The wind shrieked across the frozen plain as Benjen Stark emerged from the trees, the Wall rising before him like a wall of gods, towering and absolute. The snow beneath his boots crunched with every step as he crossed the last stretch of open ground. His horse plodded beside him, half-limping. Tucked close in his arms was a bundled infant, asleep and warm. Behind him padded the mother direwolf—and trotting beside her, barely larger than a rabbit, a pup with oversized paws and pale eyes.
They stepped out into the open just before Castle Black's gate.
A shout rang out from the ramparts.
"Rider approaching! From the woods!"
A pause.
"It's Benjen Stark!"
Then another voice, more alarmed.
"He's not alone. He has a wolf. Two wolves. One's a pup... and something wrapped in his arms."
Benjen stopped a few feet short of the gate. He said nothing. The direwolf stood still as stone beside him, the pup curled close against her flank. Silence fell. Above, shapes shifted. Crossbows were raised, and then another voice barked:
"Don't open the gate! Get the Lord Commander!"
Benjen waited in the cold, the wind biting his cheeks. The child stirred briefly in his arms, then settled again. His tiny hand twitched out from the furs, pink against the snow.
Eventually, the gate creaked open just enough to let a figure through. Wrapped in thick black wool and fur, Lord Commander Rorrick strode out, flanked by two armed brothers.
He stared at Benjen in silence. Then at the direwolf. Then the infant. And finally, the pup, which gave a small sneeze.
"You return with more than you left with," Rorrick said.
"I do," Benjen answered.
"What's in your arms?"
"A child. I found him in the far woods. Alone. No shelter. No tracks. I think he was left there."
"You think," the Lord Commander repeated, his voice flat. He looked at the wolves again. "And they?"
"They followed. The mother hasn't attacked anyone. The pup barely understands its own legs."
A grunt came from one of the guards. "Direwolves don't just follow you like strays."
Benjen ignored him.
Rorrick folded his arms. "You know the rules. No wives. No sons. No heirs. And no babes."
"I know," Benjen said. "I'm not asking for him to stay here. I only want time to send a letter to my brother. He's the Warden of the North. If anyone can find a place for the child, it's him."
Rorrick's expression didn't change. "And what if he says no?"
"Then I'll figure something else out. But I couldn't leave him to die."
Another man muttered behind the Lord Commander, "Might've been left for death on purpose."
Benjen turned to him sharply. "Then let the gods judge me for what I did."
The wind blew stronger. Rorrick looked down at the pup as it took an awkward step forward and then sat in the snow. Then at the child again.
"You're asking a lot. More than you know."
Benjen didn't respond.
Rorrick sighed through his nose. "Fine. You may enter. But we're not done." His voice lowered. "We speak further in my office."
Benjen nodded.
The gates groaned open.
As he stepped inside Castle Black, silence rippled through the courtyard. Black Brothers paused in their work. Some stared. Others murmured. More than a few sneered when they saw the baby—or the wolves.
"Bloody madness, bringing a babe here," someone whispered.
"That wolf'll eat him before nightfall," another said.
"Should've left it in the woods. All of it."
Benjen walked past them, the child still warm in his arms, the pup clumsily following behind, nearly hidden in its mother's shadow.
He didn't slow down.
He had a letter to write.