Author's Note:

I had a look at this yesterday to see when I last updated, as I knew it had been a while – didn't realise it had been nearly a month, though! So sorry guys, work has been a bit crazy over the last few weeks, but I promise there will be more updates coming from now on :)

As a little reminder, Dannard had gone off on a rangers' mission, Jon and Eily (finally) kissed, both admitted their feelings (just not to each other!), and Ser Alliser returned after a Wildling attack, without Dann *sad face*.

Hope you enjoy the next instalment!

Chapter 14 – The Truth Teller

Eilya

The morning came. Gilly left the sleeping quarters, taking little Sam with her, to start on her duties. Eilya sensed her friend pause as she opened the door, and she stood for a moment or two, before the closing it quietly behind her.

Eilya didn't stir, but she wasn't sleeping. She had barely slept at all, stealing only a few short naps, where she dreamt of Dannard alone in the snow, calling out her name, trying to run from a nearing army of bitter, twisted Wildling folk. She woke up before the dream went any further, but it didn't stop another wave of tears and sadness engulfing her as her heart broke that little bit more.

Eilya sat up and kicked away the pile of blankets she had been wrapped in. Pushing a curl out of her eyes, she let out a slow, shaky breath. She stood slowly and pulled her sheepskin fleece tightly around her body, before starting for the door. Stepping out into the hall, she began to walk. She didn't really know where she was going, but she didn't want to stay hidden away in Gilly's and Sam's sleeping quarters all day. She needed to clear her mind, and she had always found that walking helped – even if she was confined to the walls of Castle Black.

The dining hall was empty, Eilya noted, as she reached the ground floor. She wandered slowly inside, running her fingers along a cold, wooden table as she headed for a window on the far side of the room. There were voices in the courtyard, and Eilya could see the figures of hundreds of men stood, heads bowed, before an effigy wearing a ranger's uniform. Ser Alliser was talking, Eilya couldn't work out exactly what he was saying from behind the thick glass, but he held a burning torch, which he finally lit the effigy with, to which every man replied with 'And now their watch has ended.'

A lump formed in Eilya's throat and she let out a small sob as a single tear ran down her pale cheek. In the space of a few weeks, she had lost everything she had ever known. Her father, her home, and now her beloved brother… she was alone. Jon had been completely right, she had lost everything, and the winter was barely upon them yet.

Eilya's eyes flicked to the other side of the effigy, where Jon stood, Sam beside him, their eyes fixed on the flames. Jon looked white, his face completely drained of all emotion. His posture was limp, lacking all the power and authority he had conveyed before.

For a moment, Eilya tried to hate him, with all her heart, she tried to blame him for Dannard's death, for trusting the Wildlings and for sending his men on a death mission when he himself stayed within the safety of the Castle Walls.

But she couldn't. Jon wasn't a coward, or an idiot. His actions hadn't been spiteful or stupid, he had only done what he had thought was best for his men and for the civilisation beyond the Wall. It wasn't his fault that two peasants had ventured to the Wall, that one of them had proved himself enough to be made into a ranger. After everything Jon had done for herself and her brother, Eilya couldn't bring herself to hate him now.

The flames engulfed the effigy as the dark smoke rose into the freezing morning air. The worst was yet to come, that was a fact. But at least Dannard wouldn't have to die at the hands of the undead. Eilya placed a hand on the cold glass and she stared into the sky, her brother's smiling face etched into her mind, and she sobbed once again as another tear chased the last, her heart aching as she forced herself to accept the terrible fact that she would never see that smiling face again.

And now his watch is ended.

Jon

Lord Commander Snow,

It is with my sincerest gratitude that I agree to meet with you in order to discuss your obligations to myself and the army of the One True King. We shall be headed to Castle Black in due course.

S

Jon scowled, throwing the piece of parchment onto his desk as he sat back in his chair. It was in Stannis' nature to be arrogant, but it was something that Jon didn't need today. Standing, he looked out of his window. Smoke still hung faintly in the air above the training ground from the effigy burnt earlier that morning. The remains had since been cleared and soldiers had commenced training once again, but there didn't seem to be much go in any of them. Jon frowned as some fought half-heartedly, others stood in small groups talking. Each and every one of them looked either miserable or scared. Jon didn't blame them. That was exactly how he was feeling too.

Returning to his desk, he sighed angrily. How could the Wildlings have turned against them so badly? What had happened to Tormund? Jon still refused to believe that he could have betrayed him, so had he been overruled? Killed? Did he know of the attack? Jon hated that he would now never know the answers to any of those questions.

There was a knock at the oak door and Sam entered the office. He was holding a tray bearing bread and cheese. Jon felt sick at the sight of it.

'What is it, Sam?' he asked wearily.

'You have to eat, Jon. Or you'll get ill. The last thing the Watch needs is the Lord Commander popping his clogs.' Jon rolled his eyes, but finally obliged, taking a bite of the bread. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten, and realised he was hungrier than he had thought. 'Also, Ser Alliser wanted me to pass on a message. About the attack.' Jon paused, looking to Sam to continue. Sam coughed awkwardly. 'Well, he said that, because some of the men have died, that you should probably send out a search to… you know, burn the bodies.'

Jon felt sick again, and put the bread down. He knew this was coming, he just didn't want to have to deal with it yet. The thought of Dannard and the other men were still deeply set in his brain, as was the futile hope that they weren't dead, that they might still return.

That thought was ridiculous. And if Jon should take anything from the last day, it was that hope was no longer an option, despite what he had told his men only the morning before. Jon looked to Sam once more, nodding slowly.

'Tell him to send three rangers out to The Fist, and another three to follow behind, as look-outs. They have four days, if none return, then we will send out others to search for them.'

'Can you not tell him? I really don't think Thorne would take it from m-'

'Tell him I've ordered you, Sam. If it's what he wants to hear, he won't care who it comes from,' Jon demanded wearily, rubbing his eyes. Sam shot him an uneasy look, but obliged, turning towards the door before Jon stopped him. 'Sam, have you seen… Is she okay?'

Sam smiled sadly. 'Eilya's been sat in the library with me all morning, she hasn't said much, I think she just wants some company. And she asked me to ask you if it was alright that she didn't do her chores today. Although she will if you want her to.'

Jon smiled in mild amusement. 'I don't expect her to ever do chores again, after everything I'm responsible for.' He paused. 'Look out for her, Sam. Make sure she doesn't leave or do anything… stupid. I couldn't live with myself if something happens to her, too.'

Sam frowned. 'She doesn't blame you, Jon. You should really talk to her-'

Jon stood, ignoring Sam's suggestion. 'Pass the message onto Ser Alliser – he's right, we should send a search party out sooner rather than later.' Sam hovered on the other side of the desk, obviously wondering whether to leave or stay and continue his attempt of persuading Jon to talk, but Jon dismissed him again. 'Now, Sam.'

Jon picked up a piece of parchment and pretended to start reading it, to signal that they were done. To his relief, Sam gave up and left the room. Frowning, Jon stared blankly at Stannis' writing, his eyes fixated on the word 'obligations'. Deep down, he knew Sam was right. But how could he possibly talk to Eilya? What could he say that would make the situation better? It wasn't as if their last encounter had ended on particularly good terms anyway, when he had practically driven her from his office with his sudden coldness after kissing her, and now that her brother was dead, and all he had done was hold her while she sobbed into his chest… He hadn't even had the courage to tell her straight that Dannard was gone. Even as Lord Commander, he couldn't do anything to rectify that.

In mid-thought, there was suddenly another knock at the oak door, which began to open slowly with a creak. Jon sighed. 'Sam, I thought I'd made it quite clear that I-' But it wasn't Sam. Ed's head appeared around the door, staring at Jon nervously.

'Are you alone?' he asked. He sounded urgent.

Jon nodded quickly. 'Ed, what-'

But Ed just shook his head. 'Make sure no one else comes in, not yet.'

And he disappeared. Jon opened his mouth, about to go after him, but someone else stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. Jon stopped in his tracks, stunned by the familiar face before him.

'My Lord,' said Dannard Canann. 'Can I have a moment of your time?'

Jon sat in his chair as Dannard sat across the desk from him, devouring the bread and cheese that Sam had brought from the kitchens. Jon didn't mind in the slightest, and he couldn't help but stare at the young man as he ate. Dannard was alive. But Ser Alliser had told him… had he not realised? Had Dannard escaped? How had he survived? He couldn't wait any longer for the answers.

'What happened? You were attacked, we all thought you were…' Dannard swallowed the last of his meal and pushed the tray away. Looking at Jon, his blue eyes glinted. They were like Eilya's, which suddenly made Jon feel a little uneasy.

'It's a bit of a story, My Lord-'

'Jon.' Jon waved his hand at the formality.

'Oh… Jon.' Dannard looked slightly taken aback. 'Well, it's a bit of a story.' Jon nodded urgently for him to continue. 'We arrived at The Fist on the sixth night. We knew we were being watched, Ser Alliser warned us early on that there were Wildlings about, and that we should be keeping our guard up, because…' Dannard paused.

'Because?' Jon prompted.

'Ser Alliser told us that you didn't know what you were doing, and that the Wildlings weren't to be trusted.' Jon tensed, gripping his chair handles tightly. 'But I told him he was being too cautious, that they were just watching out for us now they're on our side.'

Jon's heart sunk. 'And they attacked you that night.' His voice sounded hollow, even to him.

'Not exactly,' said Dannard. Jon stared at him, confused. 'Three Wildling women approached us just before nightfall. They told us that they were there on business and didn't want to fight. Ser Alliser and a couple of the others told them to leave, but they said that they needed us to deliver a message back to you.'

'And then what?'

'Things turned nasty.' Dannard grimaced, but continued. 'A couple of the rangers attacked the women and tried to… they tried to rape them.' Jon's blood ran cold. 'Ser Alliser told them that, if they didn't leave, he wouldn't be responsible for the men's actions.' Jon felt his anger levels rise suddenly. He had trusted Thorne. 'The women were screaming and a few Wildling men came rushing over the hill. They had axes and clubs. They threatened us, a couple of us tried to reason with them, but the others started attacking them. I managed to convince the women to take cover, so they wouldn't be hurt, and they followed me to a clearing in the forest away from the fighting. They didn't trust me at first, but I couldn't leave them there on their own… We stayed there until morning. When we went back to The Fist, the Wildling men and three of the rangers were dead. Two of the others and Ser Alliser were gone. The women told me that they did have a message for you, from their leader.'

'Tormund,' said Jon slowly, and Dannard nodded.

'They even took me to him. The Wildlings have set up a temporary camp at the base of the closest mountain to the Wall. Some of the families have left, they don't agree with joining forces with the Night's Watch, but there was still a good few hundred left, that I saw.'

'What did Tormund say?' Jon pressed, leaning forward in his chair.

'He wants to arrange a meeting, at day break in three days' time. He said that the children aren't safe, that they should be given every opportunity to survive, even if others refuse to pass the Wall. If they stay in the free lands, they won't stand a chance. He wants the children to pass the Wall, so they can stay and live in the villages around Castle Black.' Jon sat back in his chair, taking in Tormund's request. Dannard fidgeted slightly. 'Jon, the Wildlings aren't bad people, are they.'

Jon smiled crookedly at Dannard. He felt a sudden warmth towards him. He was someone who was on his side. 'No, Dann, they're not.'

'Can we help them?'

'Yes, we can.'

The group of six rangers headed out into the free land soon after supper, armed with dragon glass weapons, clubs and tools for burning the corpses. Jon explained the whereabouts of the bodies and reinforced the time scale, encouraging them to return as fast as they possibly could.

However, Jon decided that it was best to avoid Alliser Thorne. His First Ranger has betrayed his orders, lied to him, and adandoned his mission. Jon should have him executed for his disloyalty… and yet, he couldn't convince himself that this was the best option. Ser Alliser was an excellent trainer, soldier and ranger. Without him, Jon really would be alone as Lord Commander, and he wasn't sure how many of his more advanced, senior men would react to the killing of the ex-Lord Commander. This was going to be something that Jon would have to address carefully, but tonight wasn't the night to do it. It could wait.

For now, Jon had a more pressing issue. After discussing the plan in-depth with Dannard, as well as swearing him to secrecy until Jon said otherwise, he knew that there was another person who would be just as relieved – if not more so – as he was to see Dannard alive. Guiding him through the castle halls, to the library on the ground floor, Jon pushed open the door to see Sam reading at the table, who looked up when Jon and Dannard entered. His eyes widened, but Jon quickly raised a finger to his lips as Dannard crossed the room to the fireplace, where Eilya's limp body sat wrapped in a thick blanket in the armchair, facing the dancing fire as she dozed soundlessly. Jon watched as Dannard kneeled down before her, waking her gently from her slumber, and she muttered something which turned into a sob as the siblings embraced.

Giving Sam a crooked smile, Jon left the library without a word, his mind at peace with itself, if only for tonight, at least.