Dream Of Winter | C. Stark & H. Targaryen

Blade Of The Ripper

Ned POV

Edric Bolton, heir to the Dreadfort and ward of Winterfell often longed for a closer connection with his distant father, Lord Balthazar Bolton, a man known for his power and cunning.

He had an exemplary parent in Rickon Stark, he doesn't deny that. Cregan was his brother by choice.

But he also yearned for his father's approval and acknowledgment, craving the validation that seemed perpetually absent.

When he reached his sixteenth year, he was introduced to the history of House Bolton and its gruesome practices.

Ned couldn't help but question the morality of flaying as a means of punishment or espionage. He found himself torn between his desire to please his father and his innate sense of empathy, struggling to reconcile the two.

He told Cregan his secret a few moons after he debated with himself. The conflict between the Bolton and Stark houses weighed heavily on his shoulders. He was only fostered to try and breach that gap but now he reveals an incriminating truth that could start a war against his own family.

Ned wanted to honor his upbringing, the teachings of Rickon Stark, and the values of honor and justice he had instilled in him. Yet, he also felt the pull of his bloodline, the expectations of his house, and the desire to be accepted by his Bolton kin.

Cregan's reaction wasn't expected.

They were thick as thieves as children. They formed a strong bond rooted in shared experiences, training, and a mutual understanding of the responsibilities that came with their noble lineage. They fought side by side, trained together, and developed a deep respect for each other's skills and leadership qualities.

But his dark gift wasn't something he accepted. He became a humanity lacking blood hound over night. His father an outlaw and eligible to lose his head if caught in the act.

The Gods were cruel masters. To bring together the kings of Winter and the Red kings only to tear them asunder. Break their bond and plant a seed of resentment and betrayal more dangerous than comman animosity. Which is remarkable as his ancestors supposedly wore the skin of dead Starks. And were in turn ripped to shreds and fed to direwolves.

**

If Ned didn't grapple with his devotion to his foster family and blood relatives before, he sure did now. His back against the floor in the Glass gardens. The only sign of life in the frozen tundra. Of green and blooming in his beloved untamed homeland.

He was an adult by westerosi law. His father called him back to take his duties as heir seriously. Originally he had no intention of returning just yet. He never imagined spending the rest of his days away form Winterfell. For better or for worse it was his home.

The scolding of aunt Lyra, the loud laughter of uncle Uthred. The infectious joy of the twins. Even the stubbornness of Bran. Jeor and the rest of the household were fixtures in his life.

Not anymore.

With Cregan all but disowning him, his kin were all that remained.

He opened his eyes when he sensed a hulking form standing atop. Snow white fur and deep blue eyes.

"I'll miss you too Ragnar. Be sure to make Cregan's days a living hell when I'm gone. He deserves it." The majestic creature nodded in understanding and kneeled to rest by his side.

It was strangely comforting. He could still sense the remaining tether of Cregan. The steady magical presence should make him angry. Raving with rage.

Why isn't he mad. Promising blood revenge on the heart tree.

Ragnar's ears moved imperceptibly. And he had his answer.