An older man, dressed in Baratheon colors, spoke with a hesitant smile, "Welcome, Lord Stark. Grand Maester Pycelle has called a meeting of the Small Council. The honor of your presence is requested."

Nodding, Lord Stark murmured to Jory, "I'll be back in time for supper. And, Jory, keep your eyes and ears open. Stay alert."

The young man regarded his Lord with careful eyes and gave a measured nod, "Yes, my Lord."

The servant regarded the Northern Lord with judgmental eyes. The Northern man was still dressed in northern garb and looked worn. Renly Baratheon would not be happy about the Stark's appearance. "If you'd like to change into something more appropriate..."

Nodding yet again, Lord Stark quickly retreated to his room and changed into more stately wear. As he moved to prepare himself for the meeting, his mind flashed to the past days. His son had an attempt on his life from the son of his dear friend and king. Lord Stark had hinted to Robert that he needed to talk to him in private, but the monarch, sensing the strain of the unknown topic, distanced himself from his chosen Hand. What was worse was that Joffrey had many violent tantrums on the way back to King's Landing. One was so great, it led to the disfiguring of a butcher's boy. The screams of the boy were still fresh in Eddard's ears. He wondered if the incident was a foreshadowing of what was to come.

As Eddard exited his room and paced through the castle to reach the Small Council meeting, he passed through the throne room. What he saw caused him to pause. Jaime Lannister lounging on the Iron Throne, as if he owned it.

The head of the King's Guard quipped, "Thank the gods you're here, Stark. About time we had some stern northern leadership."

Knowing what he did, he mentally warned himself and retorted, "Glad to see you're protecting the throne."

"Sturdy old thing. How many kings' asses have polished it, I wonder? What's the line?" He rose to his his feet and with a boyish grin finished, "The King shits, and the Hand wipes."

"Very handsome armor. Not a scratch on it." Eddard motioned to the golden armor on the man before him. He would not take the bait of the insult. He had too much to accomplish before he'd deal with Jaime Lannister properly.

"I know. People have been swinging at me for years, but they always seem to miss." Jaime shrugged with a smirk, and his eyes flashed a challenge.

"You've chosen your opponents wisely then." Eddard knew better than to give into what the Lion wanted. Nevertheless, his righteous anger burned.

The blonde man continued, "I have a knack for it. It must be strange for you coming into this room. I was standing right here when it happened." His hand pointing to where the Northern man stood. "He was very brave, your brother. Your father too. They didn't deserve to die like that. Nobody deserves to die like that."

As his shoulders tensed, Eddard could not help point out, "But you just stood there and watched."

Clearly insulted by the older man's words, the Knight indignantly replied, "500 men just stood there and watched. All the great knights of the Seven Kingdoms. You think anyone said a word, lifted a finger? No, Lord Stark. 500 men and this room was silent as a crypt. Except for the screams, of course, and the Mad King laughing. And later... When I watched the Mad King die, I remembered him laughing as your father burned... It felt like justice."

His sense of honor burned at the man's words, "Is that what you tell yourself at night ? You're a servant of justice ? That you were avenging my father when you shoved your sword in Aerys Targaryen's back?"

"Tell me... If I'd stabbed the Mad King in the belly instead of the back, would you admire me more?"

Zipporah awoke with a startling jolt causing Robb to stir beside her. Her blue eyes assessed the room around them. The two animals and babe were still fast asleep, yet she could not shake the conversation between Lord Stark and Ser Jaime. The Lion was looking for a fight. Why? Why was he stirring the pot?

There had to be more. Laying back down and nestling into Robb's side for comfort, she closed her eyes and relaxed her senses. She needed to get as much information from the Small Council meeting as possible. The North must always be ready, and Winter was coming.

A very familiar man, from her previous visions, entered spoke with condescension, "But we have a Kingdom to look after. I've hoped to meet you for some time, Lord Stark. No doubt Lady Catelyn has mentioned me."

Her father in law's jaw ticked, but he replied, "She has, Lord Baelish. I understand you knew my brother Brandon as well."

"All too well. I still carry a token of his esteem from navel to collarbone."

Smirking, Lord Stark replied, "Perhaps you chose the wrong man to duel with."

"It wasn't the man that I chose, my Lord. It was Catelyn Tully. A woman worth fighting for, I'm sure you'll agree."

The Grand Maester, who was clearly acting older than he was, stated, "I humbly beg your pardon, my Lord Stark."

Eddard acknowledged, "Grand Maester."

"How many years has it been ? You were a young man."

"And you served another King." Eyebrows around the room raised in reaction to the snappy tone of the northerner.

Pulling back from the meeting, Zipporah sighed. The Dark Side had a leader, and he wasn't a Lannister. Lord Baelish. He was a lovesick old man who was trying to put House Stark in harm's way. Lord Stark had to be warned. Pushing herself into the force stream that ran through Westeros, her mind reached Lord Stark who was brooding in his room.

Lord Stark, Baelish conspired with an unknown person to kill Lord Arryn. She felt him nod in reply. He was a man of few words and his mood dark. Withdrawing carefully from the South, she moved back North with a listening ear. The men and women of Westeros were siding with the Starks.

Coming back to her senses,her eyes opened to her loves. His cold blues looked into hers, "You were off listening in, weren't you?" His voice deep with a hint of mire.

"Maybe. I may have figured the leader of the Dark Side of this realm. All because of unrequited love."

Robb shifted to pull her closer, his facial expression thoughtful. "Unrequited love?"

"Yes. A guy by the name of Baelish." She briefly pressed her lips to his.

"He was fostered with my mother," Robb murmured as his free hand played with her hair.

"Ah, well, he loved her, and now that he can't have her, he's got a plan to destroy everything and everyone that took her from him. Beginning with your Dad."

"We need to warn him." Robb stated through gritted teeth as he moved away to get ready for the day.

"I did. That's where I was a moment ago. Your Father is very angry. I'm worried about what he might do in his anger." She bit her lip in contemplation. The remaining Starks, in the North, must be ready. For anything.

Sensing her son's needs, she left Robb's side, grabbed Aiden from his cradle, and brought him back to their bed to feed. Robb's hardened gaze softened at the sight of his son. His legacy. A legacy that would grow into a strong one. The North is in him.

Robb found himself pouring over various accounts with Maester Luwin when he felt the sadness and then anger come from his wife. Sensing that she was coming to him, Robb continued to get as much done as possible. The news he was about to receive would change things.

As Maester Luwin was about to explain an account that was long overdue, the door was fiercely swung open to reveal a very pale Zipporah.

Robb looked up from his work and Maester Luwin paused. Noting her disheveled appearance, the Maester question, "Lady Stark, are you alright?"

Her eyes were wide, and Robb felt a shiver go down his spine. She looked haunted.

"The king is dead, and Lord Stark has been imprisoned by Prince Joffrey."

Robb's jaw dropped. The Maester fumbled over his words.

She ignored both and continued, "I can't tell how the King died. I only sensed his disappearance from the force. I could sense Lord Stark's pain, anger, and then desperation. I've tried to reach him, but there's too many people and too much emotion."
Her shoulders sagged in sadness, but her husband's face said it all. He was pissed.

"Zi, can you summon Jon, Theon, Han, and Sir Rodrick?"

"Theon?" Zipporah questioned with a hesitant look. How many times did she have to tell Robb that she sensed something off about the Kraken?

"We are going to need all the help we can get." He stated with a tone of finality. Knowing that this would not be the best time to challenge him, she closed her eyes and sent the message. Within minutes, the men flooded the room. Han made sure to stand by Zi. He didn't like where this was going. He had a bad feeling about it.

Theon was the last one the enter. His eyes met Zi's, and he immediately looked terrified.

"I'm sorry Theon. I should have warned you."

"What in Hades are you?" He sneered. She bit the inside of her cheek and immediately regretted using the force to make him forget her abilities. Mistakes had been made.

Before she could reply, Jon snapped, "She's blessed by the gods." Theon's mouth closed, and his lips formed a grim line.

"Now that I have you all here," Robb paused, struggling to contain his anger, "The king has died. Lord Stark has been imprisoned by Prince Joffrey."

The room was silent and then erupted at once with curses and scoffs.

"For what?!" Theon questioned loudly.

"That remains to be seen." Robb murmured with a hateful expression.

"Maester, Rodrick, call the banners, but do so quietly." Everyone froze. He was preparing for war. Both Jon and Zi wanted to try to reason him back from this command, but his demeanor appeared to be stubborn and unrelenting. Then he added with a look fixed at the duo, "I'm not going stand by idly and wait for that little shit to explain himself. "