The rhythmic clop of hooves on damp dirt lulled me into a calm state as Storia's voice gently stirred me from a dreamless sleep. "It's time to wake little one," she said softly, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder. "We're approaching Winterfell."
My body stirred beneath the furs on none if the travelin carts, mind foggy frim unlocking my Shatterpoint perception or I guess I shouldl call it Dragon's Eye. Which sounds cooler honestly. I moved to sit up, only to notice my vision remained shrouded in darkness. My hands instinctively reached up, brushing against the soft bandages covering my eyes.
"What is this?" I asked groggily.
"A precaution," Storia replied. "To shield your mind and eyes from being overstimulated. You've only just awakened your Dragon Eyes, the lines are everywhere, and your mind must learn to tune them out, or it will burn itself raw." She looked down at me with a soft smile. "You'll be able to remove them when we arrive at the gates."
Satisfied, I nodded, taking her extended hand. She helped me mount her horse, and together, we rode the final leg of the journey. The air grew colder, crisper. The scent of pine, snow, and burning wood filtered through the winter breeze. I could hear the sounds of a bustling outer town as we approached the great stone walls of Winterfell.
By the afternoon, we reached the outer town surrounding Winterfell's great stone keep. I could sense the crowd even if I couldn't see them. Through the force I felt the laughter, murmurs of awe, and a wave of respect as the people beheld the banners of House Stark and the foreign sigils of the Drakons fluttering side by side.
Laborers and craftsmen sprang into action as supplies and tools were unloaded. Drakon engineers, in their polished black-and-gold armor, began coordinating with Northern builders. Their accents clashed but their shared purpose bound them together in mutual respect.
Storia leaned close to me, her breath visible in the cold. "Remove the bandages, young lord."
I did so slowly, wincing at the golden rays of the northern sun breaking through the cloudy sky. As my eyes adjusted, I beheld Winterfell, not as the show had portrayed it, but as it should have been. Massive and ancient, its towers crowned with snow, its walls alive with runes of protection from the First Men. The godswood beyond the walls pulsed with hidden power. I couldn't tell what it was but it felt familiar. I should investigate it later.
At the gates, a gathering awaited us.
Lord Eddard Stark stood at the front, as his family and warriors welcomed him home.At the front was Lady Catelyn wore her finest furs, holding the hand of a young red hair girl a young Sansa. To her other side Robb Stark, no more than five name days old. He wasn't the same young man I saw in the show but I could tell their was potential their and with the force anything was possible.
Behind them stood the bannermen House Glover, House Umber, and others curious and wary of the southern visitors. An off to the side, almost obscured by a crowd of people, was a boy with dark curls and quiet eyes. I could tell automatically it was Jon Snow. He was probably the same age as me and Robb which made sense so all of us show be 5 while Sansa is 4 and I bet Catelyn is probably pregnant with Aria.
The greeting was formal. The lady of yhe house welcomed. "I am glad you made a safe return dear husband and Lord Drakon House Stark welcomes your family to Winterfell. May this alliance prove fruitful, and your time here be as comfortable as the North allows."
My father returned the greeting in kind, offering thanks and promises of shared prosperity. I stood beside him as the nobles exchanged pleasantries, noting how everyone performed their roles perfectly except Jon.
Jon remained apart, standing stiffly near a post, trying to remain unnoticed. It wasn't hard to guess why.
As the small crowd relaxed, I stepped away from my father's side and made my way to him. His eyes widened as I approached, confused and unsure.
"Hello, Jon," I said with an easy smile.
"M-my lord, you shouldn't be iver here talking to me Im not worthy." he spoke politelyand reserved. I saw the cracks in his words the hint of fear of being punished.
I raised an eyebrow. "Is that how you greet everyone, or just people you think are better than you?"
He stiffened, clearly unprepared for such bluntness. "No my lord. I'm… I'm a bastard. I'm not meant to stand with the family."
"Bold of you," I said, voice light, "to tell me who I can and can't speak to. Even my mother doesn't try that."
Behind me, I heard Storia chuckle, and even Melisandre cracked a rare smile.
Jon's eyes widened in panic. "I didn't mean !"
I placed a hand on his shoulder. "Relax. I was joking. I don't care about bastards or true borns I care about character." He blinked. "Then… what should I call you?"
"My name," I said. "Call me by it. One day, perhaps, you'll call me friend… or brother."
His smile was cautious but genuine. I took his hand and guided him toward the main group, placing him next to Lord Stark Nodded with a appreciation for my gesture. The gathered Northern lords looked confused, some disapproving. But none dared speak aloud.
Lady Catelyn, however, looked as though she'd swallowed vinegar. Her glare at Jon could have frozen the Weeping Sea. I met her gaze evenly, unconcerned. I knew her resentment. I knew her hypocrisy. She had every right to feel wronged but it was not Jon who had betrayed her trust. And yet, he had borne her cruelty in silence. Even though I know the truth of Jon and Ned. This time I will fix some things if possible to make his life a little easier.
Ned Stark, ever composed, nodded faintly. "Let it be known," he declared, his voice ringing clear, "that House Drakon has honored us with their presence. They will remain in Winterfell throughout the season, aiding in construction and updates to the homes of Winterfell. As well as training, and mutual learning between our two houses."
He turned slightly toward his bannermen. "Let their warriors be treated as allies. Let their knowledge be shared with our own."
"Not let us feast and be with our families," he finished. "For tomorrow, the real work begins."
Cheers broke out, and already the air smelled of roasting meats, spiced wines, and warm hearthfires. Jon looked stunned at his position among the family. Catelyn stood frozen and me I simply smiled.