Jon
Edd woke Jon at dawn, because several ravens were calling for his attention. It was Edd who took care of them these days, but the messages were meant for him and he was quickly on his feet to follow after his old friend. The rookery was only a few steps above in Maester Aemon's old tower, but Jon slept downstairs due to the pleasant hearth and the smell of raven shit lingering above. It made him think of Sam, Maester Aemon and sometimes even Maester Luwin.
"How many?" he asked Edd.
"Three," Edd replied and handed him the scrolls. Jon lit a candle and sat down to read one after another. The replies didn't fill him with confidence. Lady Cerwyn can only promise a few hundred men at most. The leader of the remaining Hornwood men promised to join them "in honor of the murdered Lady Hornwood" and at last young Lady Lyanna Mormont promised another hundred men to help her sister Alysanne. Jon did the calculations and counted three-thousand fighting men, an inkling more than last time, but not enough…
Yet the Mountain Clans remain, though Jon fears their reaction to the Wildling host he means to march through their lands. Last time they took another route as Jon made haste to save his brother, but this time he intended to be more careful…
Thinking of the boy Ramsay Bolton used to lure him on the battlefield never failed to make Jon shudder. Sometimes he dreamed of his smashed body, his pale face staring back at him with empty eyes. Nobody knew his name or where he came from. Thus Jon buried him in Winterfell…
"Lord Snow," Ser Davos's voice snapped him out of his deep thoughts."I apologize for the interruption."
Jon smiled hesitatingly.
"No need, Ser Davos. I was hoping you would come to speak to me," he replied and put the scrolls away. Then he rose to his feet and opened the window. Instantly, a rush of fresh air streamed into the room, but the icy air helped to clear his mind."I need your advice."
"I don't think it is my place…," Ser Davos protested, but Jon shook his head.
"I was thinking about sending and envoy to White Harbor, but I am not sure if it would be much use."
"White Harbor?" Ser Davos asked."You wrote a letter to Lord Manderly, didn't you? Did he refuse to reply?"
"Aye, I did," Jon confirmed."He didn't help us last time…but I hoped…," he continued, but stopped himself when he realized what he was saying.
"That it wouldn't be like last time," Ser Davos ended for him, his grey eyes resting on him in an expectant manner.
"Exactly," Jon repeated and tapped his fingers on the table. He was unsure how to continue this conversation. Ser Davos had avoided speaking with him about the matter at hand, but then the man before him saw more magic than most people."Then you believe me?"
"Belief is a hard word, but seeing how upset Lady Melisandre is makes it hard to deny the truth. First she is wrong about King Stannis and now you came back from the dead, calling her visions nonsense. I think you destroyed her belief."
Jon regretted that. He may not hold much love for the Lady, but he knew that she will be needed for the coming war.
"I was merely stating the truth," he replied and eyed the rug on the floor.
"I spoke to the Lady…she told me that you referred to this resurrection as your second resurrection and that she made you sacrifice someone, but that it failed."
Instantly, Jon felt the urge to send the man on his way. The pain was still too raw, but then he knew that he needed to get accustomed to this new reality.
He took a deep breath and forced the words over his lips.
"I sacrificed my wife," he admitted and lifted his head to meet the older man's gaze."She agreed, but I still have her blood on my hands."
"Your wife?" Ser Davos asked and wrinkled his brows in confusion, realization showing on his face."Gods…that sounds like utter madness."
"It was," he admitted, all the pain and suffering flowing out of him."But we were all dying…it was the last act in a war that had lasted for three whole years…three years dying."
The old man stroked his beard, a serious expression washing over his face. Even in his other life he remained composed to the bitter end. He evacuated thousands of people to Essos, though even they soon learned of the bitter fruits of winter. Food grew scarce and the people of Essos had nothing to spare for the survivors coming from the cursed other side of the world.
"Well, then Lady Melisandre was at least right about something," the old man remarked sarcastically."These three years really sound like nights full of darkness and terror."
Jon gave a bitter laugh, but it felt good to be able to speak openly. Maybe he and the old knight will be able to build a similar friendship like they shared in his past incarnation.
"The darkness was not the worst, but the hunger and the cold. To see people starving to death and mothers killing their own children…even this Ramsay Bolton pales compared to that horror."
"Gods!" the old man cursed."That sounds grim…I am not sure if I am supposed to ask this…How did I perish?"
"Your ship sank," Jon replied, hoping that will make the old man believe him. He had need of confidants.
"My ship?" he asked. He obviously expected something more gory.
For some reason, that amused Jon.
"Not as glorious as expected. You made it your task to ship survivors to Essos and continued with that task until the bitter end. One day you didn't return. We just assumed your ship sank. Gendry was heartbroken."
The man's eyes nearly dropped out of his head, but Jon revealed that information intentionally. Ser Davos was not the most open-hearted man when it came to his past, but Arya was always very thankful that he saved Gendry's life. It was Arya who told him about it.
"Gendry," he muttered and grabbed the table."How do you know about the boy?"
Thinking about his sister's friend made him smile.
"He was a fine friend, brave and strong…a true Baratheon, though only the bastard of a tavern wench as he never failed to remind me."
"Fuck…fuck!" the old man cursed and nearly pushed the candle from the table."Then it is true…it is all true."
Then he stilled and flashed Jon and apologetic look.
"Forgive my cursing, but this is…," he trailed off.
"Unbelievable?"
"Fucking mad," Ser Davos muttered."No wonder you were rambling like a madman. It is a wonder that you are still sane…How do you manage it?"
How, Jon wondered. Why haven't I yet snapped like my mad grandfather?
"Madness would not serve me. I got another chance...I will make use of it," he tried to explain his reasoning.
"I suppose we all have to make the best of it," Ser Davos agreed with him, though his face showed discomfort.
When Jon opened his mouth to reply Edd entered the room in company of Sansa.
"There is a girl at the gates…she demands to speak with Lord Commander Snow," Edd explained and Sansa nodded her head, her red braid bobbing around her shoulder like a snake.
"I don't know, but she is strangely familiar," Sansa added softly as they led him outside.
Said girl sat perched on a haggard horse, her face long and even-shaped. She was quite tall too and very skinny, with the look of a wild colt about her. Her grey-blue eyes showed recognition when she laid eyes on him.
"Lord Commander Snow," she greeted and climbed from her horse. She dipped her head in respect, her skirts and cloak fluttering around her and her dark curls soon covered in snowflakes.
"Alys Karstark," Jon replied and recalled the girl's face frozen in death, her eyes blue as frost.
The girl smiled and nodded her head in confirmation.
"Aye, that is me. I am Alys Karstark, the only daughter of Rickard Karstark, who your brother the Young Wolf executed in Riverrun."
Jon winced at the mention of his brother. His death felt like a lifetime ago…
She seemed to sense his discomfort and smiled apologetically.
"Don't fret about the past, my Lord. I came here to ask for help and not to take revenge for my Lord Father's death. He betrayed his oath and died for it. As I said, I came here to ask for protection."
Jon knew from whom she needed protection, but it was all wrong. She shouldn't be here. She ought to be long married to her cousin Cregan Karstark. But maybe that is a sign that things are changing for the better?
"Jon," Sansa called out to him and touched his shoulder."Maybe we should go inside. It is freezing cold."
"Of course," Jon replied and led the way. He stirred the fire and asked Edd to bring a cup of mulled wine, which Lady Alys eagerly consumed.
"Thank you…I needed that," she replied, an impish grin crossing her lips as she regarded Jon. The Alys Karstark he knew was much colder, but she was also forcefully married to her cousin and this one escaped this fate."I am also surprised that you remember me, Lord Snow."
Jon didn't know about she was talking about, but then his memories were sometimes blurry. Yet he couldn't tell her that and feigned ignorance.
"It is a pleasure to meet you again, my Lady. Against whom are you seeking protection?"
"My Uncle joined hands with the Boltons and wants me to wed his son to stake a claim on the Karstark lands. Well, I have no interest in such a match and stole myself away in the middle of the night. Now I am here and you are the only one who can help me."
But how, Jon wondered for a moment and pondered over the whole dilemma. If he keeps her here they will eventually come to take her back, though he doubted they would able to take the Wall. Ramsay Bolton was sprouting big words, but it would be suicide and he knew from experience that the Bastard of Bolton is no fool. Slowly, an idea began blooming in his head..
After he was name King in the North he intended to arrange marriages between the Free Folk and the North, to bind the two sides stronger together, but the arrival of the White Walkers destroyed all his plans. Most of these marriages didn't concern someone as highborn as Lady Alys, but it was a thought worth considering. It would weaken her Uncle's position if Jon counted his niece among his ranks to dispute his claim.
Yet she would need a strong husband. The first person that came to his mind was Tormund, but he was old and was father to several children. Such a match wouldn't win much favor. No, it needed to be someone younger an unwed…
Then it hit him, a hesitant smile curling on his lips as he regarded the girl.
"You say you don't want to marry your cousin," he remarked hesitatingly."Would you mind wedding someone else? I have someone in mind, but he is a Wildling lord."
Surprisingly, the girl appeared intrigued.
"Wildling lord or not…at least he is not my depraved cousin. I would rather wed a heap of horseshit than him."
"The Magnar of Thenn is not much older than you, my Lady. He is a strong and commands several hundred men. He will be a good husband to you."
"Sounds intriguing," she replied, her wolfish grin plastered on her lips."When will I be wed?"
"You are quite hasty, my Lady," he couldn't help but to remark."But all we would need is a tree...there is a heart tree not far from Castle Black. It can be done tonight."
"If you knew my cousin you would understand my hastiness, my Lord," she replied and smoothed her dirty dress."Tonight suits me just fine, though I suppose this will have to be my wedding dress."
A rumble of laughter escaped him after he heard her words. Arya said something similar on her wedding day...
"That won't be necessary," Sansa provided quickly, a smile curling on her lips."I am sure we can find a better dress for you. A lady weds only once and it should be a happy day."
The smile didn't help to hide his sister's sadness. The Sansa he knew received a dozen of marriage proposal after she was named Lady of the Dreadfort, but she rebuffed everyone of them. Jon never dared to ask her about it, but he always believed it had to do with Ramsay Bolton…
"That would be wonderful," Lady Alys replied, recognition showing on her face."Forgive my surprise…but I didn't recognize you at once, my Lady. How could I be so blind…you are the very image of your late Lady mother."
A tight smile showed on Alys Karstark's lips as she regarded Sansa more closely as if to make sure she is unharmed.
She knows, Jon was sure, but kept his mouth shut.
"It is good to find you here and far away from the Bastard of Bolton. I heard he is a vile creature. I suppose we had the same idea, though I heard you had less luck than me…," Lady Alys added more softly.
Sansa paled a little, but kept her composure.
"Your concern is appreciated, but we should make sure that you look like a proper bride."
"Of course," Lady Alys replied and left with Sansa while Jon went to inform the Magnar of Thenn about his approaching wedding. A task he dreaded.
"Is the girl at least pretty?" the Magnar of Thenn wanted to know. Tormund was not far, snickering in company of the other men.
"She is pretty to look upon, but more importantly…you will be the future Lord of Karhold and her Uncle's position will be weakened. He is one of the traitors supporting the Bastard of Bolton. It is also a step to bridge the distance between the Free Folk and the North. I know it is much, but I am sure Mance would agree with me."
"Very well," the Magnar of Thenn grumbled."I agree."
"Good," Jon replied and felt relief washing over him."Then prepare yourself. It will be done tonight."
"Tonight?"
"Aye, tonight…the girl is rather hasty."
Jon's comment earned him howling laughter from the other men.
"See…your bride is anxious for you to unsheathe your sword, Sigorn!" Tormund added and the other men howled with laughter.
The Magnar of Thenn ignored the all.
"It will be done as you say, Lord Crow."
A thin silver moon stood on the inky sky to watch over the wedding. Sansa was also able to find a dress for the bride. It was grey and suited a practical girl like Alys Karstark.
The ceremony itself was brief and later they had a small feast. Sigorn's men went hunting in the evening and killed several rabbits that were roasted over open fires. There was also plenty of wine and bitter ale served to the guests.
Alys Karstark grinned from ear to the other when one of the wedding guests pulled out a strange lute made of bones and started to play a song for the bride and the groom.
It was a song in the Old Tongue and Val was kind enough to translate the verses for Sansa and Lady Mormont.
Jon should be happy, but he felt a deep melancholy settling over him that he was unable to brush off.
The drunken guests and the smiling bride made him think of his own wedding, before the dawn of battle…
"You look like someone pissed on you, Lord Crow," Val interrupted his thoughts, her hair was open for a change and falling around her face like a curtain of gold.
After his first resurrection Val and he shared a bed and while it had only lasted for a few weeks until the fateful battle against the Bastard of Bolton, he couldn't deny that he he felt affection for her, but then it was much the same with Ygritte. They had a few precious moons and he believed himself in love with her, his heart longing for her wit. Maybe that is why he was infatuated with Val in the first place…she reminded him of Ygritte, only more beautiful. Now he felt only numbness...as if his second resurrection robbed him off his warm feelings for the two girls. Beric once told him that every resurrection takes more from you than the one before...
Daenerys was another matter. He sill loves her, but he has his doubts that this Daenerys will remember him. He will seek her out anyway if he is able to survive the following weeks.
"Jon," Val said more softly and squeezed his shoulder."Are you sick?"
"No," he replied and shook his head, before rising to his feet."I am only tired…I think I will ride back to Castle Black…we will march on the morrow and I need my rest. I trust that you will escort my sister back to the Wall?"
"Aye," she confirmed and gave him a warm smile."But I would rather accompany you. As you said yourself…we will march tomorrow…"
He knew what she meant, but he was no longer this other boy who had crawled into her bed to still the rage caused by the betrayal that cost his life.
"I am tired," he repeated, the smile now gone from her lips and exchanged with a frown.
"What happened to you, Lord Crow?" she asked then, her voice half-drowned out by the howling wind."You are so different from the boy I knew."
She meant the boy that had longingly stared at her, but that boy died a long time ago.
"I don't know," he admitted honestly, a painful smile crossing over his lips as he recalled Maester Aemon's words. Kill the boy and let the man be born."But I am not the same person anymore…you will find someone better than me."
The serious expression taking hold of her face told him that she understood.
"As you say, Lord Crow, but I will miss the boy."
Me too, Jon thought and left them to their merry songs. They deserve it.
When he arrived back at Castle Black Ghost was already waiting for him, his ruby eyes glittering in the candlelight.
The sight filled him reassurance and he knelt down to stroke his head.
"At least you recognize me, don't you, boy?"
The gentle lick on his burned hand told him everything he needed to know. For Ghost it didn't matter if he was resurrected a thousand times, if his name was Jon Snow or Aemon Targaryen, if he was a Prince or a Bastard…
...
Author notes:
ssjmrxi= Yes, Val and Jon will be friends. I put her into the story, because I like her character. She is also important for Mance. She is his sister-in-law and his son exists in this story, though he was not baby-swapped like in the books. He lives with a nursemaid.
iia-ff-2= I will actually post it on Archive of our Own, but I have yet to receive an account confirmation. That will take time.
SkiingKracken= This part was referring to Samwell Tarly's father. Jon was mentioning how Sam told him in a rather sarcastic manner that his father's death by dragonfire was kind compared to their suffering during the Long Night.
fire1= Jon knows about his real father Rhaegar Targaryen and it will be important later in the story. You will see : )
Guest= Littlefinger is pretty much fucked...
In regards to Jon's name: I was pondering several names, even Aegon, but I went with Aemon in the end because I like it better. I think it is fifty-fifty that Jon might have the name Aegon in the books, but I don't have to follow that path. Jon is still Jon though. He will not call himself Aemon. It is more symbolic.
As always, thank you for the comments. Ask questions if you like.
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