"Very well," Catleyn said with a resolved voice. "Apart from the creatures you mentioned… what else would you require for this ritual?"
Dean had already thought this through during his time in the prison chamber. Every word, every detail had been prepared in advance. So he didn't need to spend time to think about it.
"The place must be prepared first," he said calmly. "The ground beneath the heart tree must be cleared. Fresh snow or clean earth, must remain untouched by footprints or fallen leaves."
He glanced briefly toward Maester Luwin before continuing.
"I will need weirwood leaves, if any can be gathered, and a bowl carved from heartwood or any pale wood that has not been used before. A small amount of clean water from the hot springs beneath Winterfell. And ash from a hearth that has burned through the night without being put out."
Taking a deep breath he continued.
"With these, I will draw the patterns, the Old Gods favor making it possible for me to communicate with them."
The room remained quiet as he spoke.
Dean paused for a few seconds and then added, as his tone turned incomparably serious.
"This is for Lord Stark and for the future of Winterfell. That is why I named the strongest creatures for the sacrificial ritual. The clearer the offering, the clearer the communication."
A sad smile appeared on Dean's face as he shook his head and coughed a little. His throat had gone dry after talking for a while.
Still he continued maintaining the seriousness of the situation.
"But the Old Gods would prefer that I hunt them myself. That is their way. But we do not have that kind of time as Lord Stark might be in danger already."
He looked directly at Catelyn.
"So I will take the risk. I will use what the maesters might call… a bending of the old ways."
His voice lowered slightly.
"We may still succeed. But there may be a cost."
"A mark of displeasure," he added grimly. "The Old Gods do not forget when their ways are bent.....Still, I am willing to bear their rage, their punishment. If it means protecting Lord Stark… and Winterfell."
Silence followed as Dean finally stopped talking.
The people in the room couldn't help but wonder whether Dean was really risking it all for the sake of Winterfell.
Though they found it hard to beleive, but since Lady Stark was firm with her orders to help the deserter, they kept their opinions to themselves.
Catelyn did not let the silence last for long.
She turned to Maester Luwin at once. "See that everything he has asked for is prepared," she said firmly. "The godswood is to be cleared, and the items gathered without delay."
Luwin inclined his head. "It will be done, my lady."
Then she turned to Ser Rodrik. "And the creatures. Have men ready by dawn. Choose your best hunters and see the beasts brought back alive, yet half-dead."
Ser Rodrik straightened. "As you command, my lady."
Her gaze returned to Dean.
"You named them before," she said. "Say them again."
Dean spoke without pause. "A northern elk, a garron, an auroch, a bear and a falcon."
Ser Rodrik frowned slightly but gave a nod as his mind turned to the men he would need. This would not be an easy hunt. Some of the beasts the deserter had named were no small quarry and bringing them back half dead would be far harder than simply killing them.
Dean then added, "The falcon must not be injured. It should be trapped, not harmed."
He did not explain further, and no one in the room questioned it. Compared to everything else Dean had said so far, this small condition did not seem strange enough to draw attention.
But Dean had his own reasons.
This was because of the killing blow theory he had been thinking about in relation to his Shadow Extraction ability.
If delivering the final blow to already weakened animals did not work, then he needed a backup. At the very least, he could secure the falcon as his shadow by killing it entirely on his own.
The falcon would be brought in unharmed by anyone else. That meant the kill would be his from beginning to end.
A guaranteed result.
'Fuck… if only the rules were clear, I wouldn't have to go through all this,' Dean muttered inwardly.
Just as he had expected, Catelyn turned to Ser Rodrik and gave a firm nod, silently instructing him to carry out everything Dean had requested without question.
Then her gaze returned to Dean.
"From this moment on, Will of the Night's Watch is dead," she said. "That name will not be spoken again within these walls. Your new identity will be that of a guard under Ser Rodrik Cassel. You will serve quietly and without drawing attention."
Her voice softened, but the weight of her words only deepened.
"You must be prepared to embrace this fully. You will not be able to return to your past life. You will never see your family again."
She paused for a brief moment before adding, "But you need not concern yourself with their well-being. Your family will be taken care of."
Dean gave a slow nod.
In truth, he did not feel much. The memories he had inherited from Will were nothing more than fragments of information, cold and distant, like pages from someone else's life. There was no real emotion tied to them. No warmth. No attachment.
Will's family consisted only of his aging grandparents, both already standing at the edge of their final days. Dean felt no love for them, but there remained a faint sense of obligation simply because he now occupied their grandson's body.
Now that Catelyn had given her word, even that small burden lifted from his shoulders.
He lowered his head slightly and lied through his teeth. "The moment the Old Gods chose me as their medium, my life ceased to be my own. What remains now is their will… and the future of Winterfell."
He paused briefly, then added, forcing a slight tremor into his voice. "It will not be easy to leave my family behind… but it is what must be done."
His eyes were filled with tears by the end of his sentence.
However in his mind he was thinking only one thing. 'Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh....'
Catelyn watched him closely.
He was a young man, no older than three and twenty, yet he accepted such a heavy burden without any protest. The sight stirred something within her.
Even the others in the room were still wary of him, but they could not fully hide their sympathy.
She turned to Ser Rodrik and gave a final nod.
Ser Rodrik stepped forward at once. He drew his sword and cut through the ropes around Dean's wrists in a single motion.
The ropes fell away, and for the first time since his capture, Dean stood free.
Catelyn looked at Dean.
"I have decided to trust you," she said. "I am giving you your freedom. Do not make me regret this."
Dean flexed his fingers, feeling the freedom return.
For a brief moment, doubt crossed his mind. Was this trust, or just another way to control him? A way to make him lower his guard while eyes followed his every move?
He could not tell, but it did not matter. This was still better than before.
"You have my thanks, my lady." He gave a respectful bow.
Catleyn accepted it and uttered. "Cut your hair. Shave your beard. You will not look like the man you were And choose a new name for yourself."
Dean fell silent for a few seconds.
Then he spoke,"My lady… from this moment on, I am Dean Winchester."
He almost smiled as he wondered if his father would have been happy for using the name of his most favourite character of the show.
'Yeah...he definitely would.'
He pushed the thought aside quickly and brought his focus back to the present.
This was no longer his old life.
And with a new name and a new role, everything had begun to change once again.
Catelyn did not waste any more time. She dismissed everyone with a firm command, sending them out to carry out their tasks without delay. The room slowly emptied, each person leaving with their own thoughts, their own doubts, and their own responsibilities.
Robb and Theon remained. Without a word, they motioned for Dean to follow them and led him through the corridors of Winterfell.
They brought him to a smaller chamber where a basin of water, a stool, and a few tools had already been arranged. A servant was called in, and Dean was made to sit as the process began.
His beard was trimmed and then shaved clean. After that, his hair was cut short, the longer strands falling away one by one. The man who had entered Winterfell as a deserter slowly disappeared.
Once it was done, they took him to the baths. Warm water filled the stone basin, and faint steam rose in the cold northern air as Dean stepped in.
Robb and Theon remained nearby not leaving him alone.
'Did Catleyn really gave my freedom back or are these guys just some pervs,' Dean looked at them with narrowed eyes.
However he didn't voice out his thoughts as the hot water was really comfortable and he wouldn't want to spoil his mood because of these two.
For a while, no one spoke, and Dean continued bathing in silence.
Then Robb finally broke it. His voice was quieter now, less wary than before. "Wil-no Dean...The Wall… you served there."
He paused before asking, "Are they real? The White Walkers… do they truly exist?"
Theon said nothing, but his attention sharpened as he listened. His eyes remained fixed on Dean, waiting for the answer.
Dean leaned back slightly in the water and let a moment pass. Then he spoke in a calm voice. "They're real."
"More real than most people are ready to accept."
☩ ───── End of Chapter ───── ☩
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