CHAPTER 125
Winterfell.
In the Godswood, beside the dark pool beneath the heart tree.
When Maester Luwin arrived carrying an oil lamp, night had already settled over Winterfell for quite some time.
"Sansa! Bran!"
The old maester hurried forward, calling out to them from a distance.
Sansa, who was pushing Bran's wheeled chair along the path near the heart tree, turned around in confusion.
"Maester Luwin, has something happened?"
She only spoke after the swaying lantern light drew closer.
A red leaf drifted down from the ancient weirwood, and the carved red eyes upon its pale face seemed almost alive, silently observing the three figures beneath its branches.
Maester Luwin steadied his breathing.
With trembling hands, he withdrew a letter from his sleeve.
His expression was heavy with sorrow.
"A letter from Robb..."
His voice caught in his throat.
"It... it says..."
At once, Sansa and Bran felt their hearts tighten.
An ominous feeling crept over them.
Sansa quickly accepted the letter, still desperately clinging to a sliver of hope.
"Was Robb defeated?"
Then she lowered her eyes and began reading by the light of Luwin's lamp.
A moment later, a terrified cry escaped her lips.
"Ah!"
Her face instantly turned pale.
Her lips trembled.
Her body swayed unsteadily.
Had Bran's chair not been beside her, she might have collapsed to the ground.
"Impossible..."
"Father..."
"How could Father..."
The contents of the letter struck her like a thunderbolt.
Her mind became a blank.
The news was so shocking that she could barely form complete thoughts.
Tears quickly filled her eyes and streamed down her cheeks uncontrollably.
Bran immediately sensed something was terribly wrong.
He reached out mechanically, took the letter from Sansa's shaking hands, and began reading.
Moments later, tears fell onto the parchment.
No matter how much the Three-Eyed Raven had taught him through dreams and visions, no matter how much strange knowledge he possessed, he was still a Stark.
He was still a son.
"Father..."
His right hand trembled violently, and grief overwhelmed his face.
Maester Luwin felt no less pain.
He had served Eddard Stark for many years.
To him, House Stark was not merely the family he served.
They had become part of his life.
Never had he imagined that the honorable Lord of Winterfell would meet such an end in King's Landing.
He remembered the day Ned Stark sought his counsel before traveling south.
At the time, he had supported the decision.
Now regret gnawed endlessly at his heart.
If he had known everything that would happen, he would have opposed the journey no matter the cost.
Looking at Sansa and Bran, both drowning in grief, Luwin's expression grew even more sorrowful.
Yet there were things that still had to be said.
"I know this is not the proper moment."
"But Sansa. Bran."
His voice became grave.
"We do not have the luxury of surrendering to grief."
"We must think about what comes next."
His gaze settled firmly upon Sansa.
"Especially you, Sansa."
"Bran has not fully recovered."
"You are currently acting as Lady of Winterfell."
"You must gather your strength."
"The war in the North has not yet ended."
"You now carry responsibility for everyone within these walls."
"Think of Bran."
"Think of Rickon."
"You must help stabilize the North for Robb."
"And now..."
Luwin paused heavily.
"He has been proclaimed King."
Sansa closed her eyes.
Pain twisted through her chest.
Images of her family flashed through her mind one after another.
Her father.
Her mother.
Arya.
Bran.
Rickon.
Robb.
Countless memories surged through her heart.
After a long silence, she finally managed to suppress a portion of her grief.
When she spoke, her voice was hoarse.
"Maester Luwin..."
"I need your advice."
Luwin nodded solemnly.
"Sansa, with Lord Stark dead, Robb has inherited Winterfell and become Lord of the North."
"But instead of merely seeking justice, he has accepted a crown."
The maester's brow furrowed deeply.
He still could not fully understand it.
Since Torrhen Stark, the King Who Knelt, surrendered to Aegon the Conqueror and his dragons, the title of King in the North had vanished for nearly three centuries.
Now Robb Stark had restored it.
"Even if Joffrey is illegitimate."
"Even if Robb refuses to bend the knee."
"There are still alternatives."
"Stannis Baratheon."
"Renly Baratheon."
"Even others with claims through House Baratheon."
"Yet Robb has chosen to place a crown upon his own head."
Luwin sighed.
"I fear there is more happening in the south than we understand."
A trace of worry appeared in his eyes.
He feared Robb might have been pushed toward a dangerous path by circumstances beyond his control.
Hearing this, Sansa recalled the rest of the letter.
Recently, she had spent much of her time studying with Maester Luwin.
She immediately sensed the problem as well.
"Mother was with Robb."
"How could she allow something like this?"
Unfortunately, neither of them possessed enough information to answer the question.
Even the wisest maester could not create answers from nothing.
Luwin shook his head.
"Whatever the reason, the decision has already been made."
"The letter is nearly half a month old."
"Understanding why it happened changes nothing now."
"The most important matter before us is ending the war between the North and the Iron Islands as quickly as possible."
Seeing the confusion on Sansa's face, he continued.
"Originally, our struggle against House Lannister was supported by powerful allies."
"House Tully."
"The Vale."
"And potentially House Baratheon."
"Even if the fighting continued, we were unlikely to stand alone."
"But now Robb has declared himself King."
"Stannis and Renly may both see us as rebels."
"The Vale has shown no signs of joining the war."
"From everything Ser Rodrik reported after his journey to the Eyrie, Lady Lysa Arryn intends to remain neutral."
"Without allies, how can the North and House Tully stand against so many enemies?"
At once, Sansa and Bran understood.
Sansa lowered her head and thought carefully.
"You mean..."
"We must use Asha Greyjoy to contact Balon Greyjoy."
"We need to end the war immediately."
"Otherwise the Lannisters or another southern king may ally with the Iron Islands against us."
Luwin nodded.
"Exactly."
"Only after securing peace in the North can we send forces south to aid King Robb."
His eyes brightened slightly.
"And if Lord Garon leads that army, the Lannisters will have reason to fear."
At the mention of Garon, Sansa's eyes immediately lit up.
"You're right."
"Garon just defeated the Ironborn."
"If he marches south, no matter how many enemies stand against us, we won't be helpless."
Bran, who had been listening quietly, suddenly spoke.
"But Asha refused to cooperate today."
Sansa's expression grew thoughtful.
The innocence she once possessed was slowly being stripped away by reality.
"We must persuade her."
"The messenger reported that many Ironborn were captured alive."
"We can use them during negotiations."
"If that still doesn't work..."
She hesitated before continuing.
"Perhaps King Robb could acknowledge Balon Greyjoy as King of the Iron Islands."
Luwin considered the idea carefully.
After a long moment, he nodded.
"At present, that may be our only option."
"I will speak with Asha later."
To his surprise, Sansa immediately shook her head.
"No."
"I will go myself."
She met the maester's eyes directly.
"As you said, I am acting Lady of Winterfell."
"My words will carry more weight than anyone else's."
Then another thought occurred to her.
"Maester Luwin."
"We must inform Robb about Rickon immediately."
Bran straightened at once.
"That's right."
"Rickon is on Dragonstone."
"If Stannis wishes, he could use Rickon to pressure the North."
"Robb needs time to prepare."
Several days earlier, Lord Wyman Manderly had arrived from White Harbor bearing important news delivered by Ser Davos Seaworth.
Among that news was Rickon's location on Dragonstone.
Luwin sighed heavily.
"How quickly circumstances change."
"At first, I believed Rickon would be safer on Dragonstone than in the North."
"But now..."
He shook his head.
"It appears Stannis may have intended to use Rickon as leverage from the beginning."
Sansa wiped away her tears.
When she spoke again, her voice was far steadier.
"Then let us do what needs to be done."
"Maester Luwin, send a raven to Robb immediately."
"Tell him about the victory at Ox Horn Mountain."
"Tell him about Rickon's location."
"And warn him to be extremely cautious in dealing with Stannis Baratheon."
After saying that, she turned toward Bran.
"Tomorrow we will visit Asha together."
"We'll tell her about Theon's death."
"Perhaps it will reduce some of her hostility."
Bran nodded.
"I understand."
Maester Luwin looked at the two children before him.
Only a short time ago, they had been sheltered by their family.
Now circumstances had forced them to mature far sooner than they should have.
The sight filled him with both concern and pride.
Winter was coming.
Yet at least the children of Winterfell were beginning to learn how to face it.
He bowed his head slightly.
"May the old gods watch over us."
"May they watch over the North."
Sansa and Bran also turned toward the heart tree and silently offered their prayers.
None of the three realized that another consciousness was observing them from within the ancient weirwood.
Far away at Ox Horn Mountain, Garon was watching through the eyes of the heart tree.
He quietly observed the three figures as they finished their prayers and departed from the Godswood.
A thoughtful expression crossed his face.
Moments later, his consciousness withdrew from the weirwood and returned to his body within the military camp.