Chapter 41: Starks at Winterfell
The gates of Winterfell swung open as Eddard Stark rode through them on a horse that had seen better days. The beast was gaunt and weary, bearing the marks of a long journey hard-ridden. But the ancient castle itself seemed unchanged—the grey stone walls as solid and eternal as they had always been, the direwolf banners snapping in the cold northern wind.
Benjen stood waiting in the courtyard, and when he saw his brother, he moved forward with genuine warmth in his eyes. These two had been separated for far too long, had borne too much weight apart. They embraced like men who had thought they might never do so again, and for a moment, the grief and strain that marked them both seemed to ease.
"Welcome home, brother," Benjen said, pulling back to study Eddard's face. "You look like you've aged ten years in the last two."
"It feels like it," Eddard replied quietly. "Where is Artos? I thought he would be here to welcome me home."
Benjen's expression shifted, becoming tinged with amusement and exasperation in equal measure. "He's still rather angry with you about Dorne, I'm afraid. Didn't even come down to the courtyard. Said something about not wanting to watch his brother make more foolish decisions."
"Of course he's angry," Eddard said, though there was no real heat in his tone.
"He was right to be. It was a foolish risk, and You should have listened to him " Benjen replied as they began walking toward the keep.
"But he's occupied at the moment. Playing with little Jon, actually. Seems quite taken with the boy."
Eddard felt his chest tighten at the mention of the little one . "Jon. So the everyone knows huh."
"Everyone knows," Benjen confirmed. "Lord Reed arrived with the child and announced it. At first we thought He was Artos's child. "
They climbed the spiral stairs toward the family chambers, and Benjen couldn't resist recounting the moment. "You should have seen his face , Ned. I've never seen Artos look so terrified in his life. More frightened than when Father caught him stealing that mare from the stables when he was five or six to follow Brandon. Remember how angry Father was that day?"
Eddard found himself laughing despite everything. "I do."
" Though Artos wanted to claim the boy as his own, just to spare you the trouble. His exact words were that no one would have questioned it, given his... extensive reputation."
Ned laughed "Artos has always been a problem Child . And he still is, from what you're telling me. Forty percent of the Targaryen treasury? A marriage agreement with the Reach for my son? who I haven't even met yet.Seven hells, Benjen, what was he thinking?"
Benjen laughed " It's your fault leaving him incharge after that disagreement ,what do you think gonna happen. Well, Whatever you might think of his methods, brother it was good for North. The gold will rebuild North . And the marriage alliance with the Reach is actually quite shrewd—it binds them to us and ensures that grain flows north through any future disputes."
"Jon Arryn has done nothing but complain about both," Eddard said wearily. "And he was right to. Artos practically robbed the Crown, and now I'm the one answering for it. As for the marriage agreement, I haven't even met my son properly, and he's already betrothed to a girl in Highgarden."
"Lady Catelyn was rather pleased about it, actually," Benjen offered. "Marrying your trueborn son into the Reach is quite an honor in her mind. Though I suspect her mood has soured considerably with other recent developments."
Eddard stopped in the corridor, his hand against the cold stone wall. "How bad was her reaction to Jon?"
Benjen was quiet for a long moment, choosing his words with care. "She was devastated, Ned. Absolutely devastated. She left the chamber as soon as she heard the news and has kept to her rooms ever since. She's been... distant. Angry."
"She has every right to be," Eddard said heavily. "I've dishonored her. What did one expect—that she would simply accept it with grace?"
"It was wartime," Benjen said, falling into step beside his brother again. " Besides you were far from home, fighting for your life. You couldn't have known you would even survive. You couldn't have known anything about what the future would hold."
"That doesn't excuse it," Eddard replied, though his tone suggested he was trying to convince himself as much as his brother. "I made a choice, and now Catelyn pays the price for it."
They reached the corridor that led to the family chambers, and Benjen paused before continuing. "There's something else you should know. Artos is still grieving, Ned. Grieving hard. Every day he goes to the training yard and beats the guards senseless. Even his own men are starting to complain about the intensity of his practice. I have heard stories and men calling him Demonwolf."
Eddard admitted. " Demon of the North in the south. what I'm afraid of is that the war took something from him that he'll never get back."
"Aye," Benjen agreed quietly. "But he's a Stark a Wolf . We endure. We'll all endure this, somehow."
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Catelyn was staring out the window when Eddard entered their chambers. She did not turn at the sound of the door opening, did not acknowledge his presence in any way. She simply stood there, her back to him, her shoulders rigid with tension.
"Catelyn," Eddard said carefully, closing the door behind him.
"My lord," she replied, and her voice was ice. It was the first time she had addressed him since learning of Jon Snow, and the chill in those two simple words told him everything he needed to know about the depth of her anger.
"I know you're angry," Eddard began, moving toward her. "You have every right to be. I have dishonored you, and I have no excuse that would be adequate."
Catelyn finally turned to face him, and Eddard was struck by the pain in her eyes. This was not simply anger—it was hurt, deep and bleeding and raw.
"No excuse," she repeated, her voice tight with controlled fury. "No excuse, Eddard? You father a bastard while I carry your legitimate heir, and you tell me there is no excuse?" She moved away from him, putting the width of the chamber between them. "I came to the North as your wife. I gave you my honor, my family's honor, everything. And you repay that by bringing another woman's bastard into my home, into my son's house."
Eddard remained silent
Catelyn's voice rose, sharp as a blade. " You had a wife waiting for you ,that was supposed to mean something?" She turned away again, her hands clasped so tightly they shook. "I was told you were an honorable man, Eddard Stark. That you were different from other lords. That you kept your word and valued loyalty above all else. But it seems that honor only extends so far as your own desires."
Eddard felt the weight of her words settle on him like a stone. "I'm sorry, Catelyn. I am truly sorry. But the boy is here now, and he is of my blood . He deserves—"
"He deserves nothing," Catelyn snapped, spinning around to face him again. "He deserves nothing except to be sent away. Send him somewhere, send him to the Vale, send him anywhere but here. Let him be someone else's problem. There are other lords who might take him in."
"No," Eddard said flatly. "I will not abandon my blood."
"Your son?" Catelyn's laugh was bitter as gall. "You mean your shame." She moved closer to him, her eyes blazing with a fury that seemed almost physical. "I carried your child, Eddard. I gave you an heir. And you throw this bastard in my face as though it means nothing."
"Jon will remain at Winterfell," Eddard said, his voice taking on the quiet authority of the Lord of Winterfell. "He is my blood, and he will be raised as a Stark. That is not negotiable."
"You would choose him over your wife?" Catelyn demanded. "Over your marriage?"
"I would choose to do what is right," Eddard replied strongly. "The boy had no choice in how he was born. He bears no responsibility for my failings. But he is innocent, and he is a Stark, and he will be treated as such."
Catelyn stared at him for a long moment.
"Then we have nothing more to discuss," she said coldly. "You have made your choice, and I must accept it, as a wife must accept the choices of her lord. But do not expect me to welcome the boy. Do not expect me to treat him as family. He is the product of your betrayal, and I will not forget that."
She turned away from him once more, returning to her position by the window, her silhouette small and isolated against the grey Northern sky.
Eddard stood there for a long moment, wanting to say something more, wanting to find words that would bridge this gulf between them. But there were no such words. He had made his choice, and now they would both have to live with the consequences.
He left the chamber quietly, closing the door behind him with a soft click that sounded, to his ears, like the closing of a tomb.
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