A/N: We're back again! Anne and I have been on a real writing tear lately, so we finished this chapter not long after the last one. Chapter 24 is in the works and should be done relatively soon. Thanks for all your patience with us - we hope you enjoy!

Chapter 23:

Margaery kept one hand on her bow all afternoon. Thorne's threat lingered in the back of her mind - "Surrender by nightfall, or this ends with blood." Was she willing to sacrifice the lives of all the Watchmen in this room? They had come here on their own - they had respected Jon as their leader. They had followed him, and they still loved him. But a voice still nagged at her, asking her how many of them wanted to surrender - to keep their lives, if nothing else. Margaery was a survivor above all else. She truly believed that while standing up for honour and truth was what one should strive for, it wasn't worth a meaningless death. What would be accomplished by perishing here? Alliser certainly wouldn't care. Loras' men would either kill all the treasonous Watchmen or die trying, but in the end… All that would be left was a Wall with no one to defend it, and Highgarden and Winterfell both without their true heirs. All their deaths would have bought was more death. Better to renege on your honour than to die like that.

As she came out of another trance endlessly pacing around the room, she found herself standing in front of Sansa, clutching the rose necklace Jon had given her. The latter was in control of her tears, if only just, and her eyes were still red and puffy from hours of crying. All it took was for Margaery to sit at her side, and Sansa's composure came undone in an instant. The Queen held her friend in a tight hug, and Sansa clutched onto her dress as if for dear life. "I can't…I can't believe…" the words were ragged, shaking gasps.

Margaery stroked her hair back as they held onto each other. "Neither can I."

"I only just got him back - the last piece of my family back," Sansa sobbed. "Mother and Father are dead, Robb is dead, Bran and Rickon… And Gods know where Arya is, or if she's still alive. Jon was all I-" she cut herself off, holding back another sob.

Sometimes Margaery forgot how much Sansa had lost, despite her young age. For all the hardships Margaery had faced, at least she had her brother with her, warm and breathing, her father and grandmother safely in Highgarden… she gave Sansa another squeeze. "I'm so sorry." She sighed. "You've endured far too much." The rose around her neck suddenly felt far too heavy - yet another reminder of the man she had lost. Margaery sniffled, still hugging a trembling Sansa.

After a moment, Sansa seemed to pull herself together, rubbing what tears had managed to escape away and sitting up. "Thank you, Margaery."

"Of course. You probably miss him even more than me," Margaery replied. However impossible that seemed, considering the immense hole in her chest.

Sansa let out a huff. "Have I ever told you how horrible I was to him when we were young?"

Margaery frowned. "I… got the impression you hadn't always been close, but… Jon always spoke of you with affection."

Sansa's face crumpled again for a moment, before she managed to school herself. "He would. He was always a better person than me." She took another shaky breath, still collecting her composure. "When I was a girl, all I wanted was to be just like my mother - like a proper Southron Lady. I did everything I could to be like the girls in my storybooks; I learned how to sew, how to draw, I learned my manners, and how to style my hair, which dresses to wear… And mother… Mother never liked Jon."

"Somewhat understandable, given his origins," Margaery allowed. She briefly wondered what she would do if Jon had come home to her with another woman's child. For all that the situation was impossible - Jon would never risk fathering a bastard - she imagined that she would be devastated. Catelyn had forgiven Lord Eddard, but not the innocent babe. Would Margaery have been able to raise such a child as her own? She couldn't imagine herself being cruel to any child, but, well… she supposed she would never know now.

"She was always cold to Jon," Sansa continued. "Never cruel, but…distant. I suppose I learned by watching her, only…" she sniffled again and dried her cheeks. "I always took it further. I never called him my brother, always had something bad to say about him… I was stupid."

"You were young," Margaery consoled her. "And your mother set a bad example. Clearly Jon never blamed you for it."

"He should have."

"Sansa…" Margaery sighed. "Far be it from me to speak for your brother, but I don't think he would want you to be cruel to yourself about this. Jon was…" Seven hells, it felt so wrong to refer to him in the past tense. "Your brother loved you."

"So did I. I can't remember if I ever told him…" she broke down in tears again, and Margaery pulled her back into a hug.

"I know it's hardly the same, but you still have me, Sansa." Margaery let out a soft sigh, as she let her friend go. "You gave me and my grandmother the truth about Joffrey when it would have been easier and safer for you to maintain a lie. You were perhaps my only friend in all of King's Landing. I…I don't know what I could possibly do to help you right now. But name it, and it's done."

Sansa hesitated. "I know… I mean, you and Jon…" Sighing in frustration, the redhead tugged absentmindedly at her hair. "I know we're not related, but… you've been like a sister to me since King's Landing, and… Would you- Could I…?" she trailed off.

"Of course, Sansa. My sister." Margaery managed a tearful smile. She took the other girl's hands in hers and squeezed. "You're f-"

There was a loud banging on the door, and Margaery's hands flew back to her bow. Before she realized it, she had an arrow nocked and pointed at the handle. "It's time, Ser Loras!" Ser Alliser called through the barred door. "Open the door and the men inside can rejoin their brothers in peace. We'll even set the wolf free north of the Wall, where it belongs. Nobody needs to die tonight." Pyp took a step forward and put a hand on Ghost's flank, as if to protect the giant beast. It was a little endearing.

Margaery traded looks with Loras, and she saw an idea sparking in his eyes. "Your offers are all well and good, Ser Alliser," Loras said, "but I am not the one with whom you need to negotiate."

There was a brief pause on the other side of the door. "What?"

"Putting aside being framed for murdering her late husband, my sister holds the highest rank north of King's Landing," Loras replied, smiling at her. "I will defer to her judgement, and she will speak on our behalf."

Margaery could practically feel Thorne seething on the other side of the door, which brought her a measure of spiteful joy. She lowered her bow as she addressed him, but kept the arrow on the string. "So, Ser Alliser." Her voice was surprisingly steady, even to her own ears. "You've offered amnesty for the Watchmen in this room, and safe passage south for myself, my brother, and his men. There are, however, a few things you have failed to specify."

Another pause. "And what would those be, Miss Beth -"

"You will address me with due deference, Ser," she snapped. "I am Lady Margaery Tyrell."

If boiling blood had a sound, Margaery was reasonably certain she'd be able to hear it now. "Forgive me, my lady," Alliser replied venomously. "What have I failed to specify?"

"You've made no mention of Gilly's fate, nor of the Free Folk the Lord Commander gave land in the Gift," she said. "Nor have you stated any of your intentions in regard to the fate of Sansa Stark or her sworn swords. In truth, Ser Alliser, I am disinclined to take you at your word without further assurances that you intend to keep it."

"I am a Knight of the Realm, my lady, and a man of my word. You dare impugn on my honour?"

"You murdered your Lord Commander less than a day ago, like a thief in the night." Her voice only barely shook as she thought about the man on the table behind her. "Where was your honour then?"

"My actions were for the good of the Night's Watch," he snapped. "And I will not be condescended to by an empty-minded strumpet who would bed any man for a better seat at the table."

Margaery laughed. "I've been called worse things by better men, Ser Alliser. So, seeing as how you have already broken an oath you swore to the Gods themselves, how can I be sure you'll keep your word now?"

There was a short scuffle on the other side of the door, and from the corner of her eyes, she could see Loras motioning for everyone to ready their weapons. This negotiation was never really meant to succeed anyway. Margaery took a few steps back from the door and drew back the string on her bow. Steel sang as swords were drawn, and a handful of Watchmen in the back of the room readied their own arrows in turn. Ghost growled again, his hackles standing on end.

"Get ready. We need only keep them back until Edd arrives with the reinforcements," Margaery ordered. She quickly glanced over the room and saw Podrick ushering Sansa and Gilly to stand at the very back of the room, guarded by Lady Brienne. On the other side of the door, there was the sound of metal hitting wood as the mutineers started to break down the door. Little Sam cried, and she could hear Gilly attempt to soothe him.

"Sister, you're welcome to stand a little further back," Loras suggested as he took up a position at the front of the room.

Margaery considered that for a moment. He had a point in that she didn't have that much experience in battle, but… She hopped onto a table and took aim again. The high ground would give her an advantage, and she'd be able to keep out of the others' way. "Better?"

"Not in the slightest," he chirped back. Another hammer stroke, and more of the door splintered away. "But I don't see how I can stop you." He stood with his back to her, but she could hear the smile in his voice.

They remained silent for the next few hammer strokes, all levity now gone. Then, one of the planks shattered, creating an opening. Margaery repositioned her fingers on the string and prepared to fire as soon as a big enough hole opened up.

A massive crash sounded from the direction of the main gates. Margaery saw Loras exchange a look with a nearby Watchman. "Well I'll be damned," the Watchman muttered. "Dolorous Fuckin' Edd actually made it back."

The man lowered his sword and made his way to the door, sliding back the heavy bolt and preparing to throw it open.

As soon as the Wildlings' cry sounded in the courtyard, Loras gave the signal, and the door swung open. Margaery jumped off the table as her brother rushed out, followed by at least 3 Watchmen. They arrived at the balustrade overlooking the courtyard in time to see a large, red-headed wildling take down one of the mutineers with a single swing. The men all stopped, hesitating. No one wanted to take the next move, possibly due to the giant towering over everyone. Margaery gasped, eyes wide. Without the chaos of battle all around, it was so much easier to take in just what a remarkable creature he truly was.

"Fight, you cowards!" Alliser shouted, striding forwards. For a moment no one reacted, every man waiting to see what the other would do. Suddenly a single crossbow bolt buried itself into the giant's shoulder. It grunted as though it were little more than an annoyance, before turning around, dragging the man from the walkway he'd been standing on, and slamming his head into the wall of the courtyard. He then threw the lifeless corpse at Alliser's feet; the latter had to jump back to avoid colliding with it as it slid across the muddy courtyard floor. There was a long stripe of blood left on the ground in the corpse's wake.

Margaery took aim at Ser Alliser's heart from the balustrade. "I suggest you lay down your weapons," she called out coldly. "I will not be giving you until nightfall."

The vast majority of the mutineers quickly complied. The First Ranger's face was still twisted into a snarl as he turned back to face Edd. "You fucking traitor."

"The only traitors here are the ones that shoved their knives into their Lord Commander's heart," Edd snapped back.

"For thousands of years, the Night's Watch has held Castle Black against the Wildlings."

The enormous Wildling stepped forward. "Until you," he replied.

Ser Alliser raised his sword, but Jon's steward Olly was the one to charge at the Wildling. The man easily shoved him away and into the arms of another wildling; Edd held Alliser back until more of the Free Folk could step up to restrain him. "Throw them in the cells where they belong," Edd spat. Margaery released the tension on her bowstring, and only then did she notice a familiar sigil among the men - one she hadn't seen since Renly's camp. Her stomach turned over. What was Stannis Baratheon doing here?

"Where is the Lord Commander?" a female voice called out. A pale woman dressed in red was climbing the stairs to the balustrade, pushing her way past the men. Her eyes met Margaery's, and the latter had to suppress a shiver. Something about this woman wasn't right.

She put her arrow back in the quiver and unstrung her bow, and Loras took advantage of the pause to step between his sister and the stranger. "Jon Snow is dead. Who are you?"

Her smile somehow made Margaery even more uneasy. "I am Melisandre, priestess to the Lord of Light. I need to see the Lord Commander."

Margaery frowned. "My brother already told you he is dead. And the First Ranger, First Builder and Lord Steward were just arrested. There is no Lord Commander." Some of the Watchmen around her started frowning as well, looking around. There truly was no one in charge of the Watch.

The red woman - Melisandre - seemed undeterred. "There will be if you have faith. Where is his body?"

Body. The word still hit Margaery's heart like a stone. But she had no time to dwell on it as Stannis Baratheon ascended the stairs behind the woman. "Lady Margaery. When I heard of your brother's movements, I had a thought you might be here," he said, stern as always. Then turned to her brother. "Ser Loras," he greeted, though his voice had turned just a touch frostier. "You would do well to listen to Melisandre. The Lord of Light has -"

"You dare show your face here?" Loras hissed. "After all you've done?" He drew his sword again.

"Loras -" Margaery tried to intervene.

"No! He killed Renly!" He turned to the older man. "Your own brother!"

"Who stood against me, despite my superior claim to the throne. I did what was necessary."

"That's enough," Edd stepped in, unintimidated by Loras' glare. "This is Castle Black, not King's Landing. You can sort out your squabbles later." He turned back to the Red Woman. "What do you want with Jon?"

"He is necessary," she said in a serene voice.

"He's dead."

Margaery glanced around at the increasingly befuddled stares from the Watch, the Wildings, and Stannis' own men. "This is not the place to be discussing these things," she cut in. "Pyp, find accommodations for our guests, and make sure they have something to eat. We have plenty of supplies; have Hobb sort it out. Edd, Sam, Loras, Lord Stannis, my lady, please follow me. We'll have a civil discussion in private. With our swords sheathed, brother."

She then preceded the group back into the room that held Jon's body. She quickened her pace and pushed the door open. "Lady Brienne, can I get your promise that you will listen first and act later?"

The blonde warrior frowned. "My lady?"

"Your word, my lady."

She hesitated for a moment as Loras came in, followed closely by Edd and Sam - who went straight to Gilly - before sheathing her sword. "You have it." Not a moment later, Margaery saw the other woman's eyes widen as she took in the other visitors filing in. "You!"

Margaery held up a hand. "We have pressing matters to discuss, which we will address with our words, like adults. I want everyone's word," she glanced around between her brother, Brienne, and Stannis, "that all of you will stay your blades. This is the heart of the Night's Watch, not a place for revenge or political games. No matter how justified it may be, enough blood has been spilled here in recent days."

Loras finally took his hand off his blade, as did Brienne, though neither of them were pleased. Stannis, as ever, seemed not to care. Margaery took up her place at Jon's side again - the wounds on his body were gruesome enough to make her queasy. He was so pale, his skin far too cold. Even so, she let herself take his hand. "What do you want with Jon?" Edd asked again.

"As I told you before," Melisandre replied, "he is necessary. And I know that he is dead," she added before Edd could cut in. "But he does not need to be. I have known a man that came back from the dead. The priest who did it…" she paused. "It should not have been possible. But Westeros can only be conquered with the King in the North."

Stannis gave her a spiteful glare. "There is no King in the North."

"There will be if you have faith," she repeated. Her eyes drifted to Jon's body, still lying out on the table.

Margaery glanced between Melisandre and Jon, whose hand she still held. "What…what are you saying?"

"Do you mean you can bring him back?" Sansa asked, stepping forward. "Is that possible?"

The Red Woman looked between Margaery and her friend, before settling her gaze on Jon. "I have seen it done. The Lord of Light still has plans for Jon Snow. He will guide me in this."

Margaery frowned. "Even if you can bring him back…Jon is not the King. He took the black, he -"

"His wishes are irrelevant," Stannis cut in. "He has a role to play."

"Even if you say his wishes are irrelevant, his vows are not," Margaery countered. "Jon is - was - a man of his word. I cannot imagine a single thing that would get him to renege on his oath."

Loras nodded in agreement. "I already asked him once to take up his brother's seat as King in the North. He flatly refused."

Samwell spoke up. "If any of this is even possible…his vows may not get in the way once he comes back."

"Night gathers, and now my watch begins," Edd chimed in with a nod. "It shall not end until my death. He's already dead…if he came back, I think anyone would agree he'd come back a free man."

Free. Margaery dared not hope. If Jon were a free man…perhaps they could marry. She knew he loved her as much as she loved him; he had told her so before his death. She could still hear his words in her head - "I love you, Margaery Tyrell. But I cannot have you. If things were different… if I wasn't a bastard, and if I hadn't seen the danger out there… I would… I would stay by your side for… as long as you'd have me." She was certain that Jon would have stayed with her, if given the chance. "Be that as it may," she said, pushing back the tears that once again burned her eyes, "it is not my decision. It is not any of our decisions. And we cannot ask Jon." Margaery turned to look at Sansa.

"Me?" the redhead said softly.

"You're the only family he has left," she said softly. "You've known him from infancy. I don't believe anyone can make this decision but you."

Sansa dropped her gaze to her brother, hesitating. "You're sure it can be done?"

"I have seen it done," Melisandre affirmed.

There was steel in Sansa's eyes when she looked back up. "Then tell us what to do."

/*/

The first order of business was clearing the room for Jon's sake, save for Samwell, Margaery, and Sansa - and, of course, Melisandre herself. Despite the Red Woman's assurances of her capability, Margaery insisted on cleaning Jon's body. Sansa volunteered to help, brushing his hair back as her friend took a wet rag and wiped away the dried blood around his wounds. Margaery found herself blinking away tears again as she did, and she prayed it wouldn't be for naught. Ghost slept on the floor all the while, paying no heed to any of them.

As dusk fell into night and they stoked a fire, Melisandre began her chant. She took a small blade to cut a small lock of hair from his head and his beard, tossing it in the fire. "Zyhys oñoso jehikagon Aeksiot epi, se gis hen syndrorro jemagon." The High Valyrian words were strange and musical; they watched the Red Woman pour water over Jon's head as she chanted. "Zyhys perzys stepagon Aeksio Oño jorepi, se morghultas lys qelitsos sikagon." Eventually, she put her hands on his torso. "Hen syndrorro, oños. Hen ñuqir, perzys. Hen morghot, glaeson."

Margaery's heart thundered. She waited for Jon to sit up, for his chest to start rising and falling with breath. She clasped her hands and prayed; Mother, protect him. Maiden, have mercy. Crone, guide him. Stranger…Please give him back to me.

But nothing was happening. She glanced between Sansa and Sam before the Red Woman repeated the final chant. "Hen syndrorro, oños. Hen ñuqir, perzys. Hen morghot, glaeson."

She was holding her breath, eyes glued to Jon. What would she do when he was alive again? Would she run into his arms or collapse at his feet? She waited and watched. He had to come back…he had to. "Hen syndrorro, oños. Hen ñuqir, perzys. Hen morghot, glaeson."

He was still unresponsive. Something in Margaery's chest cracked open. Was this last chance truly nothing? "Hen syndrorro, oños. Hen ñuqir, perzys. Hen morghot, glaeson." The Red Woman let out a soft sigh; "Please."

Samwell was the first to softly step outside. "I don't understand," Melisandre muttered. "It should have worked, I did everything right!" She stared into the fire. "My visions have not changed, I…" Her eyes met Margaery's. "I don't understand." Margaery couldn't hold the woman's gaze, screwing her eyes shut and pressing a hand against her chest as her heart broke all over again.

The Red Woman's heel clicked as she swiftly left the room, leaving only Sansa and Margaery alone with Jon's body. She could hear Sansa's breath hitch, before she left as well. Margaery took Jon's hand one last time, her vision blurring with tears as she placed a kiss on his forehead. "I love you."

The declaration seemed to hang in the air as she went for the door, feeling like she couldn't breathe.

Closing the door as she left felt like one of the hardest things she'd ever done.

/*/

A brief moment passed, silent but the fire crackling in the hearth. The white direwolf picked up his head.

And Jon Snow's eyes shot open as he gasped for air.

/*/

A/N: For the record, we don't agree with Sansa's view of how Catelyn treated Jon. She was young and idolized her mother, so she would have probably refused to see anything Cat did as cruelty, or would have remembered wrong. There were also almost certainly things that happened behind closed doors that Sansa wouldn't have known about.

I (Anne) do think that Cat treated Jon cruelly. She even treated Theon better than him. But this fic isn't about Cat, so it doesn't really matter, I suppose. Mary just hasn't seen the show in a long time and her memory isn't what it used to be :P

Thanks for reading! We'll see you soon for Chapter 24!