New chapter is live.
Settle in, take your time, and let’s see what waits in the dark 🖤 ✦ Winterfell was not a city.
It was a castle.
Like the Red Keep in King’s Landing, its purpose was to house and protect its lord.
It did not serve the many functions of a city, and no true townsfolk lived within its walls.
Legend said Brandon the Builder had raised it with the help of giants.
As a noble house’s seat, Winterfell was impressive enough.
Compared with the other structure attributed to the same man—the Wall—it was nothing in either scale or grandeur.
Leaving aside the surrounding villages and the winter town, which stood mostly empty in summer, Winterfell enclosed less than twenty acres.
Three of those acres belonged to the godswood.
Those who lived within the walls were retainers, servants, household men and their families, along with a substantial garrison—one of the largest permanent forces in the North outside the Night’s Watch.
As a ranger who had stood watch on the Wall and killed an Other in the Haunted Forest, Aeg found that few things in this world could overawe him.
His first thought at seeing Winterfell was not wonder, but mild surprise.
The political heart of the North, the home of so many important people in the story, was this small?
No wonder receiving a king had thrown the place into chaos.
Then again, he realized, he was unconsciously comparing everything to the Wall.
By that measure, nothing in the world deserved to be called large.
It was already late when Aeg followed Benjen through Winterfell’s gate.
“Welcome home, Lord Benjen,” said a guard who had clearly served House Stark for years.
He took the First Ranger’s reins with practiced eagerness.
“I’ll have someone arrange your room and a bath at once.” “No need.
Where is my brother?” “My lord just finished receiving the king.
He should be busy in the keep now.
I am not certain.” “The king is already here?” Benjen frowned.
“Damn it.
I was two days early.
At least I have not missed the feast.
See to your work.
I can find him myself.” “Yes, my lord.” Winterfell was packed.
Horses, carts, chests, and servants filled the yard that should have been open.
Robert Baratheon’s progress north had brought hundreds of guards and attendants, and the queen and princess had brought even more luggage.
The castle could not possibly hold everyone.
Many would have to be lodged in the winter town outside the walls.
The gate and yard were a churn of movement.
Benjen led Aeg through high and low passages with the ease of a man moving through his childhood home, and soon they reached the main keep where the Stark family lived.
After a brief word with the servants, they found the Lord of Winterfell stealing a moment in his solar.
“Benjen!” Eddard Stark had been giving orders about the evening’s guests.
At the sight of his brother, a genuine smile broke across his face.
He rose, dismissed the servant with a gesture, and embraced Benjen hard.
“How is life at the Wall?
As hard as ever?” “I am used to it.” Benjen clapped his brother on the arm and stepped back.
“But something has happened beyond the Wall.
I believe the Warden of the North must hear of it.” “The wildlings, yes.
I read something of it in the letter.” Lord Stark gave a tired smile.
He had dark brown hair, the same long face as Benjen, and even with warmth in his expression he carried the weight of command.
He was the first true ruler Aeg had met since crossing over.
“You have no idea how weary Robert has made me today.
The man has grown as fat as a boar.
Can this wait until after the welcome feast?” “No.
What I am about to tell you matters more than the feast, the king, the queen, and anything else in the world.” Benjen shook his head solemnly, then looked back at Aeg and beckoned him forward.
“This is one of my rangers.
He will tell you what happened.” Seeing the seriousness in his brother’s face, Eddard put aside his smile and turned to Aeg.
“Well met.
What are you called?” Only in the North, Aeg thought, could a common soldier be addressed so courteously by a great lord.
The kindness was likely meant for the black cloak he wore more than for him personally.
“My lord may call me Aeg.
I am not from Westeros, and I have no family name in the usual sense of the Seven Kingdoms.” “Not from Westeros?” Eddard seemed to be hearing of a foreign black brother for the first time.
He studied Aeg with open curiosity, then glanced toward Benjen for explanation.
“Aeg comes from some continent west of Westeros that none of us have heard of,” Benjen said with a shrug.
“He was ranging with Ser Waymar Royce when they encountered the Others.
He escaped back to the Wall and brought us warning.” “The Others?” * * * Eddard’s expression darkened.
When he looked back at Aeg, suspicion had entered his eyes.
He did not believe the Others existed.
To him, Ser Waymar Royce had most likely vanished in a wildling ambush.
That was bad enough.
Waymar’s father, Yohn Royce, was one of Jon Arryn’s most important bannermen.
On the journey north to send his son to the Watch, Bronze Yohn had stayed at Winterfell, and every word and gesture had carried the same unspoken hope: that the Lord of Winterfell would look after his son.
A ranger’s disappearance could hardly be blamed on the Lord of Winterfell.
Even so, it left Eddard with the uncomfortable sense that he had somehow failed a father’s trust.
✦ ✦ ✦ Want to keep going?
I hope this chapter gave you another reason to stay with the story.
There’s still plenty ahead, and things are only starting to unfold.