the songs of winter // j.snow 3.

8.1 Home

Winterfell was a place Arabella called home. It was cold and damp but most importantly it held people that loved her more than her own family ever did. She was glad to be back more than never.

Daenerys forces as well as Jon's marched towards the Winterfell castle as Jon Snow's wife sat in a carrier with her daughter, her uncle and Varys whom she hadn't seen in ages.

Arabella had missed Tyrion. Though she sensed a change in him. A change that the Dragon Queen influenced. Bella didn't know whether she liked it.

Tyrion touched Ellyn's cheeks with a small smile before he turned to look at his friend. "You should consider yourself lucky," Tyrion began as Arabella watched the people around stare at the unfamiliar army of Unsullied and Dothraki. "At least your balls won't freeze off."

Arabella gave her uncle a pointed look as Varys told him back. "You take great offense of dwarf jokes but love telling eunuch jokes. Why is that?"

Arabella suppressed a smirk as Tyrion glanced at her playfully. "Because I have balls... And you don't."

Varys only continued to stare at him as Arabella sighed and smiled at her daughter who sat impatiently on her lap.

The army continued to march as the northern people warily watched the army march towards the castle.

Arabella saw two of Daenerys' dragons fly by in the sky. They still mesmerized Bella as they finally reached the castle of Winterfell. The people of the castle as well as the three remaining Stark siblings stood in a line waiting to meet their new supposed Queen.

When Jon rode inside he saw Bran sitting in a wheelchair. Arabella had told him that he and Arya are back home and Jon wanted nothing more but to meet them.

Bran was grown up and in a wheelchair. He wasn't the same boy Jon used to see and know. Jon quickly dismounted himself to greet him as Bran showed somewhat of a smile.

Jon let out a laugh and immediately marched over to his brother kissing him on the head as relief washed over him. Everyone were back for sure.

After a moment Jon pulled away still holding his hand on Bran's head as he smiled happily. "Look at you," Jon mused with a smile. "You're a man."

Bran looked somewhat amused. "Almost."

Jon looked confused as he looked up at Sansa who looked even more beautiful than before. Arabella got out of the carrier while holding Ellyn and handed it to her handmaiden. She saw Jon and Sansa hugging as the redhead stared at Daenerys. "Where's Arya?" Jon asked impatiently as Arabella approached Bran and smiled at him with a nod.

Bran didn't react though a shadow danced on his face. "Lurking somewhere," Sansa answered as Arabella hugged Sansa who hugged her back strongly, showing Daenerys whom she preferred.

"I've missed you terribly," Arabella spoke as Jon gazed at Bella before he turned to motion for Daenerys to come.

Arabella noticed Sansa's look and could only smile. "Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen," Jon introduced as all the Lords of the North stared at her warily. "My sister Sansa Stark, the Lady of Winterfell."

"Thank you for inviting us into your home, lady Stark," Daenerys spoke as Arabella glanced at her too. "The North is as beautiful as your brother claimed."

Daenerys smiled widely as Sansa held a more of a suspicious smile. "As are you," Daenerys added as Arabella gripped onto Jon's arm but he only smiled at her, oblivious of Sansa's look.

"Winterfell is yours, Your Grace," Sansa only mused causing Dany to almost loose her smile.

Bran then voiced his concern. "We don't have time for all of this," he said angrily as everyone turned to look at him in surprise. "The Night King has your dragon. He's one of them now. The Wall has fallen, the dead march south."

Daenerys seemed shocked as Jon placed his hand on Arabella's cheek looking at her in concern.

All of the Lords and Ladies decided to move inside as Sansa walked besides Arabella. "Do you like the Queen?" Sansa questioned curiously causing Arabella to glance at her with a look.

"She isn't that bad."

"Your father killed her brother," Sansa answered bravely as the two were the first to enter the main hall.

"Sansa..." Arabella sighed deeply as she stopped in front of a table near a fireplace. "She is the key to help us win this war. I... I saw how the dead look..."

"Jon bent the knee. What do you think about that?" Sansa asked as Arabella noticed a change in her too. She knew Sansa killed Littlefinger and couldn't have been more proud.

"I... I try to think that Daenerys isn't as what I was told my entire life," Arabella then said while shaking her head so Sansa only mused and then everyone else walked in.

Daenerys was walking besides Jon but his eyes were mainly focused on his wife who smiled at him.

Minutes later the whole hall was filled with people as Arabella sat in between Jon and Sansa. She glanced back at Daenerys to see her as closer to the fire as it could get.

Sansa's voiced concerns kept replaying themselves in Arabella's mind. She got along with Daenerys but a part of Bella didn't trust her. Not yet. "As soon as we heard about the Wall, I called all our banners to retreat to Winterfell. Lord Umber!" Sansa called out.

A small and young boy peaked his head through big men as Arabella's heart skipped a beat. He was too young for this and too much responsibility was brought upon him. "When can we expect your people to arrive?" Sansa asked as she felt a warm hand be placed on top of hers.

Glancing at Jon Arabella managed to nod. Lord Umber stood up with a scared face as stepped forward. "We need more horses and wagons. If it please, m'lady," he said loudly. "And... my lord, and... my Queen. Sorry."

Arabella could only smile softly as Sansa continued. "You'll have as many as we can spare. Hurry back to Last Hearth and bring your people here."

The young lord then bowed down and left. "We need to send ravens to the Night's Watch as well," Jon spoke. "There's no sense in manning the castles anymore. We make our stand here."

Maester Wolkan only bowed a little and left.

Arabella continued to sit with a conflicted look on her face as she remembered one person. Sitting in the dungeon cells.

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