[Chapter Size: 2500 Words.]
Third Person POV.
Winterfell.
...
...
Daemon issued orders to Bak, the man of the people and the one he trusted most to share command of the Free Folk army after Tormund.
He asked Bak to meet with Mance and the others to request that they expand the camp.
Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Winterfell, an army of more than one hundred and thirty thousand people was gathering — an army that had never before been seen around that castle. And they were all Free Folk, which Daemon couldn't help but find ironic.
Mance spoke with Bak and ended up passing command to the men he trusted most, so they could organize the camp, while he joined the main group heading toward Winterfell.
"You seem anxious," said Daemon, standing in the courtyard of Winterfell, noticing Val.
"What do you think? You didn't let me go meet my sister on horseback," replied the blonde, a little nervous.
Daemon gave a faint smile. They hadn't even had time for lunch when the scouts came with the news of the group's arrival. Daenerys settled to Daemon's right side, next to Val and Ygritte, while on the left stood Robb Stark and several northern lords.
The first to pass were Benjen, carrying both Bran and Rickon on horseback, as he stopped for a moment. Bran and Rickon in front of him, both looking anxiously straight at Robb, who stood beside Jon without taking his eyes off them. Robb's eyes widened as he saw them.
Benjen also gave a faint smile and made his horse move forward. Then he stopped halfway, and Hodor soon followed on foot.
"Take me to my brother, Hodor!" Bran asked anxiously, as Hodor did so, picking him up with one arm and Rickon with the other.
Rickon ran toward Robb before Hodor could carry Bran, and as he walked up to them, Robb was forced to take a step forward to embrace the youngest of the family.
"Robb!" Rickon cried immediately, closing his eyes.
"We thought you were dead," murmured Bran slowly, as Hodor set him down beside his brother and Robb pulled him into the embrace too, holding all three brothers together.
"I know, brothers," replied Robb, hugging them even tighter. "It must not have been easy for any of you. I'm sorry for what happened, I truly am. I thought you were dead too. It was my fault for letting Theon return to the Iron Islands. Because of him, Winterfell was attacked. Rodrik and Maester Luwin died, along with many others from the castle." Robb said regretfully.
"But it wasn't your fault!" said Bran, his voice trembling with tears, while Rickon began to cry as well, the tears falling freely.
"Mother..." sobbed the youngest, crying even harder.
"I'm sorry, brothers. Our mother died at the Twins... because of me too," said Robb, tears in his eyes.
The courtyard fell silent. Even those who watched the reunion forgot about the large group approaching just behind them.
Bran and Rickon had basically broken all protocol, and some cast glances at Daemon, expecting him to be displeased by it. But he only looked at them with a hint of pity, while Daenerys beside him murmured something like, "Do not mock their mother at this moment."
In any case, Daemon ignored his cousins and turned his attention to the new group approaching: besides his uncle Benjen drawing near, there was Mance, his wife Della carrying a baby in her arms, Lucis, Lafy, and other figures behind them.
Val immediately stepped forward, once again breaking protocol. Daemon wanted to laugh; he was not offended by the spearwife's boldness. Daenerys also raised an eyebrow, turning her attention to Daemon, who merely shrugged. Val embraced Della and asked questions about little Aemon Battleborn.
The first to truly respect protocol was Benjen himself, who, as he approached, bowed before Daemon.
"Your Majesty," he said, facing his nephew.
From where they stood, Daemon could already hear Lyanna shouting for her brother, whom she hadn't seen in years. Seeing cousins and nephews was one thing, but seeing her younger brother — now a grown man, after she had been resurrected — stirred something different in her.
The astonishment and emotion were among the greatest she'd ever felt, second only to when she first saw Daemon after his resurrection... Even so, she knew Daemon would allow the two of them to meet later, in private.
"Rise, Benjen Stark. I must say... Uncle," Daemon said.
Benjen straightened himself and looked past Daemon, toward Winterfell, his gaze filled with relief. "I heard Winterfell was badly damaged, but it seems you've been busy, Daemon," Benjen said, taking in all the castle's reconstruction.
"You could say that, Uncle. I hope the journey here was pleasant," replied Daemon.
"It's only been a week since we last saw each other, Daemon, but it's good to see you well," he said with genuine warmth.
"And it's good to have you here again," replied Daemon.
"You may proceed, Uncle. I believe introductions regarding my future wife are unnecessary," Daemon said with a nod.
Meanwhile, Robb was still kneeling, even after his brothers had been led away. Benjen embraced him tightly, which drew a faint smile from Daemon.
Next to kneel was Mance. The gesture caused many of the Free Folk to raise their eyebrows, seeing the former King-Beyond-the-Wall bow. Still, there were no hostile murmurs — after all, the respect Mance had for Daemon was well known. Many among the Free Folk did the same, viewing Daemon almost as a deity, due to his deeds and powers.
"Rise, Mance. I hope you had a peaceful journey here. After leading so many men for an entire moon, a good rest will be provided for you and your wife. And I see your little Aemon is growing well. It's good to see you too," said Daemon, turning his attention to Della along with Val, the blonde still checking on her nephew.
Della bowed her head in a sign of respect as well.
"Before you go, Mance, I want those creatures placed in the dungeon tonight, but in another location, separated," Daemon said, and Mance nodded. Jon made a gesture for him to step back, giving space for Lucis to approach.
"Daemon," she said in a shy tone.
Daemon smiled. "Come here, my spearwife," he said openly.
A few men of the North whispered upon hearing the term — they already knew what it meant. Daemon wouldn't be surprised if he knew they were murmuring about him being a lover of wildlings.
In any case, Daemon leaned forward and kissed Lucis on the forehead. She smiled at him, and then he turned his attention to Lafy.
"How are you, lad? I hope you took good care of your sister on the way here," Daemon said.
"Your Majesty," the young man replied with a shy smile, embarrassed to be stared at before so many people. "And yes, I made sure nothing bad happened to her," Lafy said, while Daemon watched the next people in the group draw everyone's attention. Small hooded figures approached, hiding their bodies completely beneath thick cloaks.
"You need not hide here. You have my word that no one will lay a hand on you," Daemon stated.
Half a dozen of them seemed to look at one another for a moment, before one finally pulled back the hood, revealing herself as a child of the forest. Most of the northern nobles swallowed in astonishment — except for the Free Folk and a few others who had already seen these creatures, rescued by Daemon from where he had faced the Three-Eyed Crow.
"By the gods... what are those things?" murmured Lord Glover, swallowing hard. Lord Tallhart, Lord Cerwyn and the others exchanged frightened, stunned looks at the strange creature, whose skin resembled leaves and earth.
"These are the Children of the Forest. They are older than all the men here combined. As old as this castle," announced Daemon. "Her name is Leaf. She took part in the first war between the First Men, the Daughters of the Forest, and the Giants."
A murmur ran through the courtyard. Some noble ladies looked on with horror and even disgust, but the Children of the Forest seemed accustomed to it — nothing disturbed them.
"Do you have the sacred grove here? We can stay in it. We do not wish to enter your stone buildings," Leaf said, refusing to remain within the castle.
"Very well, you may go to the grove. Just do not be offended if, sometimes, I go there for private conversations I tend to have in that place," Daemon replied.
"We shall remember that," Leaf said, inclining her head. "Also, you have a spirit near you, do you not?"
Daemon only smiled. "You noticed. But that is not something you need to worry about." ]
Leaf nodded at those words and, together with the other Children of the Forest, pulled back her hood. There was no need for anyone to guide them — they went straight toward the entrance of the godswood, as if they already knew the way. Daemon did not doubt it. If they had once fought alongside the First Men against the White Walkers, it was likely those same beings had known Brandon the Builder within those very walls.
Suddenly, heavy footsteps began to echo from the gate. People turned, startled, and soon gasped, pointing with trembling fingers at the immense figure approaching.
A giant.
The enormous creature lowered its head to pass through the gate, and even the bravest warriors of the North instinctively stepped back.
"He said he wanted to greet you. And, well, you know... I can't exactly stop a giant, can I?" said Mance with a half-smile, while Daemon merely shrugged.
When Daemon had brought fifty thousand men from the Free Folk camp for the first time, he hadn't brought any giants, deeming it unnecessary. So for many, this was the first time they had ever seen one. The astonishment was widespread — though they had heard rumors of giants crossing the Wall, seeing one with their own eyes was as striking as seeing a Child of the Forest.
"Targaryen," greeted Mag the Mighty, bowing his head slightly.
Daemon gave another faint smile. "It's good to see you again, old friend. We can have a sparring session anytime — if you still want to get beaten," he said in a playful tone.
Those around didn't understand the joke, but Daemon had once faced that very giant in a fistfight. As absurd as the size difference had been, Daemon's abilities were enough to even tilt the balance of the fight — things he had learned battling giants in Skyrim. Naturally, he had won.
The giant struck his fist against his chest and nodded.
"Anyway, let's get the camp settled," Daemon said. "It's good to see you all again."
He then turned his attention to Bran, whom he had not yet greeted. As soon as he did, Jon grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug, while Uncle Benjen watched.
Mag the Mighty returned to the camp along with two hundred other giants who had come with the eighty thousand men.
Now, only Lord Umber, Lady Karstark — who would be arriving soon —, Lord Reed, and his uncle, Lord Stark with the Manderlys, were still missing to complete the group.
In any case, dinner that night was quite lively. A banquet was prepared, and the Stark family gathered at the main table along with Daemon, his betrothed and spearwives, as well as Mance and his wife. All to his right. Robb, his brothers, and his uncle sat to Daemon's left.
When night fell, Robb went straight to the dungeons, where he found the guards watching over the cells.
"I want to see Theon Greyjoy," Robb said.
The men exchanged glances. They were Free Folk, placed there by Daemon precisely to prevent any Northerner of questionable loyalty from trying to free the prisoners.
"It's all right," murmured one of them, stepping aside as another unlocked the iron door.
Robb nodded in thanks and entered.
"I heard you knelt, boy. Knelt to a dragon and threw your pride away just to serve a Targaryen! Damn you, Stark!" shouted one of the prisoners — the very same Mors Umber, full of hatred toward the Free Folk. He too was there, awaiting judgment after losing Last Hearth to Daemon.
"That doesn't matter now, least of all to you," Robb replied coldly, ignoring him as he walked down the corridor.
He then came across Lady Dustin, who stared at him with trembling eyes full of fear. Robb wondered if the rumors were true — that his aunt Lyanna had risen from her tomb to haunt her, simply because the woman had insulted Lyanna Stark's bastard son. He didn't know if the ghost was real, but her fear certainly was.
Either way, Robb said nothing. He continued to the next cell, where he found Theon, who woke to the sound of footsteps. The man looked at him, startled, before lowering his gaze in shame.
"You know..." Robb began. "I haven't come to see you since I arrived over a week ago, because I didn't know what I'd do in front of you. It was very likely that I'd open this cage and strangle you myself," he murmured.
"But I saw my brothers this afternoon. They're well, alive. You deceived us all. And in a way, you made me hate you more than anyone — more than the Lannisters, more than Joffrey. For a moment, I wanted you to suffer. But you didn't kill my brothers. Despite everything you went through at the hands of Ramsay Snow, you're still here, in Winterfell. Maybe... maybe I don't want to kill you. But I can't forgive you either. People died — important people I'd known all my life — because of your betrayal, Theon," he said, staring at the man curled up on the floor.
"I'm sorry..." was all Theon managed to murmur. It was the only thing he could say; he knew he would die, but he preferred to do so without Robb staring at him with such contempt.
Theon was nothing like the arrogant boy Robb remembered. That confident lad was gone. Before him sat only a broken man, frightened and shattered. Robb wasn't surprised — he had heard of the tortures Theon had suffered.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in Winterfell, Benjen was in tears, staring ahead. Daemon, arms crossed, remained silent after having opened the hidden sound field in the middle of the godswood, since the Children of the Forest were occupying the place, observing everything without being able to hear.
Daemon had made the meeting as private as possible.
The translucent figure of Lyanna Stark flickered before her brother, like a ghost in the godswood. Daemon had asked Benjen to go there after dinner, for his mother had been in his ear, eager to meet him.
"Benjen... it's good to see you again, brother," said Lyanna, her voice soft, sorrowful, yet full of tenderness and nostalgia.
"Lya..." The words escaped Benjen Stark's throat between sobs and trembling breaths.
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