It took an agonizing month for Mance Rayder to set off with nigh eight thousand men to retake Bear Island as the Thenn lord took both of his sons and Mance left a large man called Tormund Giantsbane in charge of the wildling army. Bran departed with most of the Northmen for Winterfell. Awaiting word of the fate of Bear Island. He arrived at Winterfell with little noise, Summer padding beside him. Rickon was happy to see him in the least. Bran shook hands with Jojen and patted Calon and Tomtoo on the back. The stable boy was none other than Little Walder who for once had nothing to say. Maester Luwin hugged him and sent him on his way to his chambers. On his bed rested Ice, the Valyrian Steel sword as sharp and strong as ever. The sword was browning at the hilt even if the blade itself was polished. Bran looked over it and sheathed it. He carried the sword with both hands to the Godswood and rested it against the rock his father used to sit on and knelt there. For a moment, Bran felt the tears forming again. He let them out this time. He was a boy. A boy without a Father.
He was still crying when Osha and Calon arrived, Summer nestled protectively against Bran. Osha and Calon merely sidestepped the direwolf and put their hands on his shoulder. For a long time they three just stayed quiet till Osha shook him hard.
"That was quite enough. You miss your Father. No doubt. I miss my husband. But them is gone. Get up. Stop weeping and go make your father proud." Osha clenched his tunic and shoved him to his feet. Bran stumbled till Calon gave him a hand and the two of them walked to the castle where a small crowd was around the gate of the godswood. Bran dried his face with his sleeve and strode past them holding his head high. Summer whined and went off to the watering trough. Bran went to Maester Luwin's turret where the Maester was teaching Tomtoo how to read and Bran decided to go away. Rickon was in the yard under Derik's gentle tutelage. He had left Winterfell and it had barely missed him.
Word from the south was another great victory for Robb at the edge of Hayford lands. Even though the Lannisters had defeated Stannis, Robb had sped across the Riverlands and encroached into the Crownlands defeating a joint Lannister-Tyrell army near the brink even though they had half again his numbers. The letter claimed Robb entered an encirclement then doubled back to defeat the smaller army at his back taking time to kill Gregor Clegane and scatter his band before heading down again to defeat Randyll Tarly himself. Bran felt as proud as was possible of his brother. Till he remembered his own many defeats at the hands of the Ironborn. Regardless, the death of Gregor Clegane was a huge success. But Bran knew that it was Tywin Lannister that mattered. He hoped to send reinforcements to his brother when they broke Victarion Greyjoy. It was many days before that happened. Mance Rayder sent a curt letter saying that Victarion Greyjoy was dead despite hard losses and he was on his way to Winterfell having broken the Ironborn army in Bear Island.
When they arrived they carried the bodies of Styr and his son Sigorn. Mance told of how both Thenn warriors after clearing the Ironborn from Bear Island, tried to give chase in the stolen Ironborn ships. Alysane Mormont was killed by an arrow that found a gap in her armour. Styr ordered the sailors to ram Iron Victory and jumped ship to avenge his good daughter to be whilst his fellow Thenns and son followed hard after. Victarion Greyjoy split Styr's head himself and stabbed Sigorn with his own dagger after the two men fiercely wrestled to the point of chucking each other's helmets off. Mance claimed the squid lord was still struggling to stand after his victory when a volley of arrows ended his life. The body of the Ironborn lord was riddled with holes no doubt from the spikes that were on the Thenn lord's armour.
"Spikes? Aye, I saw Sigorn smashing himself against the Greyjoy. Clever boy. Even if Victarion won and got away he would have bled to death."
"Where is Goren?"
"He is Magnar now. He sailed with the fleet after dropping us off to free Flint's finger."
"Just as well. Regardless I believe once he returns it will be time to settle the Freefolk once and for all."
"Thank you Prince Stark. My wife is pregnant you know. Perhaps we can name the boy Brandon."
"I would be grateful if you did not." Mance smiled at that and walked off. Bran returned to his chambers to answer the flood of letters from his mother. Most of her earlier letters were to take care of himself and later on asking how much he remembered from his fall. Her last letter was after receiving word of Sansa's return. She asked him to be strong till her return and-. Bran stopped and read it again. And pass her warm regards to Jon Snow.
"Oh." He spoke out loud without meaning to. Then he laughed as hard as he could. He was still laughing when Rickon bounded in and jumped on his bed. Bran looked over at his little brother and patted him on the head.
"Shaggy!" One word. A word and Bran's mirth turned into dread. The black direwolf padded in softly and nestled against Bran even allowing him to rub his head. Bran released a breath he didn't know he held in and sat with Rickon on the bed. Summer stood crouching and ready to spring if called upon.
"How have you been Rickon?" Bran asked. Sure enough Rickon started rambling on and on about the various misdeeds of the Winterfell servants from refusing to bathe Shaggy to ignoring him.
He and the northern lords began drafting lands and titles for the wildlings. No one wanted the cannibal tribes but everyone wanted the giants. Houses Stark, Flint of Flint's finger and Ryswell took the brunt of the wildings. Bran decided it would be best to keep them away from the Night's Watch and White Harbor. Mance Rayder agreed to marry his wife's sister to a lord, but no one could agree who. The Umbers and Karstarks both wanted her for their lords' heirs as did the Ryswells whose heir was present to ask for her hand. The girl was quite a beauty, at least according to how Sansa always described beauties but Bran knew she was a hard woman. She would need a strong husband or he'd be ridden over. Perhaps an Umber. He would have to ask Robb. The Umbers hated wildlings. Many moons and a few Stark victories in the South later, Bran was finally able to send five thousand mixed men down to his brother and hold the feast to unite Northman and Wildling.
The lords arrived in Winterfell's Great Hall as did the Wildling chiefs, Mance was a deserter and could not sit on the High Table but his wife and Tormund did. Bran ordered the first course to be brought in. Salted bread and cheese. Many of the lords were tense once they recognized the old tradition but Bran broke his bread, sopped it and gave part to Dalla. After that each lord was cajoled to eat of it as well as the wildlings. Bran gave orders that it reach the squires and sons outside. Ser Rodrik winked at him when Ser Marlon was nudged away by a tall wildling who sprayed stew as he spoke about not needing 'Southron gods'. The Ironborn had been eradicated by their alliance and Bran hoped to join the two quick enough to march North against one common enemy. After the wildlings brought captured 'wights' as they were called, not a single northern lord disbelieved. One was even sent down to Riverrun with the reinforcements to convince Robb of the great danger. Ser Marlon was sitting beside his new house sword Nightfall that he claimed to have duelled for. Cley Cerwyn said the Harlaw who wielded it was already staggering with an arrow in his leg. And even then it was still a hard fight. He and Bran had spared and even with though he held back, Bran had barely lifted Ice to parry a slow blow. Bran hoped Ser Rodrik heard naught of it. He shuddered at the thought of Ser Rodrik's training practices. During the feast, Lyanna Mormont marched in wearing boiled leather jerkin and breeches. Meera Reed stood from her place beside Rickon and gave away her seat with a curt nod. Lyanna sat down and fixed Bran with a stare that he returned as coldly as he could. The wildlings hooted and Maester Luwin choked on his drink. Meera whispered something to her and she turned to face the older girl and nodded quickly. Bran looked away from his bride to be when Tormund Giantsbane stood up and banged on the table.
"It seems to me. That the best way for us to have a good night is a good wedding!"
"Aye!" Cley was grinning and not in a good way.
"But no woman wants you Tormund!" Bran desperately shot back.
"My lords. My ladies. We have feasted and wined. I thank you all for heeding the call to protect the North on behalf of His Grace. There are meats and mead for any man who so desires. To The King in the North!" Ser Rodrik bellowed. Bran was grateful for the rescue and joined in the salute.
"The King in the North!" Even the wildlings shouted along. Deep in southern ale the first time for nigh all of them. They had cause to be glad. House Stark had seized over sixty ships from both the Ironborn lords and their prized Iron Fleet. The ships had been shared among the Houses Ryswell, Glover and Mormont. The Ironborn had come only to lose men. Even the priest named Aeron Greyjoy was taken and beheaded by Goren. The mad priest had burnt many of his ships when he saw he had no men left to crew them. The Iron Fleet limped away from a vengeful Mormont-Thenn army. Lyra Mormont was lady of Bear Island till her mother and sister returned. She had no qualms killing Ironborn men with a crossbow or bow. Tormund Giantsbane said it was her last volley that took Victarion Greyjoy's life. Bran knew the wildling chieftain had a gift for spinning wild stories while swearing by his father. But when Lyanna Mormont declared her sister did indeed order the last volley he grew anxious at a family that had such warriors.
Meera quickly grew into a close friend of Lyanna and so did Jojen. They found a time for Lyanna and Bran to spar while Ser Rodrik was away. Unsurprisingly, Bran bested her but not with ease. The girl was a far better hand than Arya but Bran had been receiving daily lessons. She promised to best him soon. And every day they would find a way to spar together. Before long, they were matching each other. Till she strode into the yard and easily put down Tomtoo. Calon unfortunately, was still better than her and Bran. Strangely, Ser Rodrik never drove her away. He instead invited her to practice daily with the boys. Not that Bran minded. He liked the challenge. And he felt good. Despite the minor defeats he suffered, he was still the one who defended the North. He was the Direwolf who slew the Kraken and the North was safe with a Stark in Winterfell.