[Chapter Size: 2700 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Winterfell, 292 AC, At the some moment.

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A medium-sized group was marching to Winterfell, consisting of giants, men from beyond the Wall, and dwarves. All were equipped with high-end gear, while wagons laden with goods were brought by them.

Some noble soldiers from various houses had decided to accompany this group, which surprised everyone with its origin from beyond the Wall. Thus, mistrust arose among the Northerners and the Articans. Some members of the old tribes from the north of the Wall, before entering Artica, looked north with disdain, knowing their realm was superior to those kneelers.

The dwarves ended up beating some Northerners who thought they could handle the small men, but there were no fatalities, just some broken bones and noses. As the group neared Winterfell, everyone was startled at the idea of giants approaching.

Ned had to calm everyone in the castle, while Arya jumped for joy at the approaching giants, and Catelyn was terrified that the bastard’s exercise was real.

The gate was being closed, but Ned immediately prevented this and just looked at Jon. “Just make your men behave, don’t scare the castle more than it’s already scared,” Lord Stark practically pleaded with Jon, who nodded in agreement.

Jon left the castle and mounted his wolf outside to meet his men. As he approached, all the men stopped and slammed their spears and hammers into the ground as a salute to their leader, startling all the other soldiers from the houses that had accompanied them from the North.

Jon greeted everyone and asked them to follow to the castle. Thus, the group marched with the addition of the child atop the wolf. The gate was not closed, and Jon entered with the first giants, while the entire castle turned out to watch them with eyes of fear and fascination.

Ned was the only one to welcome them, as Catelyn made sure to lock Arya and Bran, the most enthusiastic, away. The group began to enter, and the first were impressive: the giants, colossal beings of striking appearance, walked with majestic dignity, holding a giant spear and a shield the size of three men. The scene was almost surreal, with these legendary creatures peacefully entering the gates of Winterfell.

The guards of Winterfell, under Lord Stark’s command, were alert but showed no hostility. They had been informed by Lord Stark about the arrival of the giants and the gold, despite the fright when everyone saw the group. The presence of these imposing beings caused a great stir among the castle’s residents and the inhabitants of Winterfell. Most had never seen a giant before, and curiosity overcame initial fear, even from a distance.

As the giants’ march entered, other groups followed behind them: small men in their wagons, all armed and holding heavy hammers, apparently even with Eldenmetal. A large group of men also entered the castle on horses, all wearing the same armor as the other two groups, made of Eldenmetal and with the symbol of Artica on their chests.

As the group filled the courtyard, everyone was alarmed by their organization and wealth, watching with a mix of fear and fascination. Whispers circulated among the onlookers, many still struggling to believe what they saw. The question in the air was clear and unsettling: “How can a boy of just 11 years command this group with the colossi?” They were creatures of legends, beings from a forgotten era, and now they marched under the command of a young man many in Winterfell remembered as a shy, reserved boy, and even a thief.

What many there did not know was that the giants before them were just a fraction of

what Jon Snow had managed to unite. They would deny reality if they knew that Jon actually had a force of 500 giants, unable to imagine the fantasy of a boy with such power in his hands.

Arya and Bran screamed with bright eyes, trying to escape from the hands of the servants holding them to greet the soldiers from their brothers’ stories and the legends of the north; they were real and were right in front of them.

The expressions of the other Starks, like Sansa, Robb, and Catelyn, reflected a mix of fear, envy, and concern, while Theon was not there to see it all as he was in the infirmary drinking poppy milk to ease the pain from his arm broken by Jon. The entrance of the giants, humans, and dwarves into Winterfell, laden with wagons carrying gold, attracted looks of astonishment and admiration. The gold had already been shaped into Westerosi dragons, glittering in the sunlight, creating a spectacle of wealth and power few in Winterfell had ever witnessed before.

Lord Eddard Stark, realizing the need for swift action, ordered some of his men to organize the transfer of the gold to the Stark vault. The soldiers quickly approached the wagons given by the dwarves and began moving them, after gathering the courage to approach the giants.

“Where might we stay this night, Lord Stark?” Jon asked atop his wolf, he had to be respectful to his father in public too.

“You may stay in the castle, in the courtyard, there are tents for the giants,” Ned asked.

“Yes, all my men are equipped,” Jon spoke with conviction.

“Okay, Ser Rodrick, I need you to suspend tomorrow’s training in the courtyard,” Ned turned to the master-at-arms.

“It will be done, Lord Stark,” Ser Rodrick nodded, still eyeing Jon’s giants and men cautiously.

“Jon!!! Are these your giants!? They are so cool!!!!” Arya ran towards the group.

“ARYA STARK! RETURN TO THE CASTLE IMMEDIATELY!” Catelyn shouted in terror, but the girl paid no heed.

“It’s alright,” Ned said, preventing any guard or servant from grabbing his daughter at his side.

“They are so cool!!” She exclaimed in admiration, looking at the giant men who gazed back at her with curious eyes.

“They’re real! I told you Jon was telling the truth!” Bran also appeared, fascinated by the giants.

“I’ll take them to the courtyard then, if that’s alright, Lord Stark?” Jon spoke and Ned nodded.

“Yes, you can move them,” Ned said.

Jon, accompanied by Bran and Arya who caught a ride on Ghost with him, led his group to the castle courtyard. He took this time to greet them in their language, and the giants responded, making Arya and Bran look at Jon with fascinated eyes.

Ned Stark watched the scene from a distance, impressed by Jon’s leadership skills. He couldn’t help feeling a mix of pride and surprise seeing his adoptive son interact so skillfully with creatures most people would find terrifying, much better than the last time he saw years ago.

The delivery of the gold and cargo was carried out without incident. Jon’s soldiers, whether giants, men, or dwarves, all began filling the training yard with tents of various sizes to fit them. After everything was ready, it was nightfall, and Jon asked his father if they could have a feast among themselves, which made the lord of Winterfell nod as long as there was no incident, since Ned didn’t want to deal with a drunk and unruly giant, and Jon promised that nothing like that would happen among them.

Jon asked everyone to get organized and they quickly went to fetch things from the wagon, filling the center of the camp where everyone would fit. The Stark soldiers just looked on curiously at the banquet style of this strange, cheerful, and organized

group.

As the courtyard of Winterfell transformed into a campsite for Jon’s men, giants, and dwarves, the atmosphere began to change. The sun was setting, casting the sky in shades of orange and purple.

Jon, amidst the preparations, directed his men efficiently, assigning tasks and ensuring everything was ready for the feast. The giants, with their enormous hands, handled barrels of drink and piles of food with surprising ease, while the dwarves, agile and skilled, prepared the fires for roasting meat.

Arya and Bran, now free from Catelyn’s watch, ran among the giants, fascinated by the presence of these legendary creatures. They helped as they could, carrying small items and chatting animatedly with the new visitors.

The center of the courtyard was reserved for the banquet. Large wooden tables were set up, surrounded by sturdy benches enough to accommodate the giants. Torches were lit around the space, creating a warm and illuminated atmosphere under the starry night.

Jon’s men brought food from the wagons, displaying an impressive variety of meats, breads, cheeses, and fruits. Barrels of beer and wine were arranged in a corner, ready to be served.

As the feast began, music and laughter filled the air. While the people of the castle ate in the main hall, three children, a giant wolf, six giants, fifteen dwarves, and thirty men created a large bonfire in the courtyard, forming a grand festival as many curious onlookers watched from the castle and atop the wall. Under the starlight and the glow of the torches, the banquet organized by Jon’s group brought to life a celebration never before seen within the walls of Winterfell. The warmth of the large central fire radiated out, while music and laughter echoed through the night air.

The giants, seated on reinforced benches, enjoyed large pieces of roasted meat and fruits, holding them with their hands and biting with satisfaction. The dwarves, energetic and cheerful, circulated among their peers, offering beer and wine from their barrels, while sharing stories and jokes.

Jon, seated with Arya and Bran, watched everything with a satisfied smile. His wolf, Ghost, rested beside them, observing the scene with curious eyes. The three siblings shared pieces of bread, meat, and cheese, chatting animatedly about the feats of the giants and the skills of the dwarves.

As the night progressed, the dwarves, known for their love of music and dance, began to sing. Their voices, strong and melodious, rang out with old songs – some cheerful, others melancholic, but all filled with stories and legends. They stamped their feet and clapped their hands, creating a rhythm that invited everyone to join the celebration.

The guards of Winterfell and the inhabitants of the castle, drawn by the music and the festivity, gathered around the courtyard, watching with admiration. Some dared to join in, learning dance steps from the dwarves or simply enjoying the music and food.

Ned Stark, watching from a high window, couldn’t help but smile at the sight, as strange as it was to his life. Jon had brought not only wealth to Winterfell but also peoples who previously seemed impossible to exist and coexist. He even wondered where the dwarves had learned to sing in such a way.

“Hahahaha! This is fun!” Arya exclaimed, listening to the music end.

“Another one!” Bran shouted.

“Yes, another one!” Arya echoed at his side.

“You hear that, boys, the children want another song!” said a dwarf, cheerful with drink, and began to sing.

“In the North, under the moonlight,

Dwarves sing with their raw voices.

The song echoes, strong and old,

Telling tales of the land that welcomes us.”

“In forge and mine, our hands labor,”

As they swing their hammers in the air.

“In ancient mountains, where secrets harbor,”

Feet stamping, their mugs they raise in cheer.

“With hammer and chisel, the stone we sing,”

Laughing loudly, they challenge one another.

“In each spark, life we cling,”

Dancing steps, in circles they gather.

“In taverns, we toast with joy,”

Tossing food, in a merry game they delight.

“Our strong beer, our daily bread,”

They sing in unison, with great ecstasy.

“We laugh and sing, with no fear of tomorrow,”

Among the dwarves, a vigorous dance begins.

“For in dwarves’ veins, runs the mountain’s marrow,”

With each verse, higher the celebration ascends.

“On long paths, we march,”

Tossing high food, with skill they catch.

“With our steady feet, we never tire,”

In laughter and song, their stories they inspire.

“Loyal and brave, true friends are we,”

A toast they make, amid festive gazes.

“In the heart of dwarves, no fear or despair,”

With infectious joy, their sincerity amazes.

“Under the starlight, in the cold night,”

They dance and sing, in pure magic.

“Our music resonates, in pure harmony,”

Under Winterfell’s moon, their festivity radiates.

“Together we celebrate, under Winterfell’s sky,”

The dwarves continue, with their faithful spirit.

“For we are dwarves, children of earth and metal,”

The song ends, but the festivity is immortal.

It was a spectacle for all who witnessed this scene, with many clapping, especially Arya and Bran.

“Now we need to hear our king sing!” said a dwarf, signaling for Jon to sing a song, and many looked at the boy with expectation, who eventually yielded to the pressure.

“Give me my guitar, I hope you brought it,” Jon called out.

“But of course we brought it, we take it wherever you go!” said one of them laughing, bringing the instrument.

Even Ned watched attentively when he saw Jon take up a strange instrument, much larger than a lute, Arya and Bran at his side, looking surprised at Jon and his guitar, with some anticipation. Jon settled it on his lap and skillfully strummed the strings, his voice rising in the midst of the silence that had formed, singing a song about the Starks and the North, a melody speaking of bravery, loyalty, and the beauty of the icy lands.

“Song of the Wolf of the North

In the heart of winter, under grey skies,

A wolf was born, in ancient woods,

With eyes of ice, and a courageous heart,

Guardian of the North, where the winds blow.”

“Oh, wolf of the North, run free and strong,

Under the silver moon, where the Starks call home.

With snow falling, hear the wolf howl,

For Winterfell, where the brave never fall.”

“Through the weirwoods, where secrets lie,

The wolf walks, between shadow and light.

In snowy fields, his footprints mark,

Tales of Starks, and their fierce legacy.”

“Oh, wolf of the North, run free and strong,

Under the silver moon, where the Starks call home.

With snow falling, hear the wolf howl,

For Winterfell, where the brave never fall.”

“In halls of stone, near the shining fire,

The wolf finds shelter, and tales to tell.

Of warrior ancestors, and battles fought,

For love of the North, and its icy lands.”

“When night falls, and the stars shine,

The wolf howls, his divine song.

Through fields and woods, his voice echoes,

Reminding all, that the North remembers.”

“Oh, wolf of the North, run free and strong,

Under the silver moon, where the Starks call home.

With snow falling, hear the wolf howl,

For Winterfell, where the brave never fall.”

“In the land of the Starks, under the northern sky,

The wolf of the North, eternal in its design.

Guardian and brother, in the snow to shine,

In the heart of the North, forever to reign.”

Arya and Bran, seated near Jon, listened in silence, completely absorbed by the music. The feast’s guests also quieted down, enchanted by the unexpected performance. Even the giants and dwarves, with their cultural differences, were united by Jon’s universal music and his magical voice.

Ghost, calmly lying beside Jon, seemed to enjoy the music too, with his attentive and serene eyes. The presence of the giant wolf beside Jon as he played and sang a Stark-themed song added a mystical feel to the atmosphere, as if nature itself was listening.

When Jon finished playing, a respectful silence followed, before being broken by warm applause. Arya and Bran looked at him with admiration and pride, and Jon’s soldiers expressed their appreciation.

Ned looked on from a distance with a strange expression, caught by Jon’s music, but slightly cautious as his voice reminded him of Rhaegar Targaryen.

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