Eddard Stark's face darkened with fury as he listened to everything his wife told him. He hadn't imagined that even with their child hovering so close to death, someone would still try to assassinate him.
Then, overwhelmed by grief, he gently took Catelyn's hand and looked at the bandages wrapped around her palm. The sight filled him with pain for the suffering she'd endured—and a deep guilt for failing to protect her and their children. He hadn't even noticed when Petyr Baelish had entered the room.
Looking at his wife with remorse, Eddard said, "I'm sorry, Catelyn. I failed to protect you and the children."
"I'm all right. I haven't felt any pain for a while now, and I should be fully healed soon," Catelyn reassured her guilt-ridden husband. "What matters most now is getting justice for Bran. We have to make sure those vile people are punished. We should tell the king and have all the Lannisters who broke guest rights arrested."
Eddard didn't immediately agree. Though he was just as concerned about Bran, he kept a cool head. After quelling the anger rising within him and thinking things through, he asked, "Have you considered why Tyrion Lannister would want to kill Bran? There's no grudge between them."
"The Imp might not have anything against Bran, but House Lannister does—because Bran caught Queen Cersei having an affair." Catelyn's words were startling, and she continued, visibly agitated, "I've already asked the people in the castle about the royal entourage back then. Some maids and servants mentioned seeing Queen Cersei and the Kingslayer, Jaime, sneaking into the Broken Tower. Bran just happened to be climbing that tower at the time. Afterwards, those same maids and servants saw the Queen and Jaime coming out with their clothes in disarray. I'm certain they were having an affair, and Bran stumbled upon it. That's why they had the Imp, Tyrion, help silence him."
"An affair between the Queen and the Kingslayer?" Eddard was stunned. Catelyn's words struck him like lightning, linking together all the scattered clues he'd gathered in King's Landing while investigating Jon Arryn's death. His expression turned to one of shock.
Catelyn didn't notice her husband's reaction and continued, "Do you remember? When Bran fell, nearly everyone was at the training yard—everyone except the Imp. He didn't show up until later and claimed he overslept. But I've already questioned the prostitute who attended him that day. She said he left the brothel early. No one knows where he went between then and when he arrived at the training yard. And that just so happens to be when Bran's accident occurred."
Eddard was starting to believe her. Her investigation matched his own findings almost too perfectly. But still, something about it felt wrong—too neat, too well-aligned. It felt like a carefully staged performance, every detail fitting together seamlessly.
Seeing that Eddard wasn't reacting the way she'd hoped, still caught in thought, Catelyn grew frustrated.
"What are you hesitating for? Has the Lannisters' power in King's Landing already scared you into silence?"
Eddard tried to calm her. "Catelyn, please. Don't let your concern for Bran cloud your judgment. Just take a breath—there's something off about all of this."
"Something off?" Catelyn couldn't help but raise her voice. "Are you still the Eddard Stark I know? Your wife and child were attacked, and when we have clear evidence, you talk about something feeling off? You've changed completely since coming to King's Landing!"
Eddard spoke softly to calm her. "Catelyn, I haven't changed. I care about Bran just as much as you do. But this isn't a simple matter. If we handle it poorly, it could plunge the entire realm into war. I need solid, irrefutable evidence before making any accusation. We can't indict the Wardens of the West based solely on testimony from our servants and maids."
Catelyn quickly pulled out the Valyrian steel dagger. "The dagger. This is our best evidence!"
Eddard shook his head. "No. This dagger can't be used as evidence—on the contrary, it could be seen as proof that we're framing House Lannister."
"How could that be?" Catelyn was stunned.
"It's entirely possible," Petyr Baelish suddenly chimed in. "Catelyn, if you calm down and think it through, you'll see the problem. The fee for an assassin is just a few dozen silver stags, yet this one carried a dagger of immense value—one that clearly points to its owner. It makes no sense. If the assassin were motivated by money, he could've skipped the killing entirely and simply taken the dagger across the Narrow Sea. Selling it would've made him rich for life. And to kill Bran, any ordinary dagger would've done—why use one so traceable? Anyone who hears this would think it's a setup to frame the Imp."
"How could this be?" Catelyn was dumbfounded by Petyr's analysis, and though Eddard disliked him, he still nodded in agreement.
"But that's exactly why it was the Lannisters behind the attempt," Petyr continued, shifting his tone as if guiding their thoughts. "The Imp is clever—he would've foreseen the issue of the dagger revealing his identity. He'd definitely question its use and claim he lost it while at Winterfell, putting the blame on House Stark for trying to frame him. Or he might deny the dagger is his at all, saying he never showed it to anyone. Our wager over it was private—no third party knows about it. That way, House Lannister escapes suspicion entirely."
"Yes, that must be it," Catelyn said, nodding.
Eddard didn't reply immediately. He took the dagger and studied it closely, a look of deep thought settling on his face. After a long moment, he turned to Catelyn.
"King's Landing is far too dangerous. You need to return to Winterfell at once. Robb, Bran, and Rickon all need you. Winterfell also needs someone in charge."
"What about Bran?" Catelyn asked anxiously.
"I'll handle it," Eddard said firmly. "No one harms my child and walks away unpunished."
He gave her a few more instructions before hurrying off.
Even with Eddard's promise, Catelyn couldn't help feeling disappointed. In her mind, he should've acted immediately—sending men to seize the Lannisters responsible. Instead, he remained so calm.
Petyr suddenly spoke again. "Catelyn, you should try to understand. Sitting in his position, sometimes a man has to make choices that go against his heart."
"What do you mean?" Catelyn turned and asked in a low voice.
Littlefinger sighed. "Right now, he's the Hand of the King, not just the Lord of Winterfell. Every decision he makes could affect the entire realm. Sometimes, he has to compromise—even swallow his pride."
"You mean Ned would…" Catelyn caught the meaning in his words and quickly shook her head. "No. He would never. Family means everything to him. He will get justice for Bran."
"Maybe I'm overthinking it," Petyr said lightly. "I don't know your husband that well, after all."
Still, his words had planted a seed of doubt. As much as Catelyn trusted her husband, she couldn't shake the thought that he might compromise—just as Littlefinger said.
The thought stirred a restless fury in her. She had the sudden urge to run out, find those Lannisters, and tear them apart—avenge Bran on the spot.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. One of Petyr's men hurried in and whispered something into his ear. Catelyn caught only fragments—"Lannister," and "coming over."
"Cat, you can't stay here anymore—you need to leave right away," Littlefinger said, his tone grave. "I just got word—Jaime Lannister is heading this way with the Gold Cloaks. Your location's been exposed. He's coming to capture you to force Lord Eddard into hesitation."
Before Cat could make sense of it, Littlefinger had already grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the room. They crossed the courtyard, slipped out through a side door by the kitchen, and hurried down a narrow alley. Passing through several backyards and narrow lanes, they finally reached a small house near the street.
As soon as they entered, they heard the thudding of hurried footsteps outside—heavy and fast, the sound of armored men running.
They immediately pressed themselves to the wall. Cat peeked out through a window and saw a group of knights in House Lannister's distinctive armor leading a squad of Gold Cloaks, rushing down the street as if in pursuit of someone.
Cat's face turned pale. Littlefinger, concealed in the shadows, let a faint smile flicker across his lips before quickly wiping it away, replacing it with a serious look.
"This place is safe—no one knows it belongs to me," he said. "Stay here. I'll go arrange a ship. You're leaving tonight."
"Petyr… thank you," Cat said, looking at him with gratitude.
Littlefinger looked at her tenderly. "No need to thank me. We're family, remember? You said it yourself—we're family."
Moved by his warmth, Cat turned her head slightly. She didn't notice that in that moment, the look in Petyr's eyes shifted—from disappointment to resolve.
Then Cat remembered Ser Rodrik and said, "My man is still at the inn. Help me get him."
Littlefinger thought for a moment. "Give me a token—something he'll recognize. He's likely being watched. I'll try to bring him, but I can't promise anything."
Cat handed him a token known to Ser Rodrik.
Before leaving, Littlefinger reminded her to wait patiently and not to leave the house.
...
Meanwhile, Lynd had finished packing and was preparing to head out to the camp outside the city to join his men, when a report came in—Eddard Stark had suddenly arrived, asking for an audience.
"Lord Eddard, what brings you here?" Lynd asked, puzzled at the sight of the sweaty and hurried Lord of Winterfell.
"Prince Lynd, I have a request," Eddard said after a brief hesitation. "I hope you'll agree to it."
Lynd raised an eyebrow. "Let's hear it."
Eddard spoke sincerely. "I want to take the bastards north—into my care. I'll raise them myself."
"Give me a reason," Lynd replied.
Eddard said solemnly, "Robert was like a brother to me. I feel it's my responsibility—"
Lynd shook his head, cutting him off. "I imagine Jon Arryn, the former Hand, considered the same thing. But in the end, he didn't choose you—he entrusted them to me. That means he must've had his reasons. Maybe he thought there were things about you that made you unfit to take them in."
"But…" Eddard hesitated, still wanting to argue his case.
"Enough, Lord Eddard," Lynd said, cutting him off again. "Do you have anything else? If not, I have to prepare to leave King's Landing."
Eddard shook his head and turned to go. But after taking just two steps, he stopped, turned back, and said formally, "Lord Lynd, if one day the realm falls into chaos, you…"
Lynd replied bluntly, "So long as it doesn't interfere with the war against the White Walkers, I won't take part in any power struggles among the Seven Kingdoms."
It wasn't the answer Eddard had hoped for, but it was enough. He gave a small nod, said nothing more, and left Lynd's estate in a hurry.
...
Moments after Eddard departed, Varys arrived at the estate and was granted a meeting.
Lynd looked at him and asked, "What's going on? Lord Eddard came to me out of nowhere asking for Robert's bastards, and said some strange things."
Varys calmly explained that Cat had arrived in King's Landing and had accused the Imp of hiring someone to assassinate Bran.
Lynd blinked in surprise, but quickly composed himself. Then he spoke with quiet weight. "So Eddard Stark has walked right into your trap."
"Not ours—Littlefinger's," Varys corrected, shaking his head.
Lynd didn't argue. "I can already picture what's going to happen to Lord Eddard. But I'm curious—what do you plan to do with him?"
"I hope he lives. Men like him—honest and upright—are rare," Varys said seriously. "But there are those who don't want him to live. And you? Do you?"
"I don't care," Lynd said calmly. "Whether Eddard Stark lives or dies—it makes no difference to me. His fate, or that of the Targaryens you support, won't change my plans."