Jon

The wine made him sway from one side to the other. He tried to find out were up and down were, by orienting himself with the help of the tower. Unfortunately it was the drunkard's tower. With a splash he fell into the mud of Moat Cailin. There he stayed. He did not have the power to stand back up. First Rickon, then Anna and Arya, now Sansa. He had sworn to his father that he would protect his siblings against any threat that would come to them. What good was a protector who kept on failing? He wished he had been there, wished he could have died protecting them. Instead here he was in the middle of an army.
He crawled back out of the mud. Found his wine. Kept drinking. He wasn't the only one. The camp was full of murmurs. With the Lord imprisoned and all but one child in the hands of the enemy, what good was it to go to war? The Greatjon had proposed to send ravens to Winterfell demanding that Jon be legitimized. Boltons, Glovers and many more had agreed. The Karstarks had already gotten up to leave in protest when Jon had spoken up. He had asked Jon Umber wether he liked the idea of being beheaded as traitor. A commotion had broken out, with Umbers drawing their swords, Manderlys, Boltons and Mormonts answering them. Jon had raised his arms to calm them down. Then he again addressed the Greatjon. Yes, he was a son of Eddard Stark. But he was also the sworn shield of his siblings. Sworn to protect tehm from any harm. How could he protect them, when he at the same time was stealing their birthright? Any man who proposed making him Eddard's heir, while Eddard still lived was a traitor in his and his father's eyes.
"Damn boy really is Ned's son, through and through." Lord Umber had laughed. And with that matters were settled. But unrest still reigned in the camp. They had no figurehead to rally around. They had a boy Lord who commanded through his bastard brother. They did not know what would come. They had an enemy at their back and in front of them. But most of all they were tired of waiting. Waiting for the war to break out or pass by. It was the waiting that destroyed them.
Jon kept walking through the mud, searched for a place to be alone. He threw up into a and suddenly had an idea. He kept walking along the shore until he was far away from all the lights. On and on he walked until he was all alone. That is until he saw a figure through the fog. In the distance near the sat a girl on a trunk. In her hand she held a wine bottle identical to Jon's.
He sat down next to her.
"You can not stand the lights too, huh?" Meera did not even look up.
Jon shook his head.
She barked a laugh. "It's weird, huh? Here two people who want to be alone walk into the darkness only to find the only other person, who is going through the same torment."
Jon could not help but join in. Meera took a sip from her bottle, but to her disappointment found it empty.
"Here take mine."Jon passed it to her. For a moment their fingers touched.
"Thanks." She took a mouthful. "I need this. To silent that voice. That voice in my head that keeps telling me that it is not my fault. The voice called reason." She cheered to the swamp as anger entered her voice. "But what does reason know? I should have known it. He is always just trouble. He always gets into trouble. He was never alone." She sobbed. Jon took the bottle from her hand and took a sip.
"Had we just gone with them." He said. "We would have worked something out." He threw the empty bottle into the water, where it made a short splashing sound.
She giggled again. "Just look at us. Getting so worked up about our little siblings." She yawned and fell on his chest. "They are tough little bastards. They will be just fine by themselves."
Jon, startled by being closer to a girl, who was not his sister then ever before, could just reply: "Yeah."
He felt even more awkward when Meera started to hug him. Suddenly her face was very close to his. He could feel her breath on his lips when she said: "You know what, Jon Snow? Your siblings are pretty lucky to have you." Jon had kissed girls before. Not many. One or two. But never had he felt like this. It was different. As their hands started to roam each others bodies every fiber of Jon's body screamed at him to stop. It screamed, when he took of her shirt. It screamed when they lay down in the grass. It screamed when he entered her. But as Meera had said: The voice of reason had been silenced.