In the spirit of arriving in the North as allies and not conquerors, Daenerys decided that neither she nor her sister would arrive on the backs of their dragons. Instead, they would sail to White Harbour and then march alongside the army with Jon Snow at their side. Rhaena did not disagree that this was a better image to present to the suspicious northerners, and so was willing to send off Rhaegal with his brother with a kiss to his snout before boarding the ship that would take them away from Dragonstone. Rhaena had watched the castle gradually recede from sight and wondered if she would ever again return to it. She could very well die soon, if the Night King was not able to be vanquished with his army. All the living would die then be raised back from the dead, and the castles, forts and homesteads of Westeros would all crumble into ruin to be forgotten by the ages. It was a chilling thought, so Rhaena turned aside from her mind and sought other means to distract herself. Unfortunately, there was little distraction to be had other than conversations with Tyrion and Varys…or the realisation that her sister had made Jon Snow her newest lover. Having heard their lovemaking, Rhaena had at first been nothing short than stupefied by the realisation. After the initial shock, Rhaena then settled upon the truth, reasoning that both were grown adults and unmarried, it did not matter what happened between their sheets, so this too Rhaena put to the back of her mind.
Instead she focused on what lay before her. She was returning to Winterfell where Robb, Sansa, Rickon and now Bran would be waiting for her. The latest raven from Sansa told her that Arya had also found her way home, and so all of the Stark siblings after many years were finally all reunited. Rhaena smiled to herself as she watched the ocean roll before her. She longed to see Bran for herself, to see him awake and smiling at her and wondered if he was much changed from the child she remembered. She prayed not. There was nothing Rhaena wanted more than to hear him laugh and beg her for a story or a song, to sit with him and talk in whispers as they had all those years ago. Although he could no longer walk or climb…Bran may yet fly. Rhaena planned to take him into the skies upon Rhaegal so that he could see Winterfell from above as he had loved to do before he had fallen from the Broken Tower. Despite the looming darkness and threat of endless night with winter's breath preparing to exhale upon all Seven Kingdoms…Rhaena felt a pure and peaceful joy in the simplicity of seeing old friends once again.
And so, she endured the journey with increasing anticipation, counting the days as they moved closer and closer to their final destination until they were marching with Daenerys' armies. Mounted upon her courser White Tempest, Rhaena often galloped ahead in order to survey the roads just to receive the sensation that she was moving more swiftly towards Winterfell. Of course with such a large army at their backs it was impossible not to be noticed and draw the attention of the northerners, and when passing through Winter Town, Rhaena smiled to the people who gathered in order to stare at them in awe. She understood their hesitation, after all not only were she and her sister strangers to them, but they marched with Unsullied and Dothraki, hosts of foreigners whose like had never before been seen by the sheltered people of the north. It did not matter, all that mattered was that the people would be protected by the invaders coming towards them, and so as Rhaena smiled and waved to some of the children, she earned little giggles and grins in return. She even passed out sweets she carried in her pockets, leaning out of her saddle to drop them into the children's hands until they began to realise that she was giving away gifts and started to laugh and chase after her. Jon chuckled richly at Rhaena's antics whereas Daenerys merely watched her stiffly. Although the rift between them had healed, Rheana sensed that Daenerys was refraining from being as open and affectionate as before. Whenever they spoke there was always an air of stiffness between them, her sister rarely setting aside her image as queen and acting only as a sister might. Perhaps it was only in Rhaena's imagination, yet still, it gave her cause for concern. She kept such worries to herself, however, and instead enjoyed being back in the north which she deeply loved, and once she had set her eyes upon Winterfell, dug in her heels to her courser's flanks and charged him directly for the gates, leaving Jon and Daenerys behind.
When she clattered into the courtyard she reined Tempest in swiftly so that he threw back his head and reared, both horse and rider breathless from the sudden burst of speed but even before Tempest had settled back all four hooves onto the snow trodden ground Rhaena had flung her leg over the saddle and dropped down, striding forwards as she looked at four of the Stark children, though in truth none of them were children any longer. Robb smiled to her brightly, warmly welcoming her back as he stepped forwards and embraced her first, even kissing her brow as Rhaena breathed in his presence. "It is good to be back." She murmured softly as Sansa claimed her next, and although glad to see them as well as Rickon, it was Bran she looked to. He sat upon a chair fashioned with wheels, his legs covered in a thick fur to hide their crooked appearance. Gone was the plumpness of his cheeks where instead his face was smooth and distinct, perhaps a little thin, but he was alive and this was all that mattered. "Bran." His name caught in her throat, little more than a breathless sob as Rhaena reached towards him, intending to take his hands in hers and embrace him but something stilled her movements. Bran was looking at her, but it felt as if he was not entirely seeing her. He seemed far away, distant and aloof. Confused by such a cold receival, Rhaena glanced to Sansa and Robb who both shared a look of distress before she looked at Bran once more. "Bran." Speaking more firmly, Bran blinked slowly before then turning his head and looked at Rhaena, as if only then viewing her. He studied her for a few moments.
"Hello Rhaena. It is good to see you." Hurt flashed through her features and with a twist of her heart, Rhaena understood then that the Bran she had known was no more. The boy was long gone, and before her now was little more than a stranger. Rhaena would have gladly wept for the loss of Bran the boy, but she held herself in check and instead offered an unsteady smile to Bran and thanked him for his welcome as Rickon then tackled her with an embrace. At the very least, Rickon seemed to be a little more like his old self. Fixing her arm around the youngest of the Stark siblings, Rhaena kissed the crown of his head atop his curls before informing everyone present that her sister and Jon were on their way and would be with them soon. Robb nodded and drew himself upright, glancing once more to Rhaena. He did not know what to expect from this sister of hers and it made him uneasy waiting for her. He remained styled as the King in the North, yet it had already been demanded that he give up his crown and title in order to swear fealty to this Dragon Queen. Not knowing her character, Robb could only hope that this sister of Rhaena would not withdraw her support if he refused. Did he even have the choice to refuse? In truth the crown meant very little to him in the grand scheme of things, but he held on out of pure stubbornness. He would not bend the knee to a stranger, not until he knew their worth. His father had bent the knee to untrustworthy foes and had lost his head because of it. Robb was adamant not to make the same mistake.
In truth when Robb first beheld the Dragon Queen, he was somewhat disappointed. She was a small thing, beautiful yes, but having grown accustomed to Rhaena's presence which was vibrant and warming, this sister seemed utterly lacking. She smiled sweetly and greeted them all graciously, it was true, but she held none of Rhaena's overflowing brightness, a touch of coldness lining her voice even as she complimented the north for it's beauty. If this was the Dragon Queen, then Robb felt he had very little to worry over other than the fact that she had the command of two dragons and a rather extensive army. Daenerys Targaryen herself was a sore disappointment, though he kept such thoughts to himself. He welcomed the Dragon Queen as was expected of him, returning the cordial politeness until Bran interrupted them sharply, impatient to begin the preparations and share the news they had received from the Wall of the Night King's movements. "We don't have time for all this. The Night King has your dragon." Daenerys froze and stared at Bran in shock, not fully understanding the words he was speaking. "He's one of them now. The Wall has fallen, the dead march south." Hitching the breath in her throat, Rhaena grasped onto Rickon for support as she felt herself waver, thinking of Viserion and what he had become. If Bran's words were true, then the Night King had raised him from the dead. She thought of the bear she had seen in the North beyond the Wall, how it had been partly decayed with bright glowing blue eyes. If this was true, then Viserion was now just like that bear. Dead, yet undead. Rage filled her once the shock had worn away, an expression of fury darkening her features.
Burdened with the news that the Wall had fallen, all the Lords and Ladies of the North gathered before King Robb and Queen Daenerys, accompanied by their own people. Rhaena felt a little torn in where to stand, so elected to simply stand by the hearth as she listened to the discussions, further preparations being made, wagons and horses given to those who did not have enough of their own, until finally the question of loyalty was broached. The northerners did not want to bend the knee to this strange queen, and this fact irked Daenerys deeply. She had won the love of Jon Snow, so why not these people? Even Sansa, whom she had treated with kindness, sided completely with her brother. She would have demanded their loyalty there and then, but Tyrion had already advised her to be patient. She had waited this long for her subjects to swear to her, she could wait a little longer. According to her Hand, the sooner she proved to them that she was a just and gracious queen, they would come to love her. Tyrion spoke as he always did ,wisely and eloquently, soothing the tempers of the northern people to persuade them that they must set aside all differences in order to simply survive. He was truly an invaluable servant, Daenerys trusted him, however her sister…she could not help but feel uncertain concerning her sister, Rhaena.
She was beloved by many people, and yet she did not use the love she was offered to further her queen and sister's goal. It irked Daenerys to see how people responded to her, how they smiled and laughed with her, how effortlessly they spoke to her and showed her deference and respect. When Rhaena spoke, everyone listened. Perhaps if she were the one vying for the Iron Throne, the North would have already bent the knee to her. Daenerys could see the devotion in the Wolf King's eyes whenever he looked at her, the slight tilt of his smile, the softness of his motions towards her. Daenerys knew that look, and so thoughts began to rise to mind. Perhaps this would be beneficial after all. After the war with the Night King and once Cersei had been dethroned, Daenerys thought that she might persuade Robb to abandon his throne in exchange for retaining his seat and title as Warden of the North…and with the promise of Rhaena's hand in marriage. It was a suitable match, and if Daenerys took Jon Snow as her own husband, then their houses would be united twice over and there would be no reason for either of them to be against one another. She would broach this suggestion to Tyrion, no doubt he would have his own opinions concerning the matter, and Rhaena would do whatever Daenerys commanded of her. They were sisters, it was true, but first and foremost, Daenerys was her queen. She would obey her.
Satisfied that a resolution was in hand, Daenerys settled herself to listen to the rest of the meeting far more relaxed than when she had arrived.