WARS TO COME, game of thrones

𝐈. heads

𝟐𝟖𝟐 𝐀𝐂

It was late in the year and the eyrie was silent, as if all life in Anrir's home had suddenly been extinguished. It wouldn't be the first time. They - today it was his father, Robert and Ned - stood around the table in Anrir's father's study. His father was sitting, slumped wearily, Anrir standing diagonally behind him. Rob was leaning against the wall, his bright blue eyes sparkling fiery and angry. A fire that would soon infect everything. But Anrir's gaze was on Ned, who stood leaning against the windowsill, his back to them. Only the rapid rise and fall of his back showed that he was still alive.

"Ned....," Anrir whispered, unable to bear the silence and wanted to go towards him, but his father held him back by the wrist. Lyanna had been kidnapped a week ago and Bran and Ned's father had ridden to King's Landing - although they were actually on their way to Riverrun, where Bran was to marry Catelyn Tully - with the plan to confront Rhaegar. King Aerys had had them and all their companions executed. That morning, Ned had simply been Ned. Now Eddard was Lord of Winterfell and the mad king wanted his and Rob's heads.

"I will not hand you over, I hope you know that," his father finally spoke up calmly, breaking the silence, "I will raise my banners in revolt. The eyrie and the Vale stand behind you; no matter what you do now." "Thank you, Jon," Robert said, looking at Ned with a biding eye. "I need to get to Winterfell and call the people to the banners," Eddard finally said, turning to them, "If we're going to go against Aerys, we'll need more than just the people from the Stormlands and the Vale." "Then you must get to White Harbour as quickly as possible. Same for you, Robert. Not everyone will join my call, possibly taking the harbor soon. We don't have much time left." Eddard and Robert nodded and Anrir really began to understand what was happening. A rebellion.

Ned and Rob got ready for the journey, in armor and with their weapons strapped to their belts, they walked through the eyrie. Anrir was with his father, planning the mobilization of his people. "Anrir," his father addressed him again after a while, "Elbert is dead. You will be my heir until things calm down. If I fall in battle, you will be Lord of the eyrie and warden of the east.." His father turned to the others present, "You are my witnesses." The men nodded and Anrir looked at his father with wide eyes, but then he straightened his shoulders and bowed his head, "You can count on me, father." His father smiled slightly, but then straightened up.

"Get Beast, get ready to accompany Eddard. I'll be at Robert's side," his father instructed him and Anrir nodded, ran off to get his traveling armor ready. Leather and metal, with the markings of House Arryn. Anrir also put on his real father's pitch-black cloak. It seemed to fit like a glove, hugging his back softly but heavily. It was strange to wear the Riverfall cloak and beast together with his Arryn clothes. Like he was a patchwork quilt. He tied his hair back, detached himself from his reflection and walked into the Great Hall.

Robert and Eddard were already waiting, Robert in his Baratheon armor, while Ned, like Anrir, wore only leather with metal fittings. "Gulltown has been taken," Robert explained and Anrir frowned. "Then you two can't get to your homes," Anrir stated and looked at Ned. He was even quieter than ever. "You have to cross the Mountains of the Moon to the Fingers, Ned. Then you can travel to White Harbour and Winterfell." "Then you should leave soon," his father said, coming towards them. Eddard nodded, remaining silent during the descent from the eyrie and saddling his horse in silence. They rode off in pairs, in silence. Anrir thought back to how they had secretly ridden to Riverfall five years ago. They were still children then. And now?

"Eddard?" Anrir asked him after a while of riding in the same silence, that accompanied them since leaving the eyrie. Even for Ned, this was unusual. Eddard didn't answer, but his horse trotted slowly and aimlessly. Anrir couldn't see Ned's face; his dark hair had fallen in his face. But Ned's shoulders shook and so Anrir brought his horse to a halt, gently held Eddard's horse up by the reins, stretched and stroked Ned's hair out of his face. "Oh Love..." Anrir whispered when he saw that his friend's face was streaked with tears and he pressed his lips together to keep from sobbing.

"Come here," Anrir whispered and helped him off the horse; Eddard immediately sank into his arms and leaned against him. Anrir felt the wetness of his tears and struggled to keep Ned up. "I can't be Lord of Winterfell... I just can't, An..." Eddard whispered through his tears, "I want my father and Bran back..." "I know... But you're a good man, strong and loyal and full of honor - you'll do fine. You may not have chosen it, but you'll do it well..." "Not as well as Father... Not as good as Brandon," Ned whispered and pressed closer to Anrir, who put his hand on the back of his neck and stroked Ned's hair. "Good in your own way! You're different from them, but that's not a bad thing, I love you for it - for the way you are. You're calm and gentle, full of love... You will be a different Lord Stark than your father was. But that doesn't mean you're worse at it. You're not bad."

Anrir had taken Ned's face in his hands and was looking at him urgently, gently brushing the tears from his cheeks with his thumbs. "Look at me, Eddard. I know you're grieving. But don't lose sight of yourself. You'll get through this if you just be yourself. I would follow you anywhere and so would Rob. You are a born leader and the people of the North will follow you without hesitation. You are Lord of Winterfell now, but you are not alone. You are my family and as long as I am alive, you will never be alone. I swear it!"

Ned looked at him with teary eyes, but then leaned his forehead against Anrir's and put one hand on the back of his neck so that they were very close together. "I love you," Ned whispered and Anrir had to smile slightly. "I love you too, you know that," he mumbled back and then leaned forward so that they sank into an intimate kiss. "I... just don't say it often enough," Ned whispered and Anrir grinned wanly. "It doesn't matter, I always love you, no matter what. I'll always love you," he stroked Ned's stubbly cheek gently.

Ned leaned against Anrir, his head against the crook of his neck. The wind tugged at them, but they were pressed close together and Anrir's heavy cloak gave him even more warmth. They sat there longer than they could really afford, but not long enough for Eddard's face to lighten. And Anrir found it even harder to get away from him. Nevertheless, they were soon back on their horses, with the wind at their backs on their way north.