Jon

Jon Stark was not meant to use his old sleeping place and thus he was settled in one of the old guest rooms meant for visitors. It was only fitting he supposed as he was no longer a brother of the Night's Watch, but Lord Stark.

It was everything he ever wanted, but he felt no happiness. There was only anger and shame.

This time I truly broke my vow, he thought. But I didn't break them for Ygritte, but for Arya…for a nebulous vision given to me by Lady Melisandre.

If I look back I am lost, Jon told himself and turned to the other side, trying to find a semblance of sleep. He has yet to speak to Val, but that was something that could wait until tomorrow.

Yet it was impossible for him to escape his guilt

You are a liar, the merciless voice in his mind whispered. Arya is not the only reason you accepted. You were always jealous of Robb. You wanted to be Lord of Winterfell. Do not deny it.

It is true, Jon whispered to himself, a sharp pain twisting his heart. Maybe Lady Stark was right all along. Maybe all bastards harbor such dark ambitions in their hearts.

Yes, he thought, feeling a strange sense of relief washing over him in that moment of truth. I have always wanted it.

It was in the middle of the night when he was woken by a sudden noise. He instinctively grabbed for his blade, but then he felt something sharp at his neck.

A dagger, he thought and found the shape of a person leaning above him in the half-lit darkness of his chambers.

"Who?" he asked into the darkness, grabbed the person's arm and pulled hard. With a quick motion their positions were reversed.

The light falling from the windows above him revealed the person's face to him.

It was Val, smiling at him in amusement.

"It seems you got me, Lord Crow," she replied and Jon let go off her hand, moving away from her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, still a little stunned by her sudden presence.

She gave him a brilliant smile and sat up, her dagger still in hand.

"Are you going to fight me, Lord Crow?" she asked and jerked her head at his sheathed blade.

Jon frowned."Of course not."

"Of course not," she repeated."It was your King who told me that we are supposed to get wed and thus I am here to fulfill his request. You know the custom of my people."

He swallowed hard, feeling a rush of warmth washing over him.

"I wanted to speak with you…," he stuttered, but she put her finger to her lips and moved closer.

"I surprised you and you unarmed me," she chided and moved into his lap. It was only for a brief moment, but he wondered what she would do if he threw her from his lap, but that was soon forgotten when her nimble fingers started to work the bindings of his breeches.

"What are you doing?" he repeated his earlier question, his breath growing labored.

"Giving you what I want," she told him and let go of him to lift her dress over her shoulders.

She wore no further clothes underneath and her full breast hung freely from her chest.

Then she leaned forward and touched her lips to his. They were soft, sweet and warm. Her hands were gentle as they pulled his breeches down.

"Why did you forsake your vows?" she asked in a breathless voice as she lifted herself down on him.

It was wrong or that is what his father would have told him. He saw his blurred face dance before him, followed by Arya's and all the other people he once loved.

Yet it was Arya's dimpled smile that lingered the longest, even as he felt the pleasure stirring inside him.

"I did it for my sister Arya," he told her and kissed her for a long time, until he felt the need to breathe."The Red Woman says she saw her in the fires…wedding the Bastard of Bolton…the son of the man who deposed my family from power. She was only a little girl when I left and I heard terrible things about this Bastard of Bolton."

She didn't comment on that and simply brushed her hands through his dark locks. He closed his eyes and pulled her back into his embrace.

She was riding him heart and fast, burying his fingers into his skin. It has been too long and he couldn't hold back a gasp.

"We will kill this bastard then," she told him firmly, another roll of her hips stifling his answer.

"And then we will safe your sister," she added in a gasp, nibbling on his neck, before bringing her soft lips back to his.

"We will," he answered through gritted teeth and emptied himself inside her.

She crawled off him and rested her head on his chest, her breathing still labored.

"Do you think that King of yours will be satisfied?" she asked after a while, but Jon could only frown. Stannis Baratheon was not the kind of person he wanted to think about right now.

"I suppose the your King will expect me to swear our vows in front of a heart tree or in some other manner…How do people do it in the South?"

I have no right to swear a vow before such a holy tree, Jon knew but the King will insist on a proper ceremony.

He touched her soft hair.

"They go to a Sept meant to worship the Seven, but that was never my family's way. We are believers of the Old Faith," he explained softly.

She lifted herself and looked at him with her pale-grey eyes.

"Don't you want to?" she asked.

"I want," he told her, „but it feels so strange. Once I swore my vow to become a brother of the Night's Watch and now I am going to swear another vow."

His words made her chuckle.

"Vows are only words and words are wind, Jon Snow," she whispered to him, but they were not able remove his feeling of shame.

"We will do it tomorrow," he told her and lay back down, „and then we will find your people. Do you think they will come to accept the King's demands?"

Val nodded her head."The desperate ones will. Tormund might as well, but I am not sure about the others. My people are a stubborn lot."

Jon couldn't help but to smile."You will come to see that the Northern lords are just as stubborn. My father always said that dealing with them is like running up against a stone wall over and over again in hopes of making a crack."

"We of the Free Folk never held much love for the Starks, but hearing you speak about him makes me think that he was a fine man."

"Aye, he was," he replied warmly."The finest man I ever knew."

"Do you think he would have agreed with your actions?" she prodded gently, but Jon couldn't help but to give her the truth.

"My father was a man of duty. He would be ashamed of me for forsaking a vow, but I firmly believe that he would have tried to help the Free Folk. He was no cruel man. All would be better if he as alive…," he replied, his voice ringing with emotions.

She lifted herself up and touched his cheek."All men must die."

"Aye, all men must die," he confirmed and pulled her into another embrace.

…