Hey people. This is my first story on . This fanfic is also published on wattpad, and if you don't think it's too much trouble, I would appreciate it if you go there and vote on it. Thank You.

Bowen Marsh, first steward of Castle Black closed his eyes as the black brothers swept over him.

He could hear the giant roaring. Wick Wittlestick was cursing as their brothers disarmed him. He felt his sword being taken away. The sword his father had made for him when he came to the wall! The sword that had saved him on the Bridge of Skulls, but otherwise had not seen much use! The sword he would not use on his own lord commander!

As his legs were swept from under him by a kick, he remembered the words of his vows. Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. People were shouting all about him, trampling him. But he never opened his eyes. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. His death was close now, he could hear it in the voices of his brothers. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. Someone was trying to help him up, but there was a shout, and the hand was wretched away. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come. And then he remembered hearing them from the mouth of young Jon Snow. The boy was going against his vows, Bowen thought as some held him up. He had promised to take no hand in the matters of the seven kingdoms. Had sworn to set aside his past loyalties when he took the black. Had sworn to protect the realms of men from the horrors from beyond the wall. Bowen began to weep, for deep down somewhere, he knew that all this had not pushed him over the edge, but it had been the fear that the boy was going to bring the ire of the house Bolton on the Night's Watch. He did not even care about the steel that was tearing at his chest.

When he came to, he was being roughly shaken by a mailed hand. He opened his eyes, slowly getting his bearings together. Ser Axell Florent was bearing down on him, fury etched in every line of his face, ordering him to get up, telling him that he was in the presence of the queen. When Bowen got to his feet, he found himself in the king's tower, surrounded by the queens knights, no not the queen, he thought, the widow!

The queen was there, with her daughter Shireen, the red priestess Melisandre, the fool Patchface, and now that got a good look around, it seemed that all of the prominent queen's men and even some black cloaks were here.

Ser Axell still had a grip on him, and was shaking him as he spoke to the queen "We should offer this traitor to the black brothers" he was saying, "That should show them that we stand by their side, and not Tormund Giantsbane's."

"And what side would that be uncle?" the queen's voice was a whiplash, the result of fury and fear at her husband's death, "The black brothers do not take any sides, and you just saw what happens to those of them who try, I think the Night's Watch has made it clear that it will not take up steel against the Boltons Ser."

Weakly, Bowen made himself speak, "what do you mean, offer me to my brothers?"

Ser Axell looked at him angrily, "they are gathered outside the tower demanding that we leave their hospitality, such as it was."

A Black Brother Spoke to the queen, "your king has lost his war Your Grace", on squinting at him, Bowen recognized him as Leathers. His head was still spinning from the wound in his ribs, "That accursed letter spoke of Boltons coming down on Castle Black if we do not hand you over to them. The least you could do is leave on your own accord."

"Do we know this for certain?" Selyse turned to Melisandre, "my lady, please tell me, is Stannis…?" she trailed off, clearly not wanting to say the word.

Melisandre had been looking at Bowen till now, "The lord has not blessed me with the answer to that question your grace, every time I look for Stannis, I see only snow. But I have seen the wildlings amassing under our banners. Tormund is where you shall find an ally Your Grace, not the black brothers."

"King Stannis left the wildlings here; he knew that they could not fight for shit. You saw that at the battle beneath the wall." Ser Axell replied, "We should make our peace with the black brothers, and persuade…"

"I will make peace with the black brothers, no more. You heard Lady Melisandre uncle..."

"Yes I heard her" Ser Axell exploded, "Yes I heard her. Just like I heard her telling of stone dragons and heroes long dead. And now your husband has joined them!" He took a knee before Selyse "I no longer know whether Stannis is Azor Ahai or not, but I know that I will not let my niece and her daughter go the same way. I am not proposing to ask the Night's Watch to take up arms against the Boltons, I just want a promise of safe passage to the Eastwatch and then a ship to Braavos."

Shocked silence followed that ouburst. Bowen himself was shocked. He knew Axell Florant to be the leader of the queen's men, the foremost of the men worshipping the red priestess. And now he saw the same uncertainty on his fellow comrades, all save the queen herself!

Selyse's face was stone, "Flee?" she spat the word. "Flee? Is that your counsel uncle?"

"Think of your daughter!" There were tears in the stout man's eyes.

"You think of her, Ser" Melisandre stepped forward, "If Stannis is indeed dead, she, as his heir, is the queen of the realm. By rights, it is your duty to see her seated on the iron throne."

"If Stannis is dead, then according to you, the world will be consumed by darkness" Ser Axell snarled at her, probably for the first time in his life. "Then what does it matter who sits the iron throne."

"It matters, for even if King Stannis is dead, we are not. I took you for a brave man Ser Axell, a brave man fights to the last breath."

"Aye, for a cause he believes in, for something achievable. Stannis may have had a chance to take the throne, and I stood up for him, but Shireen is not Stannis, and this is not a war we can win anymore."

"And what of our true enemy, or have you lost hope there as well?"

"That is a battle for the Night's Watch, or are you suggesting that we all take the black now?"

"No, but I will have you help the Night's Watch, as King Stannis did. Tormund Giantsbane has taken his people and fled, probably to Oakenshield. The Boltons will not trouble them there, as that letter said, but the Black Brothers will not be so indifferent. They will want them gone, and the only source of food for Tormund is Castle Black, surely you see that fighting is eminent Ser"

"So what are you saying, if we ask Tormund to take up sword against Roose Bolton instead of the Night's Watch, he will comply?"

"Yes"

Ser Axell could only stare at her.

"I do not know why, but I know he will." Melisandre said and took a deep breath. She moved to the centre of the hall. "The red god has shown me this. I know that your faith is wavering good sers. There is no shame in that. Even the bravest and the truest may falter in a storm. All such men need is a sign, and I shall give it to you. Come, we must light the nightfire." And she left the hall, leaving them no choice but to follow.

When they came out, the fresh air was a relief to Bowen. But he could smell the tensions here as well. Melisandre was ahead, talking to the men of the Night's Watch, to the men that had been his brothers mere hours ago. To the men that were averting their eyes from his or looking at him with accusation.

By the time the stakes were planted, Bowen Marsh knew he was going to be burned.

Fear rose up his gullet along with vomit. He fell to his knees. Hands grabbed him, as if they were afraid he might run. But he wouldn't. He may not be able to contain his vomit, but he was not such a coward that he would run.

When they were strapping him to the stake, he noticed the body of Jon Snow being brought in front of the stake. Melisandre and her queen's men were chanting but Bowen had eyes only for the young lord commander he had killed. Murdered. Then he felt the flames licking at his feet.

He started screaming when his breeches began to burn.

The fire had not come above his knees yet, and still it felt to Bowen that there was no other pain greater in the world. He could feel his flesh cooking, sloughing off. The smell of burning hair was heavy in his nostrils.

But even as he screamed in agony, Melisandre brought a torch near him and held it there until it caught fire. Bowen felt as if his whole body was burning .He struggled to keep his eyes open. Through a haze of smoke and tears, he saw the black brothers gathered in front of him. I shall live and die at my post. He hoped against hope that one of his brothers will put an end to this, at least the way Jon Snow had put an end to Mance Rayder's burning. But no one was moving. The fire that brings the dawn. They were all watching the red women as she put the newly burning torch to her lips and sucked all the flames in her mouth.

He did not know if he was hallucinating or not. With all the rest of the Night's Watch looking on, the red women knelt over the dead body of Jon Snow and kissed it on the lips. Bowen's beard had caught fire now, but still he struggled to look, and as his eyes burst in their sockets from the heat, the last sight Bowen Marsh ever saw was the corpse in front of him coming alive, shuddering, and then start moving.