South of Winterfell

Bael trailed Willam's horse as he and his escorts neared home.

Wyl and Heward arrived just as the household sat down for supper, he had admitted it was a shock to hear his father wanted him home when he still had a few more years to foster with Lord Wyman.

Indeed, after six years away he had gotten so used to being in White Harbor that he almost didn't wish to leave.

He spent the morning after getting the news just going about the castle saying his farewells, to his surprise, Wylla didn't want him to leave and said if he returned then she wouldn't prank him anymore.

Will told her he wouldn't forgive her if she didn't even if he was wary of her calculating brilliance.

Lord Wyman and his sons gave him his farewells, Wyman picking him the best horses to carry them and an escort to protect them halfway to Winterfell. Ser Wylis told him not to forget his training, to maintain his sword arm and his mind with books.

Saying goodbye to Wyn was a little hard for him, even after the promises they made to one another. She gave him a parting kiss on the cheek, wished him well, and hoped to hear from him via raven.

They left the next day and have been riding home since then.

Wyl said something about the King coming to Winterfell, Willam became wide-eyed and asked why but the guardsman didn't know why. It made the second son of the Starks theorize and made up scenarios in his head.

Marriage packs?

Naming Father to the Small Council?

Just a simple visit to one friend, a thousand leagues from King's Landing?

He gulped thinking it had something to do with war, it's been years but even he was afraid that his father wasn't going to come back when Theon's family rebelled against the Crown.

"There she is, Will?"

Willam smiled warmly at the sight of his home, the worries and theories as for the royal visit a memory as he was truly back to his home.

He wondered how his brothers and sisters were. They wrote but it was hard to not think about how Bran or Arya grew, and little Rickon who he had never met as he was away in White Harbor.

Excitement built up as Will put his steed in a full gallop, Wyl, Heward, and Bael chasing after him.

Willam had dreamt of this moment, he was a little older and full of much more facial hair but he was home. His family would all embrace him and they would feast from sun down to sun up.

What he was met with was an empty yard, faint cheering, and merriment could be heard from the keep but no one was expecting him. "So much for a bright welcome... " He sulked slightly though that stopped when he heard the swinging of a weapon.

Not far from the main door, he saw an older boy throwing all his weight against a practice dummy.

Will had to squint as he was quite older and had a head full of dark brown hair and eyes greyer than his own. His eyes widened as he swiftly dismounted from his horse, "Jon?"

Jon Snow. His bastard brother and one of the two he looked up to most turned and eyes gapped in surprise, "Willam?" Jon dropped his weapon and took a single step forward.

Both brothers embraced each other and their direwolves analyzed one another, siblings though they too were separated at a younger age. Jon pulled away and ruffled his hair, "You got taller, little brother."

"Not as tall as you, I do say you're more womanly since we last saw one another." His jest made Jon red in the face and both he and him wrestled for a bit before calming down. "Where is Father? I heard the King had ridden here from the South."

"Aye, it seems Father is going to be the new Hand of the King." So he had been right on one theory, at least.

Willam frowned, "Why are you out here? Not feasting with our siblings... "

"Your Mother, she thought it would insult the royals to seat a bastard in their midst." Fie on that, word is the King has more bastards than Aegon IV. Well, or so he had heard once or twice from Southern merchants visiting the Merman's Court.

Wearing his smile, Willam took his brother's arm, "Come on, brother. Let's see the rest of our brothers and sisters." Jon tried to resist saying that Mother won't like it but Willam assured him she couldn't exactly do anything if he made Jon come along.

The two and his other escorts entered and Willam set down his sword by the door before making their way to the front of the dais.

Sansa was the first to spot him, and then Arya who seemed to be preparing to fling something with her spoon. "Willam!" Both girls shouted and hurried to get out of their seats.

Bran hopped over one of the tables and jumped into his arms, "You came home!" Robb shouted and also gave him a tight hug but he didn't mind.

These were his family. He loved them all as equally and as fiercely.

His siblings parted when Father and Mother appeared, and Willam bowed his head once to his father. The Lord of Winterfell smiled widely and brought him close so he and his mother could share in the embrace. "Welcome home, my sweet boy." Mother said tearfully.

"Is this your other boy, Ned?" A booming voice asked from behind them.

"Yes. Son, this is the King, Robert Baratheon." He knows and he was surprised that his grace was so tall and so large around the belly.

Not nearly as wide as Lord Wyman but no less huge. Willam tried to kneel but the King waved him off, extending a hand instead which he took. 'Gods the grip!" He thought and felt his whole hand get swallowed by the King's hand. "You look just like Ned, albeit a little less dour." His grace said with a laugh.

"Thank you, my King." Willam said and pulled Jon in, "I don't believe you met my other brother, this is Jon Snow."

He didn't pay attention to the worried looks on his mother and father's faces, nor the agape expressions of his siblings especially Sansa who stared with some shock.

The point was that Jon may just be his father's bastard son, but he is his brother and that much deserves respect.

The remainder of the night followed with him regaling his siblings and Theon of his favorite moments inside the city of White Harbor. Jon looked about as uncomfortable as he was when Daryn tried to drag him to the Lazy Eel as a joke.

The King was funny and the Queen as beautiful as her eldest son who his sister Sansa admired from afar.

Willam did find himself missing White Harbor, just a little but throughout the night most was forgotten... Except Wynafryd and he wondered if she was thinking of him as well.

When everyone turned in for the night he was walking down to his old room and bumped into one of the King's children.

Myrcella Baratheon was beautiful, her curly golden locks fell past her shoulders and hung on the green dress she wore. "I am sorry, Princess. Here, let me help you up."

"No it is I who should apologize, I was wandering the halls and wasn't looking where I was going." She said and sounded so sweet, almost sing-song-like.

Willam laughed, "We will share the blame then, heh." Her eyes were a wonderful green. "Do you want an escort to your chambers?" Her kingsguard protector cleared his throat and Willam grew red with embarrassment. "Alright, then. I... Good night, Princess." He scurried off and found his chambers quickly closing the door.

Maybe it was the helmet but the way the knight looked down at him, he nearly thought he was going to have duck a sword swing.

Back in the hall, Myrcella turned to Ser Arys, "You scared him off, Ser Oakheart."

Arys Oakheart rolled his eyes at the Princess, "My Princess, I am from the Reach. He was being a charmer." She hummed and was confused, they were both too young for such things.

He was just being kind, is all.