With The North returning to the Seven Kingdoms, Eddard had already prepared himself for being slighted, as well as for the mockery and malice of others.
He would face it all calmly.
Because it was the price he had to bear.
He also knew full well that the last Targaryen had brought three dragons. The North's "tenacity" was meaningless and would only bring destruction.
More importantly, he could not force Gryn Crabb—the benefactor of The North and House Stark—into becoming an enemy. That would betray the honor of House Stark.
He trusted Gryn. The new king of the Seven Kingdoms would allow The North a place within the realm. That was already the best outcome he could imagine.
Yet—
The King of the Seven Kingdoms before him had already considered the "awkward" position of House Stark and The North within the Seven Kingdoms. The king and queen had opened their arms to them together.
Eddard drew a deep breath. He... had no way to repay this.
Then—
An indescribable sense of relief swept through him. Even the gray sky seemed much brighter.
His gray eyes turned toward Gryn. "Your Grace, Stark never forgets."
Gryn smiled and nodded, reaching out to pat his arm. "Lord Ned, let's head back."
Their steps turned toward the way they had come. As they walked, Gryn said, "Let's talk about the White Walkers..."
He took a swig of wine, paused, and continued, "...On the surface, I came to The North because of Stannis. My true purpose was to discuss the White Walkers with you."
Lord Eddard hung the wineskin at his waist. "Winterfell will not shirk its duty. I will prepare for war."
Gryn's steps paused slightly. "I want you to muster one hundred thousand soldiers from The North. Quickly—and the more, the better."
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