[Chapter Size: 4600 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Winterfell, 298 AC.

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‘Dear Arya,

It was good to receive your letter. Despite the problems, which I commented on here, I’m glad you’re well first and foremost with the Stark family.

First of all, I must admit, I was involved with all the roars and outbursts in the sky a few days ago. I flew over Winterfell while I was facing a dragon — the Cannibal of Skagos — three times larger than Eragon.

But you know that, after all, I’ve already given you this information.

I didn’t say I was going to face him… Well, I ended up making that decision over the last few moons and went to his nest on one of the Skagos mountains to tame him. Our fight lasted much longer than just facing him in a cave.

And I can’t say it was an easy task — and quite risky, both for me and for Eragon — while only the two of us fought the beast, starting in Skagos, going north, which you’ve probably already heard of, and then finishing the fight in Essos, to the north of the continent, in the trembling sea.

To bring him down, I had to use the storm itself to my advantage, as he fell in the middle of the sea. It wasn’t an easy task, but successful in the end.’

Arya read that and was stunned.

“He faced a dragon three times bigger than Eragon?!”

Eragon must’ve been what? Around 30 meters… Jon had faced a dragon 90 or 100 meters long.

“This is madness!” Arya exclaimed, wanting to curse Jon, call him reckless. Which would be ironic, coming from her.

But she fought bandits; Jon was facing an ancient dragon, alone. He was being irresponsible and she really wanted to knock some sense into him.

She let out a sigh of relief in the end. After all, Jon had defeated the dragon. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have sent this letter.

‘Anyway, the dragon is now staying in Arctic. He’s getting used to it, and I hope it’s better than his cave.

He’s a little injured. I had to cut one of his eyes for him to release Eragon. If not for that, Eragon would have lost his leg, even with the armor protecting him, and Eragon wouldn’t be well.

Before you ask: the armor I prepared for this battle worked and I’m satisfied that in the end it held up… I would never forgive myself if I lost my first dragon — and my most precious bond. After all, losing Eragon is the same as losing a son, at this point.

I named the dragon Vezofēdrur. He’s beneath the Dragon Mountains in the south of the kingdom. Still very well-behaved. I even took my children to see him, and I’m sure I have control over him.

I did it precisely because I understand his value in the war against the dead, and he’ll be a good addition while the other dragons are still growing.

Anyway, as in previous letters, I believe I now have eight princes awaiting the ninth in a few moons in Seryna’s belly, growing very healthy.

Loki is becoming more and more curious. He wants to go out into the kingdom — I know that. At the same time, he longs for his dragon to fly with him, but it’s still too young, I won’t let it fly alone until its 8 namedays.

I believe both things are his own desire to explore the world.

Well, sometimes I take him to see the city and the people. They’re quite beloved by the Arcticans. Which shouldn’t be a surprise.

But I like Loki’s curiosity. He’s my first son, and I’d be very happy with him taking the throne, as well as his direct lineage.

I just hope he grows into a smart, fair, and strong boy — maybe even better than me.

At the same time, I’m sure he’ll give me plenty of headaches. Today he wants to leave the castle. Tomorrow, he wants to leave Arctic. Soon, he’ll be exploring the entire continent and going to other places in the world — if I did it, he’ll certainly want to as well, I have no doubt about it.

And not that I’ll deny it. But I want him to be ready — just as I was.

No… I wasn’t even ready for my first journeys. I just had to do them, in search of resources.

Now Lyanna, your favorite, remains as energetic as ever. Sometimes, she answers back to her mother and my other wives quite vehemently. Ygritte complains a lot about her, but we all know she got that sharp tongue from her own mother.

Since I’ve known Ygritte’s stubbornness ever since I met her so long ago, you must understand too.

Lyanna misses you, Arya. In fact, she asks about you, even though she met you very young, she still remembers the way you treated children — especially her.

She’s always asking when Aunt Arya will come to Arctic again.

So I can say she’s very excited to see you, which should happen soon. I’ll send the ship in a few days.

Probably, by the time you receive this letter, it should already be arriving in the south of the kingdom. We have a few moons before the northern storm arrives — in other words, the dead…

Anyway, Jaehaerys seems very wise and always observant. He loves being in the library with his mother telling him stories and is starting to learn to read the words on his own. I had to assign a teacher to help him. Even if it still takes a few years before he really gets the hang of it…

Brandon is energetic, even more so since awakening his Warg abilities, and is now surrounded by some animals and his wolf. He tells me he’s even in the mind of his dragon in some dreams. I’m training him personally and having my older children learn to use their powers — they inherited many things from me.

Laena is a beautiful girl, very much like Lyanna, only with black hair like mine. She must love you too.

Visenya took after the Targaryen coloring, she’s almost a second Lyanna.

Aegon has Targaryen eyes except for his black hair. He looks a lot like me, and Daenerys spoils him too much.

Daemon was born very healthy despite the complications in Hiyori’s pregnancy. I’ve never seen Hiyori so happy, and I’m very pleased with our boy and with her.’

Arya began to laugh, filled with a strong desire to see Lyanna and the children… on the side, she might even help raise Loki — or she herself might encourage him even more to explore the world.

‘Lyanna would be different, I would spoil her so much!’ She was longing to see all the children and wanted to meet the new ones.

‘About Seryna and all my wives, they are doing very well.

Seryna and Ygritte have nothing to complain about, you know them very well, although the latter stopped training and is dedicating her time to taking care of our children and painting portraits.

As for Daenerys, Rhaenys, and Hiyori, they are adapting well to Arctic and now consider this place their home.

Well, Daenerys… that wouldn’t be a big surprise. And Rhaenys too, given her hidden life in Dorne. But Hiyori ended up settling in well, even having lived her entire life in Yi Ti.

Daenerys loves children so much that she always visits the Arctic orphanages. Not as frequently as before, now that she has Aegon to care for.

Rhaenys, on the other hand, seems to have turned more toward learning history since she started studying. It’s the subject that interests her most.

We always arrange to talk and drink a bit alone. We have so much fun, and it’s good to be with the person who shares the most of my own blood, but it’s also gratifying in some ways — she even explains things to me I didn’t know. Hilarious, right?

Hiyori is constantly with our son as well, and I always make sure to spend time with her. I set up a garden for her with plants from her lands. She’s never lost her habit of wearing clothes from her homeland, and I see no reason to change her taste. Arctic ships always bring goods that the people themselves request to deliver to her, but the most excessive ones come from her father, always sending stacks of books and dresses along with his letters.

She ends up spending a lot of time in that garden. There’s a Sakura tree I planted and made grow. Daemon always laughs with joy when he’s in that place.

Now my fiancée… as you can imagine, she was very reserved, but she’s been surprising me. She’s becoming friendlier, though still a bit cautious with everyone.

However, I got confirmation that she truly desires this relationship. After all, on the first night I returned after fighting Vezofēdrur, I saw her sneaking into my room. Even my guards came to report it.

And I ended up not sharing my bed with anyone else — I wanted to see what she would do. So it was no surprise when, with everything dark, she appeared with a knife in her hand at my neck, while threatening me, saying she wanted to steal me that night.

So… I took her for myself.’

Arya scoffed, despite feeling happy about the other wives.

“She’s a fool for putting a knife to Jon… She dares?” Arya felt a bit of anger reading that.

‘In a way, Arya, I hope you are well. I heard your suspicions about the queen, and you are not wrong. Her children are bastards, and the king is a fool to believe his bitter wife wouldn’t betray him.

That woman is very dangerous and reckless. But that must be something you already know.

You are very intelligent and capable, but be careful with her.

She’s capable of madness, and if she lays a finger on you, I swear, Arya, I swear I won’t need to send an army.

I have a new dragon now, a giant. I won’t think twice about taking him and heading south — even in the middle of the war.

I can do it easily.’

Arya shivered as she read this, swallowing hard before continuing.

‘Well, in any case, I ask that you prepare to come home.

I’m looking forward to seeing you again because I miss you so much, all of us do.

I sent a gift for uncle. It will be on the ship, and I want someone to take it to Winterfell.

I’ll be waiting for your return.

With love, your Jon.’

Arya couldn’t help but smile at the end of the letter, placing it against her chest for a moment. Then she sighed, folded it, and approached the fireplace that always stayed lit in her room. She threw the letter into the flames — she knew these letters could never fall into anyone else’s hands.

Suddenly, someone knocked on her door at that moment, and Bari opened it.

“That little Lannister is here. Says he has a letter from your father for you,” Bari informed.

Arya raised an eyebrow, remembering that a letter had arrived through him.

“Alright, tell Mearin I want to be alone for a while. She can return to her room… and bring me his letter,” she said, knowing that Mearin would be waiting on the other side, but she wanted some time alone with herself after reading about Jon.

The royal guard nodded, closed the door, and returned shortly after, entering and bringing the letter to her.

She received it, alone once more.

She broke the Lannister seal and opened the letter.

Obviously, after everything the youngest son of the old lion wrote to him, Tywin Lannister wouldn’t stay silent without writing a response soon after.

Arya wasn’t surprised by the letter’s content. Nothing worthy of note, but the old man wanted the sword at all costs, promising that Joy would be well treated and demanding, in a way, a meeting with Jon in Arctic as soon as possible to make the exchange.

But she knew that wasn’t possible at the moment, with the kingdom at war.

Jon wouldn’t meet with him, it wouldn’t be safe to sail out of Arctic right now — not to mention traveling with a dragon, but he didn’t want to reveal that either.

Arya set the lion’s letter aside and simply lay down on her bed, thinking about the things that had happened and also about Jon’s letter.

It seemed she would finally be leaving Winterfell.

She just hoped her family would remain safe here with so many madmen around. As long as her father stayed in the North and didn’t take the position of Hand of the King…

Elsewhere.

“I’m hungry!” the boy groaned.

“Alright, I’ll get something from the kitchen for you… Please wait just a little.”

The servant’s voice spoke, while Rickon Stark nodded, grateful for that.

He was in his room, the servant having left him alone.

He hated being like this. And it had been this way for nearly 10 days, since the king came to Winterfell. Since then, his mother had kept him under supervision the entire time.

He didn’t know what to think of her. They said she did something very bad, and that it was with Jon — a brother he barely remembered, only hearing of him from Arya.

Rickon always had his family and their presence was constant, always visiting him, spending time with him, or even talking together in the hall. But it was strange — now Rickon had to behave all the time, and he was supposed to avoid asking questions… it was weird and irritating… and what irritated him the most was… missing Cassandra.

She always made him feel calm and cozy in her lap, made him laugh, and loved tickling him.

Since his mother caught them, she forbade him from seeing Cassandra.

“I don’t want to!” he exclaimed to himself in sadness.

He loved his mother, yes, and was happy to see her, but it was strange. Most of the time, he was with the servants, while he couldn’t see Cassandra.

He thought it was unfair.

It hurt him. Cassandra was often mistaken for his mother, and she had filled that role with affection over the past year.

He should be happy and fulfilled with his real mother. Even so, he couldn’t help but feel a little sad for not being able to see Cassandra anymore. He wanted her arms again, wanted to hear her telling him stories and holding him close once more…

While alone in his room, he decided to go after her.

He grabbed a small stool he used for meals in the room and placed it in front of the door, managing to reach the handle.

He removed the stool and pulled the door open afterward, with some effort.

Then he looked out at the halls of Winterfell, seeing that no one was around. He began walking carefully, looking for the woman who had cared for him over the past year.

“It’s not fair…” he murmured to himself.

His mother said Cassandra wasn’t his mother and that he shouldn’t go near her.

When he asked the servants — servants placed there by his own mother — they always made up an excuse, saying “Cassandra is working.”

“It’s not fair…”

“It’s not fair!”

Rickon kept repeating it in his head as he wandered through the halls of Winterfell.

He knew if anyone saw him, he’d be in trouble, so he began to hide.

A servant returned to the room sometime later with some food. She gasped upon seeing the door only slightly ajar.

When she opened it, there was no sign of Rickon.

She saw the small stool near the door, which alarmed her.

She immediately ran off looking for the boy.

Rickon didn’t know how much time had passed as he kept sneaking through the castle, passing guards, visitors’ servants, and even those of Winterfell.

He always hid well.

At one point, he saw the queen passing by. Her face was full of anger as she walked down that hallway.

He didn’t understand much of what was going on, but they said she had tried to hurt Arya. His servant had said that while speaking with others who came to his room.

He believed in his sister. He didn’t like that woman.

As he saw her out of the corner of his eye, disappearing, he went down the stairs and began descending, reaching a lower level.

He didn’t know much of the castle, as the servants only ever took him to the hall.

He might have known the way there, but not the rest of the castle.

Bran had said he would help him explore when he was old enough. He was waiting for that.

He was tired of being just the “little boy in the room.”

As he passed through a final corridor, he began to hear a voice.

Immediately, his eyes lit up. He knew that voice very well.

He didn’t know what she was saying, but he recognized her tone clearly.

Though she sounded a little angry, Rickon approached, seeing Cassandra speaking with a guard and a servant in front of her. She seemed upset.

He approached carefully, as the servant was the first to notice him. Soon after, the others — two heads turned — saw the little boy standing there, his eyes fixed on Cassandra the whole time, glowing.

“Mommy…” he said. It was automatic, uncontrollable.

He had lived a year with her caring for him, even taking him to run errands in the castle with little Rickon in her arms.

There was a bond formed in which he had learned to call her that. But it was also strange, with his real mother in the same castle.

He wondered if it was right.

“Rickon?! What are you doing here?” Cassandra immediately let go of all her anger and looked stunned. She knelt in front of the boy as she touched him.

“I’m okay…” he said timidly. “I wanted to explore the castle…” he lied. But his next words were true. “I wanted to see you…” he added, even more shyly.

Cassandra stood there for a couple of seconds, staring at him before pulling him tightly into her arms.

“Oh, Rickon, what were you thinking going out alone like that, my little boy?” she said, hugging him, while he immediately wrapped his small arms around her neck.

“I missed you, mommy…” he murmured, and her embrace tightened even more.

“I missed you too, my little one… I miss my little boy so much…” she said, laughing as she lifted him up into her arms. Rickon settled comfortably in her embrace.

“Who let you out?” Cassandra asked, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“I tricked the servant. I said I was hungry, then opened the door and came to find you.” he didn’t lie any further, while Cassandra gave him a warning look.

“You can’t do that, my little one. It’s dangerous,” she murmured.

“Why dangerous?” Rickon asked cautiously.

“Some enemies hate the Stark family. And they’re here. You just have to be careful, understand? Promise you won’t do this again. If you want to see me…” she suddenly pressed her lips together.

She knew very well she was forbidden to do that. Lady Catelyn had made it perfectly clear. And even if she could talk to Lady Stark, it would be far too strange for a servant to try to go over the real mother just to see her child. That certainly wouldn’t be well-received and would spark rumors.

“You know your sister was almost attacked. Until those people are punished, this place isn’t completely safe, Rickon…” she said, giving him another kiss on the cheek while stroking his hair.

“So I can see you again? Will you come to my room?” Rickon asked hopefully.

“I’ll do my best. I’ll speak with your father and find a way, alright? Just never walk through the castle alone again. Where’s your servant?”

“I… don’t know.” he said timidly, as Cassandra just sighed.

“I see. Either way, you’ve been a very naughty boy.” she laughed as she attacked him with tickles. He immediately laughed as she tickled under his arm.

“Stop! Stop! That’s…” Rickon nearly screamed with laughter.

“What are you doing?”

Everything stopped when suddenly a harsh voice came from behind them, and Cassandra turned around.

In front of her, behind where the guard and servant she had given orders to were standing — was Catelyn Stark, with the very servant assigned to take care of Rickon.

She was looking at Cassandra with pure hatred.

Arya sighed as she hurried out of her room. She had seen everything ever since she found her brother running alone through the castle, through some rats she kept to watch the queen — spotting her little brother hiding from them on the far side of the corridor.

“Princess?” Jill and Bari were surprised as Arya opened the door and strode quickly down the corridor.

“Lock my room and come with me.” was all she said, while one royal guard stayed behind locking the door.

Arya quickly began descending the stairs, heading toward the corridor near the castle kitchens.

They soon heard raised voices, one shouting at the other, and some servants beginning to gather nearby, hiding and eavesdropping on the entire argument.

“He came to me! Stop yelling at the boy, you’re scaring him!” Cassandra shouted.

“You’re influencing him! You’re making him run away from his room, it’s your fault!” her mother’s voice came right after, much louder, hysterical.

“You think I wanted the boy to wander around alone? He took a big risk coming to me!” Cassandra responded.

“So you admit it’s your fault!” Catelyn shouted as she snatched Rickon from Cassandra’s arms. The boy was completely frightened.

When Arya entered and saw him, he began to cry from their yelling.

“Of course not! You think I want that for the boy?! I want him safe and well!” Cassandra said angrily.

“Then stay away from my son!” Catelyn snapped.

“What’s going on here?” Arya approached, frustrated. Her voice made everyone freeze and turn to look at her.

They immediately fell silent, with Catelyn wondering how her daughter carried such authority at such a young age. Even she went quiet under her command.

“Catelyn, I saw what happened. I don’t need an explanation. But you’re wrong,” she said seriously, looking at Rickon with pity.

The boy was in the middle of a conflict he didn’t understand, all because of Catelyn’s petty jealousy, while the boy simply missed the woman who had cared for him.

“You can’t be serious. He’s my son, Arya! No one should steal him from me! I heard… he called her mother! I won’t lose my Rickon too!” she said, her voice full of pain.

“He is your son, not a possession. When you weren’t here, it was Cassandra who cared for him. Why can’t you see that? The boy cares for her, he wants her. Let Rickon be with the people he loves! You’ll still be his mother, and no one can change that.” Arya was frustrated.

“But if he calls her ‘mommy’… She’s trying to steal my place! Don’t you see it, Arya?! She wants to be Lady of Winterfell! A lowborn woman trying to become a noble, trying to take my place!” Catelyn shouted, and everyone went quiet at that — even Cassandra.

“How dare you, Catelyn Tully…” Arya clenched her teeth. She thought she was finally having a moment of peace after reading Jon’s letter.

“How dare you say something like that? Cassandra isn’t trying to take anyone’s place. She knows very well where she stands. Don’t use your jealousy to ruin the stability of this castle — or to hurt Rickon!”

Arya stepped closer, and Catelyn seemed a bit surprised by her daughter’s aggressiveness.

“I want Rickon now. Give him to me. I’ll take care of him. You’ve frightened him enough already,” Arya growled, as Catelyn saw the boy crying, visibly shaken and unsure, but she handed him over.

Arya took him.

“It’s alright, little brother. It’s alright…” she said, while he cried into her shoulder.

Then Arya turned to Catelyn.

“Just… don’t stir up more trouble. Father was serious. He said he would remove you from Winterfell if you became disruptive enough.” Arya snarled, then turned to Cassandra.

“Cassandra, I’m sure you have something to do. I’ll take care of my brother now.” she said.

“Yes, princess.”

With that, Cassandra turned around and began to leave.

The gathered servants slowly dispersed. Arya simply turned her back, ignoring her mother still standing there, and continued down the corridor.

“Rickon, how about we go to the courtyard? We might find Bran there,” she whispered in his ear, and the boy nodded, even though he was still crying, soaking her dress with his tears.

But she didn’t mind. She walked on, her guards following just behind.

Ned Stark sighed as soon as he heard what had happened. He realized he needed to speak with Cassandra.

He called for Jory after writing a short letter.

“Deliver this to Cassandra. Only her.” he instructed, placing the small piece of parchment in the hand of Winterfell’s captain of the guard.

This needed to be settled once and for all — and they would decide what to do tonight.

“Yes, Lord Stark.” Jory left.

Cassandra was in a bad mood. Her happiness at seeing the little boy had been crushed by that woman’s venom.

She, lowborn, wanting to take her place? ‘I never wanted that…’ she thought, as she received the letter from Jory.

She read it and burned it, as it was a direct instruction from Lord Stark.

Inside the letter, there was a request.

She waited until dinner and then made her way to the godswood.

The guards allowed her in. She had only been there two or three times before. That place belonged to the Stark family.

Just like the family tombs, she had no right to be there. She only came when something urgent needed to be said — like now, as per her lord’s request.

But she couldn’t deny that when her feet touched the ground there, that place calmed her.

She had always been devoted to the Old Gods — maybe not as much as Arya — but she prayed often and visited the sacred tree in Wintertown, praying for her children.

Many years ago, she had prayed for her husband, that he would return safely from war.

Unfortunately, that prayer went unanswered.

But she didn’t blame the Old Gods. Not everyone could be saved.

Regardless, it was all very dark now, except for a torch held by the man standing there.

Ned Stark was present, standing and looking toward the tree.

She approached carefully as he turned to her.

He had already felt her presence.

“Lady Cassandra, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Just Cassandra, Lord Stark. I am not a lady,” she said.

“Well… I heard what happened.”

“Yes. I would assign guards to watch even your youngest son. Winterfell is too dangerous now for the boy to be wandering alone,” she murmured.

Ned Stark nodded.

“You’re right. That was my failure. It won’t happen again,” he said, before looking at her more seriously.

“Either way, I’d like to resolve everything between us.” he said, a bit embarrassed.

Cassandra was surprised he would act like that over something so trivial.

But she nodded.

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