[Chapter Size: 3200 Words.]

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Third Person POV

The Wall, 292 AC, At the some moment.

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Dawn brought with it the promise of a new day as Jon Snow, Arya Stark, and the Arctic group approached the Wall with each step in that morning. The sky, still painted in the pale colors of dawn, cast a soft light over the landscape.

Jon, mounted on his giant wolf, Ghost, led the group with a serious and contemplative expression. By his side, Arya, full of anticipation and anxiety, observed every detail of the unfolding landscape before her eyes for the first time, and she was about to pass that ice structure soon. She had never been so close to the Wall, no, she had never seen it and only heard Uncle Benjen talk about the night’s watch and the legendary wall, and the magnitude of the structure now left her both amazed and intimidated.

“Jon, it’s huge!” exclaimed Arya, unable to take her eyes off the immense ice barrier.

“Yes, it’s the Wall, Arya. It protects the realm from everything that lies beyond it,” Jon replied, his tone reflecting deep respect for the ancestral structure, as he knew very well what it protected the realm of men from, even though no one believed his words here.

As they approached, Jon turned to Arya with a grave look. “Arya, I need you to hide in one of the wagons until we pass through the Wall. There are still risks, and we cannot be careless now, as Uncle Benjen might see you and send you back to Winterfell, do you want that?” he said, his voice low so that only Arya could hear.

Arya nodded, understanding the need for caution. “Okay, Jon. I’ll do what you say.”

One of the dwarfs helped Arya, while laughing, to settle into one of the wagons, covering her with furs and supplies to ensure she remained hidden and safe. “Stay quiet until I tell you it’s safe,” the dwarf instructed, checking to make sure she was well hidden.

Meanwhile, Jon had taken precautions to ensure the journey was smooth. He knew Lord Stark, his father, had not been able to send any search for Arya due to the storm that ravaged the region, a coincidence or the gods favoring Arya, which played in her favor. Moreover, Jon had skillfully intercepted the messenger ravens that could alert the lords of the lands they passed through about Arya’s disappearance and asking them to search for her with his group.

The decision to take his sister with him beyond the Wall weighed on his mind; he knew that what he was doing directly contradicted his father’s wishes and he could be hated for it, but his conviction that he was acting in Arya’s best interest strengthened his determination.

“I’m doing this for you, Arya,” Jon murmured to himself, justifying his action. “In Arctic, you will have the freedom you always wanted, plus I will make you more intelligent than Maester Luwin and so many ladylike skills that you will rival queens of the past, leaving even Sansa in a mediocre form.”

“I’ll face the consequences later,” Jon concluded, determined to move forward. “Now, my priority is Arya and her future in Arctic.”

Arya, unaware of Jon’s internal conflict, absorbed the landscape around her under the cloths of the wagon as they approached the wall, which they were finally arriving at. As Jon Snow’s caravan approached Castle Black, the imposing fortress of the Night’s Watch emerged before them again with sounds of warnings about their arrival.

Jon, mounted on Ghost, his giant wolf, led the group towards the castle gate. As the gate itself opened for him and his group, with the guards on top of the wall spotting the caravan and, recognizing Jon, giving orders for the gates to be opened. The heavy wooden and iron doors began to move, creating a path for Jon and his group to enter Castle Black and head straight to the north.

Jon instructed his men to pass quickly through the castle, heading north of the Wall. He knew that his and Arya’s presence at Castle Black could raise questions he preferred to avoid at that time. Moreover, he wanted to ensure that Arya and the rest of the caravan were safe beyond the Wall before facing the Lord Commander.

“Move forward. I will meet you soon,” Jon said to his men, his voice laden with authority beyond his age, impressing the men of the watch. Jon went to one of the wagons and whispered softly, “Arya, stay with Ghost. I’m going to speak with the Lord Commander and will be back with you soon.”

Arya nodded, as Jon headed alone to the tower where the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch kept his main chamber, his solar. As Jon walked through the corridors of the castle, the members of the Night’s Watch greeted him with respect, some with looks of surprise at seeing the famous Jon Snow, the 11-year-old boy who commands an army of giants and donates many resources to the order, back at Castle Black. Jon nodded in response, heading towards where the Lord Commander awaited him.

Jon Snow entered the room of the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch with a firm and confident stance. Jorah Mormont, always a man of serious and imposing appearance, was seated behind his desk, covered in maps and documents. His shrewd eyes observed Jon with a mix of respect and curiosity.

“Jon Snow, or should I say king of Arctic?” the Lord Commander began, his deep voice echoing in the room. “So, you are returning to the north?”

“Yes, it’s time to return to my land,” Jon spoke.

“You know the king might make some demands when he finds out about this, especially when someone says he could shove the draft order up his hole, someone will say exactly those words, even though I didn’t write that in the letter I sent to King’s Landing,” he spoke in a serious tone.

“It’s all right, I talked about this with my father. I’m not concerned with southern kingdoms. I’m ending most of the invasions you would have in the future and am trying to educate the people beyond the Wall to live better and even negotiate with other lands across the sea. We can reach a consensus, which will help the Watch and the North more than all efforts in 8,000 years,” Jon spoke, intending to end the savagery, bringing the people known as wildlings into a civilized, rich, literate, and intelligent society.

“That sounds like a dream, but I see your good intention, so as long as I am the Lord Commander, you will have my support as long as you never harm this side of the Wall,” he spoke, and Jon nodded.

“Believe me, Lord Commander, we will be good allies, and even if the king dislikes my response or tries to retaliate, I’m sure a war beyond the Wall would be quite unpopular and expensive. The Watch is also an organization independent of the Iron Throne,” Jon reasoned.

“You speak the truth, but we cannot refuse an order from the king; it would put us in a difficult position.”

“Maybe Arctic could finance the Watch? We’ve done that before,” Jon joked.

“Hahaha. Kid, you’re funny. An organization beyond the Wall financing us to protect the wall and the south of the Wall? Hahaha! It’s been a long time since I laughed like this,” the Lord Commander laughed heartily in his solar.

Jon waited for Jeor to stop laughing before continuing, “The people in Arctic can still support the Night’s Watch, but I will ensure that our relations with Arctic remain strong and beneficial for both sides. Arctic has become an independent kingdom, but our proximity to the Wall and the Night’s Watch makes an alliance vital for the security of everyone.”

The Lord Commander nodded, pondering Jon’s words. “I understand the importance of maintaining a friendly relationship with Arctic, especially considering the strength of your army. I doubt anyone from the seven kingdoms would want to put their army against 500 giants in an unknown land.”

“So, do we have a peace agreement?” Jon spoke.

The Lord Commander looked at Jon, weighing his words. “As I said, you have my support, Jon. But remember, the balance is fragile. We need to work together to maintain stability in the region. And I am surrounded by ungrateful people, no matter how you help them.”

Jon nodded, understanding human relations, especially in a penal colony where all kinds of criminals are present, from traitors and murderers to rapists.

“There’s one more thing,” Jeor spoke before Jon could say goodbye.

“Maester Aemon is a man of great wisdom and honor. I saw him quite happy after you used your magic on him. I am glad that he can enjoy his life better in his last years. His departure will be a great loss for the Night’s Watch, but I understand your reasons. He has been talking more and more about Arctic and the potential he sees in you and your people than anything else when he rarely visits us now. I want you to take care of him.”

“I promise to take good care of him and ensure that his wisdom continues to be valued and respected,” Jon affirmed seriously.

“I know you will,” the Lord Commander replied. “Regarding the Watch, we will report that Maester Aemon has passed away. This will allow him to travel with you without raising suspicions and also give us the opportunity to request a new maester from the Citadel.”

Jon nodded, thanking the Lord Commander. “I appreciate the understanding and support, Lord Commander. Maester Aemon’s presence in Arctic will be of great value, both to me and my people.”

“Then it’s settled. I wish you good luck, Jon Snow, and to Maester Aemon as well. May the old gods guide your path and protect Arctic,” said the Lord Commander, extending his hand for a final handshake.

Jon shook the Lord Commander’s hand and, with one last nod, left the room. Jon exited the Lord Commander’s solar, his thoughts still revolving around the conversation he had just had. As he walked through the courtyard of Castle Black, he spotted a familiar figure leaning against one of the parapets – his uncle, Benjen Stark, beside his wolf.

“Uncle Benjen,” Jon called, approaching with a cautious smile.

Benjen turned, his face marked by the harsh weather of the Wall, lit up with a smile upon seeing Jon. “Jon, I was starting to think I wouldn’t see you before you left,” he said, “I was hoping to have a chance to see you before you return to the north of the Wall. Damn, I never imagined I’d be so calm about a nephew going back to those wild lands with only 11 namedays.” He emphasized the last part with some surprise.

Jon approached, and the two briefly embraced, a gesture of affection and mutual respect. “I’m leaving for Arctic. There’s much to be done,” Jon explained.

“I’ve heard about the things you’re doing there. I’m proud of you, Jon. You’re creating something unique, something that could change the North, and perhaps all seven kingdoms, for the better,” Benjen spoke with a tone of admiration.

Jon nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility. “I’m trying to do my best. Arctic is a land full of potential. I hope to honor our name there.”

Benjen placed his hand on Jon’s shoulder. “You’re already doing that. And remember, you will always be a Stark, no matter where you are.”

“I’ll remember that, Uncle,” Jon responded. “And thank you, for everything.”

The two exchanged a few more words, talking about the Night’s Watch and the situation beyond the Wall. Finally, it was time for Jon to depart.

“You will always have a place here, Jon, and in Winterfell. But I know that Arctic is where you need to be now,” Benjen said, his expression a mix of pride and sadness.

“I will do my best to make a difference,” Jon promised.

Benjen, with a serious expression and a nod of his head, headed towards the mechanisms that controlled the immense gate of the Wall. With a creaking of chains and a dull thud, the gate began to rise slowly, revealing the wild vastness that stretched beyond the Wall.

Jon moved away, leaving Benjen behind as he headed towards the gate of Castle Black. He turned one last time, looking at the imposing Wall rising before him. Jon bid farewell to his uncle Benjen with mixed feelings of gratitude and melancholy.

Ghost was waiting for him on the other side; he mounted his wolf. “Go with the gods, Jon,” Benjen said, as the gate closed again. “And remember, no matter how far you go, you always have a home to return to.”

Jon nodded in gratitude, his heart heavy with the farewell, “I will remember, Uncle. Thank you for everything.”

With these final words, Jon and Ghost were now moving northward, towards the large encampment in front of the wall.

Jon advanced through the camp, the sounds of his warriors resonating around him. He looked for Arya, knowing she would be fascinated by the sight of the giants who were now part of his army in Arctic. Upon finding her, he saw his younger sister running excitedly among the ranks of the giants, a look of pure admiration and excitement on her face.

The giants, majestic and powerful beings, watched Arya with a mix of curiosity and kindness. Despite their colossal stature and intimidating appearance, they showed surprising patience with the young Stark, who ran among them as if in a world of wonders.

“Arya!” Jon called, smiling at the genuine joy on her face.

She turned quickly, her eyes shining with joy. “Jon! Look at them! There are so many and they’re so big!” Arya exclaimed, pointing to the giants who walked calmly through the camp.

Jon nodded, following Arya’s gaze. “Yes, these are the giants of Arctic. They are an essential part of our kingdom now. There are only 500 here, but there are more waiting for us in Arctic, and I plan to recruit a few more on the way.”

Arya ran up to Jon, still looking at the giants with admiration. “They’re incredible, Jon. I never thought I’d see something like this. There are hundreds of them, I bet Sansa would faint if she saw them. They’re like the stories Old Nan used to tell, but so much more impressive in person!”

Jon laughed at her enthusiasm. “They are an ancient people, Arya, with their own stories and traditions. In Arctic, you’ll have the chance to learn about them and many other things.”

Arya looked at Jon with an expression of gratitude and excitement. “I can’t wait to learn everything about Arctic and its people. And the direwolves too!”

Jon put an arm around Arya’s shoulders, leading her through the camp. “Let’s go, I’ll introduce you to some of them. But remember, always with respect. They are our allies and friends.”

Walking together through the camp, Jon began to introduce Arya to the leaders of the giants, explaining their histories and their importance to Arctic.

After seeing the giants and Jon visiting Old Nan with Hodor to check if they were well, Old Nan seemed to have the same feelings as Arya, watching the ranks of armored giants with admiration, while Hodor was somewhat afraid. Jon then led Arya on Ghost to his tent, where Maester Aemon and Eragon were, back at his tent. Maester Aemon, despite his age, now had better sight and more energy thanks to Jon. He was having an animated conversation with Eragon, whispering in Valyrian to the little dragon, but the dragon, feeling his master outside the tent, immediately tried to reach him. However, Aemon stopped him, waiting for Jon to enter. Both were sharing knowledge and stories.

Jon entered the tent with a smile. “We’re back!” Jon announced, looking at Eragon fondly.

“We heard about your arrival, but you’ve been with the Lord Commander, I suppose,” Aemon laughed a little.

“Roarrrr,” Eragon attempted to make a sound but almost failed.

“What’s my little one doing…” Jon smiled at the dragon. He picked up Eragon as the dragon tried to make more sounds, reflecting happiness in his bright sapphire eyes.

“Jon…? W-what is that?!” Arya, entering the tent hearing the sounds of some young and strange creature, but when she saw that little guy in Jon’s hands trying to make joyful sounds, she immediately became fascinated by Eragon and asked in disbelief while stammering.

The presence of the creature was something she had never imagined she would encounter, and the reality surpassed any story she had heard in Winterfell. Eragon, a baby dragon, was visibly beautiful and powerful, displaying snow-white scales with green glints and spots, and intelligent eyes.

Eragon shifted his attention to Arya, as he looked at Arya with a penetrating, yet non-threatening gaze.

“This is Eragon,” Jon introduced, noticing Arya’s admiring gaze. “He is my son, a strong and powerful dragon,” Jon said, smiling.

“You-you have a dragon?! Is this a real dragon?” Wait!? You said he’s your son?!” Arya immediately asked several things in a tone of astonishment.

“Yes, Arya. He is the last of his kind, though he is different, he is the first dragon seen in the world after centuries,” Jon explained. “He may not be my natural biological son, but he has a part of me in him, so I can consider him my true son,” Jon said, embracing the dragon with Aemon at his side, smiling animatedly at this.

Eragon, sensing Arya’s curiosity, leaned forward with Jon’s help, allowing her to take a closer look at his scales and the elegant shape of his head. Arya timidly extended her hand, and Eragon, understanding the gesture, lowered his head to allow her to touch him.

The contact was soft, and Arya felt the firm and warm texture of the scales under her fingers. Eragon emitted a low sound, almost like a purring, showing his acceptance and affection for the young Stark.

“He’s amazing,” Arya murmured, looking at Jon with bright eyes. “I never imagined I’d see a real dragon.”

Jon smiled, pleased to see Arya’s joy and enchantment. “In Arctic, Arya, you’ll see many things you never imagined. Eragon is just the beginning.”

Eragon soon left the contact with Arya’s hand, preferring Jon’s embrace, as he had a greater preference for the Targaryens and especially his own father. Jon spent some time there with Aemon and Arya before finally starting to organize things.

With the tent dismantled and the camp ready to depart, Jon prepared to lead the group northwestward. Jon, after finalizing the preparations for departure, gathered the main members of the armies like the commanders of the legions and captains for a brief meeting. To discuss the strategy and reallocate the extra Wargs as scouts. The group was about to embark on a journey toward the western region, toward lands unknown to them, so they had to be prepared.

With the end of the meeting, they set off to the west, traversing an increasingly wild and unexplored landscape towards the Fist of the First Men.

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