Flashback

"Are you really going north, slayer?" Dolorous Edd Tollet was gloomier than Sam remembered. He no longer flinched at the nickname slayer; he had long since learned to accept the name.

"Yes Edd, I am, and you will command the survivors." Sam still felt slightly nervous at the prospect of going into the frigid North, with Others, looking for every man, woman, and child left behind. It least Gilly and her babe would be safe for a while.

"Do you think you'll come back?" Edd was skeptical and rightly so.

"If we are successful we won't have to, and if we are not, I suppose we will meet again."

Dolorous Edd gave what appeared to be the begginings a sarcastic grin, "if you end up as a wight, say hello to Craster's boys for me, I hear they get to be on the winning side."

Jon

They went north, just a party of two people and a direwolf during what might have daybreak in better days. The skies had cleared up only recently, and the snow was only ankle deep on the Kingsroad, and knee deep aside the road. The tracks of the retreating survivors had long since vanished save for a few lucky stragglers who had survived this far alone from the battle.

He had left Lord Davos in command of the survivors, and Dolorous Edd with the command of the Night's Watchmen and the free-folk who had come south.

Lawfully, Jon was no longer a man of the Night's Watch. He had died when his brothers murdered him for the watch. The Red Woman had kissed him as was custom in many parts of Essos for paying respects to the newly departed. To both of their surprises, Jon had returned from the dead.

Jon could have renewed his vows to the Night's Watch, but he had things to do that would have required him to break his vows. The new Night's Watch would not have him anyway without much bloodshed. Supporters of Bowen Marsh had staged a coup and many of his loyal brothers simply fled with him for fear of their lives, so tenuous had matters been between Marsh's supporters and his own.

It mattered not, when Jon went south with the free-folk, many men of the Watch left the wall and joined him to free his little sister from Ramsay Snow.

The cause was for naught; when he reached Last Hearth, he met Ser Justin Massey who claimed to have her. Theon Greyjoy or rather what was left of him had helped the girl escape, and the signs of abuse were real enough, but it was not Arya. Instead, it had been Jeyne Poole, Sansa's childhood friend.

Jon was not going to turn back, even the Kingroad was difficult to travel, and the free-folk would sooner die than to march back might as well have continued south to rally support for the Watch. There was also the subject of Mance Rayder of course. The King beyond the wall, Jon had later learned, had escaped his cage when Stannis entered Winterfell, and that true to Bastard of Bolton's word was shrouded by sewn together flayed skin. Jon did not actually see the cage, but it was a tale Northmen would remember and talk about.

A turn of the moon later, Jon entered a ruined Winterfell with seven thousand at his back rather than the over ten thousand that he had left Castle Black with. In most cases nobody took the time to burn the corpses south of the wall. We're paying for that now, thought Jon.

The day, the night, or whatever it was now, passed without incident and when night fell, they made camp, and agreed to sleep in shifts. A fire was made for their warmth as well as that of the horses, which were hard to come by these days, not to mention for any wights that came near. At the rate they were going, it would be one or two more days before they passed the Queen's Stop hill where the Ice Dragons were seen for the first time.

Jon had no idea where they came from, and Sam insisted that it the Others never had dragons before. Of course there were no dragons in Westeros before Aegon's conquest. For that matter, for all the dragons that were once in the world, none had had ventured into the North, for someone would have seen such a sight.

"Is it true, about the Night's King?" Sam asked Jon that night over the fire when they made camp.

Jon did not want to think of those who chose to stay behind at the wall out of duty. "I think so Sam, the 999th commander of the Night's Watch didn't listen to Lady Melisandre, any more than the last one did." Jon was not entirely sure what had happened, it had been said that Bowen Marsh had taken ice for his mistress, just as Stannis had taken fire for his. The determined but low burning flame that had been Stannis Baratheon had been snuffed out at Winterfell, of how Jon did not know. He had been in south of the Neck at the time, to plea for support from the South. Only a motley selection of riverlords whose allegiance for Stannis he had earned answered his call.

None of the Targaryens or anyone else who called themselves king cared about what happened north of the Crossing, and Queen Daenerys Targaryen even sent him a note saying that she would not bring her army to aid the bastard spawn of a usurper's dog and servant of the usurper's brother. He still had a hard time understanding why Samwell spoke so highly of her. He gave a plea of his own to save the Watch, but only got prisoners of war and scant supplies.

The night was thankfully uneventfull as the day. The lines between night and day were greatly blurred, but the moon was still visble when it was night, and sometimes, just sometimes during the day they felt what might have been flickers of sunshine that faded just as soon as they appeared.

After two days in the vast snowy moorlands travelling north, they passed the Queen's Stop Hill by the sight of the battle, and cooked a meal within the long deserted roadside inn for which the hill was named. Modest supplies were salvaged from the inn which had been hastily deserted, not a fortnight ago.

They left the place, and made sure that camp would be at least several miles away. As much as they wanted the warmth, it would not do to be trapped in a place where so many had died without being burned.

It mattered not, halfway into Jon's shift, He could feel the unease that Ghost felt. Since Jon had been killed, he paid more attention to his direwolf and its senses. he could see the silhouettes of the enemy outlined against the light of the moon.

Jon nudged his friend and companion awake, "Sam, they're coming."

Tarly wasted no time in getting up, and instinctively produced a torch which he lit by the light of the campfire. They woke and saddled their horses with careful movements. They could not be too quick for if they worked up a sweat, it would only be a matter of time before it turned into a sheet of ice.

They would not waste energy fighting off the others, when the option of flight remained, so they took it.

Their flight took them to a cave, one of many in that could be found in the barrows of the First Men that dotted the moorlands from Barrowton to the White knife. Here, they rested for the remainder of the Night. The barrows were regarded by many in the North as haunted, but neither Jon nor Sam, cared anymore. Worse things than ghosts ruled the North now.

When morning came, which was dark, but somehow lighter than the night, they prepared to press on.

"Jon, how far does this cave go?" Sam asked of the cave that though narrow seemed to go on.

"It won't take us to Winterfell, will it?" Sam had another desperate idea, but this one he was not so sure of.

In the end he decided to look, the cave was big enough for the horses to come in if led on foot, and after a few turns, they found a great cavern that traversed in two great directions. Sam waved the light of their torch, and Jon could pick out another opening in across the cave.

In some ways, it reminded Jon of the vast cave networks beyond the wall. They were the ones that Gendel and Gorne had once used to sneak past the wall.

On and on the cavern that linked the entrances to the barrows went. Jon knelt down to pet Ghost, "Lead us home boy," he whispered into the ear of his faithful companion. They followed Ghost's instincts which Jon had long since learned to trust.

They had no idea how long the cave stretched on, or even if it stretched as far as Winterfell. They didn't even know if it was safe from the Others, but it was much warmer down here.

Though it was daytime up above them, the sky was still dark and the clouds barred the light of the moon the last time he saw the surface. The steady drip drip of melted snow steadily making its way along the sinous ruts flowing in their direction and ending who knew where, as they continued the path of the cave that seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness.