Game of Thrones: The Direwolves in the North

Chapter 25: Home in Winterfell (Part 1)

Just after breaking his fast, his sister, Sansa had insisted that Bran should sit with them to hold court for their people and perform their duties as Lord of Winterfell and as King in the North.

Jon sat at the center, with Bran on his right, and Sansa on his left. For days holding court with him, Sansa had easily gotten use to it. But he didn't know how Bran handled it with ease. Even on his wheeled chair, sitting next to him, Bran projected more self-confidence and poise than he ever did. Jon figured that it was because Robb left Bran as the Stark in Winterfell when he declared war on Joffrey for executing their father. Bran had to grow up fast. He had to become Lord of Winterfell at age of ten, and control the entire North in their eldest brother's absence, and also, taking care of their youngest brother, Rickon.

He could also see their father in Bran, too. Like their father, a second-born son, Bran had to take the responsibilities of a title that wasn't supposed to be his. Jon felt like they were repeating history: Their father and eldest brother rode south on a king's demand, with their brother trying to save their father and bargain for their captive sister.

"That's everyone," Bran noted. "For today, at least." He said.

Jon was so lost in thought that he hadn't notice Bran and Sansa calling his attention.

"Jon," Sansa called. "Everything alright?" She asked.

"I'm alright." He said. "I was just...lost in my thoughts."

"Well, if you are in thought," Sansa started to say. "Try to think about what we're going to do with the Dreadfort with the Boltons gone."

Bran cleared his throat. "I thought you were giving the Dreadfort to the Free Folk." He said.

But before Jon could answer, Maester Wolkan rushed into the great hall. "Your grace," He bowed. "My lords and ladies." He handed a folded parchment to Sansa. "For you, princess."

Sansa took the parchment then her eyes widened and turned back to the Maester.

"What is it?" Jon asked.

"It was sent from Riverrun, my lady." Maester Wolkan informed.

Sansa read the contents and her eyebrows furrowed.

"But I thought Riverrun was under the control of the Freys." Bran said. "And Uncle Edmure's a prisoner at the Twins, right?" He asked.

When Sansa was done reading, she smiled at them. "Not anymore." She showed them the parchment and the blue sealed wax with a leaping trout. The sigil of House Tully. "Uncle Edmure's back in Riverrun. And we have Arya to thank for it."

"What?" Jon said in disbelief as he took the parchment from his sister and read silently.

"My dear niece Sansa,

At your sister's request, I have sent this letter to inform you that the Freys of the Crossing who murdered my sister—your mother, brother, sister by law, and our entire forces have been taken care of with the help of loyal Tully bannermen of which your sister, Arya had rallied together. Now, I have called upon the bonds of our words, Family, Duty, Honor, and declare the Riverlands in support for your brother, Jon Stark, as the King in the North, the Vale and the Trident, as Robb was before him.

Edmure Tully, Lord of Riverrun."

When he was done, Jon set the letter down, and Bran took it from him.

"The Riverlands is back in our fold." Sansa said with delight. "You're not just the King in the North and the Vale, but the Trident as well." Her smile disappeared, when she saw his expression. "What is it?" She asked.