"You cannot continue to run off like this, little lordling," I cried, taking my little brother's hand.

His chestnut hair formed a curtain over his eyes as he bowed his head. A small twinge of guilt poked in my stomach as I watched his lower lip jut out.

"No need for tears, Philip," I insisted, kneeling down to see eye to eye. I brushed his hair out of his face, lifting his face with my thumb.

"I'm s-sorry," he stuttered.

"Just don't do it again. It's not safe to run about in the woods. There may be wildings in this part of the country." I gave him a small smile, which he returned as I added, "I just want to keep you safe."

Philip nodded and held onto my hand as I led him back to our company.

"There you are. Mother has been worried sick," peeped Noreena. She sprinted away from her maid towards Philip and me, yelling, "Mother! Mother! Look there!"

"Thank the gods," Mother sighed, her face looking more relaxed with each passing second. Philip ran to her as quickly as his short legs could take him as Noreena's maid caught up with her.

"Ladies do not run in such a fashion," she cautioned.

Noreena walked slowly with purpose back towards her horse. I could not help but smirk as she held her head high, eyes straight, hands folded in front of her. Only 11 and already more of a lady than myself.

"Analysa..." I turned cautiously back to my mother. I could tell from her eerily calm voice that she was not pleased with me.

"You should not have gone after Philip alone. It's dangerous," she added.

"I'm sorry, Mother. I was just worried."

She smiled softly, hugging Philip to her chest but looking at me, 'I understand the feeling."

Returning her smile, I watched her for a moment. Her soft brown eyes swimming with concern. No matter what, in her eyes, I would never be older than the little boy she was hugging to her chest, hoping to keep safe from the world.

"Alright, everyone is found. Then, onwards, and let's not stop again before Winterfell," Father called over his shoulder.

He was already on horseback as my older brother, Willem, swung his leg over onto his great black stallion.

"On you go," Mother nodded me towards my horse.

I softly patted my mare's neck before pulling myself into the saddle. It was another three hour's ride to Winterfell although my father was intent on making it in two. I tapped my heels, propelling my horse forward to catch up with my father and Willem.

"Ready to be in Winterfell, Father?" I asked.

"Shall we race?" he asked with a boisterous laugh, tossing back his shaggy strawberry blond hair.

"On three?" I returned.

"Watch out, Ana. Try not to choke on the dust," Willem teased with a wide grin, looking just like my father though younger.

I glared back at him for a moment before an idea made me smirk. "Three."

I was off like a flash. My father, quick to the jest, was hot on my heels, but as I hazarded a glance over my shoulder, I saw Willem mouth a rather inappropriate word. I could hear my father's laughter coming closer to me. I tried to hold him off, but his stallion overtook my mare after a few moments. We continued galloping, laughing together for several minutes, before he slowed the pace.

"How long has it been, Father, since you've seen Ned Stark?"

"Gods, 10, no five and ten years, the year before you were born. It's strange to think. It would be as if you did not see your brother or sister for such a time."

"You grew up in Winterfell and left at what age?"

"I was seven and ten, a man grown."

"You returned to our house after your eldest brother passed, yes?"

"No, it was after my second eldest passed. It was a blessing to grow up in Winterfell. It seemed a curse both of them passing at six and ten. I think my father wished for me to reach that age before bringing me back home."

I glanced over as Willem caught up to us, "Well, either you did not believe in curses, Father, or you were willing to tempt fate with Will."

Father chuckled, "I don't believe in curses or fate. You make your own choices and your own destiny."

"Well, selfishly, I'm thrilled you weren't wrong about curses, Father," Willem added.

At seven and ten, he already outlived the last young men who grew up of House Samelson.

"If I ever had any doubt, Son, I would have sent you away," Father insisted.

Willem grinned our father's grin, "I know, Father."

We rode slowly, allowing the rest of the company to catch up. My mother cast a disapproving look at my father, who could only smile in return.

"You had a host of men riding with you for protection," Father stated.

"You should not encourage her to reckless behavior," Mother replied quietly.

"Lara, it was just a bit of fun," Father called.

Mother shook her head and led her horse on while Father followed. I watched as they rode ahead. Mother feigned disinterested as Father cajoled her. She couldn't hold back her smile for long. I wanted that, to have someone make me smile in spite of myself.

It wasn't long before we saw the walls of Winterfell and not a moment too soon. My thighs were burning after our long ride. It shouldn't have taken a full five days, but our pace was slow. It was little wonder my father had elected not to visit for so long. Finally all of us children were old enough to make the journey – however slowly.

My parents were the first ones in the gate, followed by my younger siblings. Will and I came after. I swung off of my horse and ran my hand down the mare's neck, easing her.

"Ned." My father and Ned gave each other a hearty embracing. There was always something about male friendships that warmed my heart.

My eyes passed through the crowd, but they didn't get far before they stopped cold and I felt frozen in place by a pair of blue eyes.