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He had never wanted to be the heir or lord of Winterfell. He was meant to ride, fight, drink and fuck. A cloak of the Night's Watch or the Kingsguard would not suit him well. A sellsword, mayhaps. There had been Stark sellswords; like Rodrik Stark the Wandering Wolf, who had joined the Second Sons. A wolf through and through, that's what I am. 

Shortly after the Tourney at Harrenhal, his father and Lord Hoster had insisted that he wed Catelyn as soon as possible once it was done. It wasn't any bit fair. He knew that the tourney would be his last bit of fun, but he didn't expect to be tied down so soon. So, he did his best to make the most of it. Drinking and fighting his way around it. Dancing and charming any maidens that took his fancy and the like. And he wanted to do more than dance with Lady Ashara Dayne of Starfall. 

He could see it in those vibrant lustrous eyes of her. She's a Dornishwoman, through and through. But he equally noticed that Ned was staring at her and then cowering about. Perhaps, there's a bit of wolf in his brother after all. 

So, he had went off to talk to Ashara Dayne. Charmed her as much as he could to ensure that Ned would at least dance with the woman and not look at his knees the whole night. She gave him a coy look and smile. And she agreed to dance with Ned, if she could equally dance with him at a later time. He felt rather proud that Ned was dancing with the fairest maiden in the land. 

There had been something about Lady Ashara that drew and gnawed at him. Something that he knew that they shared. But she spared him no thought, not even thinking about the dance that she owed him. Instead, she spent a great deal of time with Ned, more and more. As proud as he was for his brother, he did wish that he step aside so that he could have a go at her. He'd barely be talking to her if not for me!

Once the jousting had begun, he longed to prove himself. Prove that he had the skill and mettle that matched any knight there, if not greater. And hopefully, the starry maiden would give him more than a morsel of attention. He had gotten through most of them with ease, up until Prince Rhaegar Targaryen had humiliated him with the very first tilt. He practically flew off of his horse and wanted to stay on the ground. 

But things had truly died down the moment Prince Rhaegar Targaryen had placed the laurel of blue winter roses by Lyanna's side and proclaimed her the Queen of Love and Beauty. He wanted to beat on the beloved Silver Prince for that. Was that some sort of jab at me? The Starks? The North? That he thinks he could easily take Lya away?

He felt the need to drink and fuck shortly after. And Ashara had owed him a dance, might as well make it a proper one. But as soon as he asked her, she said no. He felt his wolf's blood stir. 

"Oh, c'mon, luv! You need the proper feel of winter, something to keep you warm! Not an ice cold prick jabbing at ya!"

Those pristine features of hers and her eyes darkened. "If you want a whore, go find and fuck one then, Brandon Stark!"

"I thought that all the Dornish were! You're freeer than anyone! Free to live, free to fight, free to fuck!"

"We certainly are more free than most of the Seven Kingdoms. And I am free to not fuck you, Brandon Stark. Now, go on and fuck yourself if you can."

The wolf's blood in him stirred. The only thing he knew was that he grabbed at her and kissed her. She tasted like every intoxicating thing he could fathom. He felt her hands grabbing at him. She wanted me too, I knew it. Ned couldn't satsi - 

It was then that he felt his hair tugged at violently. Then, he felt a kick to his stomach and a large slap that nearly grated at his cheek with nails sharp as daggers digging in. Fucking bitch!!

"You stay the fuck away from me, Brandon Stark!" he heard her say as she ran off. 

He didn't know what to say or do right after. All he did know was that he could not tell Ned. He could not tell anyone. Just what had he done? What had he done?

Almost immediately after, he and the pack had went off to Riverrun. Catelyn and her sister kept looking at him with wide eyes that made them look like their house's sigil. Little Edmure managed to bicker with Benjen on who was the better swordsman. Awfully gutsy for a boy of barely nine namedays to antagonize a boy of four-and-ten. Lyanna had tried to befriend the girls while Ned and his Arryn pet Elbert had made nice with some of the attending riverlords; the Mallisters and the Blackwoods mostly. He was done with his fostering, but had wanted to go back to the Vale for a bit. The wedding wouldn't happen until his father would come, as he left Old Ser Cassel as the acting castellan. 

By the time that his father arrived, he looked more stern than before. He more or less dragged him to Lord Hoster's chambers stating that he had disgraced himself at Harrenhal. He then pulled out a letter exclaiming that he had not only attacked Lady Ashara Dayne of Starfall but greatly dishonored her. Ned, who was in attendance, had his eyes flared up much like a wolf and was about ready to strike at him until their father grabbed him by the wrist. 

The Blackfish narrowed his eyes while his brother, Lord Hoster Tully looked indignant. "Doesn't matter much. The woman clearly enticed him. It's what all Dornish woman do. Even if they are noble."

"Apologies, Lord Hoster. But this is an affront to my honor, whatever honor my son has and the entirety of House Stark. We will find a way to make amends for it. Brandon will likely have to marry the girl."

Ned looked angrier than before, the Blackfish gave a curt nod and his father glared at him coldly. But Hoster still looked indignant. 

"And what of my daughter? You'd have your own son and heir marry some Dornish harlot?!"

"Do not worry, Lord Hoster. This alliance will go as planned. Because Brandon is no longer my son and heir. He's barely even a Stark right now!" Lord Rickard nearly raged. He felt more like a little boy being chastised more than ever in the moment. 

Before Hoster Tully could be more red in the face than his own hair, Ned stepped forward and spoke. "I know what solution that my father is trying to provide you. And I know it's rather abrupt, but it would be an honor to marry your daughter. I will do my best to honor and cherish her," he said as he then bowed solemnly.

Lord Hoster looked like he wanted to rave more and throw a tantrum. But he calmed down. "Fine! For the sake of this alliance, Ned Stark and my daughter, the Lady Catelyn Tully, will marry within three days time. Now, remove yourself from my presence, boy!" he said as he stared him down. 

Soon enough, word spread like wildfire. Little Lysa and Edmure looked at him with a mix of their father's and uncle's looks that they gave him. Catelyn looked teary-eyed and disappointed. Benjen and Lyanna looked at him the same way as their father did. Ned's look got to him harder; his eyes were harder than stone and laced with fury. He was wrong to think that his own brother had no wolf's blood. 

Before he could even make his way to the stable to ready his horse and leave, the boy ward of Riverun approached. Petyr Baelar, he believed his name was. That sinewy little brat had challenged him to a duel, to help regain Catelyn's honor, and from what he could tell, her hand as well. Honour demanded that he accept the challenge, but he mostly did it because he felt sorry for the lad and wanted a fight. He didn't care whether it was for his honor, or for Catelyn's. Before he could say or do a thing, Ned had already gotten there and accepted the duel. 

Catelyn all but begged Ned to spare him as he was barely a boy; close to Ben in age. Both came to the lower bailey of Riverrun. Ned had looked angry; especially given all the japes that Petyr started making at his expense. Petyr had shown up wearing only a helm, breastplate and mail, leading to Ned taking off most of his own armor. He wanted to give his brother some advice but Ned coldly brushed him off. 

Everyone had expected the duel to be quick, but Petyr was persistent and Ned was surprisingly patient in stalling him and more than easily knocking him down. Yet, Petyr wouldn't yield. It wasn't until they reached the riverbanks of the Tumblestone that it had reached it's end. Petyr had several cuts and bruises on his arms and face while Ned had none anywhere. One final chance to yield that Petyr should have taken but refused. That foolishness cost him dearly as he all but ran into Ned's sword after he had struck his shield off his arm and struck at him, falling on his sword that it dug into his arm that it nearly tore off. 

"You're done, my lord. I will not take your life. This duel is over," Ned said calmly.

That seemed to spur the boy on more. So much more that he decided to wildly attack his brother while his back was turned. On instinct, he grabbed his own sword and struck him down. In the end of it, it was barely a challenge and a waste of a life; despite wanting the challenge before. The boy was stupidly persistent, but he was stronger and less patient, and had given him a backhanded stroke so severe that he had bled to death.

Everyone had been shocked to say the least. He had heard many lords call him a savage behind his back, Lysa howling in agony about the loss, little Edmure had turned mute, and Lord Hoster and the Blackfish had silently mourned the ward. Catelyn and Ned shared a look of solemnness. He had simply told his father that he would be leaving for Dorne to collect his wife and hopefully be able to come back to the North. His father told him that he would be welcome in the North, but he would no longer have the life he once had; stating that he was effectively removed from the line of succession. And so, he left with the utmost haste. 

---

Within roughly two moons turn, he had arrived at Starfall. If everyone at Riverrun was angry or disappointed, the residents at Starfall were furious with him. When he saw Ashara, his heart skipped a beat. A feeling he never felt with any other woman. But that quickly changed as she looked at him with both fury and disgust. 

"I received a letter from your father, Lord Brandon. It dictates that you will marry me soon and that you've been removed from the line of succession. You're no more than a third of fourth son at this point. Yet, why should I marry you?"

He looked at her with awe and astonishment. "So that I may right mine own wrongs, and right any wrongs and slights I have brought to you and your house, my lady!" 

Usually after some words, most of the ladies he talked to would have a fond smile and sparkle in their eyes. Ashara smiled, but it was a smile that spoke of both disappointment and a level of intimacy he hadn't known or seen before.

"Alright then, Brandon Stark. Let's get this over with then," she said in a bored manner. 

Within the next day, they had married. Her elder brother and Lord of Starfall, Alec Dayne, harshly whispered, "I wouldn't truly give her to you. And you'll never truly have her, Stark!" 

He wondered what that meant, but he cared little. There was no bedding ceremony and they were immediately taken to their chambers. He wanted nothing more than to touch her. Kiss her by her forehead at least. Before he could do anything, Ashara removed her shift and he saw a small swelling within her belly. He was unable to believe his eyes. 

"Wha ...? Y-Yo-Yo-You're ..."

"All that time spent fucking and you've never seen a woman with child, my Lord Brandon? Don't worry. You'll have to wait for quite some time. But even then, you may not be allowed to."

Allowed to? Allowed to?! By the laws of gods and men, he was her lawful husband! How dare she say that he may not be allowed to?! 

"Good night, husband," she said coolly. The only thing that he could say or do after was simply drift off to sleep. 

Throughout the trip to Winterfell, she acted more frigid towards him. They had few small chats mostly about her wellbeing, but even they were scarce. The guards that came with them looked at him with contempt. It was worse than being in the scorching sun of Dorne. 

Once he arrived at Winterfell, he was welcomed with more coldness. Ben stared at him with empty eyes. Ned and their father shared the same furious gaze. Ned seemed more at ease when Ashara had curtsied and greeted him. Lord Rickard then asked for a guard to escort Ashara to her own chambers. 

"You've done well. Now, if only you could have done that with a bride that you were promised to," Rickard Stark coldly said. He then told him to come to his chambers. Soon enough, his father chastised him more and more. As if he didn't have his fill back at Riverun, Dorne and all the way in between. 

Brandon could only pinch the bridge of his nose, wondering if this chastisement would ever end. Though in truth it was less verbal punishment as it was a series of glares; both his father and Ned seemed content to sit across from him, their dark grey eyes boring holes into him.

“What am I supposed to do?” he calls out exasperated, bringing his hands down upon the arms of his chair. “Play keep-away from Winterfell until I die? Ashara might burst any second now for all I know, and Gods know that I’m not stepping under the roof of Starfall, not if I can help it!” He’d sooner be shipped off to the Wall than withstand the stares that would surely stem from Ashara's kin.

His father grits his teeth. “This arrangement is hardly suitable,” he tells him. “You and your wife housed in the same castle as Ned and Lady Catelyn; it’ll do more harm than good.”

Brandon cannot keep himself from rolling his eyes. “You talk like I plan to steal Catelyn away, father. If I wanted that I would have let Ned have Ashara, and I’d be abed with my Tully wife instead of being glared at by you lot.”

Ned turns an amusing shade of red as he grimaces, simultaneously furious and embarrassed by the situation. Not by any fault of his, Brandon assures himself. All he had done was come home.

“We’ll move into the guest chambers, if that’ll make you all happy,” Brandon offers, crossing his arms over his chest. “But you can’t make me leave; I may not be the heir anymore, but I’m still a Stark of Winterfell. This is where I belong. The lone wolf dies but the pack—“

“All right,” his father bites out, giving a tired sigh. He looked so old, his father, with new lines on his face and his beard longer and greyer. Too old, in fact. “Stay here if that’s what you want. But as soon as you misbehave—“

“Misbehave, father? What am I, a—“

“As soon as you misbehave, I will give you a tract of land and a castle and the two of you can live there. Understood?”

His father looked seconds away from throwing him out on his arse there and then, and thus Brandon had the good sense to nod silently. He rises out of his seat, prepared to take his leave and end this tiring ordeal. The wolfswood was calling to him, begging him to gather a party and go hunting. He is almost to the door when his father speaks up again,

"There is news you may not have gotten. Princess Elia had passed away from childbed fever. Ser Jaime was expelled from the Kingsguard by the king's decree and ravings. Lyanna was chosen by the king's decree to wed Prince Rhaegar. And Lady Catelyn is with child."

Lya? Sweet Lyanna? A princess of the realm? He wanted to laugh even as his head was filled with worrisome thoughts. 

"That's quite the honor. For her and House Stark."

If Ashara was cold to him in Dorne, she was much colder to him now that they were in Winterfell. It made her fit in with the cold winds of the North. He did his best to avoid Catelyn Tully; he could not deal with another cold woman. He's not sure how Ned can either, considering that his brother had ice in his veins. Mayhaps, that made them two of a kind, even if she's swelling with child. 

He did his best to make himself scarce around Winterfell. Little had changed. The once empty spot of land between the Great Hall and the Great Keep was now occupied with a sept; it had its seven walls of stone, a wooden roof, and two large bronze doors. But it was still strange to think that Lya would be the princess, let alone a queen. He knew that his father had wanted to betroth her to Robert Baratheon, but from what he had been told, he was now married off to Cersei Lannister. Makes the Lannisters as close to the crown as possible. But it was still strange how he was made a stranger in his own home, almost like a ghost lingering about. 

After nearly four moons, both Lady Catelyn and Ashara were to give birth. Winterfell was a cacophonous sound of screeching and wailing. He wanted to leave but his father implored him to stay. 

"You've run away from things for too long, Brandon," he said curtly. 

Eventually, their screaming stopped but quickly replaced by the wailing of children. Ned went to Catelyn while he went off to tend to Ashara as best he could. She looked tired and haggard yet still captivating. What surprised him was that there were two bundles. 

"You've been blessed with both a boy and girl, my lord," the maester said, stumbling on the last words. He slowly went over to them. Their hair was as dark as ink and their eyes a blue-grey color that reminded him of Benjen's. 

"Damon. Dyanna. That's their names, my lord," Ashara said tiredly. 

Before he could say anything, he just looked at them. Thinking of when and how he would teach Damon how to swing a sword. He looked closer at them both and saw that their eyes almost looked like Ashara's. But it reminded him of something, someone else's eyes: Ned's eyes. They're not my children.

It was then Ashara wearily fell asleep with a small but faint smile on her lips.

It wasn't until a week had passed that he had asked and pressed the issue. She said nothing, her face and eyes steely. 

"You fucking slut! You tricked me!, didn't you?!"

"I barely did. You attacked me. Nearly did what you wanted. And I never said that I wanted you or that I even liked you, Brandon Stark!"

He hated that. He hated the way she said his name, like it was a curse. Like he was a curse. The true stain of honor on House Stark. 

"So … then … my brother Ned …?"

"He … had been sweet. Kind and gentle with me. And when we did what we did, it was beneath the horrid weirwood of Harrenhal. I made a small jape about it. It wasn't long that he made a pledge to marry me. I didn't think that I would agree, but I did. Although, after what you had did, I barely wanted to look at Ned. The only reason this happened was because of your stupidity and my brother Alec took note of bruises I had by my hips. If it were my brother Arthur, he'd have a wolfskin pelt adorning his armor."

Dornish sorcery. That's what it was. That's why he's now stuck with her. A cunt that won't even let him touch her. But, who was stuck with who?

---

It was strange to think that all of Ned's children were being raised in the halls of Winterfell. All of them bouncing about, red-cheeked and healthy. And from what he heard, Lya had a bouncing baby boy of her own as well. 

What was stranger to think was how Catelyn and Ashara were getting along. A strange camaraderie of sorts. Ned seemed more at ease now; growing into his responsibilities as the new heir-apparent of Winterfell and the North. Ben was sparring with Martyn's boy Jory, who was steadily becoming his closest friend. 

Winterfell was no longer the same to him anymore. Even if he still had the name, he was barely considered a Stark of Winterfell. Strange that home felt more like a trap than a safe haven. Stuck with a wife that barely wants him. Stuck with brothers that say little but stare daggers at him. The woman he nearly married, barely saying a thing to him at all. Her eyes were icy whenever they met his. 

But it was stranger to think that he was to care for his brother's children. Part of him is giddy that his brother and Ashara Dayne had fucked, and the other part jealous that his own brother touched his wife while he may never get the chance. They talked if sparingly. He's done his best to make her comfortable in Winterfell and with him, but more often than not, she spends time with either Catelyn or Ned. She was becoming more of a proper woman of the North, and cold as it as well. But the cold was just for him, to anyone else and her children, she was warm as the sun in Dorne. 

Everything was stranger. Willam Dustin and Ethan Glover, whom he had considered friends, now hung around Ned. And Ned himself wasn't just more at ease as the heir, but seemed to practice his swordplay more. Especially with Mark Ryswell and Mors Umber's sons; Morgan and Duncan. It just reminded him that he was no longer the heir with all the privileges in entailed. All the more prevalent when any visiting lords came and paid him little mind. Ashara and the children moreso, but barely sparing him a glance. Morgan and Duncan would drink with him at times, but barely talk. The Ryswells were amicable enough, even though Barbrey was married off to Willam. 

His own father barely talked to him, mostly mentioning the comings and goings of Winterfell and whatever else was happening in Westeros. He mentioned that he was going through proposals for a marriage to Benjen. It was strange to think that his youngest brother would soon have a bride. Perhaps he should bring him to the Wintertown brothel so he may learn a thing or two. 

As he nearly got lost in his own thoughts, he saw Ned and Ashara together. They were talking and she was holding a sleeping Damon in her arms. Ned simply looked at Damon with awe, likely knowing or Ashara had told him, or both. She simply laid her head by his shoulder and Ned did nothing to remove her from him. He hated the sight of it. He hated that she could talk to him warmly while she barely talked to him at all. My darling wife. 

It was all so strange to him how everything had changed. Especially now there was a woman that clearly wanted his own plain and boring brother. Any other day, any woman that Ned would marry would likely want him. He wouldn't bed her but he would be wanted by her. Just how in the seven hells did this happen?! Even if he wasn't the heir, he was still a Stark. That had to mean something at least.

But it barely did. Willam barely welcomed him at Barrowton. The man he practically considered a brother since he fostering spurned him while his wife, a woman he once considered marrying, stared daggers at him, like so many did. Before he left, he could have sworn that a gangly little boy named Beron looked a bit like him. But he put it past him and left. He barely had anyone by his side, his family all but abandoned him and stuck with a wife who did not want him. 

When he came back to Winterfell, things were rather barren. Ben came by stating that father went off to settle a matter and had taken several men with him. He needed to talk to Ned. Even if he barely talked to him, he needed someone. I need my brother. As he made his way to his chambers, he had heard moaning. It was strange to hear Ned and Catelyn romping about. It was then that he heard a scream and a wail. 

"GODS, IT'S BEEN SO LONG NED!! TOO LONG!!"

He recognized the voice. My darling wife. And my brother. Fucking. Traitors. How he felt his wolf's blood stir.

He waited in the lord's chambers until Ned came. By the time he did, Ned had a small smile and then looked surprised. "Brandon, what's going on? Surely, Ben told you about father's trip to - "

"You betrayed me. You and Ashara deceived me. How could yo - "

"You betrayed me first Bran. Ashara told me what you nearly did to her at Harrenhal. I took your place so that Houses Stark and Tully would be united for the sake of an alliance father worked hard to make. You oft complained that you didn't want to be tied down. How you didn't want to be the heir of Winterfell. I did not want to be the heir of Winterfell because I knew it was meant for you. All of this was meant for you. You betrayed me and father, you hurt Cat and Shara. You don't think it unfair that my own children are raised by Ashara, having to claim you as a father, so they wouldn't be called bastards? Don't you dare tell me that I hurt you. You hurt everyone, Brandon," Ned said with a cold face and fury in his voice. 

He wanted to rage at him. Tell him that he would never have done that. But he did the moment he laid his eyes at Ashara at Harrenhal. Wanting to blame her with Dornish sorcery. His brother was right. He hurt and betrayed everyone. His brother, his father, the Tullys. it's a miracle he hadn't hurt Ben yet. Or Lya. Damon and Dyanna were just children, not his children, but children who didn't need or deserve him. 

When his father returned and gave him the news that Ser Gerold Hightower and Prince Lewyn Martell of Dorne had passed, he quickly went off to Kings' landing to join the noble order. As much as he wanted  Ashara, he wasn't meant to be a married man or even a husband. He knew that his father was enraged when he got the letter he left behind, but it was moot at that point. Though bound to another sort of duty, he was free. He could have argued that it was a greater duty to protect his sister, who was now the Queen, but he didn't have the energy to put the damn words in. 

Lya was as welcoming as could be. The new King Rhaegar looked at him coolly that it reminded him too much of home. He reluctantly accepted and inducted him into the order. As he was, he felt daggers boring into him again. This time, by Arthur Dayne, Sword of the Morning. He thought that things would be better upon becoming the White Wolf of the Kingsguard; having made things right. So, when Lyanna mentioned that he abandoned a child that Ashara had sometime after he left, he had told her what had happened. Ashara, Harrenhal, Ned; everything. He thought that she would have his back as she always had like he would have hers. How wrong he was. 

"Even if he wanted to, Ned can't be the proper father to Ashara's children. By law, you are their rightful father. Did you really think this through, Bran? And it's not one but two. Galon and Duncan; twin boys. From what father told me in his last raven, they'll be moving into a new castle by a cliff at the end of the Cape of Pikes, the westernmost point of the North. And they'll be granted a new name of Greystark to bring it new life and pride. Right now, I hope that they do much better than you and without you. The White Wild Wolf of the Kingsguard is what you are. And if you think of trying to make a proper man of my son, I will have you exiled from Westeros faster than you can say snow. You are dismissed, Ser," she said coolly. 

And so, he was now in King's Landing. Stuck there. But probably better there than in the North. Even if it reeks like piss and shit. He felt alive with a blade in hand, training with the other Kingsguard. More often than not, he trained with Myles Mooton; the Silver Salmon he oft japed. More often than not, he was victorious when he trained with Theo Frey, despite his build from his Crakehall mother, which supposedly gave him strength.  Though, if and whenever he trained with Arthur Dayne, he was knocked on his arse. And being under Ser Barristan made him feel like a little boy chastised by his own father.

---

He listened to Lya's advice and did not act as a father to his nephew, Jonothor Targaryen, who had been named after Jonothor Darry, and actively trained him. The boy was a natural, much like himself. But he reminded him of Rhaegar and Ned; a sweet if solemn child. Even though he was dismissed from the Kingsguard under the Mad King's ravings and paranoia, Jaime Lannister oft visited King's Landing with his son and heir, Lucerys "Luke" Lannister along with his wife Rhea of House Florent. Even with somewhat large ears, Luke Lannister was a handsome lad with hair colored like beaten gold and flashing cat-green eyes like his father. He oft sparred with Jaime, being able to laugh and jape with him, while Jon and Luke sparred and played with one another. He even did so with Robert Baratheon when he visited, coming by with his bride, Cersei Lannister. When they both came by, Jon, Luke, and Robert's boy Gendry, were thick as thieves, running roughshod which caused them all to laugh uproariously. The more he looked at them, laughing and playing about, the more he wondered if he dismissed the notion of fatherhood all too soon. But something oft reminded him that it was not his cup to bear, like when the boys got themselves in trouble and were in need of discipline.

Soon enough, the Greyjoy Rebellion happened. Balon Greyjoy dubbed himself king in a stupid sense that no one truly followed Rhaegar. Just how wrong he was. He distinguished himself in slaying Erik Ironmaker the Anvilbreaker and his grandson Urek, while capturing his other grandsons and great-grandsons. Robert's brother Stannis distinguished himself by smashing the Iron Fleet by Fair Isle, having been lead by Victarion Greyjoy, alongside  Aenys, Maelys and Aerys Velaryon. Ned and Robert distinguished themselves by leading the Siege of Pyke while Jaime Lannister earned the title of Krakenkiller and Kingslayer, in taking Balon Greyjoy's head. Rhaegar led negotiations with Balon's eldest living son, Maron, which left him the ruler and having to send his siblings and a cousin to foster in other kingdoms. Ned would take the young Greyjoy boy Theon to foster, the girl Asha to be sent to Riverrun and Victarion Greyjoy's son to foster at Casterly Rock with Jaime Lannister. 

A tourney was held soon after that he wished didn't end. Stupid and selfish as it was, he wanted to keep on fighting. And he wanted to keep fucking, in spite of what Barristan the Old said about keeping their vows. Gods, how he missed fucking. He loved the sounds that Melesa Crakehall and Lorea Westerling had made as he pressed himself within them. He hadn't felt like that great since Harrenhal, having had his way with Falena Foote, Wenda Wydman and Robert's Estermont cousin Serena; pushing and feeling her melon-like breasts about. But that had to come to an end. 

Now, they were heading off to Winterfell to personally celebrate the end of the Greyjoy Rebellion, and to see that Jon be fostered there. It would be good for him to know his mother's family. His older sister Rhaenys was being fostered at Sunspear, after Prince Oberyn had strongly insisted on it. And it would be good for him to know his cousins. It felt strange to be going back to Winterfell after all this time. He just barely saw Ned in the Greyjoy Rebellion or even Ben, whom he knew was defending the coasts of the Stony Shore alongside the Mormonts while his wife and father were at Winterfell. 

"Getting cold feet, Bran?" Lyanna had asked with a small smirk, as she and her mount came close to him. His little nephew Jon, huddled up by her as she held the reins. 

"No. Not exactly, but I am nervous." he admitted as solemnly as Ned or King Rhaegar would. 

"Why would you be? You only left your brothers and wife back at Winterfell to rot." Lyanna said as blunt as her son's training sword. 

"Sh-Shut up!!" he all but roared at her. 

"Is that any way to address your Queen, Ser Brandon?" said Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. If there was one man who could make him feel like a little boy all over again, other than his father, it was the Old Ser. 

"I, uh, um, well, that is ..."

Lyanna then let out a loud barking laugh. "It's alright, my good ser. At the moment, I was speaking to my stupid brother, not the White Wolf of the Kingsguard!"

"As you wish, my queen." Ser Barristan said with a bow before heading off to the head of the pavilion with the other Kingsguard. 

"What's the worst that can happen? If I know them all like I do, they've likely gotten over the many slights you've put on them. Now, c'mon, Bran!" she said as she galloped off with little Jon whooping with glee. 

The kingsguard stared at him almost expectantly to rush on out to the courtyard. The Blackfish had been glowering at him, almost the same as his niece had way back when. He had joined the Kingsguard just after the Greyjoy Rebellion, replacing the now lost Jonothor Darry, and he never forgave him for humiliating Catelyn. Arthur did the same, as he knew he practically ruined Ashara and abandoned "his" children. The others had neutral faces, while Myles Mooton had smiled at him and Theo Frey looking rather bored. 

All the Starks had been gathered. Ned and his wife stood proudly with their son and daughter, their newborn daughter in the arms of Old Nan heavily squirming. Ben and Jonelle held on to their little son Errol's hands while staring at him almost defiantly. The greeting was formal but he could sense the cold fury in Ned's voice. I was foolish, my brother does have wolf's blood. But he's tempered it like a blade in a forge. 

Lyanna informally hugged the whole lot, rather than have them all bow. "I may be a Queen now, but I am still a Stark at heart. This is my home!" Rhaegar had shook hands with Ned and Ben and kissed the hands of Catelyn and Ashara. Before long, they had introduced little Jon, who nearly shied away from Ned. Ned quickly won the boy over, mussing his hair and earning a giggle from the boy. His own son Robb introduced himself to his princely cousin, and the two were conversing almost immediately. Damon followed suit quickly as well, laughing and smirking in a way that reminded him of himself. It was then he realized there was another reason why they came. Ben's wife, Jonelle of House Cerwyn, had informed them all that Lord Rickard Stark, the Old Wolf of Winterfell, had passed. He was still a great bear of a man even now. It was hard to believe that he was just gone.

The Pack had silently mourned him as his body was put into the crypts. No one had said or spoken a word. Ben must've been around Ned and Father more often than not; because he stared at him the way Father would when he was giving him a stern lecture on how to be a good lord of Winterfell. It gave him chills. Catelyn and Ashara just glowered at him. All of their faces never left his head. Even now, they were burning. 

While he found himself easing back in his old chambers, he had felt more like a stranger. Am I no longer a Stark of Winterfell? Then again, Ashara and Catelyn aren't really Starks.  I'm more a wolf than Ned or Ben could hope to be. This had been my home long before it was theirs. It was then that he found eyes staring at him. Ned's other pack. Damon, Dyanna, Galon and Duncan Greystark. All of them proudly presenting their doublets with their new sigils; a rampant shadowcat on a starry field. 

They stared at him with a look that was both furious and curious. He wanted to tell them all then and there that Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Master of Ice-in-his-Veins, was their true father and they were just upjumped bastards because of their noble Dornish mother. All of them reminded him so much of his father and theirs. All of them bearing brilliant blue-grey eyes that almost looked like their mother but had her shape. Strong and sharp narrow jaws and hair as dark as the night. But they left as quick as they came with a harumph. 

It was then that he simply wandered about around Winterfell. He ached in seeing that accursed sept that Ned had built for his southron bride. At least Ben married a proper woman of the north, even if Lady Jonelle was a bit homely. She was with child again, and mentioned she was praying for a girl. The more he walked the more he realized just how unfamiliar it was to him. He could recall as many memories of his boyhood home, but it was not the Winterfell he knew.

He then found himself by Catelyn's chambers. He knew for a fact she hadn't really adjusted to the cold winds of the North, and had resided in the warmest chambers Winterfell has to offer. No offense brother, but she needs a proper man by her side. And you had betrayed me first. The Kingsguard uphold their vows, he could hear the voice of Barristan Selmy echoing in his head. Piss off old man, I know that your brother Lewyn Martell of Dorne had kept a paramour for years. I've done almost everything a knight would be asked for. I am brave and just, acted courteously and kept myself cleanly as you, old man!! 

" ... think about it?"

Wait a minute, that's Ned's voice. What's he doing here?

"No. Not anymore. I had been a stupid, stupid girl when I was betrothed Brandon. I hate that he has this ... power over us, Ned!"

Ohh, so you still think of me, haven't you, Catelyn?

"And besides, you're wrong. You shouldn't be like Brandon. I fell in love with you, for you. Even with this ... complication with Ashara as well. And I should have realized it sooner, but you're more handsome than he is," she said with a kiss soon after.

Oh, now I know that you're lying to him Catelyn. Why do you lie to my brother?

"What about you, Ned? Do you have any regrets in marrying me?."

It was then that he heard Ashara's voice. "Brandon could hang in all the Seven Hells, love. You were meant for much more than a small holdfast in the North. He never deserved a thing, except that new white cloak he dons, along with the thing that he likes to call honor. You have true honor, Ned. You are what the North, and we need!"

"Have you ever thought of anyone else other than my brother, Cat?"

Wha ...? Now, this was interesting. Little minx. 

"Honestly, I did find Jaime Lannister handsome when he came to visit us at Riverrun. And King Rhaegar even before he was king. And then you. What about you, dear husband? Was there some other woman that entranced you before the ever-famed and ever beautiful Ashara Dayne of Starfall?"

"In all honesty, there was Jon Arryn's niece Alyssa from my time being fostered there. And when Robert insisted on taking me to the Stormlands, he had introduced me to his cousin, Serena Estermont. He likely had a notion to make us family through her. When I was younger, my heart had all but fallen when I saw Lady Bethany; before she married Lord Bolton. Then there was Lady R - "

"Okay, that's enough of that now, dear husband!" she said almost hissing it. 

"Why, wife? Are you jealous?"

"Don't worry about that, love. How about we make sure you forget about them, and then some!" 

Catelyn and Ashara were both pouncing upon his brother. And he could hear Ned laugh and smile. Did magic suddenly appear into the world? Why are these women lying to my brother? Ned has as much charm and handsomeness as a hedge knight or sellsword!

"O-o-ohh, Ned!"

I must be going deaf in one of my ears!

"D-don't stop, my sweet wolf!"

He all but ran out until he met up with Lya and Ben. He was about to greet them when Ben's head moved to his left, spotting him and gave him the same cold glare as before. It made his lively blue-grey eyes look like two cold chips of ice. 

Ben ignored him and continued on talking to Lya. "So, Will's asked me to foster his uncle's son in my own holdfast. Of course, it's still in it's final stages of being rebuilt. Even if it used to be some old watchtower in the wolfswood. Of course, there's also been mention of us taking up Blackpool or even Goldgrass, since there's little Stouts lately. Still, there's no great rush for it. Ned' hasn't exactly complained."

Lya then stared at him. But it was unlike the others where it was nothing but derision. It was saddening, almost as if she was pitying him. He didn't want or need pity. Even if he was performing a different sort of duty, he was free. Free from his duty as heir, free of responsibilities, free of marriage; free of everything. As a true wolf is meant to be. 

He knew what he was. He wasn't meant for any of that shit. He wasn't meant to be a lord. He'd likely be gelded if he ever tried to join the Night's Watch. Although, Barristan the Old had mentioned he would do that to him on occasion. Mayhaps he would be better off as a hedge knight or a sellsword, much like his ancestor: the Wandering Wolf, Rodrik Stark. The Wild Wolf of the Disputed Lands has a nice ring to it.  

They aren't any true Starks of Winterfell. Not true and proper wolves as Lya and I are. Then he took a note of the little ones. Jon and Robb were playing with the new ward; the Greyjoy boy. Sansa was idly watching them as they laughed and ran. Barely looks like a Stark, the little thing. Errol was off playing the with Greystark Pack while Ashara looked on with fondness alongside Jonelle. 

Soon enough, they left. Lya had been sad with Jon gone, even with the comfort of knowing he was with Ned. She had taken Luke Lannister's twin brother, Loreth as a ward and Stannis Baratheon's son Gerrold as well. It certain eased her and appeased the Baratheons and Lannisters both, having their sons as wards of the crown. Lya later fell pregnant once again after being told that she may not have another child after Jon's birth. Soon enough, she bore two children: Matarys and Aelinor. Aelinor had her father's pretty silver hair alongside Lyanna's silver-grey eyes. Matarys looked very much like his father, with pale lilac eyes and silver-blonde hair but was as wolf's blooded as his mother and elder brother. He had heard that Ned had two sons named Brandon and Rickon, and Jonelle had the daughter she prayed for named Mara. 

It was strange to think of it all. So many new pups in new different packs. Lya and her brood, along with the wards she took in. Ned and his growing pack. Ben and his own. And here he was, with Lya by his side sworn to protect her. Only her and no one else. He sworn his sword to her and her pack. He was still free as can be and couldn't have cared less. True wolfs are free. 

Or mayhaps I've been wrong. Mayhaps, ... I'm not a Stark, or ever was one. Ben, Ned, and Lya are undoubtedly Starks. A wolf has a pack. Lya. Ned. Ben. All of them are growing their own. And I'm just a lone wolf …