Chapter 104: Back to Winterfell!

The next day, by evening, Eddard arrived. Damian greeted him warmly. "Ned, it's good to see you."

Eddard was surprised to see his brother there. He clasped Damian's arm in greeting. "And you, Damian. What are you doing here? Is everything fine?"

"Everything is fine. I thought of giving Mother a visit, and then knowing that you would be traveling by land from your letter, I calculated the time and arrived here before you. We can now go together." Damian explained.

Eddard nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's good to have your company on the journey. How are things in the Iron Islands?"

"Everything is progressing well," Damian replied. "We've increased our production of minerals and are starting to establish trade with other houses and merchants. The North will benefit from this, as will the Iron Islands." Damian then explained how he had just sold three thousand gold coins worth of refined iron and tin to House Flint on his way here.

"I've also brought some ores for our house as well as gifts. They are making their way to Torrhen's Square as we speak," Damian said.

"That's thoughtful of you, Damian," said Ned.

As they walked through the crumbling remnants of Moat Cailin, Damian shared his observations. "This place has such history. It once stood as a great stronghold, but now it's a shadow of its former self. It would take considerable resources to restore it."

"I always hoped to restore it, but never seemed to find the resources and time to start this project," Ned sighed.

"Don't worry, brother. Once I'm richer, I will help you out with the resources to build it back," Damian promised.

They didn't stay at Moat Cailin for long and soon left for Winterfell, taking the Kingsroad.

It took them ten days to reach Winterfell on horseback. The journey was a mix of rugged landscapes called the Barrowlands and the ever-present chill of the North. Damian had the company of Lord Umber, Karstark, Bolton, and many other lords who were returning from the tourney at Lannisport.

A few lords parted ways on the Kingsroad, returning to their own lands, while Damian continued northward with Eddard and the remaining lords. They spent a night at the keep of Lord Medgar of House Cerwyn, sharing stories of the past. 

The next day, as they approached the towering walls of Winterfell, Damian felt a surge of nostalgia and pride. The sight of the ancestral home, with its sturdy stone walls and welcoming gates, brought back memories of his childhood and the warmth of family.

Upon their arrival, the gates of Winterfell swung open, and the Stark household came out to greet them.

Lady Lyarra Stark stood at the forefront, her eyes filled with tears of joy. She was now in her late forties, her once dark hair streaked with silver. Time had etched lines upon her face, but her spirit remained strong.

"My son," Lady Lyarra said, her voice thick with emotion. "It is so good to see you home and safe."

"It's good to be home, Mother," Damian replied, embracing her warmly. "I've missed you all."

Lady Lyarra stepped back, her eyes scanning him with pride. "You've grown so much, Damian. You've accomplished so much. We are all proud of you."

"Well, thank you," Damian replied, smiling, sighing inwardly with relief that his mother had not scolded him for his mistakes and unnecessary risk-taking.

Little did Damian know, he would hear about it later from his mother in a scolding he would remember for the rest of his life.

Ned had just finished talking with his wife, Catelyn, who had a small baby bump and was carrying a baby in her arms. Standing next to her was a small, cute little girl with red hair, giggling happily when Ned lifted her in his arms. Robb stood next to his mother, like a good young lordling.

"Uncle Damian, I missed you," Jon said, peeking out from behind his mother, a smile on his face.

"I missed you too, Jon," Damian said as he ruffled his nephew's head. Now that he looked closely, Jon shared some similarities with his sister, or maybe it was just because he had Stark blood.

"He cried all day when he heard you left for Braavos without telling anyone," Mother said, smiling, but the look in her eyes told him that she was still angry with him for leaving.

"Is that so? I'm sorry, Mother. I should have told you personally." Damian apologized, but it seemed his mother didn't accept his apology so easily.

"I-I did not cry. I was just sad because Damian said he would take me with him when he travels the world one day," Jon said meekly.

"Jon, I did not forget about our promise. You are still small. When you are a little older, I will definitely take you with me to see the world," Damian said, kneeling to Jon's level.

Jon's eyes lit up with excitement. "Promise?"

"Promise," Damian replied, giving Jon a reassuring smile. But soon his smile vanished as he hid himself behind Lady Lyarra. The resaon, Ned came to them accompanied by his wife.

Catelyn stood a little apart, her eyes wary as they flicked between Damian and Jon. "Welcome back, Damian," she said, her tone polite but distant.

Damian gave her a nod. "Thank you, my good sister." He then noticed the small baby looking at him with curious eyes.

"Ah, so this is Arya," Damian said, extending his hand to take his niece into his arms. Surprisingly, baby Arya extended her hands toward him.

Seeing this, Catelyn hesitated for a moment but then had to hand Arya over to her brother-in-law.

Damian cradled Arya gently, her tiny fingers grasping at his cloak. "She's a beautiful child, good sister. You must be very proud."

Catelyn managed a small smile. "Thank you, Damian. We are."

Damian had to return Arya back to her mother as Robb and Sansa were waiting their turn to greet him.

"Oh, look at you, little Stark Lord. You have grown so much," Damian said, ruffling Robb's hair, who beamed up at him proudly.

Then he turned to Sansa, who had just turned three years old. She didn't remember him, but seeing her brothers and grandparents talking to him so happily, she didn't shy away. Damian crouched down to her level, a warm smile on his face.

"And you must be Sansa," Damian said softly. "You seem to be taking after your mother, beautiful little lady."

Sansa looked at him with wide, curious eyes, clutching the hem of her mother's dress. She hesitated for a moment before reaching out her small hand. Damian took it gently, his heart swelling with affection for his niece.

"Do you like stories, Sansa?" Damian asked, his voice gentle and inviting.

Sansa nodded shyly, her eyes lighting up. "Yes, I do."

"Well, I have many stories to tell you about the places I've seen," Damian said. "Would you like to hear one later?"

Sansa's face broke into a shy smile. "Yes, please."