When the ship full of refugees first arrived at the wharf, the assembled crowd erupted in genuine joy. Of the nearly 1000 aboard, nearly 700 were tree-kin. Some 150 were stone-kin, and there were smatterings of sand-kin and others. Families were reunited, and former friends found each other again, sometimes after many years apart. Once they had all disembarked, they marched in a grand procession through the streets of Brandon's Rest to the great hall. They were sworn in to Westerosi citizenship with many tears and shouts of encouragement from friends and family. Of course, the 17 sages went straight to the maesters' building, but they were sworn in later in a smaller ceremony.
Some 50 of the tree-kin were excellent wind users and were immediately made part of the invasion fleet's personnel. Of course, a few wished for no more violence, and they were allowed to join families in Brandon's Rest or go to the new tree-kin homeland. About forty sand-kin went to the new sand-kin residence in the north of town. In fact, the massive influx of refugees prompted the construction of new residences in the new north section.
The weather was wonderful, and the sights of their new homes just overwhelmed most of them. The trains, the buildings, and yes, even the dragon left many of them speechless. When they first heard about the dragon, more than 500 lined the city walls to get a 'safe' look at Drogon. The 150 stone-kin cheered as they marched to their kin's caverns. The town took on an almost festive mood, and everyone had a good time. So much suffering turned into a release of sorrow and a new beginning. It was an actual catharsis for so many.
And the land seemed to understand what was coming; thousands of extra acres were being plowed for the mass of foodstuffs needed to train soldiers and stock the invasion fleet. The rains were gentle and plentiful; the blacksmiths of the north were busy hammering out plowshares to aid the new farmers who had come to grow the food. Trains full of oxen were brought in to pull the new plows, and the harvest grew immensely. There might even be three harvests in the north this year.
At the turn of spring into summer, they held a great celebration; truthfully, the twins' 10th birthday party was at its center. A train arrived with Bran, Sansa, and a whole entourage from King's Landing. It had been ten years since Arya and Thomas had returned from the West, gotten married, and had the twins. Arya had confided in Bran her hesitation about leading the invasion fleet, and the two had talked at length about her maudlin stance. All that was forgotten on the day of the birthday party, though. While revels spread across town, the main party was held in the great hall. At the main table, the two birthday celebrants held court while lines of dignitaries plied them with gifts beyond their expectations. For Bran, he presented a marvelous sword for Cate and three volumes so old and so rare that no one could explain where they came from for young Brandon. The two children were stunned by these gifts; Brandon wanted to run off and begin reading his books, and Cate wanted to start practicing with her new sword. Arya laughed and forbade them from doing so until the party was over. Sansa topped everything off with an amazing set of clothes for each of them. Cate's dress was stunningly made, yet it could also serve as a swordsman's garb. Brandon's dress suit was both casual and intricate enough for any meeting of great minds. The clothes left the two children nonplussed, but the parents and the assembled crowd understood what a great gift she had given them.
With the gift-giving done, the adult side of the party commenced, and the drink flowed. Tyrion got so drunk he could barely stay seated. He kept falling backward, and even Bran was amazed at the depth of his inebriation. The three hundred or so partygoers were served a sumptuous meal, though many were too busy drinking theirs. The staff had begun carting off the loads of presents so they could be perused later, but Cate would not allow them to take her sword, and Brandon grabbed one of his treasured books, shouting, "I want this one!"
It was a treatise on magic from a forgotten master, and the child thrust the book in front of him with both hands as he shouted. A dagger sprouted from the book, and the crowd that had turned to look at his shout burst into pandemonium. Another dagger struck Bran the king's chair, quivering in implication. Guards leaped to their duty, surrounding Bran, and the crowd scattered, unaware of where the danger was coming from. Several crowd members shrieked as weapons struck them, many killed on the spot. Arya leaped up, shouting, "To Arms, to arms!"
Hassan had been at the main table, and he went into action, searching the room for this new enemy. At last it dawned on him what was happening. In the small group of sand-kin who had arrived by boat, about 20 were unfamiliar to him. He could see they were truly sand-kin, but he wasn't sure where they came from. He had welcomed them nonetheless as family. He stood and shouted to his assassin guards in the building, "They are Hashshashin; they are shadow-walking; kill them quickly!"