16. Unexplained

Oren barely understood what was happening. Panic and drunkenness clouded his mind as a sword swung toward his hand. It was Ser Barristan holding the blade. Instinctively, Oren stumbled back, narrowly avoiding the strike. His heart raced as he fell hard onto the floor, the room spinning around him. Gritting his teeth, he quickly stood up, but Ser Barristan attacked again. This time, the sword sliced into Oren's side, drawing blood. Pain shot through him, but he didn't stop.

Groaning, Oren pulled out his own sword. But before he could lift it, another blade came flashing through the air. It was Ned Stark. His strike was swift and precise, cutting off Oren's hand at the wrist. Oren's sword dropped to the ground, and blood poured from the wound as he stumbled back.

Oren froze, breathing heavily. He looked at Ned and Ser Barristan, realizing what they both already knew—he wasn't going to leave the room alive. A twisted smile spread across his bloodied face as he began to laugh loudly with year almost coming out of his eyes.

"I'll die," he said, his voice rough and filled with madness "but only on my terms."

Before Ned or Barristan could stop him, Oren bit down on something hidden in his mouth—a poison capsule. His body shook violently as the poison worked quickly, killing him in seconds. He collapsed to the floor, with a creepy smile still on his face.

Ned sighed as he wasn't able to stop before Oren killed himself. His grip on his sword tightened as he stared at Oren's lifeless body. "Poison," he spoke with disgust. "He had it ready all along. He knew this day would come."

Ser Barristan sheathed his sword, his expression serious. "A coward's way out, but it worked. Now we'll get no answers from him."

Ned frowned and turned toward the window, his voice quieter. "He was too good at his act. If not for me knowing Jory personally, it would have been quite difficult to find anything wrong with him....and the name Oren was the final stroke, sealing his fate—signing the warrant of his death."

He let out another sigh, turning away from Oren's lifeless body as his thoughts went back to Stannon's strange dreams. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that Stannon's dreams held a deeper meaning—one that went far beyond mere forewarning.

"Ser Barristan," Ned spoke, lowering his voice to a mere whisper. "Stannon's dreams about Jory and everything that's unfolding... it must stay a secret, for his own safety. Except for Robert and Jon we cannot let anyone know, not even a whisper."

Barristan met Ned's eyes, his face serious. He understood the importance of what was being said. "I agree, my lord. If the wrong people find out, it could bring unnecessary danger to the prince. I've seen how rumors can twist things and put someone in danger. Keeping it a secret is the best choice."

Ned's face grew troubled as he looked down. "I'm starting to think Stannon's dreams aren't just dreams. The things he feels, the warnings he gives—they're too real, too accurate. You saw what happened with Oren. Maybe the boy has been given some kind of gift. The gods must be involved somehow."

Barristan nodded solemnly. "It's a real possibility, my lord. The strange things at his birth—the storm, the early-blooming flowers, the stars aligning—those were not ordinary events. And now these dreams, these warnings... they could be part of something bigger. Maybe Stannon was chosen for something important, and these dreams are the gods' way of preparing him for what's to come. If the gods want him to survive, they will give him the tools he needs."

Ned looked out the window, deep in thought. "I've always believed in the gods, in the old stories. But to think something like this could be real... it's overwhelming. But if Stannon is blessed, we must protect him above all else."

Ser Barristan nodded, fully agreeing with Ned's plan. He understood the seriousness of what they were dealing with. Stannon's dreams, if they were truly messages from the gods, meant that something much bigger was happening, something beyond what they could fully comprehend.

Ned looked at Oren's lifeless body for a moment, then turned his attention back to Ser Barristan. "Jory... he deserves a grand funeral. He was a loyal knight. The people need to know he was someone who fought for what was right. We'll give him the funeral he deserves."

Ser Barristan's face softened at the mention of Jory. "Jory was a man of honor, my lord," he spoke sincerely.

Ned took a deep breath, the weight of his responsibilities heavy on his shoulders.

Ned turned to the door and called for his guards. "Come in, clear the room. Take this body and burn it. Leave no trace behind."

The guards quickly entered, carrying out their lord's order. Ned ordered them again before leaving. "Prepare for Jory Cassel's funeral funeral. It must be a grand one. He deserves that respect."

Ned turned to Ser Barristan, looking tired but determined. "Ser Barristan, I think you've done enough for today. You should go to your room and rest. It's been a long day for all of us."

Ser Barristan nodded quietly, his eyes showing the weight of everything that had happened. "As you wish, my lord," he replied softly.

With that, Barristan left the room, leaving Ned to his thoughts. It was a restless night, filled with more questions than answers. But for now, Ned knew he had to focus on what was important—keeping Stannon safe and getting ready for Jory's funeral.

.

..

...

Jory's funeral took place the next day, but there was no body to bury. The people of Winterfell gathered in the Great Hall, filled with sorrow. It was painful for everyone to remember that Jory had died without his body being recovered. Still, the funeral was grand, as Ned Stark had promised. Flags flew high in his honor, and torches lit the room, as everyone mourned.

Among the crowd was Stannon, standing quietly. His face showed grief, but he held himself tall, his eyes fixed on the ceremony. Everything felt unreal, like he was watching from far away. He had lost his guardian, the one who had always been there for him for seven years, and the sadness weighed heavily on him.

It reminded him how easily people could die in this world.

As people spoke of Jory's bravery, Stannon couldn't help but think, Jory didn't deserve this.

'He was too good to die like that. He was too loyal, too brave. I should've done something .' Stannon felt even more terrible when he remembered that Jory died before being able to find his dream woman.

When the ceremony ended, Stannon stepped forward. He walked to the spot where Jory's body would have been and placed his hand over his heart. "Goodbye, Jory," he whispered softly, his voice calm despite the sadness inside him. "I will always remember you."

With his thoughts still on Jory, Stannon turned and joined the others. The ceremony was over, but he knew he would never forget his loyal guardian.

(A.N: A big time skip ahead)

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