The Wall

Jon Snow

Jon was restless. The dream he had last night was an odd dream, to say the least, it was more of a night terror. After the dream, he felt different. Jon could still feel the fiery sword that he had grasped in his hand, the morning felt different as well. Jon had woke to the smell of fire and the calling of his name only to wake and find Samwell Tarly, looming over his bedside with a plate of blackened sausages, a bread roll and wine. Jon ran his fingers through his curly locks and swung his legs over the side of the bed before he slowly stood up.

Sam held a solemn expression on his face, his hands trembling like his fat bottom lip as he looked at him with confliction. Jon furrowed his brows, eyeing him and then let his eyes trail down to the tray in Sam's hands and saw a letter perched against the goblet of wine. He eyed it with hesitation before letting his eyes trail back up to Sam's face. He watched as Sam stumbled forward and placed the metal tray on the table and Jon winced at the clattering sound that it made.

"A letter," Sam said softly. "I'm so sorry, Jon."

Jon frowned at the sad tone of his friend's voice as he thrust on his boots with haste and loosely tied together the ties before dressing himself. After he had laced up the thin dark brown tunic, he picked up his black fur cloak and threw it around his shoulders, letting the furs that have been warmed by the fire that was lit in his chambers warm his neck. He stretched, letting out a low yawn and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hands.

"Who from?" Jon asked tiredly.

"Robb Stark," Sam informed him which caused him to still from picking up his bread roll.

"What of Robb?" Jon questioned hesitantly.

He tried to keep his features calm and his voice cool though he knew that Sam saw through it and saw the fear and worry he held for his brother. His mind wandered, spitting malicious thoughts of what the letter might contain. It could contain anything as of late and he will never be prepared for it. The last letter he received was from Lysara telling him of their father's death but that was moon cycle's ago and he had not heard from her since. Jon eyed the crumpled letter with an intensity, not wanting to read it.

"What was it about?" Jon asked once more.

"He writes of your brothers and sister at Winterfell," Sam stated.

Sam opened his mouth to speak, his lip still trembling as he made an attempt to speak. Jon slowly picked up the letter from the tray but Sam quickly snatched it out of his hold. He eyed him with wide eyes and watched Sam's lips part many a time, his friend looked like a fish at that moment in time rather than a crow. The sad look never left Sam's face causing Jon to still, dread filling as he shook his head softly, trying to shrug off the thoughts that filled his head. What if the Lannister's attacked Winterfell? My little sister and brothers cannot defend themselves against the lions. What if they are dead?

"Sam-" Jon sighs as he approaches him. "Give me the letter."

"N-No," He stammers with a shake of his head and takes a huge step back. "You wouldn't like it. It isn't good news."

"Sam," Jon begins slowly. "Tell me...what happened to my siblings?"

"T-Theon Greyjoy...he lay siege to Winterfell, Jon. He hailed himself the L-Lord of Winterfell. He took Winterfell with an army of twenty men. The letter states that your sister and brothers were outnumbered and forced to hand Winterfell over to Theon. Y-Your sister bent the knee," Sam tells him. Jon furrows his brows and shakes his head in denial. That does not sound like my sister. She would never bend the knee even if they had a knife at her throat. "Rodrik Cassel was beheaded by Theon...your Maester is dead. Your brothers...I am sorry, Jon...they were killed...it is said that their bodies hang above the castle-"

"My sister," Jon interrupts fiercely. "What about Lysara?"

"I-I don't k-know," Sam stutters and eyes him warily. "The letter says that Lysara is gone. That she is nowhere to be found."

Jon felt his breath leave him and his heart momentarily stops before he shakily sat down on the bed, staring at the stone wall of his chambers in silence. All his time spent at the Wall and he never felt so cold as he did at that very moment. Jon could feel tears rise and gather in his eyes but he blinked them away. He tried to comprehend what Sam had told him. He couldn't believe it. He and Jon were the oldest, yet their brothers were dead before them.

"W-What?" Jon asks quietly.

"Your brothers are dead, Jon," Sam said and stumbles closer to him. "Your sister is missing."

"Theon," Jon speaks up after a moment of tense silence before he looks up at Samwell. A hot fury consumed him which left his entire body shaking, he kept his eyes level with Sam as he stands once more. He could only say Theon's name. Jon never liked Theon, not as much as Robb liked him. It was fact, though he never thought...he never thought that Theon would kill Bran and Rickon. They were like brothers to him. "Theon...he did that...I'll kill him..."

"Yes, I-I'm sorry Jon," His friend utters out softly as he grimaces. "I'm sorry."

"And my sister is missing..." Jon trails off.

He thought on Lysara. His sister. Gone. Missing. His brow furrowed as he thought of her. The pain she may be in as of this moment if she was still alive...he could not bare to think of her. Jon could not imagine what may or may not have happened to her, all those horrible things that Theon or his Ironborn could have done to her or made her witness. And the killing of their brothers...he knew it must have destroyed her. His lips pressed together then and his nails dug into his palms, so harshly that he drew blood from both his bottom lip and his hands.

"Where is she?" Jon questioned. "She's missing...but where? Where would she flee to?"

The thought of his heartbroken, little sister wandering through the dark and freezing woods brought a chill down his spine. He was reminded of the last time she went missing in the woods when he was nine. Jon had searched the woods for her along with their father. It was a cold night, a harsh night yet all he could do was focus on his sister. His sister who was no doubt dying. He could see the fear in his father's eyes as they rode through the woods, shouting for her. Jon did not care for the cold that pierced his flesh that night...all he cared for was having her in his arms and in the warmth of his cloak.

His jaw clenched as he tried to calm the thundering of his heart and with a final thought, he rose to his feet abruptly. Jon marched towards the table, ignoring the food and downed his wine before he went to the other end of his chambers and grasped his long sword and belt, quickly adjusting them to his waist and his head snapped to the end of the bed, where Ghost slept soundly and called for him. Ghost's red eyes snapped open and the direwolf's ears rose. Jon made a gesture with his head causing the direwolf to trot towards him as he made his way to the heavy wooden door.

"Jon," Sam began frantically and shuffled after him. "Jon...Jon, what are you doing?"

"Leaving," Jon answered stiffly as he adjusted the small clasps of his black cloak.

"Where?" The large man demanded with wide eyes. "You can't just leave. You will die and I-"

"And if I do not leave, my sister will die!" Jon interrupts, raising his voice as he swiftly turns to face Sam. "I...I can't just let her die. I can't just leave her to the woods. Anything could happen to her! Anyone could harm her! And after I find her, we will go back to Winterfell and I'll kill Theon myself!" His voice grows weaker then as his eyes look to the floor. "What sort of brother would I be if I let something happen to her, Sam?"

"Night gathers and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death," Sam starts quietly causing Jon to shake his head. "I shall take no wife, hold no lands and father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory, I shall live and die at my post."

"Sam-" Jon speaks up but Sam continues.

"I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the Wall," Sam recites the oath they made. "I am the shield that guards the realms of men. You pledged that Jon. You swore an oath. You pledged your life and honour to the Night's Watch from that night we swore the oath underneath the Heart Tree and for all the nights ahead of us. You can't leave, Jon. You won't do your sister or brother any favours if you are executed."

"What of Lysara? I-"

"You have told me a lot about Lysara, I think..." Sam admits. "I think that she will come to you. Let her come to you."

"Why would she come to me?" Jon scoffs with a heavy frown on his face. "I'm just her bastard brother."

"I don't think she cares that you're a bastard," Samwell informs him with a small smile. "I don't. She will come...I'm sure of it, give it some time and you will be together again soon. Besides, I think it is a good thing that your sister is missing."

"Why?" Jon asked confused, his brows furrowing further than they already were.

"It means no one can find her."

Riverrun

Catelyn Stark

Catelyn could still feel the emptiness in her darkening heart from where Ned had been. After hearing the news of her husband's death, she recalled collapsing against the trees, falling against them and hurting her entire body. Her throat was still raw and painful from screaming until she no longer could feel anything. Catelyn could still hear the solemn silence that followed after the river of tears that had slid down her pale and worn face. She still had the cuts from hitting the bark of the tree roughly with her hands until blood ran down them and her shaking arms. Catelyn remembered clawing at her chest where her heart lay from the pain she felt...but then she heard her son, Robb.

Catelyn remembered Robb most of all, ruining his sword as he unleashed his fury on a tree at the top of the woods. He had roared that it left her shocked and her ears reeling from the noise. The boy turned man turned soldier collapsed into her arms. His body shaking from furious and agonising sobs. Lady Catelyn felt as if she was carrying the weight of the world by holding him but she did not care as her children were her world. She would never love anything as fiercely as did her children. Catelyn thought on all of her living children then as tears fell from her blank eyes.

Robb. Her eldest child of auburn hair and blue eyes. He was honourable and loyal and kind, just like Ned was. Yet, at the age of ten and eight he was thrust into a war, a war he did not deserve and now the Young Wolf that the North had so lovingly named him was fighting against a pride of lions and for the North to be free. The Seven Kingdoms would soon become Six Kingdoms if Robb had his way. The King of the North, she could still remember as they crowned him their King. The utter relief and pride she felt that day. The thrust for vengeance diminishing.

Sansa. Her third child and second daughter, the daughter she was the most of proudest of. Sansa was the epitome of a Lady. The world was sweet and kind back when they were all at Winterfell when they were all safe from harm. Catelyn was certain that the bards would write songs of Sansa's beauty with her lithe, towering frame and her long, auburn hair that fell across her shoulder in waves. Though her eyes were the most beautiful part of her, a beautiful and bright blue. The colour of the rivers at Riverrun. Her daughter was currently held by the lions that Robb was fighting against and she prayed each night for her safety.

And then Arya. Her fourth youngest and third daughter, the wildest of her six children. Arya looked so much like Eddard with her grey eyes, dark unruly hair that always seemed to tangle and then her long but pretty face. Arya had vanished...having fled King's Landing shortly after Ned's death. Catelyn prayed to the Seven for her safety along with Sansa's. She prayed to both the Mother and the Father. To the Crone. To the Maiden. To the Warrior. To the Smith. And she even prayed to the Stranger for Arya. She hoped one of the Seven may listen to her cries.

Lysara. Brandon. Rickon, her mind hissed at her.

A sob escaped her throat when she thought of her three children at Winterfell and the events that unfolded. Her boys...her little boys were gone and she clawed at her bosom once more desperate to rid herself of the pain she felt. Then she thought on Lysara, her eldest daughter and second child. Lysara was missing. Her boys looked so much like but she caught glimpses of her father in Brandon, which always made a smile appear on her lips. As for Lysara, she did not see Lyanna like Ned did. She saw his brother, she saw Brandon. From the piercing grey eyes to her daughter's nose, her face was entirely Brandon's except with softer, more feminine features. Lysara had fled Winterfell and all she could do was pray that she and Arya found them at the Twins. Though she did not pray to the Seven for Lysara's safety.

"Mother-" Robb's voice made her attention draw back to him.

"Yes," Catelyn began hoarsely. "What is it?"

"Bran and Rickon are..." Robb paused, his wavering voice trailing off as their names reduced him to tears. "Gone. Lysara is not. And neither is Arya. We must find them."

"Dead at the hands of a Kraken," She spat. "I told you! I told you never to trust a Greyjoy! Now...now they are gone...my boys..."

"We could never have known, mother," Robb sighed as he sat down beside her.

"Your sisters. Sansa is in King's Landing," Catelyn said. "Lysara and Arya are missing."

"We will find them," Robb swore. "I promise."

"Your Grace!" A voice boomed, causing her eyes to snap towards the entrance to the tent.

Lady Catelyn eyed the messenger that entered the tent briskly, a letter firmly clenched in his hand and a three eyed crow perched loyally on his shoulder. The crow seemed to glare at her causing her to shudder as both she and Robb stood up. The crow's three black eyes never left her own which made her shift uncomfortably. The messenger bowed before approaching Robb quickly and thrust the letter warily into his hand. She looked to the letter in utter loathing, wondering which dreadful news they would receive next. Which child have I lost next? Sansa? Arya? Lysara? Which man is my son to face next? What war will my son partake in next?

She watched Robb's stern expression as he opened and started to read the letter but watched with slowly widening eyes as his face contorted into something unreadable. Lady Catelyn made her way towards him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Her son was no longer a boy, she was certain of this when she felt the hard muscle underneath her fingers. He may be a man grown now, Catelyn thinks to herself fiercely. But he is my son...my boy. My last boy and first born who has outlived his younger brothers.

"Mother..." Robb started, his voice hopeless and dreading causing her to still. His eyes never left the letter.

"Who?" Catelyn inquired. "Who writes to you?"

"Aegon," Her son informed her, his voice wavering as he spoke. The mere first name caused her entire being to stiffen. "Aegon Targaryen."

The North

Lysara Stark

"You are a greenseer, like me," Jojen's voice stirs her awake. "Like your sister."

Lysara's eyes open and her narrowed eyes were immediately met with Osha, sitting next to her, ripping apart the skin of an animal roughly as she eyed Jojen in anger. Lysara sat up slowly, letting the furs that were draped across her body slide down. She felt a weight on her legs and saw that Shaggydog was resting next to her, chewing absentmindedly on a large bone from the animal that Osha was tearing apart and skinning. She let her eyes trail from the direwolf to the other direwolf who was sat next to Bran and then let her eyes rest on Rickon who was with Hodor and Meera next to the small fire. Meera was eyeing Osha with the same hostility and hate as she too was skinning an animal.

"I want you to stop filling his head with such thoughts," Lysara coldly states.

"Lysara," Bran said quickly as they both could feel the tension rise. "It's alright. I wish to hear it."

"It is not alright," Lysara retorts with her eyes narrowed.

"I hear him...I hear him every single bloody day, filling your heads with those thoughts..." Osha sneers, agreeing with her.

It has been this way ever since they joined with the Reeds. Lysara and Osha against Jojen and Meera. They both fought for Brandon with Rickon and Hodor blissfully unaware of the tension between the four of them. The direwolves sensed this tension and were divided. If Summer snarled at Lysara, Shaggydog would retaliate and it would lead to these direwolves fighting. Lysara did not want Bran listening to the worshipper of the false Gods, especially one who worked in the name of the trickster crow. The same crow she had detested since childhood.

"Enough," Bran says firmly but Osha shakes her head.

"No," Osha argues before her eyes leave his own and she turns to her. "You don't think I see the way he looks at her? He is no different than any other. Lysara knows it. I know it. The direwolves know it too."

"Stop it!" Bran yells but Osha nevertheless continues.

"Leave them alone!" Meera yells and stands up, readying herself to attack Osha.

"This does not concern you," Lysara said evenly.

"I do not want to argue with you," Jojen speaks up and their eyes lock. "I do not fill his head with thoughts that he does not want. I simply want to tell him the truth.

"Truth?" Lysara repeats icily, arching an eyebrow as she stares impassively at him. "Which truth do you speak of greenseer?"

"I wish...I wish I could tell you everything, it would be much kinder to do so but I cannot," Jojen tells them.

"I don't care," Osha seethes. "I am taking Lady Lysara and her brothers to Castle Black like she requested. Maester Luwin made me promise to take them to Jon Snow at Castle Black and I intend to. If you try and stop me...I'll kill you."

"We will not be going to Castle Black, I'm afraid," He sighs with a shake of his head.

"We are not going to Castle Black," Lysara responds. "We are going to Jon Snow. By the time we arrive-"

"Jon Snow will not be at Castle Black," Jojen interrupts. "He will be beyond the Wall by the time we arrive at Castle Black."

"N-No," Osha murmurs causing Lysara to look at her. "N-No...I will not be going back beyond the Wall."

"I won't let you go back beyond the Wall," Lysara reassures her. "I promise."

"We have to!" Bran protests, causing her to stand from the furs immediately and she eyes both him and Jojen, though it was mostly towards the greenseer in a seething anger. "I have seen the crow ever since I fell from the tower. I know he wants me to find him. I do not have my legs anymore...I can walk in my dreams and if the crow wants me...I have a purpose in life like you said Lysara."

"You do have a purpose...but if you go down this path Bran," Lysara tells him hollowly, her voice lacking life. "It will not end well for you."

"The crow-"

"Is a trickster!" Lysara hisses, her voice frightening off the birds and the fire roars. She sucks in a sharp breath before continuing more calmly, "He has taunted...mocked me my entire life, ever since I began to dream. He has always been there, taunting and tricking me. In my youth, he raised me high...high in the sky, telling me of peace and the world that was apparently heaven that we lived in...and then he dropped me! He dropped me into this hell! I am so frightened...for you...for our family...do you not think I know of what is to come? You do not know what is beyond that Wall. You are travelling to meet them and it is all their fault! They are the reason we will face the army of the dead. They are the reason that you will-"

"We are going to Castle Black, like I promise," Osha muttered after Lysara stills, terrified that she has given too much away but when she sees that their hardened faces stay the same, she lets out a small sigh from her parted lips. "You have a family, Bran. You belong with your family."

"I fell from the tower for a reason," Bran pressed.

"Aye. It was you," Lysara said cruelly. "You set everything in motion. You are the reason."

"You shouldn't say such things to your brother," Meera hisses as she takes a stand at the same time Osha does. "It was not his fault!"

"Is that what they are telling you?" Osha mused to Bran, cocking her head to the side like a predator would do when inspecting its kill. "I'm deeply sorry little Lord but what is beyond that Wall...they will not spare you. Those things won't spare you. Tell him, Lysara. You need to tell him the truth. Why do you think I have stuck with you as far as I have? She is practically made from fire. Those things...those bastards despise it. They won't go near it. Lysara's my best chance at survival."

"You don't understand," Bran argues.

"I do understand, Bran. Winter is Coming," Osha said coldly bringing a shiver to her. "The dead are coming with it."

Author's Note: Hopefully you like Chapter Seventeen! I would like to thank all of you for reading this story, it means a lot to me that you have. I would also like to thank all of you for making this story one of your favourites, for following it and of course a massive thanks to everyone who has left a review. Let me know what you think and if you have any questions, feel free to ask!

Reviews-

RHatch89: Thank you! As for Young Griff, he may or may not be a fake Aegon. All will be revealed in later chapters as to who he is.

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you! I hope you like Chapter 17.

ATP: Bran does need a lot of training, though Lysara doesn't have any training herself. She only goes by what feels right and she doesn't exactly have full control or understanding of her powers but in the next few chapters she will be helping him to the best of her ability. Lysara definitely knows about the creation of the White Walkers and that is why she holds such hostility towards beyond the Wall. I will definitely be adding the giants and elements from the books involving the giants.

Saint River: Thank you for reviewing! After the Red Wedding, I will definitely be follow most of the book in terms of how most Westeros especially the Northern Houses react. Lysara is hostile towards the Reeds but in Chapter 18, I will show why exactly she is. Though she definitely knows more about the lore of the Children, the White Walkers and the Other's than she lets on.