AN: Sorry this is a bit shorter. Writing in Jon's perspective was a bit harder this time. But it also felt like a good place to end the chapter. The next one will be more exciting.~

Every Loyalty

.

Chapter VI:

Eyes to the South

Ser Davos's chamber door was left open enough for Jon to see inside. He stopped short of entering the room; for some reason, what he saw allowed himself to smile.

"Is that a, a T or an F?"

Davos pushed a piece of parchment over for Willem to see. He squinted at the writing. "Looks like a B to me."

"Aye, I'm sure it says Cersei, birsb ob her name, Queen ob the Andals and the Birst Men."

Will didn't want to laugh, but the man's delivery was admittedly more infectious than his humor. So Will did laugh a little, shaking his head. Then he went back to practicing his own letters.

"All this bullshit fancy calligraphy…" Davos muttered, but he was still smirking. "Think I'll ever be able to write this flowery?"

Will shook his head again. "Even my handwriting's better than yours."

Davos leaned in an took a peek at Will's parchment.

"Not by much."

The boy rolled his eyes.

"Oh! Hello there, your grace."

Jon watched Will's attention perk up when Davos greeted him. He nodded to both of them.

He had come in intending to work on some plans with Davos, but it had finally stopped snowing for a while. Maybe some fresh air was in order.

"How about a ride?" he asked.

Jon could tell Will had spotted his sister on their way out of the keep, because he was looking firmly in the other direction.

They exchanged polite greetings, and Larisa asked, "Another sparring session?"

"A riding lesson," Davos said. "The weather's more forgiving today."

Larisa was purposeful in catching her brother's eye.

"Listen well," she reminded him. Will didn't answer, only lifted his chin as they moved on.

In that one gesture, Jon could finally see the family resemblance between them. He also got the feeling Larisa hadn't told her brother about the night those men confronted her.

But soon that thought left him as they reached the stables. The smell of horse shit hit them before anything else.

"Ridden a horse before?" Davos asked.

"'Course I have," Will said. But he still looked unsure of where to start when they stopped in front of a brown mare.

Once, a stable boy came with the tack for their three horses, Jon showed Will how to secure the saddle and the stirrups, and for his duties as a squire, how to secure Davos's weapons for him. Finally Jon helped him on the horse, after which it was clear that the boy knew how to ride, at least.

For the first time in months, they exited the gate of Winterfell and started their trek through the large trees that made up the surrounded forest behind the keep, away from the Kingsroad.

Jon looked over at Will, who rode between him and Davos. The boy looked about average size for his age and couldn't be more than nine years old. He was younger than Bran, certainly. Younger than Olly, and even Rickon had been.

He was also a golden-haired Lannister that probably had a rich childhood in his southern house. A house that turned its back on his family.

And Jon couldn't be more irritated, knowing that he already felt responsible for the boy.

"So you want to be a knight?" he asked.

Will nodded. "My brother was going to be one…I think I could be good at it one day too."

"If you work hard enough."

Will smiled in agreement. Then he let out a huff that was visible in the frigid air.

"Lara doesn't get that…I wouldn't learn anything if it were up to her."

"She understands better than you think," Jon said. Davos looked over, his brow raised.

"She doesn't understand anything."

"What makes you say that?" Davos interjected.

"'Cause she talks too much and never listens," Will griped. "And always thinks she's right."

In Jon's mind, he could see that woman as she was—all proud anger and defiance when he spoke about Martyn. And then when they met in the Godswood, she barely let him apologize for his men's behavior.

She was a trueborn lady all right, but she danced along the line of respect and what was acceptable with that temper of hers. Probably too often for her own good.

And Jon couldn't help but smirk at the thought. At least until he noticed Davos glancing at him, vaguely grinning.

"Aye, just about everything you want in a woman," he remarked.

Will made a grimace. Meanwhile Jon frowned at how Davos was still looking at him with amusement, like he had something figured out.

Well, he doesn't, Jon thought.

"Let's start headin' back."

When they returned to Winterfell, Davos allowed Willem to join the other children being trained in archery.

Jon had just settled back in his chambers when Maester Wolkan knocked and announced himself. Jon opened the door to him and the maester handed him two raven scrolls.

"One is from the Citadell."

"And the other?" Jon asked.

"From Dragonstone."

Frowning, Jon took that message first, and then the second, from Sam. What he read in both had him on a set path to Davos, then his sister, and then within a few days, his whole house and all his bannermen in the North. He stood before all of them in the great dining hall.

"This message was sent to me by Samwell Tarly," he explained to them. "He was my brother at the Night's Watch. A man I trust as much as anyone in this world. He's discovered proof that Dragonstone sits on a mountain of dragon glass."

Murmurs of interest raised in the hall, and Jon passed Sam's message to Lord Glovett to read. Jon then raised the second message.

"I received this a few days ago, from Dragonstone. It was sent to me by Tyrion Lannister."

The men voiced their wariness at even the mention of another Lannister, as many eyes went to the two already in their midst, sitting with Davos and Sansa. Jon didn't mean to hazard a glance in their direction, but he briefly caught the mild surprise on both of their faces.

"He's now Hand of the Queen to Daenerys Targaryen," Jon said, moving on. "She intends to take the Iron Throne from Cersei Lannister, she has a powerful army at her back, and if this message is to be believed…three dragons."

He quickly moved on past the more alarmed protests in the room. "Lord Tyrion has invited me to Dragonstone to meet with Daenerys…"

He hesitated, just long enough to look back at Sansa and his advisor. They weren't going to like this, but it was the only way forward he could see.

"And I'm going to accept."

Perhaps he shouldn't have been so caught unawares this time, when it was his turn to be found sitting alone in the Godswood.

"Am I disturbing you, your grace?"

Jon raised his head and quirked a small smile.

"It's only fair," he said. Larisa's mouth quirked upwards. She brushed the snow off a nearby root and sat down.

"So…you've seen him." He met her gaze, curious yet still reserved and somewhat disbelieving. "The Night King."

Jon nodded. "He's coming, and we're not ready."

If they were able to get their hands on that dragon glass and forge weapons out of it, perhaps they'd be able to cut half the wights down to ash. But they needed allies if they were going to meet the Night King's army and not be decimated. Even a Targaryen, with a Dothraki hoard, an army of Unsullied soldiers and three dragons, would make one hell of an ally.

Larisa looked away from him, in a way that told him she was contemplating more than just what was beyond the Wall.

"All of my bannermen, my advisor, and even my sister think I'm a fool to travel south on Tyrion's word," he said.

"It's wise advice," she said.

"But?" he asked knowingly. Larisa hesitated, curling a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Your men see Ned Stark in you," she said. "So when you do what you think is right, they will respect your decisions."

For a moment Jon didn't know what to think, let alone what to say. That was the last thing he expected, really. But he saw her hidden worry, and had a feeling he knew why she was really here.

"I know Will has asked to join you and Ser Davos on your journey south."

Jon let out a breath, preparing for the argument, and the sure headache that was likely to follow. "He's reliable, and a quick learner. He's Davos's squire, and that's his decision."

Larisa nodded. "Then allow me to join you as well."

It threw him so much that he couldn't help but laugh.

"I can cook, wash, mend, pour ale—whatever needs doing," Larisa insisted. "I would be more of use helping you negotiate with Tyrion than I would be here."

Jon shook his head, still amused. "I shouldn't be surprised that you're serious."

Larisa straightened. She frowned and gripped her hands in her lap impatiently. "You knew Tyrion for a short time. I've known him since—"

"Aye, I know exactly who your family is. Cersei already wants my head, I don't mean to get more Lannisters plotting behind my back."

Larisa smiled sharply. "Since we're speaking candidly, your grace. Maybe our position isn't completely ideal, but I thought you made it clear that we weren't your prisoners."

Jon sighed. There wasn't much he could say to that, without provoking her further.

Larisa met his eyes, and hers were still proud and honest.

"I owe you every loyalty, and I meant the oaths I swore," she said. "But Will is the only brother I have left."

Jon leaned back against the trunk of the weirwood tree. He tried to weigh how much he could believe. He had thought, on the whole, he was a good judge of character. But his past experience had taught him to be far less trusting.

Still, he knew that she understood well the risk he was taking, meeting Daenerys, even with Tyrion's word. And Jon also knew there would be consequences if he ordered her to stay behind…and he could admit, to himself at least, he didn't want to be forced to carry out the punishment this time.

"We're at war, and there are no boys in war," he said. "There'll come a time when you can't protect him."

She gave a wry smile.

"Will that be today, your grace?"

Sansa sighed in exasperation.

"What?" Jon finally snapped. She sat down across from him at the large table covered in maps and letters and things Jon was studying.

"You're following in Robb's footsteps, almost exactly," she told him. Jon leaned back in his chair and let her talk. He had every confidence that she would run Winterfell smoothly while he was gone; she would have a hand in everyone's business.

"She said it herself. She comes from schemers and liars, and she was playing their game just like the rest of them," said Sansa. "Just like she's playing you."

Jon clenched his teeth and shook his head. "Are you going to question me at every turn?"

Sansa softened a little. She lay a hand on his arm and squeezed gently, her gaze imploring him to understand. But the fact was he did understand her point. He just wasn't as stupid as she seemed to think he was.

Sansa shook her head.

"I'm just telling you what it looks like to everyone else."