For Lost Time

Chapter 15: Epilogue

I cast my eyes upwards and look through the red-gold leaves of the weirwood tree as I sit next to my husband. The spring sunlight bursts through the leaves and over me, warming me all the way through. I glance over at Bran; his eyes are still closed, he's probably greenseeing. He won't be long to wake. I run my hand over his thigh comfortingly.

A soft laughing noise distracts me from my pleasant relaxation and my eyes snap to the clearing around the heart tree. I see my two sons, swinging around small wooden branches, pretending they are swords as they play at being Knights. A smile pulls at my face as I watch my twin sons; Howland and Eddard run and play carefree through the clearing around me.

I always found it odd that Ned grew short and stout, more like a crannog, where as Howland got tall and lean, in the Stark bearing. Bran tells me that somewhere their grandfathers are laughing at the mismatch. Even only at seven namedays, the twin brothers are as rambunctious as ever, constantly trying to find ways to play at being grown men. Bran thinks they want to be great swordsmen like their Uncle.

Ned swings his branch low and swats Howland on his backside as the brothers' circle around each other swinging wildly. Immediately my heart fills with worry. What if they take out their eyes?

"Boys" I call out sternly as I stand up walk over to my sons. "Please be more careful" I say just as Howland gets revenge on his brother by tripping him up.

"Yes mother" they both say in chorus, rolling their eyes. I cast my eyes over their muddy clothes and wonder what I ought to do with my boys. I watch as they both trade a secret smirk and then run off to ignore what they just promised not to do, just like every other time they promise. I turn back to the heart tree and walk over to Bran and sit myself down at his side once more. At least Bran will always do as I say, I think with a wry grin.

"I think it's getting time to have the boys fitted for training swords" says Bran, startling me.

"Gods Bran, you scared me" I say crossly, slapping his belly with the back of my hand.

"Sorry love" he mutters, pulling me into his arms. I don't want to let him off easy, but his warm hands pressing into my back makes me think otherwise.

"You're not sorry" I say.

"No" he admits as I turn in his arms and we watch out sons carry on playing.

"So, you think it's time for them to get their practice swords?" I ask, feeling a nervous shiver run up my arm.

"I think they will keep finding branches, no matter what we do" Bran answers, smiling against my cheek.

"If we send them to the training yard, Tormund will eat them alive" I say, trying to picture the huge Wilding teaching my sons.

"At least they'll be wearing padding" says Bran, trying to sound calm.

"Maybe... we should just let them help clearing up the training yard first" I suggest. "Let them get used to it before they get training swords".

"You know they are sneaking off to watch the men fight and practice almost every day right?" asks Bran looking at me with a teasing grin.

"Really?" I say, feigning surprise. "I had no clue. I only have to go fetch them every other day".

"Okay, point taken" says Bran pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. "Boys! Come over here" he calls out. I watch as matching grins spread across my sons faces as they run over towards us. A feel a tight knot in my chest as I watch my boys run over; I knew they'd eventually have to go off and train so they can grow up to be proper Lords. But it still stings slightly that it's already time to let them into the training yard with the men. Perhaps they are too young, but Bran's right. They'll keep sneaking in, or swinging branches at each other. Or chairs.

"Father" say Ned happily as he bounds over and throws himself into his father's arms. Behind him Howland sits down neatly and leans into Bran's side.

"You're awake father" says Howland happily. I run my fingers through Ned's soft brown hair as he looks up at his father.

"Didn't get bored did you boys?" asks Bran grinning knowingly at his sons.

"No" "Of course not" replies the boys.

"Good... because your mother and I have something we want to talk to you about" says Bran, looking at me. I give him an accepting nod as the boys listen in eagerly. "So what do you two think about going to the training yard every other day and helping out?" asks Bran kindly to his sons.

"You mean we get to learn to use real swords?" asks Ned in awe.

"And armor and shields and stuff?" adds Howland.

"No. I mean, you get to help out Tormund with what needs doing. But you'll get to watch the men fight, and learn that way" says Bran, a fatherly grin crossing his face.

"So we can watch?" asks Howland, looking at his brother.

"Yes, and if Tormund tells you to muck out the stables, or polish some armour?" asks Bran, trailing off.

"We do it" says Ned confidently as a wild smile blooms across his face.

"And..." I say smiling down at my sweet sons. "...if you're good, and do as your told, you might get your own training swords".

"Really?" asks Ned, launching up to hug me, as I watch Howland kick his legs in happiness.

"Okay, okay... calm down" says Bran, smiling happily. "Now, we'll discuss this more later. Now isn't time for your lessons?"

"Father" groans Howland, "it's not even noon yet".

"You both have to clean up first" I say sternly. "Now get a move on, or you'll keep maester Tarly waiting".

"Yes mother" the boys say in chorus as they once more roll their eyes. I watch as my sons detangle themselves from me and Bran's arms and they trudge their way across the clearing.

"And leave the branches where you found them" calls out Bran, shaking his head. My eyes follow the boys as they pass between some trees and out of sight.

"Remember when they were small and quiet" I say jokingly, resting my forehead against Bran's cheek.

"Which one of us was it that couldn't wait for them to walk?" asks Bran, with a smirk.

"That was you" I say accusingly as Bran's arms snake around me and hold me tightly.

"If you say so love" accepts Bran. "C'mon, we best make sure they actually make it to their lesson".

"A parent's work is never done" I mutter wearily as we stand up and slowly stroll across the brightly lit Godwood, hand in hand. Even if I like to complain, I would never trade the aches and pains I get from motherhood. Sometimes I wonder if my mother got weary chasing after me. Maybe it's a cycle, and one day Ned and Howland will have to chase after their own little children.

I glance over at Bran and watch a content smile play across his face. Despite the pressures of being Lord of Winterfell, he still seems to love chasing after or playing with his over-energetic sons. A thought occurs to me, and I realize that I am between my moons-blood today. Perhaps it's time for Bran and me to have another child, I think as a warm smile crosses my face. The North is at peace once more, so perhaps it's time. I grip a hold of Bran's hand tighter as we pass through the archway and head towards the castle.

After losing so much during his youth, Bran seems stronger each and every day. Not just as a man, but as a Lord and as a father. Some part of me feels a joyful pride in knowing I was able to be a part of what made him stronger. When I think about it, being a mother has made me stronger too; if perhaps a touch overprotective. Bran curls his arm over my shoulder and pulls me close as we go off in search of our sons.

Perhaps all this; us, our marriage and our sons was just what me and Bran needed after such dark days. Maybe this was us making up for lost time.

The End.