"What do you make of the ruin?" Mya asked, kneeling to pluck a flower that had grown through the floorboards.

"It's…" He started, walking past the patches of grass sprouting through the wooden planks on the floor, he leaned against the rotted bar and looked up at the moss ridden beams and gaping hole in the ceiling. "Standing, better than the rest of the town."

A spider ran up his arm, he let it climb onto his hand then ran it around in circles as he imagined the tavern in its prime, big hearth in the middle of the room roasting some boar or chicken, the floor lined with tables of merry men coming off of work, an inn master behind the bar pouring everyone drinks.

That's what I have to restore. He thought, though he felt uncertain, all of this was so new to him, as though he was five years old again, wooden blade too heavy for his arms, falling behind Robb while Theon endlessly mocked. I didn't let doubt stop me then, I won't let it stop me now.

"I found the mine entrance!" they heard Domeric calling them from the outside, Jon let the spider back on the table, but no sooner did Zephyr fly through the hole in the ceiling and snatch the poor creature before flying off. Jon shook his head at the display and followed Mya out of the tavern, taking a step over the fallen door and finding the Bolton standing in the middle of the overgrown roads.

Behind him were two ruined wooden huts, their roofs completely caved in and their walls giving way, and one standing stone house, though it too had vines and weeds growing on its walls.

Their steps crunched against the dry grass that had overrun the roads, around them sprouted dozens more houses like the ones that were behind Domeric. all in all he counted thirty odd buildings.

The sounds of crunching grass clashed mixed the sounds of running water, a spring ran near the mine, its source unseen somewhere high in the mountains that towered above them, it might be an adventure to explore it someday, but he doubted he would find the time.

"Hey Dom." Mya said, stopping the man to pin the flower in his hair as she smiled. "A gift!"

"My lady?" He said, moving to pull it out, but she swatted his hand away.

"Red suits you." She said. "And call me Mya."

"You never get me gifts." Jon said.

"You want a flower too, princess?" She asked, pulling her mouth into an exaggerated, mocking pout, but she was too slow to stop his hand from tickling her. "Stop, stop!"

She ran away laughing, and Jon tried to run after, but his boot caught some root and he fell flat into the grass, hearing only the laughter of his companions around him.

"First priority will be fixing the roads!" He said, taking Domeric's hand and dusting himself off.

"You should also look for a smith." Domeric said, pointing at a ruined building with a steel making furnace and bellows outside it, the trio walked towards it and saw rusted blades, ingots and pickaxes lying on the shattered wooden floor, though the bellows and furnace seemed in working condition. "We would ship out steel instead of iron."

"No anvil though." Jon said, running a hand across the tears in the bellows. "Those things must be expensive."

"Perhaps the Gates has a spare." Domeric said, then pointed at the entrance to the mine that was built into mountain next to them. "Those are the mines."

"Should we explore them?" Mya asked.

"Seems like a poor idea." Domeric responded, "There could be some kind of poisonous fumes, or they might cave in on us."

"We should stick our heads inside, at least." Jon said, Domeric shrugged at that.

But no sooner did he approach the mine that he felt something crunching underfoot, not grass, nor weeds, but remains. A skull, and when he looked around, he saw dozens like it scattered among the bushes, skulls as well as bones and ribs and femurs of every shape and size.

"The previous occupants of this mine?" Domeric asked, he seemed less bothered by the sight than Mya who's face wore a grimace.

"We should bury them." She finally declared, her back was straight, and her tone leaving no room for debate. "Put them to rest, after decades of desecration."

Jon only wordlessly nodded, moved to dig alongside her, Domeric joining them a moment later


Willowbrook laid only thirty minutes away from the mines on horseback and a couple of hours from the Bloody Gates.

The village was named so for the many willows that used to dot its forests, the willows that the Andals chose to build the village with an age ago, or so Mya had told him the last time they rode here. Like most towns in the Vale, it had a small palisade surrounding it to detract from attacks by the clansmen. The blackfish had ordered some knights to the village to help protect it from stray clansmen, that had been the last time Millicent visited months ago.

As they neared the village, they passed great herds of cattle being shepherded about the meadows, meadows which turned into farmlands of half harvested fields yellow wheat and rye with rows of men scattered along them reaping the grain and tying them into large bales.

As the village came into view, the wheat fields turned into crops of onions, leeks and beans, and on the roads were many farmers with hoes and scythes resting on their shoulders walking along side carts carrying harvests to and fro. In one of the harvested fields, he saw an armored man walking about looking at the farmers with a bored look on his face, a face that Jon recognized.

"Ser Tristan!" he called out to the man, who turned and recognized him soon enough, then ran over towards them. "It's been too long, ser."

"That it has, Snow." The knight said, the man had been a squire when Jon first arrived at the Gates but he had earned his knighthood a few months ago and had been promptly sent away to a post, apparently one here. "But what are you doing here? I saw men at arms with Sister Millicent passing by, do you bring word from the Blackfish?"

"Nothing of the sort, we're rebuilding a nearby mine. You'll be seeing more of us in the months to come." Jon said. "Do you know where the sept is? That's where the sister and the rest were headed."

"Truly? I thought she had business with her aunt."

"Who is the sister's aunt?" Domeric asked from in front of him.

"Lady of the village, did she not tell you?" He asked and was met with the three looks of surprise.

"Sister Millicent is a noble?" Mya asked.

"Minor nobility, but yes." He said. "She fell into her aunt's care after father died in the Rebellion, then ran off to join the faith, or so I've heard."

"Why did she run?"

"No one knows, but do be careful around Lady Eleanor, sers, she can be rather… determined, but I do believe she has the interests of the people of the village at heart, given her clashes with the other knights."

"Clashes? Who else did the blackfish send?"

"It's me, Ser Gilbert and Ser Stewart," Tristan said. "She does not believe it's enough given the stories we hear of the mountain men and wished for us to start a militia."

"Gilbert and Stewart? Start a militia?" Jon said, laughing. "Those two would sooner meet the Stranger than do any work."

"Aye, they spend most days drunk at the inn." Tristan said, looking rather embarrassed. "The Lady wants to send them back to the Gates, but they're not leaving, it has made things… tense."

"Why not whip them into shape?" Domeric asked. "You clearly take your work seriously."

"I, it's hard, ser." Tristan said, looking even more embarrassed, he's too scared to cross them, too desperate for their approval. Jon thought but liked the boy too much to force the confession out of him.

"Thank you for the catchup." Jon said, nodding to the man and riding off with the rest.

"I always hated those two." Mya said, from where she was sitting behind him on the horse.

"At least things won't be boring." Domeric said, shrugging. "Better than another day at the Gates."

He's not wrong.

The village stood in the shadow of a jagged cliffside, it was far smaller than Winter's Town back in the north, but still large for a village. Inside its walls were rows upon rows of log and stone houses, as they neared the open gates they were drowned in endless, rhythmic digging echoing from the stone quarries nearby.

In the town proper there were many stonemasons chiseling away at the stones the quarrymen harvested, and many more carts carrying away the cut stone they produced. He did not imagine trade was blossoming in these parts, but he knew the Bloody Gates, the Gates of the Moon, the Eyrie, and the three smaller castles on the Giant's Lance relied on stone from these quarries for their maintenance.

Most eyes averted from them as they rode through, horses were rare enough somewhere this rural, especially horses this big. Those who sat upon their backs were either lords or knights, and most commoners wanted for neither's attention.

I am one step removed from a lord and one step removed from a knight. He thought, he wondered if his father had found his mother in a village like this, how beautiful she must of have been to catch his eye.

As they neared the town square, dirt and mud paths turned into cobblestone roads, and their horses' steel shoes clattered against it as they rode. The market in the square was filled with people peddling everything from meat and grain to bolts of cloth and suits of leather armor.

They found the wagons and mules that the men at arms had ridden in on posted outside an inn, the men were meant to secure them lodgings, but instead Jon found them loudly drinking alongside two men he recognized as Ser Gilbert and Ser Stewart.

"Gentlemen." Jon said smashing his fists into their table to grab their attention, every set of eyes turned to him. "Have you found us rooms?"

"Uh, we tried ser, but…" one of the men who came with them said.

"He's no ser." Ser Gilbert said, him and Stewart were clearly several drinks in. They were thirty something year old knights with comely faces, but from the few bouts he had with them, Jon knew their bones were frail. "Lay it off, Snow, let us drink!"

The table hoorah'd at that, Jon wanted nothing more than to escalate things, but he thought better of it.

"If we don't find rooms, you're sleeping with the mules." Jon said, pointing at the table, but then walked away, pretending not to see the mocking face Stewart made as he left.

I'll handle them later. He thought, unlike Tristan, their validation was the last thing he was after.

But for now, they went find Millicent, the trio checked the sept, the markets, even the inns, but just as they were about to worry for her, a messenger approached and informed them that they were invited have dinner with the Lady Eleanor.

The Lady Eleanor's estate was no great fort or castle, it was even smaller than the Great Keep back in Winterfell, though its quaint surroundings made it look rather imposing. A stone manor built near the market square with guards posted along its heavy oak doors and small gardens outside it.

After he surrendered his greatsword and Domeric his longsword, they were allowed inside. For a moment, Jon thought he was back in Winterfell or the Bloody Gates, the rooms were spacious, the floors were marble, and the walls lined with tapestries and furniture, they passed many servants who gossiped and laughed with no worry in the world, until they reached the main hall of the manor, a large room drowning in warm lantern light, with a long table at its center.

Waiting for them there was the Lady of the town sitting the head of the table, with the Sister Milicent looking despondent to her right hand and three children of various ages to her left.

"Ah, ser, my lord, my lady." The lady said, addressing them all with a curtsey, though she did look a little surprised by them. He could see the familial resemblance between the lady and the septa, but she did not bear the same auburn hair, nor the same green eyes, rather she had long hair that flowed like black rivers and eyes of brown, her face was mature, but still beautiful. "How kind of you to join us."

"How kind of you to invite us into your home, my lady." Jon started, taking a seat next to Millicent after the lady gestured for them to sit.

"It was only appropriate, you and I have much to discuss about that mine up in the ridges, but I get ahead of myself, let us eat, Millicent, would you be so kind as to introduce the squire and his companions your cousins?"

"Of course, my lady." She said, though her attitude and posture looked far more annoyed and deflated than Jon had ever seen her, she gestured at each of her cousins, their ages ranging from near his years to having never seen a winter. "Jon, meet Alys, Jasmine and Luke."

"Is it true you're the strongest knight in all the Gates!?" the boy, Luke, asked, he was youngest between them.

"I… may have told a few stories, forgive me, ser." Millicent said, covering a blush with nervous laughter.

"The lady Millicent is kind, but I am no knight, and there are a few better fighters than me at the Gates, little lord." He said with a smile. Brynden, maybe Roland or Donnel on a good day, Albar or Willas if I'm drunk.

"You'll both be living under the same roof soon enough." His mother said from the head of the table. "He's to squire for my knightly cousin Rowland at the Bloody Gates in a few years."

"Ser Rowland is an honorable man, my lady."

"Aye, he's one of the few knights who's not a complete prick." Mya said, causing gasps of indignation from the two young girls, but a subtle smile from their mother. "Uhm, my lady."

"Given the…quality of the knights the blackfish has sent us, I understand your distaste." Eleanor said while Jon tried not to wince. Their garrison was widely spread, most of the good knights were either joining Robar or sent to more dangerous posts, this close to the Gates, with no threat of a major attack, Brynden had only had the scraps to send.

"Are you enjoying the quail, my lord Domeric?" The younger of the two girls, Jasmine said, her cheeks already reddening. "I helped prepare it."

"It is delicious, my lady, you are a woman of many talents." He said with a charming smile, causing both of the younger girls to blush.

Dinner continued as light and jovially as it started, and Jon found himself enjoying the evening, the food and drinks were finer than what he usually had, Millicent and Eleanor made for pleasant company, the younglings were curious, courteous and reminded fondly of his own siblings and best of all, he was enjoying it with Mya and a newly found friend in Domeric. If the Blackfish hadn't assigned him this task, he would have been back at the Gates eating with the dull knights and envious squires, or knowing him, drilling endlessly in the yard.

"Now, ser." Lady Eleanor said, the kids had been sent to their rooms for the night, and the lady had finally ordered the wine to be brought out. "Ser Tully has put you in charge of rebuilding that mine in the ridges?"

"Aye, my lady." He said, pulling out the letter and handing to her. "We examined it earlier today, and… it seems a taller task than I initially imagined."

"I could always help guide you, ser." She said, after she had read the letter and returned it to him.

"More like take over the venture from under you." Millicent said, though the lady only gave her gave a look.

"Nothing of the sort, ser, you would still be the one in charge, I would simply provide some insight and instruction." She said. "With the roads as dangerous as they are, we've not had many orders for stone in months, and many of the stonemasons and quarrymen have been put out of work. I was half tempted to order some fortifications built so the men might feed their families, I even ordered the knights to train a militia, but working in your mines would also prove a productive use of their talents."

"That would be very kind, my lady." Jon said.

"Perfect, I'll have them escorted to the ridges first thing in the morning and load up that cart of yours with tools and grain to feed them, you just give me the gold the blackfish gave you to fund this."

"You didn't let me finish, my lady." He said, remembering both Tristan and Millicent's words. "Again, that would be very kind, but I'm afraid I would be failing the blackfish if I was to give up the reigns of the operation so quickly."

"He makes a good point my lady." Domeric said. "Not that we're doubting your administrative capacity, but perhaps it would be best if we were to personally procure what we needed."

"And I think I would rather organize any of the caravans myself." Mya said.

"Very well then, I'll send word to tradesmen and farmers to expect you and to be accommodating." She said, though he had seen too many of Lady Catelyn's forced smiles to not recognize the one painted on the Lady's face. "But we still have much to negotiate, first things first, I want those two drunken degenerates out of my village."

"I can bring them to heel, my lady." Jon said, but the woman waved him away. "They're… decent fighters."

"But bad men." She said, "They spend all day drinking and gouging themselves on my dime while doing nothing, I've also had many, many fathers telling me those two are making untoward advances towards their daughters, I simply wish to be rid of them."

"I understand your aversion to them, I don't like them much myself." Jon said. "But your town needs trained fighters to protect it, you know as much if you wanted a militia. If they are gone, the Gates cannot replace them with the garrisons stretched so thin, just give me a chance to tame them."

"Very well." She said, "But, if I get one more complaint about them, I want them gone."

"I will force them out of town personally in that case." Jon said. "Consider them my responsibility."

"And finally." She said, a low glint in her eyes. "I want a militia."

"We need men for the mines, my lady." Domeric said.

"There's enough for both, especially with the harvests ending soon, many will be out of work." she said.

"My lady, this close to the Gates, it's unlikely a significant force of clansmen will come, perhaps a stray man or a small band, but the knights and I can handle them."

"Unlikely but not impossible." She said. "I will pay the cost of training and feeding them, but I want this militia, we've been in sore need of one for years."

The table fell silent as he considered it, the lady had given them autonomy, connections with the local merchants, even a chance to discipline Stewart and Gilbert and restore whatever good faith those oafs had pissed away, and all she was asking for was a militia.

It would give the knights, Tristan included, as well the men at arms something to do, even Jon could help if he found the time, and a few levy spearmen would not be bad to have around.

"Very well." He said.

"Here's to newfound partners, then." She said raising a glass, her lips set in a line, disappointed that she hadn't been able to hold a firmer stake in the mine, but he noted something else in her eyes, a look not borne of dislike. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm afraid I must retire for the night, Millicent can escort you to your rooms when you're finished."

She stood, gave them one final glance and left, though Jon only took a bite of the lemon cake they had brought out.

"You did… really well." Millicent said. "I've never seen her not get exactly what she wants."

"I do not think she was expecting three of us." Domeric said. "We may have overwhelmed her."

"In that case, you would make for a great septons and septas." Millicent said. "She had some unpleasant things to say about your birth and gods, I did not expect her to back off."

"What's the deal with you two?" Mya asked. "Why didn't you tell us your aunt was a lady?"

"It's not something I freely disclose." She said. "She was kind to me when I was young, but then she got it in her head to marry me off to Ser Havlen's son."

"I've met him, he seemed a good man." Jon said.

"Aye, a good man he was, a strong alliance it would have produced, I just… didn't want to marry him, and my aunt does not take no for an answer."

"So you joined the faith." Mya said.

"So I joined the faith." She said. "Not many other options for noble girls who wish to escape marriage."

"It must have taken courage, leaving everything behind." Jon said, a different kind of courage than the one he was used to, perhaps the same kind of courage she questioned him about a year ago.

"Courage, or cowardice." She said, her head held low. "I just wish to be back in the Gates, I've seen it with my eyes that everyone is in one piece."

"We can escort you back when we depart for the Gates for more supplies." Jon said. "But not tomorrow, tomorrow, Mya should ride out to the market and to those fields and find us a steady, stable supply of food, build us a caravan."

"We don't know how many mouths we'll have feed." She said.

"That's the second part, I'll go out to the quarries and look for those out of work quarrymen she was talking about, I'll take a couple back to explore the mines and give us an estimate of their state and how many men they can support, then I'll start dividing men between the mines and militia."

"And me?" Domeric asked. "Am I to handle the drunken knights?

"No, leave them to me." Jon said. "You and sister Millicent will go around town and look the tradesmen we need, any blacksmithing apprentices, cooks from the inns, carpenters."


At the break of dawn, Jon returned to stables, a band of five men behind him, each with many pickaxes in hand, a result of a successful negotiation with one of the quarrymasters. He jumped off Grey and tied her to a post, Stewart and Gilbert's horses had been there at the stables when he left earlier, but he had Mya take them to speak to the farmers, he didn't want those two getting away. Arriving at the same time as them were Domeric and Millicent, they had more men and a couple of women behind them.

"Is that everybody?"

"No, these are only cooks and carpenters, we still need a blacksmith." Domeric said.

"Hmm, I'm going to go handle our knights, wait for me before going to the mine." Jon said, addressing the assembled party and they nodded along.

"Do you need help?" Millicent asked, but he waved her off.

"I can handle them." Jon said. "Good luck finding a smith."

It wasn't a long walk along cobblestone roads from the stables to the inn, the town was being roused awake around him, children, men, woman all of them running along to get to their business, the entire town, save for two drunks who sat at the bar of the inn. They ordered the barman around, while scattered around the room were the men at arms he brought along, also merrily drinking this early in the day and singing along to what the bard was playing.

Time to stem this it in the bud.

"Alright, enough." Jon said, he walked to stand between them and pulled the cups from their hands, slamming them on the bar. The clang caught the attention of everyone in the room, the bard stopped playing his flute, his half-drunk men at arms, nervous bartender and the other patrons who had been breaking their fasts glued their eyes to him. "The lady wants you out of town, either get out or get into shape."

"Fuck off Snow." Gilbert said, picking his drink back up. "It's too early in the day for your nonsense."

"I said get up." Jon said, snatching the drink from his mouth and spilling some of it on him, the man turned to him with angry expression and shoved him roughly. Jon was overjoyed, he was poor administrator, he could pull his weight diplomatically, but he was no grey eminence, when it came to violence, however? He knew violence.

He grabbed Gilbert's head and slammed his nose into the table, then turned in time to catch Stewart's fist, he struck the older man twice, once in the throat and once in the chest, before letting him fall to the ground wheezing.

"Drunks I can tolerate, idiot drunks, sure, violent idiot drunks are a step to far however." Jon said calmly, crossing his arms and looking down at the two of them. Gilbert was back on his knees nursing his nose, he tried crawling away towards the door, but Jon grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him back to lay next to his friend, then stomped his calf, it hurt if his scream was anything to go by, but it wouldn't leave permeant damage. "Where are you going?"

"Away!" the knight said, coughing blood as he did. "Isn't that what you wanted!?"

"No, no, no that time has passed." Jon said, he took a comfortable seat on the bar stool, reveling in the stunned looks he got from around the room, he took one sniff of Stewart's drink, before pouring it on the wheezing Stewart and snapping his finger at the bartender. "Get me some water."

The terrified man nodded then ran off, while Stewart seemed to finally find his words.

"I'll have your head for this bastard! I am a knight!" he screamed, but Jon only took his boot and placed it firmly on the man's mouth, to the man's almost vehement, high-pitched groaning.

"You will not succeed where Lyn Corbray failed, ser, but go cry to the blackfish if you wish, I'm sure he'll care, especially after I tell him what you witless drunks have been up to." Jon said, taking his foot off the man's mouth as Stewart began to spit out any dirt or shit that got in there. "He's placed me in charge here and I have no time for fools, I don't care what you two get up to after dark, but from dusk till dawn you will be in fields drilling militia men.

"Now get out of my sight." He said a second later, he took the cup of water from the terrified barman's hands and took a deep gulp. He wasn't sure how well those two would train anyone, but he knew the villagers would never fear them and the men at arms would never respect them. He heard them shuffle away, but before they could leave, he called out to them again, they turned back, their gazes were equal parts hateful and frightened. "Oh, and by the way, I hear one more story about you two reprobates coming close to anyone's daughter, I'll carve off your cocks myself."

When they opened the door, he saw Millicent and Domeric standing outside, though they had the courtesy to look embarrassed when their eyes met.

"I told you I didn't help with those two." Jon said after they had walked in and took seats next to him.

"The sister was worried, and in truth, so was I." Domeric said, taking a sniff of Gilberts drink before curling his nose and sliding it away. "But it appears we needn't be, you handled those two well."

"Did he?" Millicent asked, crossing her arms. "What if they plot revenge while stewing in their hatred?"

"Vengeance is made of sterner stuff, my lady." Domeric said. "And sometimes, it's better to break a few eggs if it means setting an example."

"Off to find a blacksmith then." Jon said, leaving the mug on the bar and standing to leave, giving one last glance at the rest of the bar where people were still staring at them.

"What are you looking at?" he asked, and everyone turned their heads to look at something else, he then pointed at his men at arms. "And what are you lot doing? Come on, we've work to do."