[Open] There is a tree as old as me

[winter_came]

It's been on his mind before the catastrophe, but now the project has bloomed more completely into Ned's mind. It was in the would be nice category before - now it's moved into a category of urgency he wasn't aware of. He's not risking losing Cat again, and he's got the children to think of. The girls are nigh grown, Robb is a man, but now, they

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[aperion_oneiros]

He might find one of those odd types from the future peering in at the door to the solar, a man with a young face and eyes that are old beyond his years, a black-covered sketchbook under his arm.

"Saw your notice in the common room," he says. "I'm Dominic Cobb: I'm an architect, so, if you want a hand at designing your house, I'd be honored to help. I've got a few of my own designs here, if you'd like to take a look" he adds, glancing at the sketchbook.

[winter_came]

Ned is always slightly uneasy about the young people of later times, or other places - they are slightly alien to him, and so he does find himself blinking before he sets his quill down. He was making plans himself, following from the work he did for Old Genkai and her dojo, some years ago. He’s not against fresh blood and a fresher pair of eyes, though - his own aren’t getting better with the passing years.

“Well met, Master Cobb,” the lord of Winterfell replies, straightening from the plans he was loosely designing out of courtesy. “Do come in - the offer is appreciated.”

If Dom wanders closer and has a look at them, he’ll spot that they are fairly archaic in style, and hark very decidedly to Anglo-Saxon architecture, though some arches seem to want to trend towards Merovingian styles.

[aperion_oneiros]

Dom will study the plans, lips pursed slightly, one eyebrow quirked: the blend of styles reminds him of things he'd studied in a course on the history of European architecture which he took during his stint at Berkeley. He'll lean a little closer. "Wow..." he murmurs. "Remarkable..." He'd admit, he's a bit canny himself around the folk from other times: hard not to say too much, since things change a lot. But there's things that don't change: things like wanting a space of your own, building a house and making a home of it. "You have a location selected? Might help to fine-tune the layout to match the land."

[winter_came]

“There is a clearing, not too far from Ser Parsifal's chapel,” Ned replies, “which I thought might do well. It is close enough to be safe from the beasts in the forest, and convenient enough, should we need aught from the Mansion - but it will be our own.”

He frowns, and adds, “Frozen earth makes for poor foundation plans, though.”

[mal_badinlatin]

He might find that rugged captain turned livestock tender outside, carrying an armload of lumber to mend the roof of the goat shed. "Mornin', yer lordship," he says. "Don't mind me: got me a shed t' mend, after the house fell over."

[winter_came]

“Odd how it hasn't rebuilt itself, aye?” Ned replies, falling in step with Mal, though it is an effort given his leg's pains.

It also withstood the blow, though, which counts for much, he reckons.

[mal_badinlatin]

Mal might slacken his pace a bit, accommodating the other man's limits. "Not sure what t' make a' the house comin' back like that, but it's there an' it is what it is. M' goat shed wasn't a total loss: roof o' the goat shed fell in. Easily mended, though. Jus' hope the goats'll go back in: spooked the [livin' hell] out of 'em when the roof went in.

"How's yer lordship been holdin' out? Find a good place t' shelter till the house grew back?

[winter_came]

“Gods be good, we were all safe and sound, safe for my eldest, who went missing a time, and returned altered,” Ned replies tiredly. “Ser Parsifal was kind enough to open the sept’s doors to those who needed shelter.”

His pride still chafes at having been a refugee, but again, if Winterfell has fallen… is that not what his family is, all of them?

[gardenwarlock]

At some point, Ned might find a gruff, swarthy fellow coming into the house, carrying a bundle of clothes and some bags of seeds, clearly moving into the house. From the irate look in his green eyes, he's not entirely pleased with the prospects, and he might glance at Ned briefly before trying to continue on his way down the hallway. But he can be waylaid, since Ned likely outranks him.

[winter_came]

Ned blinks at the movement - people, he reckons, should be moving out, not in. This is odd in the extreme, and so he raises an eyebrow at the man.

"Moving in from outside, my good man?"

This begs a few important questions, one of them is: were outside residences destroyed by the quake?

[gardenwarlock]

Klingsor turns with a sigh. "Aye: the roof upon my cottage collapsed beneath the weight of the snow and the fury of the earth's trembling," he says. "I am moving my chattels here till the weather warms enough for me to rebuild the roof: for the present, it is no place fit for man nor beast, nor is the weather allowing me to change that."

Normally he'd use a little magic to fix that problem, but not after a guileless fool shorted out the spells he'd cast on the ruins he'd turned into a castle...

[winter_came]

Despite his best efforts, Ned looks crestfallen. “Was it the disaster?” he asks, frowning. He had this odd notion that moving out was safe, but….

[starklyrobb]

Her is your wife, Catelyn, accompanied by her eldest son, Robb. The youngest Stark has been left in Angelique's tender care, and Catelyn is enjoying the respite and fresh air, as well as the company of Robb. They seek Ned on the grounds.

[winter_came]

Ned might have returned from sparring with his brother, then, and so his gait is a touch slower, his lame leg makes him limp more visibly than usual.

He'll wave in greeting at his family, though, so pleased, as always, to see them.

[starklyrobb]

Robb is concerned at the gait, struck anew how very injured his father must have been, and still is, given the lingering effects. He feels anger on his father's part, and knows he would very much like to stride Jaime Lannister down for his responsibility.

As if sensing his thoughts, Catelyn squeezes her eldest son's arm, patting his hand and very slowly shaking her head at Robb. She feels anger welling inside him, and this is not the time or the place.

"Hail, father," Robb calls to him, after forcing his voice to even and calm.

By the time they reach Ned, they are both smiling in greeting.

[winter_came]

“Hail,” Ned replies, crossing the distance to meet them, embrace his wife and kiss her cheeks, give his first trueborn a smile, squeeze his shoulder.

“Braving this shortly winter, are we?”

He's doing well with finding help building the Stark dwellings, and that gives him heart, and makes him smile with satisfaction and hope.

[alpha_son]

Though he's never met any of the Starks, Lukas is well-familiar with building and construction. He'd be an asset on the project, experience-wise at least, and it might do him good to use his hands for something useful outside of the pack. He saw the notice, and follows the directions to the solar, knocking lightly on the doorjamb.

[winter_came]

Ned looks up, he'd been compiling a list of material, trying to set up a work plan that makes sense, when the knock interrupted his thought process.

"Aye, come in," he says distractedly.

He's expecting his daughter, actually.

[alpha_son]

Lukas enters, albeit uncertainly, as he's never met Ned and he's quite an imposing character -- almost like a medieval warrior. He clears his throat. "I saw your notice, that you need some construction workers?"

[winter_came]

The voice and the announcement make Ned look up, and he blinks. “Ah, I'm sorry,” he says, “I half-expected my youngest daughter,” he tells the youth.

“I am Lord Eddard Stark, of the late Winterfell.” He hobbles across the room, offers Lukas a handshake. “We've yet to meet.”