Disclaimer – It has come to my attention recently that I unfortunately do not own any part of the Game of Thrones universe or the characters mentioned below. Who knew.

Author Note – I enjoy writing short stories for my own enjoyment but at a suggestion from a friend, I have decided to start posting some of my stories that I am working on or have completed. All feedback is welcome (hopefully constructive!) Looking forward to what you think!

Snapping out of his recollection, Jon opened the cage for one of the ravens for Castle Black. After attaching the letter and taking the bird outside to release him, Jon returned to the rookery and made sure all windows and doors were closed, not wanting to actually release the ravens to the wild, crippling Winterfell's ability to communicate with other castles. After confirming there were no obvious exits available to the ravens, Jon managed to open all the raven doors quietly, the first couple of ravens only starting to come out of their cages as Jon was slipping back into the hallway.

After an uneventful trip back to his room, Jon laid his head on his pillow smiling at what he had managed to achieve that day. Knowing that tomorrow was going to be a stressful day, Jon closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of Ghost next to him, as he slipped off, welcomed to the land of sleep by dreams of dragons, Others, and the most beautiful woman he had ever had the chance to meet.

Jon shook his head slightly, a little dismayed at the pageantry. An even ten trumpeters stood on either side of the inner courtyard and were announcing the arrival of King Robert. After the trumpeters finally ceased their call, in paraded the procession, several dozen banners and knights, followed by their squires and freeriders.

Once they had filled most of the square, the notables began to enter. First was Jaime Lannister, Jon was impressed with how carefree and arrogant he looked, realizing that besides losing his sword hand, Jaime had grown a lot over the next couple years, hoping the change was not due solely on the loss of his hand. He was followed by Sandor Clegane, who looked as angry at the world as ever. Jon hoped that for all the help he had provided Arya, that someday he would be able to find peace. However, Jon doubted that he would be the man to help him achieve it, while Jon hated the elder Clegane based on the stories he had heard, detailing the horrors he had inflicted on Jon's family, he personally had no death wish and could not imagine a scenario where he would challenge Ser Gregor to a fight. Definitely not a scenario where he could win. Jon paused his musings about the Cleganes, remembering a letter he had received while at the Wall detailing the fight between Ser Gregor and Prince Oberyn, Jon decided that maybe he would try to arrange a meeting of those two and hope history repeated itself, but that was a problem for the future.

His deliberations immediately stopped as the next rider rode in, chilling Jon's blood and making him reach subconsciously for his sword. For in rode Prince Joffrey. If half of the stories Sansa had relayed were accurate, this monster deserved to die in the most horrible, gruesome way imaginable. He had tortured innocents for fun and had led to the War of the Five Kings, which had almost eliminated the entirety of the Starks, the moment when he chose to have Ned Stark beheaded.

Realizing there was nothing he could do, at least nothing he could do at that moment, Jon attempted to calm himself. However, no matter what method Jon tried to calm himself he was unable to relax until the next rider rode in. Jon could only smile at the sight of Tyrion Lannister, perched awkwardly in a unique saddle. Before Jon could start to even reminisce of the discussions and wisdom gained from the dwarf, the trumpeters began again as the remaining Kingsguard and King Robert rode in.

Jon watched as his uncle and the King embraced and greeted each other like the old friends they were, watched without envy as the Stark children were introduced to Joffrey and his siblings, watched at the awkwardness as Queen Cersei attempted to stop her husband from going down to the crypts and then watched as King Robert publically and very loudly embarrassed her in front of everyone.

While Jon could certainly understand grieving over someone you had lost, Jon could not understand what drove a man to act so callously publically to a woman he agreed to wed and bed, a woman he believed had fathered him three children (although knowing what to look for Jon could see that there was no familial similarity between any of Cersei's children and the King). Jon knew Cersei was a powerful and severely underestimated player in the future of Westeros and knew that she bordered on mad; he could at least understand what drove her to arrange the death of her husband, as seeing their interactions up close served to confirm the rumors that he had heard, once upon a time.

Once the pleasantries were completed, Ned Stark led the King off to the crypt, while Catelyn Stark and her children led Queen Cersei and the royal children off to their accommodations, and Ser Rodrik attempted to take control of the chaos within the courtyard and direct those to where they needed to go. Jon smiled as he noticed that the Stark children seemed to be short one child and smiled at having missed Arya sneak off at some point.

As his eyes slid over the courtyard taking in the utter chaos that was taking place, Jon could not help but comparing it to looking an awful lot like when an individual tried to herd cats.

In mid chuckle, Jon froze, for there right at the edge of the yard stood a familiar face, not looking at Jon Snow but appearing to be evaluating all the individuals in the courtyard. This face triggered a memory and all of a sudden he was up north looking at the same face surrounded by Wildlings he would come to care about. For there, holding a lute, stood Mance Rayder.

Jon had forgotten that Mance had been in attendance in Winterfell during the King's visit and realized perhaps he could find some way to reach out to the Wildlings through him, to let them know that there is hope for them and someone knows of the threat of the Others and is working for their benefit. However, Jon realized that task would have to wait for now as Ser Rodrik was approaching him with a determined look on his face, no doubt to assign him some task.

Jon Snow could not remember a time he had seen the Great Hall so full, or so loud, as he was sitting down enjoying his meal. While Jon had surely enjoyed the first time he had attended this meal, Jon was sure he been so focused on the idea of becoming a brother in the Night's Watch and as such was pretty sure that this evening he was more aware of the surroundings. Of course, there was also the fact that by the time Benjen had sat down with him the previous feast he had been indulging rather significantly with those at the table and had already been quite drunk. This time however, Jon had only had one drink of wine and that was when the King had begun the feast. Jon figured he would have stood out a little bit if he had not toasted to the King's health, although the King looked plenty healthy. Healthy enough for three men, Jon thought with a laugh.

Jon was shaken out of his musings as someone clapped his shoulder from behind, "Oy if it is not one of my favorite nephews!" A familiar voice from his past exclaimed, a familiar voice that likely had died alone North of the Wall.

Jon spun around and exclaimed, "Uncle! It is so good to see you! I did not expect you to sit down here."

His uncle smiled, "My brother had offered a seat of honor with him but I felt uncomfortable sitting up there, it is nothing like what I am used to at Castle Black. At least down here I can have more fun, plus the quality of people is at least a little more enjoyable."

Jon noticed that while he said this last part in a jesting tone, his uncle had been unable to stop himself from looking in the direction of Ser Jaime and Queen Cersei.

Jon smiled at his uncle, "Well if you have come for good company. You shall not find any around here but I welcome you to join us anyways. It has been too long Uncle and I do not yet know when we will see you again. I apologize for not bringing my Direwolf, I am sure he would have enjoyed eating you, my apologizes, meeting you." Jon said with a laugh. "But I left him in my room for the banquet. He has been on edge since the Kings party has arrived but I feel that is my fault as I have been more on edge and I believe he mirrors my behavior sometimes, at least my temperament."

Benjen sat down with a laugh, "Aye so when did the brooding wolf become such a jokester. Honestly, the boy I remember took after my brother in more than just looks, you appear to be more Stark than any of his children up there…except perhaps Arya, and you used to be at least as stoic as the Great Eddard Stark. How many cups have you had Jon? Not that I am judging mind you, I was younger than you are now when I had gotten drunk with my siblings. Although as bad as I had been, my sister was even worse off that night." Benjen laughed at the memory.

Jon smiled, "I have only had one drink and that was to toast his Majesty." Jon pointed to the head table. He continued in a more serious tone, "I am just relieved to see you, it has indeed been a while. I know that what you do is risky and I worry that there may be a day you do not come back."

Benjen smiled at him, "Well it is honestly good to see you as well, nephew. You are looking well. As for my safety, you need not worry, the Wildlings do not scare me. They would need greater numbers than they truly possess and much greater skills than they have to get close to me."

Jon smiled at the irony of his Uncle's words, as Jon glanced across the room to where Mance was sitting currently playing a song on his lute. However, his expression sobered as under his breath he replied, "It is not the Wildlings that worry me."

Benjen misunderstood his nephews expression and changed topics in an effort to get away from the subject of his duties North of the Wall, "Now what is this plan I have heard about you possibly heading South with my brother?"

Jon looked over at his uncle in surprise, "You have heard already?"

Benjen smiled, "Aye had a meeting with my brother when I arrived and he shared the reason for the Kings visit and then we talked about his plans. It sounds as if he does mean to take you, although he asked me not to share the specifics."

Jon smiled not realizing that Ned had apparently made up his mind, relieved that he had the chance to think on it. Although he realized that Ned Stark was nothing if not a man of his word. "Well that is good to hear, it will be nice to see the world and …get out of this castle." Jon said with a covert glance in the direction of Lady Stark.

Benjen must have either noticed the look or just understood the dynamics that Jon was exposed to. "I am sorry you feel less than welcome here. But know that there are plenty in your family who care about you. I know for a fact that my brother would do anything to make sure you were kept safe."

Jon froze and looked at his uncle wondering just how much Benjen Stark knew of his story. He certainly never referred to Eddard Stark as his father and he made comments such as that which might be read a certain way. Deciding there was no point in focusing on that right now, especially in the crowded Great Hall. Jon looked back to his Uncle, "I know he cares for me and I believe the fact that I would not have lived had he not brought me back here. He is a good man in his own way. That is certain."

Benjen smiled, "I would toast to that. To Eddard Stark, a good man, in his own way."

Jon laughed and joined the toast, as did those around them, although Jon was unsure how many of them actually were toasting to the Warden of the North and how many just used it as a convenient excuse to fit in another drink.

After the toast, Jon looked back to his Uncle. "Aye I had originally been considering heading to the Wall to serve with you. I truly believe in your brotherhood and believe that the Wall needs good men. I believe myself to be one. However, I realize that I am young still and while even the young are capable of some great things I would be better served by travelling down to King's Landing…or wherever my father plans for me to go, seeing the world and learning more. And then in a couple years if the Night's Watch has not solved all the issues that plague Westeros from North of the Wall, perhaps I could come up and solve all your issues for you." Jon continued ending with a smile on his face, letting his uncle know that he was indeed jesting.

Benjen laughed and toasted Jon, "To Jon Snow future savior of the Night's Watch. But there are things worse than the Wildlings to deal with North of the Wall. Things are getting worse…" He trailed off, as those around them joined in 'toasting Jon Snow'.

When the toasts died down, he continued "But that is a good plan, perhaps find yourself a nice maiden in the south and father several…"

Jon interrupted and with an icy cold voice cut him off, "I will not be the father of any bastards. None of my children will ever be anything but equal. I would not wish bastardom on anyone."

Jon stood up, excusing himself from the table and made his way to a quiet alcove, realizing that everyone assuming he was and treating him like a bastard still was a tender topic for him, a little disappointed in himself for responding that way to his uncle, especially knowing the truth now behind his parentage.

As Jon stood in the alcove, he glanced over towards Mance while he fingered the parchment that was in his robe, one addressed to Mance Rayder that he had written out right before attending the feast. Realizing that Mance would recognize him from the time he had visited while still in the Night's Watch he waved over a serving boy to bring over the letter.

The boy came over and Jon began speaking, "I have a letter to be delivered would you be able to deliver it for me, I just do not want them to know who sent it. Could you do that?"

Rather than say anything the boy simply nodded his head and smiled.

It was during that smile that the teeth parted slightly revealing the lack of a tongue. And it was this sight that triggered a memory of a conversation that had occurred in the future. One where Varys described his Little Birds and the lack of tongues reducing the chances for them to share secrets.

Jon mentally smacked himself in the head; of course, Varys would have his Little Birds travelling with the King's entourage as they proceeded North, if not within Winterfell already.

Seeing the boy was looking at him expectantly, Jon forced out a hollow laugh and lied to the boy, "Actually never mind, I do not think it is ready to be given to my lady."

The boy looked at Jon before releasing a silent laugh and shaking his head. Jon hoped that the boy just thought of him as a hopeless and nervous boy with affections for a girl and would soon forget about him, as he searched for other gossip or material to pass along back to the spider. Jon once again fingered the letter in his pocket, relieved he had not handed it over.

Deciding that he had narrowly avoided the letter being intercepted once, Jon decided not to tempt fate and he would make sure that the letter was delivered himself. With that determination, he slowly walked over towards where the musicians were gathered.

Thanking his luck, he arrived shortly after Mance had finished a song and was seemingly distracted by a rather well-endowed serving woman who he appeared to be in deep conversation with. Hoping to not draw attention to himself Jon walked up to the lute Mance had been playing and quickly slipped the parchment between the strings. With his mission accomplished Jon walked away as naturally as he could manage to a table close enough he would be able to make sure it was indeed Mance who picked up the parchment.

After what seemed like an extraordinary long conversation with the serving woman, Mance eventually turned his back the musicians. Jon had been a little concerned Mance had planned to disappear with the woman for a while. However, that appeared to not be the case as he reached down towards his instrument before freezing as he noticed the parchment in his instrument's strings. This caused his head to immediately jerk up and scan everyone in the near vicinity, Jon was confident he was far enough away to escape notice but pretended to take an interest in the conversation that was occurring at the table.

MANCE'S POV

Mance Rayder was certainly enjoying his evening. It seemed that everything had been working out in his favor lately.

It had all started when one of his Wildling scouts had accidently stumbled on a campsite of his former brothers in the Night's Watch who were ranging north of the wall. The Wildling had accidently gotten close to them but by the time he realized they were there did not feel comfortable running away without alerting the black brothers to his presence. As such, he just crouched in the snow until they had gone to sleep and the one on watch was on the other side of the clearing before running away. While the Wildling was hiding there, he had overheard the members of the Night's Watch talking about how Benjen Stark had gotten a letter from his brother, Warden of the North, Eddard Stark, and would be heading to visit him as the King was coming to Winterfell.

Hearing this concerned Mance, as he could not think of a single reason for their King to make a visit to Winterfell, surely it could not be good. In the event he was coming North for a reason unrelated to the Wildlings, Mance supposed this would be a good opportunity to get a feeling for the strength of their leader and perhaps see if it would be possible to open dialogue with him and warn him of what was coming.

Realizing that none of the Wildlings had the skills or desire to blend in with those south of the wall, Mance decided that he himself would have to go to Winterfell to get a measure on this, King Robert, and see if he could discern his intents.

From that point, everything had gone smoothly for him. As the scout had relayed that Benjen was to head south in a fortnight, Mance headed south immediately. He made it to the wall and managed to sneak over with a small group of Wildlings, ones he could trust had the ability to stay hidden on the south side of the wall while he went to Winterfell himself.

After finding a safe location about a days walk from the wall for them to hide, Mance struck out on his own realizing time might be tight in order to make it to Winterfell before the King's caravan had arrived. However, he had barely made it two hours down the road the next morning before he happened across a donkey. Seeing now one around, he quickly made use of the donkey and made it to Winterfell in advance of the King. Realizing that there might be those within Winterfell who could recognize him, even after all these years if he arrived alone. He decided to head south and meet up with the King's party and be able to enter Winterfell as part of the caravan. Within a day he met up with the outriders and using the excuse of a travelling minstrel, he managed to gain access to travel with the other musicians. From there he managed to enter Winterfell two days later and was given a straw mat to sleep on with the other musicians and was told he would be expected to play at the feasts and would be paid at the end of each night.

Of course the first night there was a large welcoming feast and Mance had been granted a seat where to play. He sat and played his lute, many songs that were requested he did not know but he knew a fair number and those around him certainly enjoyed the songs he did play. Of course, when he was not playing Mance was talking with everyone, from fellow mucisians, to the knights and squires walking by, to the serving boys and women. Mance was talking to all of them not knowing who might have a piece of information that would be important but knowing that anyone could possess something.

In general, Mance was largely disappointed with the individuals present. Certainly Eddard Stark cut an imposing figure and was likely as stern a person as he appeared to be but Mance had trouble putting stories of the King together with the fat lecherous slob that sat in the seat of honor. He had heard stories of the amazing fighter that Robert Baratheon was, the inspiring leader who had managed to end the Targaryen dynasty, but …the man in front of everyone resembled that individual, that warrior about as much as Tormund resembled the King's wife.

As Mance finished his latest conversation with the serving woman who had implied several times that she was not unopposed to sharing his bed for the night, he turned back to prepare for his next set of songs and picked up his instrument, only then noticing that a piece of parchment was wedged into the strings of the instrument.

Immediately his head shot up trying to identify who had left this here for him, however, he was unable to identify anyone nearby who looked suspicious and there was not one hurrying away. With curiosity he picked up the paper and began reading. Slowly becoming more pale as he read.

To the man with the lute,

I know of who you are. Have no fear, for while I am from around these parts and not from where you were born I wish you no harm. Rather I wish to let you know that the danger that approaches you is known to at least myself as well. I am aware that the danger will not stop with you for indeed it is unlikely the cold will be stopped by a wall. I write this to let you know that I support you uniting those of your people and aiming to protect them from what is coming, I shall be attempting to do the same with the people I care about, unite and protect.

I believe that there are several individuals that you keep company with that I could come to call my friends one day, as they are truly honorable individuals. As such I will do everything I am capable of to make sure that effort is made to protect them from what is coming, even though we face a large task ahead of ourselves, as old anger lies deeply and there are certainly many who would not want to help you simply based on who you are. While I do not believe the solution is as simple as welcoming you in, I am sure there will be a way to help your people and deprive our enemy of future recruits.

I wish you the best of luck on your journey home and suggest you continue with what you are doing for now. However, I do offer you this one piece of advice. I know there is one individual in your lands who you consider one of your own but shun him for the fact that he beds his daughters and makes them wives, only to them bed daughters he gets off them. Certainly, this is a disgusting habit that by itself would be worth killing him over, but I ask that you consider what he does to his sons as a worse crime. He does not simply kill his sons to remove competition over his resources but he leaves them in the woods believing them to be a sacrifice to his god. However, his god is not a god but rather something else. Something other. His god has been using the sacrifices to make generals in his army. I believe the world will be much better off without a man such as this in it.

I offer you this one last piece of advice, while I believe that you know of the man who guards the path between our land and yours and were even brotherly with this man once upon a time. I urge you to consider reaching out to this man or at least welcoming advances to talk if he reaches out to you. While he certainly holds you in no high regard he is an honorable man and would not doom all your people to death, although it will take time. I suggest you make the most of what time there is and to increase your efforts and consider there may be alternative solutions than just walking in the other direction from the threat and hoping to be let through a door.

Mance looked over the letter three times, feeling an icy chill slowly work its way into his bones with each reading. Each time he finished the letter he had looked up trying to identify who had written this letter, who knew so much about the approaching plight? However, try as he may he had been unable to identify any suspects and resigned himself to the mystery. As for this letter Mance was unsure how to feel, it was a relief to know that at least one Southerner understood what was coming and that individual had sympathy. But that relief was weighed down with the conformation that what he believed was coming was indeed coming and the worry over what could a single individual do, how could one individual help save the Wildlings.

Realizing that this letter was likely more important than any other scrap of information he might pick up, Mance stood and excused himself saying he needed to relieve himself, carrying only his lute and the note with him as he walked away. He planned to destroy the letter once out of the hall, although he complemented the way in which the letter was written, realizing that whoever had written the letter had not wanted others to know who Mance was, if the letter had been discovered. Making his way to a brazier in the courtyard only long enough to watch the letter burn up and try to remove the icy chill that had settled in his bones when reading the letter, he snuck out over of the castle walls, a task he noted with a chuckle was significantly easier than the last wall he had gone over.

Once on the other side, he quickly liberated his donkey from a makeshift stable that had been erected for all animals of the travelling caravan, as those in Winterfell did not want to deal with the droppings of well over 500 animals. Within an hour of reading the note, Mance was heading north to meet up with those he came over the wall with and hopefully step up his plans,…although possibly stopping at Craster's Keep would be a worthwhile detour…

JON'S POV

Jon Snow could not help but smile as he watched Mance Rayder hurrying out of the room. Happy that at least this letter received a response; Jon could only hope the other two letters were received with such action. Jon turned around to head back towards where his uncle had been sitting, hoping to apologize for his rude departure, however, saw that his uncle was no longer at their original table. Deciding that perhaps Benjen had gone outside to clear his head, either from the smoke, drink, or Jon's rude dismissal, he headed out the nearest door to see if he could find him to apologize, unsure if he would get the chance again as he was not heading north this time.

However, Jon had scarcely taken two paces out of the door before he collided with and almost tripped over a man. Well, perhaps better described as a half man…

Kind Regards,

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