Jon still felt like something wasn't right. It wasn't just because he was unable to sleep that night, or because he was beyond the wall in Wildling territory, it was a feeling he couldn't quite place. He had a pain in his stomach and an ache in his heart. He felt anxious and sad for reasons he couldn't quite place. He found himself the next morning clutching his finger with the ring on it in his hand as if trying to hold onto it for some reason or other. He tried to shake it off the next morning but it was proving harder than he thought it would be.

Despite the beauty the morning brought, which only made him think of her. How her hair was the color of the fresh frost and snow, those enchanting lilac eyes. He closed his eyes and pictured her as best as he could, which he was doing more often than not. He was worried he would forget what she looked like if he didn't try to picture her at least once a day. Yes, it contradicted with what he originally intended, to forget her, to not bring her memory to such a cold desolate place. But when Jon woke up the other morning he could not picture her, he couldn't bring her memory to mind and it frightened him to death. He grew panicked but after a moment he remembered. He remembered every detail and started to picture what their child would look like.

Would she have his hair or hers? Would she have her heart-warming smile or his harsh demeanor? Her purple eyes or his muddy brown eyes? Thinking about it caused Jon to smile, but it would also break his heart. Yes, the child was his by blood, but it wouldn't be his in name. He would be an uncle that was rarely seen, like his uncle Benjen was to him. A father, but not. And her. It pained him to think he would never be able to see her or touch her ever again. That she would become a sister to him and that's what hurt him most. He would be thankful to see her again, but it would be torture to not be able to hold her, or kiss her, or make love to her ever again.

Jon was snapped out of his thoughts when a young girl approached him.

"Hello...who are you?" Jon asked hesitantly, knowing Craster specifically told the men not to talk to his daughters or wives.

"I'm Gilly. Sam told me to find you, he told me that you would help me" she answered placing a hand on her stomach, indicating she was pregnant and from what Jon could see she was pretty far along.

"Well he's wrong" Jon answered stiffly.

"Please...he told me you'd help" she replied, as if not fully understanding his words.

"I'm not even supposed to be talking to you, what makes you think I can help?" Jon said, harsher this time, trying to make the girl leave. He had enough troubles of his own, and he didn't want to add this girls troubles to the pot.

"Sam said..."

"Like I said before, Sam was wrong, now you should go back," Jon said, shaking out his cloak that was covered in the morning's frost. Wordlessly, she left, Ghost walking towards him in his place.

A little while later, like he expected, Sam came walking over to him.

"Now why would you do that? She only wanted help" Sam reasoned.

"And what do you want me to do about it? What did you think would happen? We'd smuggle her back to Castle Black?" Jon snapped, making Sam silent but only for a moment.

"She thinks she's having a boy Jon, and do you see any boys around? What do you think he does with them?" Sam replied, but Jon remained silent.

"There's nothing we can do Sam, leave it be" Jon grumbled, pulling his cloak of feathers back on.

"How can you be so cruel? What if it was your child in there?"

Jon froze. He couldn't know, could he?

"What did you just say?" Jon asked warily.

"I said, what if it was your child? What if it was your son in there, waiting to be slaughtered or who knows what? Would you do something then?" Sam asked boldly.

"Well it's not my child and it's not yours either so you should leave it be" Jon replied emotionlessly, getting irritated with Sam for giving him something else to ponder.

And ponder he did. For the rest of the day, Jon kept thinking and worrying about his child. Gods know where it was, or if it was safe, or if it was still in its mother or not? He mumbled strings of curses, to Sam and to himself. Why did he take the black?

Would you so easily cast me aside?!

Her words echoed in his ear. Her harsh, heartbroken words. But he did it for her, didn't he? He had to ride North, so she wouldn't stay, so she would go south for her own health. But now? His father was slaughtered in the south and who knows what had become of his sisters and her? Did he send her off to her own slaughter? Had he killed them both by taking the black and reciting his vows?

Jon was restless that night, trying to sleep despite knowing he couldn't. Which is how he spotted Craster...carrying a little baby away from his home and out into the night.

Jon followed him as he walked endlessly into the dark forest, it was only when Craster stopped and knelt down, leaving the newborn babe in the snow, that Jon pulled out his sword. How could he just abandon his child?

Jon crept closer but stopped in his tracks and hid behind a tree when he saw the icy figure approach. Jon was briefly confused but all was clear when he saw the piercing, glowing blue eyes. The figure bent down and picked up the babe, and began to walk away. Jon was about to get up, to go defend the child when he felt something behind him. Jon turned around and saw Craster, raising up a sword to him and then all went black.

Jon knew this wasn't like his other dreams. It wasn't like his dreams with the older Rhaella, this was different. It was strange...it was dark and yet he could hear the screams and the crying. He could feel the pain and hear his name being called out and being lost to the wind. She was calling for him. Begging and pleading and praying, for him.

"I'm here! Rhaella I'm here!" he called, searching blindly through the darkness to reach her. She needed him, she was in pain...her heart was being ripped apart and he could feel it. He turned and then he saw her.

She was laying on the ground, screaming and withering in pain. He bent down and grabbed her hand, squeezing it as hard as he could.

"I'm here...don't worry...I'm right here with you" he whispered, which made her cry more.

"Jon...Jon, please...Jon" she sobbed in between screams of pain.

He couldn't do anything but hold her hand and whisper words of comfort and cry right alongside her. Cry because she was in pain. Cry because he was there but not really there. Because he missed her, because of everything. Time passed differently...and before Jon knew it, she was gone.

But in her stead was a child, a small baby girl with white curly hair. He held her in his arms and smiled down at her as she smiled up at him. She looked so much like her, soft and pale and fragile. It was his baby girl, who had dark brown eyes with what seemed like a rim of violet around the edges. She seemed to smile up at him and he was instantly in love. She was his.

But all too soon he was gone. And all was still.

I felt so empty and numb. Like nothing was real or truly mattered. We were riding for the narrow sea. Three days had past but it only felt like a moment, nothing more.

All I knew was the pain. Pain and discomfort and the sense that something was very wrong. I squeezed my eyes shut and I could faintly tell that my arms were moved up, clawing at the tree behind me in order to ground myself to reality. I had started to go in and out of consciousness and in that state of in between, I was with Jon. Somehow, by the grace of the gods perhaps, he was there with me. I could feel him squeezing my hand and calling out to me, encouraging me.

I was screaming for him, begging for him to be really there, not to leave me. I needed him, and at that time when I needed him most, he was gone. During that horrible day when I needed him by my side, he wasn't there. Quickly that small space of in-between was gone and I was lost to oblivion.

I awoke a day later, feeling empty, like part of me was missing, lost to the world. Winter was laying by side on the earthy forest floor. Marian sat across from me, empty-handed.

"Where is she? I want to see her" I begged, my voice hoarse from disuse, and from the screams.

"Rhaella" she replied, giving me a saddened expression in return.

"Please...I need to see her, she needs me!" I cried out, feeling the tears flow freely down my cheeks at the realization of my situation.

"Rhaella, she's with the gods now..." Marian told me, tears starting to well up in her eyes as well.

"Rhaella, you need to eat"

I looked to my left and saw Marian give me a concerned look as we rode towards the shore, Winter was trotting alongside me on my right.

"I'm fine" I mumbled absently, not having the strength for such a trivial conversation.

"You're not fine" she snapped back. I didn't bother to reply, what was the point?

Marian let me hold her after I begged and pleaded. She was a small thing, barely the size of Winter when she was a pup. She had a full head of hair, white like mine and curly like her father's. Her eyes were closed so I couldn't tell if she had my violet eyes or his chocolate eyes. She was wrapped up in an odd bit of cloth, so it looked as if she was sleeping. But her pale face and cold figure told a different story.

I smiled, tears continuing to flow from my cheeks and down off my chin. This was my fault...it was all my fault.

"Look at me!" Marian commanded, her voice thick with the accent from the Iron Islands, a voice much like Theon's.

So I turned my head and looked her dead in the eyes. Her eyes were stern and unyielding, but the longer she looked at me the more I could see her stern look start to falter. She was breaking, or maybe it was a reflection of me, maybe I was breaking, shattering into thousands of pieces and I didn't even know it. But I know what she saw when she looked at me. Nothing.

"Please...don't do this Rhaella" Marian begged. I had just finished putting together the funeral pyre, for Hope, the egg and myself.

"Why are you so worried?" I asked her with a sad smile. I knew that I wouldn't be burned, that I couldn't join my daughter through fire. I wasn't sure how, but I knew.

"Because...I care...I care about you and what happens" she explained, tears in her eyes as I picked up the egg and the torch. Winter sat by the tree opposite to the one with the funeral pyre, she only watched in mild curiosity, as if she somehow knew too.

"Its no good getting attached to me Marian, I'm dead remember?" I told her with an empty smile. Feeling nothing.

"You aren't dead, at least not to me. Don't do this Rhaella, killing yourself in this way won't solve anything" she snapped at me, using anger and force to try and persuade me.

"If only it were that simple" I mumbled with a sigh. I laid the torch down at the bed of sticks and watched in wonder as the flames instantly licked at it. It was then I realized that there wasn't enough room. I thought I had made a bed fit for the three of us, but it would fit only two.

I walked forward, letting the heat and flames wash over me as I laid the egg in the center of the pyre, right next to Hope. I sat there, next to the heat and the flames and watched. In the morning, laying in the ashes, was a baby dragon, adorned in silver, white and grey scales. It squeaked and seemed to cry out for me. I moved my right arm forward, allowing it to crawl up and perch itself on my shoulder. I turned around to see Marian looking at me in astonishment the same as Winter who rose to her feet and stood by Marian looking dumbfounded.

"Visenya" I whispered, naming my newborn child.

We were half a days journey away from the eastern shore. Marian said that there would be a ship waiting for us per Varys' request. A ship that would transport us across the narrow sea and to the city of Qarth, where my sister was closest too.

"I've never told you my story" Marian admitted as walked alongside our horses towards the sea.

"I never thought you'd want to" I answered, glancing down at Winter who trotted at my feet, with Visenya snuggled up in the fur of her back. The two had grown accustomed to each other the past few days and Winter would often act as protector towards the young dragon.

"You are my princess now, I pledge my sword and my life to your service, I think you deserve a little bit of my story" she smiled in reply.

"Very well then, what do you want me to know?" I ask curiously. All I knew was that she was from the Iron Islands and that she was faking an accent in King's Landing.

"For one, my real name is Myra Greyjoy. Heir to the iron islands, at least I was. I had to escape so I ran and ended up in King's Landing. Varys took me in, and here we are" she says in an almost cryptic manner.

"Myra...more suiting for someone from the Iron Islands. As for you pledge, I accept it but I hope you know it's not necessary. You don't have to follow me or pledge to me your sword, well my sword actually, you can watch me get on that ship and leave if you so desire" I tell her.

"I won't leave you, as I said you are my princess now, I will protect you and serve you as faithfully as I can for as long as I'm able. You won't be rid of me that easily" she tells me with a smile. I give a half-hearted smile.

"Thank you, Myra," I tell her earnestly. We spoke about our lives for the rest of the journey, only little stories, nothing too detailed. But when she asked me who Hope's father is, that's when things grew awkward between us. I couldn't think of a reason not to tell her, but to speak his name would rip apart my heart all over again.

"You wouldn't know him"