The Conspiracy of Ice and Fire

by aspirantwriter

What if the three members of the Kingsguard who stayed at the Tower of Joy knew of Ned Stark's search for his sister, were able to meet him in secret and concoct a plan to keep the new-born King safe until he could reclaim his rightful throne? While Jon (Aegon Targaryen) grows up to be King, a small group secretly prepares Westeros for a Targaryen restoration. (Jon/Daenerys)

33. When the smoke clears

Chapter 33: When the smoke clears

Summary:
The aftermath of the battle.

Notes:
Warning: war, violence, character deaths .
Ravenousreadr once more did her best to clean up my errors and I am very grateful to her.

Thanks to the guest(s) that have been leaving all these reviews. I'll go back and make the necessary corrections. Thanks again.
I am using my creative license (it being an alternative universe) once more to explain that Willas Tyrell is younger in my universe than in canon and if necessary, Myrcella is a tiny bit older and in these medieval times girls marry young. That way my story can go ahead as planned

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Chapter text:

Jon stumbled off his dragon when he returned to the encampment. By all appearances he had not been gone that long. From high up he had spotted small groups of men still checking the lake and surrounding areas. They all had torches in hand and were setting fire to every single carcass they could find. He petted Rhaegal and felt the dragon's exhaustion flow through him. The dragon was lying with his head down in the exact same spot where he had touched down. Never before had Jon seen his dragons settle down in a pool of mud. They always looked for a dry spot preferably one that provided some shelter from the weather, especially so when they were this far north. Jon had never experienced Rhaegal to be this lethargic.

Viserion had landed a bit further away and was nuzzling a dead horse, probably making sure it was a fresh kill. Jon presumed the dragon was satisfied with his findings since he roasted it and started to feast on the flesh before the flames had completely died down. Rhaegal didn't even lift his head to check out where the enticing smell came from. Growing even more worried, Jon limped toward the spot where the charred meat was lying and tried to drag a half devoured part of the horse's hindquarters closer to Rhaegal. Viserion sensing Jon's worry for his sibling nudged the dragonrider aside and shoved the roasted horse in its entirety in the direction of his brother's head. Then he sauntered off and soon found another casualty of war in the form of a beautiful black stallion.

Satisfied that Rhaegal had been taken care of and Viserion had found another prey, Jon limped in the direction of the tents. Ghost came running up, his white fur covered in mud and filth. No red blood though. The enemy had none. Jon's mind was too tired to dwell much on what exactly was the stinking substance that had gotten stuck in his wolf's pelt. He fell to his knees and scratched Ghost behind his ears happy to see him unharmed.

Sandor was the first to reach Jon and helped him get to his feet again. "Your leg is bleeding like warm piss. That stupid bandage is soaked through. Let's get you to a fucking healer, boy."

Jon was grateful to accept the bigger man's help. Now that Sandor had brought it to his attention, the wound had started to bother him for real. He shivered when he remembered the exact moment the White Walker's ice sword had cut his thigh and how he had been expecting to die when the next blow from that weapon had been about to pierce his heart.

Grateful for Sandor's silent nature he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as they walked in the direction of the provisional shelter where they were treating the more severely wounded. He kept most of his weight of his right leg while he hobbled. Nevertheless, the red stain on his breeches and makeshift bandage was growing larger. He reckoned the wound had started to bleed more profusely when he jumped off Rhaegal's back. His dragon hadn't lowered his wing to assist Jon, so he had just slid down the dragon's flank and had touched the ground rather forcibly. It certainly would do no harm to have a healer look at his thigh.

"Is Ygritte all right?" Jon asked Sandor when he had gathered his wits again.

"She is. She boasts she killed more wights than I did. My woman might have the right of it. She always shot two arrows simultaneously. You should have seen the speed with which she had a new set of arrows nocked each time." Sandor beamed proudly.

"I'm glad she is all right, Sandor. How come you are here with me instead of, you know?" Jon did his best to focus on the conversation and not on the pain in his leg.

"She volunteered to burn carcasses and ordered me to hurry to your side when she saw the dragons come back. A real mind reader, my red minx. She gathered I would not be at ease until I knew you were okay."

"Thanks, Sandor. It is nice to know I can count on you." Jon increased the pressure on Sandor's arm slightly to lend extra weight to his words.

"Not only on me. Every Free Folk I encountered wanted to be reassured that you were okay. You should hear the tales they are telling. They grow bigger all the time. According to the last one I overheard, the Dragonrider practically slayed half the enemy's army on his own with his magical sword while on the ground even though he had to climb mountains of dead carcasses to do it. The other half was set afire by your dragons for which they also give you credit. Don't know what the fuck we were all doing on the battle field by that account." Sandor chuckled.

"Like you said, it is only a tale that grows wilder with the retelling. Just wait until they see me limp. They'll understand that I bleed the same as them all and am just a frail human of flesh and blood."

Sandor grunted to convey his disbelief. Stepping aside to avoid a small pool of mud, he stumbled into Ghost and almost lost his balance.

"Your wolf stinks like shit, boy." Sandor covered his misstep with this rude declaration. "I wouldn't be surprised if they could fucking smell him as far as Winterfell. Isn't it enough that the entire environment smells of stinking rotting carcasses and charred meat? Better order him away soon. Your wolf sure as hell won't be welcome in the healer's quarters. Free Folk healers are fucking keen on keeping their work area clean."

Jon stopped and studied Ghost. The white direwolf whined quietly. He came closer and rubbed his head against Jon's unharmed leg.

"Ghost, go bathe please. I'm safe and you can come back as soon as we are both cleaned up somewhat." Jon looked at Ghost's sad red eyes and petted the top of his head not minding the dirt. "Sandor's right. You smell something awful. You know I normally like your scent but surely your own nose must be telling you that you reek?"

Ghost nuzzled Jon's hand and moaned quietly once more.

"Sandor will keep me safe. Besides, the sooner you bathe, the sooner I can give you a big hug." Jon encouraged his direwolf.

Ghost took one last look at Jon being supported by Clegane's strong shoulder and ran off in the direction of the beach. He ignored the melted parts of the lake where the smell of battle and smoke was still rather strong opting to rinse himself in salty sea water.

---

Sandor released Jon the moment they were safely inside the tent.

"I'll wait for you outside," he grumbled.

Jon just nodded and lowered the flap to keep the cold from entering the tent where several cots were filled with wounded men. The first one he saw moving about when he searched the large space for a sign of the healer was the familiar broad silhouette of Gendry. His friend had his back to him. Jon spotted the bandage on Gendry's left arm when his friend bent over to help one of the wounded sit upright and drink some water.

"Here you are." Gendry exclaimed visibly relieved when he spotted Jon. He immediately interrupted what he was doing and approached. "We match." He touched the bandage on Jon's left arm."

"Only if you have a cut on your thigh too." Jon embraced Gendry by hugging his right side. "I am glad you are okay."

"I had Ghost by my side. Besides, the fuckers didn't really mean to fight us. That much became clear. They had a strategy of their own. We only had a real fight on our hands when we attempted to reach you. And we did try, even though we did not succeed. You must believe me. As soon as word reached us that you were trapped, the entire front line moved forward and engaged the enemy on the lake."

He looked over Jon's shoulder toward the entrance and frowned. "Where is Ghost? The way he dashed off, I was sure he had picked up your scent."

"I ordered him to clean himself up some." Jon released Gendry.

"One day you must teach me the right way to convince him to do that. I did try that myself several times." Gendry's eyes twinkled.

"He did stink." Jon stated the corners of his mouth turning slightly upwards as he looked around for a sign of a healer.

"He did at that." Gendry grinned but moved aside when the healer of the Free Folk approached them.

"Can I help you, Dragonrider?" He gave Jon a once over. "I will need to clean those wounds. You should have come earlier." He admonished the young man.

The healer made quick work of washing out the wound on his arm and dressed it again with clean bandages. He shook his head when he tried to remove the bloody piece of cloth that had gotten stuck in the crusted over part of the large wound on Jon's right thigh. He used a moist cloth to try to separate the bandage from the cut without causing more damage.

"This wound will need stitches." He informed Jon when he had a clear view of the rather long cut. "Not the entire length, just the upper part where the wound is deepest. We do not have milk of the poppy. Better bite on something." He warned Jon.

Gendry offered him his belt with an apologetic smile. Jon took it stoically.

"It could have been worse." Was all the comment he offered before he bit down on the piece of leather."

Ten stitches later and a large bandage adorning his thigh, Jon was ready to leave.

"Don't walk too far. I recommend you use a stick and lessen the weight you put on that leg. As long as you don't tear the stitches in the first few days, you should be okay." The healer's eyes were still adjusting the bandage on Jon's thigh making sure it would keep in place.

"Thanks. Zalter is it?" Jon asked after the man's name, vaguely remembering seeing him at the Fist of the First Men.

"Zalter is my brother. My name is Zetus." The healer looked up at Jon surprised at hearing his brother's name being mentioned by the Dragonrider.

"Thank you, Zetus. We are grateful that you look after our wounded."

"The Free Folk are indebted to all those that fought to save our lives today. But we all know to whom we owe our biggest debt. You provided us with ships, magic glass and brought strong warriors not to mention dragons real here. If ever the Dragonrider needs help from the Free Folk, we will all come running." The man nodded convincingly.

Jon put his hand on the man's shoulder. "That goes both ways, Zetus. We are allies from now on. I hope you will not forget that the Night's Watch also helped the Free Folk today. The days of fighting each other are at an end. We all know who the true enemy is now. Tell all who seek to harass the Crows that the Dragonrider told them not to. This is the beginning of a new era. The living must band together."

"Only if you tell the Crows the same." Zetus countered.

"I already have, but I will make sure to repeat it to them constantly. I trust the Free Folk more than them. But don't tell them I said that." Jon winked and turned his head in Gendry's direction.

"Since I don't have a stick, perhaps I can lean on you for my walk to the war tent?"

Gendry exchanged a glance with Zetus. "I'll send a few others to help out here," he promised the healer and took Jon's right arm to drape it over his shoulder.

"Let us get going, Dragonrider." He smiled when Jon made a face at being addressed in this way by his friend.

Sandor immediately sprang to attention when Jon and Gendry exited the tent. Jon felt like a sissy with both his arms on the shoulders of bigger men. He was half dragged to the war tent. Ghost met up with them just as they were about to enter the tent. He looked mostly clean and wormed himself inside. Jon let him for now. He did still smell but it was the normal smell of a wet animal. As long as the men offered no objections, Jon would enjoy the soothing company of his direwolf.

He lowered himself on some furs and made an inventory of all the men present. Lord Umber was slumbering in a corner as was one leader of the Free Folk. There was no sign of Edd Tollet nor of Stane. Tormund's large frame was also missing. Jon remembered the men still out on the lake burning corpses. They probably were among them. Then his eyes fell on Jaime Lannister. He looked rather tired but alert, his stare firmly fixed on Jon.

"Have you learned the number of casualties on our side?" Jon asked Lannister hoping he would have some information. He had not been able to see the fighting on the south end of the lake but he guessed it must have gotten rather violent once the gap had frozen over and the forces were able to meet in close combat over a wide front.

"Not yet but I can assure you it will be low. It quickly became clear that they were only trying to keep our forces from helping you. When I interrogated some of the commanders, I learned that the dead didn't really engage anyone south of the lake with the tenacity they showed whilst targeting you. They just blocked anyone that was trying to reach you and only countered when provoked. I asked the leaders to gather the men they had been responsible for so they could make a list of who was killed and who got hurt. First estimate is that approximately fifty were killed." He cleared his throat and picked up a cup to drink a few sips. "More than two hundred are wounded though. Thirty are hurt rather severely. The healers estimate all but one have a real chance to pull through. I told them you would like a list with the names of the dead."

He made a face and added. "After Clegane seconded my claim, they are all agreed and are busy with that right now. That is why you find me in here all alone. I asked Edd Tollet to put together the list of casualties amongst the men from Castle Black."

"Fifty were killed." Jon shook his head. "Before the battle started I had hoped for less. After the resurrection and the prolonged fighting, I didn't dare to make a new estimation."

"Only fifty casualties against an enemy force of fifty thousand strong, every general would call that an extraordinary, even a miraculous victory, my Prince." Jaime Lannister tried to get Jon to see the bigger picture.

"He's right, you know." Jon was surprised to hear Gendry agree with something Jaime Lannister said.

"Perhaps," Jon relented. "But for the friends and loved ones of each of those fifty brave men and women who lost their lives, it will be a hard blow."

"That is another discussion entirely, my Prince. A battle commander must not let such thoughts influence him. His focus must be on winning the fight with the best strategy intent on losing as little men as possible. He must see these men as assets and assess their strengths and weaknesses when he decides who gets the more dangerous tasks. To protect his own sanity, he cannot think of these men as husbands, fathers or only sons."

"But we can honour them now." Jon's tone allowed no opposition. "I want them all to have a decent burial ceremony. We will make time for that as soon as we have taken care of the ones that are fleeing."

"What are you talking about, Jon?" Gendry asked.

"I do not want them to be able to inform the Night King of what exactly we did to defeat them. I want to destroy every last one of those wights. My guess is that one or at the most two White Walkers are amongst the fleeing party. As soon as my dragons have rested, I will go after them."

Jon tried to get up but Jaime put a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from rising.

"As far as I have been told, they hardly move during daylight and travel at night. And when they do, they travel rather slowly. I propose we rest up and then go after them once we have formulated a solid plan. They needed more than a moon to reach us, isn't that correct? Then we have a moon to catch them before they are reunited with their leader."

"I don't have a moon." Jon groaned. "I need to head back south. The news of who I really am and the imminent threat I pose to his reign will reach King Robert any day now and he might decide to kill my uncle or launch an attack on Dragonstone."

"Your dragons are in no condition to fly off straight away, my Prince. We need to come up with a plan to hunt down those wights first anyway. You look exhausted and weak, if you do not mind my frankness. I propose you rest up a bit as well." Jaime looked at Sandor for support.

"You had the tougher part as always, Jon." Again it was Gendry who stood by Jaime Lannister. "You need to rest. It won't do to have Rhaegal recuperated and you not being able to keep your balance on his back or falling asleep high up in the air."

"Fucking listen to them, boy." Sandor broke his silence for the first time since entering the tent. "I'll find Orell and let him search for the fucking enemy. We will have a damned fine plan in place to catch every last of those dead cunts after your beauty sleep."

"I guess it wouldn't hurt to close my eyes for a little bit." Jon relented. "But first, can anyone send a raven or a messenger to Eastwatch? I want them to send word to Dragonstone that we survived the main battle and are just tying up loose ends. Perhaps forward a message to Winterfell as well?"

"I'll see to it if you promise to rest." Sandor was already on his feet. "Ghost, look after him until I find Rykker or Stokeworth to take over guard duty." Clegane clearly dismissed Jaime as someone he trusted to keep Jon safe.

Jon stretched himself out on the furs and carefully arranged his right thigh in a comfortable position. He tucked his coat under his chin and was asleep in no time.

---

A while later Jon awoke to hushed voices and the smell of warm food. His stomach grumbled. Assessing his environment he noticed that most of the leaders were assembled in the tent but were installed on the other side a safe distance from where Jon and his direwolf were resting.

Sandor and Tormund immediately switched to his part of the tent bringing food and ale. They witnessed how a silent dialogue between Jon and his white wolf resulted in Ghost bowing his head and reluctantly leaving the tent.

"I told him to go hunting." Jon explained when he noticed the question written on Sandor's face.

"Makes sense," Sandor grumbled. "Better eat this quickly. We want to exchange our experiences from last night and then we will finalise our plan to hunt down the last of the dead motherfuckers."

Jon greedily drank from the offered cup and attacked his bowl of lukewarm porridge.

"Seems royals get as hungry as the common man." Sandor teased him.

"Dragonrider or King, they all eat, drink, bleed and shit the same as the Free Folk." Tormund grinned slapping Sandor's shoulder.

Jon studied Sandor's reaction. The man didn't look bothered one bit by Tormund's tactile gesture. If anything the two men had become even closer friends. He quickly emptied his bowl and gratefully accepted a refill of his cup when Tormund offered.

"How long did I sleep?" Jon asked both men.

"Noon was a while ago." Tormund answered.

Jon just nodded and wasted no more time. Soon after, all the leaders were gathered and formed a large circle. Tormund Giantsbane coughed loudly and the debriefing started.

"What went wrong exactly? How did you get isolated and overrun by the enemy?" Jaime Lannister asked Jon a bit later after they had all been briefed on the outcome of the weak attempt of an attack on the fleet with the refugees from Hardhome.

"It all began with the ice that wasn't as easy to melt. Nor did the layer of ice give in under the weight of their numbers." Jon started his explanation, eying his empty cup.

"Didn't you weaken the borders before the battle started?" Apparently Jaime had already gotten some details out of the others commanders about the initial plan.

"I did on several occasions before the battle. The ice still was markedly thinner at the edges before they arrived. Somehow the dead bring the cold with them. You can feel them approaching even if you don't see them. The temperature drops significantly. Even after dragonfire broke the ice and we had a safe margin of melted water to separate the two armies, those White Walkers only needed to approach and the gaps slowly but surely froze over once more."

"That still doesn't explain how you got isolated on the ground so far from our main host. How did that come about?" Jaime's tone was accusing.

"We were winning. The dead were trapped. I managed to capsize large chunks of ice on several occasions. Thousands drowned, more were burned by the dragons or killed by dragonglass arrows. We managed to destroy several White Walkers which resulted in incapacitating a rather large number of wights. After that the enemy stopped attacking and seemed to accept their defeat as they were slowly retreating. This recounting might seem short and simple but all of that took a lot of time and a great deal of effort. I do not know how long we had been at by the time the enemy appeared defeated.

The dragons had been spewing fire almost incessantly for a very long time and were drained of most of their energy. I lost count of the number of times we needed to stop burning wights and fly alongside the borders of the lake to melt the ice that threatened to freeze over again and again. All the while the dragons needed to be alert and often had to make evasive manoeuvres to duck ice spears. Rhaegal also had to focus on keeping me on his back. It was no wonder he was the first one to tire. He began to have trouble maintaining his balance. No longer sure I was safe on his back high up in the air I decided to land as soon as the fighting had stopped. The enemy was at a safe distance and retreating." Jon defended his decision.

"You could have chosen a better spot." Jaime remarked drily.

"I know but our army was spread out over a large area and I didn't see a clear landing spot close enough to be absolutely sure that Rhaegal would make it. We would have needed to fly a long way to land behind our own lines. I made a judgement call."

Jaime Lannister gave him the exact same look Ser Gerold would have given him, or Ser Oswell, or Ser Arthur for that matter. That thought made Jon lower his head. For a moment he felt like a kid again that had made a stupid mistake during a training session. "I know," he acceded. "I won't make that mistake a second time."

"That fucking green dragon was no longer flying steadily." Tormund defended his friend. "We all prayed that the Dragonrider would get off that fire beast before he fell to his death. Nobody could have foreseen the hell that broke lose next."

"I reckon they were not defeated." Jaime stated the obvious. "Did they have reinforcements tucked away somewhere?"

"They were fucking resurrected." Jon vented his frustration by raising his voice and swearing.

Jaime Lannister as much as the others present startled at his unusual outburst.

"It was indeed a horrifying sight. Nobody expected such a thing to be fucking possible." Sandor defended his former charge.

Jon sighed and his voice sounded subdued when he explained. "The White Walker standing in the middle of the lake looked straight at me. Every single wight still undefeated stopped walking and turned its head and its icy blue eyes toward me. Can you imagine hundreds of them, every cursed single pair of these otherworldly eyes looked straight at you?" Jon shivered and swallowed thickly.

"But that was not the creepiest thing," he continued when everyone kept silent, mesmerized by his ominous tone. "The White Walker stood still for a while and then he started smirking. He simply raised his arms and all the wights that had dropped down when we destroyed some of the White Walkers earlier, just stood up and also turned their heads towards me. And then the ice cracked and countless wights started to crawl out of the water. Those were in large part the ones that I had drowned earlier."

Jon shook his head, a frustrated, dejected look on his face. "One small gesture of a fucking ice creature and the enemy's forces were replenished with at least ten thousand wights that we already took down once."

"All coming for you," Jaime stated, better understanding the predicament Jon had been in.

"Yes." Jon took a deep breath to calm down. The retelling had summoned vivid pictures of this traumatic experience to the front of his mind. He was sure he would have nightmares of gruesome blue eyes for years to come. He took another deep breath and forced the vision from his mind. One more deep breath and he felt calm enough to continue.

"Fortunately Viserion had stayed up in the air and did his best to deter most of them. Rhaegal was swamped in a matter of moments and wasn't as lucky. They only annoyed him. Their swords did nothing more than give him annoying little pricks but they were keeping him busy and more importantly also grounded. Later I noticed that his wing got a small tear."

When the others looked shocked to hear that, Jon quickly put them at ease. "Don't worry. My dragon reassured me already that this won't hinder him one bit during flight and that it will heal soon enough. He just needs rest. Anyway, being distracted by those wights, Rhaegal could only help me with an occasional small burst of fire." Jon paused. He vividly remembered feeling his dragon's initial panic and subsequent frustration.

"Mag the Mighty saved me when my foot got stuck between the bones of corpses at my feet. Ser Arthur would not have been proud."

Jon looked straight into Jaime Lannister's eyes when he pronounced his next sentence. "Mind where you step. Be aware of your environment and use it to your advantage."

"I remember." Jamie answered hardly making a sound but Jon read the words from his lips easily.

"I wonder if he would have been able to find a safe spot to place his foot amidst all that chaos." Jon muttered to himself. Then he looked straight at Jaime Lannister and spoke up again. "I kept fighting wights off for what felt like ages. That was about the time you came onto the scene. You know what happened next. I am fairly sure I owe you my life. You have my heartfelt thanks. I gather it must not have been easy getting to me, bypassing all those wights."

Jaime acknowledged Jon's words with a modest nod. "And circumventing all the corpses of the ones you had already slayed. I took a shortcut through the woods and was determined to stop for nothing until I reached you. Any idea why they were all focussed on you?"

"Because he is the fucking Dragonrider, you dumb cunt." Tormund exclaimed. Sandor nodded his assent.

Jon sighed. Sandor Clegane had been very vocal when he had learned Jaime Lannister was travelling with the party from Castle Black to join the fight. "I don't trust the sisterfucker." He had protested loudly. "Besides he is a Lannister cunt. They eat Targaryens for breakfast."

Jon had needed to tell Sandor fragments of his conversation with Jaime Lannister at Castle Black to appease Clegane but there still seemed to be a residual of bad blood between the two of them.

"Not just because of that." Jon admitted and addressed Jaime. "Prince Rhaegar found this prophecy. Apparently I am at the center of it. Everything points to me being the one foretold to kill their Night King."

"Night King?"

"Their supreme commander who only sent us half of his forces tonight." Jon straightened his posture. "We need to prevent the remnants of their army from reaching him. We need to go after them and destroy every last one of them." He said his tone urgent now.

"And we will. How are your dragons doing?" Jaime asked him.

Jon closed his eyes for a moment. "They have found a dry spot and are resting. They have eaten their fill. They will both be ready when we are."

"That's good to hear." Tormund slapped Jon's shoulder. "Wouldn't like to take on those dead fucks without your fire beasts, Dragonrider."

"Before we continue, has the list been completed yet? How many fatalities?" Jon tone indicated he really wanted to know.

"Fifty three on our last count," Edd Tollet spoke up. "Many of the Free Folk. The Night's Watch lost seven men, the Lords of the North," he looked at Lord Umber.

"Five from the Dreadfort, only one from the rest of my group."

"I am sorry to hear so many Free Folk lost their lives." Jon looked at their leaders.

"It was to be expected." Tormund spoke up. "If you look at it, we lost less than your southerners. I don't know the fancy term for such calculations but if you consider the damned size of our host, we fucking hardly lost anybody. They will be remembered as heroes and their families will be taken care of. Don't fret, Dragonrider. I have never witnessed a battle of such a scale with so few casualties on our side. We killed almost fifty thousand dead cunts. Mance Rayder will declare you a fucking God when he hears we only lost forty of the Free Folk while defeating the scariest enemy ever."

Jon nodded in acknowledgement and then moved on with the meeting. "Sandor, can you coordinate funeral arrangements? If everyone agrees we will build several pyres, one for each division of our army."

"I fucking want to join you on your mission." Clegane protested.

"I'd be willing to arrange it." Edd Tollet offered. The man had a bandage around his head and his swordhand was covered in bandages.

"Thanks, Edd. Get Rykker and Stokeworth to assist you." Jon responded.

Edd Tollet's face fell. "My Prince, I was going to tell you later since we agreed not to mention names during this meeting, but …."

Jon paled. "But?"

"Rykker is on the list. He died trying to reach you. Here." Edd handed him the scroll with names.

Jon swallowed as his hand automatically reached for the list. Pictures of the first time he had seen Rykker at Castle Black popped up in his mind. He struggled to find the right approach. It wouldn't do to read the list of names with everyone scrutinising his tiniest reaction. He would save that for after the meeting. Jaime's words of a battle commander's way of thinking still rang fresh in his mind.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I am sure your fellow brothers will help make the arrangements. Thanks for letting me know, Edd." Jon nodded at the ranger and tried to keep his composure.

Gendry entered the tent his face red and sweat dripping from his temple. "Someone accidentally set fire to the tent with the wounded."

"Please don't stay here on my account. We'll reconvene when the crisis has passed." Jon gave everyone permission to leave.

He used the unexpected moment of respite to shift his wounded leg in a more comfortable position. When almost everybody had left, he opened the scroll. He read through the list of names with mixed feelings. He was relieved not to recognise any of the other names but felt guilty at the same time. Just because he didn't know these men, their loved ones would miss them all the same. He put his head down and closed his eyes for a short time.

He opened his eyes again when a strange scratching noise reached his ears. Apparently he was no longer alone in the tent.

Jaime Lannister sat a few feet from him, scribbling some things on a scroll. A cool breeze entered the tent and Jon's eyes drifted to the entrance in time to see Ghost's muzzle appear. His loyal direwolf had probably sensed his distress when he learned of Rykker's demise and had come to keep him company. Jon tapped his left thigh and Ghost sprinted inside, quickly positioning himself cosily next to Jon resting his head endearingly on his human's thigh.

Jaime Lannister's raised his eyebrow at the blatant display of camaraderie between human and beast but Jon merely shrugged. He had already reigned in his behaviour and postponed Ghost's promised hug because of the man's presence. He exploited the fact that Lannister's gaze was focussed on him to motion the man to approach.

After Lannister had eagerly complied Jon opened the conversation."I want to thank you properly for saving my life out there. Somehow you were able to reach me when all others failed."

"You looked in a spot of bother and I promised your father." Lannister answered humbly.

When Jon just kept staring at him, Jaime Lannister added. "You're welcome, my Prince. After I reached you, it was a joint effort. You handled yourself well."

Jon raised his eyebrow expressing his doubt. He remembered each word of Lannister's rather judging interrogation earlier.

Jaime Lannister gave him a wan smile and explained his change of opinion. "Before I came back in here, the leader of the Free Folk, the big red uh"

"Tormund Giantsbane." Jon helped him out.

"Giantsbane told me how long you were being besieged before I showed up. Sandor Clegane might have helped him with a few chosen words. Besides, I would have come too late if not for the giant. It seems Mag the Mighty earned your thanks as well. I heard they are still plucking arrows out of him. I am glad he is on our side. How will anybody in King's Landing ever believe giants fought dead people?" He shook his head.

"Imagine if Mag the Mighty or Wun Wun had gotten killed and had been resurrected. We could easily have faced undead giants on the battlefield. It is really imperative to burn anyone that dies, be it ally or enemy."

Jaime nodded and looked Jon over. "You sure do look better." He remarked.

"Well, I refreshed myself a bit, had some rest and got my wounds taken care of. Ghost looks cleaner too. You should have encountered him earlier." Jon's lips curled slightly. "I do not think you are used to such a smell."

"I wouldn't know. But don't bother trying to prove your point." His face grew more serious. "We need to talk."

Jon noticed him fiddling with a scroll and studied the item more carefully. It looked more like a rough drawing than a letter. "You are devising a plan?" He asked.

This time it was Jaime's turn to raise his eyebrow.

"The prophecy?"Jon guessed. "You want to talk about the prophecy?"

"Amongst other things."

"You sound like Ser Gerold." Jon tried to mimic his Lord Commander's voice and manner of speaking. "My Prince, we need to go over it again. I need a step by step account of the fight. I am sure you have not told me all the details."

Jaime chuckled but sobered when he saw that the Prince kept his face blank. It was clear that despite his successful rescue effort he had not entirely redeemed himself. He swallowed cursing for the umpteenth time his impulsive act of pushing that Stark boy out of the window.

"That is exactly how I remember Ser Gerold. I don't need anything that thorough. I just want to walk you through all that I have learned from what you said and from interrogating the others." Jaime Lannister explained.

"Have you come up with a plan to eradicate the ones who fled?" Jon opted to change the subject knowing he would be considered a weak commander if they dwelled too long on the tactical mistake he had made and the 'small' losses they suffered.

"Yes. We all agreed on it. Knowing our diverse group, that says a lot about the quality of the plan."

"Tell me." Careful not to hurt his thigh, Jon pulled his knees up so he could rest his chin on them, his eyes fixed on Lannister.

"Well, first of all we use all we have learned. Rule one: no more disabling wights in a way we cannot burn them immediately."

Jon was glad Lannister spoke matter of fact without a hint of accusation in his voice and nodded. "No more drowning. I had come to the same conclusion. I can't fault myself not to know that in advance though. I had never seen anything like that."

"Nobody is accusing you of incompetence, my Prince, far from it." Jaime Lannister's tone was sincere.

"I burned every last wight on those rafts. Perhaps one or two fell in the water but that couldn't be helped." Jon underlined the fact that he had already learned from the events of the battle on the lake before having it pointed out to him by the man.

"And the White Walker?" Jaime had been able to see the creature disintegrate from where he stood on the shore. They had been too far out though for him to be entirely sure every last wight had been destroyed.

"That was strange." Jon answered his question. "He just stood upright on the raft, barely able to keep his balance. He had no weapons left and raised his arms, leaving himself wide open. He was shot point blank with a single arrow coming from one of the ships. One tiny arrowhead of dragonglass aimed for the spot where his heart would have been if he had possessed one. It was almost too easy."

"Perhaps having lost all his weapons and being out on water he was out of options? Perhaps he hoped he could get some of the dead come crawling out of the depths of the sea? That's how the other one on the lake resurrected the drowned ones, wasn't it? Just by raising his arms?" Jaime Lannister ventured.

"Perhaps. Then he must not have realised how deep the sea was. They can't swim so they are not familiar with water." Jon reasoned.

"Why then go out on the rafts?" Jaime wondered.

"It could have been a command from their commander, the Night King. Or it could have been the irresistible lure of all those beating hearts on the boats? Who knows?" Jon released a deep breath. "We keep getting off track. Is there a rule number two?"

"Lure the White Fuckers to a vulnerable position. Destroy the cunts and be fucking done with it. No use going after dumb carcasses of wights if we don't fucking have to." Jaime Lannister used a rougher voice when he spoke these words.

"Let me guess," Jon gave him a small smile. "Sandor Clegane came up with that one."

"What gave it away?" Jaime gave Jon a wan smile. "You sure have a strange way of picking your guards. Clegane, the Mountain's brother and I just heard you appointed a Lady to your Kingsguard?" Jaime Lannister shook his head. The man looked sad now and Jon could easily imagine him to be a bit jealous as well.

"Sandor is loyal to a fault and a fearsome fighter. He hides a heart of gold under his rude speech and rough behaviour. He hated his brother and was almost the only one who dared to speak up and condemn the murder of my half-siblings and their mother. I lost a great Kingsguard when he decided to live amongst the Free Folk. And the Lady Brienne, well she almost beat him in a fight. She fights well and is certainly strong enough. I have yet to meet a man who is more honourable than her." Jon defended his appointments with fervour."

When Jaime winced slightly Jon recollected himself. "Never mind all that. I need neither your consent nor approval. Just tell me what plan you have all come up with to eradicate the ones that fled."

"Simply put, you are the bait." Jaime looked at Jon clearly expecting a strong reaction.

"Rhaegal and Viserion won't like that. They are rather protective of me." Jon answered calmly, refusing to get riled up. He had faith they would not just throw him to the wolves.

"Then you will have to persuade your dragons. We know there can only be one or two White Walkers left. So it won't be that difficult."

"I think only one considering I killed another one the rafts."

"To think that is all that is left from such an impressive host. Those Free Folk should worship the ground that you walk on. You almost singlehandedly saved all of their asses."

"Trust me. They do. They did long before any of you dumb cunts of southern fuckers did." Now Jon imitated Sandor Clegane's voice.

"I know all too well. Tormund almost jumped me and only agreed to our plan when I told him all the contingencies in place to keep you safe. They would rather throw themselves in front of you in a suicidal way instead of having a single curly hair on your charming head harmed." Jaime revealed a fragment of the discussion that had taken place while Jon had rested.

"If we have some time to kill when things settle down, I will tell you all you about the time I fled Castle Black and found a warm welcome amongst the Free Folk."

"I might have heard a version of the tale. Stokeworth and Tormund each told their half of it. And I heard from Giantsbane how some of their fiercest leaders kneeled to you after you saved them when you heeded the cry for help from your uncle, Benjen Stark."

Jaime paused and tilted his head slightly. "Now, enough stalling. Tell me about the prophecy that Prince Rhaegar found." Lannister's tone persuaded Jon that he would not be dissuaded from trying to get to the bottom of this.

Jon acquiesced. "There are two. Or perhaps it is more accurate to say that one is a tale and the other is a prophecy. On the one hand there is the northern tale of the Long Night and the Others that rise during a long cold Winter striving to bring eternal darkness and destroying every last living being. They speak of a last hero who together with the children of the forest defeated them eight thousand years ago after which the Wall was built and the Night's Watch was established.

On the other hand there is the eastern prophesy of Azor Ahai, a hero that will defeat the Darkness with a flaming sword. This hero is also called the Prince That Was Promised. This Prince is also said to have 'a song of Ice and Fire'. My father, Prince Rhaegar, was obsessed with this prophecy.

First he suspected he himself might be this Prince Who Was Promised. Later he became convinced that the Prince must be one of his sons. He wanted to sire a third child because the dragon needs three heads, he wrote to Maester Aemon at the Wall. Since his wife couldn't give him a third child, he sought to wed a new wife. He had a purpose in choosing Lyanna Stark.

Now everything points to me. I am the Son of Ice and Fire. I have both ice from the Kings of Winter and fire from the Targaryen dragonlords running through my veins. Greenseers have affirmed this. I have been born to keep the balance. When evil rises, good must rise to. Also, a red priest has seen in the flames that I am The Prince That was Promised and..." Jon's voice faltered. He bit his lower lip.

"And?" Jaime encouraged him.

"And I had a vision myself." Jon admitted.

"So you are convinced you are the only one who can defeat this great general up in the North?"

"Their King." Jon whispered now. "Only a King can defeat a King. I need to become King of the Seven Kingdoms first. Only then do I stand a chance against their leader."

"Nobody here told me anything about that." Jaime studied Jon's face.

"Nobody knows yet except for my small council. Hells, I didn't believe it myself until I found their magic hideout nobody can enter." He kept his voice down so even if someone walked by the tent, they would not be able to overhear them.

"Not even the Prince Who Was Promised." Jaime kept his tone low now too.

"Not even me seated on a powerful fire breathing dragon could break the barrier. That are problems for later, Lannister." Jon tried to give his voice some authority when he spoke up again. "Please keep this information to yourself for now. Let us concentrate on preventing any of his foot soldiers or White Walkers from returning to him. They must not be allowed to inform him of what happened here."

"Assuming they share no magic link and that it isn't too late already." Jaime ventured shrugging his shoulders. "I hate magic."

"Let us hope that even if they do have such magic, they can't communicate over such a vast distance. That is another reason to make haste. We need to go after them as soon as possible. Now about your plan, I believe you still need to tell me the particulars?"

---

When Jon stepped outside for a bit of fresh air, Stokeworth used the opportunity to approach him.

"My Prince, have you heard?" His voice faltered.

Jon watched him with compassion. The man had a stab wound just under his left shoulder, a split upper lip and a nasty burn on his left hand. He put his hand on the man's right shoulder.

"I am sorry, Gylles. I know he was a close friend to you. I am truly sorry. I will personally write to his family after everything has been settled. Do you know what happened?"

Stokeworth proceeded to tell him that Rykker had been sliced through by a rusted sword when he desperately attempted to reach his Prince. His body had been burned moments after he drew his last breath. There would be no body to burn on the ceremonial funeral pyre they were planning.

"We'll honour him just the same." Jon had responded to the man's despondent tone. "Any other's you knew well among the casualties?"

"Edgerton didn't get a chance to engage the enemy and is all right. Edd Tollet has a couple of bruises. The others I do not think you knew. Ulmer died when an arrow pierced his throat. Albett lies in the tent of the more severely wounded. He might lose his right arm. The others only have shallow cuts and bruises. Perhaps I should also mention Todder's sprained ankle. But no, I wasn't close to any of them."

"I saw you speaking to Jaime Lannister in a friendly fashion." Stokeworth added a moment later. "We were all surprised to hear of him helping you. We all wanted to be the one to keep you safe and instead, this man, he …" Stokeworth's feelings got the better of him and he had to turn his face away.

"I know it is difficult to believe but Jaime Lannister has chosen to uphold the promise he made to my father, Prince Rhaegar. There is more to this man than meets the eye. He told me why he killed my grandfather. I have absolved him from any blame for that. He had a most honourable reason to act the way he did. He should have told the entire realm what disaster he singlehandedly prevented from happening that day." Jon defended Lannister.

"But still, all he did afterwards." Stokeworth objected.

"I told him that I didn't trust him when we met at Castle Black. He asked for a chance to redeem himself and to make good on the promise he gave my father. I guess he took it. It is highly likely that those two White Walkers would have succeeded in killing me if Lannister had not been able to reach me when he did." Jon elaborated.

"I guess." Stokeworth answered reluctantly.

"Crows or men of the Night's Watch fighting side by side with Free Folk also known as Wildlings, would you have believed that a few moons ago?" Jon asked him.

"No, my Prince."

"Well there you have it. Perhaps you should give Jaime Lannister a chance then?"

"I will if you ask me to, my Prince." Stokeworth answered and the matter was closed.

---

When darkness covered the lands beyond the Wall, Sandor and Stokeworth kept watch when both Jon and Orell warged into birds to search for the whereabouts of the enemy. Jon had found a night owl. Orell followed him in his eagle. The enemy had indeed not ventured far yet. Jon counted only a few hundred wights. No wonder Rhaegal and Viserion had been exhausted. If that was all that was left of a force of fifty thousand strong, they must really have outdone themselves. He only saw one White Walker. If only they had taken one more out on the battlefield they could have all slept soundly tonight. A short burial ceremony the next morning and he could have been flying south once more. Instead he was flying in the body of a rather young night owl using the bird's ability to see things clearly in the dark.

Having located the enemy he now continued further north scouting the landscape for a clearing matching Jaime Lannister's requirements. Jon released the eagle and regained consciousness back in the war tent. He quickly leapt to his feet and instructed the small force consisting exclusively of Free Folk and Jaime Lannister to head out. Jaime had changed his attire and wore a copy of Jon's coat. He had also used black coals to darken his hair. They spurred their horses. They intended to circle around the enemy and still reach that clearing before the next night fell. They counted on the fact that the enemy would camp out somewhere during daylight. Perhaps they hid in caves or crawled under bushes? Orell would try to find out. Much about the enemy was still a mystery. They would close the trap when the enemy marched once more after dusk the next night.

---

Jaime sat in the middle of the clearing and waited for the show to start. He had lit a small fire and was roasting a rabbit. The others were hidden north of the clearing and were watching the sky. Viserion who lay a bit further away suddenly lifted his head which startled a few men who had been eying the dragon that lay too close for their comfort with some anxiety. They followed the large beast's gaze and saw a dark shadow move thought the sky. It was time.

Jon heard their screeches before he saw them. He flew low above the ground and gave Rhaegal the go ahead. He lowered his back and grasped the spines tightly. Rhaegal made the perfect show. It appeared as if he tried to climb higher up into the sky only to falter each time and dropped back down turning and losing his balance. He repeated these antics a few times always ending up a bit further north. When he finally hoovered over the clearing he successfully mimicked a dramatic fall from the skies.

The darkness combined with the trees and bushes between the wights and the clearing made it impossible for the enemy to see what really occurred once Rhaegal's form disappeared behind the tall tree tops. Both dragon and rider hid north of the clearing and Jaime Lannister sat on the ground pretending to be the crashed dragonrider.

As soon as the first wights entered the clearing Jaime sprang to his feet. The White Walker also entered the clearing. Upon seeing Jaime all alone, he stopped and all the wights who had already entered the clearing halted as well. The White Walker carefully studied the environment taking his time, probably searching for a sign of the dragon. Rhaegal lying on the opposite end of the clearing let out a small groan. That was enough confirmation for the White Walker. He allowed the rest of the wights to enter the clearing. Jaime took a few steps to his left side which put even more distance between him and the green dragon.

The moment the wights charged at him he rolled to the side and Rhaegal let out an enormous burst of fire killing a large group of wights. Viserion who had been hiding south of the clearing knew it was his turn. The silverwhite dragon rose up in the sky and let out a big roar. Moments later the trees behind the wights resembled giant torches. The wights that had escaped his dragonfire were all forced to enter the clearing.

The twenty men of the Free Folk that they had handpicked from a large group of volunteers now left their hiding place and stood in a wide circle behind Jaime Lannister. All had torches in their hands. Jon who had stayed hidden behind Rhaegal now climbed on his dragon's back and took out his bow and arrow. Jaime had Blackfyre in his hand and slew the few wights that reached him with remarkable ease. Viserion had successfully created half a circle of fire. No one could escape that way. The White Walker fixed his stare on Jon and raised his arms.

The ground around him moved. A dozen frozen corpses dug their way to the surface and fixed their macabre blue eyes on him. The clearing was a either a burial ground or the place where a hunting party had met their untimely end. While Jon was about to curse their bad luck, Rhaegal was not impressed and simply burned all the newly recruited corpses before they had the chance to emerge completely from their graves.

The Free Folk all took out their bows. Jon loosened his first arrow. The White Walker ducked and advanced on him. Several arrows hit him. A few got stuck in the creature's right arm. The White Walker only fastened his pace towards Jon. Jaime slew the last wight with Blackfyre and tried to catch up with the White Walker. The creature still had a big lead.

"Lannister, keep your distance. Remember what I told you." Jon shouted and was relieved to see the man stop in his tracks. Although it was too dark to see his facial expression, Jon was sure Jaime Lannister was very frustrated. "Nock your arrows. Wait for my command." Jon ordered the Free Folk that still stood in an orderly half circle behind him.

Without further ado, Rhaegal and Viserion enveloped the White Walker in dragonfire, Rhaegal from the front, Viserion from behind.

"Loose!" Jon shouted.

A new salvo of dragonglass arrows hit the White Walker who was using all his energy to keep the fire at bay. One moment the creature was still standing there, the next the two streams of fire hit one another. At once both Viserion and Rhaegal stopped breathing fire. Silence fell over the clearing. The only sound Jon's ears picked up was the crackling of the fire that was raging at the south end of the clearing. The large burning trees there provided ample light to make sure that not a single enemy creature had survived the attack.

On Jaime Lannister's signal, the Free Folk broke their formation and advanced to set fire to every single part of a wight they could find.

"It is over, my Prince." Jaime helped Jon descend from the dragon. Rhaegal kept a wary eye on him but let the man help his human whose frail leg was still a bit stiff. As soon as Jon stood solidly on the frozen ground, Lannister just held Blackfyre in both hands and offered it back to his Prince.

"It is over for now." Jon corrected Jaime Lannister while he accepted his sword and proceeded to sheath it into the empty scabbard dangling from his waist. "The Gods only know when they will strike again."

"First you claim your throne. Next time that I see you, I hope to call you my King, my Prince. I would give anything to be allowed to swear you my sword."

"With all the strange things we have seen these last few sennights, who knows. Anything can happen." Jon looked up to the sky. "I'd like to send word. Do you have some writing material on you perchance?"

"Whatever for?"

"See that eagle up there? That is Orell. I want to send a message to Hardhome."

"Wouldn't it be faster if you flew there on your dragon? The threat has been eliminated. We will be safe now when we travel back to Hardhome. We will meet you there in a day."

"After the burial ceremony I'll probably return to Eastwatch and then onward to Dragonstone." Jon warned him and then turned to the men of the Free Folk who had agreed to come on this mission.

"Thanks for your support. Together we just completed another successful battle." He spoke up so everyone could hear him loud and clear.

"It was an easy victory with two dragons by our side." Their leader spoke up. "The Free Folk owe a big debt to the Dragonrider."

"The Dragonrider is honoured to have been offered the friendship of the Free Folk." Jon responded formally. He looked around one last time and turned to mount his dragon.

Jaime nudged his side. "Chances are I won't see you again before you fly off to Eastwatch. I have orders to return with my men to Castle Black and no excuse whatsoever to make a detour to Eastwatch first. Could you spare me a few moment of your time now before you return to Hardhome. No matter how fast I urge my horse, I will never make it there on time."

Jon looked into the man's pleading cat-green eyes and relented. "Let's find a dry spot to sit down for a moment then."

"You are sure we have another battle of this scale to look forward too?" Jaime asked when they sat down on a fallen tree.

"Looking forward is perhaps not the right term." Jon sighed. "But yes. At least a battle this scale. The Gods know how much more powerful the enemy will grow before they emerge from their magic stronghold."

"I want to be put in charge of organising our defenses and coming up with a strategy." Jaime requested.

"You have ideas." Jon stated the obvious.

"Several. I won't trouble you with details now. Bottom line, we do not fight out in the open. You convince the Warden of the North to let the Free Folk find refuge for a while south of the Wall and use this large ice structure your ancestors built to hold off each attack they launch. Their numbers won't matter if we have the upper ground. This way you could deplete their numbers slowly but surely."

Jon looked at Jaime. "That was my ideal plan for this battle but there was no way the Lords of the North and the Night's Watch would have agreed to let the Free Folk south of the Wall nor would the Free Folk have willingly evacuated their lands. The time we had to convince both parties was too short. Hardly anybody had ever seen a wight before let alone a White Walker. It is a difficult thing to believe without seeing it with your own eyes."

"Things are different now and you have moons, perhaps even years to prepare. As I said, I have several ideas on how to use the Wall to our advantage. Let me take some of this burden of your shoulders, Prince Aegon." Jaime pleaded.

"I'll talk with Ser Gerold and we will keep in touch. Probably by raven." Jon promised.

"I would give anything to be a free man and swear you my sword. Your father was a dear friend and ever since I learned that they are alive, I miss my former mentors, Ser Arthur most of all. My whole world has been turned upside down since I heard they survived the Rebellion and a son of Prince Rhaegar lived. If only I could turn back time." Jaime bowed his head overcome with emotion.

"Do you know," he continued a bit later, "that I almost had to beg Cotter Pyke on my knees to be allowed to join the fighting force heading for Hardhome? I would have though. I would have prostrated myself before him if necessary. I made a promise to your father."

Jon stayed silent. His respect for Jaime Lannister had grown with leaps and bounds. It was difficult to still see in him the man that had pushed his cousin Bran from that tower. When he looked at Jaime Lannister now, he saw a capable battle commander, a brave man willing to put his life on the line for a cause he believed in. Not only had he jumped in the fray amongst hundreds of wights, he had also offered to be the bait this very night.

'Just as a Kingsguard would do!' Jon chastised himself for not having drawn the comparison before. He suddenly saw Jaime Lannister's behaviour in a new light. The man stuck close to Jon whenever he had the opportunity. He had been able to reached Jon when no one else succeeded and tonight he had taken Jon's place as bait. All moves a trained Kingsguard would make, never mind his promise to Prince Rhaegar to protect his offspring. Jaime Lannister was a trained Kingsguard, one trained by Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Gerold, Ser Barristan, all the best of men.

Jon kept staring in the distance his mind warring with conflicting feelings. He was still debating how to respond when Jaime Lannister broke the silence once more. His voice sounded resigned to his fate now.

"I wish you all the best, my Prince. I look forward to receiving the raven that heralds you as King Aegon the Sixth of his Name, King of the Seven Kingdoms and the True Protector of the Realms of Men. Perhaps one day the Night's Watch might send me on a mission to find new recruits and I can see you in the Throne Room sitting on the Iron Throne with my own eyes."

Jon finally turned his head and met Jaime Lannister's melancholic eyes. "Perhaps. But you will certainly see me at Castle Black when the Night King makes his next move. I will write to Cotter Pyke on your behalf."

Jaime nodded and stayed silent.

"I better return to my dragons and fly to Hardhome." Jon made a move to get up and was immediately offered the strong arm of Jaime Lannister. He let himself be pulled upright. "You've proven you are more than what people say about you, Ser Jaime." Jon used Lannister's former title on purpose. "You showed us and yourself that you can still make a difference and lead an honourable life. Try not to dwell too much on past mistakes and strive to become the man you were always destined to be. Title or not, the vows of your knighthood still motivate your actions. I'll recommend you to Cotter Pyke and order him to ignore the restrictions Robert Baratheon gave him when you were sentenced to the Wall."

"I'm grateful, my Prince." Jaime bowed and released his arm when they neared the group of the Free Folk.

Jon nodded and turned to take his leave of the small group of volunteers. He knew only a few of them by name. Sandor and Tormund had handpicked them when they had finally agreed to stay behind to see to it that Free Folk, Crows and 'Southerners' would not get into more drunken fights.

High up in the air he kept thinking of the rueful, dejected demeanour of Jaime Lannister and wondered if they would consider him crazy if he relayed to them how difficult it had been not to pardon Jaime Lannister on the spot and give him back his life south of the Wall. He felt a kind of an unexplainable kinship with the former knight, and couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if Jaime Lannister had been present at the Tower of Joy all these years ago and someone else, for example Ser Arthur had stayed in the Red Keep when the Mad King threatened to burn down King's Landing and all its inhabitants.

When he reached Hardhome, he was obliged to put these thoughts away to examine them at a later date. Lady Brienne was waiting for him a safe distance away from his dragons. Edric and Loras Tyrell were also approaching. He hadn't seen the three of them since he left them on the ship after the rafts had been burned and the White Walker leading the attack on his fleet that had been defeated.

Lady Brienne greeted him formally. Edric came running up next and gave him a brief hug. Loras stood awkwardly next to Brienne and bowed. "My Prince."

"I must congratulate you all on a job well done." Jon spoke to all three of them but his gaze lingered longer on Lady Brienne.

"You were right, my Prince. They did come for the ships." Lady Brienne answered demurely but the colour rose in her cheeks.

"Pathetic attack." Edric remarked. "I heard about the fight here. I can't imagine fifty thousand men in one place. Let alone all of them trying to kill you."

"Let's talk about this some other time. We first need to honour our fallen. Have you seen Sandor around or do you know when the ceremony will be held?"

"Tonight shortly before dusk." Loras Tyrell answered.

"Then I can first catch some sleep. I am turning into a night owl. Fighting at night and sleeping the morning away." Jon looked at the sky and guessed by the position of the sun that he still could get plenty or rest in before the sun reached its highest peak.

"Wouldn't you prefer to break your fast first, my Prince?" Lady Brienne offered.

"I will, perhaps while we eat you can brief me on what happened at your end?" Jon asked while he walked to the side of the encampment where the cooks always had food at the ready.

---

To Jon it seemed as if he had only been asleep for mere moments when someone shook him awake.

"Jon. Jon! An urgent message for your eyes only."

Jon scrambled to get to a sitting position. "How? When? From whom?"

"Forwarded from Eastwatch to Hardhome. I think it is from Davos or Ser Gerold. Anyway, it came originally from Dragonstone." Gendry was still breathing heavily. It seemed he had run all the way to the tent where Jon was resting.

Jon rubbed his eyes and clumsily broke the familiar seal. "It is from Davos all right." He paled and dropped the scroll in his lap.

"I need to fly to Dragonstone. I have not an instance to lose. Gendry, tell everyone to go ahead with the funeral as planned. Afterward anyone who wants to leave and go home can do so. I want you, Edric, Loras Tyrell and Lady Brienne to head for Eastwatch tomorrow morning and await further instructions."

He smiled tiredly at his friend. "You might get to see Winterfell sooner than you imagined, Gendry."

"Jon, shouldn't you rest up a bit longer. What can be so urgent that you can't spare half a day. You will at least need two days to get there. Are you and your dragons really up for that? How is your thigh?"

Jon picked up the scroll again and read the few lines one more time. "I'll ask my dragons." He decided finally and awkwardly got to his feet.

"Can't you ask them from here? I mean, just close your eyes and do your thing?" Gendry urged Jon to return to his previous position.

"You are not thinking clearly," he further tried to persuade his friend. "A clear sign you are exhausted from everything you've been through. I hope your dragons agree with me. I might tie you up if they don't."

"Damn, I'll miss you, Gendry. Somehow, you get under my skin without me resenting you for it. It must have something to do with our shared blood, Cousin. I pray you can have a calming influence on Robb as well when you see him next."

Not waiting for a reply, Jon closed his eyes and contacted his dragons. Rhaegal was fast asleep and Jon could sense the dragon's exhaustion. He was not fit to fly the entire way to Dragonstone yet. Better to wait one more day than crashing into the Shivering Sea from exhaustion.

"No need to search for those ropes, Gendry. I'll rest a bit longer. Wake me if I sleep past the second half of the afternoon.

---

The funeral ceremony marked another event for the history books: Wildlings, Crows and Lords of the North praying together, honouring their dead in a joint ceremony. Jon made a mental note to describe the funeral in fine detail to Sam later.

He was set to fly to Eastwatch at first light and then evaluate Rhaegal's condition before attempting the long trek south. He had spent some time with Rhaegal when they both were awake in the late afternoon. Jon had urged him to eat some more to regain his strength. The dragon's spirit had lifted when he heard they would soon be heading home to Dragonstone. Jon was sure Rhaegal would do his best to regain his strength as soon as possible. If it had not been so cold at night, Jon would have slept amidst his dragons his last night beyond the Wall. Instead he opted to set up a larger tent close to the beach where his dragons had settled in for the night. Ghost and Gendry would stay with him during the night.

Loras, Edric and Lady Brienne kept him company until it was time to retire. Loras and Edric entertained Jon with a hilarious description of Lady Brienne's encounter with Tormund Giantsbane. The man had flirted shamefully with her and had offered to set her up with one of his friends all the while telling her how his heart was sad that he only met her after he had already been claimed by another. Lady Brienne at first took part in the conversation making fun of the big red headed half-giant. By the end of the tale however she had fallen silent and sported two big red cheeks.

Despite the fact that Jon had slept a large part of the day, he fell asleep immediately and it was not until the early morning that his sleep was disturbed by strange dreams. He woke with a start and felt energized. All would be well. This time it had not been nightmares that had awoken him. If what he had dreamt was a greendream, then perhaps things would work out for the best.

He exited the tent in time to see a beautiful red sun emerging from the water and colour the sky in all shades of orange and red. He stretched his body and lifted his arms up towards the sky. Things were looking up. Soon he would be back on Dragonstone and he could finally concentrate on claiming the throne that had been stolen from his family. It was time to clear his father's name and tell the realm what a loving husband he had been instead of a rapist. And then he and Dany would marry.

When he looked back towards the sea, the water once more looked its normal shade of greenish blue and the sun had risen a bit higher in a now clear blue sky. 'Time to break my fast. If Jaime Lannister has ridden part of the night, I will still be able to say goodbye to him before he heads back to Castle Black. I'll make certain to talk to my three Kingsguards about him. They knew him before things went wrong. I need to learn more about who he was before.'

Jon's musings were interrupted when Ghost nudged his left thigh. Jon petted the white wolf's head.
"Come on, Ghost. Time to find us some food."

---

Jon was in the midst of breaking his fast when Lord Osric Umber appeared. "My Prince." He greeted. "I am sorry to disturb your meal but we all heard you will be leaving soon and a spokesman for the Bolton men has asked repeatedly to be granted an audience. I stalled him yesterday but now I think perhaps that was wrong."

"Wrong?"

"Who knows when you will be returning to the North, my Prince?" Lord Umber stated the obvious. "These men want to be reassured. They suffered the heavier losses if you take into account what a small group they were to begin with."

"How did that come about?" Jon asked fully alert now.

"Sheer bad luck. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time, shall we say. The gap froze over where they were positioned on the front lines. Many of these men were servants instead of seasoned warriors."

"I didn't realise servants had been placed on the front lines." Jon frowned.

"They volunteered, my Prince. Repeatedly if I may say so. They were under my command. Do not assume the blame for my decision to give in to their request"

"Then granting their spokesmen some of my attention is the least I can do for them. If I do not have the time, can you send Lord Bolton a message conveying my thanks for their assistance and describe the bravery his men showed in the face of such a fierce enemy?"

"You can count on it my Prince. And I'll summon Nage immediately." The large man bowed and left Jon and Ghost to finish their meal in peace.

Jon's mind once more debated on how random actions could change the fate of men. This time it was not only Jaime Lannister's predicament that occupied his mind, he thought about Rykker, Stokeworth, Domeric Bolton and also about the poor servants that had died trying to regain honour they hadn't really lost in the first place. How many men had already died in his service over the years? He was glad to focus on something else when Lord Umber reappeared with Nage, the spokesman for the Bolton delegation and focussed his attention on hearing what the man came to say.

---

Before he left, Jon briefly took his leave from the leaders of the Free Folk. Gendry, Tormund, Sandor and Ygritte got a more personal goodbye. Stokeworth had tears in his eyes when Jon hugged him and whispered in his ear that if all went well he could expect to receive a royal pardon very soon and if he so desired, that he would always have a position at his court.

Jon sent a scroll to Lord Manderly informing his Master of Ships that he had given the ships docked at the Bay of Ice the order to return to Bear Island. The ships at Hardhome would sail to Eastwatch and stay there another fortnight until things were settled over there.

He also gave Lady Brienne detailed instructions for their travels south. They would sail with the fleet to Eastwatch, hand over a scroll from Jon to the Commander there and then choose three ships to safely sail all the way to Dragonstone. Edric and Loras would of course accompany her. Gendry planned to travel to Winterfell in the company of the small group from Winterfell. He also carried several letters from Jon. He would visit there for a moon or so and then continue south to Dragonstone or King's Landing if all went according to plan.

At first Jon had wanted to send Ghost south with Lady Brienne. But after communicating with his direwolf, it became clear that Ghost would rather travel overland. His direwolf did not even opt to accompany Gendry for the first part of the journey. Ghost clearly preferred to travel at his own speed. Jon was worried for his direwolf's safety but had relented acknowledging the fact that Ghost had a right to make his own decisions. He was not a pet but a companion and a dear friend. He just hoped that his direwolf would not get lost or come to harm on his way south.

Jon felt as if a big weight had fallen off his shoulders the moment his dragons took to the sky and he could leave the North behind. He waved one last time at his friends who had assembled to see him off. He had done his duty and could finally concentrate on his own cause again.

Interlude 33: A pack has only one leader

"You are just parroting what Jon says and does." Robb accused his Uncle.

"I am only thinking of your well-being and of what is best for the North." Benjen Stark tried once more to make his nephew see sense. "Just look at it from Lord Norrey's perspective.

"I don't have to. I am the ruling Warden of the North in absence of my father and I will grant Lord Flint his request. I don't have to consider Lord Norrey's wishes and I certainly am under no obligation to heed your advice."

"All right, I give in, Nephew. Let us not quarrel over such a small issue." Benjen took a step forward prepared to concede once more. It had been a trying few sennights. Robb fought him at every turn. It seemed his stubborn brother had ordered his son and heir to rule the North the same way he did: with absolute authority and relying solely on his own rigid ideas and decisions.

'The Lords of the North are stubborn.' Ned Stark had written to his son. 'Give them a little leeway and they'll never obey you again. The only way to keep them in hand is to rule with an iron fist and never have your edicts second guessed by anyone, not in public, not even in private. Such things have a way of getting out and nobody will respect you if they so much as get a hint that you lean on others to come to a decision.'

Robb stood up leaning his hands on the large desk and towered over his uncle who remained seated. "If it was only this one time, I might give you a free pass, Uncle. But you offer unrequested advice at every opportunity, knowing full well you bestow it to an unwilling recipient and much too frequently. I have tried to be patient, Uncle. But perhaps I am to blame to have let this situation get out of hand. I ask you formally to cease interfering in my business or you will no longer be welcomed in my presence."

"Robb, please sit down again. I understand that …"

He was cut off by Robb's riposte. "Don't you dare tell me one more time that I am tired or not well enough yet. Or perhaps this time you were about to retort that I was not thinking clearly because I have too much on my plate for one so young? Whichever excuse you were going to come up with for what you perceive to be unreasonable behaviour on my account, let me tell you once and for all that I am well again and I am thinking clearly. Just because I have a different opinion than you on some things, doesn't mean that I am the one who is in the wrong. Ever think of that, Uncle?"

Benjen Stark bit his tongue in an effort not to yell at his nephew. His thoughts flitted back to the events in the training yard this morning. It had been abundantly clear how quickly Robb had tired and how frustrated his nephew had been when he had lost the grip on his sword several times and haddropped it like a green boy just starting to learn his first moves.

But Benjen couldn't get around the truth any longer. Things hadn't gone smoothly between him and Robb lately. Robb disagreed with almost every statement that came out of his mouth. Sometimes it seemed that his nephew did it just because he could contradict him. There had been a particular discussion where Benjen had tested this theory. They had debated a problem at the beginning of the meeting and Benjen had leaned one way with his advice to have it contradicted by Robb who instantly changed the subject. When later during the same meeting they returned to the still unresolved topic and Benjen had given the exact opposite advice compared to earlier, Robb had instantly told his uncle he was utterly wrong and had asked Benjen to just let him handle the problem on his own.

He sighed when he saw the stubborn look on Robb's face. "Am I to understand that you are fully recovered and no longer need my presence here at Winterfell?" Benjen did his utmost to keep the bitterness from showing in the tone of his voice.

"I have things under control here and you are free to leave. I know you are itching to go back to my paragon of a cousin. Don't let me keep you." Robb answered and sat back down.

Benjen tried not to flinch and hid how insulted he felt. Ever since he had let it drop that Jon had become betrothed to Princess Daenerys and that it was a love match, Robb had at times shown a slight resentment toward his cousin. It didn't help that Ned was urging his son to consent to a betrothal with Lady Margaery of House Tyrell before allowing the young couple to meet each other first as had previously been agreed.

"Your cousin is putting his life at risk to save the North. He is perhaps on the battlefield as we speak." Benjen kept his voice down but his body language showed his disapprobation.

"I don't want to talk about this any further." Robb sighed. "Just leave me alone for now, Uncle. I still need to respond to all these messages.

Benjen Stark left his chair. "Shall I send for Maester Luwin?"

"No need." Robb answered not looking up. "I have it under control."

---

Two days later at the crack of dawn in the courtyard of Winterfell

"Are you really going all the way South to the Iron Throne, Uncle Benjen? Can I come with you?"
Arya Stark tugged at his coat stopping her uncle from grabbing the reins of his horse. His youngest niece had always been an early riser and she had been sent to bed long before the small farewell feast had been in full swing.

Benjen turned and looked down into her eager eyes. "Perhaps next time, Arya."

"Jon will need me to come visit soon, I am sure of it." Her big eyes pleaded with her uncle to reconsider.

"Then you better wait till you receive his invitation, little one." He smiled at her eagerness.

"I am no longer little. Tell Jon that when you see him. Tell him I will help him get rid of the usurperer." She tugged at his coat to make sure he heeded her words.

"Usurper, Arya. And I won't forget to tell him that, you have my word. But in turn you must promise me to keep training hard and show up in time for your lessons with Maester Luwin. A King's protector not only needs to know how to wield a sword but must be smart and know all the sigils and the allegiances of the houses of the entire realm. That and many more things so you can be a real help to your cousin." He gently wormed his coat out of the strong grip of her little fist.

"I will do my best, Uncle Benjen. Make sure to tell Jon that too." She stepped back so he could grab the reins of his horse.

"It is time that I am off then. Don't forget to write to Jon yourself. I know how much he enjoys receiving a raven from you." He smiled when he saw her nod several times with honest conviction.

Benjen quickly mounted his stallion and spurred it in the direction of the large gate. Leaving the stronghold, he prayed that Robb would be able to cope with everything on his own. He would have to persuade Jon that it was for the best that he left Robb to his own devices. If Jon had only glimpsed a part of Robb's behaviour during the small feast that Catelyn had arranged as a sending off party for him, he would not question Benjen's decision to leave. Robb had hardly spoken a word to his uncle until later in the evening when he was in his cups. In his drunken state, his nephew had made some derogatory remarks that still hurt too much to dwell on. Benjen startled when he heard the large gates of his childhood home close after him.

He took a deep breath and felt the knot in his stomach ease. It was time for a new era to begin. This Stark was travelling south. He urged his horse faster and rode in the direction of the Kingsroad. He had sent out ravens to all his acquaintances for a fresh horse to be readied. He would travel on his own, overland at high speed and would arrive in King's Landing in a record number of days. And at the end of this arduous journey he would find a nephew who would welcome him with open arms and who would be grateful and very happy to have his company and advice.

---

End notes:
Next chapter will take place at King's Landing.
The interlude on the other hand will show us how Tyrion is faring at Casterly Rock.