6th Month of 300 A.C. Castle Black

King Rickon I Stark

Castle Black had been a veritable well of chaos when they had arrived, it was clear that some sort of battle had happened. There were bodies strewn across the ground and there was blood everywhere. Fearful of the dead coming back to life, Rickon had ordered their bodies burned, and his men had willingly complied. It still surprised him, the power his word had over his men, these were not children, but grown men and yet they followed him. Whether it was because he was some sort of god, or because of the direwolf at his side he did not know, he did not care truth be told. It only served him that they serve him. And so the bodies had burned and others had been tended to, and now Rickon had marshalled those that needed to be marshalled into the hall of Castle Black so that he might speak to them.

He looked out at the hall and felt anger spawn forth within him, these were the fools who had attempted to kill his brother, these were the fools who had tried to endanger the north with their pride and hubris, and they deserved destruction not reprieve. And yet that was what he would give them, for all their sakes. His voice was harsh as he spoke. "Men of the Watch you have failed, you have failed in your duty. You have given way to greed and to corruption. You do not realise that the true enemy, the true enemy who stalks on its legs, those cold legs looking to bring us all to our knees. This is unacceptable."

There was silence for a moment and then a voice sprung out, harsh and clear. "And who are you to tell us what the watch can and cannot do boy? The watch does not get involved in the affairs of the north and you do not get involved with our affairs. That is the way it has always been, why change it now?"

Rickon scans the crowd but cannot find the face to go with the name and says. "Because these are not normal times, there is a threat more pressing than old grudges and tradition. The true reason that the wall and the watch were built is coming toward us at a gathering pace, and there is no reason for us to allow for petty grievances to destroy us before the threat comes."

"Threat? What threat? The threat the bastard says is coming? The threat that none of us have seen? Why should we put ourselves into an accord with our age old rivals because of the word of the bastard?" A man with greying hair and a sharp face asks, from Jon's descriptions of the man, Rickon guesses this might be Ser Allister Thorne.

He feels anger rise then, but fights to keep his voice calm. "The threat you all have seen. Do not try to deny it, you all know that it is coming. Even if you have not seen it, you have felt it. There is nothing more important than preparing for this threat."

There is a murmur at that and a voice calls out. "There is something more important! We are sitting in a hall filled with wildlings and we are not killing them. What in the name of the seven devils is wrong with us? And why have we not strung the bastard up for desertion?"

There is some murmured agreement at that, but overly the hall is quiet, Rickon his anger growing, snarls. "My brother is no traitor, this damned place is filled with traitors. Men who have forgotten their oaths and tried to commit treason when they attacked my brother. He is the Lord Commander of the Watch, and whatever he did, he did for the benefit of the wall."

Shouts of approval echo up at this, and a wildling says. "Tis true, Jon Snow did what he thought was best, we have survived because of him."

A brother of the watch says. "We are more able to understand the threat that is coming because of the Lord Commander."

A chorus of approval comes up from this and Rickon taking heart from it says. "Those who led the attack on the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch are known to me, and as such I have sufficient punishments planned for them."

"You cannot do that! The Watch's affairs are completely separate to those of the other realms!" a voice shouts.

Rickon looks around at the hall and replies his voice filled with contempt. "The Watch has failed numerous times to live up to what is expected of it. It is because of this I as Lord of Winterfell and King of the North have decided to place the Night's Watch under removal and in its place my brother, Prince Jon Stark shall be named Lord of the Wall. The Night's Watch will become an entity sworn to the Lord of the Wall and he to Winterfell as a vassal. From this day forth that is my will and it shall be done."

A cry comes out at this. "This is wrong, so very wrong." One voice shouts, a chorus comes up in agreement.

A louder chorus shouts. "This is what is necessary, but what of us? Do we side with the free folk or what?"

Rickon looks at his brother and then says. "The free folk shall be allowed to settle in the gift and in some of the castles on the wall, provided they swear fealty to me and provide me with men with which to fight the enemies of the north."

"You are not the king of anything yet boy!" a voice shouts. "The Boltons hold your home and your castle, your word has no power here."

Rickon snarls then. "By my word, I order the arrest and seizure of Bowen Marsh, Allister Thorne, Oryck and their associates. Thorne and Oryck are to be put to death, their associates to suffer the same fate, whilst Marsh is to be kept in an ice cell until further time."

There is a great commotion, but the men in question are seized by his own men or by their fellow sworn brothers or wildlings and taken away. Rickon looks at his brother then a smug look on his face. One part of his plan has been completed, now it is time for the next.

Jon Stark

It was still a surprise to him that his brother had legitimised him. It had been agreed upon beforehand and he had been confirmed as his brother's heir should Rickon die without having a child, and yet it still felt odd. He had always wanted to be a Stark and now he was one, and yet there was still a strange taste in his mouth. And now he was Lord of the Wall, something he was not certain of. There had been much commotion in the days and weeks following his brother's pronouncement, many had been quick to swear loyalty to him whilst others had either disappeared or been killed. He did not fail to note that many of the men who swore fealty to him were free folk, there was something there at least.

The main opposition to his new position at the wall in Allister Thorne and Oryck had been killed along with their many allies. His brother had seen to their deaths, swinging his sword, a thing of pure white, glistening in the sun, with strength and purpose. Jon had thought of offering aid once, but had not done so, knowing his brother would want to do this himself. And so they were dead, only Marsh was alive, and that was something that intrigued Jon, he wanted to know why his brother was so interested in speaking to Marsh. It seemed that today he would get to find that out, as his brother and he were standing in front of Marsh's ice cell. The man looked worn down and tired, his skin clung to him like an ill-fitting rag.

"Have you come to sentence me to death?" Marsh rasps, looking between Jon and Rickon.

His brother replies. "No. We have come to speak with you traitor."

Marsh looks confused then. "Speak to me? About what?"

Rickon looks at him then before turning his attention to Marsh. "About your family and its role in all this."

Jon looks at his brother and then Marsh feeling quite confused. Marsh though seems to know what his brother is going on about. "Ah," he says. "So it has come to this, I always thought it would. Though I did not think it would be so soon."

"What are you speaking of?" Jon asks, determined to fully understand what this conversation is about.

"About the Marsh family, which this man comes from. They have played a role in the thing that is to come. I know this much, and I want to know more." Rickon says his voice hard.

"They have played a role in the coming of the white walkers? How?" Jon asks.

"Not the White Walkers Lord Jon," Marsh says rather formally. "The Children. My family as with many families of the neck have strong associations with the children, dating back to the age of heroes. We swore some sort of fealty to them, to ensure that we did not forget the old ways, and in return we would always hold sovereignty over the neck."

"But you do not, the Reeds do and have done for many a millennia." Jon says.

"Aye, that is true. But it was not always the case, when your family began looking beyond the walls of Winterfell, my family still ruled the Neck, but in time we began to run out of power and allies. The Starks were far too powerful and they opposed the old way, in favour of the new. The children tried to help us and they died for it. We were cast down but a curse was put upon the Reeds and your family by the children for years after." Marsh says.

"Curse?" Jon asks sceptically. "What curse?"

"The curse that your line would come to an end, or close enough that others would come to take your place. There would be one who would try to remove all proof of your existence, and he would nearly succeed." Marsh says.

Jon looks at Marsh sceptically and asks. "Who is this man and why does he nearly succeed?"

Marsh looks at him a moment and says. "I do not know his name, but I think it should be fairly obvious considering the state of the north. And he nearly succeeds because of his victories, but falls at the last hurdle to the wolf of the night."

"The Wolf of the Night." Jon hears his brother breathe.

"The Wolf of the Night? Who is this Wolf of the Night?" Jon asks.

"The reason the lord fails to win over the north. He comes with his armies and destroys the lord and his allies. He breaks them down and turns them into ash, ready for when the sacrifice must be made." Marsh says.

"Sacrifice?" Jon asks. "What sacrifice?"

"The darkness is coming Lord Jon, a darkness the like of which this world has not seen in millennia. Death stalks on blue eyes and blue legs, and they will not remain dead for their king is coming. And the only way to destroy them is to give them something they never wanted, one of their own. Someone who can be bled to death and turned from life into death. For death does not like death." Marsh says.

Jon feels his patience grow thin. "You are speaking in riddles old man. Either speak clearly or I will kill you."

"The truth is there for you to see my lord, my king, if you would only look for it. It is there for you to find. You two are our only hope. Without you knowing what needs to be done this world is finished. They shall win." Marsh says.

"They?" Jon asks, "Who are these people or things you speak of?"

His brother is looking intently at Marsh, and Jon feels something like dread pool inside of him. Marsh coughs slightly and says. "Those you have been speaking of for some time my lord. The white walkers, they are coming and in great numbers. They have an ally they did not have before though."

"Who?" Jon and his brother both demand. "Who is their ally?"

Marsh gives a crooked grin then, blooding falling from his mouth. "The three eyed raven and the broken boy, the boy who was once a prince and now is nothing."