The crypts of Winterfell. The place where the Stark kings of old and lords rested. They were entombed in stone with rusted swords on their lap, some had the Direwolf statue beside them. For some reason the oldest Stark was buried the deepest, he wondered what they would do when the crypts were filled fully.

The crypts had a pull on Torrhen, he felt safe and comfortable among the dead as he lay on the floor with his back to the wall and an old Stark statue beside him.

His mother was back to her old self, restrictions put on everything and making everything in life a chore. She had forbidden the Direwolves to be present when the King would arrive, wanting them to be locked up in the Kennels along with the other hounds. His siblings obeyed their mother and chained them in the Kennels.

They knew nothing of Direwolves. You don't chain an animal such as a Direwolf, they are the hunters of the wild, apex predators in the food cycle. They were meant to roam in huge forests hunting for prey in packs consisted of familiar direwolves.

So Torrhen didn't put Winter in the kennel instead he escaped from his parent's attention and went back to free them when he was in the clear. He took them to the crypts, they could stretch their legs as much as they wanted here.

The crypts were a huge place filled with statues from the bottom to the top. The Direwolves stirred in their sleep. They slept on the floor beside him and on top of his legs. Torrhen didn't want them waking up. They could be hard to control when they were in a pack. But Torrhen was somehow improving his ability to command them.

They all woke up when the voice became louder. Winter was on his feet in a moment.

"Stay," Torrhen said.

They all stood still, trying hard to obey him. But Winter, ever the curious soul, turned his head at Torrhen and ignored his command as he charged down the crypts, the rest following him.

Torrhen cursed and followed the Direwolves.

He found Winter on the heels of his father, trying to seek his attention. The other man with Father was no doubt the King. He had become much fatter than the last time he saw the King.

So Torrhen let the King know, "You have become fatter, Robert."

"Torrhen," Father said.

Robert was laughing with his face red.

"That I have boy," Robert said. "I was looking for you in the yard."

"I wanted to spare you your dignity when I wouldn't kneel before you in front of all the others."

"Torrhen kneel before his grace. Now." Father said.

"For god's sake, I do not want to hear you say grace again Ned. It's fine the boy and I have an understanding from when he met me at Kingslanding. He has an oath to keep and it concerns your honor. I was laughing when I heard it the first time as he refused to kneel before me. You should have seen Jon Arryn when he heard what your son had to say about that."

"Kingslanding? Did you go to Kingslanding? What of this oath?" Father said

Robert laughed as Torrhen said

"I made an oath, Father, to the old gods in the Godswood on your honor that I would never kneel before any person in submission before I ran away."

"Why did you make such an oath, Torrhen," Father sighed. "You must one day kneel before your Rightful Liege Lord if you mean to give him no cause to anger."

Torrhen looked at his father as he said the truth that he hadn't told anyone, "Because I hated Robb with every breath. I didn't want to bend the knee to my brother. It was not fair you see. I was born just a few seconds later than him and for that, he would inherit your title and Winterfell."

"Torrhen, You should have told me what you felt towards Robb," Father said. "Is that why you ran away?"

"Oh, it's fine father. That was a long time ago, I have grown a lot since I was a child. I don't care about that anymore. My eyes have been opened to the real world. I have come to fear ever getting that responsibility because I can't do what a lord must do. Instead, I want to travel the world and have women to love instead of getting married just for my House."

"The kid has the right to it, Ned," Robert said. "Half the days I wonder why I won this damn throne."

"Set that matter aside, Father," Torrhen said. "What is this I heard about an offer of Hand and marriage proposal."

"I told your Father to be my Hand and a match between your sister and my son, Joffery."

"You asked the wrong person about the marriage."

"Then whom should I ask then." The King said amused.

Torrhen smiled and said, "Me of course. It won't be of much use asking for my Father's permission, If I don't sign off on it. Especially my own sister's marriage. I must consider whether your son is worthy of my sister's hand."

"He is the crown prince," Robert said, challenging him. "The one who will inherit the seven kingdoms after me."

"That doesn't mean that I trust him yet. Trust develops slowly over time and after I get a measure of him then you can announce the betrothal. Until then it will be better if you don't announce it because it would look awkward if the marriage won't take place."

"Well then I will go now and let you both to pay your respects, if that is all." Torrhen said as he walked out, the Direwolves following on his heels.

***

The feast was in full swing when he entered the hall. The crowd was laughing when Jon lurched sideways into the serving girl knocking the flagon of spiced wine to the ground. Torrhen tried to steady him but Jon wrenched free of his grip and ran out of the hall. Ghost followed him out after he stopped to greet his brothers and sisters who had entered with Torrhen.

Torrhen picked up the flagon and gave it to the serving girl, "Have some meat bought for the Direwolves, they are hungry and I would like to feed them before they have the thought to have us for dinner."

The wolves were not big enough yet to kill a man by themselves. But it would mean a great deal in how they behaved in the future if they behaved properly now.

Torrhen ignored the stare, that could scare a Direwolf down, from his mother from the high table. He didn't like how quickly things changed the way they were. His parents back to always complaining about his duties and how he should behave.

Torrhen nodded his head to the high table then moved to take Jon's seat among the pack. He didn't want to go sober that night, he had a thirst to quench and a headache to quell. The headaches were becoming more common now, only subsiding when he was with the Direwolves or resting.

"Uncle Ben, a word please," Torrhen asked his uncle who served in the nightswatch.

They exchanged pleasantries and asked about the situation at the wall.

"Uncle what is this I am hearing about the king beyond the wall. Mance Rayder, I thought he was with the Night's watch."

"He was before he turned cloak to the wildlings. He is gathering the tribes to launch an attack on the wall. That is why I am here on behalf of the night's watch to ask the King for assistance on that matter."

The Direwolves devoured the huge pieces of meat, the serving girl bought.

"What was that with Jon?"

"He wants to join the Night's watch."

Torrhen laughed, "Why would he want that? No offense to you uncle I would sooner have my brother beside me than serve beside criminals."

"The Night's Watch is not what it was, I agree," Benjen said. "But it might be a place where even a bastard could rise to a prominent position."

"Don't worry about him, uncle," Torrhen said. "He is having one of his moods, I won't let him go, Black before he enjoys all the fruits that life can offer."

"Well, I have to go and ask the King on behalf of the Night's watch." Benjen went to the high table.

Torrhen cheered along with the rest of the table as the Bard sang a new song. For some reason, the men at the table were looking oddly at him, no doubt Owen had started telling of Torrhen's adventures.

Torrhen eyed the Bard closely as he finished his song. For some reason, the Bard looked familiar to him.

"I asked you guys to look after Jon," Torrhen said.

"The boy had too much wine," Jax said. "I didn't want to dampen his happiness. It's not every day that a child gets to drink as much as he wants."

The rest of the Pack was talking with each other and the guests.

Owen telling a story about Torrhen to the others on the table, even some from another table were listening in. So that was the reason for the strange looks.

Torrhen pulled Jax close to him. "I want you to keep an eye on that Bard."

"Why is there something amiss?" Jax said

"Yes," Torrhen said. "I feel like there is something familiar about him but I can't figure out what it is."

The wolves were gnawing on the bones by the time the feast was over.

The next chapter: Torrhen kidnaps the Bard at night after he finds the Bard lurking about the castle and has him imprisoned in the crypts. Can he figure out who the Bard is and what he wants?

Maester Luwin was seen going to his parents chamber at the middle of the night so Torrhen decides to have the talk with the Maester after all this time and try to figure out what his parents are trying to hide.

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Chapter 4 [Sorry guys i forgot to upload fourth chapter so edited it into third chapter]

“Is it okay to use the crypts for this purpose,” Alys said. The crypts scared her. She was uncomfortable being around the dead, Torrhen knew, especially when the moon was high in the dark sky.

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“It’s fine,” Torrhen said. “The dead don’t mind it.”

“How can you know that?” Alys asked her eyes narrowing at him.

“Because they told me,” Torrhen said.

“Ha ha ha. Not funny,” Alys said laughing mockingly.

“They told me,” Torrhen said. “There that one.” Torrhen pointed at the Statue of a Brandon Stark, though he didn’t know which Brandon he was.

Alys turned and watched the statue with skepticism. She went closer to the statue looking into his eyes, whispering something under her breath.

Torrhen approached behind her silently and shouted.

Alys yelped and beat him on his chest.

“Don’t scare me like that,” Alys said breathing fastly.

“Oh come on,” Torrhen said. “You deserved that. Why would the dead talk to us they are dead after all. Come on let’s go, our Bard would be awake by now.”

Torrhen and Alys went deeper into the crypts, ignoring the strange pull that Torrhen had whenever he was in the crypts. The light flickered as the wind flowed through the space. Torrhen had Jax follow the Bard around since the feast started hoping that it was nothing, just that his instinct was misplaced, but it turned out that the Bard was lurking around the castle for some reason.

Jax had Cleyton with him so when they caught him doing something they kidnapped him and bought him under the crypts on Torrhen’s orders.

They reached a well-lit place by one of the statues. Cleyton, Jax, and the rest of the pack were already present. Rose and Eric were asleep, Torrhen didn’t see a reason to wake them up. They were part of the pack now, but Torrhen wanted them to take it easy for the first couple of months. The pack would train in private in the Wolfswood from dawn till evening every three days a week, learning how to fight among other things. These trainings were what made Torrhen and the others so efficient in fighting.

Especially Cleyton’s skills were the most helpful. His skills with the sword and the lance were what Torrhen learned from. The man had fought in the Grey Joy Rebellion as one of the many Hedge Knights hired by the Lannisters. The man was a born fighter and a damn good teacher.

So it was a surprise when he found Cleyton bleeding.

“What happened Cleyton?” Torrhen asked.

Will, the Iron Islander, was applying the bandage to his arm and chest. He didn’t tend to speak much. He had taken an oath of silence to atone for what he did when he was with the reaping party from the Iron Islands. He had taken the oath when Torrhen freed him from execution, Torrhen asked him to swear on whatever he believed that he would live his life to do good by others.

“The bastard got the drop on me,” Cleyton said. “He saw us coming up on him and surprised us when he ambushed us. He had a dagger with him and was good with it too. He almost killed me as I tried to subdue him.”

“If it were not for Cleyton,” Jax said. “I would have been dead. He took the dagger meant for me, Bastard is not just a Bard though he has a good voice for it.”

“Is he awake?” Torrhen said.

“Yes,” Jax said. “He must be recovered from Cleyton’s blow by now.”

“I’ll go get him.” Owen Whitebeard said. The man was for some reason sad, Torrhen had thought that he would be happy to be in Winterfell.

Torrhen took a seat down on the ground crossing his legs. Winter put his head on Torrhen’s lap. The wolf was too needy, always staying close to him, never leaving him alone even for a moment. Torrhen had to distract the troublemaker to go anywhere without him. And when he figured out that Torrhen was not there, he would use his ability to use his scent to hunt him down. He would then pounce upon him regardless of where Torrhen was.

Once Torrhen almost fell over the Castle’s battlements when Winter pounced on him. A few more months and Torrhen wouldn’t be able to even lift him. He was growing at an alarming rate. Maester Luwin said that they could grow to the size of ponies. But Torrhen knew that they could grow bigger in the right conditions. Winter seems to be following these conditions more than his siblings. He was a bit bigger than them.

Though at the start Winter was the weakest and most malnourished among his siblings. Mother said he used to be like that too when he was a child. Mother used to pray to the Seven so that he would get better from his ailments. Torrhen was a sickly child when he was a babe, so much so that Mother didn’t believe that he could survive past the second year.

The Bard sat down opposite to Torrhen in the middle of the path, the rest of the Pack sat behind the prisoner. Save for Jax, who stood close by to the Bard with his dagger in his hand ready to stab it in his neck if he tried anything.

“Let’s play a game,” Torrhen said, not letting the bard speak. “I used to play this when I was young. It goes like this, one of us will tell something and the other must figure out whether it was a lie or not. We don’t have all night so I will ask you questions. If you wish to lie to me you must do it without letting me figure it out. Three times you will get the chance to lie, more than a third and it will be the last you will ever speak in your life. I will speak about myself. If you figure out what I said was a lie or not three times correctly I will let you leave unharmed. Do you understand the rules?”

The bard nodded. He looked calm, most of the people would be beside themselves with worry.

“I must warn you,” Torrhen said. “Do not take this lightly, I can tell the lies from the truth as easily as a person breaths the air.”

“Start,” the Bard said amused to be challenged by a fifteen year old no doubt.

“My name is Torrhen Stark. I once killed a bear with a dagger when I was eleven,” Torrhen said. “A lie or the truth?”

“A lie,” the Bard said smiling. “The part with the bear. You almost convinced me with the way you told it.”

“The truth,” Torrhen said smiling back.

Owen grimaced, “I remember that. She gave me the scar on my chest. The bastard came out of nowhere attacking us. Torrhen jumped on his back and started stabbing him from behind when she turned towards me. I fought it off with my sword from the front barely. The event scared me half to death, with how you jumped on it.”

“That seals the deal Torrhen,” Jax said. “Now that I have heard enough about you, I officially declare you to be mad. Though I wonder whether you were born mad, or you tend to be one when the situation presents itself.”

The Pack smiled. Torrhen ignored Jax and said, “What is your name, Bard, and why did you come to Winterfell?”

“My name is Samuel of Oldstones,” the Bard said with the accent of the south, he hesitated a bit before he started again. “I joined the King’s party as they crossed my path in the south near the Crossroads Inn. I was hoping to make a good coin, singing. But I am not getting paid well, so I thought to steal… that is why… you found me lurking. That is it. I am a Bard and occasionally a thief when the going gets tough.”

“You are good.” Torrhen smiled. “You could have fooled even the wisest person. But not me, it takes more than that to fool me.”

“You are bluffing,” The Bard said, not letting his confidence go. He was almost convincing to Torrhen. “You don’t know the truth, boy.”

“Your accent betrays you,” Torrhen said. “I can hear a slither of that accent when you speak. You lived in the North your whole life. It is hard to erase one’s voice when you have spoken it all your life. I say none of it was the truth.”

“Do you wish to deny it?” Torrhen asked. “You will lose the second chance too.”

“Go on,” The Bard said. “Your turn.”

“When I was a child,” Torrhen said. “I killed people knowing that they were innocent. Once I came close enough to killing a child too. A lie or the truth?”

The Bard took his time answering, he opened his mouth to say a lie when he changed his mind and said, “The truth?”

The Pack smiled at another easy win.

Torrhen looked down at Winter and rubbed his head. “The truth.”

The Pack lost their smile.

“This was not the first time you visited Winterfell,” Torrhen said. He looked at the Bard. “You came to Winterfell before, didn’t you?”

“No,” the Bard said speaking carefully. “This was the first time I visited Winterfell.”

“A lie,” Torrhen said. “Your second lie. Look behind you, the person standing behind you is Jax. You have only one more chance to lie. After that, if you speak a lie Jax will slit your throat. So you have visited Winterfell in the past.”

The Bard stayed silent, he was sweating now.

“Once I thought to kill my brother Robb when I was a child,” Torrhen said. “Because I didn’t want to kneel to him. A lie or the truth?”

“A lie,” the Bard said. “You love your brother.”

“The truth,” Torrhen sighed. “I love him but I would rather die than kneel to someone.”

The Bard smiled at that, Torrhen noticed. He figured out who the man was.

“Once when I was a child,” Torrhen said. “I played a game with Robb and Jon, my brothers. The game involved throwing snowballs at the people passing below the gatehouse.”

The Pack was confused by what Torrhen was saying. But the Bard looked to be in discomfort, knowing what Torrhen was gonna ask next.

“A black brother of the Night’s Watch,” said Torrhen, “visited Winterfell with his Lord Commander for an audience with my father. He caught us in our game, I asked him his name before I ran.”

Cleyton rose and unsheathed his sword. The Bard looked around seeing a way to escape. Winter raised his head from Torrhen’s lap, growling at the Bard.

“The name he said was,” Torrhen said, “Mance Rayder.”

The Pack rose abruptly. They had heard the rumors as well of a King beyond the Wall, gathering tribes to unite against the wall.

“Are you Mance Rayder?” Torrhen said. “The King Beyond the Wall.”

The next chapter: Is the Bard, the King beyond the Wall? The man named Mance Rayder? When the Bard tells the truth it will shake everything Torrhen believed in. He would have gone back to his adventures but how could he leave his family when such a threat exists beyond the wall?

And when he questions Maester Luwin about visiting his parents at midnight, he fears that a conflict in the south is inevitable.

What will he do? Will he go North to remove the threat beyond the wall or go south to deal with the threat the Lion poses on his family when his Father accepts the offer of Hand?

Read more to find out.