That night at dinner Jaime did perhaps the one thing he could've done to endear himself to - or rather, be slightly less hated by - the Stark children.
"It was always part of the treaty to return this," He addressed them all, ignoring the stony faces of Sansa, Arya and Edrick. "From what I gather, Loreon had to pry this from my father's cold hands and stop him melting it down into two swords, so I hope you're grateful for his efforts," One of his men stepped forward with a long item covered in sackcloth, offering it to the group in general.
Arya, of all of them, stepped forward rather warily and pulled the heavy cloth away from whatever it was, and there was a collective intake of breath from the table, and a murmur grew in the hall as everyone realised what Jaime had brought them.
"Ice," She breathed, impressed despite herself.
"Father's sword," Sansa was murmuring to Rickon, not taking her eyes of the Valyrian steel greatsword.
"Rickon's sword, now," Ross said. The boy had been looking keenly at the sheathed sword and turned to her with wide eyes.
"Really? It's bigger than I am! It's bigger than Arya,"
"You'll have it when you're older," She told him. "For now, would you mind if Ren took care of it?" Whether her son used it in battle as Ned had done or not - he preferred a longsword to a greatsword - they would need someone to wield it for executions and important occasions.
Rickon shook his head; he didn't mind. After that he was much less likely to copy his siblings' glares at Jaime throughout dinner - and they were much less likely to give them - and Ross saw sneaking glances at the knight every now and again.
The rest of the meal was surprisingly... not hostile, if not quite friendly and civil. Obviously Jaime's antics earlier had left no doubt as to where he and Ross stood, and the benches were alive with rumours but few reached the high table.
"So has your sister always been such a vile cow?" Morganna asked Jaime conversationally as the stew was served. Edrick choked on his mouthful, starting to laugh, as most of the others grinned. Even Sansa's lips twitched, though she cared little for the open impropriety. "Or was it just me and Sansa who got that impression in King's Landing?"
To everyone's surprise but Ross and Ren's, Jaime actually laughed.
"Tyrion and Giana would say yes," He said. "I would say she's been awful since she married Robert, but will admit they're probably more right than I am," The dislike colouring his tone at even the mention of his sister made Ross viciously satisfied. "Looking as you do, I'm not surprised she hated you,"
Morganna smiled rather slyly.
"I remember the exact moment she realised," She said. "I was confused at the time, but now thinking of the look on her face..." She trailed off with a grin.
Ross bit back a smile, taking a sip of wine, but Jaime caught her eye, clearly amused.
"Cersei's got herself in some trouble lately," He said to her. "Father sent her back to Casterly Rock under house arrest. All very secret - even I don't know why,"
He did know why, of course, and told her later after all the others had gone to bed.
Jaime had joined her in her rooms, not openly but neither of them were particularly bothering to be discreet either. Before dinner, Ross had made herself look more presentable - worn her hair loose aside from a small braid at the back, and put on a nicer dress in deep velvet green - though he outshone her as always even here.
"You won't believe this," He started off with before the door had even closed behind him, which boded well.
"Try me,"
He sat down in the other chair across from her, taking the wine bottle she wordlessly pushed his way.
"Are you not having any?" In response Ross lifted a whole bottle of her own that had been stood on the floor and Jaime laughed. "Can you manage all that? I don't think I've ever seen you drink more than a cup of wine,"
"Well we haven't got any cups," She said. "And there's no chance I'm going down to the kitchens at this hour to request two,"
"Fair enough," He eyed her, leaning back in his chair, amused. "I'd rather see you necking the bottle like a tavern wench,"
She rolled her eyes, taking a swig from the bottle nonetheless and ignoring his grin.
"Go on then. What did your sweet sister do that got her in so much trouble?"
"Yes," He took a long drink from his own bottle. "So Father set guards on her as punishment for orchestrating the Bolton... incident," Anger flashed in his eyes even at the mention and Ross fought to keep the smile from her face. "But after we returned to King's Landing he seemed to relax that. Foolish of him. Joffrey's death made Cersei paranoid. I know it wasn't an accident, you know it wasn't an accident, but anyone else who doesn't know about Ren would sound mad even suggesting so. She starting accusing everyone around her - Loreon, Tyrion, me, Giana - "
"Why would she accuse you?" Even though the twins were no longer as disgustingly close as they had been years ago, Ross didn't realise Cersei hated Jaime as much as she hated Tyrion and Giana.
"Oh," He grinned then, taking another swig. "I tried to strangle her at a family dinner after Joffrey let slip it was her that told Bolton to kill you,"
Ross' eyes widened, but then she started to laugh.
"You didn't," He just nodded. "What did your father do?"
"Called the guards to have her taken away," He shrugged. "He seemed to want to strangle her himself for almost ruining the treaty, so just glared and grumbled at me bit. But I truly would've killed her then, if no one had stopped me. I don't care if she's always been this hateful or if it's worsened in recent years - when I heard that it was the last straw,"
The words meant more to Ross than she could say, and she smiled.
"Anyway, no one paid her accusations any mind, obviously," He scoffed. "Joffrey's horse ran into a river for gods sakes. But then she went oddly quiet, about everything. Most people were too glad to question it - and they were busy preparing for Loreon's wedding - but I know her better than anyone. She was acting strangely, which was suspicious," He smiled dryly. "I discovered her plotting with Qyburn - remember Bolton's awful maester from Harrenhal - and some of the pyromancers. She wanted to blow up the Great Sept with wildfire during the wedding,"
Ross was silent for one beat, two.
"Is she fucking insane?"
"It wasn't a proud moment when I learned my twin is madder than the king I killed,"
"Are you sure your mother didn't have an affair with Aerys?" She was stunned. "It would explain a lot - about both of you, actually, but particularly Cersei,"
Jaime pulled a face at that, though she wasn't sure if that was at the comparison to the Mad King he had murdered or the reminder that he had once slept with his sister.
"From what I remember of my mother, she'd have ensured any baby formed of such a thing was never born," He said. "She wouldn't have risked it coming out with purple eyes, and everyone says she loved my father besides," He smiled then. "Besides, Aerys would definitely have thrown it in my father's face if he ever slept with his wife. He wouldn't have been able to stop himself,"
"You're not wrong," Ross pulled a face. "You've thought that through before,"
"The same idea crossed my mind and I had to convince myself it wasn't true," He shuddered.
"So, what did you do when you found out your sweet sister was planning to blow up an entire wedding?" She was still incredulous at the idea. "I won't judge if you added kinslayer and queenslayer to your list of titles,"
"I considered it," He snorted. "But no, Ren's still the only kinslayer - I dragged Cersei kicking and screaming to Father instead. Brought in Loreon too. She claimed to have been working on delaying Father and her children from arriving, so they wouldn't be killed in the explosion, but made no mention of me, Tyrion or Giana. Nor Loreon, Shireen, and a large proportion of the nobility of the Reach, Stormlands and Crownlands,"
Ross couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Even if she succeeded," She said faintly. "Surely she'd know that there would be repercussions. She would've completely wiped out many ancient houses, and damaged many others. War would be the least of her worries. Did she really think people would follow the Lannisters after that? The entire realm would want her head!"
"Starting with my father," Jaime said darkly. "Loreon claimed that his rage at finding out she told Bolton to kill you and young Robb - which apparently was impressive - paled in comparison to this,"
"I'm not surprised. Robert's Rebellion was triggered by Aerys killing two members of my house, but this is on a whole other scale... She's not even queen... I just - " Words failed her, and she shook Ross head. "At least Aerys was doing it as a last resort, out of pure spite - even that makes more sense than Cersei actually thinking it would benefit her. She's more dangerous than a raving madman because she thinks she's right,"
"Father clearly realised what a threat she is," He said. "She's been sent back to Casterly Rock as a prisoner without the chains. She's not allowed any contact with her children, nor anyone except the few servants allowed to bring her meals and clean her chambers. I don't see that changing anytime soon. With my Uncle Kevan as castellan she won't get away with anything,"
"I hope not. Gods she's awful,"
"You won't hear me disagreeing. But enough talk of my sister, it's turning my stomach. Tell me how you won back the North. I heard today you took a trip to Skagos, of all places. Were there any close encounters with cannibals?"
"If there were, I never knew about them," She said. "The Skagosi were a little cagey about that, though perhaps that was for the best. I did ride a unicorn though,"
"If you say so," Jaime snorted.
"I did!" She laughed slightly. "They're the size of a sturdy pony and look like shaggy mountain goats, with a huge horn in the middle of their forehead. Our guide laughed when I got mine to arch its neck,"
"So you not only want me to believe that unicorns are real but that you managed to get one on the bit like a well-trained palfrey?"
He was joking, and Ross just shook her head.
"More than you could've done. You wouldn't have lasted the journey - I'm certain the Skagosi would've taken one look at you and decided you'd make a nice stew,"
"Is that your attempt at a compliment, Lady Stark?" He grinned. "No wonder you're unmarried at four-and-thirty,"
That was an insult and you know it. Ross threw the cork of her now half-empty wine bottle at him, laughing as it bounced off his head.
"You should drink more often, it's quite entertaining," Jaime threw the cork back but she dodged.
"That would've been a bad idea," She pulled a face. "I wouldn't have been able to get through a feast with Robert Baratheon without throwing a cork at his head. And the moment your sister made one of her nasty little comments about my plain face I'd have simply told her who was going to join me in my chambers later on,"
He laughed loudly.
"Oh that would've been worth all the trouble that came afterwards. Did she really say your face was plain?"
"She arranged my murder, why are you surprised? Besides, you've said my face is plain,"
"I did, didn't I... In all fairness, I was sixteen. Actually no, you were fifteen, and did grow into that face. It's rather nice now,"
"Charming," Her tone was dry, but that was perhaps the most complimentary thing he'd ever said about her appearance. Normally he didn't mention it at all, not that she minded - she knew that calling her pretty was a small stretch, and beautiful was out of the question - but it was nice to hear someone thought she wasn't plain for once.
"I thought so," He got out of his chair, somehow still graceful despite the bottle of wine he had almost finished, moving to stand beside her own and holding out a hand. "Up, my lady. I want to dance,"
"No," She took another swig from the wine bottle, kicking off her boots and tucking her legs up underneath her. "There's no music,"
"Come on Ross. I haven't danced with you since..." He thought. "Aerys' court,"
"I remember," She tilted her head. "That one feast, when he saw us together and snatched me away to dance with him instead. I trod on his toes, a lot, though he was so paranoid about his Hand betraying him that he barely noticed. I hope it really hurt him the next morning,"
"It definitely hurt him when my sword slit his throat, so the least you could do for that is dance with me, now,"
She laughed aloud.
"That doesn't work. I can simply refuse,"
"Can you?"
Before she knew it he had marched forward and snatched the bottle from her hands, setting it on the table as she let out an unladylike noise of protest. Then he'd lifted her bodily from the chair until she stumbled to standing before him, but she really wasn't going to dance and kissed him instead, both hands on his face, and he kissed her back and gods it had been too long, she had missed him, missed this, all of it, and the best part was she knew he had too.
Though Ross rarely openly expressed such emotions, she loved deeply and fiercely, and underneath everything often wondered if those she loved felt the same towards her. It was nice, to feel equally as wanted by someone else. To be so sure of the fact that they needed her as much as she needed them.
Jaime backed up until she felt the backs of his legs hit the bed, and he sat down, pulling her into his lap. Things escalated until both of them were wearing considerably less clothing, but then she heard him hiss slightly, fingers running over the ugly scar on her chest where Roose Bolton had stabbed her in the heart and twisted the blade.
"How did you survive that?" His tone was sharp. For a moment she considered telling him, about the red priest, the baby, everything. But now wasn't the time, it would be hard enough explaining things sober, she would only sound mad, and perhaps it was selfish but she didn't know how he would react even if he did believe her.
"I don't know,"
The almost two weeks that Jaime spent at Winterfell were rather surreal for Ross. He was planning on waiting there until the army was ready to leave for the Wall, then go with them to meet Loreon and the Lannister forces there. But as he had no men of his own there at the present save the half a dozen he had ridden north with, he had little to do.
He trained in the yard a lot. Slowly the men grew somewhat less suspicious and hostile towards him as time went on. Even Arya stopped glaring at him when he agreed to spar with her without batting an eye, and did not hold back at all unlike many of others; he disarmed her easily of course but gave her several choice pointers that she took with a stony but determined face, clearly taking them into account.
Jaime also spent a lot of time with Ren. Though her son was doing an excellent job preparing the army to leave, he had never done it single-handedly before and there were several things that he appreciated Jaime's advice on. For Ren being around him was easy; he and Jaime had known each other since he was ten and had simply continued being friends as they had been before the truth came out, barely paying any notice to the fact they were blood relatives.
Morganna seemed to be trying the same tactic despite the fact she barely knew the man; simply being her usual abrasive self.
"So was your father ashamed to realise he had five - sorry, two - actually no, three including Loreon... Three bastard grandchildren?" She asked Jaime at dinner one day. The first slip had been deliberate, Ross knew, though she acted like she wasn't paying attention. "Would I be wise to avoid King's Landing from now on?"
"You'd be wise to do that anyway," Jaime replied, considering her question. "He was more annoyed at me refusing to leave the Kingsguard than anything, especially after meeting Ren," He raised his glass mockingly. "You managed to impress the Old Lion, though he'd never admit it. He's angry you could never be his heir," He glanced at Morganna with a small smirk. "He'd be less impressed with you,"
Even Sansa, who had been listening in, had to smile at that. Ross knew exactly why Tywin Lannister would disapprove of Morganna, and that was because she'd remind him far too much of his disappointing former heir.
"I'm a bastard now, not a lady," Her daughter seemed to enjoy that fact. "I don't need to impress anyone," Arya looked rather envious of that.
"There's no danger of that," Edrick snorted.
"That's rude, Edrick," Aileen told him off, turning to her sister with an amused smile. "Don't take it to heart, Morganna. Lots of handsome young men in this castle seem very impressed with you," All the girls laughed at the look on Edrick's face.
"Which ones?" Ren raised an eyebrow, tone light.
"As if I'd tell you! You'd scare the living daylights out of anyone and no one will even tell me I'm pretty again,"
"Would you tell me?" Ross asked.
"You're even worse,"
She shrugged; fair enough.
"You're meant to be her father," Edrick grumbled at Jaime. Ross hadn't realised they were on speaking terms. "Can the first thing you do to act like it be to use that bad reputation of yours to scare the boys gawping at my sister?" Speaking terms but hardly friendly. Better than just glaring, she supposed.
"I don't think she'd thank me for it," Jaime eyed Morganna, amused. "All you'd be doing is making sure she never tells you anything of such things again,"
Ross hated watching people she loved ride away. Normally she was the one doing the riding - during the Rebellion, every time she left Winterfell and King's Landing, the war with the Lannisters - but not this time.
Both her sons, and Jaime too, had left that morning, heading up the Kingsroad to the Wall along with the Stark army. She could still see them, stood on the battlements as she was; it was a clear day and the shadow of the army was visible in the distance even hours later. Ren was riding near the front, recognisable by Crow's huge dark form running beside his horse, Grey Wind on his other side.
Rickon was not happy that Robb, Ren and Edrick were leaving; or more accurately, that he wasn't going with him. Ross had dealt with the boy's tantrum after the gates had shut.
"Why can't I go?" He demanded, little face screwed up in anger. "I'm meant to go to war, I'm the Lord of Winterfell!"
"And I'm Lady Paramount of the North," Ross said, tone uncompromising. "You're not even seven years old and have only just started training with a sword. Absolutely not,"
"Derrick says I'm very good with a sword!"
"You are, for a six year old. And I don't care if you've got Shaggydog," She raised an eyebrow, anticipating his protest. "You have no place fighting grown men in battle," Rickon was silent, but furiously so. "When you're Edrick's age you can go - this is his first time going to war. He had to stay behind when we went to fight the Lannisters,"
The boy had seemed to accept that as fair, but that didn't mean he was happy about it. Thankfully their master-at-arms Derrick had managed to challenge a lot of his anger and wildness into weapons training, though Ross half expected to see a small redheaded figure tearing off on a black direwolf after the army as she watched them ride north.
Part of her wanted to take a horse and go tearing off herself. Though she would be useless in battle - the only weapon she was vaguely skilled with was her long dagger, which did not cope well against armoured knights - it seemed wrong to be staying behind while her sons fought battles technically in her name with her so far away.
She didn't fear for Ren or Jaime overmuch, knowing they were both very skilled, and experienced too. But although Edrick was good with a sword for his age he didn't have the same natural brilliance those two did, and none of Ren's clever restraint, which had likely saved his life many a time. Not to mention the fact his sight was only good in one eye, thanks to Ramsay.
Ross had watched battle unfold at the Whispering Wood, and on the Blackwater when Stannis had taken King's Landing, and knew it wouldn't be easy to experience for the first time no matter how tough her son might be. Although he had spent over a year living with Ramsay Snow, who brought home the skins of raped and murdered girls as trophies; he had also seen Ramsay die, which was hardly quick and clean. Battle could likely not be more gruesome than that. So perhaps he would be alright and this was just a mother's worrying.
It was odd to feel like she was being too soft. Normally it was the other way around. Ross had never displayed the ideal feminine traits of gentle, caring and sweet. Even as a young girl she had been reserved, practical and blunt, and life so far had hardly taught her to be any less so despite often being mocked for being grim-faced and hard-eyed.
Perhaps death had softened her somewhat. Though she had killed the Boltons after she had died, so perhaps not. Maybe it was their deaths that had done the softening. She glanced down at the head of Roose Bolton - and what remained of the head of Ramsay - stuck on pikes on the outer walls. Awfully rotted now, but Ross still smiled at the sight.
No, the idea that she was any softer was laughable... Except perhaps when it came to her children.
Mance Rayder was defeated, the raven claimed. His armies smashed between the Wall - manned by the Night's Watch and the Northmen - and Loreon's men advancing from Eastwatch. The southerners had travelled slightly further north and fallen on the Wildlings from that direction, preventing many from escaping back into the Haunted Forest.
The stories of a Wildling army of a hundred thousand bearing down on the Wall were exaggerated, apparently. Whilst there were likely near that many people as part of the whole host, the majority of these were not fighters, but women and children, the elderly and infirm, who stayed in the camp and did not go to battle. The Wildlings had suffered heavy losses simply getting to the Wall in the first place, too. Ren was rather vague about why that was, claiming that the cold took them, but it wasn't even truly winter yet? It would be bitterly cold beyond the Wall now, yes, but temperatures like that would hardly hold a candle to the worst winters Winterfell had seen, let alone those lands further north. Odd...
Even those men and women that did fight in battle were made up of a ragtag group of various different tribes and clans that were normally warring against each other. They had no training as a large army, did not work together as a cohesive unit and were not used to the type of warfare that went on in the rest of Westeros; no doubt the sight of a wall of armoured knights charging them down was utterly terrifying, something they had no training for, and had caused many men to break and run.
So the battle had hardly been a hard one to win. Many Wildlings had refused to stop fighting, or attempted to flee and been cut down, but all their generals had been told to offer their foes the chance to surrender, and to spare them if they did. Ross frowned then, wondering why Ren, Loreon and whoever led the Night's Watch now - was it still old Lord Mormont? - had agreed to do that, but continued to read.
By all accounts, Mance Rayder's army was crippled and the man himself was held captive. Around ten thousand fighting men and women had survived the battle and were now prisoners. A further forty thousand women and children joined them from the camp, along with 'a number of giants'. Giants? Madness... Ross hadn't realised there were any alive today, and had had her doubts that they ever existed at all outside Old Nan's stories.
She had shaken her head, wondering why Ren was telling all her this, and why they had bothered to capture any Wildlings at all - let them flee north having been sufficiently cowed into not attacking the Wall again - only to read the next paragraph. She stopped dead and had to read it again, and again.
Her son was asking - at Jon Snow's request, which apparently Loreon agreed with - that she help them persuade the Northern lords to allow the surviving Wildlings through the Wall to settle in the Gift and New Gift.
I know it sounds absurd Mother, but you know I wouldn't ask if I didn't have a good reason. Come to Castle Black and you will see for yourself why this is the lesser of two evils. When I tell you that the Mountain Clans have not yet outright refused and even the Umbers have not killed us for suggesting it, you know this is a matter of great urgency. The Night's Watch is divided; half want us to butcher the Wildlings and have done with it, but the other half seem to be siding with Jon. He spent some time riding with Mance Rayder and his army, and knows things that you cannot imagine. Rayder didn't lead his people south for no reason.
That was concerning, to say the least. Any Stark that suggested such a thing as letting the Wildlings through the Wall would not be Lord of Winterfell for very long. The houses of the far north - Umber, Mormont, the Mountain Clans, even Karstark - held a deep and fairly-earned resentment towards the Wildlings, for years of raiding and carrying off women. Not to mention the Watch itself. Jon must have some influence there, then, if he was able to persuade a sizeable number that allowing Wildlings through the wall was a good idea.
But it was Jaime's message that fully convinced her she should actually entertain this possibility instead of deciding that there was something in the water at the Wall that had made everyone there go mad. He had written a small note at the end of Ren's letter;
Trust him, Ross. There's things out here that you won't believe. Come north.
Not a word of that sounded like a joke.
By the next day Ross was riding out with an escort of a dozen Winterfell men - leaving the castle securely garrisoned, with strict orders that a siege would be preferable to losing the castle in the same manner they had before - along with (despite her reservations) Rickon, Shaggydog and Osha. People needed to see that both she and Rickon, the new Lord of Winterfell, were actually alive.
The journey was slow going. The Kingsroad was covered in a thick layer of snow, which only got deeper the further north they went. The horses were thankfully sturdy Northern beasts and did not struggle overmuch, plodding through the snow, but were anything but fast. Both she and the men were used to travelling in winter, and Rickon was hardy from his time on Skagos, so there were few complaints on the journey, but it was a relief nonetheless when they reached the rather underwhelming sight of Castle Black.
Ross finally realised exactly how sorry the state of the Night's Watch was when she saw the dilapidated castle, lots of the buildings in dire need of repair. They had been able to see the magnificent structure of the Wall for days now - she had actually found it quite beautiful on the days when it shone in the sun - but it had taken a while to realise the small dark smudge beneath it was actually the castle.
The Northern army was camped in and around it, the soldiers vastly outnumbering the Black Brothers. From what she understood, Loreon's camp was on the other side of the Wall, and that was where the Wildings were contained.
Her arrival was without fanfare but she was met in the courtyard by a several Black Brothers, Ren and Edrick. She wondered where Jaime was, and Benjen. She had not seen her little brother since Ned left Winterfell; they were the last two left, she realised rather bleakly.
Jon Snow was there too. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the boy - man, now - looking like the ghost of Ned Stark, but taller and less stocky than her brother had been. Ghost stood at his side, white and silent.
"Father?" Rickon looked unsurely at Jon, voice quiet enough that only Ross heard him. "But I thought - "
"Your father's still dead, Rickon," She spoke softer than usual. "That's Jon Snow, your brother,"
"That's Jon?" The boy brightened up a little, clearly remembering. "He looks a lot older now,"
Shaggydog was already racing forward, tackling Ghost into the snow. People hurriedly moved out the way of the horse-sized wolves play-fighting like common hounds. Grey Wind stood nearby, not getting involved and watching the people's interactions instead.
"Lady Rosennis," Jon inclined his head politely. "Welcome to Castle Black,"
"I'm your aunt, Jon, no need to be so formal," She said, nudging Rickon forwards. That was all the prompting the boy needed to fling himself at Jon, who seemed surprised but incredibly glad all the same, arms wrapping around his brother.
"That's Lord Commander to you," Edrick stepped forward with a grin. Ross turned to her nephew, surprised.
"Really?"
Jon smiled slightly.
"I didn't enter my name in the vote, but thanks to Sam - Samwell Tarly - my Brothers voted for me anyway," He gestured to a fat young man in black hovering rather uncomfortably behind him. "It was only a few days ago,"
"We wouldn't have held the Wall without Jon, my lady," Samwell Tarly's eyes darted around nervously and she could tell he was loyal to Jon else he would never have spoken directly to her. Perhaps he thought she was like Lady Catelyn and would dislike a bastard rising too high. "We were on our own for a day and night before your troops got here, with no Lord Commander,"
"Well done," She said to her nephew, meaning it. "What happened to Lord Mormont?"
"Mutiny," Jon said with narrowed eyes. "There was a great ranging, beyond the Wall. It's a long story, one we should tell inside out the cold. The Northern lords are gathered in the hall, Aunt Ross, but they've all heard the story. I'd rather tell you in private, if that's alright with you,"
"Of course," She nodded, following him inside.
Private turned out to be her, Jon, Ren, Edrick, Grey Wind, Rickon, Samwell Tarly, a very old maester wearing Night's Watch blacks and a woman dressed all in red.
"Melisandre," Her eyes narrowed. Last she had heard of the priestess, Loreon had banished her from King's Landing. "You won't find many willing to convert to your red god in the North,"
"I am not here to convert," She said in her rich, accented voice. "But to advise," She considered Ross closely. "Strange that you still don't believe in R'hllor's power, seeing as he has touched you so deeply," Her eyes narrowed. "Stranger still that your heart beats,"
Jon cleared his throat.
"Thank you, my lady," He said, and Melisandre drew back, though her eyes lingered on Ross. "I didn't know you had met. This is Maester Aemon," He gestured to the ancient man sat down, and Ross realised that he was blind.
The name was familiar - she'd read it somewhere before - as were some of the features on his wrinkled face... Then the truth hit her like a hammer to the face.
"Aemon Targaryen?" She asked sharply, remembering her histories, how Aegon the Unlikely had become king after his elder brother, a maester, had gone to the Wall. She saw Jon's eyes widen - evidently he remembered her hatred of Targaryens and had hoped she wouldn't realise - but ignored him, focusing on the old man.
Thankfully his eyes were blind and white rather than purple, but though his face was heavily lined and shrivelled, she still recognised the fine-boned nose, the Valyrian curve to his lips. Her blood grew cold as it did at every mention of his family, and memories viciously assaulted her; Rhaegar's eyes locked on Lyanna as he handed her a crown of roses; Aerys on the throne laughing as Father burned and Brandon died; Aerys bearing down on her, hurting her, his voice hissing, evil and cruel -
"Lady Stark," The maester's voice was calm and courteous. She had half expected Aerys' cackle and blinked herself out of her memories. He's an old man, just an old man, they wouldn't have let him be a maester if he was as mad as his great-nephew. She still didn't trust herself to open her mouth without insulting him.
There was a silence, which Jon broke.
"And this is Mance Rayder,"
That got her attention. She had barely noticed the unassuming man sat in the corner, taking him for a Black Brother until she realised he wore chains on his wrists. He did not exactly look like a king. Even sat down he was clearly tall and slender, with long grey hair and laughter lines on his face.
"Rosennis Stark," He said, not using her title, though she didn't expect him to, his tone light. "I hear you're the one to decide if my people live or die and come back to kill you,"
She had raised an eyebrow at that odd phrasing, glancing at Ren, who looked to Jon, who sighed.
"There's a reason the Wildings banded together to attack the Wall," He said, clearly trying to find the right words. "It started before I came here, when two rangers were killed and another deserted. I was there when Father beheaded him - he was raving about undead creatures, white shadows," Ross was silent, wondering where this was going. "Then Uncle Benjen went missing,"
"Benjen's missing?" She asked sharply, not having been aware of this. As far as she was concerned her little brother was still First Ranger. "Since when?"
"Since I came to the Wall," Jon said, surprised that she didn't know.
She gritted her teeth, angry that somehow she hadn't been made aware of that, and very concerned for her brother too; missing beyond the Wall for two years, gods he couldn't be dead, not little Ben, I can't be the last one, I can't. Trying to block out the turmoil of her mind, she nodded for Jon to continue.
"We found the corpses of the two men that went with Benjen," He said. "We took them into the castle, but that night they rose and tried to kill Lord Mormont,"
What? She searched his face for any sign of a joke, and found none. None of the others were laughing either.
"The corpses tried to kill your Lord Commander?" A chill ran down Ross' spine even voicing it. Dead men rising in the night hit rather too close to home.
"Yes," Jon grimaced. "It sounds absurd, I know, but it's true. I got this burn killing one," He showed her the burn scars on his hand.
"Was it... magic?" She felt stupid even suggesting such a thing, though less so than she would've before she was raised from the dead herself. Perhaps this was the same thing, only something had gone wrong. She glanced at Melisandre; she was a red priestess, had she been behind it..?
"We weren't sure," Jon continued. "But Lord Mormont had had enough of the strangeness and took us all on a Great Ranging, to see what was going on. I was sent away with Qhorin Halfhand at this point," There was a story there that he wasn't getting into; Tarly shifted uncomfortably and Jons eyes closed off a little. "But the Watch made camp at the Fist of the First Men. Sam was there, he'll tell you," He glanced at Tarly who looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.
"W-w-we were attacked, my lady," He said, quailing slightly as her stare turned to him. "In the night. There were three blasts on the horn. That means - it means... Others are coming,"
"Which others? Wildlings? Freefolk, sorry," Ross frowned, ignoring Mance Rayder's raised eyebrow at her use of the term 'Freefolk'. Then realisation hit. Others, not others. "You can't mean - " She broke off, taking in the grim faces around her. But they're just stories, they all must be joking, but no one's denying it, none of the lords, not Ren, Jon, even Edrick...
Gods. She swallowed.
"Have you seen one? An - an Other? Has anyone?"
"Sam killed one. Sam the Slayer," The corners of Jon's mouth twitched. Samwell blushed, shuffling his feet, and Jon looked amused for a moment before turning solemn once more. "But yes, lots of us have seen one. They hounded the Night's Watch all the way back to the Wall, the Freefolk too. And everyone has seen the wights - the Others can raise the dead with their magic. That was what happened to the corpses that attacked Lord Mormont,"
"It was wights that attacked us at the Fist, my lady," Samwell Tarly said. "You can stick them with a sword but they don't die. You can cut their heads off but they keep coming,"
"They killed our men then raised them against us," Jon said. "The wights remember nothing, it seems, and will turn on their friends. That's why a lot of people want to let the Freefolk through the Wall. Otherwise we'll be facing them as a wight army in the future,"
That was a lot to take in. Benjen missing, probably dead, gods I'm the last one left, Others, giants, Wildlings, wights, the dead walking - the dead walking! Was she a wight, having been raised from the dead, though she was raised by a red priest rather than an Other? But surely not, she could remember everything, she had a heartbeat, she felt alive and no different from before save a few extra nightmares. Lord Beric, though...
Ross took a deep breath.
"Can wights be killed?" She asked, trying to remain practical and not take her family as far from this place as possible. "You said Tarly here killed an Other,"
"The wights can be killed by fire, Valyrian steel or dragonglass," Jon drew the odd-looking dagger at his belt. "Obsidian, the maesters call it. As for the Others, they dislike fire but only Valyrian steel and dragonglass will stop them,"
"Well that makes my decision easier," She said, trying to focus on what she could do now rather than the wintery doom bearing down on them. "Let the Freefolk through the Wall, though take all their weapons. I'd rather have them alive here than undead out there,"
Mance Rayder smiled, satisfied and looking like he was hiding his surprise at how easily she'd been convinced.
"The lords will want more assurance than that," Ren spoke up. "They've been fighting these people for millennia,"
"Take hostages," Jon said, no hint of the boy she had known at Winterfell in his tone. "From each of the wildling leaders. Have them give up a son or daughter, with the threat that we'll kill them if they cause any trouble,"
Ross looked at him appraisingly. Ren seemed rather impressed. She nodded.
"A good plan. Will your people accept that?" She looked at Mance Rayder, who shrugged.
"They can accept it or die. They know what's out there,"
Many of you were curious where the situation with the Wildlings was headed - here's your answer. What do you think of this chapter? It struck me while writing it that Ross never found out that Benjen went missing - I honestly can't remember if Robb ever found out in canon, but if he did lets just say Ross was away for that bit and no one got round to telling her.
It's important to make the distinction now between show!Jon and book!Jon, because honestly by ADWD they're completely different characters. Show!Jon is led by his emotions and is honestly not the brightest (see the Battle of the Bastards, staying to fight after everyone got on the dragon, bending the knee to Dany etc etc). Book!Jon (whilst still ignorant in many areas and not perfect by any means) is ambitious, intelligent and even rather cold sometimes, hence the wildling hostages here.
Also Cersei's insane plot was thankfully foiled. It was such a brilliant and shocking moment on the show, and I couldn't wait for the consequences for what she'd done only to see there were none at all.
Please leave a comment if you can spare a minute! Even a few words matter a lot. Thanks for reading!
