This will be brief, do read the note at the end of the chapter! Its got my line of thought for some of the decisions others may consider questionable for this chapter, but for those of you who don't really mind and trust me, just go for the last paragraph in the AN, I need y'alls opinion on something!
Ser Alliser sat behind the Lord Commanders desk, with Maester Aemon sitting by his side while Jon sat across from the both of them. The bastard of Winterfell couldn't help but wonder what exactly they wanted to talk about, Jon having especially noticed the complete lack of hate and scorn from the old knight. Normally seeing the Snow breathing would be enough to have the Thorne curling his lip in disgust, yet now he looked somewhat apologetic. It was... odd to see such an expression on the older mans face.
"Jon, there is obviously much to discuss with everything going on. The most important of which relates to the two dragons that are now sleeping in our castle." To his surprise, it was Ser Alliser who had started the discussion, surprising him yet again by simply using his name, "We've known they were coming for quite some time, and beyond that, we've known why they were coming."
Maester Aemon nodded at Ser Alliser, and Jon idly noted that the only ones in the room to talk to him were a Targaryen and a former loyalist, both coincidentally either the most powerful or respected men at Castle Black. And they had to discuss something with him that was only "related" to the dragons that had saved all their asses. He couldn't help the slowly arising suspicion within him. After all, what in the seven hells did he have to do with the two dragons, and why did the both of them suddenly deem him important enough to know?
"There is really no easy way to tell you this, despite how long we've been thinking of this moment. Believe me when I say neither of us were pleased in the slightest to keep this hidden from you." The sorrow in Aemons eyes and voice was genuine, though what was becoming surprising to him was the increased clarity within his gaze, the violet iris more vibrant than ever. It was like the old maester was suddenly regaining his sight, which should have been impossible.
'Says the man who was dreaming of dragons that just saved his life and witnessed the dead walk.' A little voice whispered in the back of his mind. Perhaps he was in no place to think of what was and wasn't impossible.
The northerner was quickly getting tired of the fact that they were beating around the bush however, "If there is no easy way to tell me, then you need to go ahead and fuckin tell me instead pussyfooting around whatever you have to say." Needless to say, the recent battle and brothers lost were making his temper shorter as well as his patience. He could feel Rhaegal prod at his mind in curiosity, the physical contact and close proximity having increased the strength of their bond. In response he sent back feelings of calm, assuring the dragon all was fine.
Jons eyes returned to Ser Allisers more sorrowful visage, the old knight looking at him with eyes full of regret. "As the maester said, there is truly no easy way to tell you this. We've known the two dragons were coming here for a while now, more specifically, they are here for you. As for why..." He once more turned away from Jon to look back at Aemon, the old maester giving him a confident nod. With the support he seemed to straighten his shoulders, his eyes steeling with resolve, "Well, I'll do as you say and just come out and say it, your grace. You're not the son of Eddard Stark and some noble lady or whore he decided to bed one night. Your father is Rhaegar Targaryen by Lyanna Stark, his second wife."
At first there was no reaction to his words beyond the widening of his eyes. He was quickly overcome with confusion and shock, his legs suddenly feeling weak as he felt the need to grab onto the chair behind him and collapse into it. He could feel Rhaegal once more reacting to him, already preparing to break into the room if need be. He didn't do anything to calm him down, but he wasn't about to encourage the extra aggression either. "W-what?" He croaked out.
It was here that Maester Aemon decided to pick up from where Ser Alliser left off, "Your mother, Lyanna, ran off with Rhaegar to escape a terrible marriage with Robert Beratheon. Though no one can say if she couldn't bring him to heel or not. Regardless she ran off a young woman in love, Rhaegar a man blinded by infatuation and prophecies of saving the world through a story of ice and fire. He cared for her, of that there is no doubt, but likely no more than he cared for Elia. Nothing that was truly love. He sent me regular letters of what went on, though such correspondence slowed once the war began."
"I knew who you were the moment I laid eyes on you, Jon. It was all too easy for me to see you were your fathers son. His features hidden in your face, your sullen nature, it looked all too much like Rhaegar. Your birth coinciding so well with Lyanna Starks death only made things more certain for me." Ser Alliser took over again, his face grim as he explained the truth of his family to him. "Rhaegar was a good man, and would've been a good ruler, but he had his flaws. Luckily, you're not afflicted with the same fixation on prophecies as him."
"Your father was also more than aware of what could befall him on the Trident. He knew Lyanna was pregnant with you, and so despite his belief in prophecy knew he could fall. And so he prepared three sets of documents, if indeed anything should happen to him. One was with Septon Maynards diary, personally recorded by the man who had annulled your fathers marriage to Elia in the first place. The second was with Lyanna, detailing his marriage, his annullment, and you. Eddard likely has these records hidden in Winterfell, or potentially at Greywater watch. And the last set... he sent to me." And so Aemon seemed to finished what they had to tell him.
At this point the Targaryen heir felt numb at the news. He wasn't about to deny any of it, after all it did make some sort of strange sense. The timing of his birth, Eddards absolute refusal to ever tell him about his mother, saying he would only tell him the next he saw him... which would be as a sworn brother of the watch, unable to inherit. Even the fact that he always called him his blood, not his son. As painful as it was to admit it, it made sense. Especially seeing as the only thing Eddard Stark was willing to lie for, was for the safety of his family.
He had proven that when he had admitted to treason and ended up losing his head for it in Kings Landing.
Slowly overcoming the shock and once more filling with resolve, he looked up at the two who had finally decided to reveal to him the biggest secret he had ever known. "Thank you for telling me. Now's not the time for me to dwell on it though. We can't keep up the fighting, nor should we try to. If you'll back me, I want to bring the free folk through the wall. We can settle some sort of terms for their attack, and so they'll be put to use." Despite what lay ahead and his need to do what must be done, he still couldn't help but be somber in the face of the truth.
"If that's what you wish to do your grace, than it shall be done. If anyone tries to fight ya on bringin the wildlings through, they'll receive the threat of my sword. If they still try, then just show em to your dragons." Ser Alliser, so quickly supporting him. It was so odd to him to have him in particular supporting him. It almost didn't feel real. Regardless, as the acting Lord Commander he currently held the power to do what was necessary. With Maester Aemon to give his words of wisdom, hopefully none of the sworn brothers would cause him too much trouble.
Nodding at the two, still feeling numb from all that he had learned, the now revealed Targaryen slowly stood from his seat and made his way out the door. Just before he could leave his grand uncle called out to him, "Jon. Your name... I'd like you to know your name is not Jon Snow. Its Aenar. Aenar Targaryen. That is the name your parents picked out for you. Its not the name you're used to, but believe me when I say its the name you're going to need if you're to do what's necessary." Somehow, it was a bittersweet feeling to finally have a true name.
Nodding silently, he left the room to check on other matters around the castle.
After he left the room, the two simply sat together in silence for a moment to think of their next course of action. Ser Alliser looked up from the desk after a minute of contemplation to look at Maester Aemon with a slight frown, "He doesn't quite understand yet, Aemon. He likely would've made a bigger deal of the occasion if he had. We'll need to explain to him later that he is not a man of the watch, not truly." He knew Jon didn't take pride in the state the watch was in, though he did take pride in the fact that he was serving the realm regardless.
Something that would certainly help with his image to the rest of the realm when it came time for him to declare.
"We've already told the boy enough for now. We need to give him time to adjust and get over the shock, before we then move on to doing our duty. If we overload him with too much all at once with so much left to do, we risk unbalancing him too much." The ancient maester seemed somewhat troubled by the pain they had to cause his nephew, though there was nothing that could be done. The boy needed to know. "I'm surprised you offered no words to object to bringing the wildlings south. Would you care to explain your reasons?"
The knight scoffed and shook his head at the older Targaryen, "Not much to explain. I've given him enough scorn and derision to last a lifetime, the least I can do is support him in this. Besides, I understand his reasoning. I won't ignore the threat the Others represent. I'd rather not deal with a horde of undead giants and wildlings. Better to have them ready to fight with us rather than against us as unfeeling corpses." There was really no other choice when someone thought about it. If he was a fool or petty, he would never let the wildlings through. But at his kings word while a crisis loomed? He was only too eager to obey.
Aemon silently nodded at the acting lord commander, sighing to himself as his shoulders finally slumped and the strength he had drained away, "I am far too old to be dealing with all of this. I think its high time I retired for the night. We can speak with Aenar tomorrow regarding everything else he needs to know, or anything he may want to know. For now, I'm weary from tending to rapers and murderers made warriors. Good night, Ser." With that, Aemon got up from his seat and made his way out the door, seemingly having no issue with finding his way out.
Leaning back in his seat, Ser Alliser sighed as he raised a palm up to his face and simply allowed it to cover his eyes for a moment. It was certainly nice to have finally told Aenar the truth after so much time knowing, but he almost felt hollow. With any luck, he hadn't just doomed the boy to a terrible fate to either be like his father, or worse, a fate like his king cousin.
'A horrifying fate indeed. One that will not come to pass with the two dragons protecting him.'
The first thing Jon did, after spending a short amount of time to ponder on the importance of his new name, was go to visit the free folk that had surrendered to the watch after the appearance of the dragons. He hoped more of Mances chieftains ended up in captivity, though if they were lucky a few of his more monstrous followers were killed in battle like the Magnar. Though it was more than likely that the King-beyond-the-wall still had more than enough established leaders to have a stable army.
The ice cells weren't exactly meant to hold a large amount of prisoners, more to punish disobedient brothers and hold a handful of prisoners at once. The ice cells were filled mostly of the more dangerous free folk, the surviving Thenns and some of the other more crazed warriors. The rest, in the meantime, were locked up in the shieldhall while the watch figured out what to do with them.
It was here that Jon went to visit first, to check on the prisoners and make sure they had received fair treatment. He wasn't all too worried over them escaping, he had a feeling they would be too worried over what the pair of giant fire breathing dragons would do to them if they did. 'Two dragons loyal to you through your lineage. One your uncle hid from you his entire life, paraded as the shame of house Stark.'
It hadn't taken long for the anger to set in after leaving the knight and maester. Not with them, though with his uncle. He knew it was petty and foolish to have grievances against the man, especially considering he still gave him a good life with a family. It was more than he would've had if he had gone to Essos with his aunt and uncle, running from assassins for most of their life.
It didn't change the fact that it hurt. 'If I was never a snow... If I was never Jon Snow... what does that mean for me?' His oaths were made as Jon snow, his promises, his bonds. Though he doubted any of the wildlings or his siblings, 'Cousins.' He mentally corrected with a grimace, not his siblings, would care all that much about his new heritage. He couldn't imagine that Arya would be too pleased to learn he was never their brother in the first place, if only because of all he had been forced to go through because he was claimed as a bastard.
Assuming she was alive, that is. Last he heard, she had gone missing after his uncles arrest. Perhaps the gods would shine a bit of luck upon him and the Starks for once and keep them alive, though he doubted it.
'Though if I was never a bastard... If I was never rightfully Jon Snow in the first place, doesn't that mean I am no longer bound to the Watch? That I am free to do as I please, including seek my birthright?' It was something he had thought over, knowing not only the freedom this would bring him, but the potential power. He had to admit, it was an enticing idea. Though he knew he couldn't make any hasty decisions, not until he was officially released.
With how Ser Alliser spoke to him earlier, he had a feeling it wouldn't be long before that official release came.
Entering the shieldhall, he was quick to make note of the fact that Tormund was among the surviving free folk, though as far as he could tell there wasn't anyone else that was of significant importance. Not many of the free folk really seemed to know him from appearance, with Tormund being the only one to look at him with recognition, and no small amount of anger. "Well, look who it is. If it ain't the fuckin twice turncloak Crow! So what the fuck do ya want, southerner?" That had been more than enough to raise the ire of the rest of the free folk with him, turning their attention to him.
'Luckily they're all in irons.' He thought to himself, "I wanted to speak with you, and to check up on you. I assume the brothers haven't been too rough with you? They've treated ya fairly?"
"The fuck would you care for how they've treated us?" Giantsbane scoffed to himself, sneering at the Targaryen with distaste, "If ya must know, then we've been just fine, thank ya very much for askin, you bird fucking crow. Now is that all, or do ya wanna waste more of my time?" He had no doubt that if Tormund had the chance, he'd bury a dagger in his heart. A disconcerting thought, considering he had been able to call Tormund a friend not too long ago.
Perhaps soon that would be the case, "I want to release you and the free folk that we've currently taken captive. I intend to discuss terms with Mance, and to bring him South of the wall with everyone. Old and young, sick and healthy, strong and weak. Small, and giant." He was pleased to see that his words had the intended affect of both making Tormund less hostile, and more than suitably shocked.
Assuming his silence was permission to explain he continued, "Before I didn't have the authority to let the free folk through. And even if I had the authority before the battle started, there's no way I would've been able to find Mance and avoid being killed on sight. Now the free folk will be a bit more weary of continuing this battle, Mance will be easier to find, and Mance will be more eager to seek a peaceful solution. And more able."
He was more than aware that Mance would've preferred a peaceful solution from the start, but the free folk wouldn't have been. They hated the Nights Watch almost as much as the Watch hated them, and Mance wasn't a king with absolute authority. He was chosen, and if he appeared weak and tried to avoid combat, well, he was certain they'd be in a worse position.
After bloodying their nose and killing a pair of giants however? With any luck, that would make the free folk under Mances command more open to peace. Beyond that, he had a feeling seeing two large, fire breathing dragons would be enough to stun them into cooperation.
Tormund was giving him a look full of skepticism. It was likely he wasn't too trusting after the terms Jon had left them on, something the Targaryen had been more than aware of. And something he couldn't blame the man for. "That's all well and good, Crow. I'll believe it when I see it though. Now, do ya need anything else, or are ya ready to fuck off?"
"One last thing, Tormund." He knew he was wearing the older mans patience, but right now he didn't care. He needed to get this all done and over with before he moved on, "When I release you and the others, I need you to help keep the other free folk away from me. A lot of people are gonna be pissed with me, I'll need you to help make sure I actually make it to Mance."
"Won't your two monsters be able to keep you safe, Crow?" Tormund questioned him, though he seemed more curious now than angry or annoyed.
"They would." He agreed, "They would indeed. By killing anyone who got a bit too angry with fire and teeth. I don't feel it would be received well if I had angry free folk killed by a couple of dragons." It would be more well received if they were killed by other free folk that cared more about making sure their people survived.
Tormund and the rest of the free folk simply stared him down for a few seconds as they contemplated his plan, before Tormund sighed, "We'll do as ya ask, make sure everyone stays off of ya." Here his gaze narrowed, skepticism once more filling his gaze, "If I find out this is some trick to try and kill Mance, monsters or no I will rip you apart and make it slow. Don't fuck us, Crow." With that the Giantsbane turned away, clearly finished with the conversation.
"I have no doubt you would, Tormund. I have no doubt you would." With that he turned and left the shieldhall, leaving the free folk to their thoughts until he was ready to go and seek out Mance.
He still had one more person he needed to speak to.
He couldn't help but be nervous standing in front of the door. He had been told on the way that she had, as expected, put up quite a fight. She had cooled off a bit after she had been treated by Maester Aemon, but had proved hostile to other members of the watch when they had come to check on her or see if she had needed anything. They had been persistent in their checks, if only because they were more afraid of the dragons and direwolf than they were of a single woman.
He was glad to have them to help enforce some authority, even if he technically wasn't in a position to issue such orders.
Taking a deep breath, the former bastard knocked on the door with three sharp raps to get the attention of the inhabitant. "Fuck off ya damn crows! What more do I have to say to make it clear that I'll claw out your eyes if ya keep this shit up!" Well, the brothers were right when they said that she was in no mood to deal with people.
"Its me, Ygritte. We need to talk."
There was a few moments of silence at his introduction before he could hear a chairs legs dragging against the floor. There was a few more moments of silence, hearing nothing come from the room before he finally got an answer, "Fine."
Slowly opening the door, in the event that she had a knife ready to throw at him, he saw her sitting on the cot that was provided in the room. Her bandages were hidden beneath her clothing after having been treated, the maester and his stewards not taking long to tend to her, due to the fact that the crossbows had only inflicted flesh wounds. If the tips of the bolts had been barbed and the crossbows higher quality, he was certain the damage would've been more severe.
After looking her over he decided to speak up, that nervousness still having not left him, "I hope you've been treated well? No one has given you any unnecessary grief?" He knew it was likely the brothers of the watch were unable to be very gentle with her. She would've put up a vicious fight, even in her wounded state. It didn't mean he would hesitate to feed them to the new dragons for any undue grief.
Simply glaring at him for a few moments, her gaze occasionally flickering down to the sword at his side, she nodded, "Its been fine. Wanted to slit every crow cunts throat, but they weren't dumb enough to leave me with any of my weapons. I want my dagger and bow back, Jon." He at least took some solace in the fact that she was still calling him by his name.
"In due time, Ygritte. In due time. First, we need to take care of a few things. Namely, its us." He could see she had likely been expecting such a talk now that he was with the watch once more, and saw the way her glare deepened, "You also have a right to know a few things that have changed. First is my name." Seeing her eyes light with confusion, he went on to explain, "I'm not a Snow. The name I was given by my name is Aenar Targaryen. That makes me, by law, the rightful king of the seven kingdoms. Which also gives me the right to now let the free folk through the wall."
He could see the surprise in her eyes, as well as the hope that began to bloom at the thought that the free folk wouldn't die out as fuel for an army of undead monsters. Continuing before she could reply, it was time for the more unpleasant part, "Beyond that, it means I will be highly sought after in marriage. Due to the fact that I am unmarried, it will be expected when I begin my campaign to take a queen. Someone from the seven kingdoms..."
"Someone not regarded as a foolhardy savage from the true north. Is that right, Jon?" She asked, rage entering her eyes as she emphasized his name. The name he had been born with. He was holding everything at bay, if only knowing he had a job to do. He could collapse and try to deal with all the sudden revelations later when he was in private, his thoughts halting as Ygritte spoke up, "So ya need to set me aside for a proper southern girl. Is that what ya needed to say, Jon?" The anger was there, but there was a very clear undertone of pain and accusation.
The former Snow couldn't stop the sigh from escaping his lips, moving over to the chair provided to her and dragging it over in front of her, sitting down to face her, "Aye, I do. Because if I'm gonna help my family, if I'm gonna help the free folk and stop the Others, then I need to be a king. I have the blood to be one, I just need the manpower. A marriage alliance could either secure me more to the North, or secure the help of another kingdom. No one would ever accept someone from the free folk..."
He couldn't help but think of Maester Aemon had told him a long while back, when he had been so close to abandoning his vows. 'Vows that were never legally binding in the first place.' He thought, but there was no anger to it. Love is the death of duty.
Ygritte is his first love. She'd been good to him, even when she had started to turn him into a pincushion. She cared about him, and he knew he would never forget what he felt for her. But he knew from the start it was something that would never be able to last. Either they would kill one another or be killed by one of their allies. Or be forcefully separated due to their backgrounds.
It didn't make the fact that it had to happen any less painful.
"I have a duty, Ygritte. Both as a living being, and as the rightful king. I need to make sure everyone survives, and to do that, I'll need to play by their rules. If I were to take you as my wife, I'd already be giving those who would be against me an edge."
Her stare had gone blank as he explained why they couldn't work, though he knew the rage hadn't dissipated. Not with how tense she was, with how she clenched her fists. He had a feeling there was a reasonable chance she would try to lunge at him for this, to try and throttle him or to beat the living daylight out of him. Not that he would be able to blame her for doing so.
Slowly nodding to herself, she turned away from him as they sat in silence, before finally breaking it, "I understand why I need to be set aside, Jon. Now, go. I need to be alone for a while."
Releasing another sad sigh, Jon nodded and stood from his seat before leaving the room. He would make sure the brothers of the watch knew to left her alone.
He felt another nudge against his mind at his melancholy state, and allowing a small smile to come to his face, he decided it was about time he went and had some personal time with his dragons.
Walking over to the two great beasts as they rested in the courtyard, he couldn't help but notice Ghost was laying against Rhaegals side, the direwolf having made himself comfortable with the dragon. He had half expected the two to be somewhat at odds, but it seemed the bond the green dragon shared with Jon extended to Ghost as well. He could tell the dragon enjoyed Ghosts company and vice versa, judging by how relaxed they were and the sense of contentment he got from them.
He'd always had a connection with Ghost, and he knew it was related to the Starks history of being a warg. Connecting to Rhaegal however, seemed to have amplified that power, as well as his connection with Ghost, and making sure a powerful bond was put in place with the dragon. It was an odd feeling, but not one that was wholly unpleasant. He knew they were a part of the reason that he was handling the news of his identity so well.
A part of the reason why he wasn't so bothered from it was also his partners thoughts on the matter. They didn't speak, but he got the general gist of what they felt about the whole situation.
'You're the same Jon we met. That will never change, no matter your name or blood.' It was a feeling that helped to keep him level headed.
Laying against the dragons side, resting an arm around Ghosts neck as he did so, he allowed himself to relax against the two. Viserion came over to the small huddle and laid his head down on Jons legs. Though he hadn't bonded to Jon with the same extent as Ghost and Rhaegal, he had still been able to form a connection with him. The smaller dragon was fond of the direwolf, and he had instantly taken a liking to Jon once the bond formed despite his previous misgivings on the matter.
A part of the reason why the dragon had no misgivings was the fact that he would no longer go unheard. He and his sibling had a voice with Jon, it wouldn't be guesswork like it was with their mother. They could get across anything that was wrong, what they needed, or even have an easier time of simply enjoying each others company.
They were proving to be an immense comfort to Jon, one he was already certain he would not be able to do without.
As he looked around, held within the safe embrace of his partners, he couldn't help but take note with amusement the wide berth the brothers of the watch were giving the group. He knew most of them looked at him as if he was either mad, or as a savior. After all, the dragons had clearly come to help him. As he thought about this, he watched as Sam stepped out from the maesters quarters, likely finished with treating the wounded at long last.
His best friend looked over at the group with awe, and only a slight amount of trepidation. Always inquisitive and wondering, seeing a pair of living dragons was likely enough to make Sams day. He watched as his overweight friend made a cautious approach, Ghost giving the Tarly what counted as a warm look, while the two dragons eyed him with curiosity. They knew he was no threat, and could tell from Jon and Ghosts own reactions he was a friend.
"Seems we know why you were having dreams of dragons now, huh Jon?" Though he was addressing the Targaryen, he kept his eyes locked on the two dragons before him. He couldn't help but find it funny how the man commonly known as the most cowardly of those at the watch was one of the few largely unafraid of the two fire breathing reptiles in front of him, "They are... fantastic. Would you... would they mind, if I touched them?"
The dragons were more than a bit amused at their awe, though they felt it was expected considering their splendor. They did appreciate the fact that he was effectively asking for their permission as well, and were fine with his request. Giving the two dragons a fond smile, he looked over at his friend with a nod, "They're fine with it. They appreciate you asking for their permission as well, by the way."
Smiling at his friend and the two dragons, he walked over cautiously, making sure to keep his hands visible and to show he had no ill intent, "What are their names, Jon? I assume you named them, or they already have names of their own?" He asked calmly, now close and running a hand down Viserions back. He hit a particularly good spot for the dragon, who made his satisfaction known and got Sam to begin scratching that spot.
Nodding at the dragon who his friend was scratching first he spoke up, "The dragon you're currently getting to know is named Viserion. Not sure of the names origin, and neither is he. If I had to guess, I would say it would be Daenarys' brother. I'm partly sure of that because the one I'm laying against," He made his point by lightly bumping the back of his head against the dragon behind him, "is named Rhaegal. More than likely after her brother Rhaegar."
Seemingly mulling his name over in his head, Sam nodded at both of the dragons, "Rhaegal, Viserion. Good names. Thank you for allowing me this honor. I appreciate this." He was already making a good impression on the two, treating them with respect and the intelligence they deserved. More than that, he was also appealing to their sense of vanity. Viserion lifted his head up and gave the man a gentle nudge before laying his head back down.
The Tarly had already made a wonderful impression on the pair of dragons. The pair were more than fine with this man, and were already categorizing him as a friend, while acknowledging that Ghost was a good judge for already naming him a friend. "Well, Sam, you just became one of the safest people in Castle Black. They like you." He knew his words had an affect when he saw his friends smile widen. "Feel free to do as much research as ya want, they seem willing to oblige. They'll let you know when they're done. In the meantime..." Making himself more comfortable, with Ghost nestling deeper into his and Rhaegals side, he finished, "I'll take a short nap, before I go treat with Mance."
And so, allowing himself to fully fall into the comfort of his partners, Jon relaxed and fell into a quick sleep, further comforted by the senses of comfort the three around him sent him, encouraging him to take the opportunity to rest while he still had the chance.
He was in no mood to argue with them.
So, while Jon really hasn't lingered on being a Targaryen, notice that it does keep breaking into his thoughts throughout the chapter. Right now, he can't really afford to shut down to handle what's going on. There are thousands of lives that will depend on what he does, and he knows taking the time now to sulk will only cost more people their lives.
The battle. Could it have been avoided? I know its a question that will be asked. "What if Jon was simply told before the battle and they went to talk?" There's reasons touched upon in the chapter for that. But it mainly has to do with the circumstances. While the host of wildlings is massive, and would be easy for a scout to find, it was too dangerous. Not only was it likely for any scouts to be found and killed, but most of the Watch's horses were slaughtered at the fist of the first men. They have very few to even use in the first place, so it would be a slow mission. Furthermore, the free folk would never entertain a peace talk with Jon, not after his attempt at deceiving and betraying them. He'd be killed on sight, and there would be nothing Mance could do to stop it even if he wanted to because, again, as stated in the chapter he is a CHOSEN king. However, if he were to, say, continue to vouch for an enemy, after he had betrayed them, they would likely disobey him. The chances of Jon getting to Mance and successfully negotiating are far too low for Aemon and Alliser to have told him before the battle.
On Ygritte surviving, this is another exercise in duty over love. He's not an idiot, and knows how he's gotta play the game. With how tenuous his position will be, he'll need to marry someone from the Northern kingdom. He may be a northerner, but claiming to be the Targaryen son of Lyanna and Rhaegar, even with evidence, will ruffle some feathers and cause mistrust. And marrying a southern lady over the north, people who raised him and will be the first to declare for him, would be a slap in the face. But no one would accept him marrying someone who would be seen as being lower than even the peasants of the kingdoms, especially not from a group so distrusted in the North. He's already gonna receive trouble for bringing them south at all. So despite how much it pains him, he'll set her aside, as its whats best for everyone. Its a bit different than having to leave the raiding group because they were killing innocent people and grew tired of Jons protesting. He intended to rejoin the watch regardless, but it was also a decision he was forced to make by external forces. This time, its all him.
On that note, who do ya want to see with Jon? I can't justify Margaery or anyone else from the South, and not only does the same go for Dany, I just ain't into it for this story. I've had someone suggest an aged up Lyanna Mormont, which is more than doable considering how old her mother is and the times her elder sisters were born. I could go for Sansa once she's free, from a standpoint of politics as well as Jon potentially not trusting any other suitor. Poor girl was betrothed to Joffery, nough said, than Loras who was gay, she becomes a tool to access the North without even furthering house Stark and Tully, she then marries Tyrion, again with all that nough said, and then marries Ramsay. Like, I've had a pretty shitty love life so far, but I would never wish Sansas experiences on anyone. Do not limit yourselves to these two though, and do make sure to include your reasoning! I don't wanna see a bunch of reviews going, "Alys karstark cuz why not" or along the lines of just because someone isn't often paired. Give me your line of thought and an explanation!
