This chapter has been done for a week now. It only took so long to post as I was waiting for a second opinion. I've defs concluded I really need a Beta for this story.

SO if you're interested pm me :)

There is a Lullaby in this and if you want to hear the full song it's on youtube: Secular Winter Choir Song (solo version) - Pinkzebra "Winter Lullaby" feat. Sofia Canale

Well guys... I'll let you read on as we finally get that Stark sibling reunion we've been waiting for!

REMINDER OF AGES:

Robert & Brandon: 19 years

Ned: 18 years

Lyanna: 12 years

Anya: 11 years

Benjen: 8 years

Dorrick: 16 years

Enjoy :)

(Unbeta'd and unedited)

Chapter 19: A Brother comes home.

To my Dearest brother Ned,

I miss you.

I miss you more than words could possibly describe.

I miss you and grow impatient, each day that passes grows harder than the last.

I hate the distance between us. The coming winter that heralds your arrival feels slow coming. Some mornings I wake, believing I have heard the tolling bell and shouts of the gate guards announcing your return. Some evenings I dream you have secretly made the journey back and are waiting in the shadows to surprise us all.

I fear sometimes that you will never come home, and that if you do, we will meet like strangers.

As the winter that will bring you home draws closer, I find myself dallying by the gates each morning.

So, know this my dearest brother.

When the bell tolls and Winterfell gates are within sight; when the guards cry out your arrival and the gates open. I swear to you it will be my arms to greet you first.

Come home Ned,

Lovingly,

Your sister Anya.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

Ned wiped the sweat from his brow with a nearby rag. He thanked a squire boy for his offer of water and watched Robert spar four men on his own. There was a vicious edge to Robert's skill with his sword, a thirst for blood Ned had only seen in Brandon. A raging lust for battle that was never satisfied.

"Something on your mind?" Jon prompted.

Ned gave a small smile but shook his head.

"He never tires of the fight."

Jon considers the Baratheon heir and gives a hum in agreement. He places a hand on Ned's shoulder and gives him a light pat.

"And so long as he has you, I am certain he will never lose."

Ned feels uncomfortable at hearing such words. He speaks quietly but knows the Lord beside him heard.

"Our fostering is soon to end…... I will not always be with him. It is not my place."

The Vale lord regards the boy beside him before ominously speaking.

"Never disregard the wants of the gods, Ned. You can never know what will come to be in the future. I am sure that you and Robert will never stray far from one another. There will always be a link between you, whether it be brotherhood or something other."

Ned frowns but the Vale Lord takes his leave before he can question him.

Three weeks pass and Ned finds himself loading his horse with supplies. Beside him Robert does the same. The two are silent as they pack and ready for their journey home. The silence between them is only broken when neither males have anything else to pack. They turn to each other, feeling emotional but unwilling to show it.

"Well Ned, this is it," Robert grunts with a smirk.

The two consider each other and after a hesitant second, they embrace. Once they had been young boys, children, but now they are men returning home. For five years the two had only each other to trust and call brother.

"You better write me you bastard," Robert warns as he pulls back, his eyes shiny.

Ned laughs but nods and Robert rolled his eyes with jest.

"Seven hells Ned, don't pull that quiet wolf shit with me now."

Ned laughs again while grinning and knows he will miss his friend.

"I thought you had no patience for words?" he teased.

A strange expression appeared across Robert's face, but it was gone before Ned could think it strange. Robert smiled wide, almost softly, as he responded to Ned's remark.

"It's something about you bloody wolves I suppose."

They bid their goodbyes and part ways, as Ned rides he looks north and feels his heart pound wildly in his chest.

Winter is coming, and with it, so will Ned.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

Anya,

Winter is coming, and so am I.

Love Ned.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

"…. And though winter raged its fury for many years, those of us who suffered her will and lived, were born anew."

Anya sighed as she finished reading the last of one of the old scrolls by her ancestors' hand. The name of the scribe lost to years of dust and wear. Bits of the parchment had been eaten by bugs and chewed on by rats, but she'd managed to fill the spaces with her own understandings. The tale she'd pieced together painted a rather gruesome and dark image in her mind. The tale itself sad, full of desolate implications and savage viciousness now found only in wildlings. It was obviously a different time, one where all that mattered was life, death and survival.

"Anya, do you really think Winter is a she?" Benjen curiously pondered from his place on his furs.

The three Starks had a rare day free of all activities and chores. They opted not to venture outside and instead languished in the great hall close to the fire. Lyanna was checking over her bow, polishing the wood and winding the string. Benjen had gathered a bunch of furs to lay about on the floor by the fire. Anya had settled on a stool against the wall, surrounded by her many scrolls.

It was a rather lazy day for the Stark children, especially as Winter was beginning it's cycle once more outside. The Lord of Winterfell had been rather busy lately. Anya only knew he'd been corresponding with several houses over a delicate political proposal he was managing. She suspects his rather lax supervision over their recent activities was due to trust in their maturity and their more recently acquired watch guard.

"Winter is a being of power, whether they be female or male matters little when they wield such power. I believe the scribe held a rather poetic mind with a fancy towards strong women." Dorrick thoughtfully mused.

Benjen and Lyanna rolled their eyes in comedic unison as soon as he'd voiced his opinion.

"Did he ask you, Boris?" Lyanna drawled.

Dorrick glared back at her and sneered with equal dislike.

Anya ignored the antagonistic atmosphere with ease and continued to ponder Benjen's question.

"I've never really thought about it, Benjen."

As Lyanna and Dorrick began another round of their usual taunting word battles, with their words sharp and piercing like blades, Anya and Benjen thoughtfully stared into the fire. The dancing flames of orange, red and yellow were rather hypnotising; casting a spell over the two children causing their grey marble eyes to appear glazed.

"I think Winter is a she," Benjen decisively declared with a nod of his head.

Anya, Lyanna and Dorrick turned to the younger boy with differing expressions. Lyanna had huffed with pretend annoyance while her eyes betrayed her fond affection. Dorrick looked up to the ceiling in silent prayer, as he could see pass the mask of innocence Benjen wore. Anya smiled at her baby brother adoringly and ruffled his hair lightly with laughter in her eyes.

"Then you should be careful with how you praise your Lady Winter, for many women's hearts will grow green with envy thanks to your silver tongue." Anya teased.

Benjen whined and blushed but the group erupted into giggling laughter, bringing smiles to the lips of the onlooking help.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

In a differing part of Winterfell's castle, Lord Rickard was experiencing a less than jolly mood. The Stark Lord crumbled the ruined parchment in his hand for the fifth time and resolved to start again. He pressed at his forehead with ink stained fingertips and tried to temper the building pain in his temples. Another letter, another dismissal. Rickard's temper had yet to cool and it's blistering rage seeped into his words.

It is exactly as he feared. The mad king's paranoia grew greater each passing day. Soon, Rickard is sure, even Tywin Lannister will be held under a suspicious eye.

"My Lord? I suggest you rest for you will surely fall ill if you continue to stress yourself," Maester Walys stressed.

Maester Walys had grown fond of his placement in Winterfell. As a bastard son, he'd not expected much pleasantry in his life; And after forging his chain, he'd been intimidated by House Stark's reputation as Northern savages. He expected much chaos and wild ways but was pleasantly surprised. Yes, the Northern folk held strange traditions and beliefs. Yes, they were rather uncouth in their manner and wild with their ways.

But… they were loyal and able to endure the harshest of life's trials.

"I am fine," Rickard growled with stubbornness as he scratched with his quill.

Maester Walys gave a heavy sigh to express his disappointment but pushed no further. Although rare, Rickard Stark had a fierce temper, one that rivalled the roaring of winter winds and frozen rains. Walys was no fool and knew better than to risk his life.

Several moments pass in silence as the Lord of Winterfell pens his proposal. Just as he nears the last cursive curve of his scrawl, his solar door bursts open with a slam. Rickard startles with a bad shout as chaos invades his private solar. He spills his inkpot as he stands in fury to roar at the culprit, only to pause at finding his children panting wildly with wary hope.

"Father!" Anya pants with eyes shining and a smile so wide her cheeks expose dimpled dips.

Rickard is momentarily frozen in shock at his youngest daughter's expressive joy. A quick glance towards his other children shows their confliction. He can see it in Benjen and Lyanna's eyes, pure pleasure at seeing their sister so freely expressive; only it is tainted by growing jealousy and envy. He wonders on the cause only to have Anya answer his pondering a second later.

Anya almost jumps her father as she waves a letter beneath his nose impatiently.

"He's coming! He's coming home! Father look! Look!" she chants with elation.

Rickard takes the letter and reads the short scrawl. He feels his chest grow light while his stomach flutters with nervous anticipation. Ned. His second born son. Has it really been so long? He looks down at Anya who stares up at him. He is alarmed to note her head has reached his chest. A glance behind her prompts him to rapidly blink with astonishment. Lyanna is just as tall, possibly a few inches taller, and her face is slim. Benjen too has lost his childhood fat, now looking rather boyish than babyish.

When did his treasured gifts grow so rapidly?

Not so long ago he held Benjen like a babe in his arms, could snatch Lyanna up with three steps and would bend down to help Anya reach higher shelves for her books.

Gods…. His children have grown.

Rickard clears his throat, feeling it tighten with too much emotion.

"How long ago did the letter arrive?" he asks in attempt to distract his mind.

"It came just now. Nya ran from the tower all the way here." Benjen huffs, with mild bitterness in his tone.

"She caused quite the mess too father. Poor Dorrick got left behind because she tripped the maids carrying linens and furs." Lyanna snorted with a slightly jealous glint.

Rickard felt equal parts amused and concerned over the blooming rivalry taking seed in his younger children. He'd known Brandon to have inherited his possessive nature but not expected Lyanna and Benjen to share the trait as well. He could only hope their insecurities towards Ned's return would settle quickly.

Anya blushed a dark red and mumbled her apology, her head bowed and feet shuffling.

"I-I'm sorry. I'll ensure to apologize, father, but it's…." Anya's voice caught in her throat and she looked up with a beaming grin.

"It's Ned father, he's coming back."

There was a shine to Anya's eyes that he'd not seen since Ned had left. A shine not even Brandon, Lyanna or Benjen could tempt into appearance. Rickard wondered how this came to be. Why did Ned hold such a deep bond with Anya when distance had kept them so far apart?

'Hearts love to yearn, my love. Absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder…You know this.' Lyarra's ghost whispers in his ear.

Rickard's heart pulses wildly in his chest with fierce love and ache. He swallows pass the hollow thump his heart gives at the memory of what he lost and smiles gently at his sweet daughter. He cards his fingers through her messed hair and cups her chin.

"Then I trust you and your siblings will welcome him back accordingly."

Anya cuddles him by the waist before turning on her heel to face Lyanna and Benjen. The two children hurriedly hid their bitter and jealous expressions for weak smiles of eagerness. Anya straightened like a commander taking lead of his soldiers and began giving orders.

"…His room needs to be cleaned and aired. Oh, he's probably too tall for most of his cloaks, I should see his wardrobe…"

"Nya! Wait up!" Benjen whined as Anya hurried out, followed by a groaning Lyanna.

Rickard's solar fell silent once again, but he was frozen in place.

Maester Walys cleared his throat to remind the Lord of his presence. Perhaps, it was insensitive of him to poise the question, but it was his duty to his Lord. Slowly, he offered the Lord of Winterfell two parchments received several moons ago. The Stark Lord looked to him with a blank stare filled with frigid regard.

"What is it?" Rickard prompted with a scowl.

"Forgive me my lord, for the timing is perhaps insensitive but…."

Rickard looks down at the parchments in the Maester hand and his eyes darken.

"You tasked me with pushing the matter, my lord." Maester Walys uncomfortably reminds him.

Rickard glares but takes the parchment in hand with gritted teeth.

He stares at the sigil stamped on the two parchments and hates the confliction he feels.

But he is a Lord first and Father second and here is a moment in which he cannot compromise for either title.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

Ned reluctantly slowed to make camp for the night. Despite the desperate aching need in his heart that urged him to keep riding, his mind knew it to be a foolish act. Already, his poor horse had shown signs of exhaustion.

"Soon Ned, you will make it home soon," he chanted to himself in a whispered breath.

Ned could hardly keep still; he was restless with nerves and longing.

It has simply been too long since he'd been home in the North. What had he missed? Anya's letters had kept him well in the loop of everything but… reading letters is not the same as experiencing the event. Would anyone recognise him upon arrival? Would they know him still as the second born son of Rickard Stark? Or has he faded from the memory of the small folk, guards and help of Winterfell?

What of his siblings?

Ned could barely eat thanks to the wild thoughts in his mind.

Sleep did not come easy and it made him paranoid. By Day 12 of his travelling, he'd hoped to come across bandits or something to ease some of his tension. On Day 15 he'd received his wish and cut down five rapists, saved two maiden sisters and earned a lovely hot meal for his efforts. The encounter eased some tension but not all.

He was nearing Moat Cailin when his journey took an unexpected twist.

Ned found himself ambushed and cornered by a party of at least 15 men. All of them armed and poised to attack. As he was travelling alone, Ned dreaded the fight that will soon break between them.

And it would be a fight, as Ned would rather die fighting then be taken hostage or worse.

He was a Stark of Winterfell, a Wolf of the North and they will not take him.

"Surrender to us or die!" One commanded.

Ned was tense, his hand clenched on the reigns of his horse. He eyed the men and noted how none were armed with bows. A quick scan showed there was no place for any hidden marksmen among their surroundings. It bolstered a bit of his confidence and he straightened to meet the eyes of the one who spoke.

"I have nothing you want. Please. Let us part in peace," he implored.

The men laughed and Ned resigned himself to a fight. He did his best to ignore the part of him that howled with excitement.

This was exactly what he needed…. A nice outlet to release the last of his tension before his return home.

When the laughing stopped, Ned simply waited. His arms were loose by his side and his face a blank mask of cool consideration. He met each man's glare with a frigid stare of his own showing no fear or anxiety.

"Kill him."

Only after the order was spoken did Ned allow himself to grin.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

He had not expected this.

The clang of clashing swords had garnered his attention, and his curiosity saw him rushing towards the sound. He had jumped from his horse and hurried close, sheathing his sword with preparation. An eager grin growing on his lips only to freeze in place with shock.

Red.

Groans of agony and pleas of mercy.

So much red.

The sight of it all left him breathless.

But none more than the dancing figure in the centre of all the chaos. The swordsman was young, his movements elegant yet savage. He swung his sword wildly and recklessly, yet they sliced into their opponents with calculative strikes. Deadly accurate.

It was impossible.

One man against 15 and yet... it was the lone swordsman winning.

And when this swordsman turned with blood on his face and his teeth flashing bright with glee, his heart clenched with recognition.

It was no random swordsman…. But a lone wolf who'd been far from home for so long.

Brandon recognised those eyes, though wild with bloodthirst, those patient eyes were still familiar. He watched with mixed awe, pride and wary anticipation as Ned coldly severed a man's limb with an easy swing.

Ned fought effortlessly with a ruthless nature Brandon had never considered him capable off.

Just what had become of his quiet natured little brother in the south?

For the first time in his life Brandon found himself unsure of a member of his pack.

Wary.

"What have you become without me brother?" He whispered in the shadows as Ned killed the last of his enemies.

As if hearing his whispered words, Ned looked to the shadows of Brandon's hiding place, looking for his next prey. Brandon stilled under the heavy weight of Ned's glare. His skin prickled as if it were being trailed over with pointed steel. In response to the sensation, Brandon found his heart pounding and his blood rushing with excitement.

Soon, but not yet.

Brandon retreated further into the shadows as quietly as he could. His mind heavy with plans and wild anticipation. As he rode further away from his returning brother, Brandon soon laughed. He laughed till his belly ached and tears formed in his eyes.

Now, more than ever, Brandon was looking forward to returning home.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

Lyanna ducked into one of the empty corridors and held her breath with trepidation. The clapping of boots on the castle floors echoed but nothing drowned out the cry of her name.

"Lyanna! Gods, where has she disappeared to now!" Anya muttered with an irate huff.

As her sister's footsteps faded, Lyanna finally allowed herself to breathe. She simply couldn't take it anymore. Ever since Ned's stupid letter had come, Anya had grown mad with instruction. Every morning, no matter how many times Lyanna insisted she had overseen the needed chores, Anya would double check it twice over. The entirety of Winterfell was dusted, polished and cleaned. The sheets and linens were washed and aired. All the Stark children's laundry done thrice within the week; it did not matter if they were already cleaned.

One may have assumed Winterfell was preparing to host the arrival of a King rather than just Ned.

Something hot and heavy twisted in Lyanna's belly as she continued her reflection over recent events. Anya had seen to it the cooks were prepped to cook all of Ned's favoured Northern meals. She had even had the blacksmith oversee their brother's old armoury and commissioned them to create a bigger version with Ned's estimated sizes.

Regardless of what Dorrick mocked, Lyanna was not jealous of Ned.

It was ridiculous and much too immature to feel jealous of her older brother.

Now, Benjen of course was obviously jealous. Their little brother had been skipping his lessons more frequently to trail after Anya and offer his aid in any way possible. It was almost sad how desperately eager poor Benjen sought Anya's praise. Unlike Lyanna, who remembered just how close bonded Ned and Anya had been, Benjen was too young to remember.

Lyanna's mind recalled Benjen's whispered confession in her room.

"Is it bad… that I don't really want Ned to come home?" Benjen whispered with guilt in his eyes.

Lyanna could only cuddle her brother close in comfort.

"I suppose that makes the both of us bad people," she mumbled.

She clenched her fist with both self-annoyance and guilt. While she may not be jealous like Dorrick claimed, Lyanna would admit to feeling rather…. Disgruntled. After all, it wasn't just Ned coming home. Brandon's fostering was also coming to an end and he too would be returning permanently to Winterfell.

She truly must be a horrible person to not feel excited for her older brothers' return.

"Ah! Lady Lyanna, the little lady has been in quite the huff searching for you."

Lyanna barely managed a curt nod in response, and her strained smile most likely made her look insane. But the maid pushed no further and hurried to tend to her duties. She found herself stomping through the corridors down a path she'd constantly walked in her younger years. Soon enough, the clashing and loud clanking of armour and swords reached her ears and she found her heart ease.

She grabbed her bow and lost herself to the ache of her arms as she released arrow after arrow onto her target.

*Thunk*

She was not jealous.

*Thunk*

She wasn't.

*Thunk*

But a whisper in her mind spoke the truth.

*Thunk*

With Brandon and Ned returning to Winterfell, the true elders of their pack, will either of her younger siblings still trust and believe her capable of protecting them? Would they want her too?

*Thunk*

Lyanna's fingers trembled as she notched another arrow and took aim.

*Thunk*

Lyanna gritted her teeth as she stared at the many arrows pinned deeply into the centre of her target.

She will simply have to prove herself capable.

She notched another arrow and released it with a whistling whoosh, splitting her last arrow down the middle, sinking it into the red circle of the target.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

Ned felt immensely better, and he inhaled deeply feeling rather settled. The earlier anxious nerves he felt no longer stirring silly thoughts in his head. He let out a weary sigh as he took in the bloody mess around him and felt only a smidgen of shame for being so cruel towards his opponents.

Not all of them were dead, but soon enough that would change.

"N-no please, have mercy!" One pleaded as he approached.

With how wildly he'd slaughtered their leader, Ned couldn't blame the man for his fear. It was not the first life he'd taken, but…. He had never been so intentionally vicious. Even if any of these men survived, they would live a life full of struggle as Ned had crippled most of them and blinded some.

"You have my word, I will not harm you any further than I already have," Ned promised with a hint of apology.

Another of his slow bleeding victims choked out a strangled laugh, that oddly held a tinge of respect.

"Y-you- Might you g-give a d-dying fool the pleasure of k-knowing your name before the stranger claims his pitiful soul?"

Ned found himself cringing a bit at hearing the slight gurgle in the man's words. He was obviously older than Ned, possibly the same age as his father.

"Eddard Stark," he answered.

The man let out a hissing cackle and the light in his eyes faded. He died with a lopsided grin on his lips. Ned felt…. Torn about the destruction he'd caused but knew it was best not to linger. In his mind he could already hear Jon Arryn's scolding lecture. A stray thought had him wondering how his Father would think of him if he'd bared witness to his work.

Ned opted not to think too deeply on it.

He turned to his horse and considered the horses of his fallen foes. There was simply too much weaponry and stolen goods to leave abandoned.

He let out a weary sigh and got to work in cleaning the mess he'd made in his emotional state.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

William Dustin clenched his jaw tightly with barely restrained rage. Fucking Wild Wolf and his-

"Lord Dustin, a rider approaches!" one of his men announced.

He gripped his reigns tighter and guided his horse to the front of his company. True to their word, a rider approached. He wore no armour or discernible mark proving him to be an ally. Normally, William would not be suspicious or outright hostile towards any passing rider through the Barrowlands. But with the recent increase of thievery and raping, his father had ordered them to take care of it. They had a duty to the smaller villages who were suffering such pillaging. His Lord Father hoped the group would soon move on or be dealt with. It was no secret that House Stark would suffer the consequences as King Aerys, unofficially, left the North to Rickard Stark's care.

They managed to conclude it was an organization, a group of southern filth taking their chances closer to the north, rather than risk facing punishment by the Targaryen King.

How greatly must the King's Madness grown to have criminals think the North to be kinder executioners?

"Halt! You rider, state your name and reason for passage or face the ends of myself and my company's sword."

The rider appeared to listen, though what little they could see of his face remained unfamiliar. Many of his company had their hands on the hilts of their swords in wary preparation. The man seemed much too suspicious.

But then he spoke.

"I mean no ill will. Only wish for safe passage through to Winterfell. I am journeying home after fostering," the polite tone and respectful address surprised them all until his words registered.

There was only one Northern native from Winterfell sent to foster in the south.

"Eddard? Eddard Stark? Good Gods is it truly you?" William blurted with honest disbelief.

William only had a vague memory of the second born Stark son. A quiet boy with a much too solemn face, nothing like his wild wolf brother. To his shame William had never paid much attention to the younger boy. He had appeared rather boring and soft.

Eddard Stark looked nothing like the young boy in his memories. He held himself in a way that commanded respect, much like his older Brother and Father. However, the difference is the manner he exuded such presence. He did not enforce his command like Brandon, with a roguish grin and high held head. He did not intimidate those around him with a blank mask and icy stare like his Lord Father.

Eddard Stark's presence was still quiet and rather gentle… but it was comforting, and William found himself trusting the Stark mere seconds after meeting him. It was strange…. But equally relieving.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

Ned considered the company before him and gave a slight smile in confirmation of his name. He soon realized the leader of the group was the heir to House Dustin. As William happily welcomed and engaged in conversation with Ned, the quiet wolf's mind was sharply observing those around him.

He could see it in the eyes of some of the men, they were wary and distant towards him. They did not trust him, and he wondered if it was because he'd fostered in the South or simply because of how he'd come across them. Or perhaps Brandon had something to do with it?

Thinking of his brother, he hesitantly asked after him, only to grow wary by the sharp gleam of dislike that flashed briefly in the Dustin Heir's eyes. Clearly, William Dustin did not like his Wild brother, and Ned inwardly prayed it was nothing too worrisome.

"There is a group of southern bandits raiding the smaller villages here in the Barrowlands. My father instructed myself and a few of our men to see it solved. Your brother believed he figured their most recent route and snuck away with only his squire to confront the group."

"Bandits? A group you say?" Ned repeated with an awkward grimace on his face.

William interpreted the reaction to be worry and hastily attempted to assure Ned.

"I'm sure your brother is fine. We've determined the group to only have 10 or 15 members. We should catch up to him soon enough. He has learned plenty throughout his fostering with us, I assure you."

Ned only gave a weak smile, as his mind spiralled with wonder.

It couldn't be that the same group he'd encountered were the culprits they spoke of. Too coincidental. And if William Dustin is to be believed, then Ned should have run into Brandon earlier on his way. Did Brandon get lost? Or… he had felt a presence at the end of his slaughter… could it have been… But Brandon would have stepped in? His Wild Wolf brother could never ignore the clashing of swords.

Too caught up in his spiralling thoughts, he absently agreed to the escort and accepted the offer of resting with House Dustin before continuing his journey. It was only as they approached the gates, that he realized he would undoubtedly be meeting his brother after so many years.

All his earlier nerves returned with a rushing surge and Ned did his best to calm himself.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

Benjen couldn't sleep.

No matter how much he tossed and turned, he just wasn't tired. He kicked his furs off with a huff and sat up with a scowling pout on his lips. Perhaps he needed to tire himself out? Maybe a stroll around the castle would help?

With that in mind he dressed and left his chambers.

Winterfell castle tended to feel rather spooky in the late night. With only the lit torches to guide and the utter silence, Benjen wondered if he'd made a mistake. He never liked roaming the castle at night. It was much too quiet and dark, and above all else incredibly cold. It reminded him too much of the crypts, only without the dead ancestors in their tombs.

Still, Benjen braved the castle corridors and continued his stroll.

He distracted himself with other thoughts. Thoughts such as, what will the morning meal be? Hopefully bacon strips and fresh bread. He needed to polish his armour or risk being scolded by Father again. Maybe he could trick Anya into playing pretend again instead of cleaning for Ned?

The thought of his brother had Benjen pouting again.

Ned had been the talk of the castle for weeks now. With how excited and commanding Anya has been lately, all of Winterfell was rather anxious about his return. As an afterthought, some whispered on how it'll be the first time in years all the Stark children would be home.

"We never did anything like this for Brandon…." Benjen grumbled as he headed closer to where the courtyard was.

Why was Ned so special?

Just then he heard harsh whispering and what sounded like bickering. Benjen moved closer but ensured he was hidden in the shadows and unseen. He was surprised to find the cause to be Dorrick and Anya. The two seemed to be arguing, and Benjen couldn't help but step closer to overhear what they said.

"…. Fifth day I've found you out here! You can't keep sneaking from your rooms to wait in the cold! You will get sick or worse! And with all the strain you've been-"

"Dorrick please! You've said this all yesterday. I promise you I have taken care to ensure I remain of good health and rest plenty. Also, I am far from alone out here with the guards-"

"That is not the point! I swore an oath to protect you from harm and shield you till my ending years."

Benjen couldn't see their expressions, but he knew the two were most likely squaring off against each other. Usually, Benjen wouldn't have hesitated to charge forward and step between the two. It's not that he hated Dorrick, not like Lyanna did at least. He only hated how much Anya seemed to trust him. It was hard to spend time alone with Anya without Dorrick being a few steps away.

This time, he stayed hidden and strained his ears to hear as much as he could.

"I'm still within the walls of Winterfell, Dorrick. What harm could possibly come across me here?" Anya huffed with a drawl.

"Sickness and foolish boys who believe themselves manly," Dorrick bluntly stated in return.

There was a beat of silence before Dorrick spoke again.

"Don't look at me like that, I've warned you before of-"

"Yes, yes but this is Winterfell Dorrick. Why would any boy here wish to write me letters, when they could simply come speak to me themselves?" Anya interrupted with a hint of irritation in her tone.

Dorrick let out a painfilled whine that had Benjen scowling. Gods, Dorrick was so simple sometimes, as if Anya would accept letters from anyone that wasn't Brandon or Ned. This was just another reason Dorrick was unsuitable as a guard for his sister. He was much too blind to the obvious things.

"We will discuss that later, regardless you cannot spend your nights waiting by the gates. You must rest." Dorrick sternly instructed.

It was quiet but Benjen peered over and saw how Anya straightened and coolly regarded the older boy.

"Are you instructing me?" Anya frigidly questioned.

To Dorrick's credit, he did not falter, but Benjen was insulted by the older boy's blatant disrespect towards his sister. When Dorrick spoke, it was with gentle words, a bent head and an apologetic tenor.

"I am worried for you. And eventually, should word reach your siblings or Father, they too would ask you the same. Do you really think Ned would wish for you to grow sickly while waiting for him?"

Benjen watched enviously from the shadows as Dorrick comforted Anya. He watched with narrow eyes and gritted teeth as Anya gave a slow nod in reluctant agreement.

"…I promised to be the first to welcome him," Anya mumbled with defeat.

Benjen stopped listening after that as Dorrick promised to alert her the second he spies a rider. Instead, he marched his way back to his room with a fierce scowl on his lips and jealousy churning in his belly.

Why?

What made Ned so special?

Would Anya forget him when Ned comes home?

Benjen did not sleep at all that night. He had too many thoughts in his head. When morning came, he ate his morning meal in silence then hurriedly excused himself. He heard his father tempering Anya preventing her from chasing after him.

This time around, it was not Anya he would be trailing after.

He finds Lyanna in the courtyard shooting her arrows upon her horse. He waits for her to finish her round and when she looks to him with confusion, he speaks his demands.

"Train with me."

Lyanna must spy something in his eyes as the grin she gives him is both amused but wicked with glee.

As they train, Benjen's mind taunts him with his fear but he is not afraid.

When his brothers return, Benjen will show them both he's just as strong and special as them.

He will prove himself to be the best brother ever.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

Lord Dustin is beyond joyous when greeting Ned. Enough to make the quiet wolf feel rather awkward about his presence. He is already rather nervous about reuniting with Brandon, but the praise he's lavished with feels undeserved.

"Come come Eddard, you must meet my good daughter." Lord Dustin insists.

Ned deeply wishes to decline but knows better than to risk insulting the Lord. He turns to William Dustin and gives a friendly grin.

"You have my congratulations and apologies for not attending. I hope your marriage will be long and blessed by the gods."

Since making his acquaintance, Ned has felt as if the Dustin heir is assessing him. It makes Ned twitchy to be constantly held under watch. He does not enjoy the heavy stares of his fellow Northerners on his skin. It feels too much like a test, as if he is an outsider.

It ignites a beastly rage in his heart that he desperately tries to temper.

William grins at him, a bright smile that seems to shine a little too brightly.

"All is forgiven. If I am to be honest, your father and brother's presence was all the wolf we could handle."

William laughs as if his jape is laughter worthy, ignorant to how it prompts Ned's mind to howl wildly with questions. Still, Ned gives a light chuckle and shares a grin in return.

"Ah, then you have my sympathies too. Any event that hosts my brother and continues to be so courteous in manner is one worth attending."

Finally, Ned spy's sincerity in the Dustin heirs' eyes, and something akin to approval. Just as Ned had dreaded, his suspicions about the Dustin heir's discontent towards his brother is proven true. William reaches across with a friendly clap to Ned's shoulder and speaks at a volume just a little louder than before.

"You've grown up to be a rather fine man, Stark. Come, I shall introduce you to my wife myself."

Ned gives a smile only slightly wider than his earlier grin.

"Please, call me Ned."

William takes lead and Ned follows. As they pass the rest of the men under House Dustin's banner, Ned feels the stares on his skin lighten and eventually… He is greeted with nods of respect and friendly banter.

The beastly rage in his heart no longer howls for release, but it prowls within its caged bars on guard.

For the moment, Ned has managed to temper his rage with this small victory.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

Barbary Ryswell- no not Ryswell, it's Dustin now- Barbary Dustin grins at the pretty jewels strung around her throat. A gift from her husband. Husband. So strange a word to use but still it brought to her lips such a wide smile. Under no circumstances did Barbary love the man. For all his gentleman ways, affectionate eyes and tender care, Barbary could not love him.

For she had already given her heart to another.

She twisted sideways and critically eyed her appearance in her looking glass. She looked beautiful, in her humble opinion, enticing yet still respectably dressed. Lyea Manderly was certainly skilled to create such detailed embroidery. Her husbands distance and lack of interest earned her the gifted dress. Why wouldn't her dear friend want to help her better her marriage. It was a lie, but only a white one. For Barbary's extravagant dress was not for William Dustin, but the infamous Wild Wolf.

In her minds eye she can still feel his touch from their single night of passion.

She craved for a repeat but since her marriage, Brandon Stark had not spared her a single glance.

"You are absolutely irresistible…" She purred to her reflection.

"Yes, you are," a deep voice lustfully crooned from her chamber doors.

Barbary jolted with shock and twisted. She felt her heart simultaneously rise and drop at who she saw. William stared at her with eyes of worship. He sauntered to her slowly with a charming grin on his lips. Nothing like the roguish grin Brandon has mastered. He reaches for her and guides her to him, directions she willingly follows.

He is her husband and she is his wife.

She has a duty to perform.

They share a kiss and briefly guilt festers in her heart for she imagines someone else in his place. As she always does.

"I thought you were searching for that rogue group of bandits. Why have you returned so early?" She questioned, biting her tongue to avoid asking after Brandon and his whereabouts.

William's scowl twists darkly as he answers.

"The fucking wolf took off on his own again. The damn fucker always does as he pleases, and father never scolds him!"

"He is Lord Stark's son; he is rather important. Your father is incredibly aware of this," she tempers with a slight scolding in her words.

William scoffs but holds her tighter and mumbles his reply.

"Regardless, thank the gods we can bid him goodbye by tomorrow's morn."

Barbary stiffens in his hold and pulls away abruptly.

"What did you say?" she presses sharply.

William regards her coolly, but the affectionate smile on his lips remains. If she bothered to look deeper into his eyes, she would have noticed the gleam of resigned heartbreak he hid. He ignores her sharp tone and repeats himself. Barbary feels faint and can barely hold herself together. William takes pity on her and makes a show of leaving her to finish readying before she should join them for the feast.

He mentions his intentions to introduce her to Eddard Stark, but Barbary wants him gone quickly and all but pushes him out of her chamber.

When she is alone, Barbary finds her heart aching and her eyes burning. When she looks at her reflection, she no longer sees a beautiful lady… but a heartbroken girl.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

Ned is surrounded by so many boisterous men; it helps distract him from his nerves in meeting Brandon. William had gone to find his wife but was taking a long while to return. As such, Ned found himself accosted by several men and interrogated on all he experienced in the North.

"Lies, I say! No way is a Southerner able to lift so much on his own," one of the men crow.

Ned laughs but repeats himself.

"Its true. I witnessed Robert do it myself," he shrugs.

The men around him dissolve into muttered grumblings on whether to believe him or not. Ned was just about to change the subject, when the hall doors opened with a loud slam. All eyes turn to the entrance and Ned finds his breath catch with shock.

The culprit stands tall, his dark hair wind blown and slightly slicked back. The entirety of his jaw is covered in a rather impressive beard. But Ned recognized those eyes filled with playful mischief that could shift to wild bloodthirst at the slightest prod. Then those familiar eyes met his and Ned felt weak with sheer thrill.

"Stark! So good of you to finally grace us with your presence." William Dustin drawls.

But Brandon strides through the crowd paying the Dustin heir no mind. Ned marvels at how his brother's walk inspires all around him to grow quiet. He suddenly wants to laugh as it's just so typical Brandon to dominates every room he walks into. Ned straightens his stance and for the first time in years, the elder Stark siblings stand across from one another.

They forget about their audience and simply drink in the image of one another.

Brandon is taller than Ned by a few inches, and his shoulders are broader. Ned is lean and his hair is longer, pulled back into a wolfs tail. Ned's hair had lightened while in the South and adds a contrast between the brothers.

Slowly, Brandon's grin widens into a toothy leer.

"Well, well if it isn't dearest Ned."

Ned wants to laugh and possibly cry at hearing his brother speak. Brandon's voice is deep and gods it's truly been too long. But this is not the place for the brotherly reunion Ned craves. He carefully smooths out his expression, looking as cool and calm as possible. The contrast they make is undoubtedly fascinating. Brothers, one wild, daring and roguish the other calm, cool and reassuring.

"Bran," Ned curtly says in return.

All in the room watch with anticipation, curious to see what would happen next. Brandon quirks a brow and Ned imitates the action, and the act prompts both brothers to break. Brandon throws his head back and laughs giddily before lunging for Ned and pulling him into a tight embrace. Ned is chuckling, not as loud as Brandon but just as happy. The room bursts into cheers and applause at witnessing such a moment.

Ned finally frees himself, but both keep their arms around each other's shoulder.

They marvel at each other; full of disbelief and pure euphoric elation at being able to hold each other again.

"LET US FEAST!" Brandon roars with a cheer and the room responds, while William Dustin glowers in the shadows.

A woman, one Ned suspects to be William Dustin's wife, approaches with a smile and calls Brandon's name. However, Brandon ignores her and everyone around them, opting to steer Ned towards a quiet corner to talk. Ned can only spare Lady Dustin an apologetic smile before he's tugged away. Their table is left alone and given privacy while everyone celebrates around them.

Brandon stares at his little brother with a look Ned can't place.

"Look at you…. All grown and much closer to becoming a man," Brandon admires with a laugh.

Ned rolls his eyes fondly and wryly grins in return.

"Well, one of us had to," he jests mockingly.

Brandon snorts mid drink and laughs outrageously.

"And filled with so much sass. Gods Ned, you've no idea how greatly I've missed you."

Brandon's eyes turned soft and the older brother Ned remembers; the brother who made him swear before the gods they'd one day conquer Westeros in the name of Stark, stared back at him. Ned swallows as he feels much too overwhelmed with feeling. The ache of his heart, after so many years, is finally easing.

"I'm afraid that is one matter you will never best me on, brother."

Brandon laughs and if it sounds a bit choked, and Ned's eyes seem rather glassy, no one could tell. House Dustin celebrates until the sun rises again the next morning. But the two brothers lose their sense of time, too caught up in talking and familiarizing themselves with the men they've become.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

Anya sits by her bed chamber window and stares up at the star filled sky. Winter has truly come, and its icy chill numbs her fingers. Still, she sits by her window curled in her furs and watches the sky. She can't sleep, too filled with worry and restless impatience. It's been 3 and half weeks since Ned's letter. Anya had run out of things to busy herself with, Winterfell was completely ready for her brother's return.

Lyanna and Benjen have been rather secretive as of late. She's tried to join them on whatever they've been up to, but they insisted she'd find it boring. It left her rather…. Disappointed. She asked Father if he knew what they were up to, but he suggested she leave them be.

"There are things your siblings need to achieve themselves that you can't provide," he gently explained.

Anya felt her bottom lip jut out as she fiddled with her sleeves.

"But can't I at least help them?" Don't they need me anymore?

Rickard had chuckled, something that surprised Anya, before he pulled her to settle on his knee. She curled into him, shamelessly taking advantage of his unexpected affection. Rickard stroked her hair before shifting through his parchments.

"They will always need you, just as you will always need them. You will never be alone my child."

Anya smiled up at him and curled her fingers in his cloak a little tighter.

"Nor will we leave you Father, not ever."

They spent the rest of the day in his solar, her on his knee, as they sorted through his proposals and Lordly demands.

With Lyanna and Benjen being all secretive, Anya spent her days with Father instead. She'd taken to assisting him as she'd done for punishment. She took notes and stuck by his side while he tended to his lordly duties. Oddly enough, this time around, Anya found it more fun. She chatted with the help and got to know her Father's guards better. She worked with Father on Winterfell's finances and helped devise next winters budget. She helped solve a few problems the small folk would bring to her father's attention.

It was hard and demanding work, but Anya loved retiring to her chamber exhausted but satisfied.

Being able to spend more time with Father was simply a bonus.

She sighed and snuggled further into her furs. She wondered how far Ned was now. Had he reached Moat Cailin? Was he in the Barrowlands already? Was he close to Wintertown yet? Was he warm and well fed? How much taller was he? Would he recognize her? Would he still see her as a child or a soon to be woman grown? Would he have a beard? Would she recognize him?

Anya sighed again and pressed her head back into the cold stones of her wall.

"It doesn't matter…. So long as he comes home safe," she mumbles.

Anya looks to the sky and decides to pray with all her heart and might.

"Gods be good and bless my brother's journey. See my brother safely returned to me. I beg of you please."

A soft knock on her door had her opening her eyes with surprise. She twisted and saw two heads peering into her room curiously.

"Anya? You awake?" Benjen whispered.

"Shh! What if she's already asleep, Ben? Don't wake her up," Lyanna scolded in a whisper.

Anya couldn't help but roll her eyes as her siblings began to bicker. Despite it all, her heart pulsed with fond amusement.

"I'm awake Lya, leave him be," she sighed.

Benjen stuck his tongue out and raced over to cuddle with her. He ignored the indignant huff and glare Lyanna directed his way as she came to join them. Lyanna was curled in her own furs, but with the three of them crowding the same space, they were quite warm.

"Why aren't you sleeping, Nya?" Lyanna lightly scolded.

Anya narrowed her eyes in return and adjusted her arm to wrap around Benjen better.

"I'm not the one wandering the castle."

Benjen snickered as Lyanna playfully nudged him. The three of them stared up at the sky together in comfortable bliss.

"We couldn't sleep either," Benjen mumbled.

Anya nodded with understanding and continued to play with his hair.

"Do you think Ned will come home with Bran?" Lyanna wondered.

Anya couldn't help but dreamily smile with hope at the thought. To welcome both her brothers' home would be a real blessing. But she would not be greedy.

"It would be nice…" she hummed.

Benjen shifted to sit between his sisters and hug his knees.

"Our pack will be complete again…" Benjen whispered.

Lyanna couldn't help but grin as she nudged him with her elbow.

"You're not going to ditch your sisters for your brothers when they come, will you?"

Benjen made a disgusted face and shoved Lyanna away.

"No way! Bran's fun but too much sometimes and I don't really remember Ned. I don't even know if he'll like me! He probably still thinks of me as a baby…" Benjen grumbles.

"Ned's going to love you Benjen, why wouldn't he? You're completely adorable!" Anya disagreed she then smirked and slyly looked to Lyanna with tease.

"If anything, he won't even know who Lyanna is. I'm sure he's expecting some rough she-wolf instead of a lady."

Benjen giggled while Lyanna glared and loudly denied such a title.

As their teasing and giggles faded, Benjen let out a yawn which prompted Lyanna to do the same.

"Am I to assume we'll be sleeping in my room tonight?" Anya whispered with a tiny smile.

Lyanna and Benjen gave her innocent smiles that prompted her to laugh. Though they'd not gone anywhere, their secretive activities had left her missing them almost as much as Ned. They all moved to her bed and snuggled together comfortably.

It had been a long while since the three of them had shared a bed. Thankfully, Anya's bed was big enough to leave them plenty of room. Anya found herself warmly caged between her two siblings, Lyanna on her left and Benjen nuzzling her right.

They lay in the darkness for a few seconds until Benjen sleepily whispered.

"Nya…. Can you sing mama's lullaby…? Please?"

Anya felt Lyanna grow stiff but called no attention to it. She only grabbed at her sister's hand and kissed Benjen's brow before singing in a soft whisper that sounded loud in the night.

"When the winter snow meets the world below…"

Anya sang softly, losing herself to the memory of her mother's warmth and soft voice. She used to sing the lullaby for Benjen when he was still a babe. It had been the only way to get him to calm and sleep on his worse nights. As far as she knew no one was aware of her trick. Many simply thought Benjen favoured her. She hadn't sung the lullaby for a long while, but the words and soft croon returned to her memory with ease.

The further she got into the song, the deeper Benjen drifted into sleep and the tighter Lyanna clung to her. Soon enough, Anya felt wet splashes on her back and could feel Lyanna's quiet gasps harmonize with Benjen's light snores. Anya's throat grew tight and her voice grew strained as she pushed to finish the song. She twisted to stare into her sister's eyes, feeling how her own grew hot with emotion.

"…. By your side I'll stay till you drift away…. To my soft and sweet…now complete…. Winter lullaby"

Lyanna smiled wetly and pressed their foreheads together. She wiped at Anya's cheeks that had grown wet as well and tapped her nose like she used to when they were younger.

"The lone wolf dies but the pack survives…." Lyanna uttered as if in prayer.

Anya gave a breathy laugh before burrowing her head into her big sister's embrace. Together the three cuddled together in sleep, anxiously awaiting the day their pack would once again be complete.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

Outside Anya's bed chamber door, Rickard had collapsed against the wall in a messy heap. He clutched to his chest and quietly tried to regain his self-control. The small gap in the door had allowed him to hear the song with ease. The ache in his chest incredibly painful; he felt numb as tears streamed from his eyes.

Eventually, after several heaves and muffled whines, the Lord of Winterfell picked himself off the ground. He walked towards his deeply slumbering pups and kissed each child's brow with reverence. He ensured all three were properly covered and pulled a chair to guard over them through the night.

He was running out of time…. But for now, he would savour this moment.

Soon his pups will need to leave the comfort of their den and face the world.

Rickard could only hope he'd prepared them enough for whatever they may face.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

Ned stared up at the star filled sky, his breath visible in the cold air. A few ways across from him Brandon did the same. The two brothers had left the Barrowlands the morning after their celebratory feast. Ned had been surprised by how abrupt and rather quick their departure had been. Brandon had been rather curt when addressing House Dustin. It explained the dislike William Dustin harboured towards his brother. There was a grand parade of farewells from the people, especially Lord Dustin. Brandon, despite his rather domineering attitude, was incredibly popular with the small folk. Most especially the women.

In fact, even the recently wedded Lady Dustin seemed heartbroken over his brothers leave.

"So… I hear you made a friend in the south," Brandon drawled with a rather tight grin.

Ned looked to his brother, finding his expression odd. They continued to ride despite the rather dark road and the risks it harboured. But both brothers wished to reach home as soon as possible. Despite Ned reminding Brandon of the risks of bandits and thieves, his brother wore a strange expression and simply laughed. Ned still isn't quite sure why Brandon found it so funny.

"Robert was incredibly helpful. He is a good man, if perhaps, a bit overeager," Ned replied with a shrug.

Brandon hummed in acknowledgement, but the shadows made it hard for Ned to really study his expressions. As they rode, Brandon seemed to be quizzing Ned about Robert. Asking questions rapidly and pressing for more details. While Ned may be incredibly patient, he did not like the odd tone Brandon tended to take each time he answered one of his questions. It was enough to remind Ned of all the ways Brandon could be such exasperating company.

"And this Robert took you to the brothels?" Brandon pressed again.

The sky had lightened a good deal enough for him to see the quirked brow and mocking sneer his brother gave. Ned tightened his grip on his reigns and glowered at his brother.

"This is the tenth time you've asked that!" Ned huffed with a groan.

"Because you're my baby brother Ned!" Brandon started causing Ned to groan louder again.

"I'm only a year younger," he argued.

"Meaning I'm a year wiser. You should listen to your big brother dearest Ned," Bran retorted looking serious if not for the playful gleam in his eyes.

Ned looked to the sky, for what felt like the hundredth time since they'd started riding together and prayed for the aid of the Gods. Brandon started to launch into a speech of how tricky brothels could be towards virgins. Ned had covered his face and mumbled pleas for the Gods to rescue him from such misery.

"… and the fact it was a fucking stag and not I- you're loving, responsible and caring older brother! I'm insulted Ned, completely insulted. Did you even know where to put it when she –"

Ned felt dizzy as his face had grown a boiling hot red as Brandon continued his rant. Just as he was about to finally snap at his brother, his eyes caught sight of something in distance. Ned felt his breath catch and his heart stop briefly. Brandon must have heard him or at least noticed as he finally shut up.

Ned couldn't possibly explain all that he felt.

He knew those hills, the plains of frost covered grounds and the small houses clustered together not too far away. And if he squinted a little more to the left, he could see the grey outlines of a castle.

Home.

He's finally home.

Ned heard the clacking clopping of a horse then felt a warm heavy hand on his shoulder. He looked to Brandon and found his brother softly smiling at him.

"Welcome home, little brother."

Ned would forever deny he had cried, but Brandon would never let him forget it. The tears came suddenly, but thankfully, they streamed silently and coldly down his cheeks. He got his act together and wiped his face clean, he smiled widely at his brother, almost wildly.

"What do you say Bran? Shall we race for old times sake?"

Ever the competitive one, Brandon scoffed mockingly with his head high.

"You think you're so great because you've been to the South? I think you've forgotten just how fast the wind can carry me."

Ned rolled his eyes and purposely stared at his brother with taunt.

"Fine, if you're so craven…"

Brandon growled with a glare.

"Watch it little brother."

Ned shrugged and continued to trot forward.

"Why else would you not accept? If you are craven to be outdone by all I've learned in the South-"

Brandon near snarled as he caught up to Ned.

"I know what your doing, but fucking honour demands I accept your challenge. You should know, when you lose, I'll claim my prize and purposely rub it in your face all while you stew in your regret."

Ned arched a brow and scoffed.

"Prize? Fine let's add a prize. What prize do you suggest?"

Brandon's eyes darken with competitive taunt and his grin is more like a showing of teeth.

"First one to reach Winterfell gets to sit next Anya every meal for an entire week."

Ned's expressions shuttered and his eyes narrowed darkly. Tension rose between the brothers immediately and the cold wind whistled as it danced between them. Since they were children, the elder Starks always fought to sit next to Anya. Benjen had always been the unspoken exception, but when it came to Lyanna, Ned and Brandon, their silent battle could get rather out of hand.

Anya was the best person to sit next to meals. She didn't chew obnoxiously loud or splash her drinks about like Brandon whenever he grew excited. She made sure who ever was next to her got the best pieces of meat when dishing her platter. She didn't fidget or flail her arms like Lyanna. Above all else, she never forgot to include you in conversation when Lyanna or Brandon would grow raucously loud.

When it came to competitions involving Anya, there were only three absolute rules.

Rule 1) Anya must never know.

Rule 2) Anya must never cry.

Rule 3) Winner wins, Loser loses. No exceptions.

"How about it, little brother?" Brandon taunts.

Ned leans forward in his saddle and coolly regards his older brother. They ready for their race and wait until they pass their starting mark. Then with an abrupt shout, the two brothers push their horses as fast they could go. The cold wind whips at their cheeks and the clopping of the steeds echo loudly in the quiet morning.

But neither brother care as they competitively focus on their goal of winning.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

It's official. Dorrick is certain his balls will freeze the fuck off if he must spend another night watching the fucking gate. He might as well sign his name to guard the fucking wall. He jumped in place and blew into hands in attempt to warm them ever the slightest.

Winter fucking came this year colder than ever.

Although he was a northerner, Dorrick was no Stark and the cold bothered him greatly.

"Looking a little shaken little horse," one of the guards teased.

"Fuck off. Unless your offering a way to get warm, I've got no time for you."

The guards snickered and laughed but let him be. It took Dorrick a lot of beatings and hard work to earn their respect. As the little Lady Anya's personal guard, they really made him prove he was worth the title. Even now, Dorrick still struggled to believe all of it was real. What had he done to deserve such an honourable and important title? Oh, just sneak the little lady to Wintertown dressed as a boy and have her be degraded, mocked and insulted.

He would call Lord Rickard crazed with madness, but he's witnessed his Lord's sharp mind at work.

For whatever reason, Dorrick had proven himself worth something to Lord Rickard.

"Well, if you're not too bothered, I've a way to warm you…" a voice purred teasingly to his left.

Dorrick turned and all but melted with relief at seeing Arrei hold out a steaming bowl of stew. He grabbed for the meal and moaned with delight as his hands began to thaw. He could feel the stares of the men on his skin and exaggerated his pleasure towards the first bite. He heard their laughter towards his antics, but he could still sense one set of eyes on his face as he licked at his spoon.

He smirked suggestively at Arrei and deeply rasped his thanks with a wink. She giggled with genuine amusement and he felt the stare on his lips quickly stop. Arrei shook her head as he ate and subtly tapped at her ear.

Dorrick didn't bother to hide how wildly his lips stretched with excited success.

Arrei was a great friend. Thanks to her Dorrick just might have something warm to cuddle in the late evening again.

"The little Lady is currently breaking her fast. Lord Stark wishes for you to guard her when she goes to the godswood later," she informs him.

Dorrick nods giving his full attention. He and Arrei had grown close once they'd realized how greatly Lord Stark relied on them to care for his younger children. No one truly understands how reckless and in need of monitoring and care the little Lady needed. Dorrick suspected Rickard Stark protected the little lady due to whatever political games he was attempting, but he would rather not think of such things. The less he knows, the safer he was.

Arrei and he chatted idly as he ate. Both sharing their schedule for the day and devising ways to ensure the Little Lord Benjen could spend more time with Lady Anya; ways for the she-wolf to come across her siblings at least three times a day. Arrei was puzzling out a way to have Lord Rickard 'accidently' stumble across a few gossiping maids when Dorrick caught sight of two approaching riders.

He scrambled to his feet and peered off into the distance intently.

There! He saw them again.

Two riders in dark cloaks riding fast towards Winterfell's gates. Dorrick squinted for something to identify them by, and then he saw it. The cloak of one of the riders was unforgettable. Anya had been so particular with its creation, Dorrick had memorized every detail.

"Is it them?" Arrei whispered with nervous excitement.

Dorrick grinned and gave a single nod before rushing over to the bell. He rang it wildly and it's chiming could be heard all throughout Winterfell. All who lived within the castle had grown silent as the bell tolled. As if they'd all found their breath stuck in their throat.

Then a guard peered out into the distance before turning to roar orders to the rest of the men.

"ALERT LORD RICKARD! HIS SONS RIDE THE WIND UPON THEIR RETURN HOME!"

Chaos erupted as every man and woman burst into action to see everything just the way Lady Anya wished.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

Lyanna, Benjen and Anya had felt rather light and cheery. Perhaps it was because they woke up together warm and snug. Regardless, the three children were full of joyful energy as they teased, ate and laughed during their morning meal.

Anya was just going take a sip of her juice when she heard it.

Everything seemed to freeze in place and the silence that engulfed them was sudden. Anya looked to her father, but all eyes were already watching her. Rickard only gave a small twitch of his lips of approval, and that was all Anya needed to be excused. She could hear Lyanna and Benjen cry her name behind her, begging her to slow down and to be careful, but Anya simply couldn't. She ran through the corridors, ran till her chest ached and her vision blurred.

Everything around her was of no importance, the chaotic scrambling of Winterfell's help, the frantic yelling of the men as they hurried to open the gates; nothing mattered as Anya ran to the gates with her heart in her throat.

Just as she turned the corner, gulping for air with shaking limbs, a rider appeared.

Ned's body ached from being so stiffly held throughout his ride. The galloping of his horse had been frantic, but as he got closer, he cared less about winning he and Brandon's competition. Instead he pushed his horse faster because he was so close. Brandon had been gaining on him at the last turn, they were almost neck and neck.

But Ned caught sight of a small figure bent over in a pretty dress with wind blown hair waiting by the gates.

It could have been Lyanna, but Ned didn't care.

He was home.

She was so close.

It was dangerous, but Ned would not lose to Brandon, he would not be deprived of this right. The gate had only just finished opening when Ned practically jumped from his horse. He heard Brandon cry out with shock, he heard some sharps gasps of shock from whoever saw, but Ned didn't care. He managed to balance back on his feet and from there he simply ran.

He simply knew it was her.

He spread his arms wide as she raced towards him, a small jump and he had her in his arms once again. Ned spun around holding her tight as she wrapped herself around him. Tears in both their eyes as they struggled to believe this was no dream. Ned fell to his knees as he choked out a mixed sound of sobs and laughter. He could feel the neck of his cloak dig into his skin from how tightly she grabbed him. He could feel the hot rasped gulps she gave as she cried.

"You're home, you're really home…" She whimpered.

Ned pulled back as he nodded and cupped her wet cheeks with his trembling fingers. She wiped at his face as well, both marvelling at one another with awe and heartfelt love. Ned felt his eyes grow wide at how much she had grown. Anya had always had soft features so much like their mother. He had once tried to imagine what she would like but could only picture his mother. She was still so young but already so beautiful. Her hair was loose in its braid from her running and the strands framed her face, highlighting her petite nose and defined jawline. Despite the redness of her eyes and flushed cheeks, her eyes sparkled like sun beams catching morning frost.

"Look at you…" he whispered with shock

She choked out a laugh and leaned further into his touch.

"Look at how much you've grown…." He wetly laughed.

Anya beamed so wide her cheeks ached, and she launched herself into Ned's embrace once again.

The two did not part until, they heard Brandon's stomping approach.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

Its hard for Brandon to describe the way his heart dropped to his stomach when Ned jumped from his horse. He also had no words to describe how his stomach twisted and his throat grew scratchy at watching Ned and Anya embrace. He had no words to describe the way his heart twisted with jealousy and overwhelming love at seeing them together.

Because it was Ned and Anya.

Because they had a bond Brandon would never be able to fully understand.

Because it was Anya who never let Ned forget his home and pack.

So, he stayed back and simply watched his second born brother and second born sister reunite. He ignored the bitter jealously that festered in his heart. When he finally shifted his stare from the two it was to meet Lyanna's mirrored stare. They exchanged a silent understanding with one another, an understanding that brought them bittersweet comfort.

But then Anya beamed, and the raw happiness and pure joy she expressed silenced any negative thoughts he could possibly have.

Eyes full of wonder and star filled worship, eyes full of overwhelming love and sweet sincerity.

Ned had done the one thing Brandon could never do….

He shattered her mask and warmed her heart once more.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

Lyanna wanted to be angry. She wanted to feel hatred and anger because at least she knew what to do with those emotions. She wanted rage to fill her heart and drown out the heavy pit forming in her belly.

But she couldn't.

Not when Ned was crying so openly looking so free and ecstatic. Not when Anya was crying tears of bliss not betrayal. Not when Ned had shattered their precious little sister's stupid mask and brought back the innocence, they thought their mother's death stole.

It hurt that already Ned was proving all the ways Anya needed him more.

She glanced at Brandon and felt kinship bloom between them. An understanding only, they alone would ever know, as the first-born son and daughter. Lyanna had never really understood the importance of responsibility until this moment.

She once held fantasies of becoming a knight or sworn shield. Imagined herself fighting battles and conquering wars. It had been her dream, a dream she vowed to fight for.

In this moment… Lyanna knew she wanted something different.

In the privacy of her mind, Lyanna vowed to the gods a different dream.

'No matter the sacrifice… I will protect this…. I will fight for this…. For them… for home. I swear it.'

Lyanna felt a cold shiver crawl down her spine, prompting an ominous feeling to overcome her. But she ignored it with determination and clenched her right hand over her heart.

"Winter is coming…." She whispered before racing to join her gathered siblings.

~*~*~Winter Storm Queen~*~*~

Rickard watched his older children with his heart in his throat. The four of them had grown so much over the years. Anya and Lyanna were up to their brother's chests, Anya being a little shorter than Lyanna. Ned's hair looked dark brown rather than raven black, like his mother and younger sister. As they laughed and joked, the picture they made shifted.

He saw Brandon, a man grown looking wild as ever with his usual roguish grin. But there was something in his eyes that looked peaceful… and Rickard realized it was contentment. It didn't stop him from wondering about the odd scar around his son's throat or how quiet he appeared. There was Ned who looked worn and ragged, more than any of his siblings. He appeared solemn, but his eyes shone with love. They were the eyes of a man who survived horrors unimaginable but continued to survive.

He then looked to Lyanna and his breath caught at her appearance. There was nothing gentle about her image, she exuded fierceness and wild dare. She had her hair loose and wore a dress of grey stained with splashes of red. Her steel grey eyes sharp and cutting like swords and her lips twisted in a blood thirsty smile. A she-wolf in all ways. He wondered if the blood she dripped with was her own or her enemies.

Then his eyes turn to Anya and he feels his heart stop. For a single second he thought her to be Lyarra. It was the crown on her brow that told him otherwise. It was the blank emotionless mask she wore, the way she held her head high. She looked regal but so cold and filled with ice. When she looked to him, he felt as if he'd been skewered by ice needles all over. Why did his sweet daughter look so heartless?

Then the images they made flickered between his laughing pups and their burdened adulthood.

"But…. Where is Benjen?" Ned asked, jolting Rickard from his daze.

The small figure hiding behind him clutched at his cloak nervously.

Benjen was beyond nervous, and his fidgeting grew worse when Brandon called his name.

"He's never been this shy before?" Brandon huffed.

"He doesn't remember Ned, stupid" Lyanna snapped.

"Benjen?" Anya called sounding worried.

Rickard looked to his youngest and softly pushed.

"Come on, won't you go greet your brother?" He mumbled.

"W-What if he doesn't like me?" Benjen whispered.

Ned had moved close enough to hear the whisper, and Rickard kept quiet, curious as to how his son would answer.

"Benjen?" Ned softly called.

Rickard looked down to his youngest and gave him another encouraging nudge. He tried not to smile at how Benjen took a deep breath and bravely stepped forward. They all watched as eight-year-old Benjen approached Ned like a lord would a fellow lord. He looked up at Ned with his head high and introduced himself.

"Dear brother Ned, I am most glad to have you return home safely."

Ned started to smile and at his side Anya was already beaming with pride. They heard Brandon open his mouth.

"Pfft Are you- YOOOW! LYANNA!"

"Shut up stupid," Lyanna snapped.

Benjen ignored them and did his best not to appear nervous. Ned gave a shallow bow and took Benjen's outstretched hand looking beyond impressed.

"Precious Benjen…. Gods… already more man than Brandon."

Benjen laughed and by the shock on his face it was unintentional. Ned grinned slyly as Brandon retorted with indignation, all the while Lyanna and Anya hooted with laughter. Ned pulled Benjen into a hug and pulled away with a grin. He ruffled Benjen's hair and sincerely smiled.

"Thank you for protecting our sisters while we were away. I'm so proud of you."

Benjen turned red with embarrassment and shyly toed at the ground.

Brandon scowled and shoved at Ned from behind.

"Suck up. I'm his favourite brother so don't get any ideas."

Benjen looked thoughtful and absently spoke out loud.

"I don't know Bran… I never thought about a favourite brother…."

"Oi!"

As the children began to banter and bicker Rickard took that moment to wrap his arm around Ned's shoulder. Ned looked to his father looking overwhelmed with emotion but above all else full of love.

"Welcome home son," Rickard smiled.

Ned inhaled deeply as he was suddenly ambushed by his siblings. The beastly rage in his heart no longer howling but tempered and calm with a howl of joy.

He was finally home.

*There have been major hints and implications towards the political changes I've made. I've also hinted alot towards Rickards plans for his children. As I've opted to focus more on the family dynamic of the Starks, it's really up to you readers to see if you can puzzle it out :) Otherwise you're all going to have to wait till Harrenhal. Updates will unfortunately be slow, but you can all look forward to a chapter revolving around the Stark children puzzling through their new dynamic and a Baratheon family focused chapter. Once again, If you are interested in being a Beta for this fic PM so we can discuss details :D*