Lord Eddard Stark had long been held as the measure of what a man ought to be: strong, honorable, unyielding. Many cubs on Bear Island idolized him, and more than a few women would have given everything to warm his bed.
Yet rumors of his supposed corruption, of siring a bastard, never truly faded. Some claimed the child had been born of a dornish woman. He did not have the red hair of the Tully's kin, but he looked uncannily like a younger Eddard Stark. Another rumor whispered that the Stark butler himself was that bastard, the first of them.
To all such talk, Maege Mormont had only one response.
"Pui." She spat.
"If his 'sullied honor' is a bastard, then he may as well be Baelor the Blessed," Maege growled whenever the subject arose. "Eddard Stark is a great man who at least took responsibility. Not like those fuckers who leave their bastards to suffer and die."
Lady Mormont and now, head of her house, she had said it often enough that no one dared contradict her.
And now that same Lord Stark was coming for Jorah's head.
Her nephew had fucked everything up trying to please that Hightower bitch of a wife. Maege could not have cared less about petty rumors or southern gossip, but dealing in slaves? That was unforgivable. Worse still, the fool had fled, taking with him what little coin House Mormont possessed.
That fucker.
Maege frowned and took a steadying breath.
Knock. Knock.
"Come in."
A girl of perhaps twelve entered, carrying a cup of tea. Maege took it and drank.
"Feeling better, Mother?" Dacey asked, concern plain on her face.
"No," Maege replied bluntly. "But we have guests to receive."
Doubts, questions, accusations, none of that mattered. She would not shrink from them. Fear belonged to Jorah, not to her.
"Bring your sisters. Let's go," Maege ordered. Pregnant or not, she would show no weakness.
And so the She-Bear went to meet her guests.
_ _ __ _ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Lord Eddard Stark rode at the front. Behind him, astride a black mare, was a young man dressed so finely he looked like a knight from some girl's fairy tale.
Definitely not Ned's, Maege mused.
"Lady Maege," Stark greeted.
"Lord Eddard," she replied curtly, without fear.
"I suppose you know why I am here," Ned said grimly.
"Aye. I do," Maege answered, meeting his eyes and caging her fury. "Sadly, the fucker ran off with his Hightower whore."
She gestured toward the hall. "Come. We may not have much, but you are welcome."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ __ _ _
The Solar of House Mormont
In the solar, Maege sat across from Ned Stark and the masked youth.
"How—" Ned began.
"Bad," Maege cut in without hesitation. "The fucker stole every penny this house had. If I had caught him first, I'd have cut off his balls and sent him swimming with the fishes."
Ned closed his eyes briefly. Then he made his decision.
"Sebastian."
"Yes, my lord," the young man replied, drawing Maege's curiosity.
"We will use that plan."
"But, my lord—" Sebastian began.
"Sebastian," Ned interrupted calmly, "winters are hard. The Starks endure because we do not stand alone."
Silence settled over the room.
"Yes, my lord," Sebastian said at last, bowing.
"I will arrange everything for tomorrow," he added, then withdrew, leaving them alone.
Lady Mormont and Lord Stark relaxed a little, sharing vodka between them.
Gulp.
"Ahhh!" Maege exhaled. "This shit is good."
"Aye," Ned agreed, drinking deeply.
She smirked. "That your bastard?"
Ned spat his drink.
Cough. Cough.
Maege laughed "Easy. I know he's not. Too fancy to be born of you."
Ned rolled his eyes, smiling despite himself. "No. Just a talented lad I picked up along the way."
She took another drink. "Drinking with you brings back memories."
Maege smiled.
"I still remember that stupid lad who challenged me to a drinking contest. Poor sod lost to a She-Bear."
"Aye," Ned said softly, remembering a time when his only worries were training, laughter, and living. His father, his brother, and himself, happy, unburdened, long before lordship weighed on him.
Especially the paperwork, he thought.
"For a better future, my lady," he said.
"For a better future, my lord."
They clinked their cups and drank deep into the night.
_ _ _ _ _ _ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ __ ___ _ _ __ _ _
The next day, Ned gestured toward the table.
"Sebastian, show us the plan."
"Yes, my lord."
Sebastian unrolled a parchment filled with calculations and trade projections.
"Bear Island is poor—" Maege did not flinch "—but during my travels, I brought back some ideas. As you know, the Starks and the Cerwyns began producing vodka. The North's favorite."
"We received complaints," Ned added. "So I asked Sebastian to find an alternative."
"Rum, my lady," Sebastian said, producing a bottle and two cups. "Sugarcane works best, but I found another option more suitable here. Beets."
They drank. Maege considered.
"The soil here is useless for much else," Sebastian continued. "Beets grow easily. They could provide food,and rum. The Bear's Paw. Strong. Earthy."
He poured again.
Maege and Ned exchanged a look.
"A food source and an alcohol producer," Maege said slowly. "This could work. But—" she added, "—such investments cost money."
"Ten thousand gold coins," Ned said without blinking.
"No interest," he added, to Sebastian's visible disappointment.
Lady Maege studied him for a long moment. Ned Stark's word was as good as coin, even better, in truth.
At last, she shoved her chair back with a scrape of wood on stone and went down on one knee, more a warrior's drop than a lady's courtesy.
"House Mormont will not forget this," she said gruffly. "You have our gratitude, my lord."
Then she grinned, sharp and sudden.
"Pick one."
Ned leaned back, a small smirk hidden behind his cup.
Silence followed, until Sebastian realized the words were meant for him.
He blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I'd offer Dacey," Maege laughed, "but any other will do. Pick one."
Understanding struck.
A heartbeat later, the dutiful butler fled the room like a deer chased by a bear, laughter and clinking cups echoing behind him.
_ _ _ _ _ __ _ _ _ _ __ _ _ _ __ _ _ _ _ _
Later that evening, Sebastian sulked.
"Lord Stark, that was not funny."
"Aye," Ned replied, amused. "But you should start thinking about it."
"Why?" Sebastian asked, genuinely confused.
"Because that was not the only marriage proposal I received after your visit south."
Sebastian groaned.
Ned Stark laughed.
_ _ _ ___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __ _ _}
A/N: Hope you like it, leave stones, reviews or yeah.
I just realized that the chapter is shorter than usual, I'll try to make it longer the next time.