Game of Thrones: The Dragonborn - Chapter 43 - The Winterfell Banquet 02.

[Chapter Size: 2000 Words.]

Third Person POV.
Somewhere on North.

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The explosion of the dragon falling in the middle of Wolf's Forest startled many nearby animals. Wolves, squirrels, and other rodents, along with birds, fled as the white dragon landed.

Jon looked satisfied with the landing as he climbed off its back, jumping a few meters onto the ground, which wasn't as freezing as beyond the Wall. It took a few hours, but they had finally arrived near Winterfell, at least close enough that no one would see a dragon. Jon ensured that no one was hunting nearby with his magical eyes.

“Well… we’ll have to part ways here…” Jon turned back to the dragon, and she looked at him as if displeased.

“You can’t follow me… not this time. After all, they’ll try to kill you, and that wouldn’t be good for either of us, because I would have to interfere…” Jon spoke calmly.

The dragon’s only response was a snort, while Jon shrugged. “Now I have to head to Winterfell. It’s a shame I don’t have a spectral horse, so I’ll have to go on foot. I hope to arrive by the middle of the night...” he murmured, turning back to the dragon a second time with a much firmer tone.

“Remember, don’t follow me this time. That was my last warning. Wait for me here. I’ll be back in less than a week. Besides Winterfell, hunt for food in the forest or along the coast, but don’t go near any towns, especially Wintertown, which is nearby.” Jon tried to warn her once more, making sure the dragon would remain obedient.

The dragon seemed to growl at him, showing her teeth, appearing displeased with Jon’s tone, but she eventually turned her back on him and lay down right there.

Jon saw this and said nothing more, turning as he began walking toward Winterfell. Hours passed as Jon continued his solitary walk through the Wolf's Forest. Winterfell was preparing for another feast, as the Stark family once again hired all the bards and entertainers they could to entertain the king at the castle. Once again, the place was filling up in preparation for the celebration.

“Mance… how long should we wait…? We’ve already been here with the southerners for several moons… At this rate, by the time we return beyond the Wall, everyone will be walking corpses from the cold shadows!” A man, dressed like a commoner, with a disheveled appearance, returned to Mance, who was in a corner of Winterfell while the King-Beyond-the-Wall was tuning his lute.

“I know I’ve already looked at the king enough... as I wanted, and I’ve already made my decision that we can’t count on the understanding of the south. But I wanted to take one more look. However, it seems there’s nothing more to do here… we’ll leave soon…” Mance said, focused on tuning his strings to play another night for the king, southern nobles, and those from south of the Neck.

“For me, we can stay as long as Mance wants. The southerners really know how to make delicious food and good beer. I’ve never eaten like this before…” A third man from the group of six spoke up.

“Stop being foolish… we don’t belong to this land. The southerners would kill us if they knew who we are…” the first man spoke again. “At least not until we’ve crossed the Wall with the entire tribe.”

“Speak more quietly, Jarl! We can’t let anyone hear that kind of talk!” Mance immediately complained as he looked at the men passing by them.

“Sorry… I just want to leave. The southern king is weak, and the Starks aren’t the fierce wolves we thought they’d be. We can defeat them! I want to get everyone across the Wall soon,” Jarl commented.

“I understand… we’ll have to wait one more day,” Mance said in the end.

“All right… you know, Mance… you’re aware of my interest in Della’s sister. I plan to steal her as soon as we cross the Wall…” he said.

“I knew he would say that sooner or later; I just didn’t know it would be so random. Hahaha!” Some of the wildlings laughed at the comment.

“You can try to steal her, but know that Val is a fierce woman,” Mance remarked.

"I know… it's because I think she would bear good children!" he said, thinking he could have the blonde with blue eyes, unaware that she was already someone’s lance-wife at that moment.

"Hey, you there!!" At that moment, a man from Winterfell, none other than Ser Rodrik, approached them. "I'm going to have to ask you all to leave. An important lord will be arriving soon, so I'd appreciate it if you cleared the courtyard," he said.

"All right, Ser. We're leaving," Mance said in a submissive tone as all the disguised wildlings began to leave the area.

Ser Rodrik nodded as he went to ask other people to clear the area while preparing the courtyard for the arrival of the visitors.

"Are they arriving, Ser Rodrik?" The lord of Winterfell approached, leaving the main entrance.

"Yes, my lord, in a few minutes, they’ll be here, according to our scouts," he replied, and Ned nodded.

"Now I need my children here…" he murmured, and it didn’t take long for each of his children to arrive at the location, or at least almost all of them.

"Father." The red-haired sixteen-year-old and heir to Winterfell approached him.

"Rob. Come, my son. You’re going to meet an old friend of your father," Ned commented as Bran, Arya, and Catelyn, followed by young Rickon, gathered around them.

"Where is Sansa?" Ned asked, frowning at the absence of his eldest daughter.

"I don’t know… I called her, Ned," Catelyn murmured.

"She didn’t want to come, said staying with the prince was more important!" Arya exclaimed, while Ned looked quite displeased at his wife.

"I’ll speak to her later, Ned," Catelyn murmured.

"I hope so. What will the northern lords think if our children can’t receive them?" he said with distaste, and at that moment, people stopped entering through the gate, blocked by guards as a new group appeared.

The green lizard-lion banner was carried by knights, and a small group emerged with the same symbol on their armor. Leading them was Howland Reed, the Lord of Greywater Watch, an old friend of Ned who had never visited Winterfell before.

He quickly walked within a reasonable distance of the family as his guards took their positions. He emerged with a limp, accompanied by a couple of young people as they approached the Starks. The man had a serious problem with his leg, causing him to walk with a noticeable limp, but Ned didn’t mind; after all, he owed his life to this man.

"Lord Stark!" Howland greeted.

"Lord Reed, it’s an honor to see you here," Ned responded.

"Indeed, it’s good to see you as well, Lady Stark. And these must be your children…" He saw Lady Stark greeting him and looked at all the children, pointing to the boy and girl who accompanied him.

"This is my eldest daughter, Meera Reed. And this is my son and heir, Jojen Reed," he introduced them.

"It’s an honor to meet you. They certainly look like strong children," Ned commented as they continued exchanging pleasantries. Ned then asked Robb and Bran to accompany Howland’s children around the castle and show them the sights, while he went with Howland to his solar, and Catelyn took a reluctant Arya away to prepare for the banquet.

"You know… I was quite surprised by the news of your arrival this afternoon," Ned commented.

"I’m also surprised, Lord Stark, but I came here to meet someone," he said.

"Please, call me Ned," Ned insisted. "Meet someone? The king?" Lord Stark was taken aback and asked.

"No… he’s not in the castle. In any case, I hope my presence isn’t a burden, Ned," Howland said.

"You never need to be so formal, Howland. Stay at Winterfell as long as you need," Ned said in a friendly tone.

"Thank you… So, it’s true… you’re going south?" Howland asked.

"So, you know… word has already spread beyond Winterfell?" Ned asked, surprised, as he hadn’t yet informed the northern lords.

"My son found out about it," he said with a smile.

"Your son?"

"It’s a bit complicated, but in any case, it’s good to see you. How are you?" Howland asked sincerely.

"Yes… we were fighting in a bloody war almost 20 years ago… now we live in a time of peace, although we carry some scars from that time," he said, carefully looking at Howland’s knees.

"I’m fine with it, if that’s what you want to know… years make you get used to being half-crippled. Anyway, we must now take care of our children, and speaking of that, I felt the absence of one upon my arrival," he said.

"Sorry about that. Sansa has been a bit rebellious since she found out she would be queen, but I asked Catelyn to take care of her," he explained.

"I wasn’t talking about Sansa, though congratulations are in order for her being the future queen of Westeros. I was talking about the other one," he commented carefully, noticing Lord Stark’s face grow darker.

"He died a long time ago, Howland… there’s nothing more to be done," Ned spoke with an equally dark tone, as if referring to an old wound from his past, which was also tied to his sister.

"But you promised Lyanna, and from what I know, you didn’t really keep your promise…" Howland was treading on delicate ground, but there were things he needed to discuss with Ned based on what he had learned from those times. Ned had treated the boy in a way Lyanna would never have wanted, despite his promise.

"IT WASN’T MY FAULT!" Ned erupted, slamming his fist on the table with a loud shout that caused the door to open, with his guard checking if everything was all right.

Howland wasn’t startled by the Lord of Winterfell’s outburst, keeping his eyes fixed on him, without even blinking.

Ned stared back before sighing and turning to his guard. "It’s all right, Jory. You can leave us," he said in a calmer tone.

"Sorry about that, my lord… it’s just that this matter is quite delicate. I know you didn’t like how I treated Lya’s son… but I did everything to protect him… in the end, he vanished without any warning. It’s been 8 years now… no one knows where he went, and to me, he’s dead," Ned finished.

"…" Howland only looked at him without saying a word, but his lips quivered as if he wanted to speak, but in the end, he remained silent.

"In any case… I think I’m a bit tired and would like to be alone for a while. You can leave now; accommodations have been arranged for you, your family, and your men, and Jory Cassel can take you to our castellan. I hope to see you at tonight’s feast," Ned said.

"All right. I’m going," Howland replied, saying nothing more as he nodded and left, leaving Ned alone with his thoughts of old wounds.

"So these are your direwolves!" Jojen was surprised as they walked through the castle with Bran and Robb. Theon joined them shortly after, seeing Meera, while maintaining a constant smile in her direction, which she ignored.

"They are! We all have one," Robb commented, holding his grey wind.

"And that white one?" Meera asked, noticing a small white wolf among them.

"Well… he doesn’t belong to anyone, but he came with the litter. My father said he doesn’t have the time to keep a wolf, so he’s always left aside," Bran explained.

"He already has a bond, actually," Jojen said with an intense look at the red-eyed wolf, as if trying to see through its red eyes.

"Really?" Bran asked curiously, turning to Robb, who didn’t know what to say.