Winterfell.
After subduing the Skagosi, Galon invited Sparta back into the castle to discuss the campaign against the Iron Islands.
Inside the hall, Sparta sat impatiently as Maester Luwin finished bandaging his arm.
His gaze swept past Sansa and Asha with clear disdain before settling seriously on Galon.
"Lord Galon."
After testing his arm with a few movements, Sparta spoke bluntly.
"You defeated me. My five hundred warriors and I will follow your command."
"Say the word, and we will act."
Galon smiled faintly and went straight to the point.
"Chief Sparta, we will depart soon for the Stony Shore. From there, we will sail to the Iron Islands."
"Please inform your people to prepare for battle as soon as possible."
He tapped the map on the table, pressing firmly on the Iron Islands.
Sparta glanced at it, then grinned, his teeth faintly yellowed, his expression filled with a Skagosi's hunger for battle.
"No problem, Lord Galon. My warhammer is ready. It's about time it tasted the blood of sea monsters."
"Point us where to fight, and we will follow."
His response was direct and decisive, showing his acceptance of Galon's command.
The first step in integrating the Skagosi had gone smoother than expected.
Galon nodded, then turned to Maester Luwin.
"Maester, please prepare supplies within three days and send a raven to King Robb about Winterfell's situation."
"Tell him that if the plan succeeds, Asha and I will land by sea and rendezvous with him at Riverrun."
Luwin still looked worried. He hesitated, then finally sighed.
"I will prepare everything within three days."
Galon gave a reassuring smile, then looked toward Sansa.
"Sansa, please accompany Lady Greyjoy to the dungeons and select reliable messengers."
Though reluctant, Sansa nodded.
"I understand."
With everything settled, Galon clapped his hands, signaling them to leave.
Once the others were gone, he walked around the table and gently took Sansa's hand.
"Sansa."
He looked at her with warmth.
"While I'm away, take care of yourself. I don't want to return and find you worn and exhausted."
His sudden intimacy made her both anxious and sweetly flustered.
She tried to pull her hand back, a trace of resentment in her voice.
"Hmph. You still remember me?"
"With how you were acting with that sea monster, maybe you won't even want to come back."
Galon tightened his grip, not letting her pull away, and laughed softly. "So you've been jealous about what happened in the dungeon this whole time?"
Sansa flushed with embarrassment and struggled harder, only to be pulled into his arms.
She tried to resist, but his voice, filled with apology, came close to her ear.
"Sansa, the situation then was special. I had to force information out of Asha."
"What you saw was just her reaction to learning of her father's death. I've only met her twice. It's nothing like what you think."
He leaned closer, his voice soft.
"Besides, my heart already belongs to the most beautiful Stark in the North. Why would I care about anyone else?"
His words melted her defenses.
"Hmph… how would I know if you're telling the truth…"
Her face flushed as she leaned against him, her resentment already gone.
"I swear it by the old gods."
"Sansa, if I've deceived you in any way, may I never—"
Before he could finish, she covered his mouth. "You're about to march to war. Don't say such things."
"I believe you."
She looked at him with affection. He smiled and pulled her into another embrace, though his eyes remained calm and calculating.
"I won't lie… but I don't have to tell everything."
"That shouldn't count as breaking an oath… right?"
Sansa, lost in the moment, soon remembered he was leaving.
Worry returned.
"You really intend to help that Greyjoy take the Seastone Chair? What if she betrays you afterward?"
Galon stroked her hair.
"Don't worry. She won't..And even if she does… I'll make sure she never has the chance."
His confidence eased her fears.
They stayed like that a while longer, exchanging soft words, until a servant arrived.
Sansa reluctantly left to attend to her duties.
Galon remained in the hall for a moment, then began making final arrangements.
He soon climbed the inner keep's watchtower, where Jon Snow was on patrol.
"Jon."
Jon turned immediately, his expression bright.
"Perfect timing, Galon. I was just about to ask when we're leaving so I can prepare."
Galon shook his head slightly.
Jon's expression froze.
"…You're leaving me behind again?"
Galon stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I want to take you. But Winterfell needs someone to stay."
Jon frowned.
"Is there no one else?"
"There are," Galon said after a pause, "but none more suitable than you."
"If something happens while I'm gone, you're the best person to take command."
Jon froze.
"Something happens?"
"What could possibly happen now?"
Galon didn't answer immediately. His gaze turned toward the distant mountains.
After a moment, he spoke quietly.
"Jon, the North is not united. Especially now. Some people… may already be eyeing Winterfell."
"For example… House Bolton."
Jon's expression changed instantly.
"Ramsay?"
"How would he dare?!"
Galon explained calmly.
"If I hadn't arranged for you to defend the castle and return in time before, he might have already tricked his way inside and taken control.
That was when I confirmed their intentions. At the very least, Ramsay cannot be trusted."
He turned back and gripped Jon's shoulder firmly.
"You are family to the Starks. I need you here to protect them. That responsibility is far more important than killing Ironborn."
Jon fell silent.
The excitement faded from his face, replaced by something heavier.
He understood.
After a moment, he raised his head, gray eyes steady. "I understand, Lord Galon. As long as I live, Winterfell will not fall."
Galon smiled in approval.
"I'll leave you three hundred men. Work with Maester Luwin to recruit and train more."
Jon nodded firmly.
"Yes, Lord Galon."
After giving a few more instructions, Galon left to inform Ron and the others of the campaign.
Once the order spread, Winterfell came alive like a finely tuned machine. The earlier calm vanished, replaced by tension and anticipation.
For three days, Maester Luwin's tower remained lit through the night.
Supplies were gathered, horses fed, arrows prepared.
Ravens flew constantly—toward Riverrun, Seagard, and Torrhen's Square—reporting movements and requesting aid.
In the dungeons, Sansa accompanied Asha in selecting trusted Ironborn messengers.
Once chosen, they would depart alongside Galon's army.
Three days passed quickly.
Galon assembled a force of twelve hundred outside Winterfell's main gate.
Sansa came to see him off, accompanied by Maester Luwin, Jon, and Bran.
After the usual farewells, just as Galon was about to mount his horse, Sansa did something unexpected.
She stepped forward, rose onto her toes, and kissed him. The kiss was brief, but firm—full of unmistakable claim.
She was telling him, and everyone watching, including Asha—
He was hers.
Galon paused, then returned the kiss with equal passion.
Asha watched with a faint smile, while others looked on with quiet approval.
At last, Sansa pulled away, breathless but composed. "I'll be waiting for your victory."
Galon smiled.
"I will return...victorious "
When she nodded, he mounted his horse and raised his hand.
"Move out!"
With a flick of the reins, Galon rode at the head of his army, marching toward the Stony Shore.
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