The northern conclave. A Winterfell betrothal, and yes, more script from the show, but again with a twist.
Jon
Laying Rickon to rest had been harder on Jon than it had been for Sansa. She had told him she had already grieved for Rickon and his second death seemed less painful. Jon wasn't sure, he wondered if Sansa was trying to pretend not to be upset to make him feel better for not saving her brother, despite knowing what would happen. He'd tried to make Rickon weave his way down the field, but the child hadn't understood. Eventually Jon had ridden out to grab him, but Ramsay had shot Rickon, just as he was within Jon's grasp, just as Sansa had warned. Once Rickon's body was in the ground and they were left alone for a few minutes, Sansa had given him the final preparations for the conclave, which was about to take place, followed later by a feast to celebrate winning the battle and whatever else became of the meeting. To which, Jon had to admit to himself, he was nervous of the outcome. Much to his surprise, Jon was most concerned with the notion of him and Sansa marrying. After much consideration, Jon was not just in favour of the wedding; after what had taken place the previous night between him and Sansa, he wanted it more than any crown.
The distaste towards having to wear a crown, only heightened as he sat at the high table with Sansa by his side. They were surrounded by representatives from Northern houses, the Vale, and the Freefolk. Jon spotted Tormund, who was sat among the wildlings, and Littlefinger who was stood alone. off to the side, watching on with interest, as the Lords argued.
"You can't expect Knights of the Vale to side with wildling invaders." Yohn Royce, decried.
"We didn't invade. We were invited." Tormund disagreed.
"Not by me." Lord Royce sat down in a huff.
Jon stood up to try and diffuse the situation. "The free folk, the northerners, and the Knights of the Vale fought bravely, fought together, and we won. My father uses to say we find our true friends on the battlefield."
Lord Cerwyn also stood. "The Boltons are defeated. The war is over. Winter has come. If the maesters are right, it'll be the coldest one in a thousand years. We should ride home and wait out the coming storms."
"The war is not over." Jon warned. "And I promise you, friend, the true enemy won't wait out the storm. He brings the storm." he looked around as the men began to murmur in response to his claim. Eventually Lyanna Mormont took to the floor.
She turned to Wyman Manderly. "Your son was butchered at the Red Wedding, Lord Manderly. But you refused the call." she then turned to Lord Glover. "You swore allegiance to House Stark, Lord Glover, but in their hour of greatest need, you refused the call. And you, Lord Cerwyn," she spat, looking at the accused. "your father was skinned alive by Ramsay Bolton. Still you refuse the call." Sansa had warned him about how Lyanna could shame grown men and make them quiver, after all, he'd faced her at Bear Island and had felt her wrath. If she were to somehow survive all of this mayhem; Jon thought she would make one of the strongest leaders in the north. He continued to listen to her speech. "But House Mormont remembers. The North remembers. We know no king but the King in the North whose name is Stark. I don't care if he's a bastard. Ned Stark's blood runs through his veins. He's my king from this day until his last day." this had been the speech Sansa had warned him of, he had to admit, he was impressed by the girl, even if her words made him feel uncomfortable, especially knowing what he was going to reveal to these very people after they'd proclaimed him King.
The Lords murmured as Lord Manderly took to the floor. "Lady Mormont speaks harshly and truly. My son died for Robb Stark, the Young Wolf. I didn't think we'd find another king in my lifetime. I didn't commit my men to your cause 'cause I didn't want more Manderlys dying for nothing. But I was wrong. Jon Snow avenged the Red Wedding. He is the White Wolf. The King in the North." he declared, drawing his blade and resting it point-down on the ground and knelt, displaying his fealty.
Next Lord Glover stood. "I did not fight beside you on the field and I will regret that until my dying day. A man can only admit when he was wrong and ask forgiveness." his voice wavered slightly.
"There's nothing to forgive, my Lord." Jon said.
"There will be more fights to come. House Glover will stand behind House Stark as we have for a thousands years. And I will stand behind Jon Snow… the King in the North!" he cried, joining Lord Manderly in drawing his blade, before standing it point-down on the ground and kneeling beside it. "The King in the North!"
Suddenly everyone in the hall stood and drew their blades. "The King in the North! The King in the North! The King in the North! The King in the North! The King in the North! The King in the North! The King in the North! The King in the North!" they chanted loudly.
As Jon stood, he noticed Littlefinger looking towards Sansa, just as she'd warned him. "My Lords, Ladies..." he looked to Lyanna Mormont and nodded in respect. "I am grateful to be honoured in this way. However, I did not fight for the north for myself, I fought for House Stark. To return Winterfell to the true Wardeness of the north, Lady Sansa Stark." the room erupted into applause. Jon held up his hand to quieten the room. "The title of King in the North, must be granted to a person from House Stark. And although Stark blood runs through my veins, I cannot claim house Stark as my own. I am not a Stark!"
"You are Ned Stark's bastard, that is good enough for me." Lyanna Mormont called out.
Jon smiled a weak smile. "As much as I wish that were the truth of the matter my Lady, I'm afraid it is not. Aye, Ned Stark was my father, but he was not the man who sired me." the room fell completely silent. Out of the corner of his eye, Jon could see Littlefinger looking at him with an expression which Jon could only suspect was a hidden fury on his face. Sansa had been right, Lord Baelish had known who he was and was going to use it against him. Jon outing himself threw Littlefinger's plans into the air, although he suspected the weasel had another scheme as a backup measure.
"You have a direwolf. Of course you are Ned's son." Lord Glover shouted.
"As I say my Lord, I have Stark blood running through my veins, but it is not the blood of Ned Stark."
"Who then?" Lord Cerwyn asked.
"Lyanna Stark was my mother. I am her trueborn son as she was wed before she died birthing me." Jon looked around, "My name is Aegon Targaryen." the room erupted into chaos as Jon sat down and sighed, looking towards Sansa for her too take control of the situation.
"My Lords." Sansa stood up. "I am aware this is most shocking news to most of you..."
"Is it true he shared your bed during the campaign?" a Lord who Jon didn't recognise shouted.
"How long have you known?" Lord Manderly asked.
"Lady Sansa, when did you learn of this?" Lord Glover cried.
"How do we know he's not mad?" Lord Cerwyn yelled. "They say every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin."
Jon was getting annoyed, so he stood back up. "Quiet!" he shouted, which to his surprise worked, he sat to allow Sansa to speak.
"Ned Stark is Jon's father, nothing will ever change that. He may have the blood of the dragon, but he knows nothing of that culture.." she started.
"He shares the bed of his sister. I think he knows plenty about the Targaryen culture." Lord Cerwyn spat. Sansa sat back down red-faced.
"What about the Iron Throne?" Lord Royce stood. "Prince Aegon is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne."
"I want no part in the petty squabbles of Kings Landing." Jon told them. "It is far too warm for my northern blood. Not only that, but I also doubt the climate would suit Ghost." he japed as a rumble of laughter circulated the room.
Littlefinger finally spoke. "How can we trust a man with the name Targaryen? What his grandfather did to Lord Rickard Stark and his heir, Brandon Stark cannot be forgotten. His mother and father threw the realm into chaos. Why choose him, simply because he is a man? Would not a gentle hearted woman be a better choice?" he asked.
"How can she rule without a man by her side?" Lord Glover asked. "Women know nothing of battle. And believe me, there will be more battles to come, especially when Cersei Lannister hears of the north taking back its independence."
Lyanna Mormont stood. "Why can't they both rule together?" she asked. "Lady Sansa has the name and Prince Aegon knows about war and already has command experience from his time at Castle Black."
"And what would happen when they decide to wed, my Lady?" Littlefinger asked.
"My Lord, that is what I was suggesting. Like Lord Cerwyn said, they already share a bed, and between them, their Stark blood is strong. Any heirs could take the Stark name."
"But my Lady, that would make the north an even greater target from Cersei Lannister." Littlefinger protested. "Having a Targaryen as King in the North would be an even greater threat to the Iron Throne than a Stark."
"And how would that threat play out? I'm not sure if you've noticed Lord Baelish, but winter is upon us. And southron armies do not fare well in the north, as Lord Stannis himself proved." Lyanna scoffed. "Lady Sansa is a Stark, she claims the person she trusts most in the world is Prince Jon. It might take them time to produce an heir, but wouldn't that be the best for everyone?" she asked.
"Isn't it a little too soon to be discussing marriage?" Littlefinger changed tactic. Jon smiled internally, the creep wanted Sansa for himself, and her marrying Jon would make his life very difficult.
"I would support the idea if Lady Sansa and prince Aegon agree to the match. Otherwise we might as well become part of the Seven Kingdoms as we'd never agree to whom we should choose." Lord Royce turned to Sansa. "There is no pressure my Lady." he looked to Jon. "Might it be prudent to let the Lady decide?" he asked, something which neither of them wanted. Littlefinger couldn't be allowed to think Sansa had any input into the idea of marriage, so Jon knew he had to act.
"As Lady Sansa's eldest male relative present, I have the final say on her marriage prospects. When Lady Sansa came to Castle Black, I made a promise that no man would ever lay a finger on her until she gave him permission to do so. The only way I can uphold that promise is to agree with Lady Lyanna and marry Lady Sansa myself. I will not lay a finger on her until she allows me to." Jon looked to Sansa. "That's if the Lady will have me." he turned back to the rest of the room. "I will accept being crowned King in the north if Sansa is crowned Queen with equal status."
"And risk no heirs?" Lord Royce frowned.
"I'm sure in time we will find a way." Jon told him. "My Lords, I shall let you discuss this amongst yourselves, while I talk in private with Lady Sansa."
"If Lady Sansa agrees to the match, I will name you King and Lady Sansa Queen upon marriage." Lyanna stated.
"Aye, so will house Glover."
"And house Cerwyn..."
The rest of the houses followed, and Jon noticed Littlefinger's face turning puce. Although he'd been invited to the conclave and had some input, the decision was that solely of the northern Lords. Jon turned to Sansa. "Lady Sansa, the Lords have agreed, but you have the final say. I will not wed you without permission."
Sansa stood. "My Lords and Lady. There are few people in the world I trust, even fewer I would trust with my body." she smiled at Jon. "I count my cousin as one such man. Therefore I will be honoured to be your wife." she smiled a smile which didn't reach her eyes. Jon knew to expect her smile to look fake, she'd warned him that she couldn't be happy in the presence of Littlefinger. Despite this knowledge, Jon's heart fell. He was responsible for forcing Sansa into another political marriage, even if he did plan on treating her right.
"So what we celebrating? A crowning? A kneeling, a wedding or a battle?"
"Tonight's feast will be to celebrate the battle and a betrothal." Jon commanded. "The coronation and wedding will take place on the same night, along with the feast. We will announce the date tonight at the feast. This meeting is now over."
Jon left the hall as quickly as possible, followed by Sansa. They exited through a private passageway which was meant only for the Lords and Ladies when they needed to retreat alone. This led them to Sansa's new chambers, or in truth, their new chambers, which had been made ready for that night. They sat down at the desk in the solar and Jon poured himself some ale and Sansa some wine, both needing the alcohol after the events which had just taken place.
"We did it." Sansa whispered, lifting her goblet up. Jon clinked it against his, but he didn't feel like celebrating. "What's wrong?"
"You're being forced into yet another political marriage, this time with me of all people." he put his head in his hands. There was a knock at the door.
"Come in." Sansa called out as Maester Wolkan who had served at Winterfell under the Bolton's, walked in.
"Three ravens my...er your Grace." Maester Wolkan clearly was struggling with how to address Jon, something even Jon himself had not even considered. The Maester handed Jon the ravens. One was from White Harbor, the other from the Citadel.
"Sam." Jon said excitedly when he saw the letter, however he wanted to wait until he and Sansa were alone to read it. The one from Dragonstone was from Ser Davos, and one had come from the Riverlands with the Lannister seal. He opened the lion sigil waxed letter first.
"It's from Brienne." he told Sansa and began to read it out loud.
Lady Sansa, Lord Jon
I have spoken with my contact who is currently unable to personally help to remove the cargo. However he has offered the services of one of his guards who knows all of the ways required to remove the shipment. We have spent the last sennight in Kings Landing planning the operation. Our ship is ready and we will gather the cargo at the last moment to confuse the ones who wish to destroy it.
Brienne
"When is the trial due?" Jon asked.
"Tomorrow." Sansa sighed. "I hear the siege is still underway at Riverrun with no end in sight. Ser Jaime didn't accompany them, so I presume he sent Ser Bronn with her. He knows the Red Keep well enough to free Margaery. I worry freeing Margaery so close to the trial might confuse matters and Tommen could believe Margaery is in the Sept. if so he'll kill himself."
"Not everyone can be saved." Jon smiled sadly. "Rickon is still dead." he added.
Sansa nodded. "I know." she agreed. "What does the raven from Ser Davos say?"
Jon
I've sent the first shipment of dragonglass to White Harbor. If you are reading this, it is on its way to you from there. Along with the dragonglass is the table map of Westeros, Gendry, the books from the Dragonstone library and some clothes for Lady Sansa to utilise. The next shipment should be along in a fortnight, with it will be bedding, clothes, the entire supplies for the Maester. Ask Lord Manderly for the details of the transportation arrangements.
Davos
Jon looked to Maester Wolkan. "Can you send for Lord Manderly?" he asked.
"Yes your grace." Maester Wolkan had clearly decided on which title to use since Jon hadn't corrected him last time. The Maester left Jon and Sansa alone while he fetched the Lord of White Harbor, and Jon read out loud Sam's letter.
I've read the diaries of Septon Maynard as you suggested. There are two entries regarding the said person. One is a marriage annulment, the other is of a second marriage. Other than dragonglass, the only two fire types that would work are dragonfire and wildfire. I am trying to find the information you have requested in that regards, but the order are very secretive. I will write back soon.
Sam.
"Reply to him, but burn that letter." Sansa warned. "If Littlefinger gets his hands on it, he will use it against you. He'd have Sam killed if he knew who had the evidence of you being trueborn. He wants the Iron Throne and you are now an obstacle, made worse by being my husband." she stood up and began to pace the room. "I need to sew, it helps me think." she sighed as she left for her bedchamber for a moment, before returning with some white material, a needle and some thread. She sat in front of the fire and began to stitch, her brow puckered as she was thinking. Feeling useless, Jon decided to write a reply to Sam.
Sam
Sansa and I have re-taken Winterfell and are soon to be wed. Keep hold of Septon Maynard's information from your letter, do not tell anyone. It is believed, dragon's are unable to cross the wall, so they will be of little use to us against the army of the dead. I have dragonglass. Therefore you need to concentrate you efforts on the other alternative. Stay safe, take care of Gilly and Little Sam.
Jon
"We need to marry soon." Sansa said. "Littlefinger isn't expecting the marriage to be consummated, which he will expect to buy him time. I need to make sure he continues to think that, regardless of whether or not we have..." she looked up at him and blushed. Jon felt his breeches tighten at the thought. "I need to make sure he does not think you are not a threat to him and his goals." Sansa sounded like she was as much talking to herself as she was him. "He needs to think you are a friend." she glanced up at Jon. "That means no threatening him." she warned.
Jon frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"Apparently you almost killed him in the crypts. He only mentioned his affections for me and you had him up against the wall, choking him." Sansa chuckled.
Jon pouted. "Are you going to deny the chance to threaten him? It is a memory I very much look forward to making."
"I'll let you execute him instead of Arya." Sansa offered.
Jon nodded. "I accept." he smiled as there was a knock at the door. "Come in." he called out as Lord Manderly entered the chambers.
"Your grace's, you wished to see me." he bowed his head, his body being too large to be able to bow properly.
"Sit Lord Manderly." Sansa offered the chair opposite her by the fire. "Would you like ale or some wine? It is Dornish red, but not a particularly favourable vintage." she admitted.
Lord Manderly sat. "I'll have the wine, your grace." he grinned, as Sansa poured him a cup of wine and handed it to him. "Now, what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked.
"We have received a raven from Lord Seaworth." Jon told him. "The first ship has arrived at White Harbor. He says you have the details of the arrangements to transport the goods from White Harbor to Winterfell."
"Aye." Lord Manderly nodded. "The roads are treacherous from all of the snow. Only the main ones are passable, so we are going to split the goods into smaller boats and sail them up the White Knife, until we reach the Kingsroad, or Castle Cerwyn. You will need to send your own horses and carts to transport them from there."
"How long should it take to reach the Castle Cerwyn from White Harbor?" Jon asked.
"A week at the most." Lord Manderly said. "Even in this weather, the White Knife is easy to navigate. Too many boats pass through for it to freeze over."
"It is only a days ride from Castle Cerwyn to Winterfell." Sansa said. "If not we can send our own men." she suggested.
"We'll speak with him shortly." Jon nodded.
"May I speak freely?" Lord Manderly asked.
Jon and Sansa looked to one another. "Of course My Lord." Jon nodded.
"How do you both really feel about the marriage?" he asked.
Sansa frowned. "Jon will be the best of my three husbands, of that I have no doubt."
"I don't have high standards to live up to if I were only to try and better them." Jon laughed. "I am happy with the idea. I don't like the notion of being paraded around like a bull in a cattle market."
"And you, Your Grace?" Lord Manderly looked at Sansa.
"As a woman, my place has always been one of being bought and sold as a brood mare. If marrying Jon gives me a voice as a Queen, then there is no better man to marry in the entire Seven Kingdoms." she smiled coyly.
"But you were raised as siblings, do you not find that a little...awkward?" he asked.
Jon and Sansa looked at each other and laughed. "Lord Manderly..." Jon started. "Do you ever remember seeing me on your visits to Winterfell?" he asked. Lord Manderly went red and shook his head. "Do you know why that is?"
"I hear the late Lady Stark was not fond of you." Lord Manderly replied.
"Aye, she tried to keep me away from my brothers and sisters. It wasn't proper for them to mix with a bastard. She thought I would take away their birthright." Jon started.
"I was the only one who was sensitive to my mother's request." Sansa bowed her head in shame. "A part of me is angry I behaved so badly towards Jon. I pretended he didn't exist. A part of me is glad. If mother had let me be close to Jon, then this marriage would have been impossible."
"And you?" Lord Manderly asked Jon.
"Robb, Arya, Bran and Rickon will always be my brothers and sister. But Sansa and I barely knew one another. Sansa was closer to Theon Greyjoy than she was to me." Jon explained. "We have always been family, but never siblings."
"That is good to know." Lord Manderly smiled. "It will make it easier to know that an heir would be forthcoming."
Jon was about to speak, but Sansa was quicker. "We will try our best to produce an heir as soon as possible." she smiled, glancing over at Jon with a smirk on his face, confusing him. Did she actually mean it, or was she placating the old man. "Of course I am no made, and Maester Wolkan can confirm I am not with child right now. He was giving me moon tea while I was being held here by the Bolton's."
"That's good." Lord Manderly nodded.
"If you'd excuse me, I need to send this raven and speak with Lord Cerwyn." Jon told got up to leave Sansa with the Lord of White Harbor.