A/N: Ugh, this last one. Not sure I like it very much, but it had to be done. And now it's done. If anyone wants to make a story where Jon runs his own little Reconquest of Westeros post-Long Night, well here's somewhere to start I suppose. As for me, I'm done for now. Heart's still broken and all that jazz. See ya.

From a distance, Howland Reed watched the lad as he spoke with Ned. And for a moment it was as if he was back in Dorne, watching Lyanna and Ned say their farewells all over again - so much to say and yet so little time to say it in. When he'd had the vision of him marching south under the Dragon Queen's banner, he'd known it was time to act or else watch the boy break in a way that he would never recover from.

Even now, as Jon sobbed for the loss of his father a second time, Howland knew he had done right. This he could recover from, the things he would do from hereon out he could also withstand...but the loss of his beloved in the name of duty? Experience had shown him that such wounds were the kind you died from.

A muted huffing at his side caught his eye and he glanced over at the foliage where a pair of Wierwood red eyes stared back at him, anxiety shining in them as well as a need to comfort his human. Well, who was he to deny a Direwolf anything? He certainly never managed it with Lyanna, and so he merely nodded with a small sad smile.

The eyes disappeared into the green again, a mere rustling of leaves telling him there had ever been anything there at all, before the large white figure of his Lady's ghost reappeared on the far bank of the pool beneath the Laughing Wierwood Tree where Jon remained unmoved. The first few nudges barely got any reaction from him, but then the wolf nuzzled himself under Jon's arm and the lad finally realised he wasn't alone.

"...Ghost?" Howland barely made out his startled whisper before he tossed whatever questions he had and pulled his wolf into a deep embrace, more a boy than a man now, quiet shaky breaths the only giveaway that he was crying again.

"You have a very loyal friend there." Howland commented after he'd made his way around the pool to stand beneath the Tree with them both, Jon still kneeling and hugging Ghost tight. "Frightfully intelligent too. He was here even before me and I was here long before you, as if he knew this was where you would meet again."

"...Well..." The lad murmured, finally pulling away to offer a watery smile at his wolf, "He's made a habit of showing up when I least expect him. Haven't you boy?"

Ghost just tipped his head at him before nudging him with his nose again, the meaning quite clear; it was going to take more than asking a big man with red hair to take him away to separate them.

As nice as the moment was though, the world could only wait so long for Jon to stand again and so Howland stepped forward and patted his shoulder for his attention. "So...you spoke with your father...how do you feel about that?"

"I..." He could see it on the tip of his tongue, the words 'I don't know' ready to be spoken, but then Jon pulled back and a look of thought crossed his features before turning his eyes to the Laughing Tree again, noticing how the branches swayed in the breeze. "I think...that the winds are changing."

Oh? So he had spotted that, the winds now blowing East where once they blew South, but did he understand what that meant? Instead of offering an answer, Howland just nodded lightly beneath his cloak. "Well, some would say change is good, necessary even. Is that not what your Queen will offer?"

"...Maybe..." The uncertainty was clear as Jon spoke it, his shifting gaze filled with memories and considerations, before he let out a sigh and ruffled Ghost's fur again. "And maybe not."

"Oh? So then you will return North?"

The wish to do so was there, he could see it the moment he uttered the words, the desire to go home...but then the wish died as a dark frown crossed Jon's face and he finally took to his feet again, merely shaking his head before glancing up at the stars. "No. That way's closed to me too."

"So...what then?"

The brooding gaze remained on the sky for a moment longer before Jon glanced down to face him again. "'Ice will freeze the land to the root and Fire will burn it all to ash' that's what Father said...and I think I know what he meant."

And then there was that troubled look again, the one that told Howland that he really didn't like the conclusion he'd come to. "If I do what he wants me to, it'll divide the Seven Kingdoms more than ever, half the Realm will hate me the moment I do it...but more than that I'd be defying Dany and..." ah there was the root of it coming, the almost shamed expression coming out. "it means I'll have to stand against Sansa and Arya as well...how am I ever going to face them if I do this?"

Family's the problem is it? He could understand that, but a huff from Ghost between them told him all he needed to know of what Lyanna would do if she heard her son speaking like this. And so, in her memory, he would do what she could not.

WHACK!

Jon didn't feel the pain until a second after Howland's stick had removed itself from his skull, when he did though he went reeling backwards, hands going for his head. "SEVEN HELLS, WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?!"

"What does it matter?" Howland asked back, chuckling a little at the lad's stricken look. "It's in the past."

"Yes but it still hurts!" Jon snapped back, rubbing his brow one more time, still wincing as he finally left it alone. "Gods, I'll be feeling that for a week!"

"Ah yes, the future does have its own aches too." Howland acknowledged sagely, offering the lad a commissary pat on the shoulder and barely raised an eyebrow when he was shrugged away. "But the brilliance of the future is that it is unwritten! You can make of it what you want! And whilst there will be pains along the way, the hurts of the past will teach you how to navigate them."

And then he took another swing at the lad. He saw it coming this time and hopped back, clearly seeing how much it'd hurt to be clobbered again by it.

"There!" Howland crowed at the boy the moment he found his feet again. "You see? You can learn! So tell me, Your Grace, what are you going to do?"

There was a moment of silence between them...and then Jon smirked before stepping towards him, hands outstretched. "Well first...I'm gonna take your stick!"

Eh?

A second later, his stick was out of his hands and in those of the strong Northman before being tossed away back towards the branches.

"No!" The crannogman launched off in a panic, he couldn't lose that stick! That stick had been in his family for generations, it offered fine learning material which he would happily demonstrate to that boy the moment he got it back. Of all Lyanna's traits why did that suddenly have to manifest?

He wouldn't get the chance though, even as he picked it back up the air around him suddenly burned hotter, a shriek suddenly piercing the air as the King's Dragon suddenly soared over him to land on the Isle of Faces.

"No! No! Get off this island at once!" He yelled at the creature, but Rhaegal took no notice of him as he knelt down to let Jon up. Ghost was the first to hop on though, as if a Direwolf riding a Dragon was something he'd been doing all his life, followed by his chuckling master. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?!"

"Isn't it obvious?" Jon asked, situating himself properly on his dragon's back. "Those Kingdoms won't conquer themselves!"

With that parting declaration he turned away to whisper something against Rhaegal's neck and a moment later the dragon was picking up speed, flapping his massive wings which blew poor Howland off his feet. When he got back up, the dragon had left the ground and was soaring back towards Harrenhal.

A moment passed...and then Howland crowed joyously at the departing form.

"GOOD! GO ON! GET OUT OF HERE!" He'd done it! He'd actually gotten through to that thick head of his. He couldn't help himself and tossed his head back laughing. When that wasn't enough he let out a howl that even Jon's Direwolf would be proud to hear.

When he finally came down from his high, Howland retreated back into the trees to smile at the Laughing Tree again. "We did it, Lya. He's on his way."

And maybe it was because he was so sure of it that he finally felt the weight of the shield on his back, Crannogmen weren't meant to carry such things. He'd been carrying it for so long, maybe it would be good to finally put it to rest. So, with a heavy sigh, he pulled the shield off his back and situated it among the branches of the Laughing Tree, so that the painting of the same tree faced outwards.

The Hour of the Wolf had ended, the Rise of the Dragons had passed. Now it was time for the Song of Ice and Fire.

He lives in you
He lives in me
He watches over...
Everything we see

Into the water
Into the truth
In your reflection...