Chapter 21

"So, this is Winterfell," asked Ronnel Woods.

"It used to be," Jon muttered as they stood outside the gates.

"It still is, Jon," Osric told him.

"The last time I saw this place, it was full of life. Guards and villagers lined up along the stables and waved from the on top the walls," Jon described his departure. "My father was riding South to serve as Hand of the King. My sister, Sansa, sat on a wagon and waved back at her mother. My brother Robb stood in the yard, wearing a new cloak and a grin befitting a Lord. Nysa sat on a horse not too far in front of me, next to Torrhen Karstark. He had asked for her hand and didn't want her to leave until she knew how he cared for her."

Jon snorted and then shook his head.

"Arya," he sighed. "Arya was riding behind Jory Cassel. She was both excited and cautious about her journey and," he looked towards Osric, "and also mine. I pray we could go back," he confessed.

"No one knows if things would have changed," Ronnel counseled Jon. "Perhaps everyone would have stayed here in the North, perhaps they would have left to go South. There is no sense in dwelling on the past, Jon Snow. All one can do is deal with what is in front of us right now."

Jon nodded in understanding as the men continued into the castle. A few of the guards who had come with Ronnel, lifted their bows and studied the scene, determining if there were any stragglers left behind from the Ironborn's raids. They found none, only dead bodies.

Ronnel stated that he and a few men would venture inside, ahead of Jon, to make sure the castle was free. Jon looked around to see the stables in shambles. He rode his horse towards one of the open gates, peering inside at a frightened mare.

"Ghost," Jon commanded, encouraging Ghost to continue on in the inspection of Winterfell.

He got off of his horse and walked inside, reaching out his gloved hand to calm the mare. His heart ached as her head went back and forth and she entreated farther into the stall. Jon took off his glove and gently raised his hand to the mare. It took some coaxing but she finally came forward. Her hooves beat the floor beneath him and that's when he noticed the ash and oil that coated the ground. Anger bubbled up from deep within at the thought that Theon and whomever he had brought with him had intended to burn the stables and the horses within.

Jon turned his head at another sound and looked over at the charred wood around him. Outside he could hear Osric giving some of his men orders to search out for wounded and keep on the lookout for any Ironborn draining as though he were far from Jon. Within the stalls of his father's horses his ears narrowed in on a small, hurt-filled whimper.

He ducked underneath a fallen beam, groaning as the movement caused him some discomfort. Whoever was hiding in here was rather small. Anxious and praying to the gods that it wasn't a child that the Ironborn harmed in here, he hurried himself, pushing through the remnants of chaos as he found himself in the same stall as a small figure, curled in a ball.

"Leave me alone," the voice cried.

It was that of a young girl. Her voice carrying all the pain that Jon felt. His fists tightened at the thoughts that roared around in his head about how Theon had betrayed them, murdered people in Winterfell and left death and hurt in his wake. He knelt down, peering through her dirty hair.

"Beth," Jon mumbled her name.

She looked up with wide eyes and shook her head in disbelief. "Jon?" He moved towards her but she screamed in agony. "No, you can't be here. They're just playing tricks on me. Theon is playing a trick on me."

"Beth, it's alright. It's me. It's Jon," he raised his hand slowly towards her face as she shrunk back into her corner.

"My father. He killed my father."

"I know. I heard," Jon replied softly.

"He killed Bran and Rickon, hung their bodies at the gate."

Jon shook his head. "We didn't see any body at the gate."

"He killed them, I'm telling you," she shouted, drawing up the hay around her as though it were a protective shield.

"Okay, I believe you," he whispered. "He must have taken the bodies down before he left."

"He didn't leave," Beth shook her head. "I heard the horns outside. He didn't leave!"

"What horns, Beth?"

"The Ironborn," she looked up and began to shrink back once more, wariness and suspicion in her eyes.

Jon turned to look at what she saw. Osric stood there, confused at the young girl as well. He nodded towards Beth as if questioning who she was, if Jon could share her story. Jon turned back to Beth again, trying to coax her out.

"Beth, everything is okay now. Do you hear me? I've brought men from House Glover, House Umber, House Woods and House Forrester. We're going to..."

"No," Beth screamed and wrapped her arms around her drawn-up knees. "My father had soldiers too. House Tallhart, House Karstark and House Hornwood," she listed. "They couldn't stop Theon. They couldn't," she shook her head and looked away.

"I know," he nodded. "And your father is one of the bravest men I know. He taught me how to use a sword. And I'm going to do everything that I can to avenge him, to avenge Winterfell, to bring justice to Theon for his betrayal. Come with me, inside."

She shook her head violently. "I don't want to go back to my room or my father's. Please don't ask me to..."

"Okay, okay," he soothed. "You can go back to Nysa's old room. How would you like the sound of that? You can rest in your cousin's room." Beth looked up and bit her bottom lip, still uncertain. "I'm sure Nysa won't mind it one bit," he tried to smile.

Jon held out his hand one last time and watched as Beth slowly extended her shaky hand towards his.

After seeing that Beth was settled in Nysa's room, Jon left with Osric. One of Ronnel's men had come to find Osric, informing him that they had found a couple more people alive - wounded but alive. He looked at the ruins around him, tables overturned, food left out and curtains ripped apart. He could hear the cries of help, the pleas for mercy from the people he knew in Winterfell. But what struck him the most was that he did not hear his brothers, could not and probably never would hear their voices again.

"Jon!"

He turned his head as a young boy came running towards him. It was Cayn's son. Sometimes he would spot the boy with Nysa. She'd do that often, take in the children of guards who went to assist her Uncle or brother. He patted the young boy's head before settling his hands on the boy's shoulders and easing him back.

"Are you alright?"

An eager bobbing of the boy's head was his answer.

"How many are alive? Are they are other guards here in Winterfell?"

The boy shook his head. "I do not know. We heard horns. I was playing with Tom when Raya told us to hide."

"Beth said something about the horns, too. Do you know what they were?"

Again, the boy shook his head. "The Ironborn were out in the yard. I think they said it was Northmen. But I wasn't sure because there was still screaming and shouting."

"Northmen, were outside," Jon pointed to the window.

"I don't know," the boy pouted before scrunching up his face in frustration. It was obvious he wanted to explain to Jon what had happened but couldn't.

"It's alright," Jon put a hand on his shoulder. "You did what you were told to do. You went and hid."

"These two were with him," Ronnel gestured for his men to bring forth two more little boys.

One of them was TomToo, Fat Tom's son, and Turnip, cook's son. Both boys looked scared as they eyed the men wearily. Seeing Jon put them at ease. But it was obvious that they weren't very trusting.

"Your father," Jon asked Turnip who looked down and shook his head in response. "Take the boys to my room. It's a turn away from Nysa's," he looked to Osric who nodded. "I don't think any of them have ventured outside," he said to Ronnel. "And I want everything cleared before they do," Jon commanded, remembering Beth's sobbing at seeing the dead bodies around the yard.

They filed out, slowly. Cayn's son looked back at Jon, giving him a nod before dashing forward to Osric.

One of the guards from House Umber stepped forward sometime later to inform Jon that the bodies were carried outside and he would make sure that they were buried. A few of the men who were wounded were taken to one of the towers. Jon did not know much on how to tend to wounded men, that was Nysa's job. He sighed and thought about her - thought about her fallen Uncle and her weeping cousin - then prayed that wherever she was and whatever she was doing, she was safe and well.

"Lord Karstark," Nysa spoke up from her chair next to Robb's. Robb turned to look at her in surprise. She had been quiet throughout the entire meeting with his Lords - despite her obvious disagreement with their decisions. "You have been awfully quiet. Do you have any suggestions for us?"

"None that our King may like," Lord Karstark answered sharply.

The corner of Nysa's lips twitched up in a smile and she nodded. "What about our Queen?" Lord Karstark looked up at her and she nodded, urging him to share his opinion. Lady Catelyn sat in from the back of the room and hid a smile on her face. Robb may not approve of Nysa speaking out but it would gain his Lords' respect.

"I received this raven from my wife," he pulled a parchment from his sleeve, "the Ironborn are raiding the North, taking more than just Winterfell."

"She fears for her safety and that of Alys," Nysa nodded. "That is understandable."

"Some of my men have gone down to Torrhen's Square," Lord Karstark added, "along with men from House Manderly, Tallhart and Hornwood," he nodded towards Daryn Hornwood. "But they failed. She received news that the Ironborn had taken them."

"And no news yet of Winterfell," Nysa turned towards Lord Bolton, "I thought we would have received a raven from your son by now."

"The only news I've received from the North is to inform me that Jon Snow has broken his vow and deserted the Wall," Lord Bolton stated.

Lady Catelyn gasped in surprise as this news was delivered. Robb's hand stilled on the table before clenching into a fist. Nysa glanced over towards him and sighed heavily. It was obvious that many of them hadn't known and she wondered how that was possible. Surely, there would have been some raven, some news that would have reached them from the North.

"You don't seem all that much surprised, my Queen," Lord Bolton lifted his brow at Nysa.

"While we being held by the Lannisters," she began, "Jon was the topic of one of their meetings."

"You sat in Lord Tywin Lannister's council meetings," he questioned, looking back towards one of the Frey men. "We were wondering how they got all their information."

"What are you implying, Lord Bolton," Nysa narrowed her eyes at him as a few of the Lords looked back and forth, amongst themselves. "If you are saying that your Queen conspired with Lannister men, then I assure you it might be the last thing you ever say. I do not take kindly to those who accuse me of treason. There was no passing of information. Princess Arya, in disguise, served as a cupbearer to Lord Tywin. And I tended to..."

"That's right," Lord Bolton locked one hand with the other, resting it upon his lap as he turned towards her. "You tended to Lannister men."

Nysa glanced over at Lady Catelyn and saw that this conversation was no longer going in the direction that either of them would have wanted. "Yes, I did. I did what I needed to in order to survive and keep Princess Arya safe. So, I followed the rules of Lord Tywin and cared for the injured. One of them just happened to be Ser Stafford who shared the information that Jon had deserted the Wall. As much as that news shocked me, the Lannisters thought very little of that information."

"And why is that, my Queen," asked Greatjon.

"Because at the same time they received a raven from the Wall, they also received information about Stannis Baratheon sailing towards King's Landing," Nysa answered. "The news of Jon wasn't important at the time."

"Obviously it wasn't important to you either, since you failed to mention it."

"Excuse me, Lord Bolton," Nysa turned towards him.

"Lord Bolton is right," Robb cleared his throat, causing Nysa to look warily at him. "You should have told us about Jon. Instead we had to wait for a raven from the North to inform Lord Bolton while my wife who was tending to Lannister men forgot to mention that little detail?"

Murmurs flooded the room and Lady Catelyn dropped her head. Whatever small piece of respect Nysa had from the Lords was close to slipping from her grasp by that comment made by both Lord Bolton and Robb. Nysa narrowed her eyes at Robb before leaning over. Her voice was soft but angry and she made sure that only he heard her.

"You need me by your side, Robb. Agreeing with Lord Bolton while he discredits your wife is the last thing you want to do, especially to me."

"The truth is either terrible or boring," Lady Sansa told Shae as they continued to look out on the waters.

"Lovely day for it," a voice interrupted them, causing Shae to turn and look. She thought it the knight, King Joffrey's Kingsguard who had somewhat become her Lady's silent protector while she was here. Instead it was a man that she had seen before, a man who looked positively arrogant with that smile of his as he came to stand near her Lady. "For watching the ships," he gestured.

"Lord Baelish," Lady Sansa stated low.

Shae was new to this handmaiden conspiracy but she could hear a cautious tone under her Lady's demeanor. The intruder glanced down at her, still appearing cordial and gentlemanly.

"Might I speak with Lady Sansa, alone," he asked.

Shae wanted to say 'no'. Something about him, about all men here at the Capital, put her on edge. Instead, she had learned a few things and one of them was to do her Lady's bidding. She turned towards Lady Sansa and silently asked her with one look if that is what Sansa would be comfortable with. One small, inconspicuous nod was her answer and Shae politely stood and retreated down the pier.

There was another person standing at the end and she noticed that while both of the Lannister guards who accompanied them everywhere were gone, she also noticed that the Kingsguard was there in their place. She tilted her at the knight before looking at the woman at the end of the pier. She didn't feel like being in the company of anyone just yet, so stopped a few feet away and turned to watch her Lady and the Lord.

"You're her handmaiden."

Shae sighed and turned to look at the beautiful red-head who had approached her. "Yes," she answered before looking back. "And you're his..."

"I help manage his affairs," the woman answered.

"He's an important person."

"So is she," she replied. "I grew up in the shadow of her father's castle. The day she was born, they rang the bells from sunrise to sunset."

Shae considered this information for a while, she knew that Sansa was important somehow - why else would they be keeping her here? She was about to ask the woman a question, when she continued.

"We've both done well, you and I."

There was an underlying tone, one that instantly made Shae wonder. "Yes?"

"Given where we've started," the woman finished, causing Shae to look at her.

"And where is that?"

The woman didn't look the least bit bothered. "It isn't easy for girls like us, to dig our way out." They were quiet for a moment before both women noticed that the Lord had begun retreating. "Watch out for her."

"I always do."

"Watch out for her with him," she rephrased.

Shae understood the meaning then. It was obvious that the uncomfortable feeling she had earlier was not something to be taken lightly. Tyrion might think her suspicious, especially when it came to another Lord. She couldn't play at the same games that he had, apparently. But she had grown to like Sansa - as naive as she had been. The young woman need protection.

"Are there other men I should be cautious of?"

"What do you mean?"

"Regarding my lady," Shae said quickly as the Lord began to walk closer to them. "What can you tell me about a knight?"

"A knight," she lifted an eyebrow.

"He's one of the Kingsguard but he's taken an interest in Lady Sansa. They share some sort of secret. Something that she won't even tell me. He stands behind us at this very moment. I..."

The red-haired woman put her hand on Shae's. "I'll find out if he's a friend or foe."

"By asking him," Shae nodded towards Lord Baelish.

"Seven hells, no," she smiled. "I have other friends."

Ravens started to fly into the tower of Winterfell. Alysane Mormont had given a couple ravens to both Lady Glover and to Jon. Harmund Umber had rode through the wolfswood and up towards Last Hearth to send out a raven as well, informing his brother Greatjon of what was happening so that they could get news to their King. They all had some silent agreement that they would leave Jon's fate up to Robb. Watching the ravens up in the tower helped Jon to come to an understanding about his desertion from the Wall.

He was as good as dead the moment he left Castle Black. He knew that ravens were sent out about his desertion. Robb would have received news by now, he thought. Lady Glover's words still echoed in his mind.

"Do you really believe that, Jon," Lady Glover asked, "that your father would gladly execute you, his own son?"

Anxiety and guilt piled on top of one another as Jon sat there, thinking about his father. He was the Lord of Winterfell, head of House Stark and the Warden of the North. He was considered honorable and just by all that he had met. But what Jon had done, was the complete opposite of being honorable. He wouldn't deserve his father's mercy. Now, he would face the King's justice.

A raven squawked, drawing his attention up to the top of the tower. Any moment soon a raven would appear from the Westerlands or Riverlands - wherever it was that Robb was at right now - and they would inform Osric, Harmund, Alysane or even Lady Glover what was to be done with him. He had abandoned his post, broken his vow.

"It was done with the best intentions, wasn't it?"

Jon's head turned sharply to his right and he saw Nysa sitting there next to him. Blinking rapidly, she disappeared. Like a mad man, Jon stuck out his hand and began to swipe the air, wondering where she had gone to. His head looked out again at the sound of Nysa's laughter and that's when he spotted her standing by the tower, leaning against it with a soft smile.

"People will judge you by your actions, Jon. Not by your intentions," Nysa told him.

Jon paced back and forth. "I know, I know. But I thought that if I announced my intention to wed her, then it would be alright."

"Jon, it was a kiss. Her honor was hardly ever in question with a simple kiss," Nysa shook her head.

"I don't even know what came over me."

"Bandy is a pretty girl but we both know that neither she or you are in desire of marriage, especially at thirteen," Nysa grabbed him hand and pulled him away from the stables. "I still can't believe that you walked into the hall informed your father that you dishonored her."

Jon smiled at the memory of the two of them walking away from Winterfell to hide in the wolfswood. He had innocently kissed Joseth's daughter, believing that he compromised her. And because there was no way he was leaving a young maiden alone, he announced that he'd wed her immediately. Of course, when asked the reason, Jon stated plainly that he had taken her honor. At first the men in the hall, including his father, simply stared at him in bewilderment until Joseth had lunged for Jon in anger. After much discussion, his father had gathered that the two of them had shared a kiss. Jon was young and believed that he had taken her honor. He didn't know.

Of course, it still didn't sit well with Joseth and he had Maester Luwin along with Lady Catelyn assure that the girl's innocence was still intact. She may not have been a high-born but he didn't want Lord Stark's son taking advantage of his daughters. Lord Stark was a just man, a better man, he had said in the hall that day. Surely, Jon wouldn't have used his status as Lord Stark's son to dishonor unsuspecting maidens.

His father had questioned him about it - and though it seemed silly now to remember this story - his father had laughed and slapped Jon on the back.

"You had good intentions, my son," his father said, "but your approach on the matter was disastrous."

He had the very best intentions at heart when he left the Wall - he wanted to avenge his father, protect his sisters, help his brother. "So they will not love. Love is the death of duty." Maester Aemon knew, could see it. That despite taking his vow, despite having a duty to be a brother of the Night's Watch, he still loved his family, he loved them with everything in him. But would this good intention have a disastrous result? Would he meet the end of his life at the hands of his brother?

Another squawk caught his attention up in the tower.

One of the ravens had come early this morning from Lady Glover, informing him that Yara Greyjoy was demanding proof that her brother was alive. Theon was nowhere to be found. As far as Jon knew, the coward had run.

One thought still haunted him, the horns that the boys as well as Beth had spoken about. Where were they from? Who was blowing them? The wildlings hadn't come this far, had they? Had Wildlings driven Theon out of Winterfell?

"Jon," Osric called.

Jon turned his head towards him.

"One of the scouts from House Forrester said there was someone traveling on the Kingsroad from the South."

"Men that our King have sent, perhaps," Jon questioned.

He shook his head. "They say their father sent them," Osric replied.

"Their father," Jon repeated before pushing away from the bench and walking towards the front gates.

"Ser Stevron," Nysa dropped into a curtsy at the sight of him.

"My Queen, there is no need to be so formal with me," he smiled before gesturing for her to stand.

"I suppose I'm an old creature of habit," she smiled and looked shamefully away from him.

"There are many words to describe the sort of beautiful, kind creature that you are, but old certainly isn't one of them," he offered his arm in a silent request. Nysa slipped her hand under and lightly grabbed a hold of his elbow. "We haven't had much time to talk since your marriage to the King."

Nysa sighed. "Yes, well it seems that the King either wishes for me to sit silently by his side during council meetings or I rather just stay out of his way." She shook her head at her outspoken character before continuing. "I must apologize, Ser Stevron, for my behavior. It is most unbecoming."

"One is able to discern why you are frustrated. Yesterday's meeting could have gone better than anticipated," he nodded in understanding.

"A simple question lead to a most heated topic."

"Is there a reason why you kept quiet on your husband's brother's desertion?"

"Honestly, I assumed that he already knew. The King is plagued with many distressing situations and I thought that his brother was one of them."

Ser Stevron nodded. "He does have many concerns, that much is true. Any King who isn't concerned about those in his House, under his care, or the Lords who fight for him is hardly a King at all. He fights battles and the men love to see a warrior who will fight for them, protect them. It brings us glory."

"It does," she agreed before pausing and tilting her head at him. "There seems to be a statement that you want to make with me, Ser."

"My Queen, I wish to speak frankly with you."

"Go on," she replied.

"Your husband is hardly a commander outside of the battlefield. He needs to learn how to rule over his people. Perhaps if his Queen were able to teach him that, it might ease the stress."

"You're siding with me? After all that happened?"

"Why does that surprise you?"

Nysa paused in their walking and turned to face him. "You asked to be forward, then I'll be frank with you as well, Ser Stevron. There is much talk - especially since the wedding. I only have five other Lords who currently hold me in high regard. My opinion among the King's Lords is slipping and I had hoped to rebuild that at yesterday's meeting."

"By withholding information," he questioned.

"By assuming this command that you imply is out of the King's grasp," Nysa answered. "I have already been informed that the men will look to him in battle. As to other regards, I know that I need to learn to take the initiative. But I can't do that when half of them are questioning my every move." She studied him for a moment. "And now here are you willing to supply what I so desperately need as a Queen. Your speech at my wedding was obviously done so that you could show loyalty to your King. And you're saying that you'll do more for him, after he dishonored House Frey?"

Ser Stevron nodded in confirmation.

"You will excuse me if I seem confused at our graciousness."

He chuckled. "I am thankful that you saved my life. I am grateful that you assisted in protecting my brothers and I from the Lannisters. I meant every word that I stated when I offered my cup forth at your wedding. But, none of that was done without a price, my Queen."

"I don't know whether to be grateful of your honesty or not," Nysa looked away. "You admitted that your loyalty isn't truly founded."

"I assure you, I will be loyal to my King. But I cannot guarantee that others..."

"Will see things the same as you do," Nysa concluded.

"Exactly. And to ensure further provocation, perhaps the King will need his Queen to step forward. As I stated earlier, he commands the men in battle. But as regards learning how to rule over them..."

"I understand, Ser Stevron," she nodded before gesturing for the two of them to sit at a nearby stone ledge. The knight may have been healed but he was still up in years and Nysa had no intention of putting his life in danger once again. "What is it that you wish for me to do?"

"Again, I need to remind you that my House will do what they want. I am not their Lord. They seek my father's approval. And I can only do so much to assuage all of House Frey. But I will be your champion, defend you at all council meetings," Ser Stevron reminded her. "I will gather as much of the other Lords together as possible. I believe you have a kind heart and will take everyone into consideration. But as you mentioned, you need support. I will do all that I can."

Nysa nodded. "What is it that you need?"

Ser Stevron looked away and pointed to a banner hanging high. "That is a banner from House Royce, my mother's House."

"From the Vale," Nysa stated as he moved his head to answer. "I thought that Lady Arryn doesn't support Robb. He said that his Aunt..."

"There are men from House Redfort, House Waynwood and House Templeton who support Lord Royce in fighting for your husband."

Nysa shook her head. "They'd hardly go against House Arryn. I'm sure Lady Lysa..."

"They understand that this fight is against House Lannister," Ser Stevron began. "But House Lannister is strong and rich, there aren't many who surpass House Lannister."

"I don't understand what this has to do with me."

"I heard that your mother comes from a great House," he whispered as she looked towards him with shock.

"There's no way to know for sure where my mother..."

"Your Lord Uncle," he pressed.

"How do you know of this?"

Ser Stevron moved his hand towards the other banners there, showing her House Manderly, House Umber and House Bolton. "Whispers from the Northmen tell me that there are gifts that come to you - come to the North - during your name-day. They gathered information that your Lord Uncle would no doubt pay a handsome price to whomever you wed."

Gifts were never in short supply during her name-day and she knew - Jory knew and Ser Rodrik knew as well - that majority of the Lords were willing to wed their nephews, second-born sons or younger or widowed brothers to Nysa in order to obtain said gifts.

"You want my Lord Uncle to give you something," Nysa questioned.

"It would benefit you really," he said. "You'd gain the support of many." He leaned closer and whispered. "From what I hear, there is talk of bringing the Vale into House Lannister's fold."

"The Vale would fight for House Lannister," she questioned. "But Robb is kin, Lady Arryn's nephew."

"It is only whispers that have been heard," he clarified. "But I'm sure that you know Lord Tywin will want to ensure majority of the Kingdoms fight for his grandson. The Vale has not yet pledge their fealty to King Joffrey. Whatever means they hope to do it with, you have to be certain to play on the same field as Tywin Lannister, my Queen. The soldiers fight on the field. The Hand of the King will fight by other means."

Nysa cast her eyes back towards the banners, men who could help Robb, men who would support her. "A bold move, my Lord, and admirable. But is it wise to yank the lion's tail? Tywin Lannister is the richest man in the Seven Kingdoms. Gold will win wars, not soldiers." Lord Baelish's warning to Lord Stark, echoed in her head. Yes, this war was against House Lannister. It was House Lannister that held Sansa captive. It was House Lannister that took away Torrhen and crippled Bran. And Lord Tywin was the head of that House.

"Gold will win wars," she whispered before turning towards Ser Stevron, still uncertain if her Lord Uncle would help her by such means.

How would she get in contact with him? She always gave her letters to Lord Stark and he was the one who sent correspondence between the pair. Perhaps she could go to Lady Catelyn. She shook her head, hearing Gendry's words about her conduct towards her mother-by-law. Sighing, Nysa made the decision in her heart. She had listened to Lady Catelyn's advice so far and would continue to do so. Surely Lady Carey would honor this request to write her Lord Uncle.

"How much do you want, Ser Stevron?"

"I have not had the pleasure of meeting your father," Jon stated.

"Yes," the young girl who had a bow slung across her shoulder, "well, my father rarely leaves the Greywater Watch. Although he has spoken a lot about Lord Eddard Stark. He is greatly saddened that he was unable to follow your brother down South. He has sent my brother and I here, to see what it is that we can do to help the North and House Stark."

"How is it that you came to know Jon would be here," questioned Osric.

"We saw," she paused and then turned towards her brother. "More like my brother sees things, has dreams. He saw your father's death. He saw your brothers."

"You saw my father and my brothers die?"

"No," she shook her head. "He saw your father's death in a dream," she paused, trying to find the right words. "Your brothers..."

"I saw two wolves who were searching in the wolfswood," her brother stepped forward. "Your direwolves, you are bonded to them in a special way, Jon. As my sister, Meera has mentioned, I am able to have dreams, see things in my dreams. I can see things that happened in the past, things that are happening right now thousands of miles away and things that will happen."

"So, you were able to see my father get murdered and yet did nothing to stop it?"

"You misunderstood," he clarified. "I saw it as it was happening." Jon looked over at Osric before turning back to the young man in front of him. "The things I see, come to me in my dreams. I follow them to where it points me. Your brother and I met in one of those dreams."

"You met the dead," Jon asked.

"He is far from dead, I assure you."

"How can we believe you," Osric took a step towards him as Meera got into a protective stance in front of her brother. He paused and took a deep sigh. "You tell us that you see things but we have evidence that," he paused, "the word of our own soldiers say that the boys' bodies were hung on the gates. They know what they saw!"

Instead of answering Osric, he looked at Jon. "Have you ever seen what Ghost sees?"

Jon narrowed his eyes at Jojen Reed. He had seen himself pacing in front of the Lord Commander's room, scratching and growling at the door. He shook himself awake, feeling a chill in the air he never felt before. When he had gone outside, Ghost was already there at Commander Jeor's rooms. He was able to save the Lord Commander's life that night. He received Longclaw later on for protecting Commander Jeor.

"Only once," he stated, "I thought it was just..."

"A dream," Jojen finished. "You can warg, probably not as strong yet but the ability is there. Your brother Brandon can do the same."

Jon shook his head. How was it that not long after he returns to Winterfell a boy and girl from one of his father's bannermen arrive to tell him that Bran and Rickon were still alive? And the only reason he had for this was because they believed he had a dream? Because they believed that he could see things in his dream? Jon had nightmares of his father's death, not dreams.

"I understand that this is confusing. But Brandon is in need of help."

"I was told that my brothers were..."

"Dead, I know," Jojen nodded.

"There were young children here - the only ones that were left alive and they informed me that they saw my brother's bodies hanging outside, above Winterfell's gates."

"What they saw were not bodies of your brothers. It was just a ruse to have the people here believe that they are dead. I'm telling you that they are not. I know you don't believe me. You may think I am mad. But I will tell you this," he stepped around his sister and closer to Jon. "The day I dreamt of your father's death, I told my father. That was the first day I saw him weep. He mourned for your father because he believed what I saw. He knew it to be true, Jon. He knew it to be true, even before we received word from the South."

Ronnel Woods moved to stand next to Jon, his back facing Jojen and Meera. "I was born and raised in those woods. You were raised to hunt, fish and play in those woods. We would have seen them on our way here if that is the case."

Osric came to stand by him as well. "And whose bodies were on display here in Winterfell? And if it is just a ruse, then how did your brothers escape Winterfell? One of your brothers can barely walk."

Jon sighed and shook his head. "I don't know what to make of it."

"Then there's this nonsense about dreams," Ronnel stated. "The Gods gave him this gift or is he cursed by them?"

"The story seems far-fetched, I agree. But we have to consider that his father was one of your father's most loyal bannermen," Osric argued. "Lord Reed considered your father to be a close friend. I'm sure you've heard the stories."

"I have," Jon answered. "Does that mean I blindly trust him that Bran and Rickon are still alive?"

"It means whatever you want it to mean," Jojen answered as the the three young men turned around to look at him. "My father never told me about the Rebellion, a promise he made to House Stark and a promise he'll keep until the Gods take him from this world. Like my father before me, I serve House Stark. If you want me to not search for Brandon, then I won't. It is you who will decide, Jon."