News spread quickly through Winterfell—Lord Eddard Stark would ride south with the king.
Within days, Eddard would leave the gray walls of his home behind to serve as Robert Baratheon's new Hand of the King.
Another piece of news followed close behind: Jon Snow, the quiet bastard son of Winterfell, would leave as well—heading north to the Wall to join the Night's Watch.
After long talks with Tyrion Lannister and his own restless thoughts, Jon had made his choice. At the Wall, he said, no one would care about his birth—only about duty and courage.
Catelyn had protested bitterly; Ned had shouted for once in his life. They rarely quarreled, but that night their voices echoed down the hall.
And then Jon stepped between them.
He told Ned plainly he did not belong in castles gilded with honor he could never hold. Robb and Bran would inherit the lands, Arya and Sansa would be wed to great houses. He had neither a title nor a place. He wanted to serve, to matter.
That honesty silenced even his father.
When dawn came over the frosted battlements, the king's procession was ready to depart.
The courtyard bustled with motion—horses stamping, armor clanking, servants calling orders through the mist.
In the quiet of a small courtyard nearby, Ned summoned Lynn Auger.
"Lynn," Ned began, voice heavy with exhaustion and worry. "Robert's command is law. I must go. But the North…"
He drew a slow breath. "The North will need you."
Lynn inclined his head. "I understand, my lord."
Ned stepped closer, speaking not as a lord but as a father passing burden to a son.
"Robb's a good boy—brave, headstrong, but still too young. Ser Rodrik has wisdom, but age dulls even the sharpest steel. I need someone to bridge the gap between them."
He turned toward the north, the land he loved pressed against the horizon.
"Winter is coming, Lynn. The North must gather strength to survive it. The Wall's garrison is thin. The wildlings grow restless. And…" He hesitated. "The Lannisters will not forget what happened here."
Lynn understood. The Ned Stark before him wasn't just entrusting his son—he was entrusting the survival of his house.
"You've saved Bran twice already," Ned continued. "You've proven your valor, your loyalty, and your judgment. In my eyes, you're more than a common guard now. Stay here. Guide Robb and Ser Rodrik. Protect this castle—and everyone in it."
Lynn stood silent for a heartbeat. His own plans had been forming quietly: to someday cross the Narrow Sea, to reach Daenerys before the storm of history swallowed her whole. Yet looking at Ned, he felt an older, simpler duty ignite inside him.
"I will," he said finally. "I'll serve the Starks—and the North—with all that I am."
Relief softened Ned's face. He gripped Lynn's shoulder. "I knew you were the right man."
But Lynn's expression tightened. "My lord… grant me one request in return."
Ned raised a brow. "Name it."
"When you reach King's Landing—be careful. Especially with the Lannisters."
Ned frowned. "Because of what Bran saw?"
"Perhaps," Lynn answered carefully. "Even though I promised to keep their secret, they'll never sleep easily while a Stark breathes. The Lannisters always repay their debts—and silence what can't be bought."
Ned's eyes darkened.
"King's Landing won't welcome your honesty," Lynn said softly. "The game there has no rules. Don't trust smiles, my lord. And whatever friendship you think you see—especially from men like Littlefinger—know it hides a blade."
Ned's hand twitched slightly at the mention of that name. His brother Benjen had warned him much the same.
"And one more thing," Lynn added. "Don't forget the disemboweled stag you found in the woods—the omen at the very beginning. If the king insists on hunting again… choose his guards yourself. Pick Northerners you trust completely. Because hunting," he said grimly, "is when men die easily—especially kings."
Ned's heart clenched. He had questioned Lord Arryn's death from the start. Robert's letter had called it sudden—too sudden. The man had been strong, healthy, laughing one day and dead the next.
"How do you know all this?" he asked, gripping Lynn's shoulders, a hint of desperation in his voice.
Lynn met his eyes squarely. "I don't. But I feel it. The Lannisters won't sit idle. And when blood spills, it will start with a hunt."
Ned stared at him for a long time. Then, slowly, he nodded. "I'll remember. Every word."
The clatter of hooves echoed across the yard. The king was calling.
Ned turned to go, his cloak catching the morning wind.
"Take care of my family," he said over his shoulder. "And the North… it's yours to watch until I return."
Lynn bowed his head. "By my sword and by my honor, I swear it."
From the mist, Ned's voice drifted back—steady, resolute, and already distant.
"Thank you. Winterfell is in good hands."
He mounted, joined the waiting party, and rode through the gates. The hooves faded into the gray morning until only silence remained.
Lynn stood there long after they'd gone. He had saved Bran. He had reshaped one small thread of fate. But Ned Stark's road to King's Landing still gleamed with daggers unseen.
When he finally turned back, Robb stood at the steps of the keep—his young face pale with worry.
"Lynn," he said quietly, descending to meet him. "Father says you'll stay to help me."
"Yes, my lord," Lynn answered simply. "Until he returns—or until the North no longer needs me."
Robb nodded once. His voice steadied. "Then where do we begin? Father said you'd help me learn to think like a commander."
Lynn's gaze drifted north, to where the clouds hung heavy over the Wall.
"First," he said, "we find where the real danger lies. But before we can fight it, we make Winterfell unbreakable."
He looked across the towers and walls—the same walls that Lannister gold and southern treachery would someday try to breach.
The enemy had already sent assassins once. There would be others.
Winter would come—with cold men and colder hearts.
But before that day, Lynn had work to do:
fortify the castle, strengthen the wolves, and prepare the pack before the next storm began to howl.
And beyond the Wall, something ancient had already begun to stir.