JON

It was just before dawn, and Jon knew he had only one major thing to do before he departed for the Wall. He had already done the other tasks necessary to travel-- washed up, packed, gathered the horses, and spoke at length with the guards of the men who would have the honor of joining the Watch. A part of him was still remorseful of his decision to not join, however, he knew, deep down, that being with and assisting his family was the right choice. The southerners had tried to take everything from them and destroy House Stark. Jon was half Stark; there was no way that he'd allow any harm to come to his family.

House Stark was safe. The North was safe.

For now.

Ghost panting loudly behind him pulled him from his musings, Back to the task at hand, Jon needed to give Arya her weapon that he had ordered for her. It was a special order. Jon wanted her to have it to use as she learned from the Braavosi fighter.

Jon had to give it to Sunspear; Prince Oberyn had given a unique resource to House Stark that would more than likely give the Starks a clear advantage in the future. A young lady, trained in battle, that would be a serious force to be reckoned with. Arya was already clever, giving her fluidity and confidence to move about would simply add to her many talents.

As he headed for her room, he could hear that the young girl was already awake and grumbling about something. Nearing, he heard her say, "Thank you, Nymeria. Septa Mordane says I have to do it again. My things weren't properly folded, she says. Who cares how they're folded ?! They're going to get all messed up anyway."

Jon smiled. She hated doing lady-like things. Arya was right in that she would mess up her clothes again. He supposed that there was little harm in maintaining a clean room and organized wardrobe. Both are useful, regardless of disposition.

"It's good you've got help." Jon stated as he leaned against the doorway. Arya looked up from her trunk, grinned, and ordered to Jon and the direwolf, "Watch. Nymeria, gloves."

The wolf seemingly complied and brought the girl's dress gloves forward. However, the young wolf would not release the gloves to her owner. The wolf seemed to have decided that she liked the gloves for herself.

Smirking at his young cousin, Jon complimented, "Impressive."

"Shut up. Nymeria, gloves !" Arya angrily huffed. The young girl's confidence waned in the candlelight.

Nodding to himself, he changed the subject, "I have something for you. And it has to be used very carefully. I needed to give it to you before I left for the Wall."

The young she-wolf perked up at the sound of a gift, " A present?"

Jon set the long box on her bed and murmured, "Close the door. This is no toy. Be careful you don't cut yourself." He opened the box to reveal a very long, lean sword. No doubt it would be light in weight but effective in use.

"It's so skinny!" She stated with a smile.

He could see her contentment but fired back with another smirk, "So are you. I had the blacksmith make it for you special. It won't hack a man's head off, but it can poke him full of holes if you're quick enough."

She was quick to rebuttal, "I can be quick."

He motioned for her to pick it up and feel it out. This would be her training weapon until she was older and stronger. Hopefully, he'd live to see that day. He pressed, "You'll have to work at it every day. How does it feel ? Do you like the balance ?"

Holding it gingerly and rather hesitantly, "I think so."

Sensing her excitement but noting her lack of knowledge regarding the weapon, "First lesson: Stick them with the pointy end."

Grinning with mischief, "I know which end to use." He'd miss this. Arya was by far his favorite girl in the Stark family. She was wild and mischievous. Entertainment to no end.

Jon quietly shared, "I'm going to miss you. Careful. All the best swords have names, you know."

"Sansa can keep her sewing needles. I've got a needle of my own." She had ignored the sentimental comment. It was her classic defense mechanism. Arya did not like feeling negative emotions, she often fled them or sought to get rid of them through humor or even violence.

Jon pushed, "I came to say goodbye." She nodded and hugged him. It was a silent goodbye from the young Stark girl. Jon would be back and so would Zi. She's proven that she could come back from the most unfriendly situations.

                                                                                  ZIPPORAH

Zipporah stared down, again, at her sleeping baby. He had grown so much since the last time she had said goodbye. No doubt she'd miss his first birthday. However, she had to give up these moments in order to have even more moments. She hoped that he would forgive her for missing, but at least, Robb would be there--first steps, real words, etc. Robb would have to commit all those achievements to memory for her, so she could look at them later.

Her fingers lightly traced his rosy cheeks. Slightly stirring, Aiden stretched and rolled to his side. Swiftly withdrawing her hand, hoping to not wake him, she moved to finish packing. The only part of this trip she was looking forward to was wearing pants yet again. She would be wearing her black outfit that Sansa had previously made for her, however, no war paint this time. She'd keep her hair down--to hide her ears from the judgmental men of the North.

Sighing, she loaded up her backpack with what she thought she'd need, nodded to Gwen to look over Aiden. This time, Vader would be coming with her. Greywind and his siblings would be tasked with watching over the Stark family. She continued to recommend that Winterfell remain on lockdown, and both Stark men agreed.

She left the room and headed for the main yard where Jon was already patiently waiting for her, as was the remainder of the Stark family. Her eyes landed on Robb who looked solemn, but there was a fire in his eyes. He was not okay with this and neither was Han who stood off to the side with a similar glint in his eyes. He had come to her and pled his case. She still wasn't okay with him, but she listened to him.

Flashback

"How ya feeling kid? You don't look so bad to me. You look strong enough to pull the ears off a gundark.* But Zip, this is a bad idea. Trust me, I know bad ideas. If you go up there, and war breaks out, you could die. What then? The kid and the baby would be lost. Shoot, I'd be lost. If you go up there, you better be careful and use that mumbo-jumbo wisely."

End Flashback

She inwardly smirked at the mumbo-jumbo comment. Han Solo had always been a skeptic...until Ben. Then, he silently, begrudgingly acknowledged the force.

Her force senses tingled; there was another trying to send her a message or feelings. Allowing the message to enter, Bran's hoarse voice "Be safe, Zi. The Night King is on the march."

I will. That's all she could muster. Bran was connected to that thing. It was a small tether, but one nonetheless. How that came about, she wasn't sure. It caused her immense discomfort. When she returned, they'd have to work on blocking and possibly severing the connection.

Approaching the family, she gave each of them a nod, and once she reached Robb, she couldn't help but hug him. He stiffened at first, but she refused to let go. Zipporah needed to memorize his smell. Eventually, after some time, he relaxed and hugged her back. An odd sensation hit her cheek. Reaching up, she touched it--tears. She was crying. How often did she get that sentimental? Ashamed, Zi quickly pulled herself together and moved to face him. Locking eyes, they had a silent conversation.

I don't like this.

I know. I'm not thrilled either. It must be done.

You're taking your swords of light?

Yes, those are in my bag. I won't use them if I don't have to. If the men see them...

I do not care what they see. Your safety is far more important.

Yes, my wolf. I'll be back before you know it. I love you.

And I, you.

Nodding to herself, Zipporah left his warmth and climbed upon her horse. Jon had been more than patient with her. Glancing about, she noted the guards and prisoners that would be trailing behind them. Hopefully, the extra men would help.

Jon motioned for her to move, and she did.

                                                                                        ARYA

As she watched Zi and Jon leave, her heart sank. They wouldn't have the extra protection--Jon and Zi were important. Besides her father and Robb, they were the two best fighters. Worry flooded her. What if the lions attacked again? Would Zi see it in time and then warn Winterfell or were they are their own?

Angrily huffing away from the yard, not waiting to see their figures disappear through the gates, Arya paced, even stomping at times, back to her room. She needed to practice with Needle. Grabbing the case from her trunk, she quickly opened it, removed Needle, and began to move with the thin blade.

Arya felt confident while holding it. This would be her protection, and she smirked slightly at the thought of protecting Sansa as well. Her musings were loud and senses were immediately distracted.

"Whose sword is that?" Her father's voice questioned, interrupting and silencing her thoughts of courage and bravery.

"Mine." She replied in a defensive tone.

"Give it to me." He calmly stated, and she reluctantly handed it over. Ned Stark examined the small, thin blade.How could she have gotten hold of such a unique weapon?

"I know this maker's mark. This is Mikken's work. Where did you get this? This is no toy. Little ladies shouldn't play with swords." He gave her a pointed look, attempting to emphasize his last comment.

Frowning, Arya pushed back in a tone he hadn't heard from her before, "I wasn't playing, and I don't want to be a lady." He wasn't surprised by her comments, but the tone was off putting. What was his youngest daughter putting on her shoulders?

"Come here." He murmured as he pulled her close, and asked, "What do want with this?"

"It's called Needle." Was all she could muster.

"Oh a blade with a name." He chuckled and pressed,"Who were you hoping to skewer with Needle? Your sister? Do you know the first thing about sword fighting?" A part of him was amused by this weapon and his daughter's passion for wanting to learn.

"Stick'em with the pointy end."

"That's the essence of it."

"I was trying to learn. I was going to practice with Jon and Zi, but they're gone." Her tone took a somber tone and her face seemed to communicate that she felt partially at fault. Ned Stark was stunned. How could Arya blame herself for them leaving?

"They had to go to the Wall. The Whitewalkers are marching this way. Who better to send?"

                                                                              JON/ZIPPORAH

"You brought your good sword, right?" Zipporah questioned to break the silence of the ride. It had been several hours of dead silence, and she could no longer deal with it.

"Of course I did. Why ask that?" Jon muttered back, slightly insulted. He hadn't anticipated that question. There were so many possibilities, and she went with that one?

"In my previous travels, sometimes someone forgets the good weapon. You've actually swung at someone, right?" She challenged with a slight smirk.

"Of course I've swung it at people, your husband being one of them." Jon stated matter-of-factly. "I was with you in battle, remember?"

"No, I really mean at someone. When you actually strike a man, it takes but a moment to see him as a sack of meat and blood...battle is fast. I'm talking slow." Her voice died out and an indiscernible look crossed her normally serene features. Quickly clearing her throat at her callus deduction, she pushed, "Why does the Wall exist?"

"You've read about it." Jon returned slightly dismissive. Her comment about men being sacks of meat had greatly disturbed him. She was of House Stark and yet that comment was the least honorable thing to say about taking another's life.

However, a part of him couldn't help that she was partially right.

"Books don't communicate emotion."

"The Wall and Night's Watch has been around for 8,000 years; we've been guarding the kingdom from wildlings and whitewalkers."

"We?" Zipporah softly questioned as she turned to stare him down sad eyes. He felt heat rise to his cheeks.

"It was a dream of mine--before I found out that I more than a bastard."

Nodding, her voice turned strong, tense and her eyes flashed, "Damn straight. You're going to be King."