Snow covered Winterfell in a thick, soft blanket, turning the courtyard into a sparkling white playground. The air was crisp and clean, and the sound of wind rattling the castle walls mixed with the laughter of children and the soft crunch of snow beneath their small boots. Kaelor Stark, three years old in body but far older in mind, crouched near a pile of blocks, scrutinizing them. Each piece of wood and small stone was studied as if it were a piece of a battlefield.
Brandon was swinging a wooden sword, practicing his strikes and footwork with fierce determination. Lyanna and Benjen were building towers from blocks, stacking them high and laughing whenever they toppled.
Kaelor picked up a block and placed it carefully. "Lyanna, be gentle. Too hard and it will fall."
Lyanna giggled. "Kaelor! You always know the right way!"
Kaelor smiled faintly. "I watch… I notice. If we are careful, the towers stay strong."
Benjen rolled a block toward him. "I want to make a castle too!"
Kaelor caught it mid-roll and placed it perfectly. "Then you need a secret door here. If someone attacks, you can hide."
Brandon laughed, swinging his wooden sword again. "Little brother thinks he can boss us around!"
Kaelor smirked. "Not boss. Guide. There's a difference."
Lyanna tilted her head. "You're always so bossy, Kaelor!"
Kaelor grinned. "I'm not bossy. I'm smarter. Watch and learn."
Benjen rolled his eyes. "You're just showing off!"
Kaelor jumped and dodged another block. "Showing off? No. Preparing. Every move matters."
Every game is practice… every block, every swing, every dodge… preparation, Kaelor thought. Brandon… strong, brave, but reckless. Lyanna… clever, fast, but impatient. Benjen… strong, but easily distracted. I will guide them without them knowing. I must.
Brandon lunged at him with the wooden sword. "I'll get you!"
Kaelor ducked and tapped Brandon's shoulder. "Not today, Bran. Too slow!"
Brandon laughed. "You're cheeky, Kaelor!"
Kaelor stuck his tongue out. "Cheeky? Maybe. But faster and smarter too."
Later, Kaelor ran to the hall where Rickard was inspecting repairs on a section of the courtyard wall.
„Father," Kaelor said, bouncing on his small feet, "I want to train with Ser Rodrik Cassel now. I don't want to wait! Rickard knelt and looked at him gently. "Kaelor… you are still too young. Ser Rodrik trains the children when they turn six, as all Starks do. You must wait."Kaelor folded his arms, pouting. "Six is boring! I'm ready now. I can dodge Brandon, swing like Benjen—just let me try!"
Rickard smiled but shook his head. "I know you are clever, Kaelor. Very clever. But rules exist for a reason. Patience, my son." Kaelor rolled his eyes dramatically. "Fine… but you'll see. I'll be better than everyone anyway."
Brandon walked over, chuckling. "Little brother wants to fight Ser Rodrik already?" Kaelor smirked. "Yes, and when I do, you're going to look like a clumsy oaf!"
Lyanna laughed. "Kaelor, you're impossible!"
Benjen nudged him. "I'll fight with you when it's our turn." Kaelor grinned. "Good. We'll see who's really faster." Rickard patted Kaelor's shoulder. "Come now. Play with your siblings. You'll train soon enough."
Kaelor ran back to them, muttering, "Soon, Father. Soon, I'll show you all."
Later that morning, Kaelor wandered into the study where Maester Luwin was reading a large, dusty book. "Maester Luwin," he asked boldly, "tell me about the kings and wars. I want to know everything!" Maester Luwin looked up and smiled. "Ah, Kaelor… very curious today. Long ago, many kings ruled different parts of Westeros. Some fought for power, others for honor. The Targaryens still sit on the Iron Throne, ruling the Seven Kingdoms, though their dragons are no more. Their rule continues through politics and strength, not fire. Before them, there were other kings, stories of heroes, traitors, and battles that shaped the land. All these tales are lessons to learn from. You will study deeper history when you are four. For now, you should play and grow strong." Kaelor crossed his arms. "Four is boring. I want to learn now!" Maester Luwin chuckled. "Patience, Kaelor. All in time. You will learn everything you wish, I promise."Kaelor smirked. Patience is boring… but fine. I'll watch and wait… for now.
Maester Luwin continued, telling him stories of old kings, legendary battles, and how the North survived invasions and scheming lords. Kaelor asked questions politely, nodded at each answer, and all the while thought: When danger comes… I will know what to do. I will save my family.
Back in the courtyard, Kaelor rechallenged Brandon.
"Bran! Watch your step. You overextend. See? Too slow!" He dodged and tapped Brandon's shoulder. Brandon laughed. "I'll get you next time, Kaelor!"
Lyanna built a small wall of blocks. "Kaelor, help me make it stronger." Kaelor crouched, examining it. "If you put this block here, it won't fall if Benjen knocks it. Watch closely.
Benjen pushed a block toward Kaelor. "I'll knock it down!" Kaelor caught it mid-roll and placed it perfectly. "Not today, Benjen. You'll have to try harder." Kaelor laughed and jumped into the snow. Every game is practice. Every block, every dodge… all preparation. Soon, Ser Rodrik won't know what hit him.
By evening, the courtyard was quiet. Kaelor lay on a pile of furs, tired but satisfied. His siblings laughed and tumbled around him, oblivious to the plotting in his mind.
Soon… soon I'll train. I'll be faster, wiser, better. No one will catch me off guard. Not the Targaryens, not the Lannisters, not anyone. My family will be safe because of me.
Winterfell glowed under the setting sun. Kaelor Stark, small in body but bold and clever in mind, already imagined the day he would wield a real sword, show his skill, and protect everyone he loved.