I once more apologize that it's taken so long for me to update. Update to this will probably be irregular, depending on my inspiration. If you're still here, hope you all enjoy the chapter.

The North

Mid-Day

It had been almost three weeks since the Free Folk had departed for Winterfell. Jon was leading their party on horseback, Val and Tormund on either side of him. Sam was behind them on his own horse, Ghost next to him, carrying Robb and Lyanna on his back.

In order to maintain the secrecy of their journey, none of them were wearing any Wildling attire, even abandoning their wildling cloaks for grey, white or black cloaks.

"We should stop for the night," Jon said, his voice carrying to every ear and their party paused. "Winterfell is less than a day's ride from here. We'll make camp, and then continue on tomorrow."

"You heard him, we stop for the night," Tormund shouted as he dismounted from his own horse, immediately going about and giving instructions on where to make camp.

Later that night, around camp, the children were eating, the adults cooking around a fire as they talked. By their own fire, Jon watched amused as Sam patiently answered any questions from Robb and Lyanna about his life in King's Landing. Val sat next to him, looking at him like she was going to say something before deciding otherwise. Jon didn't say anything, knowing she would say what was on her mind eventually.

"How do you feel? It must be strange, coming back here after all this time," Val finally said and Jon smiled tightly.

"It is, weird. I thought I had made peace with it, never coming back. Yet, now that I'm on the verge of returning to Winterfell…" Jon trailed off but Val knew him well enough to know what he was going to say.

"It makes you happy," Val said and Jon nodded.

"The North is my home. It's part of me and I can't cut it out of me, no matter how much I've tried," Jon said wistfully.

Val was once more silent, knowing Jon wished more than anything there was a way to stay at Winterfell. But the Gods had rarely decided to give her husband what he wanted. Even if Jon did decide to finally accept Sansa's offer to pardon him, Val could hardly picture herself or their children settling into life as kneelers.

Val's musings were broken by movement to the left of them. Ghost, who had been sitting by Robb, half asleep, suddenly rose to his full height, walking off, in searching of something.

"Ghost? Stay, boy," Robb called out.

But Ghost didn't turn back, which was unusual. Ghost would always come when one of the children called him. Meaning he had to hear or smell something the rest of them didn't.

"Val, Sam, stay with the children. Tormund, with me," Jon said before grabbing Longclaw.

Jon and Tormund followed Ghost to the edge of camp, wondering what had caught his attention. It wasn't long before they found it.

"Would you look at that," Tormund said in surprise, he and Jon staring.

It was another Direwolf, this one looking more like Greywind than Ghost. It was a female, and heavy pregnant at that. Jon wasn't an expert on the pregnancies of Direwolves, but it looked to Jon that this wolf was about ready to give birth.

Ghost walked up to the pregnant Direwolf and the two beasts stared at each other for a long moment, seeming to communicate silently. Then, Ghost turned, leading the other Direwolf back towards the camp. As the two beasts passed, Ghost looked over at Jon. Even if Jon and Ghost were not of one heart, Jon would have understood the message: the other Direwolf was coming with them.

"Queer, indit? Direwolves don't come this far of the Wall often," Tormund noted as he and Jon walked back to camp.

Jon was silent, remembering the last time a Direwolf had been found near Winterfell. His father had thought it a bad omen and, with everything that followed, Jon didn't disagree.

A part of him dreaded to think of what this omen might bring.

Winterfell, next day

Morning

Sansa stood in the spot she had watched Jon depart for Dragonstone all those years ago, looking up at the sky. It had been almost a moon since Gilly had arrived. If he was coming, Jon should be arriving at Winterfell any day now. It was something she was anticipating with equal part nerves and hope.

Hearing someone approach, Sansa didn't need to turn to know it was her husband. He knew her well enough to know what was on her mind, and she knew him well enough to know he'd eventually seek her out to broach the subject. She was silent, waiting for Rodrik to speak. She didn't have to wait long.

"Thinking about Jon?" Rodrik asked and Sansa nodded.

"He should be here any day now."

"And how do you feel about that?" Rodrik asked and she smiled tightly.

"Happy, nervous, scared. It's been ten years and, I know we've made our peace, yet…" Sansa trailed off but he knew what she was getting at.

"You fear Jon hasn't forgiven you," Rodrik said and Sansa was silent. "I have not met him, but from what you have told me, if he says he has forgiven you, then is there any reason to doubt his words?"

"I suppose not," Sansa acknowledged when a servant approached.

"Pardon the intrusion, Your Grace, but Lord Commander Snow ordered that you were to be informed that a party is approaching Winterfell. He also wanted you to be informed that a white Direwolf was seen with this party," the servant informed and Sansa and Rodrik exchanged a look.

Jon Snow had finally come home.

Later that day, Sansa, Rodrik, their children, along with Gilly, her sons, and Joffrey, waited in the courtyard. They could see the party approaching and, if she tried hard enough, Sansa could just make out Jon's wild mane, Tormund's bright red hair (which now had some grey in it, she noticed) and Ghost's snow white fur.

It seemed to take forever, but in actuality was probably close to ten minutes. Jon led the Free Folk into the courtyard, looking around with a hint of nostalgia. Sansa's heart raced; no doubt in her mind her brother was experiencing the same bouts of unease and joy in her at this moment.

Jon was home.

Sansa's legs seemed frozen to the ground as Jon dismounted his horse, a blond woman behind him helping two children, a boy that looked so much like Jon that Sansa was briefly taken back in time and a girl with the same blond hair as the woman, off a horse.

This must be Val, Robb and Lyanna, Sansa realized. Jon's family.

Sam disembarked as well, smiling happily as his wife and sons. Gilly beamed at him but restrained Samwell and Jon Tarly from running up to him. For it was at this moment that Jon spotted Sansa.

The courtyard was silent as Jon and Sansa stared at each other, each remembering a similar meeting, several years ago, at an entirely different castle.

"Your Grace," Jon finally said the words, all formal and respectful but Sansa saw a slight smirk on his face and mirth in his eyes, like they were sharing a private joke.

Sansa found she could finally move her legs and, almost before she could realize what was happening, she had run to Jon, throwing her arms around him. Jon almost stumbled at the unexpected contact but then wrapped his arms around her.

For a moment, it was silent before Sansa finally pulled back.

"Welcome home," Sansa said softly.

"Thank you, Sansa. Thank you for having us," Jon said before turning to Val and his children, gesturing them forward. "This is my wife, Val. And these are our children, Robb and Lyanna. Robb, Lyanna, this is my sister, your Aunt Sansa."

"Hello," Sansa said, smiling at the two children, who eyed her curiously, it saddening Sansa that her brother's children eyed her so uncertainly.

Yes, she was a stranger, but that didn't mean it didn't break her heart that their family was so distant.

"Are you two hungry?" Sansa asked and got two uncertain nods. "Well, I'm sure we have something in the kitchens. Eddard, please show Robb and Lyanna where the kitchens are, have the cooks get them some lunch."

Robb and Lyanna looked uncertainly at their father, but Jon merely nodded. A young boy of eight approached and Jon noted he had Sansa's eyes, but he was clearly of the North, he had dark hair, like his father.

"Hello. I am Eddard. I can show you to the kitchens," Eddard said, all formal and princely.

Jon fought a smile as Eddard led Robb and Lyanna off. Definitely Sansa's son.

Sansa opened her mouth to speak but, before she could get a word out, Tormund had suddenly tackled her in a bear hug. Joffrey had half raised his sword when they heard the sound of Sansa laughing.

"Red Wolf!" Tormund said happily as he spun her around like a child.

"Tormund, put me down!" Sansa ordered, still laughing and the Wildling complied. "It's good to see you again."

Joffrey replaced his weapon, realizing the queen and this Wildling were friends, something that baffled him. Rodrik, who had half charged at the Wildling, stepped back, as perplexed as Joffrey at this turn of events.

Once Tormund had set her down, Sansa looked over at Val, the two women eying each other as though sizing each other up. Sansa noted that while Val was clearly a Wildling, she carried herself differently than Tormund or other Wildlings Sansa had met. There was an almost regal like posture to Val, not quite like Daenerys, who had believed she was born to have the Iron Throne and that everyone needed to bow to her, but like Val believed she was the equal of anyone here, including Sansa.

"You must be Val. I'm Sansa Stark. Welcome to Winterfell," Sansa said graciously.

"Thank you, Sansa," Val said with matching grace.

Sansa and Val watched each other for a moment longer before Sansa turned back to the rest of her greeting party.

"Allow me to introduce my husband, Rodrik Umber and the Lord Commander of our City Watch, Joffrey Snow," Sansa introduced.

"It's an honor to meet you, Jon Snow," Joffrey said as he and Jon nodded at each other.

"You as well, Lord Commander," Jon said formerly before turning to his Good Brother. "Rodrik Umber. Last we met; it was during the Long Night."

"Aye, that it was. It was an honor to fight alongside you then. As it will be now, should we fight together against the 3-Eyed Raven," Rodrik said and Jon smiled tightly.

"There will be plenty of time to talk about that. But first, we'll need a place for our...guest. Perhaps in the Godswood," Jon said as he glanced behind Ghost.

Sansa followed his gaze and almost gasped in surprise. Behind Ghost was a pregnant Direwolf.

"How…"

"Ghost found her during the ride here. It seemed like fate," Jon explained.

Sansa nodded, still staring at the Direwolf. Like her brother, she remembered what had happened when last a Direwolf had come this close to Winterfell and birthed pups. She wondered what it meant that it had happened twice in a century.

Later that day, Jon was down in the crypt, standing in front of Ned's statue. He lit the candles before stepping back, staring up at the statue. Try as he did, he couldn't see Ned Stark's face in the statue.

"I thought I might find you here," Sansa said softly as she walked out of the shadows. "Did the Free Folk get settled in?"

"Your husband was kind enough to help me find a place for everyone. Thank you," Jon said and she nodded.

"And your family? What do they think of Winterfell?" Sansa asked and Jon chuckled.

"Robb and Lyanna just want to explore. It's bigger than anything they've ever seen," Jon said and a beat passed.

"I expected to find you in front of Aunt Lyanna's statue," Sansa noted and Jon smiled tightly.

"I thought about it. Then I passed father's statue and I thought I should pay my respects," Jon explained and Sansa raised an eyebrow.

"That's the first time I've heard you call him father since the day you found out the truth," Sansa noted and Jon was silent for a long time.

"I had a lot of time to think about him the last ten years. I was angry at him, for keeping this huge part of my life, my identity from me. But eventually, I realized he was only trying to do what he thought was right, just as I did with Daenerys. I can't say I agree with the choices he made, but if I had been in his place, if you or Arya died, birthing my nephew and asked me to protect him…I'd probably have done as he did," Jon admitted. "Rheagar Targaryen may have sired me, but Ned Stark is the only father I have ever known."

"He loved you as a son, Jon. I could see that even as a child," Sansa said softly as she walked over, taking his hand and her brother squeezed back.

For a moment, it was silent, brother and sister merely staring up at the statue of their father.

"We have to talk about Bran," Sansa said softly and Jon nodded.

"Aye. But perhaps we can do that tomorrow," Jon said and Sansa nodded.

"Tomorrow then," Sansa agreed gently.

This chapter mostly focused on the reunion between Jon and Sansa and the meeting of the families, but next chapter will start to get the plot moving.

Yes, I brought a pregnant Direwolf to Winterfell. Because the next generation of Starks deserves their own Direwolves.

Rodrik would be played by Karl Urban.