Welcome kids to my first fanfiction since 2015! Be gentle with me, its been the HOTTEST Minute.

I just reaaaaaaally hated how season 8 ended, so we out here tryna fix that. I hope I make you proud.

Jon wasn't sure why he expected it to be colder.

It was the thing he anticipated the most when the decision to go back beyond the wall was made. The idea of once again feel the freezing winds of winter to blowing through him and take away all the feeling in his bones. To be taken by the darkest of night and let its terrors consume him. He kept imagining how the cold fury of the North would clench his body and turn to an icy stone, letting him finally get a moment of sleep. It was winter that he wished for, and it's snowy death to take over him.

Yet as the gates before him creaked open, the frozen wasteland beyond the wall felt to give off a warmer breeze than before. It had seemed that winter was truly over, and spring was coming.

The Night King is dead, of course, it's over.

It was decided by the remaining members of the Night's Watch that the Watch itself was no longer necessary after the death of the Night King. Many of the men decided to continue to make the wall their home. The rest of them, as well as all remaining free folk, decided to go back beyond the wall. As an alibi to bring Jon along he was given the title of a ranger, and if anyone was to ask the lie would be that Jon's first task as a ranger was helping the free folk find a new home. The task, however, could take who knows how long. Which technically meant that in those terms that Jon was free, in their eyes anyway. To Jon, he was far from free. It would seem that life itself would be his punishment.

A life for a life, he told himself.

"Jon," He broke out of his trance to the sound of Tormund's voice. It was only then that he realized how far they had traveled. "We rest here for the night."

It took a moment for Jon to realize he had no recollection of this place. "Where are we?"

"The woman here is said to come from a homestead not far from here, made this place all on their own," Tormund told Jon.

"What women?"

"Lord Snow," An older grey haired woman approached him as he dismounted his horse, "Welcome to Widows Keep."

The older woman bowed, the way you would to a King, and it made Jon feel nauseous. He wasn't worthy of any respect. "I know you.. you were Craster's of his wives?"

"Was. Names Sage, my Lord. I am the eldest of the widows here and in that respect makes me their leader." The woman smiled, her warm brown eyes staring at him, "Come, walk with me.'

Jon did as told, following Sage though the homestead. It must have been twice the size of Craster's Keep. He was in awe on how all of these women, once broken and homeless, still could band together to build such a place. Those once meek and timid were now independent and strong. "How many of you made it through the winter?" He noticed as the woman of the homestead that they would bow to him as he passed, and every inch of him hated it.

They wouldn't know of my crimes, he told himself, they couldn't.. not up here.

"As many as you freed when you rescued us from the psychopath who killed Craster, and a few new faces born from the aftermath of the mutiny. Just when you think you've seen the worst of it, there is always worse." Sage told him as she opened the door to the main house.

"Aye, there always is.." As Jon took his first step in the main house he could hear a scream. He reached for Longclaw but Sage's hand stopped him.

She smiled softly. "No worries my Lord, it's just another babe being born."

"They're men here?" Tormund's voice made Jon's head jerk. He hadn't realized his fiery-haired brother had followed him to the main house.

"Not old enough to father children, but there are boys here. Still, the one screaming ain't one of us. She's a member of a different clan that don't got anyone to help their deliver babies." They were approached by a brunette woman, her long hair pulled up and a bloody apron over her handmade dress. Jon could tell by her face she must be one of Gilly's sisters. "I'm Rosemary, the head midwife here at the Keep." Her eyes met Jon's and she smiled, "You must be Lord Snow, don't think we met last few times you were around us."

"No, I don't think we have. Think I would've noticed someone who stands tall like you do, not saying that.." Jon words mixed up in his mouth. He barely knew how to make compliments anymore.

Rosemary smirked, "I know what you mean, my Lord. It was hard to stand tall when he still lived, but we've all grown since then."

Tormund jumped in, trying to save Jon from his embarrassment. "This must be a stupid question, but you look like…"

"Gilly?" She smiled a little wider now, "She and I are both one of Sage's daughters. Mum may not look like it but she birthed a whole lot of us, as well as helped many of us give birth. Now I help all the women here and around. Many clans folk come by and we will help their sick and pregnant. They respect our work, trade with us, and respect us."

"And with the true King of the North staying in our Keep they will continue to do so, even long after he continues his travel north," Sage added on.

Jon sighed, "I'm no King."

"Not yet, my Lord, but soon," Sage replied ominously as if she knew something they didn't. "We have rooms made for you both. And your people may set up camp anywhere in the homestead. Dinner will be served here in the main hall in an hour, you can clean up and join us then."

Rosemary turned to walk away from the boys but quickly turned back. "Come on you two, I'll show you your rooms."

Jon sat in a chair in the corner of the room, his sword and sheath down on the bed ahead of him as well as his heavy winter cloak. He had been sitting there for a long time now, much longer than he anticipated. At one point he had thought about joining the other men for dinner, but instead, he found himself still sitting in the same chair hours later. So many things ran through Jon's mind as he sat there. He hadn't had a moment alone since he left his cell in King's Landing. Since I killed her. Her name sat at the tip of his tongue, and he would not dare speak it. It was almost like saying it would make it more real, but how much more real could it get? He had done what he has done, and his actions ran circles around his heart to remind him of all the wrong he did. All he could keep thinking to himself if it was right.

It had been two months and it still didn't feel right.

A knock on the door made him jump up, Jon taking a deep breath to calm himself before heading over to the door to open it. On the other side was a younger girl, maybe 16 of age. "They asked me to bring your food to you, my Lord. Since you didn't join us for dinner."

Jon sighed with a slight smile as he took the plate from her, "Thank you-"

"Parsley." She smiled for a moment then she started to frown. "Everything alright my Lord?"

Jon looked puzzled, "I'm sorry?"

Parsley leaned closer to him, causing Jon to lean a bit back in confusion but he stopped as he watched her thumb approach his cheek and wiped a tear away. He didn't even realize that he cried, "Try to get some sleep, my Lord, you look tired." Parsley bowed and closed the door behind her, leaving Jon standing there.

His breathing picked up, getting heavier and heavier till the point that he was sobbing. A sudden wave of pent up emotions hit Jon without a moment's notice. His chest rose and fell quickly with every heavy breath, the tears rushing down his face. Every inch of his body ached with the pain of betrayal and loss. Everything Jon once stood for he ruined with the thrust of his blade, and the murder of his blood. His actions made him a kinslayer and queenslayer. But what did you call someone who murders the person they were supposed to love? The only word that he could think of, the only word that spoke the truth, was traitor.

I killed her. I killed her. I killed her. Jon dropped the plate of food and fell to his knees as the thought repeated over and over in his mind, crying so hard he could barely breathe.

And no it doesn't feel right, not one bit.