Jon

Jon stroked the side of Ygritte's face as the redhead lay next to him bare as the day of her birth. Sleepily her eyes opened gazing back into Jon's. Light flickered against the stone walls of Winterfell as the shadows cast by fire danced like sprites in the forest.

"You are my world Ygritte and for my world I have given a kingdom. Our children will rule over the North for thousands of years until the sun refuses to rise and the world grows cold forever. None will forget the Wildling Queen of the North and her bastard king, for songs will be sung of how we threw out the Andal Kings and reclaimed the Kingdom of Winter for the First Men."

Ygritte smiled and then began to cry; Jon didn't understand why and went to brush away the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Why are you crying, Ygritte?"

Ygritte's breathing grew irregular and inconsistent as she cried. Jon looked to her chest and saw blood dripping from a wound between her breasts. Fear, horror, and woe took hold of Jon as he began to frantically call for servants and for a maester to come and save his wounded queen.

"You can't die Ygritt, I won't allow it!"- rage, fear, and pain all welling up in Jon's increasingly frantic shouts-"I'll save you and we will live as the King and Queen of Winter."

Tears dripped from Jon's face as he embraced his love desperately wondering why no one was coming to help. Were his cries for help not great enough? As he began to lift his queen from their bed to take her to the maester himself Ygritte spoke at again, though her mouth was filled with blood and it dripped down with each word she spoke.

"You know nothing, Jon Snow."

Jon wouldn't accept this; or rather he couldn't accept this. "I would never hurt you. I love you, you know that I have always loved you and always will." Yet as he said this he looked again to the wound in her chest. An arrow was buried deep within her. The unique fletching marked it as Jon's arrow. Grief overcame him as he clung to his dying bride. He embraced her so tightly that were this an old tale her soul might never leave her body and she and Jon would live forever embracing one another until the trees grew around them and they became part of the earth. Yet this did not occur, Ygritte died in Jon's arms as the world faded away and Jon woke from his dream.

Jon's bed was not empty; next to him laid his wife, Val. He looked at her, her blonde hair covering part of her face and he felt guilt return to him for taking a wife so soon after Ygritte's death, for leaving the Night's Watch, and for taking a name that was not his by birth. Val began to stir from her slumber at last and sleepily gazed back at Jon.

"Why does the Lord of Winterfell look so mournful?"

Jon could not bring himself to tell Val of his dream and of his guilt, but he did not have to.

"You miss the girl kissed by fire, the one you stole-" Val's face was one of earnest sadness as she paused for a moment before speaking "I understand your sadness for I miss my Jarl, but we must continue living for them and for ourselves."

Jon and Val held each other tightly in an embrace that warmed them to the world.

Jon dressed himself and looked at the little cloth banner that had been hastily made for him. Upon the banner lay the image of white direwolf surrounded in a heart of flames. It was not the banner of House Stark that had flown at Winterfell during Jon's youth or had been held high above his brother Robb's host as it marched south to avenge the death of their father. He would not use the old banner out of respect for his slain family. The Lord of Winterfell would fly the banner of the white direwolf rising from the flames of rebirth to symbolize the rebirth of the House Stark from Jon Snow through ice and fire. Snow…he had to remind himself that he mustn't think of himself as Jon Snow. King Stannis had offered him an exit from the Night's Watch and an opportunity to have his vengeance on those that had slain his loved ones and he had taken it. Some of his former brothers called him oathbreaker for his abandonment of the Watch, but Stannis had raised him from his status as a bastard and made him Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. As Jon set the banner down a knock at the door broke the silence that filled the room.

Jon looked to Val, who had dressed herself and embraced him from behind, before he opened the door and was faced by one of the queen's men.

"Lord Stark, his Grace commands your presence."

Jon embraced Val for a moment before following the man out into the cold morning air and towards King's Tower. In King's Tower he found the Lady Melisandre seated near the fire, Karhold's castellan Arnolf Karstark in the corner, and King Stannis seated behind the table the Old Bear use to sup at. Jon took the knee only for Stannis to raise his hand for Jon to stand.

"I received a reply to our raven to Bear Island. The Lady Alysane Mormont has bent the knee and has affirmed House Mormont's position as one of the banner men of House Stark. That gives us House Mormont and House Karstark, and half of House Umber."

Jon could see that King Stannis was dissatisfied by the low number of northern lords that that pledged to him.

"Do these men know nothing of honor? They are the banner men of House Stark and yet they spurn the call of their true Lord and his King." irritation swelled within the king's voice.

"They are war weary, your Grace, and the bastard brother of their former king may not be enough to persuade them to send more men to their deaths. We should count ourselves lucky that most have chosen to stay out of the conflict. The Boltons are just as deprived of banner men as we are. Should we be able to demonstrate our strength, the other lords will follow us."

Jon saw Arnolf Karstark move forward to speak.

"Lord Stark is right your Grace, the Northern Lords will rally to your cause if we land a deceive blow to the Boltons. With House Bolton's forces moving south the take Moat Cailin from the Ironborn the Dreadfort will be lightly manned. We should move against the Dreadfort immediately and slit Bolton's throat. The loss of the Dreadfort would be a debilitating blow to the Bolton's and the rest of the Northern lords will flock to your cause."

"Can it be done?" the King asked.

Before Arnolf could go on, Jon cut in. He couldn't believe what he was hearing; that Arnolf's suggestion intrigued and enticed Stannis was clear, but Jon knew better than to believe that Stannis's meager forces were capable of taking the Dreadfort.

"No, it cannot be done." Jon stated firmly.

The Red priestess turned away from her fire and looked to Jon, "And why, Lord Stark, can the lightly guarded den of these traitors not be taken by the King?"

"I was raised on the stories of the Kings of Winter, most children in the North are, and most children can tell you that the Dreadfort will not fall so easily."

The old castellan looked a bit put off by this, but continued to try and justify his cause.

"There will be no more than thirty men defending the Dreadfort and with the Bolton forces moving south, we can take our whole host southwards and besiege the Dreadfort while Bolton besieges Moat Cailin. It will fall in a fortnight and with it so too will fall all support for Bolton. All the Northern Lords will rush out from their hiding places to stand behind the true king of Westeros."

Jon was dumbfounded by the fact that Lord Karstark painted such a attractive picture of what would happen, when any northerner could tell him that what he was advocating was fundamentally impossible. Arnolf should have known better than to believe that the Dreadfort would fall in a fortnight. Yet here he was tempting the king to rush head long into battle against a force that would surely be their doom. It was clear that his rosewater words were warming the king up to the idea and Jon had hurry to quash any notions of taking the Dreadfort.

"I mean no slight Lord Karstark, but this notion of taking the Dreadfort is pure madness. When House Bolton last rose against House Stark it took four years of besiegement for the Dreadfort to finally fall."

"But there are likely only to be a couple dozen men defending the Dreadfort."

"The Dreadfort wouldn't fall in a fortnight even if it was only defended by a dozen men. The defenders will be well provisioned and well equipped to keep us out until Roose Bolton's host marches north and slaughters us outside the Dreadfort's walls. And even if we should manage to escape complete slaughter we will stand completely discredited in the eyes of the Northern Lords who will have no choice but to support Roose Bolton."

Stannis looked sternly at both Jon and Arnolf before finally speaking.

"So what would you have me do, Lord Stark? You yourself said I needed a victory, where must I go to attain this victory so that the Northern Lords will finally do their duty and follow their king? Or would you have me stay here and be forgotten?"

Grabbing a rolled up map on the corner of the table, Jon flattened it out and pointed to Deepwood Motte.

"If we liberate Deepwood Motte from the Ironborn then we have a victory against the enemies of the North under our belt and are like to gain the support of House Glover and those sworn to them. From there we can move southward to free House Tallhart and Torrhen's Square from the Ironborn. By taking the west we give ourselves a stronghold that expands our ranks and legitimizes our cause. It is not a glamorous campaign with a single massive victory over our enemy, but it is a just campaign which will see the Northern Lords declare for our cause, your Grace."

Arnolf looked to be scrambling to save his plan, "The King doesn't need to waste time taking the western coast when he can take the Dreadfort and through it take the whole of the North!" the old castellan angrily replied.

Jon hoped that Stannis would see that his path while not as attractive sounding as Arnolf's was the wiser choice and the choice that would see him gain the North.

"I managed to come back from such a defeat as you describe I would face, Lord Stark. I tried to take Kingslanding with a force much larger than the one I now control but was repulsed and paid dearly for that failure. I am not fool enough to try such a move again and believe that should I fail I will get a third chance. Roose Bolton can keep the Dreadfort for now; we shall march on the west and cast out the Ironborn."

Jon was relieved that Stannis had seen that this path was the only way to achieve victory, but something nagged at him about how adamantly Arnolf Karstark had argued for attacking the Dreadfort when he should have known that it was an impossible task. Perhaps it was just the old man's desire to claim victory, but Jon wondered if the pursuit of honor on the battlefield could truly blind a man to something so obvious as the capabilities of the Dreadfort.

Arnolf

The cold air bit at Arnolf's exposed skin as he stepped out of King Stannis's abode. Though the winds of Autumn chilled his flesh the actions of Ned's bastard had filled him with a burning rage, for the bastard of Winterfell had sabotaged his plot to draw Stannis to the Dreadfort where he and his troops would be slaughtered. Where the Young Wolf would have been like to try and take the Bolton stronghold, his bastard brother was too cautious and had convinced Stannis that the west coast was the path to winning the north. On Jon Snow's advice Stannis was going to try and enlist the aid of the mountain clans before taking Deepwood Motte. While Stannis and most of his host marched through the mountains growing in strength before meeting up with Lady Alysane Mormont and her forces to take Deepwood Motte, Mors Crowfood Umber and Jon Snow would remain with the bastard's wildlings and sizable portion of the Umber forces. The Bastard of Winterfell and his wildling whore were going to venture north of the wall to gather up as many wildings a possible a move that would surely continue to upset many in the Nights Watch. Yes, there was one man on the wall that Arnolf needed to have a discussion with that could very much alter the situation.

Amongst the ravens stood Janos Slynt, waiting for Arnolf as the old man climbed the last steps to the room. Out of courtesy the black brother addressed Arnolf as lord before speaking.

"Lord Arnolf, you know as I that the Nights Watch is not to choose a side in this war?" the sarcasm behind the statement was palpable even and Arnolf chuckled, exposing what few teeth he still possessed.

"I come to consult with you on the prospects of ridding the Watch of that which has gotten in the way of it keeping its vows. The bulk of Stannis's host will be leaving soon with only the wildlings and part of the Umber forces left behind to guard the Wall until the Queen and her men arrive. Should the Nights Watch rise against Denys Mallister they would have the opportunity to cast out the forces that pledge themselves to the usurper and slaughter the wildlings. I'm sure that the Roose Bolton and the Tywin Lannister would be very pleased with the Watch if it acted to protect its autonomy and killed the turncloak Jon Snow."

"Can the Watch count on the aid of Karhold in removing the forces loyal to the userper King?"

"Unfortunately it cannot. Lord Bolton requires the presence of the forces fielded by Karhold to be within the ranks of the Usurper so that when at last the craven Lord Snow believes it time to meet Lord Bolton on the battlefield he will find his army gutted from the inside out."

Slynt's eye flickered with noticeable enough weariness to make Arnolf realize that the craven Southerner might not try to lead his supporters to deposes the Lord Commander and rid the Wall of those sworn to Stannis. He had to think of something that would entice the craven to act. Janos was a narcissist that craved attention, which he thought he could not receive on the Wall he wanted the world to know him and Arnolf knew exactly how to play into this.

"Your name will go done in the annuals of history as the man who defeated the second Night King and freed the Wall. No one will forget Janos Slynt, the 999th commander of the Night's Watch. They will sing songs of you and send great gifts northwards for you. Long after you have died you will be remembered for what you are going to do."

Janos Slynt's lips curled into a twisted smile as the machinations delighted him. A house name lived for a very very long time, but it wasn't often that a man's name was forever remembered. Arnolf saw in that instant that he had the man. Janos Slynt's vanity would play its part in removing those pledged to Stannis from the Wall while Arnolf and his troops marched southwards to meet with Stannis's forces at Torrhen's Square.

"Good bye, Lord Commander" Arnolf uttered as he turned and began to make his way down the steps. Yes, it seemed quite likely that everything was coming into place. After Stannis and Jon Snow were dealt with the Lannisters would kill Harrion as payment and Cregan and Alys would be married. As he made his way down the steps he heard what sounded like the door opening and closing, yet when the door came into view there was no one there. Arnolf's mind began to fill with questions as a slight twinge of fear began to creep into him. Why would someone come in and only to leave in the same moment? Had someone been down here the whole time? Could they have heard him over the squawking of the ravens? Who had it been?

Opening the door Arnolf looked to see if anyone was near, perhaps indicating that they had been the one who opened and closed the door. No one was immediately outside the door and out of the crowd of people no one looked to stand out. Mayhaps it had been the wind or the old man's imagination or someone mistakenly opening the door and realizing they were needed elsewhere; there could be a million reasons for the door having opened. Even as he rationalized the matter, he thought it best not to linger.