Adapting
Chapter 5
Adapting
Catelyn was angry with him.
Ned could sense it as soon as he entered her bedchamber. He hadn’t seen his lady wife since early that morning. He and his fellow riders had returned to Winterfell just before nightfall and he’d been informed that Catelyn had taken and early meal and retired to her chambers. He had forsaken his own supper, having left his appetite by the execution block, and headed straight to the godswood to clean his sword. It seemed to take longer to wash the blood off of his greatsword tonight.
Catelyn stood by a roaring fire, the flames casting distorted flickering shadows around the room as Ned sat on her bed with a deep sigh. “He was a boy,” Ned said bleakly. “Barely older than Robb.”
Catelyn flinched but said nothing. He knew that she disliked it when he carried out the King’s Justice. He disliked carrying it out too, but it had never occurred to him to do anything other than his duty.
“I’m glad I did not take Bran,” Ned admitted as the condemned boy’s screams echoed in his mind. He had briefly considered sending for his third son to witness the justice but the boy still felt too young. Soon. Bran would come soon.
“And what of Arya?” Catelyn asked coldly, giving him a sharp look.
Ned frowned. “Arya?”
“After you left this morning, Arya locked herself in her room,” Catelyn explained. “It took until mid-afternoon for her to come out. Do you have any idea why she was upset?”
Ned furrowed his brow. He had been briefly aware of Arya being present when they had readied to leave but what had cause her such turmoil, he couldn’t fathom.
“She wanted to go with you,” Catelyn stated and Ned nearly laughed until he remembered that Arya had apparently been very upset.
“She knows I wouldn’t take her,” Ned replied.
“No, she thought she knew that until you permitted that girl to go.”
Ned frowned at her choice of words. “Catelyn,” he began but she cut across him, obviously getting to the root of what was bothering her.
“She sets a bad example to the girls, Ned. No wonder Arya gets confused about what is right or wrong for someone of her status.” She paced the room, her arms gesturing how severe the situation was. “Luckily, Sansa is old enough to know what is expected of her, but Arya—Arya’s always been easily led.”
“That is true,” Ned interjected and Catelyn’s eyes flashed angrily.
“When she stopped attending music or needlework do you know how long Arya complained about her own participation? She still talks to me of it.” She put her hands on her hips and shook her head slightly.
“I seem to recall you mentioning her dislike of those activities many a moon’s turn before Hermione arrived here,” Ned pointed out.
“I did,” Catelyn conceded. “But back then she never thought she’d truly be given permission to stop attending, Ned. Now she thinks it’s just a matter of time.”
“I hope you have explained to Arya that Hermione does not waste that time; she uses it to further her learning of the Common Tongue,” Ned argued. “Maester Luwin tells me she is making exceptional progress—you must have seen her reading everywhere. She’s even read to me, Catelyn. And when she hasn’t got her nose in a book, they tell me that she writes. Apparently, she’s filled hundreds of pieces of parchment in her own language. You could hardly argue that she is a bad influence for the girls—she seems more academically dedicated than any woman I’ve ever met.”
Catelyn appeared stung by his words and turned back to the fire. “Why did you let her accompany the riding party today?”
Ned didn’t like the idea of talking to his wife’s back so he stood and moved to the fire too.
“Both Harry and Hermione seemed to find the idea of sentencing someone to death abhorrent,” Ned said.
“Do they not execute people in Lorath?” Catelyn wondered with the tiniest trace of scorn.
Ned paused, questioning for the hundredth time why he had not told his wife the truth of Harry and Hermione’s arrival. It wasn’t a question of trust; he knew that he could rely on Catelyn for most everything. It was more an issue of belief. Both he and his wife held strong beliefs, just not in the same gods. Ned had always respected Catelyn’s reverence of the Faith of the Seven. Those were the gods that she had been brought up worshipping and he had made sure that a sept was built at Winterfell for her arrival. She, in turn, was respectful towards the old gods, though he knew that the heart tree unnerved her.
If he confided in her that Harry and Hermione had appeared out of nowhere into the godswood, possibly at the will of the gods, he worried what her reaction would be. She’d almost certainly be angry with him, both for lying to her and keeping something this important from her. She’d be scared too—not really for herself, but for the children. One of the things Ned loved most about his wife was her devotion to their children; she would put their needs above her own at every single time of asking. If Catelyn believed her children to be in any sort of danger from Harry and Hermione then she would not rest until the threat was somehow removed. Supposing Ned was meant to save and protect Harry and Hermione, he could hardly be forced to choose between the wishes of his wife and the wishes of the gods without dishonoring himself. No, it was better for everyone if Catelyn was unaware of Harry and Hermione’s true arrival, even if that decision flooded him with guilt.
“I’m unaware of how justice is carried out in Lorath,” Ned replied smoothly. “But guessing by their reaction, it is something they are unfamiliar with. I didn’t want them to get a false perception of how the execution was carried out. If they are going to be staying in Westeros, they need to become familiar with our ways. I let Hermione come so that she could understand, Catelyn.”
“And did she?” Catelyn enquired. “Did either of them understand why you had to kill ‘a boy’, as you said?”
Ned sighed. He would have preferred not to show Harry and Hermione the full extent of the law at all, and he certainly wished that they hadn’t been present that afternoon. The boy did not die a good death. “No, I don’t think so.” He admitted.
They stood in silence for a few seconds, watching and listening to the crackling of the flames. Ned glanced at his wife—admiring as he so often had before how beautiful she was. The light from the fire seemed to set her auburn locks aflame. A few stray hairs hung loose, framing her face. He longed to brush them away and take her in his arms.
“She should be married, Ned,” Catelyn said softly. Distracted by his precious thoughts, it took him a few seconds to realize what she was suggesting. He looked at her in shock.
“No.”
“Why not? She is of the right age,” Catelyn pointed out.
“Barely,” he argued. In truth, he did not know her age though he estimated she was of thirteen or fourteen years. Not many maids were married that young.
“The servants tell me she has had her first bleeding and there are many good men in Winterfell in need of a wife,” his own wife continued eagerly, but paused with a sigh. “Though I warn you, Ned, if you let her carry on in her independent ways for much longer, there will not be many who would have her. But if you find her a husband now then she will accustom more quickly to the ways of the North, as I did.”
“this will not make Arya suddenly start acting like a lady,” Ned said, knowing the real motivating force behind Catelyn’s words. She pursed her lips into a thin line but did not respond. “I have no concerns with how both Hermione and Harry have conducted themselves since their arrival at Winterfell, despite what obstacles they may have faced to get here. They came here to seek my protectiong and they have proved themselves worthy of it; I intend to name them as my wards.” Catelyn’s eyes narrowed angrily but Ned hurried on quickly. “Please understand that I do not do this to hurt you, my lady. I will explain to them that they are expected to maintain certain standards of behavior but,” he warned, “I will not expect them to change their beliefs and I will not stop them pursuing anything, unless it seriously impinges on the honor of this house.”
Catelyn regarded him for a few seconds, Ned meeting her gaze. “You must do as you think right.” She said eventually, before turning back to the fire.
Ned knew that she no longer wished for his presence at that moment. “I hope you sleep well.” He murmured, leaving the room. He did not like arguing with his wife and mercifully those occasions had been very rare. He hoped that Catelyn believed him in that his fostering of Harry and Hermione was not as a result of their discussion. He had been considering the possibility for a while. Since their arrival he had understandably been keeping and informed watch on their actions. As far as he could tell, there was nothing about these children to cause him any concern. If he hadn’t actually seen them fall from the sky then he would not have believed there to be anything unusual about them at all.
The only slightly odd occurrence had happened the morning after they had arrived, when Maester Luwin had discovered Hermione’s door to be unlocked. The Maester maintained his belief that he had locked the door the previous evening but, as Hermione had still been in the room anyway, the matter was soon dismissed as a peculiarity. There would always be that uncertainty nagging at the back of his mind where Harry and Hermione were concerned, but he couldn’t see that that doubt was ever likely to disappear and he accepted that.
Their reactions to the executions hadn’t displeased him at all. Most children of their age in Westeros would be familiar with the repercussions of breaking the King’s Law and be accepting, almost indifferent to an execution. In the cities, the common people even looked forward to and celebrated them. However, Harry and Hermione’s despair at death proved how innocent and sheltered tehir lives had been thus far and it confirmed to him that they were in need of his protection. He had not had the chance to speak with them since the execution for he had been eager to return to Winterfell before nightfall, but it was not too late in the evening to discuss things now.
“Please send word for Harry and Hermione to meet me in the Maester’s turret,” he instructed on of the guards, before making his own way there.
Maester Luwin was in his solar, writing on some parchment. “Ah, my lord, I’m glad you have come, I need your seal to send this report of the man’s death to Castle Black.” He handed the letter over for Ned to read. It was an accurate notification of the boy’s death, though it was not a true reflection. Maester Luwin had not been there, of course, but even if he had Ned knew he would not mention the boy’s screams and sobs to the men of the Night’s Watch. He passed it back with a nod and Maester Luwin poured the hot wax then sealed it with the direwolf sigil of House Stark.
“Do not clear away the wax. I may have further need of it this night,” Ned said. Maester Luwin gave him a curious look. “I intend to formally make Harry and Hermione my wards. But first I will ask them of how they came to be here.” The Maester said nothing for a few moments. This was always a sign to Ned that he had some thoughts on the matter. “You have doubts?”
“I am not convinced that they are ready to provide an explanation yet, my lord,” Maester Luwin said. “Their use of the Common Tongue has come a long way, I grant you, but this would be a very important discussion. I worry that something vital might be misinterpreted or confused should we ask them too soon.”
Ned considered his words. As their tutor, Maester Luwin would have the greatest understanding of Hermione and Harry’s ability to converse in the Common Tongue. Explaining how you could appear out of thing air was probably going to require the use of a more complex vocabulary.
“You are right,” Ned agreed, however frustrating it was. He had been waiting two moon’s turns for answers but he wasn’t going to be getting them tonight.
“Soon, my lord,” Maester Luwin reassured him. “Hermione in particular will be ready very soon.” Ned nodded, though it did not make him feel much better. “The fostering of Harry and Hermione is slightly unconventional due to both their age and their lack of a known house or family, but I see no reason to advise you against it, apart from our non-existent knowledge of their backgrounds.” He paused. “Do you still wish me to draw up the fostering deeds?”
“Yes,” Ned replied. He would much prefer to have a greater idea of the children’s past, but it did not change the feeling he had that he was meant to protect them. “Those pieces of wood we found on them can also be returned. I do not see the value in keeping them any longer.”
There was a knock at the door. Ned called for them to enter while Maester Luwin moved to complete his requests.
They did not look overly pleased to see him but Ned had expected that. After Catelyn’s suggestion that Hermione be married off, Ned found himself looking at the girl with a more critical eye. She was just old enough for marrying.
He had been led to believe that girls of that age spent a lot of time considering their marriage prospects. Was Hermione the same? Did she seek a husband? He’d seen or heard no evidence of such.
He realized that Hermione and harry were looking at him expectantly and he put his thought aside.
“I wish to talk to you of what happened this afternoon,” he said.
“What is there to say?” Hermione asked. In the glow of the lamp light she looked very pale and he could tell by the anger in her voice that she would not be quick to forget what she had seen.
“The world can be a very cruel place sometimes,” Ned began. “Harsh decisions need to be made to keep order and peace. Do you know where many men of the Night’s Watch come from, how they are recruited?”
“Bad men,” Hermione supplied.
“Criminals, yes: poachers, thieves, rapists, and violent men taken from the dungeons of Westeros at their own choosing instead of losing a body part or their life. These men are free to leave Castle Black during their training and receive their original punishment instead, or they will go on to make their vow to serve on the Wall. Life as a brother of the Night’s Watch is very bleak.” He recalled some of the few things his brother Benjen, First Ranger of the Night’s Watch, had divulged to him over the years and his eyes darkened. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if it has crossed the mind of every single one of those men to leave at some point, despite their vow. One of the few things stopping them would be the knowledge that if they did desert, then their life would be forfeit. As far as I’m aware, not a single deserter has managed to escape the King’s Justice.”
“But why kill? Why not… send back to Wall?” Hermione asked. “Men needed at Wall more. First escape make warning. Make mark on man to be sure.”
Harry nodded in agreement with his companion and Ned had to pause. She… made a good point.
Then he let out a low laugh. “Do you know how many men would leave the Wall if the worst that would happen was that they were merely sent back? If it was that easy to leave all those criminals would swoop down on the North putting the safety of the people in jeopardy. The Wall itself would not be defendable against the wildlings with so few numbers, putting our lives at further risk,” Ned argued. “I do not take killing lightly, but I will do what I must to protect my people and keep the King’s peace.”
“Was he a bad man?” Harry enquired after a lengthy pause. Ned assumed he was referring to whether the boy hand been a criminal or not.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “When you take the black your past is no longer important. All the brothers are treated the same for they make the same vow. This is the way it has been for thousands of years. I do not expect you to suddenly be accepting, but I want you both to understand.”
They exchanged solemn looks. “We do not like it, but it is your law,” Hermione said heavily. “Our law is not much better.” They shared another dark look and Ned was severely tempted to enquire further into their lives, but Maester Luwin announced that he had the parchment ready, cutting him off.
Ned nodded, while Harry and Hermione looked on curiously.
“It is my wish that you both become my wards,” he explained.
“Like Theon?” Hermione asked and Ned noted a tinge of wariness.
“Not exactly like Theon,” Ned replied with a shake of his head. “He became my ward as part of the terms of peace after his father’s ill-considered rebellion eight years ago. You would not be held under the same restrictions as he is, and you are free to leave Winterfell at any time of your choosing.”
This seemed to relax her a little.
“I simply mean to offer you both my protection,” he explained. “While you are here your well-being will be my responsibility and you will be looked on as though a part of my family.”
Hermione looked taken aback by his words and spoke quickly to Harry in their own tongue. He too became almost troubled by what was said. “This is a very kind offer, my lord,” Hermione said softly. “We do not… we are not worth of it. You have been too nice already.”
“Of course I will not insist you accept, though it would please me if you did,” Ned said warmly. “When I was a boy, I too was fostered. I was sent to the Eeyrie, in the Vale and was a ward of Jon Arryn along with Robert Baratheon—King Robert as he is now. Those were some of the happiest days of my life.” He thought back wistfully on how carefree he had been in those days, not knowing of the dark times that approached. “It will not be long before you reach the age of maturity, and you will have to decide on your futures. If you are known to have been a ward of mine, you may find that greater opportunities would be opened unto you.”
They seemed quite stunned by his words though Ned couldn’t be sure how much they had understood.
“Why do you do this for us?” Hermione asked eventually. She didn’t seem suspicious of his motives, just surprised.
“It is quite common for important Houses to foster children from other families, Hermione,” Maester Luwin explained.
“But we are not from important House,” she pointed out. “We are not… special.”
“Then why are you here?” Ned asked before he could stop himself.
Hermione gave Harry a nervous look, as Maester Luwin gave Ned one, too.
“We do not know how,” she said slowly, and he could truly see the confusion in her eyes. “We wake up, we are here.”
Ned held his breath. The gods. It was the work of the gods.
“And where were you before you woke up?” Maester Luwin asked, giving in to his curiosity too. “Where are you from?”
Hermione exchanged another anxious look with Harry, and he nodded. “We do not know,” she replied in a higher pitched voice than normal.
Ned felt his eyes widen in shock. “How can you not know?”
“Where we are from is not on Maester Luwin’s map,” she explained.
Maester Luwin stood quickly and retrieved the map showing the known world; the huge continents of Westeros, Essos and Sothoryos with their major cities, mountains, seas and rivers labelled. Bed peered down at the map incredulously.
“Are you sure?” Maester Luwin enquired. “You definitely know it is not featured somewhere on this map?”
Hermione gave a small, tight-lipped nod.
“And you think you’re not special,” Maester Luwin commented dryly, shaking his head in wonder.
“We not know how to tell you,” Hermione admitted. “It is very… odd.”
Odd. That was one way to describe two children being transported somewhere from the unknown world to the godswood in Winterfell. Ned should have known that getting some answers from Harry and Hermione would only lead to new mysteries to solve, more questions to puzzle over.
“We want to go home,” Harry said, speaking for the first time in a few minutes. “But we not know how.”
“It will be very difficult to find a way back if you don’t know exactly where home is,” master Luwin pointed out. “Almost impossible, really.”
“We will find a way,” Hermione declared, the strength returning to her voice. “If we were brought here, there should be a way to get back.”
“Ned doubted the possibility, though he couldn't’ claim to know the will of the gods. Perhaps they would want to move Harry and Hermione back some day. He shouldn’t be surprised really, that they came from somewhere unknown. Their language had been a complete mystery to Maester Luwin, and their clothing had been unusual. Harry even possessed that glass device over his eyes to improve his vision—something Ned had never come across before.
Ned knew that parts of the world were unknown to the people of Westeros and Essos. Indeed, the map that Maester Luwin possessed only showed the northern most part of Sothoryos. What lay south of that, to the east of Essos or to the west of Westeros was, well, unknown.
How Harry and Hermione hoped to navigate to a place with no destination he couldn’t fathom.
“I hope you find what you seek,” Ned said honestly. “But until you know where your path takes you, you are of course welcome at Winterfell and my offer of wardship still remains.”
They discussed the prospect again for a minute before Hermione said, “We are… honored, Lord Stark. Thank you for your kindness.”
The next few minutes involved clarifying the details of the fostering. Harry and Hermione protested profusely when Ned stipulated that they would each receive an allowance of a golden dragon each moon’s turn.
“It is too much!” Hermione said with wide eyes.
“If you intend to find a way home then it is likely that you will have need of gold in the future,” Ned explained. “I trust that you will spend or save wisely.”
“Let us do work to make it fair,” she insisted. “We cannot just take money.”
“Harry you will be expected to carry out the duties of a squire anyway,” Ned reminded them. “And I expect you will find other ways you can help, if you insist on earning your money.” He turned to Hermione. He considered telling her she must look to Catelyn for ways she could help in Winterfell, but he knew that neither Hermione nor his wife would respond well to that. “I’m sure that Maester Luwin would make great use of your talents, Hermione.”
“I most certainly would,” Maester Luwin agreed, making Hermione smile.
“And there is the unwritten duty that you bear to represent my name and my family with honor,” Ned said, as he’d promised Catelyn he would. “Your actions will now reflect those of the Starks of Winterfell. I know you both will not take this responsibility lightly.” They nodded solemnly together.
The seal of House Stark was used twice more to make the deeds official, and Ned felt himself relax slightly. Catelyn may not have wanted him to foster Harry and Hermione but to him this felt right.
Maester Luwin carefully placed the parchments to the side so that the wax would dry before handing Ned two sticks from within his sleeves. It took Ned a couple of seconds to realize why he had done so.
“Oh yes. We found these with you when you arrived,” Ned said. He looked up at Harry and Hermione and was surprised to see their eyes widened in amazement as they eyed the sticks in his hand. He held them out curiously, their hands trembling slightly as they took them from him.
“Thank you,” Harry said effusively, gripping the stick firmly in his hand before tucking it away in his clothing.
“They are very important to us,” Hermione explained as she also hid hers away. “They are… gifts from home.”
Ned nodded, feeling guilty for having kept the pieces of wood for so long when it was clear they meant a lot to the children.
They thanked him again for their sticks and making them his wards, before exiting the Maester’s solar.
“Well?” Ned asked, turning to Maester Luwin.
The maester sighed and rubbed his temples. “Quite honestly, my lord, I don’t know what to think.”
Ned chuckled lowly. He knew the feeling.