Helo everybody, just a quick announcement. For those of you who do not know yet, I have done a rewrite and gave Arya back her hand. Chapters after that event have been updated to match the change. Also, I highly recomend reading this chapter on Archive of Our Own because there will be some artwork present of some sweetass stuff that appears in the chapter.


Jon

Jon stood at the base of the weirwood, waiting to conduct the last wedding for the night and the one he would be most proud of. It had been snowing lightly all throughout the night as the four others had happened. First was Roose Ryswell and a spearwife name Gletta of the Cave People. Once the face paint and other messes had been washed off of her, she was fairer than most in the south with hair as black as the midnight sky. After Him was Gwyn Whitehill and Josera Snow, now Lord and Lady of House Icewood of the Winterfort, no longer named the Dreadfort. Josera was stricken with Gwyn, yet she remained cold as stone much like Lady Catelyn was towards Jon. Then it was Wynafred Manderly and Morgan of the Frozen Shore Men. Together they wed and began House Frostshore. After them it was Alys Karstark and Siggorn of the Thenns. He was years older than her, but no more than eight. Little did any of the other lords know that Alys and Siggorn planned to be wed before Tyrion could think of it. Siggorn would create the House Thenn and the both of them would rule in Karhold for five years, hopefully by then, Rickard II Karstark would be old enough to learn from his mother and advisors.

All of the Free Folk were welcome to marry at the Godswood seeing as they were just as faithful to the old gods as the Northerners were. The men were told of bedding ceremonies beforehand. Morgan and Siggorn threatened to kill any man who dare touched their brides, so as a gesture of good faith the men were welcomed to steal their wives when the time came.

Finally, the last of the weddings was about to begin. Daenerys stood next Sansa, Missandei, and Brienne to watch on the bride's side of the onlookers while Tyrion in front of Sandor Clegane, both of whom were behind Ser Davos who was behind Gendry. He was dressed in a fine black doublet with his sigil, a stag's head over an anvil, sewn in gold over his left breast. His beard was finely trimmed and he looked groomed to look like the Lord he had to be. It was surprising to many that Gendry managed to get himself clean after spending over a week in the forge with twelve other smiths. All of them had been working day and night on a special project that no one knew about. However, Jon suspected that Daenerys knew because the day of their return to Winterfell, Gendry had a private meeting with her and she had been keeping something to herself ever since.

All went silent as Rickon walked into the Godswood with Arya holding onto his arm. Jon wasn't prepared to see Arya in a beautiful white wedding dress, she was groomed to be like a lady like her mother wanted and for probably the only time it would happen, Arya looked happy about it.

Jon straightened when Rickon and Arya reached the foot of the heart tree, the lanterns' light was reflecting the red of the leaves and made them look like rubies flickering in the night.

Jon stepped forward and began to ceremony. "Who comes before the Old Gods this night?"

Rickon began his part. "Arya, of House Stark, comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn, and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?" Arya shifted slightly and looked slightly unsettled. She still didn't have the amount of comfort doing this as she thought she would.

Gendry looked at her and noticed her discomfort. He stepped forward and did as he was instructed, but only he decided to word things different. "Gendry, of House Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End. I've not come to claim her but take her of her own free will."

Davos and Tyrion's eyes widened in either shock or amazement, maybe both. Jon kept his composure but felt as they did. He'd never heard of this before and felt a sort of satisfaction that he would do that for Arya. She looked at him, her discomfort fading away. She wasn't sure how to proceed and neither did Jon, but she decided to go with it. "My choice is to be his, from now until always."

Gendry smiled the slightest and looked back to Jon. "Who gives her?"

Rickon looked more relieved than anyone. This was his first time to give away a bride, and he looked more nervous than he did when he wed Jon to Daenerys. "Rickon, of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, her brother."

Even though Arya had already given her answer, Jon proceeded. "Lady Arya," Arya's face twitched when Jon called her a lady, "do you take this man?"

She looked at Gendry and tried not to smile but she failed. "I take this man." And with those words, Arya Stark was now Arya Baratheon.

The Night was ripe for celebration. However, given the size of the Great Hall in Winterfell, the lords and ladies were taken to the longhouse built for the war council as to fit the number of them gathering together.

To accommodate the celebrations of the great victory and the five weddings, two high table were built. One for the King and Queen and the Starks of Winterfell, the other for those who were married. Jon and Daenerys's places where in the middle of the longhouse, the Starks to their left and the married few on the right. Decorating the walls were the banners of every House that fought, including the new banners for the new Northern Houses. House Icewood's sigil sported a white snow bear resting between two ironwood trees on a pale blue field. Roose Ryswells took his own form of his family's sigil. The colors of the Ryswell horse were reversed and the eyes of the red horse were turned to green after his own. House Frostshore took a blue and grey whale in a cold green sea. Siggorn remained loyal to his people and made his and Alys' sigil a bronze disk of the Thenns. Siggorn had been taken with the ideals of the Lord of Light ever since Jon's second resurrection and chose to add the red flames of the R'hollor around the disk, honoring the red god, the power of the dragons, and the sigil of House Karstark.

Once everyone had settled in, Jon and Daenerys both stood up from their seats with silver goblets in hand filled with a simple wine. All who were present in the longhouse stood up with them, goblets and tankards in hand.

Jon spoke loudly and his voice echoed to all of them. "As we begin to rejoice in our victory, we raise a glass to those who gave their blood and their lives. Hail the victorious dead!"

All in the longhouse repeated after him. "Hail the victorious dead!" everyone took a drink of their wine in honor of the dead, the last right they had to do for those that fell. Once everyone had set down their drinks, Jon nodded to a group of minstrels and hey began to play music loud for all to hear.

Though the occasion was considered a feast, the food was nothing more than the nightly rations with a few extra servings of game that was hunted in the week since everyone's return. The armies were treated to a few extra barrels of ale and wine, but for once, maybe the only time ever, the Northmen hardly had any. There was still a great distrust of the Lannister forces and those that previously served House Frey, so many kept their distance and made sure they were armed for tonight's weddings.

As things began to get started, many friends and family members of the newlyweds began to present them with wedding gifts. Josera was given an Ironwood shield from Rodrick, Lord Manderly had three ships made for Wynafred and Morgan. Even Roose's wife, Gletta, presented him with a stone that rippled like a rainbow from her cave in the far north. But to Jon and Daenerys's surprise, many lords began to line up to them. The room started to settle down as many stepped forward.

Rodrick Forrester was at the head of the line. "My King, my Queen, as your wedding was one that we had hardly any time to prepare for, there are many of us who had yet to present gifts to you both. And now with the victory over the dead, we can only offer so much for everything you've done." Rodrick nodded to some of his men who left the building but came back with two cribs made of ironwood. In the sides were carvings of dragons and direwolves.

Daenerys was nearly moved to tears seeing them. Underneath the table she held Jon's hand tightly. Many of the gifts presented were meant for their children. Sansa presented Daenerys with some clothes she stitched for each of them, some had dragons and some had direwolves.

But once Lord Edmure took his turn, the gifts began to shift to Jon and Daenerys directly. "Your Graces, I have been discussing tactics with my fellow lords of the Riverlands, and given what we know about Cersei Lannisters plan in King's Landing, there could be still be a chance we lose the city." He cleared his throat after the dull reminder. "Given that the Red Keep would also be destroyed, you would be in need of a castle, somewhere at the center of Westeros. So I would give you the castle of Harrenhal and the lands it holds." There was a great murmuring from all the guests. Even though Harrenhal was in a ruin, it was still a mighty fortress, one of the greatest in the world. "When the war is over, I and many of the lords have arranged for the castle's repair to its former glory."

"Lord Edmure," Jon said, "you honor us, but surely such a place to too valuable to simply give."

Edmure smirked at him. "This is all only meant if the Red Keep should fall, but Harrenhal has been the home to near a dozen lords, all of whom failed to keep a hold over it. Harrenhal is a place not meant for any lord or lady, but a King and Queen."

Jon looked at Daenerys and she seemed to not have any issue with such a thing. And if King's Landing is destroyed, the lands would be defiled by the wildfire. People would need a new place to settle and the area around Harrenhal was vast and rich as far as Jon knew. And the Blackwater Rush did fork into the Gods Eye lake, making it perfect for ships to port. Maybe Edmure was right, it's a place meant for Kings and Queens.

"Thank you, Lord Edmure. Even if the Red Keep should remain standing, we'll be sure to remember the generosity you have given the Queen and I."

Edmure bowed to both of them before his wife, Roslin, stepped forward and bowed to her knees.

"My king," she spoke softly and with a tone of fear in her voice, "my family dishonored the Stark's by breaking the guest right. They killed King Robb and Lady Catelyn and dishonored their bodies. But, my father kept something as a trophy, something that belongs in Winterfell." She held the box out in front of her. "Inside is the skull of Robb Stark, the King in the North, the only remnants of his body."

Jon froze, as did Sansa, Arya, and Rickon when they heard about the contents of the box. Jon stood up from his seat and stepped down from his table. Roslin looked absolutely terrified, but Jon calmly took the box from her and opened it. There was white skull inside, and though there was no skin or face or hair, Jon knew in his heart that this was Robb's. He gently closed the lid and knelt down to Roslin.

"I can't thank you enough for returning his remains, Roslin. And you have no reason to be afraid. You had no part in Robb's death."

Roslin looked up to Jon, relieved and faintly smiling. She rose up with him. "Thank you for your mercy, your grace." Edmure led her away from Jon as soon as he returned to his seat next to Daenerys. One of the servants took the box from Jon to be placed in his room until the time was right to place it in Robb's tomb in the crypts.

Edric Dayne approached Jon and Daenerys after Rolsin, he too held a box in his hands. "My King, my Queen, if I recall, I lost a duel and a wager. So as promised," Edric opened the box and revealed a crown adorned with many fine rubies, "the Crown of Aegon the Conqueror." Many of the lords were marveled when they saw light flickering from the rubies and the Valyrian steel.

Jon never imagined it to look as beautiful as it did, the ripples of the steel made a pattern like fire and the rubies were as red as Ghost's eyes. The fittings that held the jewels were careful shaped into dragon claws.

Edric stepped forward and brought the crown up to the both of them, but Daenerys was the one intrigued by it the most. She took it out of the box and held it delicately like she would the dragon eggs. "The crown worn by our ancestors." She spoke. "The crown of the dragons." She set it back into the box. "Lord Edric, you are an honorable man for returning this artifact of our house back to us. We shall not forget it."

Edric bowed his head and gave the box to another one of the servants. After him was Gendry, and he had a large grin about his face.

"I don't mean to make this a competition of who gives the best gift, but mine will speak for themselves." One of his men was behind him with a object covered by a cloth. "With the help of the Umber smiths, and four straight days of work, we have created a sword worthy of you."

Gendry grabbed onto the cloth and tore it away, revealing the best sword Jon had ever seen. He got out of his seat, eager to see his new weapon. At first he thought it was a recreation of Longclaw given that the pommel was a white direwolf with ruby eyes, but at closer look, the pommel looked more fearsome and less of a wet wolf, there was more than what he noticed. The guard was shaped into two dragons, their heads made the ends of it and their wings intertwined and made a rise, and in the center was a small gem of dragonglass. The handle was no longer black, but white, the wood was of a weirwood tree. Two thirds down the handle, just below the pommel, was a metal ring with a dragon and a direwolf. Wrapped in a spiral down the wood of the handle was a single black chain. "The hilt is beautiful, but it pales in comparison to the blade." Gendry took the sword and held the handle to Jon.

Jon felt the excitement he once did when he first drew Longclaw from its scabbard and his brothers of the watch chanting 'sword, sword, sword!'. Jon pulled the blade out of the scabbard and listened to the metal sing out as a pure black blade emerged. There was a moment of bewilderment before everyone around was in awe. In the fuller was a valyrian star par pattern, but the heart of the stars were like pure silver.

But as Jon held it in his fingers, there was something amidst his feelings that didn't feel right. A new sword that had yet to spill blood, Jon couldn't help but feel morose when he thought how many would die by this sword's blade.

Before Jon could express his gratitude, Gendry motioned for another one of his men forward who had another object wrapped in cloth. "And with the efforts of twelve smiths after teaching them how to work Valyrian steel, eight days of work, and trusting in a hunch, we made this." Gendry pulled the cloth off and revealed something no one would have dreamed of seeing in this day and age.

Dazzling in the light of the pit fire was a breastplate decorated specifically for Jon, and it was made entirely of Valyrian steel. There was a great many of inlays in the armor that bordered two direwolf heads facing inwards at the belly. Between the heads was a tail that was part of a three headed dragon, flying up. Above the center head at the color, the inlays formed the shape of the rising sun, crowning the dragon in the dawn.

Jon, and just about everyone, was at a loss for words. "This is… how… where did you get the steel?"

Gendry couldn't hide a smile that showed nothing but pride in his work. "When we were at the Wall after the battle, I heard about the giant scythe being destroyed by the White Walkers magic. I remembered that the only sword I was able to make successfully was from the steel of Rickon's broken sword which was also broken by their magic. I'm not sure of the details of how, but I had the idea that maybe you need steel touched by magic to make Valyrian Steel. Thanks to some secrecy from the Queen and Lord Tyrion, we got some dragonfire to light a forge and some blood to quench the material. I took a swing at it with my hammer and… let's just say I have a better one in the works now."

Jon looked back at Daenerys and saw she looked very proud at Gendry's work. "I thought you could use a good surprise."

This was beyond a surprise. Valyrian Steel armor had greater value than the weapons did. The breastplate was worth a castle, a big one. "It looks amazing, Gendry."

"Thank Lord Tyrion for that, he gave us the design."

Jon looked over to Tyrion who was sitting with Ser Jaime and Ser Bronn. "I thought it would be grand if it displayed the victory of the War for the Dawn. As far as the direwolves , we all know that you should embrace your true heritage more, but as I once said to you, never forget what you are, surely the rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor and it can never be used against you." For once, a metaphor could be taken literally.

"Gendry," Jon said, "I can't accept something so valuable as a gift. Do you know the worth of this?"

"More than a lot of gold, but it doesn't compare to what I already have that you've given me. A home, a name," he tilted his head to Arya, "a family."

Jon couldn't help but agree with Gendry in that matter. No amount of gold nor possessions or titles would ever match the worth of his family. He smiled at Gendry and embraced his new brother by law. "Thank you, brother."

There weren't many more after Gendry who presented gifts to Jon and Daenerys, but those that did tried their best to increase the value of what they gave with honeyed words. Regardless of the value or quality, Jon and Daenerys gave their gratitude and cherished the gifts. The last of the gift bearers were the Free Folk, all the leaders of the remaining fifteen clans and new Northern Houses stepped forward all together.

Representing them all was Siggorn Thenn. The Hall quieted down. "Lord Snow, King Jon, you were the second man of the Night's Watch to give more than a damn about us while we froze beyond the Wall and died at the hands of the Night King and the White Walkers. Most of us didn't follow you to leave Hardhome until it was too late, and we fought together to take back your home and win against our oldest and greatest enemy. We don't have any possessions worthy of giving to a King and Queen, but someone once reminded us that we're a part of your Kingdom now, we live by your laws, and your rules. We can never repay the debt we owe for freeing us from such a life of suffering and leading us to victory, but we can start."

Siggorn and the other clan leaders got down on one knee and bowed to Jon and Daenerys. Jon was probably the only one in the room who felt the gravity of what they were doing. The Free Folk never bent the knee to any King, until now.

Jon stood from his seat and was stunned. He gathered himself and addressed the Free Folk. "You came to us as Wildlings, as Free Folk. We've fought for thousands of years because of which side of the Wall we lived on when it was built. Let today mark an end to those fights, and rise as people of the North, our people."

Many banged their tables and cheered as the Free Folk rose as Northerners. Jon wasn't sure if he was meant to feel proud of them, but he did feel pride for their choice and an unyielding gratitude.

With all gifts given, the festivities went on and many began to dance around the giant pit fire. Alys and Siggorn earned a great many cheers throughout the hall when they both got so lost in their dance that they both leapt over the flames of the fire. It was daring and amazing.

Danys's size made her unable to join a dance with Jon, so she took to conversation while Jon had a dance with Sansa. He didn't know how to step and constantly fumbled his footing, nearly tripping over Sansa. She merely laughed every time he almost did.

"Jon," Sansa said, "it would help if you didn't always look down at your feet."

"Then how am I not supposed to step on you?" He didn't pay attention to his surroundings and bumped into Wyman Manderly, though it felt more like being hit by a boulder, and Jon crashed to the ground. Sansa started to laugh heavily and so did Wylla Manderly while Wyman started to apologize.

"Your grace, forgive me, I didn't see you!" Wyman helped Jon up to his feet.

"The fault is mine, dancing isn't my greatest of skills."

Wylla snorted. "Cleary, your grace." Her smiled died as she stepped closer to him and spoke quietly that her father would not hear. "Do you happen to know where Lady Brienne's squire is? I haven't seen him with her this evening."

"Podrick? I think he's with Lord Tyrion and Ser Bronn."

Wylla's eyes widened and she grew a happy smile. "Thank you, your grace." She turned back to her father. "I'm a bit tired from dancing, grandfather. If you'll excuse me, I'd like to go partake in some wine with friends."

"Oh, wonderful." Wyman said, "I could use a drink myself-"

"No! But… you have yet to dance with Wynafred, and it is her last day as your granddaughter before she is… made woman." There was an awkward silence between Wyman and his granddaughter

"Fair point. Go on then, and don't get too far into your cups." Wylla scurried away while Wyman searched for Wynafred.

"Come on," Sansa said, "let's try again and this time stop thinking so much and… pretend like your dueling me."

Jon rolled his eyes as he took Sansa's hands again. He humored himself and pictured that they were in duel. When she retreated back, Jon advanced where she stepped and they started to do what could be called dancing.

"Sansa smiled at him. "You see? You can do it." They started to move a bit faster and occasionally bushed past another pair. Jon caught of glimpse of Daenerys watching him and she seemed a little envious. Jon had never danced with her before, on fact his dance with Sansa was his first.

Part of the hall erupted in cheers and laughter and both Jon and Sansa looked over and saw that Arya and Gendry had taken to a drinking contest. Gendry had lost after spitting out the ale he just drank. Jon noticed that Arya's arm was reaching to Gendry in between his legs.

"Cheap move," Jon commented, "but effective." He noticed Sansa smiling, amused at them, but then he also noticed her smile die and a hint of somberness take over. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Sansa shook her head. "It's nothing."

"You look like you're brooding which means it's something." Jon lead Sansa from the floor to some vacant seats at one of the tables. He sat with her and looked Sansa square in the eye. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's just…" she sighed out and gathered her thoughts. "It's a little jealousy is all."

"Jealousy?" Jon looked back at Arya and Gendry and the two of them were sharing a deep kiss after their competition. They were happy together, Arya especially despite her rejected feelings to being married. "I see. She never wanted what you always have and now she has it."

Sansa scoffed at him. "After two unwanted marriages, I've wondered if it's my fate to never find someone to love, but to be sold off again and again."

"Sansa, we promised you that would never happen again." Though Tyrion was a man of negotiation, compromise, and convincing words, he had no plans whatsoever for Sansa to be married off. She suffered more enough in King's Landing and more in the Hands of Littlefinger and the Bolton's. "If anyone tries, they'll have to get me and three dragons to get to you."

Sansa smiled a little, but she still had some doubt. "Thank you, Jon."

"Your grace," Edric Dayne said as he approached.

"Lord Edric, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I was hoping to discuss the matter we previously did at the Dragonpit regarding Dorne's involvement in the war." Jon had completely forgotten about that. With the dead defeated, Edric was planning to return his armies back to Dorne to take no part in the fight against Cersei. "But like I said, I was hoping to, but then I realized that speaking of politics on a night like this would butcher the mood. So instead, might I steal Lady Sansa for a dance?"

Jon looked back to Sansa and she was wide eyed and caught off guard. "I, um, yes, I would love to."

Jon smiled as she took Edric's hand and the two of them joined the next dance. Sansa seemed to completely forget about her words with Jon and was absolutely radiant. Though dancing with someone who knew how probably helped.

While Jon decided to just observe the hall, Tyrion found him and took a seat next to him. "You know, I always had a vision of something like like when I was Hand of the King to Joffrey." Tyrion informed. "Of course it was a fantasy that was free of him and had someone else on the throne."

Jon chuckled to himself. "Yet here it is, with one last war to wage."

"Yes, and whoever wins this war will establish the most powerful dynasty in our history, one that could last a thousand years." Tyrion raised his tankard of ale. "Here's to a righteous victory."

Jon raised his own. "A victory for bastards and dwarfs." The clinked their tankards and each took deep drinks.

With the night drawing out and no bedding ceremony, the Wilding men picked up their wives and stole them from the longhouse to Winterfell, although Josera instead set Gwyn on his snowbear, Shadow, and led the two of them instead.

Jon and Daenerys had too decided to turn in for the night, feeling fatigued from the food and excitement. They changed out of their clothes into their evening attire. Many of their gifts were brought to their room, Daenerys had the ironwood cribs placed at the foot of their bed. She sat by them in a chair and was feeling her hands over the intricate designs carved into them while Jon was looking through some of the other gifts. He was drawn to the crown of Aegon the Conqueror and for some reason was becoming mesmerized with it, like he had a certain attachment to it.

The rubies in the front flickered in the light of the fire and had a certain glow to them, just like the ruby of Melissandre's necklace.

"You should try it on." Daenerys said. "You are Aegon Targaryen after all."

"Aye, but I'm not a conqueror." Jon set the crown down on the table. "That's not who I am."

Daenerys got up from the cribs and walked over to him and took the crown from the table. "You're right, you're not a conqueror. But you fought greater battles than most have, the ones that truly meant something. So what do think you are?" She lifted the crown and set it on Jon's head. He hardly felt it when it was placed their, it fit perfectly. "You're a hero, Jon, and no one can ever deny that you are. You've fought and died for the right thing. Now because of you, we have a get to live for it." She pulled him down to her and laid a light kiss on him. "Now come to bed, we have much to do tomorrow."

They both let rest take over, listening to only the sounds of the soft winter winds blowing through the window and the crackling of the logs in the fire. Daenerys laid on her side and both she and Jon had a hand over her belly. There was the constant feeling of a kick, reminding both of them that it wouldn't be long until the lives inside would be in their arms.

As the veil of sleep took over, Jon began to have strange sents lingire in his nose, and an abundance of noises filled his ears. He started to see things in ways he rarely did in his sleep, whenever he would warg into Ghost.

He was in the woods with Nymeria and three wolves from her pack, both of them were hunting for food, and they had found the trail of a fat boar. It was close, and getting lazy. The five wolves advanced swiftly through the snow, their movements silent as could be.

The boar was in sight, and a hunger for blood filled Ghost. The three wolves of Nymeria's pack went to flank it while Nymeria would attack straight on. Ghost would intercept the prey if it managed to get away from the attackers.

Nymeria and her wolves move in fast and took the boar by surprise, one of the wolves managed to bite it at the neck. It squealed out and slammed another wolfe in with its head and broke free. Ghost began to run as fast as he could, baring his teeth and ready to sink them into the plump meat. As soon as the boar came close, Ghost lunged forward and tackled the boar down. He bit down hard on the boar's head and twist it, breaking the preys neck and killing it instantly. The kill was his, and so was the first bite. Ghost tore into ribs and ate the blood soaked flesh, relishing every bit of it. The other wolves had begun to partake of the meat as well, sharing in the delicious taste of the animal.

Ghost had his fill and let his sister and the others finish it off. He wandered to a small clearing while licking his lips clean of the blood staining the fur around his mouth. From there, the sky was in full view and Lyarras could be seen flying. Ghost could hear her screech and felt the pain in her voice. She missed Ygris, she wanted to fly with her sister. It made Ghost remember his brothers and sister. All of them were gone except for Nymeria, and all of them had died alone.

Nymeria had trotted over to Ghost and sat down next to him. She nudged Ghost with her head, trying to get him to stop feeling sad. She missed them too, but she was strong and didn't show her sadness.

A new scent appeared, one that stunk of sweat. There was a pack of animals nearby, big animals. There were sounds of running starting to appear, no, not running, galloping. There was a herd of horses riding hard. There were going to the big stone house that the masters were in. There were more scents, scents of men, men like the ones that smelled of sand and the sun. all the horses had riders, and they were getting close enough to count. There were twenty horses, but twenty three riders. Only when the scent of three children became distinct did it make sense.

If they were going to the stone house, then they might attack the masters. Ghost howled out to the night and Nymeria had joined him, calling out to the wolves of Nymeria's pack to go back to the fields of men and horses around the stone house.

Jon blinked himself awake when he heard the sounds of howling echoed from the window. He sat up when he realized his dream was no dream, but what Ghost was doing right now.

He shuffled out of bed immediately, not realizing he woke up Daenerys.

"Jon? What's the matter?"

"Riders approaching the castle. And they have children with them."

"Riders? What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure. I'll go see what it is. But just in case, wait here." Jon put on his boots and his cloak and made for the door, but stopped and looked over to his new sword leaning against his nightstand. He walked over and took it, strapping the belt around before leaving. Standing guard outside the door was Ser Lorimuss and Qhono. "Ser Lorimuss, go wake Ser Will and both of you meet me in the courtyard. Qhono, ezat Ser Jorah akka vijazerat jin khalessi." His Dothraki wasn't the best, but good enough for Qhono to understand.

It didn't take long for Ser Will and Ser Lorimuss to meet with Jon in the courtyard along with fifty of the house guard. By the time they were gathered, a group of riders had been spotted riding to Winterfell. Jon wasn't sure what to make of them, but he wasn't taking any chances in case this was a ploy by Cersei to get into the castle. He was still uneasy of Rickon's vision and his telling of the next war starting. There was no word of any kind of attack from the south, but no one was sure what to look for.

"I want twenty men with crossbows at the ready at the gate, now." Jon commanded.

One of the men acting as a lookout called down. "The riders almost at the gates!"

Jon and his Kingsguard walked up to the battlements and looked over and saw the riders approaching the gate. The archers had crossbows in hand, loaded and waiting.

A lone rider advanced ahead of the others and halted when he came to the closed gates and called out. "My name is Ser Raymen Teller, captain of the guard of Starfall. I need to speak with Lord Edric Dayne immediately!"

Jon looked at the other riders and saw that only ten of them were armed, the rest looked like servants. "Dismount first, and you shall be permitted inside the castle." The riders immediately got off their horses and gathered at the gate. Jon leaned over to one of the guards. Go wake Edric Dayne from his chambers and bring him here as fast as you can."

"Yes, your grace." The guard ran off as Jon made his way back to the courtyard, keeping one hand one his sword.

"Open the gates!" Jon ordered. By the time the gates opened and Ser Reymon and his company entered, Jon stood before them and his entire guard was at the ready to defend themselves. "Forgive the precautions, Ser Raymen, but you can understand that riders in the night from the south is a little suspicious, especially just after a war has been won. Lord Edric will be here shortly."

Before Ser Raymen could reply, the sound of a baby crying echoed in the courtyard. Ser raymen looked back to one of his company, a woman. She had a babe in her arms and beside her were two children.

"Please, my lord." Ser Raymen said to Jon, "we've been riding for days without rest and never experienced such a cold."

Jon looked at the children and saw them looking sad and miserable. A little girl and a young boy. "Of course, if you hand over your arms, we shall provide proper cloaks for you all." Ser Raymen and the other armed men didn't hesitate to remove their sword belts and hand them over the Winterfell guard. Some of the men rushed to get what was promised and returned shortly, along with Edric Dayne.

"Ser Raymen," Edric said, "What are doing-"

"Papa!" the little girl and boy rushed forward to Edric, looking both happy and sad to see him.

Edric on the other hand was in complete shock. "Ashara? Gerold? Seven hells!" he rushed forward and fell to his knees to embrace his children who were now crying. "It's alright, my loves, I'm right here. Arthur, where's Arthur?"

The woman with the babe in her arms stepped forward, the babe had stopped crying by now. "He's here, milord." the woman replied.

Edric stood up with his arms around his two children while they clinged to his clothes. He approached the woman and looked down at the babe, relieved. He looked back to Ser Raymen. "Raymen, what's going on? What are you all doing here… and where's Neela?"

"My lord," Ser Raymen said, "Starfall was attacked by Essosi sellswords, four mercenary companies. We had no chance of defending the castle against them and had to flee. The last we saw of the castle, it was in lost one of our ships on the way and forty of the household."

"Neela," Edric demanded, "was Neela on that ship?"

"No my lord, she… she was in the orchard with some of the women when we were attacked. She was brought to the gates and ordered us to retreat. They killed the other women, but I heard the leaders say that Lady Neela was to be kept a hostage to Queen Cersei."

"False Queen," Edric said, anger present in his voice. "No real queen would break a truce and attack a defenseless household." Edric turned to face Jon. "Your grace, about my decision to stay out of the war, I've had a sudden change of heart. The Dornish armies will gladly ride with you and destroy any army Cersei Lannister has."


Next chapter shall be written as soon as I can do it. Also, I welcome any ideas for a name for the new sword, but What I am looking for is something with meaning in it. Now SHOW ME THE MONEY!