Chapter Eight: Alliances

Unknown POV—Beyond the Wall—Two months later

"Everyone is here. Good." An ancient and oily voice said, coming from a White Walker taller than the rest with a stone crown frozen on his head. His voice sounded gravelly and cold, evil, like a knife being slowly scraped over a stone. The other eleven white walkers, Titans in truth as their spirit held dominance inside the twelve most powerful walkers, became still at his words. They stood in a cave-like room, around a stone pedestal encased in ice, otherwise empty except for a throne in the back of the room where their leader sat. Behind the throne was a door that they knew led to the depths of Tartarus where their leader's soul and true body was imprisoned until the gods had been destroyed.

"My lord Kronos." The Walker to his right, the titan Atlas, said in respect. The others followed suit. To any human it would sound like a screech, but anyone with godly power would understand their speech as they were created in the same manner that created the humans, but imbued with a completely different type of power, with more divinity imbuing them as well.

"The time is drawing near. Summon your thralls." Kronos said to them.

"But, my lord, the Wall! The gods and wards!" One of them protested. Iapetus it was.

"No concern to us. They have strengthened recently, yes, but they are every bit as weak as they once were with no children to act through except a few talentless legacies spread throughout the kingdoms." Kronos answered with a slight edge to his tone. "As for the wall, I will break the wards, and the wall."

"The soldiers we have are breakable." Atlas said slowly.

"Yet numerous. We can create more at will as well. There will be many buried dead south of the wall." Said Kronos in return. Atlas nodded.

"We aren't ready!" Oceanus cried out.

"Yes we are!" Hyperion answered loudly.

"They could unite and win!"

"Small chance of that! They can't even unite without enemies, and if they do, we will smash them!"

"Not if they learn how to kill the wights! What if the gods interfere?" Oceanus shot back.

"Then we kill them too! These forms are superior to the human forms the gods use. The humans will die from the wights, or cold, or hunger! We have many options to choose from." Hyperion said in response.

"ENOUGH!" Kronos shouted. All fell silent immediately. "I have given the order. We will begin our move now. You will all do your duty. Gather the wights and send the wildlings at the wall first. Tell them they will be spared if they take the wall for us, and they may have the South once it is taken."

"Send forth my armies. This time we will kill them all. To the South!"

Jon POV—Three months later

Finally, after five months, the army had been replenished, mostly retrained, outfitted, and well-provisioned. Jon had also spent much of their new wealth to resupply all of the Northern castles and strongholds.

Jon had received replies to two of the letters he had sent, from the Martells and the Baratheons. It worried him that he had not received one from the Tyrells, but perhaps when this was over he should look to the other houses for a wife. The Martells had accepted his marriage proposal for Sansa, asking that she be wed to Prince Doran Martell. He knew this would please Sansa despite the man's handicap. She would be pampered and spoiled, and able to rule, and the sexual aspect would only be able to occur at her own pace.

The Baratheons had accepted his offer of Arya for Renly as well, though he did not know how that would turn out as yet. He hoped they would allow her to do as she pleased after the bedding, but it was in the air. This marriage would only occur in a year or so after she had bled. They would travel soon, first to Dorne and then to the Stormlands or King's Landing, whichever the Baratheons occupied at the time. He had heard of the attack on the capital but did not know who had succeeded. He knew Tyrion Lannister to be a cunning man despite being a dwarf, and despite being enemies with the Lannisters he hoped he had survived.

A celebratory feast had occurred after the news had been spread of the impending marriages and alliances. Jon had also instructed his commanders to form a strong party of two hundred men on horseback to escort them to the weddings. All would be ready within the hour. Along with the men and himself, Lady Catelyn, Sansa, Arya, and Lord Umber would go with them. He had arranged for a good amount of supplies as well. It still snowed occasionally, though it gave them fortunate breaks once in a while. This meant that it would be difficult traveling through the North, but after the Moat things should start becoming warmer and drier the further South they got. If worst came to it, Jon could always use his powers to melt the snow and possibly to create food, though he couldn't do this for more than around twenty people if that.

Around an hour later, the people gathered at the gates to see them off. Jon left Bran in charge, though he ordered him to listen to his commander above all. They rode out, with about fifty guards going in the front, fifty on each side, the nobles in the center, the supply wagons behind them, and fifty guards behind that. It was slow progress due to the snow, but they made out well that day, and made camp as night began to fall. As the Stark family and Lord Umber sat outside their tents around a fire that night eating a hot supper, Sansa spoke.

"What-what if I am not wife material. Joffrey beat me, Tywin had me r-raped…" Here Sansa faltered a moment before continuing. "What if I don't know how to be a good wife?"

"You will, my sweet girl." Lady Catelyn answered her daughter. She set her food down and walked over to hug her tightly. "These things did not happen because you are a bad person. These things happened because they are bad men. They did not deserve to have you near them, and you did not deserve what they did to you."

"You'll never worry about Tywin again sister. He is dead. I saw to that myself." Jon assured her. "We heard that the Baratheons have taken the capital, which likely means Joffrey is dead or a prisoner. Even if that is not true, once the Martells have you as their Princess, you will never have to worry about someone harming you again. Everyone knows better than to defy or invade Dorne."

Sansa cried a moment, but with each word she seemed to perk up slightly. Jon's mother had done wonders on Sansa's confidence in her body, looks, and womanly abilities, but she was ill suited to help her emotionally save advice on relationships in general. Inside, Sansa was still a scared little girl, and Jon had to remind himself she was only fourteen, and thus only just becoming a woman. The Martells would treat her well though, and he suspected that next they saw her, she would be a completely different woman.

The next few months were spent with long cold days traveling, and short nights of little warmth and comfort. Arya spent all day asking Jon questions and he answered them as best he could. It ranged from what her future family was like to the landscape, to the battles that he had been part of. At first her curiosity amused him, but after two months, it annoyed him a bit. Fortunately, she had grown bored of her questions and now spent her time speaking to Sansa in hushed tones. After those two months of travel, they reached the Moat.

A week was spent here. The first night, a feast was held by the Lord of the Moat, and they ate until they were full and drank much wine and ale. They rested well that night and all the others, warm and full for the first time in months. They resupplied and Jon sent out letters alerting the Martells they were on their way. They would not remain totally unnoticed he was sure but using stealth and his powers while in the wilds or on the road, Jon was hoping for an easy trip with no issues.

The plan from here was simple. They would follow the Kingsroad south until they hit castle Darry. They would rest a few nights there, top off their supplies, then continue on the Kingsroad, stopping as frequently as needed and possible, until they reach Kings Landing. After determining who sat the iron throne, they would proceed into the city. They would spend a week there, discussing matters and resupplying, and would charter a ship. The ship would take them to Sunspear, where Sansa would be married. Jon estimated their journey over the road would take about two months as the snows grew less common and the road became easier. He assumed the ship journey would take a month from there but was too unsure of how sea travel worked despite the fact that Poseidon would likely assist them and ensure their safety. Beyond that, all depended on whether Arya had bled yet or not. Her time would be very soon, his mother assured him.

He hoped so, he thought to himself as he rode out. He wanted his sisters safe and out of the North for the duration of winter, and whatever else the gods were alluding to when they spoke to him. Along the way back home, he would show off some of his powers, hopefully influencing more in the south to pray to the old gods. They had the ladies in a wheelhouse he had built for this occasion, and were proceeding slowly, so Jon settled into his thoughts for what he assumed would be a long journey.

Three months later

It had taken every bit of the three months Jon had estimated. They now stood in front of the gates of Kings Landing, ruled by Stannis Baratheon who now sat the throne. A hard man, Stannis, but fair he had heard. He certainly hoped so. The moment they had reached the gates, they had been summoned before the king as their guards and carts were taken to a manse in the city, less the four guards Jon commanded to accompany them. He ordered Lord Umber to go with the rest, to oversee everything and to gather supplies for the remainder of their journey.

Jon entered the throne room, followed by Arya, Sansa, Lady Catelyn, and their four guards. On the iron throne sat Stannis, King Stannis Baratheon he was now, First of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, and Lord of the Realm. Jon, as King of the North, did not bow or kneel as the others did. Stannis did not seem bothered, or surprised.

"Rise." Stannis commanded the others. He then surprised everyone in the throne room by rising from his throne and descending the steps to stand in front of Jon. The kingsguard followed mere steps behind, hands on their weapons in case Jon were to try anything.

"Your grace." Jon said, inclining his head respectfully. Stannis nodded to him but did not say anything. He was silent a long moment before suddenly nodding again and speaking.

"You do not renounce the claim to the title King in the North then? Would you split the seven kingdoms when we could have peace for the first time in history with the upcoming marriage between your house and mine?" Stannis asked him. He sounded more curious than angry, however. Puzzled, even. Jon answered him, choosing his words carefully.

"Many wars there have been in the past, much of them between the north and south of the Neck.. We in the North have bent the knee when needed, but we have never been included in the kingdoms affairs, not truly. I have bettered the northern castles and cities, even the villages. We are truly nearly self-sustaining or will be in the near future. I think, your grace, it is time the north and south stop fighting, and that we stop pretending the north is part of the realm. I request, peacefully, we be granted independence from the throne in order to make our own decisions, but also to create an alliance between the two kingdoms through marriage."

"I know men far older, wiser, and more intelligent than you or I, Jon Stark, who would have been far too cowardly to ask for such a demanding thing as you have." Stannis replied harshly. Then, his tone softened. "You have all fought hard, won many battles, and if it were not for you and your people I may have never won the throne had Tywin Lannister shown up with a Lannister army at his back. A king should try to keep his kingdoms happy, intact, see to justice and safety of all within his realm, obey and honor all the gods, and lead by example. A king should also reward good service."

"That is why I, Stannis Baratheon, First of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, and Protector of the realm, hereby grant the Northern Realms, above the Neck, their independence of the Iron Throne and the now six kingdoms as a reward for services rendered to the realm. I name Jon Stark as King in the North and recognize him as such. I also announce that a godswood shall be installed in every castle and city in the six kingdoms as a sign of both respect and religious freedom in all the realms, in addition to an alliance between the two kingdoms as my brother, Lord and Renly Baratheon shall wed Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell as soon as she is of proper age."

Jon looked at him in wonder for a moment. He had wondered if they would have another war, for their independence this time. He smiled then, a true smile, as he took Stannis' hand as an equal as all bowed around them. When they all stood and he released Stannis' hand, he spoke.

"Your grace, we are on our way to Dorne to fulfill another marriage contract for my other sister, the Lady Sansa Stark to Prince Doran Martell. We are in need of a ship to take us, and perhaps an escort if you could spare such a thing." Jon said as well as he could. Being raised a bastard still left him awkward around nobles, but he had training from the gods, specifically Zeus and his mother on how to speak as royalty and be diplomatic.

"I am sure something could be found for you. It may take some time, however, as most of my ships are in the midst of trade routes and fighting off the Stepstone pirates. Come, I am sure you are weary and in need of rest and food. You shall have both. A tower has been prepared for you and your companions, with servants and every comfort we could manage." Stannis replied. He gestured at a waiting servant as well as a kingsguard member who bowed and escorted them to their quarters.

This reminded Jon that he needed to create his own kingsguard now. Though he undoubtedly could handle himself, it would be nice not to need to at all times, not to mention his family and future children and wife would need a royal guard. He also had to think of what future kings may need, as he knew he would not rule forever. He would have to hold a tournament perhaps, or something similar in which people could fight for the honor of a position. It would be right up there on his to-do list along with eventually building a school to send the children to learn to read, write, do mathematics, and learn basic knowledge before getting an apprenticeship or job elsewhere in every castle.

He set all that aside for the moment as he reached his room and noticed a steaming bath ready for him with a gorgeous blonde woman undressing beside it. A kingly welcome indeed, particularly as Stannis did not normally care for whores. The man must have anticipated the turnout of their meeting earlier and heard of his earlier debauchery in his younger years. He shrugged. He had a week and it had been a very long time indeed. He moved forward with a smile that quickly turned hungry as he undressed as well.

Three months later

It had taken longer than anticipated, both to get a ship and escort and to get to Dorne. He truly had misunderstood the time it took to get places by sea, as he had not fully understood possible complications even when the gods were assisting them, like the first mate getting drunk and trying to rebel against their captain. He was killed and dumped overboard quickly, but it delayed things as the captain chose a new first mate. Would that the Lord Hand, Davos Seaworth, had been available. The man would have had them there in half the time.

None of that mattered now though, as Jon stood ready to give Sansa away in his royal wedding garb of red and black silk. His hair had been washed and tamed, beard trimmed, and he had been cleaned head to toe before the ceremony as he was to give Sansa away. Sansa, for her part, looked every bit the beautiful bride, a true lady, and for the first time in Jon's eyes, uncomfortably womanly. He saw her as a little sister, someone to protect, and so hated that she could still provoke the same reactions in him as she could most men. She wore a grey silk dress, with a direwolf sown onto the skirt area. The back of her dress was wide open, showing the skin of her entire back to just above her lower back, low-cut in the front, and daringly showing parts of her shapely legs as she walked as well. Stark colors and sigil, yet dornish style. It was fitting, given her new status as of now.

Her nervousness seemed gone as she took his arm and they regally proceeded down the aisles of guests. It seemed half of Dorne had appeared to see their Prince remarry. The feast would certainly be worth the travel at the least being five courses, but if that wasn't enough then the three-day tournament being held would most assuredly make the journey worthwhile. Jon sort of wished he could participate but knew he could not. He would satisfy himself by making bets.

They stopped at the large platform that the Prince's guards had placed he and his chair upon earlier. As the ceremony proceeded, Jon made sure he gave the appearance of paying close attention. In reality, his mind had wondered far, wondering if he would ever get to have an elaborate ceremony with a beautiful wife. Lord Tyrell, from what he had heard thus far, had sent no word on his position on things despite the Lannisters being all but broken. Tyrion Lannister, to his delight, had been spared by Stannis and sent to Casterly Rock to restore peace and order. Though his father and sister hated him, Tyrion had cared for Jaime and the same was true in reverse. He had said he held no ill will toward Jon for his actions, but Stannis nor Jon believed that was true. They had agreed that as long as Tyrion let things be, they would leave he and the Lannisters alone, even allowing him to become Warden of the West since his father had passed.

Sansa was soon married off and before long they were all seated on the platform where they had been married. Several guards had lifted an intricately carved table onto the platform, and all guests of any standing and honor were seated there. There were long tables, small circular tables, and even some small square tables positioned around the gardens where the ceremony had taken place. Noblemen and women, and even a few smallfolk were present, along with much entertainment being provided in the center of it all in front of the platform. Sansa and her new husband both sat watching the entertainment and smiling while they spoke. It would take time, but Jon could already see her becoming very happy here.

He had paid close attention when the entertainment began, because the feast they now ate was the beginning of the entertainment. Carried by six straining men, and split between two poles, came a whole roast ox, steaming and hot from the fires. The six men laid it upon a flat board in the open space in front of the platform where all the guests could see it. One of the men who had carried the ox stepped forward and unsheathed a sword, while the other guests gasped, and Jon watched the man carefully. Only Sansa saw the smile her new husband hid.

With a flourish, the man slashed into the ox and split its belly open. Sausages spilled out like entrails, and there were many hot, steaming onions and herbs stuffed into the animal as well. Two of the other men then rushed to the split ox and pulled out a whole sheep, roasted inside the ox. With another swing of the sword, the sheep's belly was split open, and the men pulled out a roasted pig. The swordsman turned to the guests with a knowing wink and mock sigh of exasperation, and then swung his blade again. Out of the pig came a cooked kid goat and many baked apples stuffing the empty spaces around it. Again and again the sword swung, and out of each animal came a smaller one; a fat goose, a chicken, and finally a partridge and pheasant.

When the whole mouth-watering meal was laid out, servants came out with roasted fish, many tureens and bowls of soups and stews, salads, fruit, vegetables, hot fresh bread of every kind, more side dishes, and steaming hot pies and cakes. One big cake was also brought out at that time, a wedding cake clearly, in the shape of a direwolf with a small red sun over it. Wine, ale, milk, and water were all brought forth as well. The musicians, at a signal, launched into a merry tune and the six who brought out the meat sprang forward with knives. Soon, every guest was tucking into a favored joint or slice from a favored animal. The gardens filled with the sounds of music, laughter, conversation, and general merry making.

Jon raised his glass to Prince Doran. The man had put on quite the show and given Jon a few ideas of his own for his wedding someday. It had been a marvelous sight. Now he had Dorne safely on his side, along with Stannis who spoke for the Six Kingdoms, and the North backing him. Things were looking up, and he would breathe even easier once Arya's wedding finally occurred. Arya had finally bled three nights ago and would be ready for marriage as soon as they returned to the capital.

For now, he planned to enjoy himself and the succulent piece of roast pig he was currently eating. Maybe he would even allow himself to seek out entertainment of the female kind later that evening to celebrate in his own way…