After nearly sprinting his way around half of Winterfell, Aedric finally found his target—Bran Stark, who was just about to climb up the castle wall.
"Bran."
Seeing that this future Three-Eyed Raven hadn't yet started climbing, Aedric let out a long sigh of relief, hurried forward, and pulled the boy back down. Shaking his head, he said, "Your lady mother already told you not to climb the walls again. If you fell, that would be terrible."
"I won't fall. I'm careful!"
One had to admit—there was a reason Jon Snow had been willing to give up his protagonist's luck to save House Stark. Most of the Starks treated him kindly despite his bastard birth, and the family bonds were genuine. So instead of getting angry at being stopped, the young Bran Stark's eyes lit up with excitement.
"Jon! Did you see Father and the King's hunting party leaving? They're going hunting! It looks amazing!"
Aedric's eyes flicked, almost involuntarily, toward a tall tower in the distance. From within came the faint sound of moaning.
He cursed inwardly—those damned adulterers.
Keeping his expression calm, he took Bran's hand and began leading him back toward Winterfell. "Bran, I think His Majesty the King came here to ask Lord Stark to go to King's Landing to serve as his Hand. If that's true, you might not see him for a long time."
"What? Really?" Bran's young face fell instantly. At his age, he still needed his parents' company; the thought of being separated from his father made him anxious.
"Yes," Aedric said, quickening his pace. The farther they got from that tower, the better. "So now's not the time to make your parents worry. You should spend more time with them—especially your lady mother. I'm sure she's feeling troubled right now."
"Brandon!"
Speak of the devil. The moment the words left his mouth, Lady Catelyn Tully herself came striding toward them, her face dark with fury.
"Have you been climbing the walls again?" she snapped, grabbing Bran by the arm. "I told you not to do such dangerous things!"
"I didn't! Mother, I didn't!" Bran blurted out in panic. "I was with Jon the whole time! Really, I didn't climb! Right, Jon?"
Catching the boy's pleading look, Aedric could only nod helplessly. "Yes, my lady. Bran's been with me the whole time. He didn't climb any towers."
Lady Catelyn shot him a cold glare—eyes filled with open dislike and disdain. Without a word to him, she tightened her grip on Bran and turned to leave.
"My lady," Aedric called after her, taking two quick steps forward. "Has Lord Stark already decided whether to go to King's Landing?"
Catelyn paused, frowning slightly as suspicion flashed through her eyes. "How do you know about that? Who told you?"
"It wasn't hard to guess, my lady," Aedric replied respectfully. "I heard that the former Hand of the King just passed away, and now His Majesty has come personally to Winterfell. Considering the friendship between the King and Lord Stark, it's very likely he's come to invite Lord Stark to serve as his new Hand—and equally likely Lord Stark will accept."
"These matters are none of your concern," Catelyn said coldly. "Don't forget your place."
"I haven't forgotten, my lady," Aedric answered evenly. Unlike Jon Snow, he didn't carry that deep sense of inferiority. "I only wish to ask that, if Lord Stark does go to King's Landing, you might suggest that I accompany him. I want to help ensure his safety—and repay the Stark family's kindness in raising me."
Catelyn studied his face for a long moment, her expression unreadable. The secret letter she had received the previous night flickered through her mind. Finally, she said quietly, "I'll speak with Eddard about it. Until there's an answer, do not mention this matter again."
After Aedric bowed in acknowledgment, she said no more and led the curious Bran away, his direwolf Summer trotting close behind.
As for her coldness, Aedric didn't take it personally. For a noble lady of her rank, it was remarkable enough that she hadn't already had her husband's bastard quietly disposed of. Compared to how Robert Baratheon's bastards fared, Jon Snow really ought to be counting his blessings.
Whether or not Eddard Stark agreed to take him along didn't matter much to Aedric anyway. It would be ideal if he could go openly, but if not, he could always find another way. He wasn't some native bound by the rules of Westeros—he carried in him the Chinese spirit of "Why not me, if others can be kings and dukes?"
Honestly, if House Stark hadn't treated Jon so decently—especially Lord Eddard, who'd risked everything to protect him—Aedric's "plan" might have been as simple as crippling Eddard. If he couldn't walk, he couldn't go to King's Landing, and the tragedy would be averted right there.
Lost in thought, Aedric wandered back toward Winterfell, his faithful direwolf Ghost padding beside him. The snow-white wolf seemed utterly unfazed by his master's changed soul, remaining as loyal and affectionate as ever.
Crouching down, Aedric lifted the wolf into his arms, gently stroking its smooth fur. A strange warmth spread through him—as if there were a genuine blood connection between them.
Skinchanging… One of Jon Snow's innate talents. So Aedric had inherited that too.
Jon Snow's heritage was that of both wolf and dragon. The wolf blood gave him his warging gift—but what of the dragon's blood? What power might that awaken?
As he pondered this, a soft whistling sound cut through the air from behind him. Aedric didn't even turn around. His hand flashed out, snatching a flying pinecone from midair.
He smiled faintly. "Arya, I know it's you. Come out."
A small figure bounded out from behind a tree—Arya Stark, her face scrunched up in frustration.
Aedric couldn't help but smile. He reached out and ruffled her hair affectionately. "What's wrong, Arya? Who made you angry?"
"Hmph! Father and Robb went hunting with the King, but they wouldn't let me come!" Arya pouted. Then her eyes sparkled with curiosity. "But, Jon—how did you do that? You didn't even look, and you still caught my pinecone! Can you teach me?"
Aedric thought for a moment, recalling Arya's extraordinary skill with the sword in the show. A new idea came to him.
He gently set Ghost down, picked up two twigs from the ground, and handed one to her. Smiling, he said, "Let's play a little game first. Can you draw a circle with your left hand and a square with your right hand at the same time?"