Jon

Jon sat in his solar, examining Dark Sister. Valyrian steel indeed. It was a longsword with a slender blade. The hilt of gilded steel felt thin but he supposed that would make sense: it belonged to Visenya Targaryen when she, Rhaenys & Aegon conquered the Seven Kingdoms, so the sword was designed for a woman's grip. But Jon thought that wouldn't matter much, so long as a male wielding it got used to the narrower handle by sparring with it. The gilded crossguard was fashioned to look like dragon wings that curled into the blade, with a ruby at the center. The pommel was shaped to look like a roaring flame. Soft, golden brown leather was wrapped around the handle, allowing for an adequate grip.

"A fine sword, Your Grace, " Brienne commmented, standing tall in front of Jon's desk, wearing her dark blue tunic with Oathkeeper on her hip. She was the first of the four people he'd summoned to turn up for a meeting. It was the day following Bran's arrival and Jon unfortunately couldn't linger in Winterfell, he needed to get to the Wall. This meeting was the last busniess he was attending to before he left.

"It is," Jon agreed. "The only problem I have is deciding who to give to."

"Perhaps you could give it to Princess Sansa," Brienne suggested, "given you are having her trained to wield a sword."

Jon frowned undecisively. "I don't know. While I wouldn't mind giving it to her, I would rather give it to someone more skilled, more experienced, to maximise the effectiveness of the weapon." He picked up the scabbard that lied on his desk and covered the blade with it, then placed the sword on the table. "Tell me about Jaime Lannister. Would he be willing to speak to me about bring an army north?" Jon had been so busy the last few weeks, organising the trip to the Wall; even he was surprised this was the only free moment he'd had to finally talk to Brienne about the Kingslayer.

"If the opportunity arrives, I think Ser Jamie would speak to you, Your Grace. He's an honourable man despite his reputation," Brienne told him. "I believe were I to vouch for your claim when you ask him to bring his army north, he would."

"But he'd still need Cersei's approvial," Jon stated. "There's little chance of her answering a plea for help from the North now I've refused to swear fealty to her."

"If Jamie were convinced, he'd answer your plea regardless of what Cersei thought."

"Then I'll think about how to arrange a meeting between me and him."

"There's a chance for him to take his army North to help the Freys search for Princess Arya, Your Grace. While he's at the Twins the two of us could travel down to Moat Cailin and summon him there."

"That's if he goes to the Twins. And you are Sansa's sworn sword. I don't want you to leave her while Littlefinger is skulking around Winterfell." He rubbed a bit of dust from his eye. "What I'll do is send a raven to Moat Cailin to report when Jaime goes to the Twins. They still have scouts patrolling the northern most parts of the Riverlands and are bound to hear word of Ser Jaime's arrivial should it happen. I will only bring you if Littlefinger ceases to be a threat."

"If that is your wish, Your Grace."

"Remember to keep an eye on him and stay close to Sansa while I'm at the Wall."

"Of course."

The door was soon knocked upon and Brienne walked over as Jon poured himself a cup of water. Upon her opening the door, Brienne turned back round and said, "Princess Sansa, Prince Bran & Lord Royce, Your Grace."

"Let them in." Jon watched as Brienne stepped aside. Sansa pushed Bran in on his wheelchair: a carpenter & a blacksmith from Wintertown had been commissioned to make it when it was known Bran was coming to Winterfell. Jon was pleased to see an arming sword on Sansa's hip, clearing she was taking her training seriously. His two siblings were followed in by Lord Royce, who closed the door behind him. "Princess Sansa, Lord Royce, Lady Brienne, please all take a seat." The four of them gathered round the table and Jon moved over from his desk to join them after finishing his cup of water.

"Thank you all for seeing me today," Jon began. "As you know, today I leave for the Wall. Lord Royce, I must ask before we continue, do you trust me?"

"I may not approve of your choice to invite the wildlings south of the Wall but you are a son of Ned Stark," Lord Royce replied. "He was a good friend. I would never suspect he'd raise an untrustworthy son."

"I remember when you two sparred during your stop here on your journey taking Waymar to the Wall. If you hadn't have been using a blunt sword then I fear you would have taken off his arm." The jape prompted a chuckle from Lord Royce, as well as Bran & Sansa. Jon returned to a serious expression before continuing. "From this moment and until I say otherwise, I need all of you to promise that what we talk about will only ever be discussed with the people in this room at this moment in time."

Lord Royce recognised the seriousness of Jon's tone and agreed. "You have my word, Your Grace." The other three followed promptly.

"At this moment in time, the biggest threat that House Stark faces, other than the White Walkers, his Lord Baelish. Do you trust him Lord Royce?"

"Only a fool would trust Littlefinger."

"And if a situation were to arise where you had to choose between serving him and myself, who would you choose?"

"You are the King I have delcared for. My King comes before my Lord Protector. And I will side with any Stark before I side with that weasle of a man."

"And will the Knights of the Vale act on your command before they do Lord Baelish's?"

"They will. Littlefinger is still considered an outsider in the Vale from the ravens I've been sent by my fellow lords & ladies. Before they left the Vale, every man was told to follow my orders above Littlefinger's should the situation arise where they needed to choose."

"Princess Sansa, if you would."

"King Jon and I have spoken about this matter and have come to the conclusion that Littlefinger is too dangerous to be left alive. He has admitted to me that his ultimate goal is to see himself on the Iron Throne with me as his wife." Jon saw the shock pass over the three other faces at the final detail. "I know it is because he sees me as a replacement for my mother. Littlefinger will see becoming King of the North as a step toward the Iron Throne. To become King of the North, his only option is forcing me to marry him and seeing Bran & Jon removed."

"That is something I don't mean to let happen," Jon followed. "If I die, so be it, but I will not have Bran killed and I will not have Sansa forced into another marriage she does not want. To beat Littlefinger, we must play him at his own game."

"I've spoken with the steward, head housekeeper, Captain of the guard and Master-at-arms," Sansa continued. "All have agreed to get there staff to relay anything they hear Littlefinger say that might hint at his intentions. I would ask you to do the same, Lord Royce. Any information you can give me will be put to good use."

"Certainly, My Lady," Lord Royce agreed, then asked, "May I ask why else I might have been involved with this?"

"Quite simply, Lord Royce, I am putting you in charge of military operations while I'm away," Jon answered. "Of course you will answer to Princess Sansa, but otherwise you will be in command of every last soldier, guard and man-at-arms currently staying in & near Winterfell. Before I leave I will order Littlefinger to remain in Winterfell, he's had every chance to leave but has chosen to linger. Now I want him where we can keep an eye on him. If Littlefinger tries to leave while I'm away, remind him his king ordered him to remain in Winterfell. If he tries to leave again after that, throw him in a cell. Following that, if he tries to escape, mount his head and the heads of anyone who aids him on spikes above the northern gate so that I can see it when I return."

Jon's order managed to shock Lord Royce & Brienne. "I believe these orders are rather extreme, Your Grace. Would you not rather he simply be beheaded?" he asked, concerned.

"I learned when I was stabbed and killed by my own men that if my leadership is to be respected, I have to be extreme to those who would go against my orders."

"If you want Littlefinger dead I can provoke him into to leaving," Bran suggested. "I can find something that he did in the past that I would have no reason to know unless I could see the past. I think him smart enough to realise that to stay here would be futile once he knew that I could find any wrong doings he's done." Jon gave single nod. He believed Bran was telling the truth about being able to see the past. It wasn't a very far fetched idea considering all the things Jon had seen in his life.

"Can I ask where the honour is in tricking a man into disobeying an order?" Brienne asked.

"He has already openly discussed treason with me since Jon was named King," Sansa answered. "I've even said to him that I'd be within my rights to have him executed. The only reason I didn't was because this was a private conversation and I would rather have him more openly commit treason before having him executed. I want to be able to provide proof of it."

"Very well," Brienne accepted with a satisfied tone.

A brief moment of silence was followed by Jon saying, "If that is all that needs to be said, then this meeting is ended. Princess Sansa, please go to the rookery and write a scroll to Moat Cailin ordering them to report when Jaime Lannister has moved north to the Riverlands. Lord Royce, please find Lord Baelish and tell him to find me in the Godswood."

"Certainly, Your Grace," Sansa complied

"It will be done, Your Grace," Lord Royce told him.

The five of them dispanded. While Sansa and Lord Royce saw to the tasks Jon had set them, he and Brienne helped Bran down to the courtyard. Meera had been waiting for him there, lazily sparring with another girl under the watch of a group of men-at-arms, following Jon's order of every able bodied person being taught to fight. She pushed Bran away and Brienne left Jon to find Sansa after she was done in the rookery.

Jon made his way through the castle grounds to the Godswood, walking the path to the Weirwood tree. There he knelt before the Old Gods and said his last prayer before he'd return to Winterfell: Old Gods of the North, see me safe to the Wall. While I'm not at Winterfell, watch over Sansa & Bran for me. Keep them safe. I trust Sansa will rule the North well in my staed, none the less I ask you to her give the same wisdom I've asked for every time I've prayed. Jon ceased his prayer when he heard light footsteps approaching, crunching into the cold, soft snow. He stood and turned round to see Littlefinger walking towards him.

"Forgive me, Your Grace," he said in his permanent whisper. Jon looked him dead in the eye. "I did not wish to interrupt your prayer. I know you've taken to doing so each morning."

"Spare your false courtesy, Lord Baelish," Jon said, his voice cold. "I've summoned you here to give you orders for while I'm away."

"I will be happy to accept them."

"Since you have lingered in Winterfell despite my order to return to the Vale, it's clear you wish not to leave. As such, you are to remain in the castle while I am delivering the prisoners to the Wall. If you do leave, I have given orders on how you are to be dealt with."

No change came to Littlefinger's face. He replied calmly, "I have no intentions to leave. So long as Princess Sansa is here, I will be here to give her adivce if she asks for it."

"I think you mean to say Catelyn, of course, that's who you see her as." While Littlefinger's face remained still, Jon could see the unease in his eyes. "You have my thanks for seeing Sansa safe from King's Landing and you have my thanks for aiding me & my men when we were surely dead. But you sold Sansa to a sadistic bastard who tortured her for fun and you want her for your wife. If you leave Winterfell or make moves to remove me and Bran before forcing Sansa to marry you, I will have no choice but to have you executed for treason."

"Forgive me My King, I would say that you too see someone else in your sister," Baelish replied, taking a step forward. "I was able to speak to that Tormund character before he went off to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. He told me how he came to meet you, even told me of the spearwife you snuck off with one night and what colour hair she had." Jon felt a sneer forming on his face. "One might think with all that time you spent away from her, you stopped seeing Sansa as your sister. Once she appeared at Castle Black, with a stronger will than ever and hair kissed by fire, you might have begun to see her as a lover and not a sibling."

Jon did not react with violence: that would be exactly what Littlefinger wanted. "If you take me for some vile bastard who wants to see his sister in his bed, then you are a very poor judge of character, My Lord. And you have no right to speak about Ygritte. "

"But how will the northern lords react when they hear their king lied with a wildling? While they have accepted them being this side of the Wall, it is certain that some still don't like them. And this happened when you were still held to your Night's Watch vows."

"I don't care. I'll tell them the truth of it. I was following orders given to me by a superior."

He walked past Littlefinger – not allow a reply – and back down the path that led to the archway. Ghost sat waitng in front of the arch when Jon emgered. The direwolf received a pet on the head before the pair of them found their way to where the black cloaks who'd brought Bran & Meera were mounting up. The carriages he'd requested were being loaded with barrells of water & pitch as well as all the prisioners that had been in the Winterfell dungeon and the Wintertown lock up. He was brought his horse by a stablehand. Jon looked to the walkway running along the side of the keep and spotted Sansa, watching the men preparing to leave with Brienne standing beside her. After he met Sansa's eyes, she said a word to Brienne then made her way down into the courtyard and toward Jon.

"Winterfell is yours, Princess Sansa," Jon told her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Look after it while I'm gone."

Sansa handed him a raven scroll. "Lord Manderly and Lord Davos have departed White Harbour. They should arrive on Dragonstone in at least two weeks if the winds are kind."

"That's good," Jon said, handing back the scroll. "It means we're like to have a supply of dragonglass arriving in at least a month and a half." Sansa pocketed the scroll.

"Don't die while you're up north. Half of them will want your head for being named King and there's every possiblity Littlefinger has a man amoung the men going with you." Ghost nuzzled into her side. She replied by scatching behind the direwolf's ear.

"I'll have Edd with me."

He heard a horse walk up behind him and Edd saying, "Aye. You will." Edd looked down at Sansa. "Don't worry, Sansa. If he dies again, I'll kill him."

Sansa chuckled, scratching underneath Ghost's chin. She put her tongue in her cheek and said, "If he dies again, I'll help you."

"You two are discussing treason," Jon said with an ironic smile, switching his attention between the two of them. "I could take your heads off for it." The three of them chuckled and Jon returned his attention to Sansa. "I'm going to miss you."

"It's the same for me," Sansa assured him. "Aren't you going to wear your crown to the Wall?"

"Half of the brothers would steal it and the rest of them will bring back an old joke."

"King Snow," Edd followed with his own ironic smile. Jon gave him a grave look.

"Don't start." Edd moved of as Jon returned his gaze to Sansa, "Remember what to do if Baelish tries to leave."

"I'll order the guards to find me if he does."

Jon smiled. "I don't know what else to say. Keep warm. Don't burn down the castle." Sansa chuckled and Jon saw she was beginning to tear up. "I promise to be home in a month."

"Not a day later," Sansa replied, a sadness filling her tone. Jon brought her into his arms and held her tight.

"Not a day later," Jon promised. Leaving the embrace, he kissed her forehead. "You can throw me in a cell if am."

Sansa grinned, letting out a laugh. "I'll hold you to that."

Jon grinned as well. "I believe you would."

"Now get on your horse and leave, before I decide that Edd can escort the men by himself."

He pulled himself onto his horse, a garron that could handle the long distance in poor weather. "Farewell, Sansa."

"Farewell, Jon." Sansa crouched down to hug Ghost before kissing him on his mussle. The direwolf's reply was the licking he gave her face. She chuckled. "Look after Jon," she told Ghost.

Jon brought his horse around, walking it to Edd's side. The train of horses & carriages was ready, so Jon put his heels into his horse, beginning his journey to the Wall. Once outside the gate, he took note of the workers beginning to dig up snow and dirt with large spades. He smiled knowing that by the time he was back the trench would have made good progress. Ghost passed in-between Jon and Edd to lead the train leaving the castle. Instinctively, Jon looked behind him and up to the ramparts above the gate. Sansa had moved from the courtyard was now watching him ride away from the castle. He raised his hand high into the air as a final farewell. She did the same. Looking behind her, Jon saw the towers of Winterfell – their roofs being rebuilt at higher angles – and the red comet that had appeared when Jeor Mormont had lead the great ranging beyond the Wall.