CHAPTER 192

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CHAPTER 193

294 AC

POV THIRD PERSON

Aermir, mounted atop the colossal armored shadowcat Sith, orchestrated a scene of awe-inspiring magnificence as he led a majestic procession of two hundred noble knights toward Winterfell. Sith's obsidian fur glistened like the midnight sky, her massive paws effortlessly carrying her with a feline grace that defied her size. The elaborate silver armor adorning her formidable frame gleamed like starlight, each piece was perfectly crafted enchanted armor. As years passed, Sith's black and white fur turned pure black. Once striped body now looked almost like an obsidian statue; her white stripes turned a really dark gray.

Behind Aermir, the Paladins of The Old Gods and his knight order were following him. Their armor glistened in the sunlight, a symphony of polished steel, as they rode in disciplined formation. Banners bearing the sigils of the Temple fluttered gallantly in the wind, announcing their allegiance. The banners had a weirwood tree on a black background. With each hoofbeat of their chargers, the ground seemed to tremble in reverence.

The procession continued, a river of knights flowing beneath the towering stone walls of Winterfell. Aermir, with his stature and bearing, led the vanguard like a living legend. His presence exuded an aura of authority and honor. Behind him, the Paladins of the Old Gods followed suit, their armor adorned with engravings depicting ancient symbols and motifs.

As the procession advanced, the ground seemed to tremble beneath the weight of their march; their red and white cloaks were fluttering in the wind, and it was like the wind was blowing with a purpose to make them look more gallant, more heroic. The procession flowed through the main road of the castle toward the inner walls. The rhythmic cadence of Sith's powerful strides made no sound. You would expect something so big to make a distinct sound with every step, but it was like she had no weight. They could swear she was a mirage if they didn't see the majestic beast and didn't feel the dangerous air she exuded.

As the assembly approached the gates of the main keep, the guards offered salutes of respect, recognizing Aermir. The knights rode through the courtyard, their steeds' hooves echoing against the cobbles. Though not all would have the privilege to partake in the Great Hall's feast, their distinguished lineage and valor earned them a place in the feast.

Among the entourage, around forty to fifty knights hailed from prominent houses, and only they could join the feast inside the Great Hall. The rest of them would be feasting in the courtyard. You could see the banners of different houses fluttering among the Stark direwolf banners in the courtyard, painting a vivid picture of unity in the North.

The feast awaited them, a celebration of camaraderie and shared purpose. As the knights dispersed to join the festivities, the courtyard came alive with their laughter, the clinking of goblets, and the warmth of newfound friendships. The epic procession of Aermir and the Paladins of the Old Gods had not only united people from different noble houses under one banner but also woven a new chapter into the fabric of Winterfell's legacy.

...

Before the imposing entrance of the Great Keep, Aermir was warmly welcomed by his old friends Robb and Jon. As they exchanged greetings, Robb couldn't resist his playful nature. He mockingly referred to Aermir as the "Oh, Great Lord Commander of The Paladins, The Sword of Winter, and The Sword of the Old Gods, It is an honor to be in your presence." executing a jovial half-bow that brought forth a chuckle from Jon. Aermir's face broke into a smile.

Robb grinned, his tone dripping with mock formality. "Well, we must show the proper respect for the esteemed leader of the valiant Paladins, mustn't we?"

Jon's lips quirked into a smile as he added, "Aye, it's a position only suited for the mightiest and most heroic."

Aermir put his hand on his waist and said,

"That is true, I am the mightiest. I can beat both of you with my right hand's pinky finger."

Robb's eyes glowed with excitement and said,

"Ohh, is that a challange? We are not the same since we fought three years ago."

Aermir knew they were better fighters and wargs; he had seen them as the Druid once in a while and trained them, but he missed messing with them as their friend.

Jon chimed in, his tone conspiratorial. "Speaking of training, have you been practicing your dance moves, Aermir?"

"Were you?"

Jon mockingly lowered his head and said,

"I am just a lowly Snow, and you are the most eligible bachelor of the North with Robb here. Noble ladies are not going to ask me to dance."

Aermir said,

"Did you never see your own face? Don't worry; they are going to ask you too."

The trio burst into laughter, their camaraderie a testament to years of shared experiences. As the banter continued, the weight of responsibilities momentarily lifted, leaving only the bond of friendship.

As they moved towards the hall's entrance, Aermir took off his cloak because he knew what was coming. A she-wolf was going to charge at him. Suddenly, two presences charged toward Aermir from left and right. Two wild wolf cubs, Arya and Bran, jumped onto his back, and they were trying to climb onto his shoulders. 

Arya with an angry voice said, "This is my thing with Aermir, go away." and kicked Bran off him. Compared to 2.1 meters Aermir, Arya looked like a small child but she was 15 name-days old this year.

Aermir, accustomed to her antics, allowed her to do this. It had become their tradition – Arya always clambered onto his back, and now Bran had also tried to join in. Sansa was right behind her , and she started to reprimand her sister, but Arya's defiant stance on Aermir's shoulders prompted Sansa's disapproval. 

"Arya, really? You're not a child anymore. This behavior is quite undignified. You should act like a young woman; this is improper."

Robb chimed in with a disapproving voice. "I have to agree with Sansa for once. You should start acting like your age."

Arya's response was sticking out her tongue at both her elder siblings. "No, I am not going to change; I am going to climb Aermir's back even when I am a 60-name-day-old wrinkly grandma! And this is our thing, our routine, our tradition."

In a mocking way, she drummed her chest with a fist and said,

"In the North, we treasure our traditions."

Sansa raised an eyebrow, her skepticism evident. "A tradition? Climbing on someone's shoulders is a tradition now?"

Aermir chuckled, his deep voice joining the conversation. "Well, if it's a tradition, who am I to argue?"

Sansa said timidly,

"Aermir, please don't encourage her. She is a woman now, and you shouldn't get so close to women too."

Aermir smiled and said,

"Oh, it is just Arya. In my eyes, she will always be a child, a little sister, or should I say a teeny-tiny she-wolf cub."

Arya hit Aermir's head and pouted,

"I am not a child anymore!"

Jon, ever the peacekeeper, decided to chime in. 

"Let her have her fun, Sansa. It's not hurting anyone."

Robb, always one to stir the pot, leaned in and grinned at Aermir. 

"Does this mean you'll be giving shoulder rides to every girl in Winterfell?"

Sansa angrily said,

"Robb, don't be ridiculous!"

"What, it was an honest question?"

Aermir laughed heartily. 

"I fear my shoulders aren't that sturdy!"

Arya, holding her ground on Aermir's shoulders, stuck her tongue out again at Robb. 

"Well, I am certainly welcome. Right, Aermir?"

Aermir gave an exaggerated nod, playing along. "Of course, my lady. I shall bear the burden with honor."

Sansa rolled her eyes. 

"Honestly, you're all acting like children, and all of you are spoiling her."

Arya's impish grin only widened. 

"That's because we're having fun, Sansa. You should try it sometime."

Robb offered a mock bow. 

"Well, in that case, my lady, would you allow me the honor of offering you a ride on my shoulders?"

Sansa's cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as she shot Robb a playful glare. 

"Absolutely not. I am not joining in this childishness."

Aermir's smile held a hint of nostalgia. He missed this banter, this chaos. As the laughter and conversations flowed, the Great Hall's grandeur faded into the background.