He knew that there was no way he was going to make it out of this place alive. The moment Rhaegal was injured and out of battle, the moment the gates of Winterfell fell, he knew there was little chance of him surviving to see the sunrise the next day. The grip on his sword Longclaw tightened and his grey hues fixed a glare on the skeletal dragon before him. Viserion was once an ally who flew beyond the wall with his brothers and mother, and he had died there trying to rescue him and his comrades. Now he was one of the Night King's slaves, his steed into this battle.

"Come on then you lousy lizard" Jon grit his teeth, and charged with a war cry. Viserion's jaws hung loose and he unleashed a torrent of blue fire. The heat hit Jon first before he was engulfed in the flames.

Jon woke with a gasp, sitting up so fast that the world around him spun for a moment. His hand shot out and he grasped the oddly warm stone walls of his room. His eyes screwed shut and he took deep calming breaths. Calm down, it was just a night terror, he thought to himself. Yet it felt more than just a night terror. He could remember every detail of what he had seen in it. He remembered the emotions behind it. He was afraid, resigned to his fate and determined. He was determined to take that dragon down.

A shiver ran down his spine as the image of the dragon came to him. What had he been thinking in his dreams?! Charging at the dragon-like it was some dummy made of straw for training. He shook his head to push the thought aside. His eyes finally opened and he looked out his window to see that the night was about to break. There was no going back to sleep now.

-Winterfell Training Yard-

"Go on, father's watching" Jon spoke to a ten-year-old Bran who was preparing to shoot an arrow at the target. His eyes shifted to the balcony above for a moment, "and your mother" he added softly. Bran nods his head, takes aim and misses the target horribly. Robb let out a bark of laughter while Jon cracked an amused smile.

"And which one of you was a master marksman at ten?" their father barked out sternly before encouraging Bran gently.

"Relax your bow arm" Robb advised his younger brother, the amusement from before replaced by a calm and evened out expression.

"Don't think too much" Jon put a hand on his half-brother's shoulder and knelt beside him. "I want you to focus on just the target before you, the bow in your hand and the arrow you're going to shoot. Breath in and steady yourself, pull the string back as much as you feel you need. The weapon is an extension of you, feel every part of it before you shoot."

Bran listened to what Jon said, unblinkingly staring at the target before him. He took in every word silently, focusing on just the target before him. The world around him slowly faded till it was just them. He heard no noise, he felt nothing. He hadn't moved an inch even when an arrow flew past him and struck the target dead in the centre. Finally, he released and to him, it all happened in slow motion.

Upon the balcony, Lady Stark watched Bran with pride clear in her eyes. People around her always said that little Bran was her favourite, but a mother never had favourites. Still, she would admit to having a soft spot for her second son. She stiffened when Jon Snow came forward to instruct the boy. The boy had never personally done her any injustice, yet his mere existence was one. It was a constant reminder to her that her husband had bedded another, that she was not good enough to keep him only to herself. A stain on her honour was what he was. Yet she endured his existence. She was the Lady of Winterfell and she would endure anything and anyone to keep her family one and safe. Family, Duty, Honor, those were the words of her family. Of House Tully of Riverrun.

She clapped happily when Bran finally shot and hit the bullseyes cleanly, splitting the arrow that had hit the mark only minutes before. She saw Arya come out from under them and stand beside Bran. Both of them were happy and the sight made her heart swell. Even if she did not like Arya partaking in non-lady like activities. It occurred to her then that Arya should be at lessons at this moment, not out here.

"Lord Stark," the voice of Rodrick Cassel brought Catelyn out of her thoughts. She looked to the side and the Master-at-Arms at Winterfell gave a short half bow to her as well, "My lady. A guardsman just rode in from the hills. They've captured a deserter from the Night's Watch."

Catelyn watched her husband grimace and felt her stomach churn uncomfortably.

"Get the lads to saddle their horses" her lord husband ordered and Theon walked away with a nod of his head.

"Do you have to?" Catelyn questioned, looking pleadingly at her husband.

"He swore an oath, Cat" Ned spoke in a gentle voice.

"The law is law, my lady" Ser Rodrick added. Neither of them was able to ease out the uneasiness she felt.

"Tell Bran he's coming too" Ned instructed, making Catelyn look at him with slightly wider eyes. The experienced Knight and Ser Rodrick left with a nod of his head.

"Ned. Ten is too young to see such things."

"He won't be a boy forever. And Winter is coming."

Ned turns and departs, leaving Catelyn alone on the balcony. Her eyes shifted to the training yard and her eyes met Jon's. She glared at him and her eyes narrowed at his response. Usually, the boy would have ducked his head and left. This time he just stared with no expression on his face.

-Execution Site-

The uneasiness that had been building inside of Jon did not seem ready to ebb away just yet. As he watched the man be forced to kneel, he felt as if he had seen this entire scene somewhere. His bones were humming in recognition in some way that he couldn't quite explain.

The man, Will was a ranger of the Night's Watch. He was hunched over, muttering under his breath about what he saw, about White Walkers.

"Wights" the words slipped out of Jon's mouth before he could even think about it. "What you saw were Wights, the dead that rose."

Will's head shot up while the rest gave Jon an incredulous look? "Do you believe me then? That they are back!"

"The White Walkers have been gone for a thousand years, and the Wights just the same" Jon answered, masking the emotions with indifference. The hope in Will's eyes faded and he looked to Lord Stark.

"I know I broke my oath," he said, "and I know I'm a deserter. I should have gone back to the Wall and warned them. But I saw what I saw. I saw the White Walkers. People need to know. If you can get word to my family, tell them I'm no coward. Tell them I'm sorry."

Ned just gave a nod and Will lowered his head, ready for what was to come.

"Don't look away" he spoke to Bran, who was starting to move away slightly. "Look away and father will know" he added. His grip on Bran's shoulder tightened when the sword came rushing down on the man's neck. He felt a tug at his heart, saddened at the loss of life of a brother of the Night's Watch. An order we would soon be joining.

With the execution finished, Bran went to his father while Theon walked up to Jon, joining him on his way back to the horses. "I didn't realize you were paying attention to the mad raving of Old Nan" the Ironborn spoke, his tone bordering insulting. "Don't tell him you believe in them too."

No would have been what Jon would say to Theon here. Yet he felt himself hesitate. Did he believe in them? He had a night terror not too long ago about them as well. All of this had to have some kind of meaning.

He looked to Theon and in a tone as grave as his father spoke, he said "Winter is Coming."

-Winterfell-

The sun was setting and Jon was preparing himself to join his family for dinner. Tucked under his cloak was a bundle of white fur, its ruby-red eyes looking up at its master. This was Ghost, the Direwolf pup that Jon found on their way back. There was more, six to be exact.

They had found the corpse of a Stag, torn to shreds and dead on their ride back. And a little far from it they found a Direwolf, the size of which was that of a fully grown Stallion. It too was dead, stabbed through the throat by the antlers of the Stag they had found. There were five pups nuzzled up to their dead mother's corpse while the sixth was a few feet away from them. It took some convincing but Lord Stark had allowed for his children to keep them all.

Jon made his way to the dining hall but stopped when he felt something strange like something was watching him. His head snapped to the side and he saw a raven sitting at the stables. There was something different about this one, compared to the countless he had seen in the rookery. Its beady black eyes seemed to be looking at him with a form of intelligence that Jon had only seen in other humans. It made his skin crawl.

"Shoo!" Jon hissed at the Raven but it did not even flinch, not even when Jon lashed an arm out towards it.

The Raven spread its wings and took flight, almost slamming into Jon's head. "Snow! Snow!" the bird shrieked, flying overhead. Jon looked at it with wide eyes. He wasn't unaware of the fact that ravens sometimes pick up on a word or two, but this one seemed to be calling out to him in particular.

Jon watched the Raven closely, almost losing it a few times in the dark. But it came down suddenly and perched onto Jon's shoulder. "Snow! Snow! Snow!" it called and Jon felt the world around him darken.