After four days, Jon could no longer stand being tucked in bed in the heat. Aurelia had left him the night before, after being called by Melisandre, then Selyse, then Tormund. All monopolized her time and in the warmth of his protected room, Jon did little but stretch and test his body's strength and think of her. At times he forced himself to think of other things, of plans and ideas, of what to do with this seeming second chance at life. Yet never did his thoughts stray for long to anything other than her.

Does she trust me again, truly? Am I even to be trusted? How do I keep her now? How could I lose her again?

These thoughts and more ran through his head as he tested his strength, doing push-ups and easing through sword maneuvers.

What do we do now? Where do we go? Where do I belong?

More questions swam as he flexed his left hand and examined the fast-healing wounds in his side. The answer to every question always ended with the same conclusion.

"Aurelia," he breathed. Even her name whispered in the pale light of fires felt like an invocation, a promise of unending devotion. Part of him wondered if it was because she was the last person to see him alive, and the first and last to see him, to know him inside Ghost. His memories of being within the direwolf, being part of him, were muddled. Yet he remembered her. A moment when wolf and the man within were at peace, complete and content. It wasn't just need or desire. He may have stolen her as she said, but she stole him first and no thief in this realm or any other would claim him from her.

As this realization struck, the door clinked open. Jon raised himself up in bed, having resumed his position of rest. Melisandre strode in, Ghost on her heels. The direwolf leapt onto the bed, nuzzled Jon's leg, then lay beside him.

"Good morning, Jon Snow," she said, placing a tray on the table beside his bed. "You seem," she looked him over, "improved."

Jon nodded. "I am ready to be in the world again, I think. Unless you intend to hold me here forever and act as my nursemaid."

A smile crossed her lips, all politeness and no warmth. "That is not my intention. Though I do not think you would follow my intention, whatever it is."

"As indebted as I am to you, the only person's intentions I plan to follow are my own. But I do value your counsel."

"Perhaps not as you should."

Jon laughed. "That can be said of most men, I think."

"True," she replied, warmth creeping into her eyes. "You want to go to her."

Jon swallowed, nodded.

"I cannot sway you against it?"

"I can't stay here forever," he sighed.

"That I know, nor do I wish you to stay. But there is talk enough already of you and her."

"Let them talk," Jon said, tossing aside the furs and slipping out the bed.

He strode past Melisandre to a chair where a pair of trousers and shirt had been laid for him two days ago. He began dressing and she watched him.

"You seem unconcerned now with how your relationships with her will be perceived."

"I think getting stabbed in the back and killed negates not only my leadership, but my loyalty to the Watch."

"'It shall not end until my death,'" she recited. "That's part of the vow is it not?"

"Yes," Jon clipped, pulling on a heavier leather shirt over the canvas on and fastening the laces. "I'd say I fulfilled that part. Along with others."

"'I pledge my life and honour to the Night's Watch,'" she continued.

"I know the words."

"And yet you would interpret them to suit your desires."

"I interpret them to mean I dedicate my life to the Watch and its mission until I die. I died. At the hand of the Watch. They don't want me, I won't overstay my welcome." He fastened his sword belt around his waist. "I wouldn't overstay yours either, my lady," he clipped. "Ghost, to me."

The direwolf stretched itself on the bed, then leapt off, following Jon into the outer chamber where he retrieved his heavy fur cloak and greeted the world for the first time as a man reborn.

He ignored the stares and whispers from the assortment of Watch men and Selyse's guards dotting the yard as he made his way to the lift at the base of the Wall. He glanced to the young man operating the winch as he opened the gate and stepped in, Ghost at his heels. He nodded to the boy, who scrambled to his feet and pushed the lever to raise the basket.

Once again, Jon found Aurelia atop the Wall. She seemed as at home there as any of the men, perhaps more than most. Gazing out across the landscape, now dusted white as far as anyone could see, Jon came up to her side. He slid an arm around her waist and her head tilted to lean against his shoulder.

"The world often seemed clearer to me up here, when you could tell the difference between one side and the other," she said as her hand clasped his.

The feeling of her fingers laced with his, even through their thick, lined gloves brought Jon a calm he only knew through her touch. "It won't be winter there forever."

"So long as there's not a frozen army of the undead massing to take the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms."

"They'll have to get through the Wall and Stannis first."

"If they make it down to King's Landing, it will likely mean they destroyed everything leading down to it. And we'll be dead before being able to see the shock on the faces of the Lannisters and all their lacqueys before they get slaughtered."

Jon chuckled. "So you're having pleasant thoughts this morning, I see."

Aurelia looked up at him, her chin resting on his shoulder, the wind whipping strands of her hair across the scruff on his face. "Cheery as an ice cell."

He kissed the tip of her nose, reddened and cold. "That's my girl. Now," he continued, shifting around to face her and wrapping both his arms around her waist. "It isn't like you to mope. You've been teasing me with talk of plans and schemes. I doubt any of them involve us being hunted to death by walkers or anyone else."

Aurelia sighed. "We're being hunted as we speak. Not much we can do about it, really."

"But you have thoughts on us. When we were up here before - you spoke of possibilities for us to be together. I assume you meant for more than a few nights of blissful passion."

"I did."

"So tell me."

Aurelia studied him, then looked past him to Ghost, snuffling his way along the path with measured steps. "How are you feeling?"

"Stronger, better. Almost bored to death again being stuck in that room. Lia, please tell me what you're thinking."

She kept her gaze on the direwolf. "The letter Ramsay sent, you know it was full of lies."

"I know now he didn't marry my sister. Melisandre told me of Stannis' raven. That he used Theon to perpetuate a ruse, or Roose did."

Aurelia nodded. "So the Boltons have Winterfell by right of declaration, but they have no claim to it as any Northerner would see it. Ramsay will loathe that, as will his father. Whatever remains of the lords and laymen who came to Winterfell to see a wedding of their people before the Old Gods, they'll trust the Boltons even less now. That will make them even angrier, and more ripe for drafting new plans."

He raised a hand to her chin, nudging it so she would look at him again. "And what plans would those be?"

"The Boltons don't care about honor, but they do care about prestige, pedigree, even prizes, if you will. Ramsay in particular. And they just had a grand one slip from their grasp."

Jon swallowed hard. "What are you suggesting?"

"What if they had a different prize? A better prize?"

"Aurelia, no," Jon cautioned. "You cannot."

"I can, and I mean to."

"If you got there, if you marry Ramsay, you'll be-"

"The lady of Winterfell. The wife of the heir to the Warden of the North. Roose will push for approval of the marriage, and Ramsay will push him harder. They'll want me."

"He'll kill you."

She shook her head. "Not until Ramsay has an heir, or three. He knows how dangerous having only one son can be."

"You wouldn't."

Aurelia laughed, a harsh almost-cackle. "Never. Give me three weeks. I will win them. I will marry Ramsay. And then end this."

Jon studied her. "Three weeks?"

She nodded.

"And what do I do during this time?"

"Hide, and watch."

"How do I-"

"Jon, you know the grounds better than anyone there. Particularly the crypts."

"We don't know that they haven't explored them."

"Don't we?" She leaned closer to him, the wind again whipping strands of her hair against his face. "You know how complex those tunnels are, and how dangerous in the dark. And do you really think after everything that's happened Bolton and Frey men will want to venture to exploring Stark crypts? And if they do," she brushed her lips across his cheek. "There may be another ghost in Winterfell."

She pulled back and Jon fought a smile. "Why would you put yourself in that position? What do we gain besides revenge?"

"Everything," she replied.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't tell you here. We need somewhere quiet, and secure."

"We can go down in the cellars, in the larder. I still have a key." He took her hand and Aurelia hesitated. "What is it?"

"You promise not to lock me down there?"

Jon smiled. "Why would I do that?"

Aurelia blinked away tears.

"What is it?"

She huffed. "Let's do this before I have tears freeze on my face."

Jon stared at her briefly, but then tugged for her to follow him, and she did. Ghost followed them into the basket, sitting at Aurelia's side, sniffing her hand. They remained silent on the ride down from the Wall, and all the way into the cellars. Jon unlocked the larder and ushered her inside. He stopped Ghost before the wolf entered.

"Ghost, stay."

The direwolf huffed, but sat down. Jon looked back to Aurelia, already pacing the floor.

"I've wanted to tell you for so long, and yet I couldn't for so many reasons. I hope you understand that."

Jon had barely closed the door as she began speaking. He turned to lean against it, watching her. "What is it?"

Aurelia paced back and forth a few more times, then stopped in front of him. She took a step to him, looking into his eyes, almost pleading. "The offer Stannis made you, for Winterfell, legitimacy, and a wife."

"What of it?"

"Robb offered the same."

Jon shifted forward. "What?"

"Before he left for the Twins, he called me to his tent one night and showed me a letter. It named you his heir unless a child of his was born, and then you would be castellan, or regent, until the child came of age. He legitimized you, and promised a thousand men to the Watch in your place. And he - he betrothed us." She choked out her final words, tears forming again in her eyes.

Jon blinked several times. "He did what?"

"All of it," Aurelia whispered. "He gave you all of it."

"Where is the letter?"

"With Maege Mormont."

Jon's eyes widened. "That's why you wanted to find her."

"Yes," Aurelia nodded. "To know if she still had it. If she even - without that letter telling you wouldn't matter. We'd be in the same position as your offer with Stannis, but with it-"

"Are you saying she does have it?"

"Yes," she managed before a sob came out.

Jon stepped forward and folded her into his arms. "Aurelia," he soothed. "Calm down, love. I'm not angry with you. Gods forbid I be angry with you for wanting this."

Aurelia clung to him, her sobs subsiding but her body trembling. Jon kissed the top of her head, then down to her neck, before whispering in her ear. "Do you remember what I said? If there's a way, we'll find it. We'll fight for it." He pulled back and tilted her head up to look at him. He then kissed her softly before continuing. "But why then do you have to marry Ramsay?"

"Because we don't have the men to give the Watch," she sniffed. "And because it will solidify both Robb's decree and what the Lannisters will have sanctioned through their approval of my marriage to that bastard scum."

"They'll never approve of us."

"Let them come to us," she challenged. "In the winter, in the snow and ice, without allies in the north. All I need is to get to Winterfell, soon, with you in hiding and Maege in place."

"Then you started planning this even before… What were you going to do about the men for the Watch earlier, and my serving as Lord Commander?"

Aurelia sighed. "I hadn't worked that out, honestly. I meant to tell you once I got confirmation of Maege's allegiance to me. It happened soon after you received the letter from Ramsay, and everything happened so quickly, and you were - I - I don't know."

Jon kissed her head again. "Then you mean to end both Ramsay and Roose."

"Yes."

"Good," he snarled. He shifted back to look at her. "By all the gods and every man on this earth, you are not doing that without me."

"Jon-"

"Roose betrayed and killed my brother. He and his bastard son stole our home, and the one true chance we had to be together. Ramsay incited me to leave the Wall under pretense of marrying my sister. It's time they understood how much the north remembers."

Aurelia shifted from his embrace, then ran a hand down his face. "There is small chance of us actually succeeding, you realize."

"What is the alternative? Running?"

She nodded.

A soft smile curved his full lips. "I know you better than that, and you know me."

"But it bears saying."

"You're giving me the opportunity to what? Say no? Tell you this plan is-"

"Madness, I know," Aurelia cut him off, her head bowed.

"I was going to say brilliant," Jon replied, lifting her chin up with his hand. "And a bit mad as well."

She smiled before he kissed her.

"You know the risks we take with this," she murmured as they parted.

Jon clasped her face in his hands. "I would die again a hundred times to return to you."

"I do not think it will work that way."

"I know," he replied, pulling her into his arms. "Whatever the cost now, I am yours, to whatever end. I'd rather die with the world knowing that than live forever hiding as though I was ashamed of us."

"But will you fight to live for us?" She asked, trembling in his embrace.

Jon pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. "With everything I have. I swear."

Finally, the smile returned to Aurelia's eyes. "So will I."

Jon once again pulled Aurelia into his arms and held her firm. She melded into his embrace, feeling his heartbeat steadily, and sighed.

"I know what you would say," Jon said softly. "Please, do not tempt me."

Aurelia looked up at him, running a hand through his unruly locks. "We were meant for more. Still, the idea of running off to a small cottage, just us and Ghost -"

"Don't tempt me," he murmured, looking stern, but his eyes shone.

Aurelia raised herself up on her toes, kissing under his chin, then tilting his head down toward hers. "Well, there's the small matter of leaving this place."

"I think they'll be glad to be rid of me." Jon smiled down at her, then his brow furrowed. "You're worried about her."

"Always. Moreso now that-"

"The owing of my life to her is not literal."

"I'm not certain she views it in that light."

"Lia," Jon sighed. "She cannot keep us here."

"She can, and she will, if our leaving does not serve her in some way."

"I will not be trapped here to do her, or anyone else's bidding. And I will not leave for anyone's desire but yours and my own."

"But if following my plans gets you hurt-"

"Then it will be in service of our future together. Make no mistake, I'm not some mummer you can just direct for action, love, but I know the value you place on us, together. I trust your judgment."

"And I yours," she countered.

"If you were hoping I would try and talk you out of this, you came to the wrong man. Despite the dangers, what you're suggesting rights all manner of wrongs. And," he continued after bringing her hand to his lips, "it is what Robb wanted for us, what he believed was right. And..."

"And?"

"It is what I believe is right. Us, together, I mean. And with no other to claim Winterfell - we can't leave it with the Boltons." He sighed again. "Do you really have to marry him?"

"To save Winterfell, yes. To unite us as Robb wished before gods and men, yes. Without this alliance, we have no hope of-"

"What about Stannis?"

Aurelia bit her lip.

"You believe he'll let a slight such as this slide? Asking permission from the Lannisters and not him? When he's already offered me-"
"You were bound to the Watch then, and now you're not. He promised you Val, not me. And I will not be the one petitioning the Lannisters."

"You think he will not see your marrying of Ramsay as a betrayal?"

"He might, if he does not have the true reasoning explained to him. Which is why we'll have to act fast on many fronts once the Boltons are displaced. And we'll need the support of the other northern lords."

Jon looked down at her. "Something I suppose you were working on when you went to Last Hearth, and elsewhere."

"A bit. And there is more work to be done from within Winterfell. Lord Manderly is there, and other minor lords."

"And Freys. Will you befriend them as well?"

Aurelia glared at him. Jon watched her for a moment, studying her face.

"Sometimes I don't realize how you've changed," he murmured.

"I stopped letting duty and propriety guide my decisions," she said simply. "And I may have lost some of my belief that within most people are honourable. I suppose that leads to rather obvious changes, but do not think all of me so changed."

"I don't. I know you love me, and I know you cherish Winterfell and its legacy. Both you have held close to you as long as I've known you. Seeing what you will do now to fight for them I - I almost feel unworthy."

She shook her head. "Don't. Since Robb - and everything with the war, at the Twins, all of that mess, I understand more clearly now the need of fighting for what you value most. Sometimes that leads to unpleasant compromises and paths, but when it's in the service of what you know to be right, to be your purpose in life… selfish though it may be, my life is yours, Jon. It is now as it always should have been."

Jon pulled her into his arms and kissed her, fierce and needful. When they broke, he smoothed a hand down her back to rest just above the curve of her bottom. He opened his mouth to speak when his stomach rumbled loud enough for them to break into smiles.

"I suppose I should eat something," he said with a sheepish grin.

"I haven't eaten since yesterday morning. I probably should as well."

"Come on," he said with a gentle pat on her butt. "Let's see what happens when we go to the dining hall together. The winter maid and the risen ghost."

Aurelia lifted herself on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Don't get yourself stabbed again."

"I wouldn't dream of it."