— AS the sun continued its ascent, bathing Silverpeak in a gentle morning warmth, a gathering of onlookers had formed in the courtyard. The news of Caelan's impending journey to Winterfell, leading a select group, had swiftly spread throughout the stronghold. The atmosphere buzzed with a mixture of anticipation and curiosity.

Among the assembled party, Jorik Snow, his fiery red hair recently cropped short, stood firmly holding the reins of his horse. He also kept a watchful eye on a black mare bearing the deserter, ensuring the man remained secure in his restraints. Ser William, a sturdy figure atop his own horse, exuded an air of readiness.

Meanwhile, Martyn and Elays, the eager young recruit who had enthusiastically accepted the invitation to join the expedition to Winterfell, remained on foot for the moment. Their interactions with their families, as they bid farewell. Caelan observed their farewells for a moment before turning his attention to his own family members who had gathered.

Approaching him with an air of authority, his father, Lord Arion, cast a commanding shadow. Gareth, mirroring their father's stature but exuding a gentler demeanor, stood beside him. Mia, Gareth's wife, who was nearing the end of her pregnancy, offered a warm and supportive presence. Finally, on the other side of Lord Arion, stood Elira, her vibrant golden hair cascading freely over her shoulders, her eyes a reflection of both pride and concern for her elder brother's impending journey.

Amidst the gathering in the courtyard, Lord Arion's deep voice broke the calmness around them. "Caelan," he began, his tone tinged with pride, "you bear the honor and duty of House Valnor. Delivering the deserter to Winterfell is not merely a task, but an opportunity."

Caelan met his father's gaze, his own gaze mirrored the seriousness in his fathers. "I understand, Father," he replied. "I'll ensure that the deserter is delivered to Lord Stark promptly."

Gareth, his younger brother, offered a reassuring nod. "We have faith in you, Caelan," he added, his voice calm and supportive. "Perhaps more swiftly than this old Lord could." his tone changing to carry more amusement as he smirked to their father. Lord Arion fought a small smirk that was framed by a gray beard.

"Why else would I give him such a task?" he replied, his tone now light with amusement instead of holding such a commanding presence.

Mia stepped forward, a hand gently finding a place on her husbands arm, her other resting on her belly. "Please return safely, Caelan," she said, her voice filled with genuine concern. "Hopefully before the little one arrives."

"Perhaps also with news of an upcoming union." Elira chimed in, stepping forward and quickly closing the gap between herself and Caelan, pulling him into a hug. "Perhaps Lady Lyanna Stark will be more captivating than you think."

Caelan couldn't help but offer Elira a smile tinged with a bit of irritation.

He nodded at his family, dropping his arms from around Elira and decided to disregard her banter and found his fathers eyes again. "I'll do my best,"

Lord Arion placed a reassuring hand on Caelan's shoulder. "You've been groomed for this, son. Now go, and may the journey be swift and uneventful."

Caelan looked at his father one last time, a silent acknowledgment of the trust placed in him, before turning to the group of men who had assembled for the journey. Jorik Snow, Ser William Stone, Martyn White, Elays, and Scalebreaker at his waist, were all prepared to go.

Jorik grinned at Caelan as Caelan pulled himself onto his horse,  "Ready to hit the road, my lord?"

Caelan nodded, his gaze flickering to the black mare holding the deserter. "Let's get going. The sooner we're on the road, the sooner we'll be back."

The party slowly navigated the winding stone streets of Silverpeak. The well-worn path seemed to guide them, eventually leading them to the imposing gate crafted from stone and silver. With a creak, the gate was drawn back, unveiling the route that descended from the fortress. This path would take them through the dense pine forests and winding mountain trails.

As the party of riders departed from Silverpeak, they ventured into the untamed lands surrounding their stronghold. The forested trails, worn by countless travelers over the years, provided a natural route through the rugged terrain. Caelan rode at the head of the group, his thoughts divided between the upcoming encounter with Lord Stark and the burdens of leadership that rested upon his shoulders.

The initial days of their journey were filled with the serenity of nature, as the towering pine trees provided a comforting canopy of shade. Conversations among the group ebbed and flowed, occasionally interrupted by the songs of birds or the distant howling of wolves. Caelan and his companions traded stories and jests to ease the monotony of the journey.

During one evening's campfire, as the orange flames crackled and cast dancing shadows, Caelan found himself seated near the deserter. The man, a former member of the Night's Watch, had been silent for most of the trip. His weathered face carried a haunted expression, and his eyes were often cast downward.

Caelan passed a plate of food to the deserter, who had received little more than scraps since his capture. "Eat," Caelan said, his tone firm yet not unkind. "We've a few days left on this journey, and you'll need your strength."

The deserter's hands shook as he accepted the plate, his gaze meeting Caelan's for a brief moment. There was gratitude in his eyes, mixed with a profound weariness that spoke of a troubled past. Although they had yet to engage in conversation, Caelan couldn't help but wonder about the events that had led this man to forsake his vows and flee the Night's Watch.

As the days passed, the riders pressed on, crossing streams and ascending steep mountain trails. The air grew colder as they climbed higher, and the forest gave way to rocky terrain and open expanses. Caelan's mind was consumed by thoughts of the impending meeting with Lord Stark, and he couldn't help but feel the weight of his responsibility.

During a particularly chilly night, while the riders huddled around their campfire, Caelan finally decided to speak with the deserter. He could no longer ignore the curiosity that had gnawed at him since they'd left Silverpeak.

"What drove you to abandon your oath to the Night's Watch?" Caelan asked, his voice gentle yet inquisitive. The eyes of Elays widened as he looked from his food to the deserter, intrigued by what he would say.

The deserter hesitated for a moment, his breath visible in the crisp night air. "My Lord, when I spoke of the white walkers, I spoke the truth," he asserted once more, determination burning in his eyes.

Caelan felt his shoulders slump, a mixture of weariness and frustration settling upon him. He shook his head, his gaze moving away from the deserter's earnest face, as if searching for answers in the cold darkness that surrounded them. "Objects of a tale told to children to keep them in their beds won't be enough to keep you from facing Lord Stark," he replied with a heavy sigh, his voice carrying a hint of exasperation.

The deserter's voice remained steadfast, his tone tinged with desperation. "It's not a story," he insisted, a note of urgency creeping into his words. "My lord, I saw it. With my own eyes."

Caelan's gaze returned to the man, his eyes narrowed in skepticism. "A madman sees what he sees."

As the party continued its journey through the rugged terrain of the North, Caelan couldn't shake off the unsettling conversation with the deserter. His thoughts wrestled with doubt and curiosity, the words about the white walkers lingering in his mind like a haunting melody.

Caelan shifted his attention to the members of his party. Riding beside Jorik Snow, he initiated a conversation to distract himself from the eerie tale.

"Jorik," he began, his voice low, "what are your thoughts on this deserter's claims?"

Jorik, with his red hair cropped shorter than usual, looked pensive as he considered Caelan's question. "My lord, it's hard to say," he replied cautiously. "The Night's Watch has been warning of dangers beyond the Wall for generations, but we've never seen any proof of these... white walkers."

Caelan nodded in agreement, his expression reflecting the uncertainty of their situation. "Aye, it's difficult to believe such tales without evidence," he mused, his eyes scanning the land before them.

Ser William Stone, riding a bit ahead with Elays, overheard their conversation and chimed in, his voice carrying a tone of skepticism. "I've heard my share of wild stories while serving as a knight, my lord. Sometimes fear and isolation can play tricks on a man's mind."

Caelan appreciated their input, but his doubts persisted. "True, but this man seemed genuine, even desperate," he pondered aloud, his hazel eyes scanning their surroundings for any signs of danger.

Martyn White, riding at the rear of the group, spoke up, his voice tinged with practicality. "My lord, whether true or false, it's not our place to decide. Our duty is to deliver him to Winterfell for judgment, commanded by Lord Stark."

Caelan nodded. "You're right." he replied, "But no harm in curiosity." he added, his eyes flickering to the black mare being held by Jorik, where the cloaked deserter rode in silence.

As the days of their journey passed, the party drew nearer to Winterfell. The landscape had given way to rolling hills, and the towering walls of the Stark stronghold soon came into view distantly on the horizon. The setting sun bathed the scene in a warm, golden glow, casting long shadows that stretched across the road.

Caelan rode at the head of the group, a sense of anticipation building within him. Winterfell was a place he hadn't visited in years, and the prospect of meeting Lord Stark and, potentially, Lady Lyanna Stark weighed heavily on his mind.

He turned to Ser William Stone, who rode nearby, and spoke, interrupting the conversation between the knight and the young boy, "Ser William, ride ahead and inform Lord Stark of our arrival. Let him know we have the deserter he requested."

Ser William nodded in acknowledgment. "Of course, my lord. I'll see to it immediately."

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authors note:
Seeing that I have writers block on my original...here i am! Hope you enjoy !