about Asher."

Gregor bowed his head shamefully. "Exiling him should have been the hardest thing I have ever done, and I hate that it was an easy choice. Still, he shouldn't have died so far away from home."

Ned remembered well the troubles between House Forrester and Whitehill and the almost war that happened a few years ago. "We shall drink to him now." He said kindly, offering Gregor an ale. They touched their glasses together and drank deeply. Ned then asked. "I trust that you will be able to keep your cool in case of any taunting? I will warn Ludd personally, but I understand your feud well enough to know that my words mean little."

Gregor's eyes darkened. "It was Ludd's daughter that caused the exile in the first place. If he is to say something I will hold my tongue, but I shan't like it My Lord."

"I understand." Ned said quickly. "But this gathering, while unprecedented also requires the entire North to be on board, and Roose and his vassals are always the trickiest to deal with. I'm hoping that my proposals are enough for him."

"Proposals, My Lord?" Gregor asked.

Ned nodded. "For the first time in history a Stark has proposed a marriage with a Bolton. If Roose agrees, Sansa shall marry his heir, Domeric."

Gregor was smart enough to see the danger of such a move. "My Lord, forgive me for speaking ill of the man, but you know what Roose Bolton will think?"

"I do." Ned nodded. "He will likely see it as a chance to get Winterfell into Bolton hands, but while House Stark remains strong and I have four healthy sons, he will have to settle for a marriage. For you, however, I propose more."

"More?"

Ned pushed the Moat Cailin plans in front of Gregor. "I want to completely rebuild the Moat. For too long the only defence of the North has been left in disrepair, and if some of the things that I fear are coming to pass happen, then we will be in sore need of it."

Gregor looked over the plans. "9 towers?"

"Like the old Crown of Winter itself." Ned explained. "A fortress that can defend the North from all those below the Neck, and also the South from the North if needed."

"Why would that be needed?" Gregor asked.

Ned sighed. "Winter is coming, those are my family words. It warns us that Winter is always around the corner and we must be ready, but why did my ancestor choose that wording? White Walker's and wights are but legends, but nowhere in the legends did they say that we defeated them for good."

"My Lord…" Gregor said.

"I know, it sounds like folly." Ned chuckled. "But I can't ignore the possibility. You will know well enough that there is an increase in deserters from the Wall, and even Wildling incursions have grown. What has them so scared? I have to be ready, in the slim chance that something is coming from our North."

Gregor nodded. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want House Forrester Ironwood for the fortress. I want House Forrester Ironwood for a fleet." Ned told him. "I would have Torrhen wed Mira to forge a binding alliance between our two houses. Robb will marry a Manderly, and together our three Houses can ensure the North is as strong as it has ever been."

Gregor stood up and knelt immediately. "My Lord. You honour me too much."

"Stand up, Gregor." Ned said with a rare smile. "Your Ironwood is famed throughout the realm, and you have always been a loyal friend to House Stark."

Gregor did as he was bid. "I fear though, the dowry will be pitiful."

"This is why I wished to speak to you in person." Ned explained. "I understand your reservations My Lord. Which is why I do not seek gold for a dowry, but an agreement. Agree to aid with the construction of the Moat and the Fleet, and I shall be happy enough."

"Ironwood for my daughter?" Gregor asked.

"Ironwood to give your daughter all the protection she will need as the future Lady of Moat Cailin." Ned corrected. "Torrhen will be granted the castle, so if Mira weds him…"

"She will be the Lady." Gregor finished. "My Lord, this is a lot to process." He chuckled.

Ned appreciated that. "Do this and I shall see what I can do about expanding your own lands to encompass the rest of the Ironwood forest. I shall speak with Lord Bolton himself."

Gregor grinned. "That will frustrate Ludd greatly." He thought for a moment. "Very well. I accept, Lord Stark. My Mira will marry your boy and we shall do our utmost to produce the finest Ironwood for Moat Cailin."

Ned grinned and stood to clasp Gregor's hand, firmly shaking it. "You have no idea how much my plans were depending on your agreement. Thank you, Gregor."

Gregor was a bit flustered and picked up the Moat Cailin plans again. "This is a great fortress, Lord Stark. Are we really preparing for war so soon? Who are we fighting?"

Ned looked grim, and his eyes darted to the map of Westeros on the wall. "I wish I knew, Gregor."