Another untold story from a Song of Ice and Fire. What happens after Alys Karstark and Sigorn Thenn are married?

Sigorn kissed his young wife's dark locks as he hugged her tight. "I swore to keep you warm all your days," he said. "And I always wanted a castle of my own."

Alys reached up at her husband, placing her arm around his shoulder. "My Lord, Karhold is my brother's though, unless-"

"I know not how your politics go in the south, but in the north, the moment they would hear of this, he would die." It pained him to say it. Were his wife's southern ways rubbing off on to him?

He could see his bride's face fall at that.

"Do not weep for him yet," he said. Outside the tent, the first rate of the sun were poking their way in. Dawn had come. He pulled his smallclothes on, followed by a breeches, a tunic and an arming doublet with mailed sleeves and sides. Over it went his secret wedding gift from Jon Snow, a suit of mail-and-plate, from the hidden armories of Castle Black. The Coif went over his head, and a Bascinet, completed with a pointed visor, currently locked in the up position. Over the breastplate went his tabard, with the Sigil of House Thenn on it, a bronze disk ringed with flames on white, echoing the sunburst of his wife's house. Free Folk did not use heraldry, but then again, the Thenns were different.

The Karstark in the Ice Cells of Castle Black had also carried a sword with the pommel engraved like sunburst. Sigorn had taken it as well, for castle-forged steel blades were prized amongst the Free Folk as well, and the pommel just as well could have been a flaming disk.

Alys kissed the Longsword's blade as she handed it to him. "Take my uncle's head," she said. "He always did want a kiss from me."

Sigorn smiled, taking the sword and sheathing it at his side. "You have my word." He kissed her one last time, trying not to get distracted by her beautiful body. "You should dress," he said. "I don't want to be stuck here all day." She nodded and began to dress, albeit so provocatively that if Sigorn had not been all cased in armor, he probably would have taken here right there and then.

He mounted his horse and rode through the small camp of Thenns and the dozen odd Karstark men that had joined him.

Raljar handed him the peace banner, a weirwood staff topped with palm branches, and the Magnar rode forth to the gates of Karhold. High on the battlements he could see men with bows at the ready, but none loosed any arrows at him.

The gates opened, and Sigorn found himself face to face with an old man, bent nearly double with age and hunch.

"Who are you and what do you want?" the man asked.

"I am Sigorn Thenn, Magnar of Karhold. I come for what is mine."

The man shook his head. "Karhold belongs to Lord Arnolf," he said. "Not you, wildling."

"Lady Alys is Lady of Karhold," the Magnar replied, his patience growing thin. "She is my wife. Let me pass, or I will have your head for disobeying an order."

Nobody moved for some time. Then the old man stepped aside.

"Thank you," Sigorn said. "Where is Arnolf?" He asked, looking around.

"He went to Stannis, with two thousand men," the old man replied. "He'll come back with his head."

Sigorn grimaced. "I know."

Lady Alys was left behind with twenty Thenns to guard the castle, while the Magnar led the rest of the men on a rapid march south, to try to catch Stannis before Arnolf sprung his trap.

They reached Winterfell within a Month, which was amazing time, if you removed the fact that every man had been equipped with a set of "bear paws". The Thenns had stripped Karhold's armory clean as well, taking every scrap of steel they found, and dividing it up. Every man had a steel headed spear, so that was good, and many had gotten boiled leather jackets as well, so that was better, and a quarter of his Thenns had byrnies and held and swords, and that made everything even better.

Stannis was nowhere in sight, but the Giant of Umber flew over the battlements between the Direwolf of Stark and the flaming stag of the King, so that was a good sign. There were other signs that Sigorn did not recognize: a sword and star on lilac, a silver fish on red and black, a river in white, a pick and sword and greathelm on green, and merman on blue-green. above all flew a three headed red Dragon on black.

Jon Snow rode out to meet them, no longer dressed in the blacks of the crows, but in silvery mail with the Stark Direwolf on his surcoat, the beast in question walking silently beside him. Two women and three men rode behind them.

"Hail Magnar of Thenn," Jon called. The three men behind him raised their hands in salute.

"I suppose you are my cousin now," Sigorn said. Jon nodded. They rode beside one another now.

Jon turned to the riders behind him. "Forgive me if I return to the castle. I must needs offer our guest bread and salt, as guest right is sacrosanct here in the North." The three men nodded in their helm and rode off, while the women followed Jon and the Magnar.

They broke bread in the Lords solar, which was empty save for a map of the entire continent.

"You are late," Jon said, "if you meant to join the battle. It was five days past, at dawn."

The Magnar smiled grimly. "We came to strip the corpses. My men need mail, swords, axes, shields, helms, and the like, and Karhold's armory is cleaned out."

Jon shook his head. "We may have some more gear here. We lost some, but all of Bolton's dead have been stripped already."

There was a knock at the door.

"My Lord, it's lady Stark and her brother," came the guard's voice.

"Send them in," Jon said, his voice filled with emotion.

When the Magnar turned around, his King was before him. Not the stag king, but the King-Beyond-the-Wall.