Beyond the Wall…
Deep within a cave in the frozen lands far beyond the Wall, beneath a Great Weirwood Tree, Bran Stark remained in the middle of his training as a warg and a greenseer under the tutelage of the Three-Eyed Raven himself. The journey to make it to the Three-Eyed Raven's cave was not a pleasant one; one the way with Hodor, Summer, Meera and Jojen Reed, a group of wights attacked them. And although they were eventually repelled by the last of the Children of the Forest, Jojen unfortunately did not survive the encounter. That was almost a year ago.
Now, Bran remained motionless on the ground as his eyes glaze over white. In a vision, he stood with the Three-Eyed Raven somewhere in the distant past. They stood near the mouth of the River Torentine, downriver from Blackmont and the High Hermitage.
"This is Starfall," Bran referred to his surroundings. "House Dayne lives here. This is where the Sword of the Morning hails from."
"As did every Dayne who held the title before they themselves did," the old man reminded.
"It's beautiful here."
The Three-Eyed Raven nodded. "It is beautiful beneath the sea, but if you stay too long, you'll drown."
"Do you really have to go?" a feminine voice asked.
Bran glanced at one of Starfall's side entrances where a tall young woman with long dark hair and violet eyes renowned for her great beauty emerging from the shadows. She stood in front of a Dornishmen wearing special Targaryen silverite armor bearing the Targaryen dragon on his breastplate and intricate suits of black scales.
"I must. Though I bear no love for the King for mistreating my niece and her children, for when Dorne swears an oath – we keep them," he said almost somewhat hesitant. "Aerys didn't need to threaten our countrymen to ensure our loyalty. But he knows we'd never take up arms our beloved Princess and will fight for whatever side Elia was on."
"When do you leave?"
"A fortnight, my beloved Ashara. My brother Doran has agreed to send 10,000 men to accompany me, Ser Barristan and Prince Rhaegar."
"And my brother, Lewyn?" she spoke. "Having the Sword of the Morning with you at the Trident could end the war in one swift stroke."
Leywn nodded, though he somewhat scowled. "I agree, but… Rhaegar reassigned Ser Arthur and Lord Commander Hightower elsewhere. Where he sent them, I do not know. Nor do I know why he did what he did, but once the rebels are defeated and Robert Baratheon slain, hopefully we'll get some answers. My niece deserves the right to know why Rhaegar chose to abscond with Lyanna Stark in the first place."
"Unbelievable. Shameful, disgraceful. Marriage is a sacred oath, one to be cherished – not be discarded on a whim."
"Well, we'll find out soon enough."
Bran watched as Ashara Dayne, sister to the Sword of the Morning Ser Arthur Dayne, embraced Prince Leywn Martell of the Kingsguard before unveiling a small girl behind her. She looked exactly like her mother; none of her father's features so far and couldn't have been more than at least five years old.
"Daddy?" she piped up.
Leywn knelt down to meet her at eye-level. "Be a good girl for your mother while I'm gone now, all right Ariyana?" he asked.
Ashara felt as if this might be the last time the father of her only child would be speaking to each other like this. The thought made her heart ache.
"Come home soon?" Ariyana asked.
"Don't worry, my little ray of sunshine. Your father will be back before you know it," Lewyn reassured his daughter, giving her a small pendant. He looked up at his paramour. "Ashara, if something were to ever happen to me at the Trident – take Ariyana to my nephew in Sunspear."
"Lewyn—!" Ashara protested.
"Promise me, love. Should the worst come to pass, Ariyana must be taken to safety at Sunspear. Retain her family name – House Dayne must live on. Please."
Ashara looked more distraught than usual, but nodded reluctantly. "I… I promise. Say goodbye to your father, sweetheart."
"Bye, daddy."
Believing that was more than enough for the day, the Three-Eyed Raven touches Bran's shoulder and releases him from the vision. The Stark cripple gasps, letting go of the roots as the white fades from his eyes. A Child of the Forest sits nearby in the cave, staring at him as Bran propped himself up onto his wrists as both the old man and Child of the Forest exchange a glance with each other while Bran turns to Hodor, who is sitting with his back against a wall picking at his fingers.
"Wylis," he calls out.
"Hodor?" was his simple respond.
"Yes, yes but why do you keep saying that? I saw you as a boy yesterday. You talked. Why can't you tell me what happened back then? What made you keep—?"
"Hodor."
Bran sighed, knowing his was going nowhere. "Where's Meera?" he asked.
"Hodor," he points towards the outskirts of the cave.
Meera was sitting in the snow at the base of the Great Weirwood Tree, staring out in the tundra. She was still grieving for her younger brother's death and hadn't moved from her spot until Bran crawled his way over.
"Meera, it's not safe outside the cave," he tells her.
"It's not safe anywhere, Bran," she counters. "The Three-Eyed Raven told Jojen that there's a war coming. And we're going to fight it in there."
She stood and turned away. Hodor approached and picked Bran up to carry him back inside to continue his training. Meera had no tears left to cry; all she felt was a cold bitterness towards the wights who killed her brother. Summer was curled up nearby standing guard with a Child of the Forest who was watching Bran and the Three-Eyed Raven stood motionless once more among some stones and frozen shrubbery as their eyes turned white again.
"Brandon Stark needs you," the Child tells Meera.
"For what?" she demands. "I sit in there and I watch him have his visions and nothing ever happens."
"He isn't going to stay there forever. And out there he needs you."
Meera glanced at her feet. "I know…"
In Braavos…
"What's your name?" the Waif asks, staff in hand.
Across the Narrow Sea in one of Essos' city-states, Braavos, Arya Stark was having a very hard time during her training as a Faceless Man. When she arrived at the House of Black and White with Jaqen, Arya was insistent on learning – only for the Faceless Man to accuse her of only wanting to serve herself. His acolyte, the Waif, would repeatedly accost her and hit her when she gave the expected response of 'no one.' Demanding to play the game of faces, the Waif told her again and again she already tried but failed miserably at being unable to lie convincingly.
Moments earlier, Arya had again broken the rules when she stole one of the faces off the Hall of Faces to stroll around the common area. During her stroll, Arya had witnessed a disgruntled drunken man attempt to rape a young woman. Disguised as a little girl, Arya crept close enough without either of them noticing her approach. Digging her fingers into the skin around her jawline which seems loose, she pulled her disguise over her head and leapt up at him and stabbed him in each eye with an oyster knife before slitting his throat.
When she returned, however, Arya learned Jaqen and the Waif were incredibly displeased with her actions.
ooOoo
"A girl has taken a life. The wrong life," Jaqen says disappointedly.
"I was right about her," the Waif points out.
"You were."
Arya tried to stand her ground, but Jaqen and the Waif were too fast as they apprehended her, grabbing her wrist and clamping her into a double arm bar with a strength belied by the Waif's size. The more she struggled, the more Arya realized she couldn't move. She was utterly helpless and at their mercy; Arya notices Jaqen removing a vial from his robes and uncaps it.
"That man's life was not yours to take. A girl stole from the Many-Faced God. Now a debt is owed. Only death can pay for life!"
Arya believed the vial of poison was meant for her and struggled against the Waif's grip, but to her surprise Jaqen drank the entire vial himself and fell to the floor.
"No!" she cried out. "Don't die! Don't die!"
"Why are you crying?" asked the Waif.
"He was my friend!"
"No he wasn't. Didn't you listen to him? He was no one."
When Arya turns, the Waif is no longer the Waif but Jaqen; pulling the face over his head, he looked completely unharmed. Arya is both relieved and confused.
"But… if you're… Then who's this?" Arya asks, quickly pulling the mask off 'Jaqen' and tosses it away, revealing another unfamiliar face.
"No one at all," Jaqen repeats. "Just as a girl should have been before she took a face from the hall. The Faces are for No One. You are still someone. And to someone, the Faces are as good as poison."
Trapped in a seemingly endless loop, Arya pulls off another face, another face, and another face before the final face she sees is her own—lying there, glassy-eyed. And as Arya looks into her own dead eyes, her sight begins to grow hazy before everything goes black.
"What's happening? I can't see!" Arya shouts in terror. "What's happening?!"
ooOoo
Without the use of her eyesight, Arya shook and was forced to rely on her hearing to track the Waif's movements. She rushed to her feet and gripped her staff but had no idea where the Waif was before being smacked across the face.
*WHACK!*
Arya stumbled and spat blood from her mouth before approaching the sound of the Waif's voice, who had already stealthily moved around her right flank.
"What's your name?" she repeats.
"No one," Arya answers.
"I don't believe that. You don't believe that."
Arya tightly grips her staff and swings at the Waif, but misses and is hit in the side. She swings again, but misses again. The Waif hits Arya on the other side, who rushes towards her and trips on some steps, falling to the ground. She grabs her staff and stands back up. After three more hits from the Waif, Arya stands up and swings again and misses for a third time. The Waif hits her in the face, knocking her to the ground again. Arya begins panting heavily as she returns to her feet, screams, and swings her staff around her many times—unaware that the Waif has disappeared. The Faceless Man, taking on the visage of Jaqen H'ghar, catches Arya's staff mid-swing.
"Who are you?" Jaqen asks.
"No one," Arya replies.
"If a girl says her name, a man will let her sleep under a roof tonight."
"A girl has no name."
"If a girl says her name, a man will feed her tonight."
"A girl has no name."
"If a girl says her name, a man will give her eyes back."
"A girl has no name."
Jaqen looks pleased and releases her staff. Arya turns around and walks to her beggar basked, but is stopped halfway.
"Leave it," the Faceless Man tells her. "A girl is not a beggar anymore."
Out of options, Arya followed Jaqen and the Waif back to the House of Black and White. Once inside, Arya was forced to endure harsh training despite her blindness. Sparring with each other on a raised platform, the Waif scrapes her staff around the floor and pushes the end of it against Arya's head. The more exercises they did, the more Other times, both Arya and the Waif sit on the ground across from each other.
"Who are you?" the Waif repeats her question once more.
"No one," Arya answers.
*WHACK!*
After getting hit in the side, Arya shifted her posture to a more calm and composed, yet detached expression.
"Who were you before you came here?"
"Arya Stark."
"Tell me about Arya Stark's family."
"Her father was Eddard Stark. Her mother is Catelyn Stark. She had one sister, Sansa, and four brothers—"
*WHACK!*
"Three brothers," she corrects herself. "Robb, Bran, Rickon. And a half-brother, Jon."
"And where are they now?"
"Sansa is still Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. Robb remains being Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. Jon left to join the Night's Watch when a girl was younger. The others may be dead for all a girl knows."
"Tell me about the Oathkeeper."
"Arya Stark was not sure what to make of Daveth Baratheon. He eluded her."
*WHACK!*
"He protected a girl's sister. She loved him, and he in turn grew to love her."
"Why did he elude her?"
"She thought him as anti-social; cold, uncaring."
"She sounds confused."
"Yes, she was. Perhaps a part of her still is."
The Waif walks away, but stops when Arya begins to stand up and hold her staff out at her. The two began exchanging blows again, but Arya knocks back the Waif. Jaqen looks on as he watches Arya show rapid signs of improvement. The Waif returns with a heavy blow, but Arya blocks it. Eventually, Jaqen brings Arya to a well in the center of the room and offers her a cup of water from the well.
"If a girl tells me her name, I will give her eyes back," he promises.
"A girl has no name," Arya answers.
Satisfied with her progress, Jaqen transfers the cup to Arya – who seems hesitant to drink it. The Faceless Man sensed this.
"If a girl is truly no one, she has nothing to fear."
Inhaling and exhaling, Arya steadily drinks the water and closes her eyes. Opening them slowly, it is revealed that the blindness has left Arya's eyes and once again shined a dark brown hue.
"Who are you?" asks Jaqen.
"No one," Arya repeats herself.
At Castle Black…
Today was the day of reckoning for the mutineers who conspired and murdered the now-resurrected Jon Snow. Observing from the balcony overlooking the courtyard, Stannis and Melisandre watched closely while Mance, Tormund, Davos and the Night's Watch stood in attendance on the ground. Ser Alliser, Yarwyck, Bown and Olly were all rounded up on a platform with their hands tied and had nooses wrapped tightly around their necks for the inevitable execution. Accompanying Jon were Eddison and Grenn, who pushed past the attendants until Jon stepped onto the platform and stared at them.
"If you have any last words, now is the time," he states.
"You shouldn't be alive," protested Bowen. "It's not right."
Jon's expression was hard and cold. "Neither was killing me." He replied before looking at Yarwick.
"My mother's still living at White Harbor," the First Builder mentions. "Could you write her? Tell her I died fighting the wildlings."
Jon did not reply and moved to First Ranger Alliser Thorne.
"I had a choice, Lord Commander," he said simply. "Betray you or betray the Night's Watch. You brought an army of wildlings into our lands. An army of murderers and raiders. If I had to do it all over knowing where I'd end up, I pray I'd make the right choice again."
"I'm sure you would, Ser Alliser."
The First Ranger nodded and resigned himself to his fate. "I fought, I lost. Now I rest. But you, Lord Snow, you'll be fighting their battles forever."
Stannis and Selyse watched Jon move to Olly; after a moment of silence from Jon, the boy stares back at him, his face filled with seething hatred and unwavering in his actions. Jon was deeply disappointed with the boy.
'He's younger than Bran. Why did you have to force me to do this, Olly?' he thought sadly.
*SHIIIIING!*
Jon turned away from the mutineers and walked towards the rope holding their nooses in place, drawing the Valyrian steel sword Longclaw from its sheath. The air was filled with a tense silence before anyone in attendance took a breath—though Jon's was heavy and loud.
"The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword," Eddard's voice ran through his head.
Once again being forced to steel himself, Jon again acted with his father's law of accordance and swings Longclaw back behind him before bringing it down with a rapid slash, personally cutting the trapdoor rope. The board under Alliser, Bowen, Yarwyck and Olly fell from under them and their bodies dropped, snapping their necks as they choked and gagged on their final breaths in strangulation before their movements ceased. When Jon exhaled and looked up at the swinging corpses, their faces turned blue and bloated – but it was Olly's face that haunted him the most.
Stannis nodded his head in approval and marched down the balcony with his men. "You did the right thing, Lord Commander," he tells Jon.
"Our way is the old way, Lord Stannis. My father told me that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword himself, not let someone else do it for him."
"Hmm. Good man, your father. Stubborn, but an honorable one. What will you do now?"
Jon shook his head. "What will you do now?" he changed the subject.
Stannis looked at him. "My troops and I are leaving Castle Black immediately. This snow could turn heavy at any moment, and now that winter's here it'll get worse with that storm coming our way. 'Winter is coming.' Those aren't just Stark words, it's a fact. Who can say how many years this winter will last. From her on, we go forward and only forward. Remember that, Jon Snow."
"I understand. Safe journeys, my lord."
"Hmm."
Stannis, Selyse, Shireen and their personal guards along with those who accompanied their liege lord to the Wall on a long march down south. The North was still by far the largest of the Seven Kingdoms and the weather was bound to be treacherous as the southern host resumes its march.
"We should burn the bodies," Eddison pointed out.
Grenn nodded. "We've seen what happens when someone dies this far north; can't risk that ever happening again. Not like the Fist of the First Men or Hardhome."
"You should burn them," Jon said removing his cloak.
Eddison and Grenn looked at Jon rather stunned as he handed his cloak over to the former.
"Wear it, burn it, do whatever you want. You have Castle Black," he continued and passed through the Night's Watch brothers and Free Folk. "My watch is ended."
Mance knew something was up and motioned for Eddison, Grenn and Tormund to follow. They pursued him up the stairs and into Jon's room to find him backing a bag of his belongings. Longclaw is lying on a table.
"Where you gonna go?" Eddison asked.
"Home," Jon answered.
"And what will you do once you return to Winterfell, Jon Snow?" Mance implored. "You were with us at the Fist of the First Men and Hardhome. You saw what's out there like the rest of us, even during your time with the Free Folk. We all know the White Walkers are the real threat here. And you want to just give up and run away?"
"I'm not running," he denied. "I did everything I could. You know that."
"You swore a vow, Jon. We all did," Grenn insisted.
Jon slammed his bag down in annoyance. "Aye, I pledged my life to the Night's Watch. I gave my life."
"For all nights to come."
"They killed me, Grenn! My own brothers! You want me to stay here after that?"
Nothing mattered to Jon anymore, none of it did. Freed from his vows, he longed to return to Winterfell. He wanted to go home, but he knew that there was still some truth in what Mance and Eddison said. The Night King, the White Walkers, the Army of the Dead… all of it was real. With the last Free Folk settlement wiped out, it would only be a matter of time before the undead marched south towards the Wall.
"I never should have left Winterfell," Jon sighed.
Mance put a hand on his shoulder. "If you hadn't, you'd end up being like the other southerners, Jon Snow. Now I can't tell you what to do, you're a young man, baby crow. But you can't escape the undeniable truth. I lost almost all my people out there; been that way for years. You want to know how many times the Free Folk got our asses handed to us?"
"Piss on that!" Tormund belched. "We got knocked down, but the Free Folk got back up and kept on movin'. Sure we've got ourselves a bit of fertile farmland with some abandoned mills south of the Wall, but even then we Free Folk know we'll never be safe for long. So like it or not, Jon Snow, where you go we go."
Jon blinked. "Wha…?"
"You think being King-Beyond-the-Wall is a special title given to one of the Free Folk? No, we follow whoever earns our respect," Mance explained. "17,000, Jon Snow. That's how many of us are left. We might not exist anymore when all is said and done if the Night King comes here. Like you said, if we're gonna beat them then we need to stand together."
"The crows killed you because you spoke for the Free Folk when no other southerners would. You died for us. And if we're not willing to do the same for you, we're cowards. And if that's what we are, we deserve to be the last of the Free Folk."
"We can't defend the North from the White Walkers and the south from those who want to kill us. So if you're going to Winterfell, we're going with you."
"What about the others?" Jon asked.
Mance smirked. "Oh no need to worry about them; every man, woman and child know the stakes. We know the risks, but we jumped on board anyway."
Jon contemplated their words before picking up his bags and Longclaw once more. Nodding his head, Jon put on a new Northmen wolf's cloak around his leather attire. The direwolf sigil of House Stark is pressed into the leather straps—a gift from the maids before his departure years ago. A bit old and worn, but it still fit him.
"Try not to knock down that new cloak while I'm gone, you two," Jon said to Eddison and Grenn.
Knowing this was actually might indeed the last time they were going to see him, Eddison and Grenn both hugged Jon and thanked him for his leadership and contribution to the Night's Watch.
"Good luck out there," Eddison said.
"We'll never forget you, Jon," Grenn agreed.
All of them returned to the courtyard where they saw dozens of wildlings and Wun Wun standing the tallest among them. The Night's Watch brothers stood aside as Jon, Mance and Tormund prepared to leave Castle Black behind them. Snow looked up at Wun Wun who glanced down at him.
"Snow," the giant grunted.
Jon smiled and mounted his horse, accompanied by Tormund and Mance before riding off. Eddison and Grenn watched Jon leave before the latter left to train some of the new recruits in martial combat. A man of the Night's Watch approaches Eddison who still watched Jon and the wildlings leave.
"Should we close the gate, Lord Commander?" he asked.
Eddison shook his head. "I'm not the Lord Comman— oh, you sneaky son of a bitch, Jon." He notices more men gathering around him. "Yeah, ahem, right. Close the bloody gate."
Chapter End
Author's Note: This cameo chapter I wanted to briefly focus primarily on the three Starks and what occurred in the timeskip. It was long overdue that we get to see Bran Stark back in the picture and the identity of Ariyana Dayne's father has finally been revealed. What do you guys think? Bran is still training under the Three-Eyed Raven, Arya still trains in Braavos to be a Faceless Man and Jon Snow leaves Castle Black and the Night's Watch behind him to go back to Winterfell. Think any of this would play a role in the battle that is to come? Thoughts? Let me know.
johnnylee619: Oh man, Jon is my favorite section of the story right now. Can't wait for the reunion with some of his family.
birdy: this was a great read i cant wait for the next chapter please update as soon as you can please
Hear My Fury: Um, what a twist? Honestly I did not expect Lewyn Martell to be the father of Ariyana. But one nitpick. Lewyn was the uncle of Doran, Elia and Oberyn. Not sure how to feel about it. I kind of wanted her to be a Stark considering how loyal she is to Sansa but I'll go with it.
―I imagine I'll be getting more different reactions now that the cat's out of the bag.