A friend (105 .A.C. Second Moon)
Seadraagon Point Wolveswood
After all those years of wandering in the North, he finally felt like himself again, with the world growing darker and colder by the year. Ultimately, he gave up and went to sleep near a weirwood. Then he woke up and felt a hint of an old bond. He even howled, something he had never done before.
For three years, he had roamed the lands of winter. When he felt a familiar bond drawing nearer, he was spurred southward. He also found a companion, someone he had been searching for. She was wild like one of his sisters from old, but she also had a grace his sister didn't possess. Then he felt a connection with her as they went South, knowing that young ones were growing inside her. He could hear their little heartbeats, which made him happy and reminded him of the joy he once felt when all his siblings were together.
He stalked through the dense underbrush of the Wolfswood, his white fur blending into the snow-covered landscape. His senses were alert, his keen nose catching every scent, his sharp ears tuned to every sound. This was his territory, and he guarded it vigilantly. A faint growl rumbled deep within him as he detected an unfamiliar, unsettling odor in the crisp winter air. It was a smell he did not like, a scent that intruded upon his solitude. He moved silently, his paws barely making a sound as he stalked through the ancient trees.
Suddenly, the distant sound of approaching riders reached his sensitive ears. His hackles rose, and he tensed, his eyes narrowing as he prepared to confront the intruders. They were encroaching upon his territory, and he would not allow it.
But then, amidst the clamor of the riders, there was something else a familiar presence, a connection that had been dormant for far too long. It was Jon, his bonded companion. The bond between them surged to life, strong and undeniable. His heart leaped with joy and recognition.
With newfound purpose, he bounded forward, his powerful muscles propelling him through the forest. He followed the bond, his senses guiding him unerringly toward Jon. In a small clearing, he found him there, a man he had missed deeply, standing tall and strong.
But before Jon stood a massive black bear, its fur glistening in the winter sunlight, and a man in white, with steel around lay on the ground, and a dead boar. The bear reared up on its hind legs, roaring in fury, its eyes fixed on Jon. He knew he had to act swiftly.
"Ghost!" Jon said, in awe, after he launched himself upon the bear's back. His teeth sank into the fur and flesh, tasting blood. The bear roared in anger, as did another one he hadn't heard before.
With the bear distracted, Jon charged with his broken hunting spear and speared the bear in the belly. The bear roared loudly as it thrashed around, swiping with its paws. It fell back as it tried to remove the spear that was inside it. He fell off it and charged again, biting down on its neck. As his old companion planted a seax into the bear's eye as he held it down.
They collapsed, both exhausted and full of stress. Then he looked at his old companion, his friend, his father. He laughed at him, licking his face and covering his friend with blood. He didn't care. They
Balerion (105 A.C. Second Moon)
Seadragon Point – Dragon Caves
He awoke with a jolt, sensing panic in his friend, his bond, a fear that Aemon was in danger. With a thunderous roar, Grey Ghost and Seamoke both answered him. Yet they were timed roars, of reply not to challenge. In his rush, he crawled out of the cave and leaped into the sky.
"Aemon, where are you?!" He roared, taking to the skies quickly, feeling the urgency of his rider's peril. He flew towards the source of distress, leading him to the Wolfswood, where he occasionally visited to hunt for moose and elk.
"Aemon!" He roared again, but his bond eluded him. However, he sensed Aemon's location and sought him out. His eyes scanned the area as he picked up the scent of his rider. He attempted to reestablish their connection but only received a mix of fear and happiness. It puzzled him; why were these emotions intertwined?
Then, he spotted Aemon, locked in combat with a white and black beast. He noticed Aemon's sworn sword to the side laying upon the ground, as while as dead boar. He descended, preparing to breathe fire and protect his rider from this threat. As he approached, he realized there were two creatures; the white one had clamped its teeth onto the black thing's neck. Then, in a swift motion, Aemon stabbed the bear in the eye with his seax.
Relief washed over him as the bear collapsed. But then he was stunned when the white creature pounced on Aemon. He roared loudly as he landed, attempting to scare the creature away from Aemon. However, he heard laughter, and as he reached out to their bond, he sensed happiness and love.
"Aemon?" He inquired once more. "Everything is alright, Balerion," Aemon reassured him, through their bond before continuing. "This is Ghost, my friend, I told you about. It seems the gods have granted me another gift." Aemon continued, rubbing Ghost's white fur. "Is this Ghost? But I thought you, your mother, and your sister were the only ones who returned, right?" He asked, his confusion evident.
"I suppose not," Aemon replied. "I feel that bond is as strong as ever. He insists I follow him. There is urgent business at hand." Aemon pointed to Ghost, and they followed the direwolf into the woods.
But before he turned to the Ser Harrold.
But before he turned away, Aemon looked to Ser Harrold.
"Harrold, are you alright?" Aemon asked, his voice steady though his breath still ragged. "I'm Aemon, a bit dazed, that hit knocked the wind out of me." Ser Harrold said.
"Thankfully, you were wearing armor," Aemon said with a faint grin.
"Indeed," Ser Harrold replied, returning the smile. "But are you bleeding, my prince?"
"The gambeson helped blunt the blow. I'll have a bruise, maybe a scar, but nothing serious." Aemon paused, his gaze shifting toward the trees. "I'm sorry, but we have to follow that wolf. I don't know why… I can feel it, the same way I do with other animals."
Ser Harrold let out a resigned sigh, then gave a firm nod.
Aemon Targaryen (105 A.C.)
Seadragon Point - Wolveswood
Ghost was back, and it felt like old times. His friend had saved his life from a bear after he had been foolish and had ridden off only with Ser Harrold after his prey alone. But something else had pulled him in that direction, leading him toward the boar he was tracking, and something had told to do it alone. Instead, he stumbled upon a bear in the middle of its meal, and a quick movement spared his face from its claws but cost him a wound on his right arm.
His spear was broken, and he had no escape, but a low growl caught his attention. He turned to see a large white direwolf with red eyes that he recognized as his bond with Ghost. Ghost had launched himself onto the bear's back, and he seized the opportunity to pick up the broken spear and thrust it into its gut. The bear didn't die but threw Ghost off in its pain and panic. Ghost narrowly avoided getting his head swiped as he leaped back, then pounced on the bear's neck, holding it down. He charged the bear and planted his seax into its head.
The bear fell, a lifeless heap with blood covering both combatants. "Ghost," he murmured, and the large wolf jumped on him, licking his face and covering him in blood. After a moment of joy, Balerion landed nearby; he had sensed Ghost but couldn't connect with him. When he explained to the giant dragon who Ghost was, Balerion gave him a puzzled look, which he found quite amusing.
Afterward, his bond with Ghost was a mix of excitement and apprehension, and Ghost signaled him to follow, after he check with Ser Harrold, who fine if dazed, and then they followed Ghost. He promised to return for the bear's kill and set off on a short walk, reaching a small rock formation with bones scattered around it. It appeared to be Ghost's lair, and he followed Ghost through an opening.
"Balerion, I'm fine. You can go home again. Ghost will protect me," he reassured the dragon.
"No, I'll stay until you leave." ," Balerion responded. He landed near the gave.
"Alright, my friend. I'll see you soon," he said as he ventured deeper into the rock formation, followed by Harrold. The smell wasn't pleasant, a mix of blood and rotting meat, but what else could he expect from a wolf's lair? He thought as he entered it.
As he continued through the cave, a small opening allowed rays of sunlight to filter in. Ghost was there, licking another direwolf. She was Ghost's mate, a she-wolf of a dark grey, heavily pregnant, and his heart filled with happiness.
"May I?" he asked Ghost, stroking the she-wolf's head. She wagged her tail in response. "Good girl," he praised, turning his gaze to Ghost. "And you too, but you're going to be a dad." He said as he stroked the large direwolves head.
"Harrold, if you could wait outside, I would be surprised if the hunting party went out looking for us." He said.
Harrold gave a questionable look. "I will be alright, the wolves trust me." Harrold sighed but nodded.
Six pups were born shortly after, consisting of three females and three males. One was all white with a black spot around one eye, one was black with a white spot on its eye, one was grey with white streaks, one was all black, one was brown with grey markings, and the last one was grey and largest pup, with already open eyes, that looked at him with recognition, and they were golden like gold. "Nymeria," He stared at the pup with an open mouth.
As the dazed one went from him, he looked grateful at Ghost, who stood proudly beside his mate. All beautiful pups, and he realized that the Starks and his sisters would have direwolves once again. It was a curious thought, considering it hadn't happened before. He wondered as he looked at all the pups snuggling against their mother.
Soon, the howls of direwolves would echo through the North once more.
(Lyanna Stark Targaryen 105 A.C. Second Moon)
Seadragon Holt – Lyanna's Solar
The roar of Balerion tore through the morning air, shaking the very stones of Seadragon Holt. Lyanna nearly dropped the cup she held, her fingers trembling as the sound rolled through the keep like thunder from the gods. She stepped closer to the window, her pulse quickening, breath catching as the enormous black shadow swept across the courtyard below.
The dragon's wings carved through the misty dawn, each beat sending gusts of wind rippling over the roofs. His roar echoed off the cliffs, fading only when it met the endless sea. "Aemon… what have you done now?" she muttered, voice low but tight with unease. "If anyone wasn't awake before, they surely are now." Her grey eyes tracked Balerion's ascent as he banked northward, toward the edge of the Wolfswood—toward the direction where the hunting party had gone earlier that morning. A deep knot of dread began to twist in her chest.
Behind her, Arya had come to stand by the window, her small face pale in the morning light. "He'll be fine, Mother," the girl said, trying for confidence but betraying herself in the slight quiver of her voice. "If you know anything about my brother, it's that he's strong. He's survived more than most men ever will."
Lyanna turned to her, her expression soft but strained. "He has," she admitted quietly, "but he has died as well." The words left her mouth before she could stop them, heavy and raw, and for a moment her throat closed around the memory.
Arya frowned, her youthful stubbornness flaring. "He did… but he's come back. So far."
Lyanna's a sigh"That may be true in another life, but her he hasn't. He may has the gods favor, anything can change in momement." She reached out to smooth Arya's hair, tucking a loose strand behind her ear.
Arya muttered under her breath, "I know," though her eyes flicked once more toward the misty horizon.
Lyanna didn't respond. "Come," she said instead, forcing calm into her voice as she guided Arya toward the door. "Let's see what your brother has been up to this time. I'll not sit idle while my heart climbs the sky with that beast."
The halls of Seadragon Holt were colder than usual that morning, or perhaps it was only the unease that chilled her. Every step echoed sharply off the stone as they descended to the courtyard. The air outside was biting, the sea wind sharp enough to sting her cheeks.
Her mother was already waiting by the well, wrapped in heavy furs, her silver hair glinting like snow beneath the pale light. Beside her stood Lysa, hands clasped tightly before her, trying to hide the tremor in her fingers.
"Have you two heard anything yet?" Lyanna asked as she approached, her tone outwardly calm though her eyes darted toward the horizon, scanning for any sign of fire or smoke.
"No, not yet," her mother replied, her voice firm though her gaze lingered northward as well.
"I'm sure they'll be fine," Lysa said quickly, offering a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "If something had gone amiss, we'd have seen smoke by now—from the fires Balerion would unleash."
Lyanna's lips pressed into a thin line. She wanted to believe that, wanted to trust her good-sister's words, but she could see the flicker of fear behind Lysa's practiced composure. Rickon had gone with Aemon, too.
"Wylard!" Lyanna called when she spotted the weary-looking castellan hurrying across the yard. "Have you heard anything from the hunting party?"
He stopped before her and bowed quickly. "No word yet, my lady. I've sent riders out to find the Prince and his company," he replied.
Half an hour passed before one of the riders returned. It was Walton. The man dismounted swiftly and gave her a quick bow. "Princess Lyanna," he greeted, still catching his breath.
"Tell me, what happened to my son?" she demanded, her voice sharp with worry. But before Walton could answer, the courtyard darkened as Balerion passed overhead, blotting out the morning light.
Lyanna let out a slow breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "If something truly had happened," she murmured, half to herself, "Balerion would not be coming home so calmly."
She sighed in relief, tension easing from her shoulders as she glanced toward her daughter. Arya was smiling brightly, eyes wide with awe.
"See?" Arya whispered. "I told you he'd be fine."
Lyanna managed a small, weary smile. "Perhaps," she said softly. "But it never hurts to worry for those we love. Even dragons need their mothers' prayers."
Then she turned her attention back to Walton, her expression tightening once more. "Now, tell me what happened out there."
Walton straightened. "The Prince is safe, my lady, though he has a wound on his left arm. Shallow, but bleeding. He and Ser Harrold separated from the main hunting party to follow a boar's trail."
Lyanna closed her eyes briefly, exhaling through her nose. "Foolish boy," she muttered under her breath.
Walton nodded grimly. "The Prince tracked the boar alone and was confronted by a bear instead. When the rest of us heard Balerion's roar, we followed the sound. Ser Jeffery cursed himself the entire way for not accompanying the Prince and Ser Harrold. When we reached the clearing, we found a dead bear, a half-eaten boar, and signs of struggle. There was blood on the snow, and Aemon's broken spear was buried in the beast's belly. But there were also… strange tracks nearby."
Lyanna frowned. "What kind of tracks?"
"Large ones, my lady," Walton said, lowering his voice. "They looked like wolf prints, but far bigger than any wolf we've ever seen. Giant, almost."
"Giant wolf prints?" she repeated, her brows knitting together. Beside her, Arya's eyes widened. "It couldn't be," the girl whispered under her breath.
"I ordered some of the men to tend to the bear and the scene," Walton continued, "then followed the tracks with Lord Rickon, Lord Laenor, and Ser Jeffery. The prints led us to a clearing with a cave. There we found Ser Harrold and Balerion, waiting."
Lyanna's heart pounded harder. "And my son?"
"Inside the cave," Walton said. "Ser Harrold explained what had happened. A bear had burst from the brush and struck him down, clawing his chest. The Prince distracted it, stabbed it in the thigh, and drew it away for him. The bear struck again, and Aemon blocked the blow, though his spear snapped and the bear's paw grazed his arm. Just as the beast reared to strike again, a white direwolf leaped upon its back."
Lyanna froze. "A direwolf?" she breathed. "But they've been gone from the North for more than a hundred years."
"Yes, my lady," Walton confirmed, "but I saw the creature myself. Large as a small horse, coat white as snow."
Beside her, Arya gasped softly. Lyanna looked down at her daughter, seeing the gleam in her eyes, the same color as her father's once had been. Could it be? Her son's direwolf, reborn?
"What happened then?" Lyanna asked quietly.
"By Ser Harrold's account, the Prince drove the broken spear into the bear's belly, though it wasn't enough to fell it. The bear threw off the direwolf and turned to attack again, but Balerion's roar split the air. The wolf leaped once more, sinking its jaws into the bear's neck and dragging it down. The Prince then struck the final blow, driving his seax through the creature's eye."
Lyanna pressed a hand to her lips, her heart twisting between horror and pride. "And after?"
"Afterward, the prince calmed Balerion," Walton continued, "then insisted on following the wolf's trail. Ser Harrold tried to make him rest, but Aemon refused. He and Harrold followed the wolf to its lair, a cave deeper in the woods, and went inside, and afterward commanded Ser Harrold to wait outside."
Lyanna's brows rose. "Alone?"
"Yes, my lady," Walton said. "But when he emerged, he was not alone. He led the way, carrying six direwolf pups, tiny but strong, out of the cave, followed by two adults. He told us the wolves were meant for the Starks, for him and his siblings."
"Direwolves, returned to the Starks," Lyanna murmured, wonder and disbelief mingling in her voice. She glanced at Arya, who was grinning from ear to ear, eyes bright with excitement, and something more, something thoughtful.
"So they are coming here?" Lyanna asked.
"Yes, my lady," Walton replied. "We needed to bring the sled for the bear first, as well as one for the direwolves, the mother apparently gave birth the moment the Prince stepped into the cave. They should arrive within the hour."
She sighed in relief and ordered some drinks to be brought. And Wylard ordered everyone to continue their work.
Arya Stark Targaryen (105 A.C. Second Moon)
Seadragon Holt - Courtyard
Arya watched as her brother rode into the courtyard with their cousins beside him, and with Ghost padding faithfully at his side. The sight filled her with both wonder and pain.
It was wonderful to see a direwolf again, to see Ghost alive and whole. Yet it was painful too, for the memory of another wolf still lingered in her heart, her Nymeria, brave and fierce, who had once carried her through the godswoods, leaping across, the dead and white walkers slashed against her so Arya could strike the killing blow against the Night King. Nymeria had given her life so the living could live, and now she lay buried beneath the roots of a weirwood in a world long gone.
But as Arya's gaze met Ghost's, something stirred deep within her, a faint echo of the bond she had lost when Nymeria's soul had faded from her own.
Aemon dismounted, his left arm bound in a sling. Ghost stayed close by his side, ever watchful. "Mother," Aemon said quickly as Lyanna hurried toward him. The relief in her eyes was clear as she pulled him into a tight embrace.
"Damn it, Aemon," she scolded, her voice trembling. "Do you have any idea how worried you made us? Balerion's roar shook the foundations of your castle when he sensed your distress."
"I know," Aemon said softly, guilt flickering across his face. "I'm sorry, Mother. But I felt a pull, something I had to follow. And because of it… I'd like you to meet Ghost."
At the mention of his name, Ghost stepped forward and gently pressed his nose into Lyanna's hand, his red eyes calm and intelligent.
"Thank you for saving my son," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion as she rubbed the wolf's head. Ghost's tail flicked once.
After the greeting, Aemon turned toward Arya, a smile breaking through the fatigue on his face. "Arya," he said, "come. There's someone I'd like you to meet. You too, Mother. Rickon already has his pup, but you two don't."
Her heart swelled with joy at his words. She had never thought she would have another direwolf again. Yet beneath that joy was a flicker of envy, quiet and sharp. Her brother had Ghost back, his old companion, returned to him by some grace of the gods, while hers had been lost to time.
Ghost led them to the sled. Several tiny shapes stirred within it, pups of all colors nestled together against their mother, who lay up the sled. Ghost nosed one of the she-wolves lying beside them before stepping aside.
Then Arya felt it, the faint tug in her chest, the warmth spreading through her veins. The bond.
A soft whimper caught her attention, and her eyes found one of the pups, a small grey one with eyes already open. They gleamed gold like the sun.
Her throat tightened. "Nymeria?" she whispered.
Aemon leaned close, his voice barely audible. "Indeed."
She fell to her knees, scooping the pup into her hands, tears welling in her eyes. "Oh, I missed you, girl," she breathed, pressing her face to the pup's fur. The tiny wolf licked her cheek, and Arya laughed through her tears. "Thank you," she choked, glancing from Ghost to her brother.
Lyanna stood nearby, smiling faintly as she cradled a pup of her own, a grey coat streaked with white markings.
"It seems you have your pup too," Aemon said, but he could barely hear him as she hugged Nymeria, his tone lighter now. "Did you feel the connection?"
"I did," Lyanna said quietly, wonder in her eyes. "It was… strange, powerful. Is this how it feels every time you bond?"
Aemon nodded in reply, pride warming his voice.
"Rickon, too, has his pup," Aemon added.
Rickon grinned, holding up a lively black pup with a white patch over one eye. "In total, there's one for each of us," he said. "Four boys and four girls."
Arya looked around at them all, her family, her brother, the pups squirming against their mother's nipples for milk. Just like before, she thought. Although this time the adlust would also have wolves.
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