[Chapter Size: 1800 Words.]

  Third Person POV.Winterfell.

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  he entra the back, Jon finally stepped into the hall, passing by several people without notig his blood uncle who walked right past him. His thoughts were preoccupied with finally being ba those halls as he took in all the excitement, something he had never witnessed before.

  Not that he had participated in the gras at Winterfell during his childhood. Celebrations like the Harvest Feast were events he was excluded from, as Lady Stark always kept him away from the main hall. She didn't want the northern o pare him to Robb Stark, as Jon bore a much stronger resembo the Stark c than Robb.

  He only took part in smaller gatherings, usually when one or two nobles visited Winterfell. However, on those occasions, he was alced among the servants, in a er where no one would notice him, while the Stark family hosted their guests at the main table as usual. As a child, he remembered how much that saddened him, but now he thought it was silly, even if it was natural for a child in his circumstao feel that way.

  Now, he found himself at a feast unlike anything he had experienced before in these halls. Not that he hadn't attended gras – the celebrations in Skyrim or ions of Tamriel were rger and more extravagant than this. Not to mention the feast in the Hall of Heroes, a pce from another world for the Nords of Skyrim, Sovngarde, where there was endless food and drink for the great warriors of the past, who celebrated and battled for eternity, living solely for pleasure.

  He had been there without dying, to speak with a Dragonborns who helped him defeat Alduin, the World-Eater – but that was a story for aime.

  For now, he focused on what he was seeing. Jon looked ahead and observed his former family after so many years. He stopped in the middle of the hall, indifferent to everything else, just to look at them. He began by gazing at the main table, where he noticed the King of Westeros seated.

  It was a fat man, leering at some serving girls while drinkiing, and ughing at everything.

  "What a disappoi." Those were the first words to leave his mouth as he looked at the man he had wao kill when he came to this world. Was this what the king had bee? Jo so embarrassed that he even lost the desire to kill him in a duel. It would be a disgraself; dueling a drunken, fat man was certainly beh him.

  o him was the queen, and beside her sat someone Jon immediately reized the moment he id eyes on her. He could see Catelyn Stark. The woman had aged eight years sihe st time he had seehere were some differences, but not many, and the same stern expression remained as she tried to verse with the queen, eared quite arrogant.

  There was also a child with her – the child looked about two years old, which made Jon raise an eyebrow. It seemed Lady Stark was still giving children to his uncle.

  His gaze moved across the other tables, and he saw Robb he high table, easily reizable by his red hair and easy smile as he talked. Robb eaking with Theon Greyjoy, someone who had arrived at Winterfell shortly before Jo. Theon looked the same as ever. It seemed that being among wolves hadn't stopped him from behaving like a squid, as Jon remembered.

  He also spotted Sansa at aable, surrounded by friends, chatting and sneaking goward the high table where the prince was seated. From what Jon could tell, the boy resembled the queen quite a bit, though he bore no resembo the king, and he dressed in a way befitting the status Jon assumed he held. There were two younger siblings with him, but the prince seemed the most arrogant, just as Jon had heard.

  It appeared the royal family brought by Robert included only his wife and these three children, and none of the king's brothers were present.

  His gaze also fell upon the royal guards. He reized one of them as Jaime Lannister, famed for his swordsmanship. Jaime kept a firm gaze and held his sword as if stantly searg for any threat. He didn't notice Jon watg him. Oher side of the table, in a simir position, stood Barristan Selmy, the legendary warrior who had fought in tless battles and was currently the greatest living knight ieros. He appeared far more imposing and skilled than anyoeros could typically produce.

  Jon's analytical gaze seemed to awaken some sense in Barristan, who noticed him from across the hall. The knight's eyes met Jon's, and for a few moments, Johe stare, keeping his expressioral. Barristan seemed to be trying to figure out who this stranger was, but from the distance, he couldn't dis maails of Jon's features.

  After a moment, Joed his gaze. There was no reason to keep staring at Barristan. There were other people and situations to observe.

  Then, his eyes fell upon a girl in a er, who looked entirely Stark. She was beirained by a few men after apparently being punished. It was Arya Stark, who had been only three years old when Jo. Perhaps she wouldn't even remember him. After all, who remembers someoer eight years?

  Returning his attention to the table where Robb sat, Jon noticed other young northern nobles nearby. Bran was also there, and he must have been around a year old when Jon disappeared. Back then, Jon remembered seeing Bran in Lady Stark's arms. Now, it felt strao see him grown, just like all the other children of Ned who were present there. Jon wasn't sure if there were more children, but he doubted it, as no other young person seemed to wear Stark colors or have the Stark-Tully appearance.

  As he observed, he noticed a figure moving toward the main table. His gaze followed the movement and nded on his beloved uncle, alking to the king's side, exging a few words with him. Jon analyzed the man's features. He didn't seem to have aged much more, but the weariness was evident.

  Dealing with the king appeared to be exhausting. The disappoi in Lord Stark's eyes in to see, almost making Jon ugh. However, he restrained himself, choosing to keep watg instead. The moment to approad speak with his uncle would e, but not now.

  Suddenly, his uncle lifted his head and locked eyes with him across the hall, he door. Johe stare without looking away, analyzing the man who now kept his own gaze fixed on him. From the distance, his uncle might not be able to see him clearly. Naturally, Jon allowed a smile to escape, but it wasn't one of joy or longing. It seemed more like bitter irony than a happy reunion.

  "Hey, what are you looking at? Smiling at the queen, are you? You're a fool if you're doing that."

  The voice came from his side, as the guard who had escorted him there called out again. The man had been walking wheiced Jon standing in the middle of the hall and had returo fetch him.

  Jon turned, still smiling, and replied calmly, "Sorry about that. But the queen is certainly a beauty."

  The man's eyes widened. "Man, don't say that out loud! If one of the Lannisters hears you, you'll definitely have problems."

  Jon found the warning amusing but simply nodded. "All right. Looks like I've wasted enough time here. Let's move on."

  The guard nodded in agreement and led him toward a table where some men were seated. Jon followed while still gng around the hall, analyzing the figures around him.

  There were many other nobles, both from the North and the South, as far as he could tell, most of them unknown to him. Jon paid them little attention and simply followed the man to a more isoted table.

  "Hey! You're here, finally, you fool! You almost missed all the drink. Gobbi's about to finish it all! I thought you'd lost a leg, you took so long!" one of the men excimed, mog the guard who had apanied Jon.

  "Not at all. I found this guy outside. He's a bard or something like that. Seems iing. You all should talk to him," the man who had brought Jon said.

  The man moved to the table, sitting in ay chair, aured for Jon to take another seat beside him. Jon plied, sitting uhe curious stares of everyo the table as they turheir attention to him.

  "Who are you? A bard? You don't look like one," one of the men asked, frowning. Jon looked far too muscur to be an artist.

  "Appearances be deceiving, my friend. Yes, I am a bard, and my name is Dovahkiin," Jon said, leaving everyone surprised as they turo the guard who had brought him.

  The guard gri his panions. "I know, his name's strange, but he's not from around here. He es from a pce far away. Cims it's farther than the known world, nds beyond where Essos could reach... During his journey, he arrived in the North just over two moons ago," the man expined, leaving everyone even more astonished.

  "You could say that," Jon said, smiling. "And, from what I see, you all look like Northerners."

  "The same could be said of you, stranger. You seem very familiar, but your purple eyes say otherwise. How old are you?" one of them asked, curious and slightly tipsy, his voice rising slightly.

  "I'm 20 years old," Jon replied.

  "Still a boy. Tell me, have you ever killed anyone?" another one asked, bursting into ughter.

  "Yes, far more than I'd like," Jon answered calmly. "But yes, I've killed."

  "Well, then, the boy's a man! Take this, drink!" they said, handing him a cup of drink.

  Jon accepted it, holding the cup and drinking, sav the taste of the Northern brew. It was certainly much better than what he had drunk beyond the Wall, which was essentially a disgusting fermented milk that Tormund always offered. But out there, they had no other option—otherwise, it was frozen water.

  Here, however, he could finally enjoy himself. As he drank, everyone ughed and quickly started including him in their camaraderie. Jon raised his tankard and smmed it against the table with force.

  "Well, looks like the night's going to be lively. This is going to be a lot of fun," Jon said with a grin, as everyone around him ughed and seemed excited.

  He wao stir up the night and enjoy the ba for the first time in this world since he had returned, ironically, in his former home.

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