The Great Legion arrived at the gates of Winterfell, setting up a massive, orderly camp on the open ground outside the ancient walls.
Sansa, who had been waiting at the gates since the scouts first spotted the banners, could not hold back her tears of joy. When she saw her husband, Jason, riding at the head of the column surrounded by the Northern lords, her heart soared.
Jason jumped from his horse and tossed the reins to Dicken. He stepped forward with his arms wide, catching Sansa in a tight embrace. "I'm back, Sansa! The ghouls have been wiped out. We've won!"
Sansa held him just as tightly, burying her face in his chest and breathing in his familiar scent. The weight of months of worry finally began to lift. "Praise the gods for your safe return, my lord!"
Jason took her face in his hands, kissing her forehead gently. "I'm sorry I had to leave so soon after our wedding. I know I made you worry."
Sansa shook her head, a radiant smile breaking through her tears. "No, my lord. I know you were fighting for the North—for all of Westeros. As your wife, it is my duty to wait for you and keep your home."
Their private moment was quickly interrupted by an energetic thirteen-year-old boy. "Hey, Jason! Did you really kill all of them?" Bran asked, his eyes wide with excitement. Unlike the boy in the stories who lost the use of his legs, this Bran was full of life and vigor. "If I'd known it would be that exciting, I would've followed you to the Wall. Staying in Winterfell was incredibly boring!"
Jason laughed, patting the boy's shoulder. Bran was growing taller, his frame beginning to fill out. "You are the Lord of Winterfell, Bran. Your duty is to govern these lands. Leave the bloody business of war to me."
"But the documents Maester Luwin brings are so dull!" Bran complained with a groan. "I nearly fall asleep every time I look at them. Being a Lord isn't what I thought it would be."
Jason smiled at the boy's restlessness but soon turned his attention to a girl standing nearby, playfully tugging at young Rickon's face. He blinked in surprise. "Arya? When did you get back?"
"It's been a long time, Jason," Arya said. She looked different; the hardships of the road had tempered her impulsive nature, leaving her calmer and more focused.
Sansa quickly explained how their sister had returned. Arya had originally been heading north with Yoren and a group of Night's Watch recruits, but they were ambushed by Lannister soldiers led by the Mountain. After Yoren was killed, Arya escaped Harrenhal with the help of a Braavosi named Jaqen H'ghar. Upon hearing that Jason had retaken Winterfell and destroyed the Boltons, she fled to Riverrun. Her uncle, Edmure Tully, had then sent a cavalry escort to bring her home.
Jason felt a wave of relief. In this timeline, Arya hadn't been forced to go to the House of Black and White. She wouldn't have to cast aside her identity to become a Faceless Man. "I know how much you've suffered," Jason said, his voice turning solemn. "I promise you, I will capture Tywin, Cersei, and Joffrey. I will see Lord Stark avenged."
Arya looked up at him with stubborn, tear-filled eyes. "You promised me once that you would take me south. I want to be there when King's Landing falls. I want to see them captured with my own eyes."
Jason felt a headache coming on and glanced at Sansa for help. Sansa, still the gentle sister who hated the thought of more violence, immediately protested. "No, Arya! You can't go to war. It's too dangerous, and I won't lose any more family!"
"I have to go!" Arya fired back, her voice firm. "I've been practicing every day for two years. Jon gave me this sword—Needle—and Syrio Forel taught me the Water Dance. He said I was a natural. If you don't believe me, find someone to spar with me!"
"You've always been so difficult," Sansa sighed, knowing she could never truly talk her sister out of something once her mind was set.
Jason stepped in before the bickering escalated. "Alright, ladies, let's put this aside for now. The lords of the North are waiting for us. We should head inside."
Sansa immediately regained her composure, falling back into her role as the Lady of Winterfell. She greeted the arriving nobles with perfect etiquette and directed the servants to show them to their quarters. Meanwhile, Maester Luwin took Bran to join the lords, continuing the boy's education in leadership.
That evening, the Great Hall of Winterfell was filled with the sounds of a grand victory feast. During the celebration, Jason announced that there were urgent matters to discuss and requested that all the lords remain in the city rather than returning to their own keeps. He had also sent word to Duke Edmure Tully and the major families of the Riverlands to join them.
The following day, Jason called for a smaller, private meeting under the guise of a family gathering. Those present included Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon, Jon Snow, and Edmure Tully. Maester Luwin of Winterfell and Maester Adrian of Starfire City were also in attendance to offer their counsel.
"I've brought you all together because I have a major announcement," Jason said, taking his seat at the head of the long table. The room went silent, the air thick with anticipation. Sansa watched him, her eyes wide, sensing the gravity of what was about to be said.
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