(Third-person perspective)
About two years ago
Standing in the serene atmosphere of the Godswood in Winterfell, Aermir found himself surrounded by the six House Stark children: Robb, Jon, Sansa, Arya, Bran, and Rickon. In this sacred forest, he intended to share his knowledge and wisdom with them.
"To become a Warg," Aermir began, his gaze gently shifting from one young face to another, "It means establishing a deep connection with animals, merging your consciousness with theirs. You must learn to listen to their thoughts, feel their instincts, and truly understand their desires."
With gentle and patient manners, he showed us how to clear our minds and open our hearts to listen to the whispers of the wind, the rustling of leaves, and the harmonious call of nature. Each House Stark child has a unique connection with an animal, and Aermir's duty is to guide them in exploring whether this connection can be extended to animals other than Direwolf. Two years of effort yielded only Bran's success; he established a connection with a second animal—a Crow he affectionately named " Winter."
For two years, Aermir devoted countless hours to the House Stark children. He maintained a monthly routine of visiting Winterfell for a week, during which time he tirelessly instructed them on how to transfer their consciousness into the animal they were mates with. As their skills developed, Aermir expanded their horizons beyond the Citadel walls, venturing into the vast wilderness of the North.
Of all the House Stark children, Sansa found herself less fond of outdoor life. Although her tent was as luxurious as a house and fully equipped, she still had reservations about sleeping in such an environment. Nevertheless, she followed Aermir's instructions with the grace of a submissive cat, and particularly enjoyed archery practice and thrilling hunting adventures.
In stark contrast, Arya devoted most of her free time to sword instruction, her passion for combat evident in her unwavering dedication. Meanwhile, Bran and Rickon took pleasure in bothering their Shadowcat companion, the Sith, which was their favorite pastime during their adventures. Occasionally, they would annoy her, and she would give them a good beating without causing them permanent damage, but they learned nothing from it.
They traversed the wilderness with their Direwolf companions, running alongside the pack and moving like elusive shadows through the forest undergrowth. Rickon, however, was an exception. This little boy was not graceful; his presence was as conspicuous as a mammoth in the forest.
The House Stark children embraced their newly discovered power wholeheartedly, filled with awe and reverence for the abilities bestowed upon them. They understood that it was their unwavering trust in Aermir that had enabled them to unleash their potential, but now it was time for Aermir to step back and for the Druid to take his place.
Aermir would regularly visit them as Emre the Druid, attempting to impart magical knowledge. However, despite their best efforts, not one of them could successfully cast even the weakest spell. Aermir soon realized that the Warg lacked Magic Heart, Magic Heart element required for spellcasting. Their grimace flowed in their veins, making them more like his Warg than traditional spellcasters. Before teaching them magic, Aermir had to find a way to create Magic Heart for them.
Just a month ago, Lord Stark bestowed upon Aermir the title of Lord of Moat Cailin and generously gifted him ten thousand gold dragons to repair the Citadel. This act was in gratitude for Aermir's unwavering service to the North.
For two years, Aermir served as commander of the Knights Templar and leader of the Paladins. Through these positions, he successfully quelled the bandit threat that had once plagued the land. His achievements were not overlooked; in the eyes of the North, he not only honed his skills as a commander but also became a highly respected figure.
Now, two glorious years have passed, and Aermir, as Druid, continues to shoulder the heavy responsibility of guiding the House Stark children in learning complex magic and cultivating their connection with nature. However, since Aermir discovered that he could no longer teach them magic, their lessons have become increasingly fewer. He still teaches them, hoping that their magical talents will develop.
Aermir had only been Lord of Moat Cailin for a month, during which time he used every available moment to oversee and coordinate the extensive repairs required for the Citadel. The project was like a giant furnace, consuming his resources at an alarming rate. As a result, Aermir found himself longing to be freed from the relentless demands of his new duties.
Seeking a brief respite, Aermir returned to Winterfell, where he could enjoy leisurely time with his close friends Jon Snow and Robb Stark.
The three raced across the vast, snow-covered lands of Winterfell, their joyful laughter echoing across the tranquil, windswept North. The crisp, cool wind tousled their hair and flushed their cheeks as they spurred their horses forward, vying for victory in a race.
However, Robb, that cunning scoundrel, devised a clever plan to overtake Aermir. He ordered his loyal Direwolf to chase Aermir's horse, hoping to disrupt it and gain the upper hand. Despite Robb's best efforts, Aermir maintained control of his horse, which from that moment on was unbreakable. He skillfully prevented it from panicking and ultimately maintained his lead.
"Still as swift as the wind, "Robb Aermir, his voice full of good-natured banter as they raced side by side.
Aermir occasionally rode a horse, enjoying the simple pleasure of the wind on his face. Sith hated slowing down, preferring lightning-fast dashes, but horseback riding was different; it allowed him more composure. When Sith unleashed his incredible speed, it became extremely dangerous without protective spells. Aermir smiled, galloping alongside his friends, feeling the thrill of the moment.
Even the usually taciturn Jon chimed in, his tone reflecting the friendship between them.
"Let's have a contest," Jon suggested, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
Combat is one of Jon's favorite activities, but he only truly unleashes his skills when he's certain Lady Stark isn't nearby.
Otherwise, he would often let Robb win to avoid unnecessary attention. As the sun gradually set below the horizon, they arrived at the training ground to prepare for a friendly match.
Aermir, a master swordsman, displayed his skills, while Jon and Robb attempted to challenge him. Aermir skillfully dealt with both opponents simultaneously, their swords clashing and sparks flying. In the midst of the fierce exchange, Aermir couldn't help but notice Jon's remarkable improvement in swordsmanship.
Robb also demonstrated his abilities, though he may never earn the title of Great Swordsman, but Jon possesses the potential for that honor. Aermir repeatedly tried to recruit Jon, but he always politely declined, saying, "I have other dreams."
After a satisfying practice session, they headed to the tavern in Winter Town, eager for a hard-earned drink. Nostalgia washed over them as they fondly recalled their childhood adventures and pranks, laughter echoing through their memories.
As Nightfall fell, Aermir began to recount his rise to lord of Moat Cailin and commander of the Knights Templar of the Old Gods. He spoke of the many trials he had faced, including battling bandits, repelling Wildlings raids, and forging deep bonds with the people of the North.
Sansa Stark stood on the archery range in Winterfell, her dark hair swaying gracefully in the breeze. The setting sun bathed the courtyard in a warm golden light. For a long time, the archery range had been her sanctuary, a haven from the burdens of her aristocratic upbringing, giving her a sense of control over her life. She cherished her Lady upbringing, but also had moments when she longed for solitude and self-discovery.
Archery provided her with a much-needed release; in this realm, she could cast aside her troubles and find solace. As she carefully nocked the arrow and drew the string, her attention was distracted by a gentle voice coming from behind her.
"Your aim is impressive, Sansa, but your posture could be improved," Aermir praised, offering constructive criticism of her technique. He approached her with a warm smile, causing her cheeks to flush slightly, and lowered her bow.
"Thank you, Lord Aermir. Your guidance has truly helped me improve."
"Sansa, please don't call me Lord Aermir. I've told you countless times."
"But you are now the lord of the Citadel, so it is proper for me to address you that way. However, I will try my best."
She lowered her head, her cheeks flushing. Aermir pointed to the target decorated with countless bull's eyes.
"You possess innate talent. I have no doubt that you will become an excellent marksman."
Sansa's heart skipped a beat upon hearing his words, but she calmed herself and resolved not to ruin their friendship.
"I hope so," she replied softly.
As they whiled away the time at the archery range, Aermir noticed a subtle change in Sansa's behavior. She seemed more reserved, and her eyes held a mysterious light he couldn't decipher. Yet, to him, she was still his childhood friend, the little girl who had grown up with Robb.
Aermir's actions weren't overtly romantic, but he showed kindness and care for all his friends, just as he had for Robb and Jon. Sansa cherished their friendship, but deep within her lingered an unspoken hope, a desire that always seemed impossibly distant.
As the sun began to sink below the horizon, they finally laid down their bows and arrows. Aermir turned to Sansa and said, "I had a lot of fun, Sansa. We should do it again sometime."
Sansa's heart churned at his words, but she forced a smile, concealing her inner turmoil. "I had a lot of fun too. Yes, we should do it again."
As they strolled back to the great Citadel together, Sansa couldn't help but think about their future. At this moment, she would cherish their friendship and continue to be his supporter.
In the dim light, Aermir's gaze softened, and he gently placed his hand on her shoulder. " The Cailin River will always welcome you, Sansa. Never forget that."
She nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Aermir. I will always remember you."
Just as they were saying goodbye, Aermir felt someone rushing towards him. He had already caught Arya's scent, but pretended not to notice her lurking in the shadows. Suddenly, she jumped onto his back and shouted, "I've got you!"
Sansa's eyes widened in shock. She warned her sister, " Arya, you Little She-Wolf, you Wildlings! Get off his back right now!"
Arya stuck her tongue out at her sister and said dismissively, "No, he lost."
Aermir smiled, trying to de-escalate the situation. " Sansa, it's not a problem, she's just a child."
Arya stood her ground, retorting, "I'm not a child."
Aermir teased her further, asking, "Should I call you Miss?"
Arya jumped off Aermir's back, her expression turning serious. "No!"
"So what are you?" Aermir asked with a grin.
Sansa chimed in, "She's a beast!"
Arya stuck her tongue out at her sister again, reiterating her wish with unwavering determination in her eyes; Arya declared, "I am not Wildlings, not a beast, and not Lady. I will become a warrior of the North, and then a commander of the Knights Templar."
Aermir chuckled at her ambition and said, "So, you want to steal my job? Good luck."
However, Arya was unfazed by his teasing. She clenched her fists, her fiery spirit unwavering. "You'll see," she declared, "I will become a warrior greater than you!"