As a note, I am going on a work trip for the next two weeks and so won't be able to upload so I shall do the two weeks now. Hope you enjoy it.
Also, in the future I plan to finish the first volume of this, then pause this and work on a different bit of work, which I think will be a spy MCU because I want to work on my writing skills, in dialogues and characters.
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Version 2.0
Outsides the kingdom of Winter on the borders of the Red Kingdom, villages caught between kings suffered the most. Farmers looked over their shoulders as they worked the animals seeing how the fields were still dead, they listened for the sounds of clashing bronze. Skirmishes constantly flared along the borders, quick strikes that left bloodstains on snow and soil.
Meanwhile, Brandon rested within the halls of Winterfell. The battle that had claimed Aloe and sparked the people into conflict and war had warn Brandon down. His injuries, though mending, left him bound to slow movements, his muscles still screaming at excessive movement. Yet, amid Brandon still smiled brightly.
Elinor gave birth to their first child. The night was crisp, the wind howling beyond Winterfell's walls as it heralded the arrival. The babe, a boy, had hair as dark as the midnight sky and eyes that held the gray of the winter sky. He let out a strong cry and did not stop even after a few hours.
Brandon cradled his son in his arms. "Hello, Harlon," he whispered. Beside him, Elinor smiled, exhaustion but with pride on her smile. The child's small fingers curled around Brandon's thumb; before it let out another cry.
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The great hall of Winterfell hummed with the warmth of laughter and the bright energy of children darting between the tables. Brandon sat at the head of the long table, a rare smile gracing his rugged face as he held his son whilst watching his friend's kids play around.
Beside him, Elinor's laughter joined the rising chorus of mirth. She reached out, pinching Harlon's cheeks getting a small cry before going back to sleep, then casting a fond glance at her Brandon. Around them, the chamber was alive with their friends who had come to share in some rare peace.
Edric shared an animated tale with Jon and Jocelyn. When little Ben, Edric's eldest, chased after Beric as they played tag around the table. The boys darted among the grown-ups, messing around and causing their mothers to reprimand them only to be saved by their fathers, letting them continue to play.
"Play." Sarra, Edric, and Lyanna's second child, called out, holding her arms to her mother. The girl's red hair, starting to show streaks of striking white, beamed up at her mother, demanding attention.
"Alright, sweety," Lyanna said, picking her up, earning a giggle, as she lightly swung her daughter around before blowing a raspberry onto her skin.
Further down the table, Alys chatted with her husband, Benjen, and their son Torrhen.
"It doesn't matter Torrhen. Just because you are older does not mean that you can't play with them." Alys whispered to her son, as he watched Ben and Beric playing tag.
"Go on son," Benjen said as he pushed his son forward.
Jon observed the scene quietly, a faint smile hidden beneath his dark beard. He watched as Beric finally caught up to Ben, which is when Torrhen came up, asking if he could play, which the kids were eager to say yes to.
Jocelyn's voice broke through Jon's reverie as she playfully nudged him. "Not thinking of any ideas, are you?" she teased. Jon's serious expression softened, and he reached out to wrap an arm around her waist.
"Maybe?" He teased back.
"Careful now, Ben," Lyanna called, her voice sharp, as Ben ran past her, nearly knocking into her, trying to reach Torrhen. "We don't want to be breaking anything again, now do we?" He gave a stair that caused Ben to turn sheepish.
Brandon chuckled. "If he does, we can just blame Edric," he said, earning a mock glare from his friend.
Brandon raised his cup, the faintest glimmer of gratitude in his eyes. Brandon smiled as he watched everything that he had built towards. Everything felt perfect and right.