Look in the Godswood

Your Father's favourite place, it seems. The Godswood. Two birds, one stone. You can see if he's there, and also see if Sansa might have dropped her sewing kit when she last visited. It was a slim hope.

The hustle and bustle of Winterfell life fell away as you stepped into the unnatural silence of the Godswood. As you wander through, you scan the area, but note nothing of import until you reach the large cleaning in the centre.

In the shade of the Heart Tree lies a pond, warm all year around from geological process, or so Maester Lewin claims. The earth moving beneath their feet in hidden ways. In the pond, sat naked on the side of it, is Lord Eddard Stark. His body is built like a stone wall, with a hairy chest and shaggy brown hair that falls to his shoulders in an unruly fashion. His whole body is lined and scarred from battle.

He sits, nursing his cock in his hand, massaging it and cleaning it. It is moist from the washing, and as he sits there, he begins to slowly trace his hand down the length of it, almost thoughtfully.