Bran Stark sat at the entrance of Winterfell watching Arya load up her mare with food and supplies. She noticed Bran watching her and smiled at him. He smiled back, knowing that this was the last bit of peace she would have for many months. He did not pity her though. What she was doing was necessary and she would return a stronger and more refined version of herself. The lessons she learned on her travels would train her well for the turmoil he saw ahead.

Arya's gaze was drawn to something behind him and he turned in his chair to see Jon and Sansa conferring on the ramparts.

As they watched, Jon kissed Sansa's heavily-gloved hand and bowed, before taking his leave. Sansa saw them watching from below and gave a small wave, followed by a sad smile.

"It seems it is the fate of our house, never to remain together for long," Arya mused, turning back to the task at hand.

Bran did not answer, instead contemplating the delicate snowflakes beginning to fall from the grey sky above. A light wind picked up and swirled the snow about them, the feathery flakes kissing his cheeks and sticking in his eyelashes. By nightfall, the light dusting would turn into stinging sleet as the wind grew stronger and howled through the surrounding woods. Travel would become impossible and Arya would have to rest overnight in a neighboring village. The one night would turn into two nights, then a week, and then a fortnight, before the blizzard finally lifted and she was able to continue on her mission. However, even then she would-

"You might want to pack an extra cloak, little sister. It looks as though it will be a cold night," Jon's voice interrupted Bran's thoughts.

Bran shook his head, trying to return to the present. As he learned more about his powers, it became harder and harder to resist the pull of the future. Seeing all of time at once made seeing what was happening under his very nose very difficult; like trying to spot a needle in a field of tall grass. There were too many other timelines demanding his attention that he often found himself lost in them, so much so that when he was inevitably dragged back to the present, he was never quite sure he was in the right time or whether he had taken a wrong turn on his way back.

As Bran's consciousness realigned with the moment his siblings were living in, their conversation floated to his ears over the now-persistent wind.

"How long will you be gone?" he heard Jon asking Arya.

"Until I've done all I need to. Sansa needs information and I am in the best position to get it for her."

The corner of Jon's mouth twitched in amusement. "So you agreed to be her spy?"

Arya smirked back. "For now. The Seven Kingdoms are still unstable, and until our rulers are firmly in power, there will be those trying to push their way into the grab for power." She tightened the final strap on her mare's saddlebags. "Who better to find potential threats and put an end to them than the girl with no face?"

Jon gave a deep sigh. "Aye, I guess both you and Sansa are correct about that." He looked down at his feet. "I just wish you would come with me."

Arya turned toward him and placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Do not worry, Jon. As soon as I am done with my mission, I will find you again. Maybe I can help you take down a few giants." She turned back to her mare and idly adjusted a clasp. "At least for a little while."

Bran smiled to himself. Arya would never spend much time in one place. After her mission, she would join Jon for a short while. But then, she would become restless and would instead travel back to King's Landing for a short while to visit with-

"And what of you, Bran?" came Jon's call, raising his voice to be heard over the swirling wind. Again, Bran was yanked back to the present. "Would you like to join me in the far North?"

"I am sorry, Jon, but I'm afraid I have had more than a lifetime's fill of the world beyond the Wall," Bran answered. "Besides, you will have Tormund to accompany you."

At the mention of his old friend's name, Jon's face split into a wide grin. "Aye, I guess that's true. Well, if you lot insist on leaving me to venture out without your aid, Tormund will have to do."

Bran fixed his gaze on Jon's smiling eyes. "You will never be without my aid."

Jon's face became solemn once more. He dipped his head and said softly, "And for that I am grateful. More than you will ever know."

Bran turned his attention to Arya. "You as well."

She too dipped her head. "Thank you, Bran." She turned to Jon. "Will you ride out with me, at least to the King's Road?"

As Bran watched his brother and sister fade over the horizon, he felt a pang of fear for them. They faced a great many challenges in pursuit of the peace they sought. But he also felt a swelling sense of pride. As long as there were people in this world fighting for justice and goodness, evil would never have the final word. This he knew, as assuredly as he knew Jon would never return to Winterfell and that a famine twenty years from now would bring new rebellion and war. Their land would never be at rest. But for now, it was at peace.