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"Ugh."
Ned dreamed.
He dreamed he had returned to Winterfell. He stood once more in the crypts, beside the stone statue of his sister.
Bran and Rickon were there, speaking softly.
Bran was being carried on the back of a wildling woman, while Rickon walked beside him, his direwolf Shaggydog at his side.
…
"Awake? Then do not move, Do you want water?"
The voice broke through the dream.
Ned opened his eyes and turned toward the sound.
A young man about Robb's age stood nearby, grilling meat over a metal plate. Beneath it burned an unfamiliar blue flame, licking at the surface.
Ned frowned slightly.
He had heard of wildfire before. Wildfire burned green.
This flame was blue.
Jimmy, unaware of Ned's thoughts, would have explained easily if asked. It was just an alcohol burner.
Ned studied his surroundings carefully.
A cave.
Beyond the entrance, he could faintly hear the sound of waves crashing against the shore. Either they were near the coast or on an island entirely.
There were no fishing tools. No nets. No harpoons. Nothing to suggest survival here depended on the sea.
This was a refuge. Not a home.
He looked down at his arm.
Clean white bandages covered the wound.
"Do not get out of bed," Jimmy said calmly. "Your injuries were severe. If you want to keep walking properly, you will listen. Are you hungry? Or thirsty?"
Ned hesitated.
"Thank you. If possible… I would like some wine. And… who are you? Where am I?"
He remained cautious. He did not know if this young man was a friend or an enemy.
"You do not need to be so tense, Old Wolf," Jimmy said casually. "My name is Jimmy Halstead, I mean you no harm."
He gestured toward the cave entrance.
"This place belongs to the Summer Sea. A small island, I call it Old Wolf Island."
He handed Ned a cup.
"But no wine. Alcohol slows healing. Drink water."
Jimmy helped him sit upright and placed a small table across his lap.
Steak, Bread, Mashed potatoes, Vegetables.
Food suited to a Westerosi noble.
Only the wine had been replaced with water.
"Thank you," Ned said quietly. "Jimmy Halstead."
"Just Jimmy."
Jimmy sat back and studied him.
"You know," he said bluntly, "you had a winning hand and you still lost everything."
He shook his head.
"You and your wife, both of you trusted too easily. Believed too much."
He leaned forward slightly.
"People like you do not belong south of the Neck, Down here, trusting the wrong person gets you killed."
His tone hardened.
"You walked into a den of wolves holding a dead king's letter and expected them to confess."
He laughed faintly.
"I do not know whether to call you honorable or foolish."
He continued without pause.
"You thought they would accept Robert's decree But accepting it meant death. Stannis would kill them. Renly would kill them. Anyone who poisons a king cannot be allowed to live."
He met Ned's gaze directly.
"So tell me. If it is you or them, who do you think they choose?"
Ned's eyes narrowed slightly.
"What do you know?"
Jimmy understood the real question.
"What truth are you looking for?"
Ned spoke slowly.
"Who knows the truth about Joffrey?"
Jimmy smirked faintly.
"You asked the wrong question."
He leaned back.
"You should ask who does not know."
"Varys knows. Littlefinger knows. Even Robert suspected."
He paused.
"And yet you walked straight to Cersei and told her."
He shook his head.
"What were you thinking."
Ned looked away briefly.
"I thought… she might protect her innocent children."
Jimmy laughed quietly.
"Innocent."
He gestured sharply.
"Joffrey is no longer innocent. Because of you, over fifty loyal men died. Your guards. Your household. Your daughters' protectors. Even the stableboys."
His voice softened slightly.
"They died believing in you."
Ned's face tightened.
"My daughters," he said urgently. "What happened to them?"
"Which one?" Jimmy asked casually. "Your eldest daughter is still in the Red Keep, Cersei is keeping her close as leverage."
He paused before continuing.
"Your younger daughter was smarter. Your swordmaster gave his life so she could escape. She fled the castle."
He leaned back slightly.
"You know Flea Bottom, that place that devours the weak. If she is alive, she is hiding there."
Ned's voice grew urgent.
"Can you…"
"Do not start," Jimmy interrupted immediately. "You have not even paid me for saving your life."
He tilted his head.
"And should you not be worrying about your son?"
"Robb has called the banners.?The North marches, He is at war with the old lion."
Ned's face went pale.
"No. This cannot happen. Tywin commands overwhelming forces. He has better arms, better men. And monsters like the Mountain."
He looked at Jimmy.
"I beg you. Deliver a message, Tell Robb to hold Moat Cailin, seek peace. Exchange Tyrion for Sansa."
Jimmy laughed quietly.
"You are dreaming."
He spoke bluntly.
"Tyrion is already free, Your wife released him at the Eyrie."
He shook his head.
"She accomplished nothing except creating a powerful new enemy."
He paused.
"Honestly, she would have done less damage killing him outright."
Ned frowned.
"Tyrion is innocent."
Then realization struck him.
"Littlefinger…"
Jimmy smirked.
"So you finally understand."
"Jon Arryn's death traces back to him."
He waved dismissively.
"But he is just a rat, Do not listen to him. Do not negotiate. Do not hesitate."
Jimmy's voice grew colder.
"If you ever see him again, kill him immediately."
He leaned back.
"The coming battles will not be decided by schemes alone. Steel will matter more than whispers."
He glanced at Ned.
"You should focus on recovering."
He gestured toward a stack of books.
"If you grow bored, read. Or we can play war simulations. Your North needs rebuilding."
His tone turned sharp.
"You were too honorable. Too honest."
He paused.
"So honest your own bannermen mistook it for weakness."
His gaze hardened.
"The North needs fire."
"Only after the burn will stronger roots grow."
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A sudden rush of wind filled the cave.
Ned turned sharply.
A massive crimson eagle descended outside, then shrank mid-air into a small form and hopped through the open window.
Horus.
Jimmy looked up immediately.
"You are back. What did you learn?"
Horus glanced at Ned.
His ex? ression was strange.
"Ned Stark has been executed."
Silence filled the cave.
"King Joffrey ordered his beheading."
Horus continued calmly.
"His head now hangs on a spike above the Red Keep."
He paused.
"Sansa Stark remains betrothed to Joffrey."
"Today, Joffrey forced her to look at her father's head."
"He promised her another gift."
His eyes darkened slightly.
"When his grandfather defeats Robb Stark, he will present Robb's head beside it."
Ned's breathing stopped.
"But your younger daughter escaped," Horus added. "Two separate groups protect her. She is safe."
Ned stared blankly ahead.
His voice trembled.
"I died."
He pointed at himself.
"Then who am I."
Jimmy rolled his eyes.
"If they discovered you escaped, it would ignite rebellion immediately."
He spoke plainly.
"A living Ned Stark inspires loyalty."
"A dead Ned Stark silences it."
He folded his arms.
"No one fears a corpse."
He paused.
"But I do wonder."
"How did they create such a perfect replacement."
Horus answered quietly.
"It was not just a head."
"It was a man."
"I saw him myself."
He continued.
"They dragged a perfect copy of Ned Stark to the Great Sept of Baelor."
"A man with a pockmarked face and long greasy hair wielded Ice."
"He beheaded him before the crowd."
Silence followed.
Ned Stark, the man who had already died, sat frozen in place.
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