Careen lay awake most of the night, watching Jon sleep and keeping an eye on Ghost. It was obvious to her that Jon had a connection with his direwolf. Her mind won't let her rest as she pondered if Jon was like Bran. She eased out of bed, making sure not to wake her husband or disturb Ghost on the floor.

After putting on a gown, sliding on some shoes and tossing on her cloak, she made her way down to Bran's room. She rapped lightly on the door, asking in a whisper if Bran was awake.

"Come in," Bran answered her back, his words laced with sleep. She opened the door, finding Bran sitting up in the bed as he let out a big yawn.

"I'm so sorry to wake you, but I have something I need to talk to you about," she gathered the chair by the window and pulled it over to Bran's bed.

Bran asked her to place another log as he lit the candle beside the bed. She stoked the fire, filling the room with heat and light. She sat, noticing how intently Bran was staring back at her.

"Is this about Jon?" he asked as he reached for her hand. She let him take it, watching as the greensight took him over. The energy of his site pushed into her, waking her Divine power. For the first time in a long time, she could see the energy, the pure white that flashed before her eyes that was followed by a heat that washed over her. He was locked into a vision of something strong, something taking him back to a time when all of Westeros was new. The power coursing from Bran to her beat as steady as her own heart. She could feel his emotions, his happiness, his sadness and even his fear.

The white of her vision turned to a deep red, the heat intensifying to the point of making her sweat. She concentrated on the red, seeking it out until she saw what it really was. She was looking at Ghost, his eyes locked on hers. Her hand involuntarily pulled back from Bran's, leaving her feeling as if all the air had been sucked out of the room.

Bran came back to himself, his vision showing him what Careen was looking for. She looked back at him, her hand resting on her heaving chest. "Breathe, Careen. Look at me… breathe."

She did as Bran asked, using the calmness of his words to find her center. "What did you see?" she asked, breathing a little easier.

"Jon is very special, Careen… more than you know. The very first Stark was a Warg and there has been Wargs in every generation. I went back to Brandon the Builder and he was a Warg that used the Giants beyond The Wall to help build it. My father never spoke of this power, never said he or his siblings could do it, but I know it was in them to do so. It came to me through dreams and I think it's coming to Jon the same way. Ghost and Jon share a bond that saved his life," Bran licked his parched lips, watching Careen as she finally understood what Bran was getting at.

"You mean… that night at Castle Black? Did he tell you?" she rose to her feet, pacing by the fireplace while she considered what Bran was telling her.

"I know because I saw it when I touched you. You know the truth and you were marked by those words. You love him so much that his pain is your pain. But the truth is, the Red Lady didn't bring Jon back, he was never really gone. His body had failed him but his spirit was alive and well… in Ghost. She restored his soul to his body, but that was all. The magic that lives inside Jon is as old as the magic inside me.," Bran could tell Careen was lost, her eyes narrowing as she tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

There was no doubt magic was alive in Westeros again. The Old Gods gave the gift of the Divine to her as well as making Bran not only a Warg but the Three-eyed Raven. Magic also existed in the form of blood magic that was practiced by the Red Priestess, but there was another kind of magic that the Valyrians harnessed a long time ago – Dragons. No matter what Gods you serviced, their gifts and the magic that came with them was irrefutable.

"You're not making any sense, Bran. Jon was dead, he felt the dagger go into his heart. He bled out on the snow, his heart stopped beating. Melisandre said she knew of a man that brought someone back from the dead and she used that ritual, that magic to bring him back. I felt the icy hand of death upon him when he told me about it. Jon isn't a Warg, he's not like you," she moved the chair, sitting on the edge of the bed with him.

"He doesn't know he can, but he can do that and so much more. I have something I need to tell you, something that can't leave this room. Jon can't know… not yet. You have to promise to keep it a secret," Bran pushed himself closer to Careen, needing to look her right in the eyes.

Careen wasn't sure she could lie to her husband or at the very least, keep a secret that involved him. From the look on Bran's face, this wasn't just any secret, this was something monumental. She told herself she'd do this, keep this secret, but only if Bran promised to tell Jon and soon.

"I will keep your secret, but you must promise me two things. If Jon comes to the knowledge of this secret, you will tell him the truth and if he doesn't not, you must tell him before the truth can be used to hurt him. A lie in a marriage is like a wound that is left to fester, it will kill it from the inside. If you can live with my terms, I can keep your secret," she smiled when Bran nodded his head and prepared herself to lock away a truth from the man she vowed to love.

Bran sat quietly for a moment, collecting his thoughts. This could very well be more than Careen could handle, more than she was prepared to hear. It would not only affect Jon and herself, but the child she carried.

"I saw the day my father fought Ser Arthur Dayne. He was at the Tower of Joy, sent there to bring his sister Lyanna home. Rhaegar Targaryen had abducted her, raped her and left her for dead, or so the story goes. But I know the truth, Careen. My Aunt Lyanna was in the that tower and my father did battle and defeat The Sword of the Morning, but my Aunt wasn't there by force. She was there to give birth to her child, to Rhaegar's son. I don't know if she loved him, but I do know she pleaded with my father to take her son, keep him safe from Robert Baratheon. She made him promise her, those were her last words as she lay dying on a bed of blood… Promise me Ned, promise me. My father took her son and brought him back to Winterfell. Jon isn't Ned Starks bastard, but the heir to the Iron Throne. Part Targaryen… part Stark." Bran rested back against the headboard, his heart suddenly feeling unburden.

"Of fire and ice, now I understand," she could feel all warmth leave the room, her face as cold as ice skimming over a pond. "My child is a… Targaryen?"

There was a great war to come, one that would take the fire from the South to destroy the ice from the North. She rose from the bed, her feet carrying her out of the East Wing and out to the Godswood. The morning was still early, the sun still slumbered in the sky as she let the moonlight guide her to the heart tree where she hoped to gain some comfort for the numbness that grew in her heart.

The Godswood was alive with energy. It welcomed her, wrapping around her like a mother embracing her child. She walked until she came to the heart tree, knelt before it and placed her hand on the bark.

The connection she shared with the Old Gods felt like lightening had struck her and was bringing to life powers she didn't know she possessed. Careen pulled her palms from the tree, landing on her back from the violent shock.

"Careen," Jon's soft voiced called out to her as he rushed to help her up. "What are you doing out here this late at night?"

She gripped his hand and felt the power that was lying dormant inside him. It wasn't like anything she'd felt before. Jon had a quiet storm brewing inside him, a firestorm that was kept in check by the wintry chill of the frost in his veins.

"I couldn't sleep," she answered him back, wondering if now was the time to tell him about Ghost.

"Do you need to see Maester Wendull," Jon wrapped an arm around her, feeling how cold she was. "You're freezing, Careen. How long have you been out here?"

"Not long. I was talking to Bran before I came out here," she saw the concern on his face and the spark of curiosity in his eyes. "I need to tell you something."

Jon stopped, taking her face in his hands and stared back at the deep blue of her sapphire eyes. "What's wrong, wife?

"Not here, I'll tell you when we get back to our room," she was still suspicious of those she didn't know. She had felt a dark presence in Winterfell since she arrived and even after Lord Baelish had departed, it still lingered there.

They hurried back to their bed chamber, Jon's mind racing with the possible things Careen could tell him. As soon as the door was closed, Jon sat on the bed and took Careen's hand. She sat beside him, feeling the rapid beating of his heart. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Her heart was beating just as hard as she tried to find the right words to explain what needed to be said. Jon could tell this wasn't something trivial or her hand wouldn't be trembling. "I felt something odd in Ghost. I was petting him while you were sleeping, lying here in your arms. I tried to wake you, but you were so deeply asleep, you won't wake. I can't explain it, my love, but your energy, I've felt it so many times I know it by heart and..."

"Go on," Jon said as he kissed her soft lips. She hesitated once more, praying this wouldn't change him, wouldn't change them.

"I felt you in Ghost. I could have sworn I saw a little bit of you in his eyes," the look on Jon's face made her heart sink in her chest. She held tight to his hand, watching as he looked back at his direwolf.

"I have strange dreams, ones that I wake from and fell off... different. Is this why you went to see Bran?" Jon reached his hand out to the white wolf by his side. He stroked the fur on his back, listening to the soft pant the wolf made.

"Yes and I think you need to talk to him. Bran can help you understand this, help you use your gift," Careen placed her hand on his scruffy cheek, turning his face to her. She leaned over, placed her lips to his, kissing him so passionately they both sighed.

She kept her hands on his face, their foreheads touching as his hand now cupped the back of her head. "I'll go talk to Bran in the morning. You need your rest."

She gave him a devious grin, her mind set on having her way with him. She shook her head as she leaned back on the bed, her body quivering as his hands moved down her sides and his lips left a blazing trail of heat from her lips to her cleavage. She would sleep, but not before she had another taste of the man she so dearly loved.

~.~

Jon was already gone when she woke, her naked body stretching under the fur blanket. She tossed her legs over the side when she heard Meera's voice on the other side of her door.

"Your Grace, are you awake?" Meera had a gentleness to her that was disguised by her bold and relentless nature.

Careen came to admire and respect her as they traveled back to Winterfell. She could tell Meera would protect Bran with her life and the stories she told her about the wights and White Walkers could scare even the bravest of souls. Bran was so afraid to cross The Wall again, but Meera convinced him to let Ser Davos take them back the way they came, through the Nightfort.

"I'm awake, Meera," Careen slipped on the gown that Jon had almost ripped off her body, holding the laces at the back as she sat.

Meera entered with a young girl, about fourteen with dark brown hair and soft grey eyes. They girl looked like she'd been well cared for and her timid behavior reminded Careen of a young doe in the wild. "This is Ella, she's from House Mormont. Lady Lyanna wishes her to stay on at Winterfell as your lady's maid. Both of her parents were killed at the Battle of Winterfell and she has no other family."

"Thank you Lady Reed. Ella, welcome to Winterfell," the young girl bowed and went right to her duties. She had obviously been trained to be a lady in waiting, and she was rather good at it. Careen let her go about her work and tried to make small talk with her, but she said little as she helped her dress. Meera asked Careen to join her for breakfast, needing to have a heart to heart with her friend.

They walked arm in arm to the Great Hall with Ella behind them. Careen was used to Lily and the bond of their friendship, not the servitude this girl thought she was under. Careen looked around the hall for any sign of her husband until Meera told her he and Bran had gone out for a ride early this morning.

Sansa was busy with Lady Lyanna, arranging a visit from the noble ladies of the North. There was much to attend to and Careen knew as Queen, she would be called upon to do her part. She sent Ella to tell Lady Stark and Lady Mormont she wished to see them later this afternoon. Politics weren't her forte, but for Jon and the betterment of House Stark, she'd play the game.

As she and Meera ate their meal, Maester Wendull approached with a Raven in hand. He gave the message to Careen, only to have Killian walk up behind her and take it from her. She reached for it, but Killian held it up above her reach and chuckled rather loudly.

"Guest are coming, your grace," Killian continued to read as Careen glared back at him.

"You're a real ass, you know that?" she turned from him, ignoring his teasing. Meera snuck up behind Killian and took the message from him. Killian looked back with a crooked grin, swiping a piece of bacon from his sister's plate.

"Lord Robyn of Eyrie is coming with his Uncle Petyr Baelish to meet with the King and Queen in the North. The Lord of the Vale wishes to declare for House Stark and requested Lady Sansa's hand in marriage," Meera handed the message to Careen and eyed Killian as she sat down.

There was an ominous feeling coming from the parchment, a tingle that made her shiver all over. "That's not all they want. I need to speak to Jon as soon as he's back with Bran. Killian, gather Davos, Tormund and Ryder. I'll talk to Sansa and we'll meet in the Great Room."

"Yes... my Queen," Killian backed out of the room, bowing with a playful grin as he did so.

"I don't think Lady Sansa will marry Lord Robyn," Meera sat back in her chair with a faraway look in her eyes. Careen couldn't help but think her friend was thinking about a certain young Lord herself.

"Sansa isn't in any hurry to marry again. I don't care if she is smitten with my brother, she's very happy being Lady of Winterfell. Besides, Killian is ten years her senior," the words had barely left her lips when Sansa walked in with Lady Lyanna by her side.

The four ladies spent the rest of the morning talking about meeting with the Ladies of the North and the visit from the Lord of the Vale. Sansa was quick to say she wasn't interested in marrying Lord Robyn or anyone for that matter. Lady Lyanna agreed that a Northern woman didn't need a man to be a leader. Careen thought to herself, she'd change her mind once puberty visited her.

As the four of them, with Ella in tow, left the Great Hall, they saw Jon riding up to the stables with Bran. Careen excused herself from her company, telling Ella to stay with Meera until she called for her. Jon and Bran were laughing when she entered the stable, the smile on both their faces nearly bringing Careen to tears. She missed seeing her husband smile like that, laugh like that and she hoped there would be more days like this.

"Careen, come see what I found," Bran sounded so excited, his brown eyes alive with wonder.

She hurried over to him, reaching the message to her husband. Jon took it, but his eyes were glued to his brother and his bride. Careen watched as the stable boy, Allan, helped Bran from his horse and set him on a stool by the stall. Bran pointed to his saddlebag, his smile so wide it covered his face.

Tormund walked in, scratching his beard and looking confused. "You need me, Jon Snow?"

"I - I found something in the Wolfswood and need to know if you think it's from the Haunted Forest," Jon had this look of anticipation on his face as Allan pulled a small wolf cub from the bag.

Tormund took the cub and looked it over before handing to Jon. "This is a direwolf cub. Where did you find it?"

Bran started to talk, his words coming out in one long sentence. "It was in a rotten log close to Ironrath."

The cub looked like it was barely alive. It was covered in mud and blood, her ribs starting to show. Careen took the wolf from her husband, cradling the poor thing in her arms and sent Allan for some soft food.

"You told me direwolves were plenty in the Haunted Forest, beyond the Wall. Do you think it came from there?" Jon had ignored the message as he watched his wife care for the little wolf.

Careen carefully washed the wolf off with a bucket of water by the stable door. The wolf had a vibrant red fur all but its tail, which had a black tip. She sat on the stable floor, resting the wolf in her lap as she stroked its side until Allan returned with a plate of shredded mutton.

Jon was in awe of his beauty, watching how she sat on the dirty stable floor and cared for the wild little beast. Most ladies would think doing such would be beneath them, but his Queen was far more than a noble lady, she was the heart of the North.

The cub began to move, her head moving as Careen placed tiny bits of the meat in her mouth. When the wolf cub opened its eyes, Careen gasped and Tormund's face lit up.

"I'll be a son of a goat... there hasn't been a Fire Wolf in the North for hundreds of years. The First Men that lived beyond The Wall had packs of the red wolves. These beasts had fur of fire and eyes of ice and were loyal to only their master. Jon, if a Fire Wolf has found its way here, the Wall has failed," Tormund looked back at the ice blue eyes of the wolf, his hand stroking his long red beard.

"I need to send a Raven to Castle Black," Jon and Tormund hurried out of the stable, Jon shouting for someone to find Maester Wendull.

"Bran," Careen could feel the power in the cub as well as the extreme cold, hunger and near death the animal had experienced.

Bran had Allan help him over to Careen, the wolf starting to be more active. "It's my fault, Careen. The Wall... I could tell there was something wrong as soon as I crossed over. I could feel death nipping at me the closer we got to the gates of Castle Black and I couldn't do that to the Night's Watch. Davos and Tormund came out through the long tunnel to take Meera and me to the Nightfort. I don't know why, but I felt if I retraced my steps back, the Night King's curse wouldn't follow me."

"Curse? What are you talking about, Bran?" Careen felt all the blood rush from her face when she saw the brand of a large hand on Bran's forearm.

The mark of the damned and dying was there on Bran's arm for all to see. Careen could feel the magic, the dark magic radiated from that mark. It was too much for her to be near, the feeling making her nauseous. She gathered the little wolf in her arms and quickly rose to her feet, scurrying to the other side of the stable.

"I... I didn't know," Bran's eyes filled with tears as Careen fought to keep her breakfast down. She slowly walked over to him when Meera came in with Ella not far behind.

Meera tossed her arms around Bran as his held her back. They had been out there and knew all too well what was coming for the land of the living. "Bran, it's alright... I've got you now."

Careen knew it wasn't alright, it was far from alright. The pain in her heart that joined with the nausea in the pit of her stomach told her that things would never be alright again.

Y'all are the best. Thanks for the reviews and follows. I look forward to your reviews and hope you continue to read and enjoy. So many things happened in this chapter that I can't wait for you to read what's coming next.