[Chapter Size: 3400 Words.]

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Third Person POV

White Harbor, 298 AC.

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Arya was received by the Manderly family as soon as she passed through the gates, something that should have happened on the estate, but due to Arya’s intention of going straight to the ship, she politely refused their invitation as soon as they learned they were returning, with a messenger on horseback.

Wyman himself made a point of leaving his seat and awaited the princess of Arctic and her entourage together with the Tyrell Lords who accompanied them.

Arya was received with the Manderly men preventing the common folk from approaching, while Lord Manderly himself, his sons, Wendel and Wylis, and his granddaughters, Wynafryd and Wylla, were waiting for them.

Trinsmy soon stepped forward, checking the situation, and Wyman himself could not help but sweat. By this point, all of the North knew very well what this man was capable of; he had threatened and scorned the king in his face, nearly promised to kill the queen, cut off Jaime Lannister’s hand, and nearly killed the queen when he almost struck her head with his sword after throwing the white cloaks to the ground.

This Arctican did not seem to have limits and would threaten anyone, not hesitating to kill if he deemed it fitting. The problem was that he already seemed violent by nature. But unlike what Wyman might have imagined, instead of starting trouble at that moment, Trinsmy merely looked at them, studying both his family, his guards, and even the crowd, focusing mainly on the buildings and houses, waiting for any sign of someone hidden with a bow or crossbow aimed at them.

Wargs had already done this in the group, always studying every place they entered. The Wargs themselves stayed in the wagons, scouting the region through their animals. But it was always good to look at the place with one’s own eyes as well.

Trinsmy then pulled back with his steed, giving space for Arya to finally interact with the Manderlys.

“Lord Manderly, your reception is a surprise.” Arya said as she dismounted her horse and greeted the Manderly family properly.

“Princess Arya. I learned of your arrival after you expressed your haste to my messenger.” He said, while Arya nodded.

“Yes, you must have already heard about my refusal to Lady Cerwyn as I passed through her lands. Unfortunately, I must depart for Arctic as quickly as possible, so I fear I must refuse your request.” She said calmly, yet politely.

“I heard about that, and I can understand you. However, by my duty as the lord of this city, I must still insist on the invitation.” Wyman said.

“Then I insist that I must refuse it, my lord. I am leaving for Arctic today itself.” She said.

“Then I shall not insist further, but I want you to still accept some of my gifts, both for you and for the Arctican king. I know Westeros does not have the best relationship with the Arcticans, but I would still like to show that the Manderlys hold good will toward the Arcticans.” He said as Arya raised her eyebrow.

She did not need to have eyes in the back of her head to see that Willas Tyrell and his brother were frowning at this moment. This was clearly favoritism, seeking the good graces of the Arcticans. The Manderlys were sending a clear message that they wanted to side with Arctic, declaring a bit of their political stance in a small act of unsolicited generosity.

Arya could not refuse this, so she gave a polite smile.

“You gift us when we asked for nothing, are you sure of this, Lord Manderly?” she asked courteously.

“The Manderlys would always like to be in the good graces of the Arcticans. I would have preferred to do this in our seat, but here we have our opportunity.” He said as he clapped his hands, a space opening up by the men in Manderly leather armor, while wagons were brought forward to them.

The wagons stopped before the entourage, and when the Manderly men pulled back the tarps, it was not simple food or common fabrics that were revealed, but items that would even leave southern lords with a certain envy.

A velvet-lined chest was opened, displaying black pearls the size of walnuts. Beside the chest were carpets from Myr and Volantis, with designs of dragons, mermaids, and waves.

Finally, there was a wagon with a sweet and exotic scent that filled the air as barrels of golden wine from Lys and oriental spices were opened.

Willas Tyrell pressed his lips even tighter, and his brother looked away with disdain, clearly displeased with such a demonstration of favoritism.

“Let men call this flattery if they wish. But I acknowledge a man who created a sea route, nothing less than the greatest sea route this world has ever seen. This is the way I show my admiration for Jon Arctic. He did not show prowess only in the conquests from the battles he fought over the years, whether in Yi-Ti, in Slaver’s Bay, or even in the Dothraki desert, but also in his ability to create trade that had never existed before, selling his goods throughout the known world.” Wyman Manderly said loudly enough for all to hear, making clear why he was doing that.

He said nothing about the battle Jon had with the Reach and Westerlands’ houses and cities, nor about the battle against the royal naval force, where the king fell defeated against Jon. Perhaps that would reflect poorly on the Manderlys, after all, they were still a house of the Seven Kingdoms. So such events should be ignored.

“Then I would very much like to meet Jon Arctic the next time, even if it be in Braavos. So, Princess Arya, I would like you to carry this request to him and share my wish to meet him one day for a conversation.” Wyman finished.

Of course, all of this was disguised as a gift with a request, but everyone there would see the favoritism the Manderlys had just declared that day. Perhaps under the influence of Ned’s conduct in Winterfell, the North seemed more inclined to follow Arctic.

Arya seemed satisfied with this, but she could see that it was somewhat troublesome, since Arctic was closed off to the world, in its war. They could not simply march south with an army while they were at war against the dead, and most of the South did not believe that story when Jon or Arya had never wished to show any evidence beyond their words. Not when they had nothing to prove to the South.

“You are very generous with this, Lord Manderly.” Arya said, though she did not see much in it. Jon had all of that and much more, but she would still accept Lord Manderly’s gift, which still held value for houses south of the Wall, especially for the Northerners.

They had not been very pleased at losing the opportunity to repurchase food from Braavos sold by Arctic, an action forbidden by the crown, which until then had left all the North hostage to southern prices.

That was until Lord Willas Tyrell brought his proposal with his visit to the North, but even so, there was already a certain resentment growing in the North, dissatisfied with the Iron Throne. Certainly, the events that had taken place in Winterfell in the last weeks would not help that either.

“You will always be welcome in King’s Landing, as throughout the North, Princess. Before we conclude all this and trouble you no longer, let me introduce the rest of my family so that they may bid you farewell properly.” He said as the other four members stepped forward.

Arya greeted Wylis and Wendel, while Wylis’ daughters came next.

“Princess Arya, I hope you have a great journey to the North.” Wylla said with a certain enthusiasm, and Arya could even hear a touch of envy in her voice. Perhaps it was the desire to go to sea like the stories of Arya, for the last time they had met during visits throughout the North, the youngest had shown her wish to go to sea as Arya had done with Jon.

Since she would not be an heir to her house, being the younger sister, she longed to sail, even as a woman. She admired Arya. And though Arya could see her younger self in that girl, even though she was older than Arya, she no longer wished to be as free and adventurous as she once had been. Perhaps because she had already had her share of adventure, Arya seemed to seek something else now.

“Thank you for your words, I hope you can accomplish everything you wish. My Lady.” Arya said.

Then she spoke with Wynafryd, which was a calmer conversation.

“Where is Mearin, I would like to speak with your lady-in-waiting.” Wynafryd asked.

Arya nodded, and Mearin came out of the wagon after a royal guard called for her. Greeting Wynafryd, since they had gotten along well in the last visit, Mearin had accompanied Arya and stayed by her side the entire time, so it was common for her to know most of the ladies of the North, gathered around Arya like doves to a pot of water, many of them eager to hear about Jon.

In the end, Arya went to the port, while the Manderlys made a point of clearing the way for the Arcticans themselves. The imposing ships were already there, with Arctican sailors waiting to finally set sail.

Lord Manderly still followed them, while finally turning his attention to the Tyrell brothers.

“We will be waiting for the shipment of food that Lord Stark ordered. But I would like us to talk more in my home. I would like to invite you to spend the night here, if you are still returning to Winterfell.” Wyman said.

“We are leaving after this. Everyone is already here, there is no reason to remain in the North. So I will accept your invitation, I would like to have a roof and a comfortable bed before the journey.” He said as Manderly nodded.

“That is great. Very well. Let us go to my home after finishing here and we will talk more. I also heard that you are returning some money to the Artesians.” Wyman said.

“Yes, we are doing that at this very moment.” He replied while speaking to his men.

The Arcticans were already beginning to load their belongings onto the ship, the luggage and the gifts they had brought from Winterfell.

Soon the Valyrian steel shield was carried to the ship, as it had been brought from Winterfell as soon as Arya had departed. Lord Stark had delivered it even before the arrival of Trinsmy and the others.

“I will miss the North.” Mearin commented beside Arya, looking at the port from the edge of the ship’s deck.

They were watching the Arctican men bringing the cargo onto the ship, while they could see Wyman Manderly and his sons speaking with the Tyrell brothers.

“You know what was strange…” Mearin continued.

“What, Mearin?” Arya asked.

“It was finding those men of House Tarly…” She commented.

“Yes…” Arya had to admit it had been unexpected.

They were in Cerwyn territory when they came across a group of Tarly soldiers escorting a member of the family—none other than the heir, Samwell Tarly—north. None other than to the Wall.

Arya had been surprised by him, remembering the somewhat shy man Jon had spoken to when they were at the feast in Highgarden. Jon had even helped him in his joust. Arya did not like that at all.

She had seen the boy with his elbows dropped, ashamed. Even Willas Tyrell had been shocked at this and questioned the young man, but later Arya approached him.

‘Lord Tarly can be quite cruel… This is not Samwell’s decision, but there is nothing we can do about it.’ Willas had said to Arya.

Arya had wanted to tell Jon about it, but she could never reach the eagle Jon had set to watch them during the journey. She knew of the eagle, but it only traveled from afar, at least she had noticed it before the encounter with the Tarly men escorting Samwell to the Wall, and without a bird swift enough to reach the eagle, she had no way to draw its attention. Her last eagle had been killed by Jaime Lannister after Arya had ordered it to attack the queen.

Her gaze lifted to the sky, wishing to see the eagle somewhere, but she could not find it to try and call to it. She was certain Jon would be interested in the fate of young Tarly.

In any case, she remained there, waiting until all of them had finished loading everything onto the ship, while most of the Arcticans were already preparing to depart.

Arya went once more to speak with Lord Tyrell, while they began unloading the chests of gold from the Reach lord’s ship, transferring them to the Arctican vessels as well. Quickly counting the coins, they checked that the agreed amount was correct. It was a somewhat slow but steady process, ending in about an hour.

Arya had to bid farewell one last time to Lord Tyrell, along with Lord Manderly and his family, who wished her a safe journey. She then returned to the ship at last, accompanied by one of her companions.

The giants walked back and forth, handling the heaviest tasks aboard the ship, while the crowd watched in fascination at the four-meter-tall creatures—something they had been doing for days since their arrival.

The giants were an impressive spectacle, moving across the vessel. Each ship had two of them to operate the wildfire harpoon launchers, in case they needed to deal with an enemy.

There were spies as well, as the captain reported catching some and handing them over to the Manderlys, those who had tried to sneak aboard the ship to infiltrate among the Arcticans, or even to steal their secrets. It was no surprise they wanted to seize the technology of launching wildfire that the Arcticans had created, along with the secret formula of wildfire they had developed.

It was no wonder the Arcticans had the reputation of being invincible at sea. After all, they could destroy entire enemy fleets without ever needing to come close, all thanks to the launching technology they had built with the giants. They had essentially revolutionized naval warfare and come to dominate it entirely. Even more so when they were the only ones who possessed this power.

It was common for people to yield to such power—both in Essos and Westeros—seeking to obtain it for themselves. Even with ships docked in Essos and other parts of the world, there were always those trying to reproduce or recreate their weapons, but all had failed.

That was because they did not have the giants to launch projectiles at such great distances, nor did they have the wildfire formula that Jon had stabilized. Many rumors said that wealthy people of Essos had already sent spies to King’s Landing to try to steal it, and some had even managed to steal or purchase the formula from the guild of alchemists, but no version had the stability of Jon’s creation. It was far too dangerous without proper handling.

He had done this when he was only nine namedays old, studying the concept without ever seeing the formula already made, while creating something entirely new himself. Jon later developed a formula such that even if the ships caught fire, the wildfire inside them would not explode; for that, an element had to be added to the liquid, one they only placed in when it was truly meant to be used.

The three ships finally began having their ropes removed, pulling away from the port, and started to drift off, the Arctican banner fluttering in the wind, catching a fine breeze at the hour when they left the harbor’s strength behind.

“Come on, everyone, we’ll have a good journey these next few days until home!” shouted the captain.

“Do you think the king is still in the North?” Mearin dared to comment, sighing. At last, she was returning to Arctic, and she longed to see her family again.

“I believe he is. Even though we can no longer see his eagle, I feel its eyes are still upon us. And Jon cannot use his powers beyond the Wall.” Arya replied with a touch of melancholy, as she watched White Harbor fading into the distance.

“So, princess, what will be the first thing you do when you arrive back in Arctic?” asked Mearin, with a hint of joy.

“There are so many things… Mearin, but surely I would like to see Lyanna and Jon’s other children.” said Arya.

“Well, that doesn’t sound bad. I would like to see the king’s children too. We already have eight princes and princesses…” Mearin smiled, while Arya returned her smile, though she closed it off with her next words.

“I would also like to see Hilla’s parents.” she said—and at the mention of the late friend’s name, both fell into an uneasy silence.

Arya still hated it as one of the worst moments of her life. She had lost a companion in Volantis, right before her eyes. How could she not feel it still? Hilla bleeding and dying in her arms… That image would haunt her for the rest of her life. She had never returned to Arctic since the journey to Yi-Ti, so she had not spoken with Hilla’s parents. She wanted to apologize, carrying the guilt for the death of the old companion who had always stood by her, by Mearin, and even by Wind, the child of the forest who had joined them in their mischief.

She had to do it. That was why, upon returning to Arctic, one of the first things she would do was visit the grave of her friend Hilla, whose body Jon had preserved and brought back to be buried in Arctic. Then, she would see her family and beg forgiveness. All she knew was what Jon had written back to her in his letters.

The ships finally began to turn, moving straight into the open sea, while others arriving or departing made way for them. No one wanted to cross paths with those dreaded ships.

The captain had been boasting whenever other captains came to speak with him in recent days, asking about his tales. He had not failed to begin recounting them to those who had gone to Winterfell and to Arya.

He said that all feared the Arctican banners, calling them the “predators of the waters.” He liked to boast and spent part of the journey speaking of how popular he was in the port of White Harbor, even mentioning suspicious invitations he had received from Lord Manderly or of his trips to deliver information from them. But the captain was no fool: he had never accepted, nor even agreed to drink when Wyman’s sons visited them in the port—he would never give away Arctic’s secrets.

In any case, the voyage continued in the following days. They skirted along the coast of the Realm and pressed onward toward the colder waters of the North beyond the Wall, sailing between the continent and Skellige.

Jon accompanied them the entire time, flying across the realm with Vezofēdrur in the skies, though he was busy, stopping at several points throughout the North. The dragon, in his enormous form, had to take care not to draw too much attention, and so usually landed only at night.

There were no major problems, except when he came across a boy from the mountain clans. The child, upon hearing the dragon land and seeing the colossal beast, screamed in terror and fled as though he were about to die. Jon only sighed, hoping that would not cause trouble.

When Arya began passing by the Wall with the three ships, she finally felt she was returning to the North. Then, in turn, Vezofēdrur beat his wings and flew beyond the Wall, leaving the South behind.

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