CHAPTER 84
Winterfell, Great Hall.
Maester Luwin instructed Hodor to carry Bran back to his chambers, while Robert Glover and Garon's trusted retainers tactfully withdrew as well.
In an instant, only Garon and Sansa remained in the vast Great Hall.
Their eyes met unintentionally, yet neither of them looked away, as if drawn together by an invisible force.
The atmosphere gradually became warm and ambiguous.
"Be reserved, Sansa, be reserved!"
Sansa desperately reminded herself in her heart. After a long moment, she finally pretended to remain calm and softly asked,
"Garon, would you like to walk through the Godswood with me?"
After speaking, she seemed afraid he might refuse and hurriedly added,
"Winterfell is crowded these days. Only the Godswood is quiet enough to speak peacefully."
Garon paused briefly before smiling gently.
"Of course. Thank you, Lady Sansa."
He extended his hand politely toward her.
Sansa's cheeks reddened slightly as she stepped to his side. The two then walked together toward the Godswood.
Along the way, Winterfell bustled with activity.
Nobles bearing the sigils of various Northern houses walked back and forth with their retainers and guards. Whenever they saw Sansa, they respectfully bowed and greeted her enthusiastically.
Some young heirs and minor lords even stared at her openly with admiration.
Sansa politely returned each greeting, though her gaze occasionally drifted toward Garon beside her, as though silently expecting something.
Garon naturally noticed this.
Without hesitation, he stepped slightly closer to her side, shielding her from the eager gazes around them.
The young nobles immediately recognized him as the Giant Bear Slayer and Sansa Stark's betrothed.
Their expressions stiffened one after another before they awkwardly withdrew with forced smiles.
Garon paid them no attention and continued speaking with Sansa as they entered the Godswood.
The moment they passed through the iron gate, the noisy atmosphere of Winterfell seemed to vanish entirely.
Sunlight filtered softly through the thick branches overhead, scattering across the ancient forest paths. A cold breeze occasionally swept across the black pool before the heart tree, causing gentle ripples to spread across the dark water.
Garon and Sansa walked slowly beneath the red leaves, quietly speaking together.
Sansa confided in him about her fears and anxieties during these recent days, admitting that she prayed before the heart tree every night for the safety of her family.
Garon naturally knew this already.
On many nights, he had warged into the ancient weirwood and silently listened to the young girl's innermost thoughts.
Still, he comforted her gently.
"Lady Sansa, do not worry. Lord Stark and Arya will surely return safely."
"When I march south, I will personally bring them back from King's Landing."
His promise immediately brightened Sansa's mood considerably.
She walked toward the heart tree and turned to face him. After carefully glancing around to ensure no one else was nearby, she spoke softly.
"Garon, do you remember what I promised you before we parted last time?"
Garon nodded immediately.
"Of course. You said you would make me a cloak from the hide of the giant bear."
Sansa's smile widened.
"I finished it."
She quickly walked behind the heart tree and retrieved a carefully wrapped bundle that she had secretly hidden there earlier with the help of her handmaiden.
Garon looked genuinely surprised.
"You already finished it?"
Sansa happily nodded.
She placed the bundle atop a moss-covered stone and carefully unfolded a thick brown-black bearskin cloak.
"Come here and try it on."
Holding up the cloak, she motioned for him to approach.
Garon walked over lightly. Just as he was about to take the cloak himself, he noticed Sansa lifting it slightly higher, clearly intending to place it on him personally.
His heart stirred faintly.
Instead of reaching out, he lowered himself slightly, silently cooperating with her.
Standing on tiptoe, Sansa carefully draped the heavy bearskin cloak over Garon's broad shoulders.
The thick fur instantly dispelled the lingering chill from his long journey.
With slightly clumsy but earnest fingers, she tied the cloak around his chest.
The distance between them was so close that Garon could clearly smell the faint fragrance lingering around her.
"The giant bear was hunted by you personally," Sansa said softly while finishing the knot. "It carries your courage and strength."
She slowly raised her head to look at him.
"So I hope it will also bring you good fortune and allow you to return safely from the battlefield."
Garon felt their breaths intertwining.
Instinctively, he reached out and gently held her wrist.
"Thank you, Sansa."
"This is the finest gift I have ever received."
Their eyes locked together.
At that moment, the entire world around them seemed to disappear.
Neither of them knew who moved first.
Garon lowered his head slightly, while Sansa did not retreat in the slightest, instead lifting her face toward him.
The next moment, their lips met passionately.
Above them, a raven fluttered down and landed upon one of the weirwood's branches, tilting its head curiously as it observed the pair beneath the red leaves.
At the same time, a soft breeze swept through the Godswood, causing the crimson leaves of the heart tree to rustle gently, as though whispering blessings upon their budding love.
After a long while, the two finally separated slowly.
Sansa's cheeks were flushed bright red, and her breathing had become uneven, yet she still refused to look away.
Garon gazed at her just as intensely.
"Sansa…"
He softly whispered her name, no longer addressing her formally as "Lady Sansa," but with unmistakable tenderness.
Sansa answered quietly with a soft hum.
She leaned gently against his arm, listening to the steady beat of his heart while feeling the warmth of the bearskin cloak surrounding them both.
For a brief moment, she truly wished time could stop forever.
Unfortunately, peace never lasted long within Winterfell.
Soon, hurried footsteps echoed through the Godswood, startling the two from their embrace.
Sansa immediately stepped back in embarrassment, hurriedly smoothing her dress and fixing her appearance.
"Lady Sansa, something terrible has happened!"
"Lord Robb has gotten into a conflict with Lord Umber!"
"Maester Luwin asks you and Lord Garon to come immediately!"
A black-haired handmaiden came rushing over breathlessly.
Sansa's expression instantly changed.
The mere thought of the fierce and terrifying Greatjon Umber made her nervous.
Fortunately, Garon quickly calmed her.
He smiled reassuringly and whispered softly,
"Do not be afraid. I am here."
Sansa immediately relaxed slightly.
As the handmaiden approached, Garon's sharp eyes fixed upon her.
"What happened?"
The handmaiden took several hurried breaths before replying,
"My lord, I am not entirely sure either, but it seems Lord Robb argued with Lord Umber over the conflict at the Smoking Log Tavern."
"Then Maester Luwin sent me to find both of you."
Garon and Sansa exchanged glances.
Without delaying further, they immediately hurried back toward Winterfell's Great Hall with the handmaiden leading the way.
Meanwhile, tension had already reached its peak inside the Great Hall.
Robb stood before the long tables with an ugly expression on his face.
Originally, he had only gone to Winter Town to mediate a drunken conflict between the men of House Bolton and House Cerwyn.
However, upon arriving at the Smoking Log Tavern, he discovered that House Umber had also become involved and blood had already been spilled.
One man had died, while three others were seriously injured.
The moment Robb learned this, he felt a splitting headache coming on.
At present, every bannerman gathered at Winterfell had their own thoughts and ambitions. Most still respected House Stark enough not to openly oppose him.
Except House Umber.
Greatjon Umber had already questioned Robb repeatedly ever since arriving at Winterfell, and Robb had long worried the unruly lord would eventually create serious trouble.
And now his fears had become reality.
When Robb summoned representatives from House Bolton, House Cerwyn, and House Umber into the Great Hall, Bolton and Cerwyn both accepted his proposal for mediation.
Only Greatjon Umber openly rejected Robb's authority, loudly demanding blood payment for the injury suffered by his men.
The other Northern lords, hearing of the conflict, also gathered in the hall one after another, eager to observe how Robb would handle the matter.
Robb, already caught in a difficult position, stared coldly at the huge bearded lord seated before him and interrupted sharply,
"I will say this one final time. This matter ends here!"
Greatjon suddenly rose furiously from his seat.
"Who do you think you are?"
"You're just a green boy. I'd wager your piss is still grass-green!"
"What right do you have to command me?"
Behind him, his sons, brothers, and retainers all stepped forward as well, glaring at Robb with hostility.
At that very moment, a sharp and powerful voice suddenly rang out from outside the Great Hall.
"Because he is a Stark!"
"Because Winterfell obeys him now!"
"Does anyone here object to that?"
Wearing the giant bear cloak gifted by Sansa, Garon strode into the Great Hall with commanding presence, his sharp gaze sweeping across everyone present.
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