The Son of the North Returns

Silence reigned supreme as the Lord of Winterfell moved closer, hints of surprise still visible in his expression. Finally, they stood in front of each other and he could almost sense the crowd holding their breaths, wondering what would happen next.

Jon was quiet as well, waiting for his father to compose himself. Ned stared at him for a long moment, his eyes examining him for a long moment. But then, after what seemed like an eternity but could have only been a few seconds, his face broke into a wide smile.

"Look at you," He said, with a look of pride on his face. "You are man grown now."

The Bastard of Winterfell grinned back, feeling pleased now that the uncertainty of dread was passing. "I have so many stories I wish to tell you, father. The world outside of Westeros is vast indeed. And when Arya invited me to her nameday festivities, I couldn't bring myself to stay away. I hope that's alright."

"Of course it is," Eddard Stark responded, filling his voice with conviction."You are my blood and enough time has passed. You are welcome to stay for as long as you need."

"Thank you," He said in a small voice, unable to stop himself from getting emotional.

"There is nothing to thank," The Great House Lord said as he shook his head. "I am just sorry about how we parted ways. Can you forgive me?"

Jon sighed. "I won't deny I was angry for a time. There were sleepless nights where I wondered why you didn't take my side. But...I am proud of my achievements since crossing the Narrow Sea. I would never have done, learned, and seen so much without reason to head to Essos. So, if you mean it when I say I am welcomed here after all this time, then yes, I forgive you, father. And for the record, I have missed you."

Ned Stark placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled warmly. "How it pleases me to hear that. Welcome home, son."

And with that, they hugged, feeling as if a big weight had been lifted from their shoulders while the crowd cheered, Arya shouting loudest of all.

"Jon! Jon! Jon!" They chanted.

Once they broke away, the Lord of Winterfell raised a hand to quiet the people.

"The King will arrive tomorrow but we will still have a small feast tonight to celebrate my son's return," He proclaimed. "Stewards, help him his companions bring all the belongings and gifts to the Great Hall. Then inform the kitchens. It will be a small affair, just for the family, close friends, and senior members of the household. Any leftovers will be distributed for free to anyone else in the Castle that asks for it. Now, my children, come with me. We have so much to talk about. And Cassel, go look for Sansa, Bran, and Rickon and tell them to come to the Great Hall. If they hadn't heard yet, let it be a pleasant surprise."

With that, Jon followed his family inside the keep, turning back only once to smile at Lyra Mormont as she waved.

And just in time to notice that she was still guarding a special quill in her hand, just as he had ordered her to do.

"Now, time to take advantage of Lady Catelyn's absence for as long as I can," He thought. "It seems I will only have a few hours before her return."

That should be more than enough time to start putting his plans in motion. But first things first. And if he was honest with himself, he wanted to take an hour to relax with his family after so long before focusing on plots again.

A memory of the past struck him and his lips felt warm. He inhaled sharply.

"And I am really looking forward to seeing you too, Sansa."