(I went a little overboard) On the night that little Rickon was born, six direwolf pups were born too. They made their way into the hands of the Starks as direwolves are wont to do and had two years to grow before they had to face threats to their family instead of just a few months. Two years is still a puppy, but to a dog they are almost grown. They don’t outgrow Winterfell castle, it’s corridors made for a Stark and their direwolf to walk side-by-side. They are well behaved and obedient to their people, even Catelyn warms up to them and soon no one in the castle can imagine not having them around.
When the king arrives they sit primly beside the Stark children until the king’s family approaches the Starks. Greywind growls harshly at Jaime, warning him away, he is relaxed under Robb’s hand but furious in face. Nymeria stands to growl at Cersei, Arya’s reluctant hand seemingly the only thing stopping the wolf from attacking. Summer presses himself against Bran’s legs as they approach, almost making the boy topple over but for his iron grip on the wolf’s fur. Shaggy Dog becomes a wave of frantic energy, wrapping Rickon in his thick fur, hiding him from view. The only direwolf that is seemingly calm is Lady, but when Sansa places her hand on the wolf’s ruff she finds that Lady is tense, and the vibrating under her hand tells Sansa that something is very, very wrong with these people. Ghost and Jon were not at the reception of course, but when Tyrion approaches them, Ghost shies away behind him. Theon insists that they do not ignore the warnings of the direwolves, though Eddard their father is still enchanted by the man he was raised with.
It is understandable to them, after all Jon and Theon are not their brothers but the wolves have made them inseparable. Wolves are loyal to all who they see as their pack and to Eddard, Robert was part of his pack. But the Stark children walk on eggshells while the Southern Royal Family are around. Sansa skips meals, Arya leaves the castle grounds, Bran stays dirt-bound, Robb retreats, and Rickon spends too much time in the deep crypts. They retreat and escape the visit unscathed.
But when it is time for the King to leave Eddard is too blinded by his love for the man to refuse his requests. Jon, Ghost and Benjen are sent to the Wall with Tyrion, over Jon’s protests and Ghost’s glares, Eddard promises to send for him again, promises to tell him of his mother when he returns. And like it or not, Jon trusts Eddard with everything he has, and so does Ghost, so he agrees to go. Eddard and Sansa and Arya and Bran go the opposite way, towards an altogether different kind of danger as Lady tenses, Nymeria howls and Summer attempts to herd Bran away. But Eddard believes that Robb can be trusted and Eddard always tells them the truth.
Eddard may love his brother in all but blood but he is not stupid. The direwolves have never acted like this before. The night after they leave the camp is full of howling and the forests howl back, this is grief I’m hearing thinks Eddard and he shivers with the accuracy of that statement. The South is never safe for a Stark, Eddard knows that better than anyone – he had lost his whole family there after all and the bone-chilling howls of wolves convinced their favourite people were on the death row brings him to order his children never to let their direwolves out of their sight. Brings him to forbid Sansa from entering the wheelhouse of the queen. Robert doesn’t understand but neither does he interfere, just laughs and calls him paranoid. Is it paranoia when the previous king killed your Elder Brother? Is it paranoia when even gentle Lady has growled at Joffrey?
Robert thinks the direwolves are just ill-trained dogs, perhaps if Eddard had not lived with them for two years he would be inclined to agree. But Eddard knew that this was brand new behaviour. Sure, Shaggy Dog was half-wild and hated to be pet but Rickon was usually just as wild, and neither were aggressive for aggression sake. Nymeria had always been full of energy but most of the time that energy was spent bounding through the corridors or the forests the Starks refused to fear, usually it was not bundled up in a big ball of tension. So Eddard makes his loyalties and his opinions clear to the king, throwing words back in his face when he mentions Cersei doesn’t like the direwolves. Eddard thinks he makes it clear to the man that he will not harm his children’s animals.
The Queen wants Nymeria killed. His girls are sobbing, pleading. It breaks his heart. He appeals to Robert. Nymeria is big enough now that he should be grateful that his son was only nipped at if what Arya told him was true. Why did Sansa lie? Eddard knew she did, he was her father after all. Sansa was crying too. She was trying to fix it. She didn’t want anyone to get hurt so she had lied, her confession came out of her in gulping chunks but no one was listening. Eddard appealed to Robert. Appealed to his brother but he turned away. The Lannister woman called for Trant. His girls were at each other’s throats, both clinging and pulling at each other. Heavy footsteps approached, the knight that was to kill his daughter’s direwolves. The creatures that had been sent to protect them. Without their direwolves his daughters would be defenseless in the South. He appeals again to Robert as he leaves the tent and all Eddard sees is the anger in his brother’s eyes at his threat as he orders Eddard to bring his children South with him. Never. Not without protection. Not after what happened last time. Sansa and Arya would not have the same fate befall them as Lyanna did.
They could fight their way out, Nymeria and Lady were already heading that way but what about the rest of his men, shifting behind him wondering if a fight was breaking out? What about the civilians he had brought South to help Robert build? No. Better to do this diplomatically. So he takes a deep breath and he lies. The queen’s face is sickingly satisfied, his daughters are stricken. Everyone in the room believes him. Even the men at his back are shocked and horrified. But the North is loyal, the North remembers and though they may not agree with his decision, may abhore it, they respect it because they remember that the Starks are the Kings of Winter though that title no longer exists, they know that should the Long Night come again – which it will, and soon – they will need him. So everyone in the room backs off and Eddard leads his daughters and the two quiet direwolves out of the room. He bids them pack their bags, sends Jory to Bran and then to the rest of the Northmen. "We’ll want to get an early start tomorrow." The girls look at him with tearstreaked eyes and nod, trying to be brave, and somehow manage not to look betrayed. They whisper goodbye in the ears of Nymeria and Lady then run off, they don’t look back and Eddard is proud of them for it. Jory’s eyes shine with the betrayal the girls didn’t show but he goes to do his bidding anyway. Eddard is left alone with direwolves that almost reach his elbows. They would keep growing he knows. These wolves are large enough to tear him into pieces in seconds but Eddard knows that they would sit peacefully and let him execute them as traitors to the Southron crown.
His men are loyal to him, this Eddard knows beyond a doubt, yet they love the wolves that have found a home with his family. They’d overlook it. Eddard had been loyal too, once. Before Robert decided the South was going to continue to be a place of horror for Starks. Eddard doubted Robert had anyone loyal left in his corner. It had been most of the reason he agreed to come. But after everything they had lost in the war – Eddard wasn’t going to let his family lose more. Robert wasn’t a wolf. He was a stag and Eddard wouldn’t let him tear his family apart. He stood there, bracketed by his daughters’ pups as the Hound returned from his hunt. The butcher’s boy was a Northman, had been friends with Arya since they were babes. Now here he was, slaughtered like an animal. Protective anger raced through his bones – Southern nobility thought themselves run entirely on different rules than commoners he knew – but one Northern child was dead by this man’s hands, who could say who would be next. And this man. Had he just been following orders? Or was he that much of a monster? Eddard had kept the circumstances of several children’s deaths to himself after all, and wasn’t Theon just a child he kidnapped?
In the end it is Lady and Nymeria’s stillness at his sides that convinces him to walk away from the man, direwolves following obediently behind him. He finds a quiet corner, a corner that will keep him and the wolves hidden. Jory finds him anyway, an hour later and hesitates before he speaks. "We are ready to go South the moment the king commands it." The King… what had the South ever brought any of them? The Direwolves lay beside him still expecting an execution that would never come. Jory opens his mouth to say something – he is going to offer to execute the wolves for him, Eddard knows that. Eddard speaks over him. "We leave now. We go North, we’ll ride hard until we get safely there." The surprise on Jory’s face is… It sends shivers through Eddard’s spine. He had played his role so well… Eddard wasn’t gunning for war but he had no intention of following the Lannister woman’s orders – or Robert’s anymore.
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On the night that little Rickon was born, six direwolf pups were born too. They made their way into the hands of the Starks as direwolves are wont to do and had two years to grow before they had to face threats to their family instead of just a few months. Two years is still a puppy, but to a dog they are almost grown. They don’t outgrow Winterfell castle, it’s corridors made for a Stark and their direwolf to walk side-by-side. They are well behaved and obedient to their people, even Catelyn warms up to them and soon no one in the castle can imagine not having them around.
When the king arrives they sit primly beside the Stark children until the king’s family approaches the Starks. Greywind growls harshly at Jaime, warning him away, he is relaxed under Robb’s hand but furious in face. Nymeria stands to growl at Cersei, Arya’s reluctant hand seemingly the only thing stopping the wolf from attacking. Summer presses himself against Bran’s legs as they approach, almost making the boy topple over but for his iron grip on the wolf’s fur. Shaggy Dog becomes a wave of frantic energy, wrapping Rickon in his thick fur, hiding him from view. The only direwolf that is seemingly calm is Lady, but when Sansa places her hand on the wolf’s ruff she finds that Lady is tense, and the vibrating under her hand tells Sansa that something is very, very wrong with these people. Ghost and Jon were not at the reception of course, but when Tyrion approaches them, Ghost shies away behind him. Theon insists that they do not ignore the warnings of the direwolves, though Eddard their father is still enchanted by the man he was raised with.
It is understandable to them, after all Jon and Theon are not their brothers but the wolves have made them inseparable. Wolves are loyal to all who they see as their pack and to Eddard, Robert was part of his pack. But the Stark children walk on eggshells while the Southern Royal Family are around. Sansa skips meals, Arya leaves the castle grounds, Bran stays dirt-bound, Robb retreats, and Rickon spends too much time in the deep crypts. They retreat and escape the visit unscathed.
But when it is time for the King to leave Eddard is too blinded by his love for the man to refuse his requests. Jon, Ghost and Benjen are sent to the Wall with Tyrion, over Jon’s protests and Ghost’s glares, Eddard promises to send for him again, promises to tell him of his mother when he returns. And like it or not, Jon trusts Eddard with everything he has, and so does Ghost, so he agrees to go. Eddard and Sansa and Arya and Bran go the opposite way, towards an altogether different kind of danger as Lady tenses, Nymeria howls and Summer attempts to herd Bran away. But Eddard believes that Robb can be trusted and Eddard always tells them the truth.
Eddard may love his brother in all but blood but he is not stupid. The direwolves have never acted like this before. The night after they leave the camp is full of howling and the forests howl back, this is grief I’m hearing thinks Eddard and he shivers with the accuracy of that statement. The South is never safe for a Stark, Eddard knows that better than anyone – he had lost his whole family there after all and the bone-chilling howls of wolves convinced their favourite people were on the death row brings him to order his children never to let their direwolves out of their sight. Brings him to forbid Sansa from entering the wheelhouse of the queen. Robert doesn’t understand but neither does he interfere, just laughs and calls him paranoid. Is it paranoia when the previous king killed your Elder Brother? Is it paranoia when even gentle Lady has growled at Joffrey?
Robert thinks the direwolves are just ill-trained dogs, perhaps if Eddard had not lived with them for two years he would be inclined to agree. But Eddard knew that this was brand new behaviour. Sure, Shaggy Dog was half-wild and hated to be pet but Rickon was usually just as wild, and neither were aggressive for aggression sake. Nymeria had always been full of energy but most of the time that energy was spent bounding through the corridors or the forests the Starks refused to fear, usually it was not bundled up in a big ball of tension. So Eddard makes his loyalties and his opinions clear to the king, throwing words back in his face when he mentions Cersei doesn’t like the direwolves. Eddard thinks he makes it clear to the man that he will not harm his children’s animals.
The Queen wants Nymeria killed. His girls are sobbing, pleading. It breaks his heart. He appeals to Robert. Nymeria is big enough now that he should be grateful that his son was only nipped at if what Arya told him was true. Why did Sansa lie? Eddard knew she did, he was her father after all. Sansa was crying too. She was trying to fix it. She didn’t want anyone to get hurt so she had lied, her confession came out of her in gulping chunks but no one was listening. Eddard appealed to Robert. Appealed to his brother but he turned away. The Lannister woman called for Trant. His girls were at each other’s throats, both clinging and pulling at each other. Heavy footsteps approached, the knight that was to kill his daughter’s direwolves. The creatures that had been sent to protect them. Without their direwolves his daughters would be defenseless in the South. He appeals again to Robert as he leaves the tent and all Eddard sees is the anger in his brother’s eyes at his threat as he orders Eddard to bring his children South with him. Never. Not without protection. Not after what happened last time. Sansa and Arya would not have the same fate befall them as Lyanna did.
They could fight their way out, Nymeria and Lady were already heading that way but what about the rest of his men, shifting behind him wondering if a fight was breaking out? What about the civilians he had brought South to help Robert build? No. Better to do this diplomatically. So he takes a deep breath and he lies. The queen’s face is sickingly satisfied, his daughters are stricken. Everyone in the room believes him. Even the men at his back are shocked and horrified. But the North is loyal, the North remembers and though they may not agree with his decision, may abhore it, they respect it because they remember that the Starks are the Kings of Winter though that title no longer exists, they know that should the Long Night come again – which it will, and soon – they will need him. So everyone in the room backs off and Eddard leads his daughters and the two quiet direwolves out of the room. He bids them pack their bags, sends Jory to Bran and then to the rest of the Northmen. "We’ll want to get an early start tomorrow." The girls look at him with tearstreaked eyes and nod, trying to be brave, and somehow manage not to look betrayed. They whisper goodbye in the ears of Nymeria and Lady then run off, they don’t look back and Eddard is proud of them for it. Jory’s eyes shine with the betrayal the girls didn’t show but he goes to do his bidding anyway. Eddard is left alone with direwolves that almost reach his elbows. They would keep growing he knows. These wolves are large enough to tear him into pieces in seconds but Eddard knows that they would sit peacefully and let him execute them as traitors to the Southron crown.
His men are loyal to him, this Eddard knows beyond a doubt, yet they love the wolves that have found a home with his family. They’d overlook it. Eddard had been loyal too, once. Before Robert decided the South was going to continue to be a place of horror for Starks. Eddard doubted Robert had anyone loyal left in his corner. It had been most of the reason he agreed to come. But after everything they had lost in the war – Eddard wasn’t going to let his family lose more. Robert wasn’t a wolf. He was a stag and Eddard wouldn’t let him tear his family apart. He stood there, bracketed by his daughters’ pups as the Hound returned from his hunt. The butcher’s boy was a Northman, had been friends with Arya since they were babes. Now here he was, slaughtered like an animal. Protective anger raced through his bones – Southern nobility thought themselves run entirely on different rules than commoners he knew – but one Northern child was dead by this man’s hands, who could say who would be next. And this man. Had he just been following orders? Or was he that much of a monster? Eddard had kept the circumstances of several children’s deaths to himself after all, and wasn’t Theon just a child he kidnapped?
In the end it is Lady and Nymeria’s stillness at his sides that convinces him to walk away from the man, direwolves following obediently behind him. He finds a quiet corner, a corner that will keep him and the wolves hidden. Jory finds him anyway, an hour later and hesitates before he speaks. "We are ready to go South the moment the king commands it." The King… what had the South ever brought any of them? The Direwolves lay beside him still expecting an execution that would never come. Jory opens his mouth to say something – he is going to offer to execute the wolves for him, Eddard knows that. Eddard speaks over him. "We leave now. We go North, we’ll ride hard until we get safely there." The surprise on Jory’s face is… It sends shivers through Eddard’s spine. He had played his role so well… Eddard wasn’t gunning for war but he had no intention of following the Lannister woman’s orders – or Robert’s anymore.