Chapter 106: Tales of Bravery!

"Weirwood seeds? I do have some stored," Ned said, looking up from his parchments when Damian asked him.

"I was planning to plant some on Pyke," Damian said, a hint of determination in his voice.

Ned raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. He knew that a weirwood tree had never taken root in the Iron Islands, not only because people followed a different faith but mostly due to the soil being too thin and rocky. Nonetheless, he trusted his brother's judgment and handed a small wooden box of weirwood seeds to Damian.

"Are you sure about this, Damian?" Ned asked, his tone cautious but supportive. "The soil on the Iron Islands is harsh and unforgiving. It won't be easy."

"It doesn't matter. I want to try. If it does grow, then I would feel more at home," Damian said as he took the box in his arms.

Ned nodded thoughtfully. "What are you planning to do today?"

"Nothing planned as such, really. Maybe, play with the kids and spend some time with Mother," Damian replied, his tone light.

Ned gave a small nod, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Hm, do as you want. Ah yes, I have sent letters to House Forrester, Whitehill, and Glover. They can trade you Ironwood for building ships."

Damian's eyes brightened at the news. "Thank you, brother. Ironwood is one of the best materials for building ships. As I have promised, for every three ships I build from Ironwood, one would belong to the North."

Damian had talked Ned into rebuilding the northern fleet on both the west and east coasts. Given the North's limited capital, Damian proposed an innovative solution. The Iron Islands would build ships for the North and, in return, for every three ships constructed from Ironwood provided by the North, one would be delivered back to Winterfell.

The Iron Islands' shipyards, though not as grand as those in Braavos, could produce a longship in just two weeks. However, Damian's vision extended far beyond longships. He dreamed of constructing cogs, carracks, war galleys, and more. With increasing manpower, skilled labor, and plans to upgrade the shipyard, Damian was determined to match the legendary Arsenal of Braavos. He imagined a future where they could build a war galley in a single day if needed.

Ned's smile widened. "It's a generous offer, Damian. The North could use a strong fleet on both coasts."

Damian nodded, the determination clear in his eyes. "The Iron Islands have the shipyards and the craftsmen. With Ironwood, we can build a fleet that rivals any in the world. And the North will have the strength to defend its shores."

Later, as the sun dipped lower in the sky, Damian gathered the children around and began to tell them stories from his travels. He was mindful not to indulge Sansa's fantasies of knights and princesses being saved by gallant heroes. Instead, he chose the tale of Merida from Brave, a story about a strong-willed princess who defied expectations and fought for her family.

Sansa's eyes sparkled with interest as she listened, captivated by the tale of Merida's bravery and determination. Jon and Robb, initially uninterested, soon found themselves drawn into the story. They edged closer, sitting beside their sister, their attention fully captured by the adventures of the fierce Scottish princess.

As Damian spun the tale, two more listeners subtly joined the circle: Lady Lyarra and Old Nan, their faces showing intrigue and enjoyment. They, too, were enthralled by the story of Merida battling to change her mother and younger brothers back to human form, her courage and resourcefulness inspiring all who heard.

"And with her skill and determination, Merida managed to break the curse, proving that strength and bravery can come from anyone, no matter who they are or where they come from," Damian concluded, his voice gentle but firm.

"That was amazing, Uncle Damian!" Sansa exclaimed, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "I want to be brave like Merida!" 

"You already are, Sansa," Damian replied, smiling warmly at his niece. "Remember, true bravery comes from facing your fears and standing up for what's right, no matter the odds."

Jon and Robb exchanged glances, their admiration for their uncle growing. They were inspired not only by the stories of real battle and conquest but also by the values of courage, loyalty, and resilience that Damian imparted through his tales.

"That was a wonderful story, Damian." Lady Lyarra said smiling.

Old Nan nodded, her weathered face breaking into a rare smile. "Aye, young lord, ye've got a way with words. These children will remember this day for years to come. Now, I've got a better story, who wants to hear about the Others."

Jon and Robb were the first to stand up, quickly picking up their sister and making a swift escape.

Damian and Lady Lyarra started laughing at the sight.

"Old Nan, anyone would run away if you keep telling them about the Others," Damian said, trying to console the disappointed old lady.

Old Nan huffed. "The tales of the Others are important. Mark my words, one day they might wish they had listened."

Damian's smile dampened hearing that, a shadow crossing his face. Old Nan had no idea how true her words were in the books, but he quickly covered his reaction.

"Perhaps, Old Nan," he said gently. "But for now, let them enjoy the stories of bravery and adventure."

Old Nan huffed, but a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Aye, perhaps you're right. Let them have their tales of valor and heroes."

Later, Damian walked through the Godswood with Lady Lyarra, sharing his dreams and plans. Her serene smile and words of encouragement bolstered his resolve.

"You have always been driven, Damian. Your father would be proud of the man you've become. Just be sure to take care of yourself, will you promise me that?" she said, her voice soft but firm.

Damian nodded, understanding his mother's worries about him. "I promise, Mother. I'll take care."

They walked and talked for a long while, reminiscing about the past. They spoke of Lyanna, her wild spirit and unyielding will, and Brandon, with his fierce protectiveness and laughter that could fill the halls of Winterfell. Damian remembered playing with his older siblings in the Godswood, the laughter and joy that echoed through the ancient trees.

"Lyanna always had a way of making everyone smile," Lady Lyarra said, her eyes misty with memories. "And Brandon, he was always so protective of you."

"I remember," Damian said softly. "They were the best of siblings. I miss them every day."

"Do you remember how Lyanna used to challenge Brandon to races?" Lady Lyarra said with a chuckle. "She would always find a way to win, even if it meant taking a shortcut through the woods."

Damian laughed, the memory vivid in his mind. "And Brandon would always protest, saying it wasn't fair. But he admired her spirit, as did we all."

Lady Lyarra smiled warmly. "She had a fire in her." Suddenly her eyes filled with tears. "I wish they had never gone south, to the tourney."

"Mother," Damian said gently, taking her hand in his. "The past is in the past. You will never be able to live happily if you delve into what could have been. We must look forward, for ourselves and for those we love."

Lady Lyarra nodded, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "You're right, Damian. It's just... sometimes, the memories are so vivid, so painful."

"I know, Mother," Damian replied, his voice filled with empathy. "But we honor their memory by living our lives to the fullest, by making choices that would make them proud."

"Hm," She nodded, embracing her young son in her arms, like he was still her little baby.

They continued their walk in the Godswood, the tranquil surroundings offering a sense of solace.