Impatient

Winterfell

He scribbled furiously, how dare that Martell did not respond to him? It had been three moons already. He was currently writing up plans to send out to the parties that would be joining him, marching on the King was no task to be taken lightly. He had already written to the Vale, who accepted Catelyn's sisters' hand as a form of alliance, thanks to Hoster Tully. Brandon had written to him with concern of the Vale being too ... flexible, they could change their loyalty at any given time – even if Ned was almost a brother to Jon Arryn.

He swore as the pen broke from his tight grip and pulled another one out. Bolton. His next letter was to be sent to the Bolton's. As he wrote he could not help but remember fighting with Roose at a feast his father was holding for Lyanna's name day. Brandon let out a chuckle, he had punched the boy in the face for looking at Arianne "as one would look at a whore." He could not believe how protective he had been of her; he knew her killing of his father was one done out of mercy – but Brandon could not forgive her silence. In theory, there was not much to be done, but her silence was deafening, and it made him think if she had loved Rickard as a daughter would a father. Rickard had given her the upbringing of a Lady and more – perhaps he had done that knowing she was a King's bastard. Still, bastards were never afforded the luxury, at most she should have been kept at an orphanage in Watertown – if Rickard truly meant to hide her.

Brandon also remembered his father slapping the shit out of him when he had refused to marry Catelyn and suggested he loved Arianne, more than a brother should a sister. He wondered what the punishment would have been had he eloped with her.

What!? He shook his head, clearly, the stress was getting to him. He was starting this war for many reasons – his father's murder, the dirt the Stark name had been dragged through by the Targaryen's, the fact that Rhaegar got to marry his sister and Brandon was punished for the thought of it. Right. He thought to himself, I've had too much ale. I've been looking at this paper for too long.

"Brandon."

He lifted his head, it was Catelyn. She held little Rickon in her hands and bounced him as she spoke to her husband, next to her was stood Ned. Her intrusion had caused him to press too hard, ruining the paper with a large clump of black ink above the neatly written for. Again.

"Yes?" Brandon responded, looking at the two, leaning back in his chair.

"Rhaegar has returned to Kingslanding, no doubt having heard we are to march. Robert writes that Lyanna had gone to Dragonstone and Rhaegar himself called him to Dragonstone to take her home – with a babe ... Jon Baratheon, heir to the Stormlands," Ned said, pulling a letter from his pocket and stepping up to the table Brandon was seated on and placing it in front of him.

Brandon skimmed over it;

Ned,

Lyanna ... with me again in Storms End ... babe Jon is going to be a warrior ... bannermen ... the Prince and Princess know ... Princess hinted no war was best-

Brandon scoffed and muttered, "she's always been the diplomat." Catelyn gave him a puzzled look; she hadn't read the letter herself and was wondering who he could have been referring to. He hoped Rhaegar wasn't using Arianne's political vigour to his advantage - she was not one to be underestimated when it came to speaking with people. He continued on;

My cousin is well, he even showed me a sword he had fashioned for his firstborn.

He looked to his brother, "he had his first-born cut from the line of succession, why is he commissioning a sword for him?" Brandon could not imagine the Arianne he remembered allowing herself to be slighted in such a way. Perhaps it was because of their distance, or because there was word Brandon was to march on the King, but no one had informed him the Princess had given birth to twins.

"Read on," Ned said, pressing his lips into a thin line. Brandon had already forgotten, the first sign Ned needed to know that he wasn't with his wits.

I cannot believe that sly fucker got away with taking a second wife and here I am begging for Lyanna's forgiveness ... your sister ... he has two new heirs no doubt to marry each other when the time comes. If the time comes ... I hear Brandon is marching ... you know the Stormlands are with you ... the twin babes I did not see ... Lyanna did ... she mentioned they had hair as white as snow and eyes purple ... one boy ... one girl ... Valerion and Visenya ... the girl is eldest and she is a vicious thing ... bit Jon ... anyway-

Brandon stopped reading, throwing the letter down onto the desk in a huff. "I forgot about that."

Ned "they are to be your enemy, you can't afford to forget." Brandon clicked his tongue in response. "You have missed your chance, Brandon. With Rhaegar back in Kingslanding, the Southerner's apart from the Riverland's, the Vale and Stormlands will be with him. You know they call him the-."

"I know they kiss his arse," Brandon roared, standing from his seat in a rush. Catelyn stepped back in fright, holding onto the now crying Rickon – she gave him a disapproving look. "Sorry Cat."

"You have to call off the march."

"I will do no such thing. Those people killed our father if you are forgetting. They took who we thought was our sister without even consulting her eldest – who was there to be consulted. They have disrespected the name Stark for too long, do you think I will roll over and pant as I wait for their next wrongdoing?" Brandon asked Ned, making sure to keep his voice lowered as not to scare his son again.

"Yes, I was there with you, but we will lose Brandon."

"Who is guaranteed to be at their side? They will fight for the King, not Rhaegar."

"They will fight for Rhaegar," Ned repeated, unsure why his brother wasn't accepting their premature defeat.

He thought for a moment, "Rhaegar dies, they will not fight for the King. There is no chance of it. There are only a few royalists, the Reach, the Crownlands and Dorne. Prince Oberyn has not responded to me so I take it he will stay with the same people who threw his sister aside."

"And what happens if you win?" Catelyn piped up.

"The North becomes independent, as it always should have been. They can fight over that damned Throne for all I care," Brandon shrugged back, sitting back down on his seat.

Ned, already knowing it was a terrible idea, tutted. "You will not listen to me, so maybe you will listen to your lords."

"My lords have already agreed to march by next full moon, you can come, or you can stay here and act as if you are smarter than the rest of us," Brandon said, looking Ned up and down in a disapproving manner.

Ned pointed to himself, "I am smarter. The Reach alone would crush us in their sleep. What you're doing is suicide, we need to stay here. Rhaegar will take the Throne sooner or later and then you can discuss what happened to father rather than killing innocent and valuable Northern soldiers – all because you are angry."

"They will not crush us if their next prospect is to have a King until the next heir is grown. Rhaegar is already too scared to take the Throne from his father - even with the support he has! Once he is killed, it will fall from under them. Then ask me who is with who," he stopped to take a breath. "Rhaegar will never give the North independence, he will be strongest if he ever takes the crown. And then what? Do we wait until our children to grow until his own madness takes him? Until another rebellion weakens them? No. He dies, they will all run to the side that guarantee's the death of the Mad King."

"How do you propose to kill a heavily guarded Prince, a Prince that would not go into open battle unless absolutely necessary?" Ned asked him.

Brandon shrugged his shoulders, "make it absolutely necessary for him to come to us."

"How!?"

"Kidnap his children, pull him from his silk bedsheets for all I care. We will get it done," Brandon countered.

Ned looked to the floor, thinking for a moment. "You do as you please, I will come with you because you are my brother but only for that reason. I still disagree." He turned around and left the room in a rush.

"Ned! Don't walk away from me Ned!"

Catelyn sighed, walking to stand next to Brandon; once she was close enough, she sat Rickon on his lap. "I am angry as you are. Avenge your father Brandon and bring me the head of your greatest enemy."

Brandon smiled softly, taking her hand and kissing it gently. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

...