Emmelyne wasn't sure if she was in love.
Yes, she lie in her bed, her head rested on Markus Waynwood's chest, her breathing fast but steady and her heart racing with prior exhilaration.
But she did not know if it was love.
Markus was quiet as they lay there. He ran his fingers through Emmelyne's hair occasionally, or sometimes uttered sweet words to her quietly.
She knew that Markus was in love.
He'd told her that he was in love.
But Emmelyne did not know what her feelings were.
R'hllor lie at the foot of the bed. He whined quietly whenever one of them moved. The direwolf at least liked Markus, and that was a good thing, as he frequently made visits to Emmelyne's chambers.
Emmelyne and Jon... whatever they had had, that had stopped. Perhaps Markus was a replacement in the girl's mind. She did not know. The only thing she knew, was that he way a replacement, then he was an excellent one.
Winterfell had changed from when Emmelyne was sixteen. No longer was she referred to as a whore and a witch by servants. Instead they gave her a title. 'The Queen of Flames.' She accepted it willingly, though she knew that Demon would never truly disappear. Lots of things had been replaced in the time after the Battle of the Bastards.
She was quite sure she was pregnant, something that both frightened and delighted her beyond belief. She couldn't bring herself to find a maester. Didn't want it to be real. At least she knew that if her suspicions were true, the child was certainly Markus's. But if she did not love the father...
Jon held meetings often. He spoke of the White Walkers. Of the Night King. Emmelyne didn't understand any of what he meant, and try as she might to see, to have a vision, it was like she'd lost her power.
Today, there was going to be another meeting. Emmelyne chose one of her favorite dresses for the day. It was long and thick, dark crimson in color. It was a velvet material that made sure she was warm throughout the day. She finished her outfit off with the cloak Sansa had made. Emmelyne had never been good at needlework, but she'd adorned the broken wheel of House Waynwood onto the cloak.
The topic of this meeting was dragonglass, which could be used to kill white walkers. "I want every Northern maester to scour their records for any mention of dragonglass," Jon stated. "Dragonglass kills white walkers. It's more valuable to us now than gold. We need to find it, we need to mine it, we need to make weapons from it. Everyone aged ten to sixty will drill daily with spikes, pikes, bow and arrow."
"It's about time we taught these boys of summer how to fight," Lord Glover commented with a chuckle.
"Not just the boys," Jon replied. "We can't defend the North if only half the population is fighting."
Glover stood, staring Jon down. "You expect me to put a spear in my granddaughter's hand?" he demanded.
Lyanna Mormont stood suddenly, locking eyes with Lord Glover despite their height difference. "I don't plan on knitting by the fire while men fight for me," she snapped. "I might be small, Lord Glover, and I might be a girl, but I am every bit as much a Northerner as you."
"Indeed you are, my lady. No one has questioned- -" Glover began.
"And I don't need your permission to defend the North."
Davos and Emmelyne both smiled from Jon's side, and Brienne, from her seat in the crowd, did the same. Sansa held back her own smile. Lyanna looked to Jon. "We'll begin training every man, woman, boy, and girl on Bear Island," she said.
"Aye!" the men called, pounding the tables in agreement.
"While we're preparing for attack, we need to shore up our defenses," Jon said. "The only thing standing between us and the Army of the Dead is the Wall, and the Wall hasn't been properly manned in centuries. I'm not the king of the Free Folk. But if we're going to survive this winter together..." he trailed off, allowing Tormund to rise.
The wildling chuckled. "You want us to man the castles for you?" he asked.
"Aye," Jon agreed. "Last time we saw the Night King was at Hardhome. The closest castle to Hardhome is Eastwatch-by-the-sea."
"Then that's where I'll go."
Tormund looked at the other wildlings. "Looks like we're the Nights Watch now," he chuckled.
Chatter broke out among the men in the hall. "If they breach the Wall," Jon continued, "the first two castles in their path are Last Hearth and Karhold."
A lord rose. "The Umbers and the Karstarks betrayed the North," he said. "Their castles should be torn down without a stone left standing."
Sansa spoke up suddenly. "The castles committed no crimes. And we need every fortress we have for the war to come. We should give the Last Hearth and Karhold to new families, loyal families who supported us against Ramsay."
"Aye!" some of the men agreed, but Jon clearly was not pleased.
He didn't look at Sansa when he answered. "The Umbers and the Karstarks have fought beside the Starks for centuries. They've kept theft for generation after generation."
"And then they broke faith," Sansa stated.
"I'm not going to strip these families of their ancestral homes because of the crimes of a few reckless sons."
"So there's no punishment for treason and no punishment for loyalty?"
Silence.
Jon looked at Sansa now. "The punishment for treason is death. Smalljon Umber died on the field of battle. Harald Karstark died on the field of battle," he said.
"They died fighting for Ramsay," Sansa argued. "Give the castles to the families of the men who died fighting for you."
Littlefinger was smiling from his place against the wall. He was clearly pleased by Sansa's arguing. Emmelyne looked at Sansa, offering her a sympathetic smile. But the younger girl just rolled her eyes in response. Chatter overwhelmed the hall.
Jon sighed. "When I was Lord Commander of Night's Watch... I executed men who betrayed me. I executed men who refused to follow orders. My father always said, 'The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword,' and I have tried to live by those words. But I will not punish a son for his father's sins, and I will not take a family home away from a family it has belonged to for centuries. That is my decision, and my decision is final."
Sansa let out a huff, looking at the ground. She was done.
Jon looked out at the crowd once more. "Ned Umber," he said.
A young boy with brown hair and dark eyes stepped forward.
"Alys Karstark."
A girl with a rather square face and red hair rose as well.
Jon ushered them both forward, and they did as told. "For centuries, our families fought side by side on the battlefield," Jon said. "I ask you to pledge your loyalty once again to House Stark, to serve as our bannermen and come to our aid whenever called upon."
Alys was first to draw her sword, and Ned followed closely. They each lowered to one knee. "Stand," Jon said, and they did as he said.
"Yesterday's wars don't matter anymore," Jon stated. "The North needs to band together, all the living north. Will you stand beside me, Ned and Alys, now and always?"
"Now and always!" the pair repeated in unison.
There were cheers and applause. Emmelyne joined in, clapping politely. Alys smiled, and Ned looked around, smiling hesitantly as well. Jon was pleased. Sansa continued to stare at the floor, Littlefinger watching her.
After the meeting was finished, Emmelyne stepped out of the hall. Markus joined her, twisting a lock of her hair around his finger. "You're beautiful," he murmured, and Emmelyne just nodded.
"Something on your mind?" he asked.
"Nothing, no. I'm just worried about Jon and Sansa," she replied.
It wasn't a whole lie. She was worried about them. But it wasn't all she was worried about. Her hand moved to her stomach, feeling it beneath her dress. It hadn't begun to grow, but she knew, deep down, that she was with child.
Markus smiled, kissing her on the cheek before leaving for his chambers.