Bran sighed as he lowered himself down in the steaming bath, closing his eyes as the hot water enveloped his skin.

Leaning back, as he rested his hands on the sides of the iron tub.

After a few moments, Bran opened his eyes and nodded to his valet, "You may go."

The older man laid a towel on a nearby chair, then bowed and left Bran's presence.

When he heard the doors to his chambers close and was sure the servant had left him, Bran took in a deep breath, let go of the sides of the tub and allowed himself fall back and become fully submerged in the water.

# # # # # # # #

"Sansa!" Jorah Mormont cried, calling through the smoke that filled the upper hall of Winterfell, his face, clothing and sword covered in blood and ash, "Sansa!"

Suddenly, the heavy door to Jon and Sansa's chambers opened and the lock beam that had been barring it from intruders flew out into the hallway.

Maester Garrod soon followed, coughing as the smoke, billowing through the passage, filled his lungs and the light from the flames that already engulfed the lower levels of the castle, danced along the north stairwell behind Jorah.

The Maester shielded his eyes and his nose as he looked both ways, and when he realized that the hallway was clear of Lannister soldiers, nodded to Ser Jorah.

"We're here!" he called out, then turned back toward the threshold and reached out for Sansa.

Maester Garrod brought the blanket covering her shoulders over the top of her head to shield her from the smoke and flames, then leaned over and placed her arm around his neck, letting her put her weight on him as he led her from the room, still dressed in her shift and robe, still pale and tired from having just given birth.

"Hold on to me, My Lady…" the Maester encouraged as they moved steadily down the hall toward Jorah.

"Ser Jorah…" Sansa smirked as Jorah came into view through the smoke, the relief on his face evident when he saw her safe

Jorah smirked back as he sheathed his sword, "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better…" Sansa replied, then grimaced as she held her stomach

Jorah then turned to the Maester, "The north stairwell is gone, but if we can make it to the end of the hall, there is a secret passage that will take us to the underground tunnels. Ser Davos told me about it. It will allow safe passage out toward the crypts. He and the Lords have already herded anyone trapped or left behind there. He will meet us."

Sansa nodded as she coughed, bringing the corner of the blanket to cover her mouth with her free hand, as they continued to move with Jorah keeping constant vigilance to make sure the coast was clear.

As they moved closer and closer to the end of the hall, Sansa lowered the blanket slowly from her face as the smoke began to clear near the open window ahead and she saw the body of her husband lying crumpled on the floor in a large pool of blood.

"No…." Sansa gasped, her face crumbling, then screamed, "No!"

She quickly broke free of Maester Garrod and lurched forward, still holding her stomach as the blanket fell from her shoulders and the old maester tried to reach for her.

"My Lady!"

"Jon!" she cried, her eyes filling with tears as she stumbled, her legs still weak, and fell to her knees at her husband's side, blood on the floor instantly soaking through the bottom of her night shift.

"Gods…no! Please…no…" she whispered as her eyes raked over the many stab wounds to her husband's chest and she took her husband's ashen face into her hands and looked down into it, "Please…"

Maester Garrod quickly came to Jon's side and placed a hand on Jon's arm, feeling for signs of life.

When he realized there was no pulse and Jon's body was already turning cold in the rising heat, he turned to Sansa, "My Lady," he urged, his hand finding her shoulder, trying to hide his own emotions, "I'm sorry….There is nothing we can do. He's already gone."

Sansa's sobs grew louder as she lowered her face to her husband's and laid his forehead against his then kissed his cold lips.

"Blood of my blood...Born of Fire and Ice...Don't leave me," she whispered, "Come back to me..."

Maester Garrod suddenly coughed and placed a hand on Sansa's shoulder, "My Lady, Please….We must not linger…"

Sansa's face crumbled again as she shook her head, unwilling to leave her husband in their collapsing home.

Suddenly, a familiar voice sounded behind them, "Born a bastard… the fire now consumes a Targaryen…how circumstances have changed for Jon Snow."

Sansa, Jorah and the maester turned toward the voice and Jorah quickly reached to draw his sword from his side, but Jamie Lannister was quicker as he brought his own sword to the old knight's throat.

"Easy, Mormont…" Ser Jamie said, "My fight isn't with you. I've come for something else…"

Then his eyes moved from Jorah down to Sansa, "Where is your child, Lady Sansa?"

Sansa's eyes narrowed as she studied Jamie's face, then she quickly turned to Jon lying on the floor in front of her.

Soon, she realized that her son wasn't in the hands of the Lannisters—they had no clue where Benjen was—but he wasn't with Jon, either.

Jon must have spirited him away somehow before his death.

"He got away…" Sansa whispered in realization, closing her eyes as a tear ran down her cheek in relief, then turned back to Jamie Lannister and raised her voice in defiance as she struggled to come to her knees, the old Maester holding her arms, "Even if I knew, you think that I would ever tell you?!"

"Do not play with me!" Jamie replied, his face filled with anger at her words then said in a measured tone, "I have lost everything that ever meant anything to me because of the Targaryens! I will not lose my chance for this last vengeance—"

"Unfortunately, I think that time has passed," Sansa interjected haughtily, then glanced at her husband, "You have killed the last of the Targaryens. Your vengeance is done—"

"It's never done!" Jamie practically screamed, stepping closer and holding his sword higher to Jorah's throat, but keeping his eyes menacingly on Sansa, "Now tell me where the child is!"

Sansa's nostrils flared as she leaned forward and her eyes narrowed, "Not…Here."

Suddenly, Brianne of Tarth emerged from the smoke and towered behind Jamie Lannister for mere seconds before she hit him hard in the back of the head with the hilt of her sword.

Jorah's quick reflexes allowed him to grab Jamie's wrist and pull his enemy's sword away from his neck as Jamie fell unconscious to the floor.

"What are you all still doing here?" Brianne chided then coughed into her arm.

Suddenly, she saw Jon's body lying in front of Sansa in the distance, "Gods…"

She immediately lowered her arm and met Sansa's grief –stricken eyes, "My Lady… I—"

"Right!" Jorah suddenly interjected, quickly moving between the two women toward Sansa and the Maester, "Time to go!"

"No!" Sansa protested as Jorah lifted her into his arms and she tried in vain to free herself and return to her husband's side, "We can't leave him! No!"

Brianne watched the Maester lead the way ahead of Ser Jorah toward the crypt passage before her eyes looked down and moved from Ser Jamie to Jon Snow –enemies now lying side by side in one of the oldest castles in the Seven Kingdoms.

It was clear that Jon was gone, his body already showing signs of death…

Brianne raised her gaze again as she saw the passage door open from the inside, behind a large floor to ceiling painting of Bran The Builder, and Ser Davos Seaworth waive to Jorah and Maester Garrod.

"Ser Davos!" Jorah cried in relief to the man through the smoke

"I waited ages, but didn't see anyone. I came to see what had happened…" he said as he took in the sight of the small party and said, "Where is Jon?"

Brianne's eyes moved back down toward the two men lying on the stones in the hallway.

The sound of fire was fast approaching and she had to decide.

She looked up and saw the passage door open and Ser Davos calling her name through the smoke, "Lady Brianne!"

Brianne coughed again as she sheathed her sword…her eyes looking upon the old man waiving her toward the safety of the passage, then leaned down and placed her hands under Ser Jamie Lannister's arms and lifted him just enough to drag him with her.

# # # # # # # # # # #

"You left without our King?!" Ser Davos cried, turning toward Jorah as he laid a weeping Sansa gently on the blanket Maester Garrod had placed upon the ground when they reached the crypts under Winterfell.

Lord Manderlay chimed in, "Gods! He deserved better—"

"There was no time. We had to leave him…." Jorah responded, his face grief-stricken as he looked to the small crowd in the room—most of them lords of the North, a handful of soldiers, castle servants and villagers that were unable to flee the keep in time, "I very much regret that he had to return to his ancestors that way."

Davos turned from him and immediately went over to Sansa, "My Lady—"

"Where is my son?" Sansa asked, her blue eyes bright and brimmed with tears

"Lady Arya rode away from Winterfell with him, My Lady," one of the guards reported, "He is safe—on his way to the Twins."

Sansa sighed in relief then nodded solemnly, "Thank You…"

She then turned toward Maester Garrod and Ser Jorah, "Thank you both….I apologize—"

"Your husband was a great man, My Lady," Jorah interjected with sad eyes, resting his hand on his sword at his hip, "and a good one. It's a rare combination. Loving such a man so much you are unwilling to leave his side, is nothing to apologize for, nor is chastising those who would leave him behind…" Then he sighed, "The unfortunate reality is that the North needs a Stark to lead them—I had to make sure no harm would come to you. Forgive me."

A tear streaked down Sansa's right cheek as she smirked and nodded to Ser Jorah as she whispered her mother's words, "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell."

# # # # # #

It was nearing dawn, long after the soldiers had left the rubble of Winterfell, that the Maester descended the steps down into the crypt and touched a sleeping Jorah on the shoulder.

When the old knight came to, Maester Garrod whispered, "They are gone. The road is clear."

Jorah nodded as he wiped the sleep from his eyes, then watched as the old maester walked forward and kneeled down next to Sansa, preparing an herb mixture for her to ingest.

After a moment, he gently roused her and he and Ser Davos helped her sit up on the blanket where she had fallen asleep crying.

Jorah looked over to Brianne, who had kept watch all night.

She sat with a shackled, still unconscious, Jamie Lannister at her side.

Jorah knew that everyone judged Brianne for not taking Jon instead of Jamie, but he knew in his heart that they would get more Jamie's living body, than Jon's dead one.

Around them, rose the low chatter of people slowly awakening and preparing for the evacuation of the crypt.

Suddenly, there was a loud noise and everyone's eyes moved toward the back of the crypt.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs descending from the castle passage as everyone grew deathly silent.

Jorah immediately stood and moved to protect Sansa, drawing his sword as he stood in front of her and the maester.

Soon, a figure appeared in the torch light and it seemed as though all the air was immediately sucked out of the room.

"Mother of…" Ser Davos whispered, his eyes growing as big as saucers

It was Jon.

Murmurs instantly broke out in the crowd and the Northern lords quickly clamored to the front to witness what was happening.

His clothes had been burned away and he was covered in ash and burns that seemed to be healing and dissolving right before their very eyes…

But, it was Jon.

"Jon?" Sansa whispered in disbelief as she struggled to her feet without the help of the maester or Ser Davos who could only stand there in awe of what they were seeing.

Jorah's eyes filled with tears and he slowly lowered his sword as Sansa passed him, her eyes locking with Jon's as she stumbled toward him.

After a moment, he immediately rushed forward to meet her halfway and she fell into his arms.

He pulled her up and held her against him in a tight embrace, then kissed her.

"You're real…" she whispered, pulling back when he released her lips, a small smile crossing her face and tears welling in her eyes as she looking her husband over, "It's you…You came back to me."

"I did…" Jon replied, then held his wife close to him again, his eyes closing in relief, "I heard you."

Suddenly, Jon felt a blanket come around his naked shoulders and looked over to see Ser Davos at his side.

"All Hail, Eamonn of the Houses Stark and Targaryen!" Davos said in a loud, resonating tone, turning toward the small crowd, his eyes filled with wonder, joy and disbelief, "Born of ice and fire! King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men! Lord of the Seven Kingdoms!"

Davos then bowed his head and fell to his knees before Jon, "Long may he reign!"

Soon, Jorah followed suit, holding out his sword in allegiance as he came to one knee and bowed solemnly, "Long may he reign."

"Long may he reign!" the Lords said in unison, unsheathing their swords, one by one, and laying them upon the ground in allegiance as they fell to one knee before Jon and Sansa

Jon's eyes widened as he and Sansa turned and watched as the crowd followed suit, immediately falling to their knees in silent awe of and allegiance to the heir to the Iron Throne.

# # # # # # #

Strong arms suddenly pulled Bran up and out of the freezing cold bath water as he gasped for air.

When his vision cleared, Bran saw Jon leaning over the tub above him.

Within moments, Jon had brought Bran to the heat of his bare chest as Maester Garrod rushed forward and checked Bran's vital signs.

Maester Garrod received two towels from a nearby servant and handed one to Jon, while he took the other and the two men briskly ran the towels over Bran's body to get his circulation going again.