Winter Winds

King in the North



An easiness of life spread throughout the castle as word traveled of Ramsay's death. Sansa fed him to his hounds, which was poetic justice at its finest. Tormund and Ella grew closer in their relationship. They didn't know exactly what they are, but they were together, and that was good enough for the lone wolf and the wildling leader.

Ella spent her mornings with Sansa, bonding as sisters and filling each other in on what happened once they left Winterfell all those years ago. Then she would travel to the courtyard and train with Tormund, preparing for the upcoming battles. After lunch, Ella would huddle in the library with Asena, reading as many books as possible. Ella had not picked up a book since she left Winterfell, and she missed reading about the Targaryens and dragons. Nights were spent with Tormund, curled next to the fire and enjoying each other's company. Life in the world of Westeros seemed to finally be at peace.

One snowy afternoon, Ella and Sansa sat in the Godswood with Asena protecting them. The girls sat at the base of the weirwood tree as snow pounded them. The winter wind chilled them to the bones, but the girls needed to be outside in the fresh air. Being stuck in a castle for days on end began to get to them.

"You know," Sansa spoke as the northern wind blew through the forest, "We used to come here every day as children and pray to could be far far away from here. Back then, I only cared about what I wanted and not what I had. I was a stupid girl for wishing to be away from here."

"No you weren't," Ella sighed. "You dreamed to live in a new and exciting world. Everyone does. I did. I always wanted to be somewhere that I wasn't a bastard. I wanted a loving husband and children running around the halls of my home. Now, all I desire is to be safe and happy. Is that crazy?"

"No," Sansa smiled, "I guess not when you put it like that."

"You know, Sansa," Ella changed the subject. It dawned on the lone wolf that she never properly thanked Sansa for saving them. "Without you, we wouldn't be sitting here. The Knights of the Vale rode here and fought because of you. Didn't Lord Baelish sell you to the Boltons, though? Why would you trust him after doing something like that?"

"Only a fool would trust Littlefinger," Sansa exhaled. "And trust me, I know it was foolish to hide this from you and Jon. He scolded me earlier when he sent the Red Woman away. And I do apologize that I didn't tell either of you."

"You know," Ella sighed, looking at the falling snow, "we will have more enemies now that we have Winterfell. We need to look after one another."

Sansa laughed at her sister. "I don't think this is funny," Ella said. "It's a very serious time we live in, Sansa. We need to look after each other. We're all we have left."

"I'm only laughing because Jon said the exact same thing to me earlier," Sansa smiled.

"Oh," Ella chuckled. "Well, we are twins."

"Yeah, you are. You two are more alike than you know," Sansa said. "And you two are more like Father than the rest of us."

Ella smiled at her sister. That was the nicest thing Sansa had ever said to her. The nicest thing anyone had said to her, really.

Out of the shadows, Ella saw a figure approach them. Lord Baelish crunched through the snow as he joined the two sisters.

"My ladies," he greeted them. Ella and Sansa stood from the ground, dusting the snow and dirt from their cloaks. Ella looked at Littlefinger. She never personally met the man, but Sansa filled her in on everything he had done for her.

"Lord Baelish," Sansa said curtly.

"I was wondering if I might have a word alone," he said, staring at Ella.

Ella looked to Sansa, and she nodded. The young wolf grabbed Asena and left Littlefinger with Sansa. Ella did not like Littlefinger poking his nose around Sansa, but there was nothing she could do. The Snow twins were indebted to Lord Baelish, and Ella didn't want to mess their alliance up.

In the days to come, Ella found herself at the high table in the Great Hall. Jon sat in the middle, Ella to his left and Sansa to his right. Wildlings, northern men, and the Knights of the Vale gathered in the Hall to prepare for the upcoming battle against the army of the dead. Ella noticed the tension build as the wildlings and northern men looked at each other in disgust and hatred.

"You can't expect the Knights of the Vale to side with the wildling invaders," a disgruntled Lord Royce spoke as he stood from his seat.

"We didn't invade," Tormund grunted. "We were invited." Ella sent her wildling friend a grin, earning a wink from him in the process.

"Not by me," Lord Royce stated, taking his seat once more as Jon rose from his.

All eyes were on Jon as he began to address the men and women among him. "The free folk, northerns, and Knights of the Vale fought bravely and together, and we won. My father used to say we find our true friends on the battlefield."

One of the younger lords stood and began to speak, interrupting Jon's speech. "The war is over, and the Boltons are defeated. Winter has come. If the maesters are right, it'll be the coldest winter in over a thousand years. We should ride home and wait out the coming storms."

"The war is not over, and I promise you friend, the true enemy won't wait out the storm. He brings the storm." Jon said, causing chatter to spread across the hall among the lords and wildlings.

Little Lyanna Mormont rose from her seat, causing the chatter to die down as she spoke. "Your son was butchered at the Red Wedding, Lord Manderly, but you refused the call. Lord Glover, you swore allegiance to House Stark, but refused them in their time of need. And you, Lord Cerwyn, your father was skinned alive by Ramsay Bolton. But you refused the call. House Mormont remembers. The North remembers. We know no king but the king in the North whose name is Stark."

Lyanna's words resonated with everyone in the Great Hall. Ella turned her gaze to Jon, smiling as her heart swelled with pride for her brother. If anyone deserved the attention, it was Jon. He sacrificed himself for the greater good, and now people looked to him as their leader.

"I don't care if he's a bastard," the young bear continued. "Ned Stark's blood runs through his veins. He's my king from this day, until his last."

The northerners seemed to accept Lady Lyanna's words, as another lord stood and added to her speech. "My son died for Robb Stark, the young wolf. I didn't think we'd find another worthy king in my lifetime. I didn't commit my men to your cause because I didn't want more Manderly men to dying for nothing. But I was wrong. Jon Snow avenged the Red Wedding. He is the White Wolf. The King in the North."

Lord Glover stood next and spoke directly to Jon. "I did not fight beside you on the field, and I will regret that until my dying day. A man can only admit when he is wrong and ask forgiveness."

"There's nothing to forgive, my Lord," Jon said sheepishly.

Lord Glover nodded to Jon, before turning to the lords sitting around him. "There will be more fights to come. House Glover will stand behind House Stark, as we have for a thousand years. And I will stand behind Jon Snow. The King in the North!"

Lord Glover pulled his sword from its sheath and knelt beside Lord Manderly. Men drew their swords and stood from their seats, lifting their swords in the air.

"The King in the North!" they chanted in unison.

Ella rose as well, chanting along with them. Jon smiled at his sister, taking her hand and Sansa's as he stood by their side, as the newly appointed King in the North. House Stark was on the rise once more, and this time, they would stay there.