Chapter Text
Eddard Stark
The snow was once again covering Winterfell in its serene and deadly beauty. It was not winter, just some summer snows. Nothing the Northerners were not used to. But sometimes the known could be just as dangerous as the unknown if one was not careful.
He sat in his solar, watching the white flakes slowly descending from the heavens, deep in thought. The North was in a good shape. Few issues came up over the years, and the scars of the rebellion were slowly starting to heal.
The scars had been deep, of that there was no doubt. Many families had been diminished, with some even getting extinguished. The most notable of which was probably the line of the former Red Kings.
The last of their line had fallen in the fields next to the trident, when a Dornish cavalry charge nearly broke the left flank. Now, the former lands of the Boltons had been distributed to some degree amongst the surrounding houses of Umber, Karstark, Hornwood, Flint, and Manderly.
With the discovery of the atrocities within the Dreadfort, after the last Bolton, Roose, had died in the rebellion, it had been the consensus of the Northern lords to tear down that evil place. The Boltons had been the bane of the Starks for thousands of years, and finally they were gone. Splitting the lands, and tearing down the ancient keep would ensure that they never returned.
After the rebellion, he had requested some aid in repairing the North from the crown. Robert had, true to his fashion, gone over the top and granted much more than was necessary. Beyond the payment of a quarter of the royal treasury of the old king, which amounted to just short of five-hundred-thousand gold dragons, he had granted the Gift and New Gift back to the North.
It had not been well received from the Night’s Watch. However in reality, since no proper governing system existed in the lands, the Watch seldom saw any actual tribute from it. At least Robert had compensated the loss with a pledge to properly organise the collection of taxes that were owed to the Watch. The lords of the south had a tendency to ‘misplace’ the money. Overall, the Watch saw an non-negligible increase in funding.
The Gift was certainly a welcome addition to the North. The lands were said to be some of the most fertile north of the Riverlands, filled with many smaller lakes, and streams, perfect for farming, fishing, and rearing animals. The mountains to the west also were said to contain some ores that could be mined. Overall, it was a very attractive lordship. He had even seen to it that the ‘capital’ of Queenscrown would be refurbished to make it lovable again.
There was still one problem. There was currently no one to govern it.
There had been ample requests form various lords to grant some lands to some of their sons. Others had requested to be granted the entirety of the Gift. He had denied them without a single thought.
If someone should rule the entirety of the Gift, and rule it well, they could become one of the most dominant bannermen. Fertile lands, possible mines, plenty of forest and lumber, an already existing connection to the Kingsroad, and both eastern and western coast. Whoever would rule it, would be powerful indeed.
But that posed the problem. If possible, it should be granted to someone undeniably leal to house Stark. Or better yet, to someone who was tied to them by blood. That, however, narrowed down the choices considerably.
The Manderlys were leal, having never broken faith since they were granted lands in the north. But they were already the richest house in the North, with plenty of military strength to back it up. Granting them further boons would be unwise.
The Mormonts were truer than any other bannermen. The problem being the uncomfortable situation with Jorah Mormont. The former lord of Bear Island being sentenced to death for slavery, and his subsequent flight, still affecting the small house. He trusted Lady Maege like few others, but he could hardly grant the Mormonts such vast amounts of land after the dishonour that befell them.
The Umbers, Karstarks, and Glovers were similar to the Manderlys. With more land they would become too powerful. There was the possibility of granting it to one of the Starks to create a cadet branch. The problem here was that he had no cousins or siblings to grant it to, after Benjen had taken the black. House Stark was not large at this moment. There were some cousins that were quite far removed, like some of the Flints of the mountain clans. But none close enough or bearing the Stark name.
That left his children. Robb would inherit Winterfell, that was given. But Bran was still only three years of age, it would not be wise to grant it to a small child, even with someone to act as regent until he came of age. Besides, he had envisioned for Bran to one day govern Moat Cailin.
With the funds from the crown, he had began the slow reconstruction of the ancient fort. It would take a very long time to complete, but there was not as much as a rush to it as with the gift. The Moat had few ungoverned lands surrounding it. Most was overseen by the Reeds, Manderlys and Dustins. Once the constructions would be finished, they would give it up to create a prober sustainable lordship. This had already been agreed upon, but until that time came the lands would still be properly governed, and not lay there unused.
The Gift, however, needed a new lord soon. Very soon. There was no system of governance in place, with only a few isolated villages dotting the landscape that were under constant threat of wildling raids, even if they had become more scarce since the Watch received their proper funding.
That left him with only one proper choice. He did not really know why it irked him to the extend that it did to consider it. Was he afraid of Catelyn? Of Jon himself? Or maybe the voice at the back if his mind screaming at him that Jon was owed so much more? He did not know. But the reality of the situation was that Jon was known to the world as his bastard. Being lord of the Gift and Queenscrown would be at least something considerable.
And as far removed from the vipers nest of King’s Landing as possible. He would never be safe there.
No, Jon being granted the rule over the Gift woulf be the best course of action for everyone involved. The lad was loyal, kind, smart, clever, and very promising with a blade, even if both Maester Luwin and himself knew that he was holding back in his lessons. Something that made him very ashamed, as he knew the exact reason as to why.
Nevertheless, Jon was receiving a lord’s education and was trained by a master at arms. He was as capable as Robb in ruling, and leading men, should it come down to it. He could never give Jon -Jaehaerys- his birthright, but he could give him as much as was in his power to grant. The legitimisation and founding of a new house would only take one raven to Robert, who would never deny him such a request.
He sighed and told Jory to brim Jon to him after his morning lessons. It was time to begin to enact his decisions. And maybe even get Jon’s opinion on certain matters. Sometimes a child’s mind came up with ideas or solutions that never occurred to the elders.
He finished some letters and figures of the day-to-day duties as the lord of Winterfell, until the knock on his door came.
“My lord, Jon is here, as you requested,” Jory said trough the door.
“Let him in,” he ordered, and put down some of the letters he was reading.
The door was opened and Jon slowly walked inside, closing it behind him, with a worried look on his face. Ned gave him a warm smile. Usually the children were summoned to his solar whenever they were in trouble.
“You wished to see me, my lord?” Jon asked.
“Don’t worry son, your have done nothing wrong,” he said to calm him. “Sit down, I wanted to talk to you about you future. And please, call me ‘father’. You are my son, don’t let anyone tell you that you must hide that fact.”
“Yes, father,” Jon said, visibly relaxed, and took a seat in the chair opposite.
“Now, son, have you considered what you yourself want to do in the future? From what I hear and see, you show quite a bit of promise in the sparring yard, and Maester Luwin is impressed with your knowledge and aptitude with numbers. But you learn those skills to serve you later on in life. So, do you have any dreams or ambitions for yourself?”
Jon shifted a bit in his seat before speaking. “I suppose, I have thought about joining the Night’s Watch, the same as uncle Benjen.”
Whilst it did not shock him, it pained his heart quite a bit. So young, barely ten namedays. And he already thought to forswear his life to serve at the Wall.
“And why are you considering to join?”
“There is honour in serving the Night’s Watch,” Jon said, though he did not miss the somewhat hesitant tone in his voice.
“Aye, there is honour in serving, I won’t deny that. But are you sure that is what you want,” he asked.
“I… I suppose, I could become a master at arms… somewhere,” Jon said.
“Jon,” he said, and looked him directly in the eyes, “do you somehow not feel welcome in Winterfell?”
The slightly panicked and nervous look in Jon’s eyes was all the answer he needed. He sighed deeply.
“Jon, I understand why you feel that way. And I want you to know that I am sorry, son. This is my fault and not yours. I promise that I will speak with my wife about this. You should never hold back, not whilst sparring or in the lessons with Maester Luwin. I am sorry that is has taken me some time to properly realise this. You should never feel unwelcome. As I have always told you, you may not have my name, but you have my blood, the blood of Starks, and Winterfell will always be open to you.”
He could see a slight appreciative smile form on Jon’s face.
“Now,” he continued, “I asked you whether or not you had any dreams, because I have something that I feel would allow you to become your own man, to build up your own name. I will not force this on you as I want you to be happy, but I believe that this is something that benefits the North and our family greatly.” He paused and took out a map of the North, with its new borders, and set it onto the table. “Jon, I would name you the Lord of Queenscrown and the Gift, as a direct bannerman of House Stark, and would ask for you to be legitimised to found an entirely new house and name to pass onto you children and children’s children and beyond.”
He could not help but smile at Jon’s reaction. His face was one of utter shock, with his mouth wide open.
“You… you would make me a lord?” Jon asked completely disbelieving.
“Yes, son, and a powerful one at that. What do you know of the lands of the Gift?”
Jon had to gather himself a bit before he answered. “The Gift was made up of Brandon’s Gift and the New Gift, spanning fifty leagues north to south, from the western coast to the eastern. It was granted back to the North as part of the reparation treaties, following the rebellion.”
“Very good, Jon,” he said, “you are correct in what you said. What is more is that it does not have a lord to govern it currently. This is a very large lordship, rivalling some of our most notable bannermen, such as the Umbers or Glovers, with ample farmland, forests, rivers, and lakes. This would be a huge responsibility for you, as most everything would have to be properly organised and much rebuilt and newly constructed. You would have my help, of course, but I want you to know that this is not something to take lightly. This is, however, also a huge opportunity for you, something that you are more than deserving of. So, what do you say?”
Jon did not say anything and rushed to embrace him, throwing his arms around his neck. “Thank you, father, thank you! I will make you proud, I promise,” Jon said with tears in his eyes.
“You already do,” he assured him, returning the embrace. “Now, run along. I will have to organise a few things, but tomorrow we will speak more on your new lands and title.”
Jon nodded eagerly and rushed out to probably tell his siblings. Even if he hat told Jon to keep it a secret, Robb and Arya always managed to get Jon to tell them everything.
Now to speak to Cat. He sighed and made his way to find his wife.He should have guessed that it would not be an easy conversation to have.
“You would do what?” Cat practically screamed at him.
“As I said, Jon will be granted the Gift as his lordship and become a bannerman of house Stark,” he replied as calmly as he could.
“That b- he does not deserve it,” she tried to argue. “It should go to Bran, to one of our children.”
He sighed but continued. “Bran will get Moat Cailin, once he is of age. It is the most important fortress in the north, and is being reconstructed as we speak. But it will still take some time and Bran is only a boy of three namedays. The Gift will need a lord sooner rather than later. Jon is the best choice.”
Cat looked like she wanted to argue further, but kept silent for the moment.
“Benjen is at the Wall, I have no other siblings, no Stark cousins we could grant it to. And Jon is as smart and capable as any man. He will make a good lord,” he said.
“But how do you know that he will not…,” she paused for a moment, “…seek more?”
“Cat,” he sighed. “Jon loves our children, every one of them. I asked him of his dreams for the future, and he said that he could take the black. A child of ten, prepared to swear his life away because he does not feel welcome in the place that should be his home.” He held up his hands before she could interject. “I know what you are going to say. But whilst he is being treated better than many bastards, he only has his siblings to compare himself to. And I spoke to Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrick, he holds himself back because he fears that if he does well, he will be punished.
“Cat, I know that this isn’t easy for you, but you need not be a mother to him. Just do not make a motherless child feel as if he is not allowed to be himself. He had no say in the circumstances of his birth, the sole fault lies with me, so please do not punish him for it.”
They sat in silence for some time. Cat looked between being still angry and slightly ashamed of her actions.
“So his mother is dead, then?” she finally asked. She had obviously caught his slight slip of the tongue.
“Aye,” he answered quietly. “We are the only family he has left.”
She looked down into her lap, and straightened some of the wrinkles in her dress.
“Cat, I do not want to fight over this. But you must understand that Jon is my blood, I cannot ignore him, and I love him the same way I love our children, not more, not less.”
“I will strive to be better,” she finally said, even though it sounded quite forced. “When will he assume his new position?”
“Officially, upon his majority,” he said. “Though, I believe, he will visit a lot prior to it. There is a lot of work still to be done.”
She nodded and stood up. “By your leave.”
“Thank you, Cat, for understanding,” he said softly.
She left his solar and left him in quiet contemplation once more. The snow was still falling outside his windows. The kids would have a lot of fun on the morrow if it continues like this, he thought to himself.
Over the next moons, he threw himself into the organisation of his plans. A raven was sent to the capital, informing Robert of his plans for Jon, something that he agreed to immediately.
Furthermore, he noticed that Jon began to show his full potential more openly. Whilst Cat was still not overly friendly to him, she began to actually call him by his name and made an actual effort to be polite.
Robb was astonished over the change. Most notably the fact that Jon actually much better in many aspects than him, be it in the sparring yard, or the library. At first, he neared that the two brothers would have a fallout over this, but in many ways it was the opposite.
Robb now had an actual challenger of an age with him. That was not to say that Robb was now in Jon’s shadow, he still excelled in many aspects, such as mounted combat and battle strategy. But he was no longer winning his spars with Jon because he was the heir. It pushed them both to become better than they were, and made them even closer as friends, much to his relief.
Both Robb and Jon also joined him in many cases when it came to the planning for the lands of the Gift. For Jon it was obvious, as he would rule the lands sooner rather than later. But for Robb it was an excellent lesson for his later time as Warden of the North. Having to appoint new lords to various castles and holdfasts happened more often than one thought. Admittedly, seldom on this scale, the distribution of the lands of the Boltons being the exception.
Not to long after the decisions had been made, the three of them traveled to Queenscrown. He had received reports of it, of course, but getting an image for himself was always the better alternative.
As it turned out, it was a good choice, as there was much that needed to be built, before it could become a proper seat for Jon. Queenscrown itself was a holdfast on an island in the middle of a lake. There once had also been a small village on the shore, however, it had rotted away with time.
The holdfast itself was a large, round tower, made of carved stone. They landed on the shores of the island which had eroded away with time, and were quite tricky to navigate. Something would need to be done about that. Luckily, the tower itself was surprisingly still in decent condition.
Inside the tower, the windows were all shattered and broken, of course, and the wood and iron of the doors and floors no longer in a suitable condition. But the overall stone structure was still in good enough shape that it would not have to be rebuilt, only repaired in a few places.
Beneath the tower were an couple of floors with high ceilings that were surprisingly dry and cool. Though, the further down they went, the warmer it got, with the lowest floors being very comfortable, even though, it was currently quite cold weather outside.
They would be excellent storerooms in the future, with the upper floors suitable for the fresher ingredients, and the lower ones for grain and dried goods.
Overall the keep was quite suitable if it was refurbished, and most of the funds could be allocated to the construction of a stone bridge, connecting the island to the mainland near the place where the new village would be constructed, and the proper fortification of the shore surrounding the tower.
They also scouted the surrounding lands for notable details. Soon large hot springs near the western shore that emptied into the lake were discovered. That explained the reason why the lake supposedly never froze over, even in the coldest winter, and the warm temperatures in the lower parts of the keep. Definitely something of use.
Whilst they did not venture into the mountains themselves, some experienced miners from the mountain clans had reported a good possibility of large iron ore deposits, though any further scouting would have to be continued once the summer snows receded a bit further.
That, combined with the ample lumber from the nearby forest, would ensure plenty of resources. The stone for any constructions would have to be gathered form the mountains, as the soil was quite deep in the east, making a quarry difficult, and mining near the hot springs would not be a good idea, as they could be disturbed and cease to exist.
So far, nothing that could not be achieved.
They had also gathered some experienced farmers with them who had pointed out good places to grow various crops. The various types of corn were a given, such as rye, wheat, and barley, but many root vegetables were apparently well suited for the climate and soil. Furthermore, they were told that certain fruit trees, such as pears, plums and apples would also be able to grow well.
As for livestock, sheep were apparently the best suited to the western rocky conditions. Though, with the relatively flat and very fertile land to the east, really any domestic animal would be suitable, or so there were told.
One farmer in particular was massively excited when they spotted a herd of aurochs on the plains, and immediately requested permission to breed and rear them, which they easily granted. If these creatures thrived in these lands, that would be a massive boon, since they were hugely coveted for their tasty meat, and were almost extinct in the south.
They returned after one moon, stopping by at Last Hearth along their way back. The scouting was now largely done and the proper planning could commence. He had gathered some of the most experienced builders and craftsmen, along with miners, farmers, and blacksmiths to put forth good solutions. Together with Jon, they would come up with the ideas that would shape the new lordship.
He was a bit wary of the potential cost of the whole affair, but decided to at least allocate fifty-thousand dragons. Maybe they would not need it all, maybe they would need more, but it was a hefty sum to begin with.
Jon Snow
The last year had been undoubtedly the best of his life so far. He would have never expected to be granted a lordship, and certainly not one as large as the Gift. After he had received the news, he had thrown himself into his studies. No more felt he like they were pointless, and wasted on him.
His main interests now covered everything that could help him govern his future lands and people. Books concerning farming, smithing, building, and even fishing were piled up on the desk in in room. Those were in addition to those that covered ruling, governing, and accounting. He wanted to be as good as possible at these things to make his father proud.
He also did not neglect his sword training, though he was already quite comfortable and no longer allocated additional time outside the typical training. That time was now needed elsewhere.
Furthermore, he had noticed, and massively enjoyed, the change in Lady Stark’s treatment of him. Sure, she was still not overly fond of him, but at least she refrained from shooting him her hateful glares, whenever he was better than Robb at something. She even called him by his name now!
Between his studies, training, planning with his father, and not to forget, playing with his siblings, especially Arya and Robb, he was busy from dawn till dusk on most days. But somehow it did not rally matter to him. He enjoyed doing it, and slept better than he could ever remember.
The trip to Queenscrown had also been a wonderful experience. The holdfast was not nearly as large as Winterfell, sure, it was more like one very large tower at the moment, but he had already come up with many plans and improvements that he would soon propose.
Firstly, he wanted to build a bridge of stone. That was something that he, father, and the builders agreed upon. Transporting everything by boat would quickly become tiresome and was also not cheap in labour. A bridge would benefit them immensely in the long run.
Secondly, he had plans to ‘expand’ the island a little bit. In reality they were already planning on building a proper wall surrounding the holdfast, and could simply fill in the shallow parts of the shore with soil and stone beforehand.
They were told that the island had probably been larger when the holdfast had been built and that the water level had simply risen over the years, leaving only very little land. Overall, if it went the way he envisioned, it could grant them more space to place some important buildings, such as a gatehouse for the bridge, the guards’ barracks, smaller towers for defence, and servants quarters.
If they had more room, they might even fit in a smithy and larger kitchens, the existing ones in the tower had been pitifully small, and even without a proper bakery.
Thirdly, he wanted a proper road built. Whilst at first, he had envisioned one stretching from coast to coast, perhaps connecting two smaller costal towns with docks for ships, he had been told that that endeavour would be extremely expensive and time consuming, and most likely not worth the investment. He had been a bit disappointed about that, but at least insisted on one connecting Queenscrown to the Kingsroad. That was something they all agreed upon.
Lastly, he had some plans for the farms and glass gardens. Whilst reading a book by Maester Vorian, The Issues and Solutions of Growing Plants in Extreme Conditions, a terrible slog, but quite interesting if you could stomach the dull writing, he came across the way they irrigated their crops and orchards in Dorne, with intricate canals and waterways.
Whilst the Gift did not lack water, the same as Dorne did, Robb even jested that they should call it the Springlands, given that there was water bubbling from the ground almost everywhere, the colder climate was still an issue, even with the fertile soil.
In the end, he got the idea from Winterfell itself. It also sat upon a series of hot springs and had the water run through pipes in the walls, making the castle warm even in winter, even if some fires were still required in rooms with windows to make it comfortable.
The lake of Queenscrown itself was warmer than one would have expected of a lake so far north. And the hot springs on the western side of the lake provided a great opportunity. He had come up with a plan to create channels to let the warm waters flow through the fields and orchards, to keep the soil warm and irrigated. The same could be done with the glass gardens that had already been panned.
According to Maester Luwin, it could heat the gardens enough, so that they could save a lot of glass for the roofs and still have a warm environment for the plants. Perhaps, they could even build a sort of bridge for the water to flow into the holdfast to have running warm water and maybe even a bathhouse. Though that would not be a priority and more of a luxury later on.
Overall, he was massively exited to begin, he had more plans than he could ever realise, but planning such things was simply so much fun! He had even begun to plan for his new house.
At first he had been a bit disappointed that he would not be a Stark, as that was something that he always wanted to be. But one day his father had pointed out that Sansa and Arya would most likely take on the name of the man they would marry, but that they would still be Starks, despite their names.
Looking at it that way had warmed him up to the idea. After all, he could make a house that would always remember him as its founder. Now that was something!
Together with Robb, Arya and Sansa, ha had tried to come up with different names and words for his new house. Robb had recommended simply choosing ‘House Icewind’, as he though it fitting for the northernmost house of the realm. That one was not so bad, in his opinion, though not quite what he had envisioned.
Sansa recommend something that would incorporate the royal imagery of ‘Queenscrown’, such as ‘House Queenswood’, or ‘House Snowcrown’, but those did not really fit, and he did not really want to incorporate his bastard surname into his new house. He would rather leave it behind.
Arya had recommended ‘Wolfstark’. Sure, it was not extremely creative, but it certainly got the point across. They had even asked Bran, but he had simply said ‘House Wolf’. Admittedly, not the worst idea, surprisingly.
It was certainly better than ‘House Footly’ from the Reach. Their founder must have been just weird, he decided when he had learned about them.
But it was not quite what he had imagined. For now, his running favourite was ‘House Winter’. Again, not very creative, but he admittedly liked the sound of the title ‘Lord Winter’, or maybe even ‘Lord of Winter’. Now that sounded impressive. Though, maybe that would be too close to ‘King of Winter’, the former title of the Starks before the conquest.
As for the house words, he was not quite sure what approach to take. There were those that had more like proper mottos, such as house Hightower with ‘We light the way’, or, of course, ‘Winter is coming’ of house Stark. Others had more a list of qualities that they prided themselves in. ‘Family, Duty, Honour’ of house Tully being one example, or the most famous one of ‘Fire and Blood’ of house Targaryen.
Even if he knew that the Targaryens were not much liked nowadays, he always thought that their banner and words were the most awe inspiring, compared to others.
Something about black and red really appealed to him, and he wanted to incorporate it into his house’s banner. Unfortunately, simply black and red would most likely be seen as distasteful, with the whole story of his grandfather and uncle and aunt. But he liked the colours!
The solution came to him one day when he was partying in front of the weirwood. He had never really thought about motifs, but when he looked up, the idea came to him. A weirwood! A weirwood an a field of black. That gave him the house colours of black, red and white. Now, that appealed to him.
He could even justify the filed of black as an homage to the Night’s Watch, as it was formerly their land that he would rule. The weirwood would not need to be explained as they were the symbol of the old gods.
In fact, whilst Queenscrown had no proper godswood near the holfast itself, as there was no room on the island, there was a massive grove of weirwoods that bordered the northern shore that he had seen when they had visited. A proper wall surrounding it, and connection it to the walls that were planned for the village on the eastern shore, and it would be as good a godswood as any in the north.
If he went with the name ‘House Winter’, he also decided that he would incorporate some winter roses into the coat of arms. Maybe not on the simplified banner that would be painted on the shields of his men, or embroidered onto clothes, but on the official coat of arms, they could line the edges. Yes, that was something that he liked the idea of.
As for the house words, he still had almost five years before he would be officially a lord, so he had ample time to come up with something. Until then, he would continue to read, practice, and make plans. He finally had a future he looked forward to.