[Chapter Size: 5100 Words.]

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Third Person POV

North, 299 AC.

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A small line of snow was forming in the region closest to the Wall, while footsteps crushed the thin layer of ice and snow as the group advanced north through that forest.

“In a little over a week, if we’re lucky, we’ll reach the Wall, if we keep this pace,” said the boy named Jojen Reed to the old knight, Ser Barristan Selmy, who served as the group’s leader and main protector.

Thanks to his tactics and the help of Bran and Jojen with their warg abilities, they managed to avoid ambushes or even encounters with the Ironborn, while their goal was to reach the Wall after passing through the Umber lands.

“I understand, let’s continue,” Selmy said, as his eyes turned to the pregnant woman in the group, riding the only horse among them, along with Rickon Stark. “Are you alright?” he asked her.

“I am. I’ve already rested enough, we can keep going for the rest of the day…,” she said, as he nodded. Cassandra was torn; one of her children was at Glover Castle, now surrounded by Ironborn and with no chance of ever reuniting with him, while another was in the south, at war with Robb Stark, her stepson by marriage.

She feared for his safety more than for the blacksmith’s son in Deepwood Motte, and not because of the Lannisters, but because of Lady Stark. After all, she had not had easy past moons with the woman in Winterfell; she had snapped when she discovered that they had married and that Cassandra carried the Stark name and a child, calling her a usurper and accusing her of going against the laws of the Seven gods because Lord Stark was already married.

Lady Catelyn was expelled from Winterfell for the second time after that, and Cassandra feared that she might do something in revenge for the events, that she might hurt her son or send him to his death, even though Cassandra knew that Robb would never do such a thing. They were not enemies, but Lady Catelyn had shown herself to be a bitter woman, full of resentment.

They continued on their path for some time. Tension carried them through the white, but no one complained. It was a somewhat awkward group; it certainly was not a group suited for travel. Because of that, they advanced slowly northward: one horse with a pregnant woman, a child of eight namedays, a crippled boy of twelve to thirteen namedays, two sons of a southern Lord, and two giant wolves. And lastly, the knight carrying the paraplegic boy on his back every day.

They took almost twice as long as normal people would, not to mention that they were traveling on foot. The only one on horseback had to keep a steady pace to carry Cassandra and the group’s supplies.

“Do you think that, from the Watch onward, we can get in touch with the King of Arctic?” Cassandra commented, asking Jojen.

“Yes. As I said before… I know he contacted the Watch a month ago. He already knows what’s happening in the south,” Jojen said, while his sister stayed beside him in silence, continuing to follow them at the same pace, but ready for any combat while keeping her bow within reach.

“Did you see this in the visions you’ve been reporting?” asked Ser Barristan Selmy, carefully.

The Reed boy and his sister appeared when they were fleeing Winterfell that same night, with Barristan Selmy nearly attacking them, only for them to say that they already knew they were heading north, claiming they had seen it through magic and wanted to help them. Bran recognized them immediately—how could he not? Jojen had been training him after Arya left Winterfell, and the boy had a crush on Meera.

Barristan Selmy had always been skeptical of arcane things. Prince Rhaegar used to ramble about visions and prophecies back when the Targaryens still held the throne, but it was only after he met Jon Arctic, the son of his former prince, that Barristan truly began to see magic. The world had not seemed the same since King Jon Arctic decided to sail south with his fleet for the first time and conduct business—or even before that. After all, there were also the stories about him, like an eight-nameday-old boy killing a dozen adult, experienced bandits alone with an old bow, since one could hardly say he had others with him when he had only farmers at his side.

“Green sight,” Bran corrected the knight.

“Very well, you mentioned that before. So, with this green sight, do we have a chance to get in contact with Prince Rhaegar’s son, your majesty?” Barristan Selmy still asked.

“Yes, and it’s best that we go to the Night’s Watch, hoping to find the king there. They trust King Arctican ever since the new Lord Commander learned of his true identity.”

“Ser Alistair Thorne… well, he was always a legalist,” Selmy commented, understanding the situation.

“And what about reaching the king’s realm? It’s not safe for us to advance north of the Wall,” Meera commented for the first time.

“Of course not. The former Lord Commander perished along with half of the Night’s Watch,” Cassandra said this time, opposing any mention of trying to go there or even to Arctic, even though it was easy to locate now, with the blue glow it emitted in the autumn sky.

“But the Night’s Watch isn’t a safe place either,” Meera added.

Barristan Selmy agreed. She was a young woman and there was another pregnant woman, and he could not take care of the children and them at the same time while being the only one who could properly wield a sword among the group. He did not know how the Watch would react to having two women with them, without enough security.

“We can warn the Wall about our situation and then stay at Umber Castle,” Bran said.

“I don’t think it’s that simple, but we have to stay somewhere…,” Meera said.

That sounded reasonable, but it was not that simple.

Cassandra’s gaze turned forward, while Rickon was silently clinging to her arms as she guided the horse with the reins. He was there, not interacting with the group, which had left her quite worried over the past few days.

Since he left Winterfell, he had fallen completely silent, barely speaking. How could one not worry? To be honest, she knew this had begun even before that. All the deaths the boy had witnessed in Winterfell, the people he knew, were dying right in front of him, leaving a deep mark on him.

“Do you think Jon will show up?” Bran asked, watching Jojen over Barristan Selmy’s back, with Jojen walking beside the knight.

“Yes. Your cousin stated he would appear in a month to learn more news from the south, while he remained focused on Arctic and their war. After that meeting. He returned carrying food and resources for the Night’s Watch atop his dragon, he also delivered to the Free Folk ways to arm themselves against the dead, throwing them down from his black dragon, and then he left,” Jojen said.

Dragon… It was a word Barristan Selmy was not accustomed to. Knowing that Rhaegar’s son had not just one dragon, but two that he rode, had left him speechless when he first heard it from Bran. Those rumors about dragons fighting in the middle of the north certainly had some truth to them.

Cassandra shuddered upon hearing that. “We’re leaving one war and entering another against the dead and the White Walkers. I don’t feel even a little comfortable with all of you believing this and with the fact that we’re going to that place. Wouldn’t it be easier to stay in the south?” she questioned, worried.

“Arctic is safer than the north, believe me,” Jojen said. “I saw it in my visions. They are winning the war against the dead, and it is about to end.”

“I intend to go to His Majesty no matter what, even if I must cross the lands beyond the Wall…,” Selmy said. “I need to apologize to him.”

“The blame for my father’s death was not yours,” Bran said. “You tried to rescue him.”

“Yes, but I failed. Even with help,” Selmy commented. After all, Volantis had also sent a group of people to rescue him, since the Red Religion was openly in favor of Jon Arctic.

However, the City Watch, the Kingsguard, and the Faith Militant thwarted the plans, and Barristan had to leave the city after that. He was sworn to Robert Baratheon and had declared that it was an assassination. Because of that, he left the White Banks on his own, making the decision to go to the land where the true king was, whom he had already identified as Rhaegar’s son since they first met in that naval battle, when the royal fleet was destroyed by Arctic’s fleet.

Barristan Selmy listened to the stories about Lord Stark’s death and his declaration to all seven kingdoms, feeling shame for not having been able to save him. He had nothing to offer the king, only himself and his word: someone who had left the Kingsguard in search of swearing again before the Targaryens, and who could be refused.

Thus, he came north and learned of the Greyjoys launching their attacks all along the coast of Westeros. Barristan Selmy had a plan to try to seek out Arctic on his own, advancing beyond the Wall and attempting to enter this war alongside Rhaegar’s son. He had heard much about the stories of the Long Night, which Arya Stark herself confirmed in Winterfell, and the king’s absence meant only one thing.

He had also heard of this even in Rhaegar’s time. Though he was not Rhaegar’s main confidant—that role belonged to Ser Arthur Dayne—he had heard mentions from the prince himself about the battle against the dead that would take place in the future, even back then. And that, despite not being the Aegon the prince said was chosen to fight the dead, Jon Arctic ended up being this other Aegon, the son of the She-Wolf of the North.

When he learned that Winterfell had been taken, upon arriving in White Harbor, Ser Barristan Selmy departed for it in hopes of at least saving some Stark, trying to atone for not having saved the Stark who died in King’s Landing.

“Come to think of it, will Mors Umber, who is now overseeing Umber Castle, let us leave?” Bran interrupted Barristan Selmy’s thoughts at that moment, and everyone grew pensive over it.

“Probably not,” Jojen replied with regret. “He will imprison you at the Last Hearth and will not let you go to the Wall. That’s why going there would be complicated…”

“So even if we go to the Last Hearth when we return from the Wall, it will also be a problem to leave…,” Bran murmured.

“If Jon comes to get us, we’ll simply go with him. He’ll take us to Arya, she knows what to do, she always does,” Rickon said for the first time, with anger and fear. He loved Cassandra like a mother who had replaced his own when she left, but Arya was the smartest, she always knew what to do.

“I don’t think it’s that simple, little Stark,” the knight said. “You are now princes of the Kingdom of the North whom everyone believes to be dead. If you appear at the gates of the Last Hearth…”

“They might detain us to keep us for Robb, right?” Bran murmured, though he knew it wasn’t that simple.

“It’s very likely that Lord Umber will not let you leave, even more so if Your Majesty appears to take you beyond the Wall.”

“Jon is our kin. He won’t do anything to hurt us—”

“No…” Cassandra interrupted Bran. “I know you trust your cousin, but now the North is independent. No northern lord will give up handing you over to a foreign king, even if he shares your blood. After all, they would practically be handing over valuable hostages to a possible enemy…” She gave her opinion with a somewhat dark expression.

“Jon would never—”

“This is politics,” Barristan Selmy said, interrupting Bran for the second time. “Unfortunately, that is how the world works. No matter how much you trust His Majesty, no lord in his right mind would do such a thing, even if he holds him in good regard thanks to your sister, who traveled through the North with her father and brother at that time.”

“So we can’t go to the Last Hearth either, in the end, so that they don’t lock us in rooms waiting for Robb’s opinion in the south…,” Bran concluded the obvious, a little upset.

“You are your brother’s son. Obviously, they would never willingly hand you over to a foreign king,” Jojen repeated Selmy’s same argument. Bran nodded, already understanding that part.

Even so, Bran seemed sulky, and the whole group fell silent as they continued advancing through the forest. Bran’s gaze went to the trees, and he noticed a bird staring at him. He fixed his eyes on the bird, feeling a strange sensation in the small creature’s eyes. Suddenly, a few more began to appear over the next minutes, perching on branches along the path the group was taking.

There were more than ten birds walking and flying through the trees ten minutes later. They stopped to stare at them, but never left the group. Bran looked at everyone; most seemed not to notice it at all, but Jojen was also staring at the birds.

“You noticed it too?” Jojen said, turning to him.

“Since the beginning,” Bran murmured. He had the ability to warg and could also help Barristan Selmy along with Jojen, informing him of what was always ahead, taking over Summer’s mind to scour the northern forests along the path they followed.

Despite still learning, Bran had good knowledge thanks to Arya, and he could feel when the birds gave him that sensation—there was another warg watching through the birds’ eyes.

“What are you two talking about?” Barristan Selmy turned a narrow look toward them.

“We’re being followed,” Jojen said. That immediately made everyone in the group look around.

“Ironborn?” Barristan Selmy murmured, concerned.

Jojen shook his head. “No. There’s a warg watching us.”

“So it really is another warg,” Bran murmured.

“Through the trees there are at least about fifteen birds watching us at the same time. They’re following us, even in the sky—there are three of them flying up there as well,” Jojen began to point. “And only one warg, a very powerful one. There shouldn’t be anyone like that south of the Wall.”

The answer was obvious. There was no one well trained in warg abilities south of the Wall; besides the Reed family and the Stark family, there was practically no one else. After all, most born wargs only had strange dreams and never delved deeper into it, that is when they managed to form a bond at all, which was difficult—these were rare abilities and conditions to possess.

“I feel like it’s Jon,” Bran said carefully.

Jojen looked at him, surprised. “You think so?” he asked, eyes wide. He had certainly spent time with Jon, seeing the past through green sight, but he did not know that same sensation Bran was feeling at that moment.

“It’s him. I’m sure,” Bran said, in a more excited tone. Jon was there. He remembered very well that the Wall blocked his powers, which was why he could not use his warg abilities through it. But if he could do this now, it meant he was on the same side of the Wall as they were — just as Arya had explained.

“Let’s keep going. If it’s real, he’ll come to us later,” Barristan Selmy said. Despite still not fully understanding how this kind of magic worked, it was more viable to continue onward.

And, two hours later, something came from the sky, startling the group as they heard the thunderous sound of massive wings. When they looked up, they saw an enormous white dragon approaching them, passing over the group and advancing toward the end of the forest. There was no place to land there.

The horse Cassandra had, strangely enough, did not become frightened or afraid of falling. The animal made no movement in response to the dragon, as if it were ignoring it, while everyone else felt their hearts leap into their throats. Jon took care not to frighten the horse by entering the animal’s mind, preventing it from throwing the pregnant woman, who was still carrying her possible youngest cousin.

“What was that?!” Rickon was terrified.

“It’s his dragon…” Jojen said.

“Yes! This one is white, that means it’s Eragon!” Bran said.

The wolves moved ahead of the group, and the group did not need to say anything more than to quicken their steps, heading toward a more open area, where the dragon had gone. And there was Jon, dismounting the giant dragon and approaching the forest.

Jon saw the group emerging from the forest with some caution, most of them never having imagined encountering a real dragon, a giant forty-five meters long… While the green eyes of the King of Arctic were fixed on the boy on Barristan Selmy’s back, King Arctican let out a relieved sigh and opened a warm smile.

“Bran, you and your brother are alive… I feared the worst until I reached Winterfell,” Jon said as he approached.

Barristan Selmy maintained a careful look, but Jon did not seem to pay any attention to him at that moment, ignoring the knight’s scrutinizing gaze and the glint of interest upon seeing the Valyrian steel armor Jon wore.

Jon stepped closer, touching his cousin’s head without ceremony, resting his forehead against his.

“I’m glad you’re alive, cousin.” Bran broke into a smile, larger than any he had worn since Winterfell had been taken by Theon — or even since his father had traveled south in search of his sister — it seemed that his worry had finally lessened.

Jon was there, and there was no one better to deal with their problems than him.

Jon looked to the side and saw the woman who had dismounted the horse, pregnant, picking up little Rickon in her arms and stepping forward, while Jon watched him the entire time. Rickon did not even remember him. Lady Stark had been pregnant with Rickon when Jon left Winterfell at eight namedays.

When he visited the castle again, Rickon was just over a year old. He did not remember him, only having heard of his brother. Meanwhile, his mother and even Robb had spoken ill of Jon for many years. Arya and his father always spoke well of him. When Arya returned, she made a point of telling stories about Jon’s adventures.

“You must be Rickon,” Jon said, since Lady Stark had never allowed Jon to see the child. Officially, this was the first time Jon had met him in person.

The boy stared at him as Jon knelt to be at the same height.

“Are you our brother?” he asked carefully.

“Actually, your cousin,” Jon said in a gentle tone with a closed-lip smile.

“Did you come to help us?” he asked again, still cautiously.

“Yes. I did not plan to come south of the Wall, but I heard and saw what happened to Winterfell and learned what happened to you, so I came here immediately. Even though it was not in my plans, I could not abandon my blood, nor leave it without proper vengeance. That was what I intended to do before learning that you were alive,” Jon said.

Rickon was only eight years old. He simply trusted Jon’s words and finally stepped closer, as Jon opened his arms in invitation. The boy moved forward and broke down crying.

“Arya… being with you…? I miss her… I want to see her,” Rickon said, and Jon let the boy soak his armor with his tears, gently patting his head with the Valyrian steel gauntlet.

“She is in Arctic, safe. I intend to take you to her. She does not even know what is happening in the south, beyond your father’s death and the wars beginning with your proclaimed kings and claimants to the throne… She will certainly be happy to see that you are going to join her,” Jon said, making the invitation to take them to Arctic clear.

Rickon kept crying, saying how much he wanted to see her. Jon hugged him and lifted him up, while his gaze turned to the older woman, who was watching him cautiously.

“You must be Cassandra, now a Stark, after marrying my uncle before the old gods,” Jon said. If the marriage had been before the Seven, he would not have cared, but before the old gods, he had to respect it.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she murmured, lowering her head, not knowing exactly how Jon should be addressed. On one hand, he was a king; on the other, the North had become independent, and Robb, her stepson, had become king.

Even so, she could not deny that the man before her was a king after all, and her nephew by marriage.

“Do not fear anything, Cassandra. You carry the last child of my uncle, making him my cousin and my blood. I want to take you to Arctic, where you will be safe,” Jon explained. She nodded, seeing that Bran and even Rickon were willing to go to the realm beyond the Wall, their eyes shining with relief.

Jon then turned to the others.

“Hello, Jojen and Meera Reed. It’s good to see you again, and I thank you for helping my cousins this far,” Jon said with a warm smile, a feeling far better than the uncontrolled fury he had felt hours earlier upon receiving the news of the boys’ deaths… Jon also had nothing against the Reed family, as he had liked them since he met them, and Jojen had accompanied him while seeing the past of his mother.

Jon then turned to the last one he had not yet greeted, Barristan Selmy, who watched him with care and expectation.

“I saw your letter, the one you gave to Arya when she left Winterfell to deliver it to me,” Jon said calmly.

Barristan Selmy knew who Jon was and never told the king about his discoveries; on the contrary, he always showed a strong desire to keep Rhaegar’s last son alive. He was bound by an oath, but now, with King Robert Baratheon dead, nothing bound him anymore, and he turned his back on the new king, who was later declared a bastard by Lord Stark himself.

Having an illegitimate child on the throne only made leaving the oath easier. So he came now to seek the true king.

“I am grateful for what you did, for your actions. You caused a riot in Winterfell that made it possible for the children to escape, and you kept them safe. I, Arya, and Benjen will owe you a debt,” Jon said.

“I did nothing beyond my duty, Your Majesty. I wish to serve you and swear my life to you, if you so desire,” he said clearly.

There was a burning desire in the knight’s eyes that even surprised the King of Arctic. There had been other eyes like that: Ducken had been the first to kneel and declare himself as Kingsguard after receiving a mission from the Old Gods at that time. And there were also others in Arctic who would clearly follow him into hell to fight at his side. But, officially, south of the Wall, Barristan Selmy was the first.

“We will talk about that in my realm,” he said calmly, taking a step back and looking at everyone. “I intend to take you, and as you can see, I am already taking a certain group with me.” Jon pointed to the dragon, and for the first time the group began to pay attention to the enormous creature.

“This is Eragon,” Bran said, utterly dazzled, knowing Arya’s stories. He had seen Jon’s black dragon, larger than that one, but he knew that the white dragon was Jon’s favorite, the first one he had.

“Yes,” Jon said, as he saw the two giant wolves approach and crouched down again, still with Rickon in his arms, to pet them. They accepted it easily, like two dogs seeing their owner, leaving the Stark boys surprised.

The group also paid attention to the saddle. There were six adults and three children strapped in with ropes so they would not fall during the journey. All of them wore warm clothes to endure the cold of the high altitudes of the northern sky.

Barristan Selmy looked at the dragon and then turned his attention back to Jon, feeling a spark of pride at seeing a Targaryen returning to his glory… More than any other he had ever seen in his long life. Jon surpassed them all, even in posture and aura, and Barristan had seen his share of kings and princes.

But this one had more than any other could dream of… He truly held the greatest power of House Targaryen, mounted on a dragon, and another one as well! According to what he had heard, he also possessed a black dragon.

No one in the south knew this; not even he had any idea that there were still dragons under Arctic’s control all this time. There had been rumors of a giant white bird flying over the city of Arctic, described as a dragon. Those conversations existed among the Arcticans themselves in the ports of Essos, but no one believed them. There were also rumors about a battle between a white dragon and a black dragon in the north, which some people had witnessed, but no one gave them credit, despite green flames having burned entire forests near the western coast, with accusations that Jon Arctic had done it with wildfire, since his shield had been found. But no dragons were taken seriously, even though the witnesses swore they had seen them.

And Barristan Selmy could understand everyone’s skepticism… Who would believe they had seen a dragon wearing full armor, fighting a black dragon three times larger, as big as a mountain, according to the people?

Now he was witnessing a dragon, a Targaryen upon it, wearing Valyrian steel armor. His eyes settled on the sword, stunned as he recognized the hilt.

“Blackfyre,” Jon said, seeing the knight’s surprised expression fixed on the sword.

“That is incredible,” he murmured, and Jon smiled. “Well, I found it hidden in Essos, probably concealed long before you faced the man with two heads, what was his name… Maelys Blackfyre, the Monstrous,” Jon said with some respect.

After all, that man was Barristan Selmy, the Bold. He had faced the last Blackfyre of the male line, who was trying to raise men to fight for the throne in Essos. Barristan Selmy had faced him on the other continent, with Maelys having his neck pierced by the Bold’s blade.

Jon had many thoughts about the knight. He had admired him as a child… Barristan Selmy was certainly a legend, and having him was not a bad idea. The thought of making him the one hundred and first Kingsguard of Arctic appealed to him greatly, even though there were some vacancies after deaths during the war against the dead, but the position still felt symbolic. Still, he would speak with him and decide that in Arctic.

“Well, let’s go. We need to tie you to Eragon and put coats and blankets on you so you won’t be too cold up in the sky. We’re going back to my Kingdom, you will be safe… Regardless of what comes with the division of the North against my birthright to the Iron Throne… I swear by the old gods that I will not use you against the North, and my intention is only that you stay alive. You may return south whenever you wish, you will be delivered wherever you want. So I ask that you trust me,” Jon declared.

The group did not pull back, and Jon led them closer to Eragon with care. The dragon did not mind much; he was far more docile than Vezofēdrur. Jon instructed them and helped them climb up the steps, while they greeted the others who were already there, still a bit nervous about flying on a dragon until moments ago — almost all of them, as there were a few quite excited, shouting that it was an incredible experience and that they wanted to repeat it.

They had to leave everything behind: their horses, the shelter, and even the Icehill farm forever, to head toward a kingdom he had built and about which they had heard so much.

Jon placed blankets over his cousins, larger coats and cloaks on Cassandra, as well as giving warmer clothes to Barristan Selmy and the Reed siblings, tying them so they could balance against one another. There was no saddle for everyone, so the ropes were a way to keep them from falling.

Rickon did not want to let go of him, clinging to Jon as if he would solve all the problems they were facing. Jon placed the boy in front of him to keep him safe and comfortable.

The wolves were also positioned in a way that the stronger men would hold them in their laps, with Bran and Jojen holding them from the sides. Meera also had to keep Bran in front of her, so he would not fall due to the condition of his leg.

There was a silent question in Bran’s eyes since he saw him, obviously related to his legs. That would be discussed in Arctic.

Eragon finally began to fly, with frightened screams from Meera, Cassandra, Rickon, and Bran, while Barristan Selmy was visibly nervous along with Jojen.

Soon, they reached a high altitude and followed against the northern wind, with Eragon always flying smoothly. The journey took a bit longer to arrive, but it was necessary to ensure everyone’s safety, since it was a fragile position and there were children.

It took some time, but the Wall was finally crossed. Later, Arctic came into view, as Eragon began to lower his altitude.

Everyone there ignored the strange storm in the north and witnessed the Kingdom of Arctic for the first time, with Jon already accustomed to the reaction everyone had when seeing the place he had built for the first time.

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