[Chapter Size: 2700 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Winterfell, 292 AC, The next day.

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The next day in Winterfell, the presence of Jon’s dwarves began to cause some tension. These beings, although small in stature, had surprising strength and liveliness. They were not only skilled in battle, but also had a strong personality, and at times, were provocative when they weren’t drunk, as bad mood always dominated them.

As the day progressed, small disagreements arose between the dwarves and some of Winterfell’s men. What started as verbal provocation quickly turned into physical conflict. The dwarves, despite their size, proved formidable in hand-to-hand combat, using their fists to knock down their opponents.

The men of Winterfell, caught off guard by the strength and agility of the dwarves, found themselves at a disadvantage. One by one, the northerners fell before the swift and precise blows of the small warriors.

Jon, noticing the turmoil, quickly intervened. With an authority that contrasted with his young age, he reprimanded his men, reminding them of the respect and hospitality they owed to Winterfell’s guests. He also spoke to the dwarves, asking them to moderate their actions and respect the rules of House Stark.

Jon’s intervention calmed things down. The dwarves, although still showing an air of defiance, respected the young king’s authority and ceased the conflict. The men of Winterfell, in turn, withdrew, a bit humiliated by the unexpected beating.

This incident, although minor, reached Lord Stark with worrying words. Saying that this was only the beginning and that these people should go away, which was said by his wife, something Ned had already expected knowing her.

Ned sighed and called Jon, who went to his solar knowing that it was time to leave Winterfell. Although he had missed his brothers and father, he knew that his presence continued to generate more tensions now with a group of giants and armored soldiers.

Ned looked at Jon with a mix of pride and melancholy. “Jon,” he began, “you’ve grown more than I could have imagined. You’ve become a leader, a warrior… a man in every sense of the word with just 11 namedays. I know things haven’t been easy for you here, but I hope you know you’ll always be a Stark in your heart.”

Jon nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude. “I know, father. And I thank you for everything you’ve done for me. But now, I have my own path to follow. The Arctic awaits me, and I have responsibilities to my people in the north.”

Ned approached Jon, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Do everything you can, Jon. Not just for the Arctic, but for yourself. You have a great future ahead, and I know you will do extraordinary things.”

The two hugged, a farewell embrace that carried years of unspoken history, affection, and mutual respect. “Always be true to yourself, Jon. And know that Winterfell will always be your home.”

Jon nodded, ignoring that part about home, because he didn’t feel that way here. With those last words of encouragement, Jon turned to leave.

“Wait Jon, there’s one more thing.” Ned suddenly called his attention, and Jon looked at him curiously.

“A few years ago when you crossed the Wall, King Robert came to Winterfell and he really wanted to see you, but you were no longer seen, he asked me to give you a summons to King’s Landing…” Ned spoke cautiously, he didn’t want Jon to go to King’s Landing and he only told him that because Jon had to know that the king on this side of the Wall wanted to see him.

“Ah yes, the Night’s Watch warned me about that as well, well… I’ll give the same answer I gave to the Lord Commander…” Jon spoke calmly. “Your Majesty, with all due respect, you can shove that order up your royal ass.” Jon’s words echoed through Ned’s solar.

…

This bold and disrespectful answer caused a shocked silence for Lord Stark. “Jon! You don’t expect me to say that to the king, you should at least respect him!” Ned spoke in a tone of reprimand, unsure of what to say if Jon spoke like that in public.

“I’m sorry, father. But I’m not part of your kingdom, so he can’t just tell me to go to King’s Landing with a summons. And knowing how greedy the people of King’s Landing are, you should never believe 100% in any letter that comes from there,” Jon spoke calmly.

Ned agreed, knowing the thought was valid. “Jon, I understand your feelings, but you must learn to measure your words, especially in front of the king. The king could launch an attack on Artica.”

“Bff. As if the king had money to move an exercise beyond the Wall,” Jon was somewhat aware of the kingdom’s economic situation.

“Now I’m leaving, hope to see you in a few years.” Jon hugged him once more.

“Alright. Try to keep in touch,” Ned said, and Jon nodded.

Jon went to where he had stored his armor and Ghost’s. It was time to mount them on their bodies again, with Hodor’s help, they easily put it on the wolf.

As Jon’s camp was dismantled and the tents prepared for departure, the atmosphere in Winterfell was charged with mixed emotions. There was a palpable sense of awe as the giants began to move out of the castle with their things.

Jon, determined and focused, supervised the final preparations. Now it was time to return to Artica, the place he now called home.

Before leaving, Jon made one last visit to Old Nan, but someone approached him with great sadness in their eyes. “Let me go with you, Jon. I want to see Artica, I want to be where you are!” Arya said with determination, almost crying.

Jon, looking at his younger sister with a mix of affection and sorrow, tried to explain. “Arya, Artica is a place far from Winterfell, your parents would never let you live in a wild land, even if I tried to explain.”

Arya’s insistence was fierce, her eyes bright with tears and determination. “I can fight, Jon! I can learn and do anything! I don’t want to stay here!”

“I’m sorry, sister… I can’t take you without your parents’ permission, even though I know you would be safe with me,” Jon avoided crying as his sister begged him to take her. “You’re still too young, my little wolf. There will be a time for your own adventures, but now is not that time,” Jon added, but Arya just walked away without looking at him.

Jon watched her walk away with a heavy heart, then turned to visit Old Nan. Finding her in her usual corner, Jon approached with an expression of respect and affection. “Old Nan, I’ve come to say goodbye,” he began, his voice conveying a mix of affection and formality.

Old Nan looked at Jon, her eyes showing a glint of wisdom and nostalgia. “Jon Snow, I’ve seen many Starks come and go, but you… you are something different,” she said with a frail, but emotional voice.

Jon smiled softly. “I’m leaving for Artica, Nan. Would you like to come with us?” Jon asked, remembering their previous conversation.

The old woman nodded, a glint of excitement in her tired eyes. “After seeing the army you command, the stories you tell… Yes, Jon, I would like to see this place called Artica. It seems to be

a place of great wonders and, in my years, what more could I desire than to witness something new and extraordinary before I die, if I die here, I fear for my grandson’s life…” She referred to Hodor and with that accepted Jon’s proposal.

“You will be welcome in Artica, Old Nan. Your wisdom and stories will be a treasure for my people,” Jon said sincerely. “I will arrange for you to have a comfortable journey.”

They talked a bit more, with Jon sharing details about Artica and Old Nan listening attentively, absorbing every word. With Old Nan and Hodor getting into a wagon with their things, Jon turned to his siblings who were crying beside their father.

Jon approached calmly, “Hello little ones, it seems this will be the last time we see each other for a while.”

“Why do you have to go away?! You should live here, this is your home!” Arya exclaimed.

“I’m sorry, my little wolf, but Artica is now the place I belong and have responsibilities, but we will see each other again.”

“How long…?” Bran asked with tears in his eyes and a sad look while crying silently.

“I don’t know, 3, 4, or 5 years, I’ll be busy until then, but I will never forget you, you are my family and I love you.” Jon was sincere.

“So long!!” Arya shouted and started running towards the castle, and Jon looked sadly after her.

“Sorry about that Jon, she shouldn’t have done that,” his father said with a tone of sadness.

Jon nodded sadly and hugged Bran as tightly as he could. After that, he went to Ghost and mounted his giant wolf, heading towards the gate where his group waited, aligned.

“Let’s head north and return to Artica!” Jon gave the order and began to move away from the gates of Winterfell, leading the group.

“He’s sad, isn’t he?”

“Should we talk to him?”

“Should we sing?”

“Stop it, he just said goodbye to his family, his sister ran off without even a hug. Of course, he’s sad…”

“But a song solves problems!”

“And a cigar!”

“Stop it! Just leave him alone.”

On the way, Jon ignored the whispers of the dwarves while leading the group with his wolf, Ghost sensing his sadness. But Jon couldn’t do anything to improve it, just keep moving forward and hope to see his family as soon as he could in the coming years. The Winter Crown he had acquired, now fixed on Ghost’s armor, didn’t bring as much joy as he imagined.

Days passed on the journey, and something strange happened during that time. One day, Jon was a bit dazed by a snowstorm in the middle of summer. The caravan, moving steadily northward, had to stop at Jon’s command.

“Listen, everyone, a storm is coming, we must set up a camp to protect ourselves from it!” He ordered, and everyone began to move.

“Hodor!” Hodor was a bit frightened, but Jon went to him.

“It’s going to be okay, even though something like this shouldn’t happen at this time of year, only when…” Jon stopped for a moment, remembering his past and the strange storm coming. He knew now why the birds of the north could feel it, and he, with his warg, knew these feelings. “It’s going to be okay, Hodor, trust me.” Jon said and moved to start helping set up the camp.

As soon as they set up the camp, with the day darkened by black clouds, the storm hit with force, with snow and wind.

“Everyone stay in your tents until the storm passes!” Jon ordered and he went to his tent.

The storm was shaking his tent canvas.

“Why now…” Jon asked, a bit disturbed beside Ghost, wondering why here and now this strange event was happening.

“

Jon…” Jon heard a familiar voice and opened his eyes, looking around the tent, but there was no one there except his wolf looking at him with an expression of curiosity about his master’s behavior.

“Jon…” Jon heard the voice again and rushed out of the tent, battling against the wind and snow of the storm, his vision obscured.

“WHERE ARE YOU?!” He shouted worriedly, but the only response he heard was the wind, with Ghost coming to his side.

“Jon…” For a third time, his name was called. Jon knew that this person was not here; he heard the voice calling as if it were right next to his ear, but now he sensed where the voice was coming from.

He wasted no time and called Ghost to mount the wolf. 

“Let’s go, buddy, we need to move fast!” Jon said with concern, and they headed south. The cold wind of the storm cut his face as the giant wolf moved agilely through the dense snow. A snowstorm was always an impossible adversary, but Ghost showed unusual dexterity, dodging any obstacle that appeared in their limited visibility. He understood the urgency of his master and moved in that direction.

Snowflakes swirled around them, creating a whirlwind of white and gray that swallowed the dark landscape. Despite the strength of the wind and snow, Ghost advanced determinedly, his steps firm, leaving deep footprints in the snow blanket.

Jon, with his eyes half-closed against the assault of the cold wind, focused on the voice he had heard. “Where are you?” he murmured to himself, his voice almost muffled by the howl of the wind.

“Jon…” The voice, though distant, seemed to guide him, pulling him in a specific direction. Jon trusted his instincts, as well as Ghost’s. Together, they raced against the storm, a perfect union of man and wolf facing the whims of nature.

Finally, after a hard and challenging run through the blizzard, Jon felt they were approaching the epicenter of the storm. He noticed a bright spot in the midst of the storm and headed in that direction.

…

Arya Stark, the young and fearless daughter of Eddard Stark, found herself in a dangerous and uncomfortable situation. Determined to follow her brother Jon to Artica, she had fled Winterfell but now faced the consequences of her impulsive decision. The falling blizzard was an adversity Arya had never faced before. The intense cold penetrated her clothes, threatening her courage and resilience.

“Jon…”

Taking refuge inside the hollow of a large tree trunk after losing her horse to the storm, Arya shivered incessantly, her frozen hands struggling to keep a small fire lit. The howling wind of the snowstorm infiltrated through the tree’s cracks, threatening to extinguish the fragile flame with each gust.

Arya gathered small twigs and pieces of wood, feeding the fire with careful movements. Her fingers, stiff and numb from the cold, made the task difficult. With each new piece of wood that burned, a small wave of heat spread, offering brief relief against the biting cold.

“Jon…” She murmured tirelessly.

Wrapped in her cloak, Arya huddled in the tight space, trying to conserve as much heat as possible. Her thoughts revolved around Jon, her family, and the decision to leave Winterfell. However, despite the fear and cold, Arya refused to give up. The flame of the fire, though small and trembling, was a symbol of her will to survive and move forward. With each frozen breath, Arya remained focused on keeping the fire lit, her mind fixed on the hope of finding Jon again and proving to herself that she was capable of facing the adversities of a world beyond the walls of Winterfell and making her brother take her to Artica.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps approaching through the sound of winds, which startled her, wondering what could appear in the middle of a storm. But her look of fear turned into realization when she saw the giant wolf with Jon on top appearing in front of her.

“Arya?!” Her brother looked at her with wide eyes.

“Jon!!!” She exclaimed, her teeth chattering from the cold, as her brother aggressively approached and grabbed her, pulling her into the storm while he hugged her. But instead of the cold wind, Arya felt her body magically warm up with the embrace of the brother she loved more than anyone.

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