Warning: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire, nor this Story.

This story deserves to be available for readers to read. This Story was removed, it deserved to be available, Original Author is Blackwolf2019 as i don't own this story or its work.

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Crypts of wolves

Chapter 1: Crypts of wolves

My Watch has Ended.That was the last thought Jon had after trying to call for his wolf. That call was a plea more than anything. A hope. That Ghost would come with help so he could go fight for his sister. To defend the watch from the Boltons. It was a fancy to think it would have been fine. That he could have fought to save his sister, to avenge his family. It didn't matter at this point,my watch had ended,at this point there should be peace.

Jon got his nightmares instead. He got a trip to the crypts of Winterfell. It was almost the same nightmare that haunted him most of his life.So, this is death? A reminder of the place I never truly belonged.He could see the old ironwood door before him leading to the crypt. Jon didn't want to go down there, not in death. It might have been fine if he were a Stark but that's the one thing the crypts always reminded him of.I'm not a Stark, I never have been. Not even in Death.Though Jon's opinion didn't matter in this nightmare. It never did when the doors opened. Jon didn't want to go in, but he had to. Jon felt his body move towards the crypts. Jon also tasted blood in his mouth.

It felt different to normal though, it was like he was on all fours. Looking down he could see white paws. He was ghost.A Direwolf has more rights to be in this castle the I do.Jon had come to terms with his bastardry but the longing to be a Stark never left, not truly. Walking down the steps brought him closer to the dim lights in front of each Lord and King of winter which lit the crypt. It was unnerving to see it all lit, one normally had to walk with a torch to see the statues of the former Starks of Winterfell. He walked past them all; Brandon the Burner, Brandon the Shipwright, Cregan the old man of the north, Theon the hungry wolf. They would be all there, stretching from Brandon the builder to Grandfather Rickard, Uncle Brandon and Aunt Lyanna. Jon doubted that this nightmare would be kind enough for Father and Robb's statues to be there. It would have saddened him, even though it was their rightful place. Jon tasted blood again. They didn't truly deserve to be there as young as they were.

He walked aimlessly through the crypts looking at each Stark, growing older as he walked when heard them. It was the voices that had always marked the end of his dreams. When life afforded him the luxury of waking up. He could hear the voices of Robb and Father; sounding like they were at a feast. He'd heard it before, as if they were calling him to join but he knew he didn't belong. It went dark, but he kept walking. It was all that was allowed. The voices got louder and louder as he walked closer. Jon couldn't hear what was actually being said though. More voices could be heard, sounding like Bran and Rickon. They were dead too. Maybe this nightmare would end happily, joining his family in death. The voices got louder and angrier, as if whatever talk the voices were having had turned ugly. That went on until he heard her voice.Lady Catelyn. he heard the cold words of Lady Catelyn's words, "I don't need a bastard's absolution, I wish it was you." Then silence. Silence, Darkness and a small drip of blood from his mouth. Even in death Lady Catelyn had the final say.Even in death she would deny my family.Even in death she wished it was me who had died before everyone else. If only she knew I would have died for all of you to live.Jon would have shed a tear at that if he could.

Jon could only keep walking in the dark though. It felt like an age before light returned. Before he walked into a large room in the crypts, torches on all walls with statues at each side and a throne. A throne for the Kings of Winter. Jon wondered if this was an actual part of Winterfell's crypts. Maybe in its depths. That thought had left Jon when he saw that the throne of winter was occupied. The man had a large build and he could see the brown hair and grey eyes. He was a Stark, but not the one he had hoped to see. He was young as well, he hadn't aged. Walking closer he realised it was a Stark he was familiar with, not a one lost to history. Not a one with a weathered statue. It was a face that his father had called a brother.

Jon didn't know if he could speak in this wolf form. He was in the form of Ghost, a wolf that had never howled. He doubted if he could speak but tried, "Uncle Brandon?"

To his surprise he had spoken with his own voice, and looking down he could see he was on two legs. He was himself again. The Stark laughed and clapped his hands, getting up from the winter throne.

"The most recent Uncle Brandon in the Stark line!"

His Uncle's voice, with his northern accent like his own was deeper than Father's, and a lot more joyful. He was full of life for a dead man. He had a big smile, a wolfish one.

"It's good to finally meet you Jon! I've been waiting a long time to meet you! I wish it was under better terms but we can't always get what we want I suppose."

Jon was taken aback at that. He hadn't expected him to say that. It was sincere though. Jon could feel that, "I'm not sure how else we could have met Uncle Brandon."

Brandon laughed, "Aye you're right, we could only ever meet in death. I'd just hoped we'd have gotten to meet with you old and grey, dying happy…"

Brandon stopped for a moment, his face falling into a scowl "Not betrayed by your own men for doing what was right for the North. And the Watch."

For doing what was right.Jon didn't think someone had said that. He had thought he'd have been branded an oath breaker in death. A black bastard who had forsaken his vows. Vindication wasn't something Jon thought death was going to give him.You Know Nothing Jon Snow.

"Why are we here? What is this?" Jon asked

Brandon's smile returned a bit, though his eyes looked serious. He looked like Father in that moment, "As to what this is, well to you this has been your nightmare, the so-called proof that you're not a Stark. For me, and every other Stark of Winterfell, it's a place where long-dead Starks hold a connection to the living. It's a place to impart knowledge. In life and in death with each statue and spirit of the Starks. You usually only see it in your dreams. You know the words of the North?"

"The North remembers." Jon said solemnly. It was a strange comfort to say those words. A constant even in death.

Brandon's smile grew, but the eyes were fixed on him, "Exactly ma boy! The North Remembers! That is why we're here. The North needs reminding and I'm here to help you with that Jon. The North has been bled by Southerners, Freys, Damn Boltons and the others are coming!"

"But I'm dead. How am I to help as a corpse? I failed when I was alive." Jon said sadly/

Brandon laughed, "Aye you are dead for now. But the Old Gods have decided to speak on that matter though. Once this is over, you'll be returned to life, a matter of hours since the act. Not like those creatures that the others make, and not like the ones those red priests make.

He stopped for a moment and looked hard at him, "You'll have the life you had before. The scars from the knives will remain but it'll show your watch has ended. The North needs reminding and you're the son of house Stark to do it Jon."

That was a shock to Jon, he was to be returned to the living. He wasn't sure he wanted to though.

"But Why me though? Why not my brothers instead? Why not Robb? Why not a trueborn Stark?"

Brandon cursed, "Damn Tully bitch!"

The words seemed to echo throughout the crypt, like a battle cry.

Brandon looked at him again, "Jon, you're the only man of house Stark to do it! Robb is too far gone and made too many mistakes in the South. Sansa and Arya are spread to the winds, both forgotten who they are. And Bran and Rickon are too young."

Jon didn't understand how is Uncle could have this much faith in him.

Brandon then gave a sly smirk, "Besides, Bran and Rickon are alive so I think bringing them back from the dead is a bit pointless. I'm surprised you didn't realise that from your wolf dreams."

They were alive.It couldn't be.He had felt their wolves in his dreams as Ghost. He just thought only the wolves had survived.

"Where!?" Jon shouted, it was half a growl.

Brandon's laugh returned, louder than before, "Hahaha, that's it! There's the Wolfblood! That call for life! I knew you weren't ready to join us in death. I'd told Ned as much!"

Jon felt another growl escape from him, "Where!? This is no joke!"

Brandon chuckled, "It isn't no, I'm just happy son that you've got your will to fight! I wouldn't joke with you on the pack Jon. Bran's beyond the wall, sadly having to do a duty that we can't intervene in if the long night to come is to be stopped. Rickon though, he's safe on Skagos, protected by his wolf, a woman of the free folk, and the full might of Skagos. Stannis' former hand had been sent by Manderly to go retrieve him, to put a Stark in Winterfell. The boy's got a savage nature. Another Theon the Hungry Wolf in the making that boy when he becomes a man. A true Prince of Winter!"

Jon could hear the pride in his voice at that. He doubted father of what Rickon would become.

Before Jon could give his thoughts on the matter, his uncle continued.

"But the boy will only be a savage without a Cregan to guide him. And a Brandon the Breaker to beat back the Others. A king of winter. That's what you are. You've got the makings of one Jon. I saw the way you handled the Karstarks. I saw who you've treated with the free folk. Hells, I saw what you did with Mance's child! And your advice to Stannis was more than sound! A damn shame he didn't listen and only marched with the Karstarks, his sell swords and Southerners or he would have won!"

Jon was dumbfounded at the man's confidence him. The man spoke with more certainty than anyone before him. He didn't know who it could be true given the circumstances.

"But I died for all of that, how can I be Cregan come again if all that I did got me killed!" He bellowed into the hall, the noise bouncing off the winter throne and the statues. Jon could taste the blood in his mouth again. He went to wipe his mouth of it instinctively.

Brandon simply shrugged, then put a hand on his shoulder "You're right there. You just didn't trust your instincts Jon. You didn't listen to Ghost. You're a warg and an extension of each other. You'll have to trust that when you get back, Mind when you do come back, you'll feel a lot more wolfish. It'll be natural to follow that instinct and your bond."

Jon didn't know if that was true, he'd had trouble with that gift of his.You know nothing Jon Snow.

"Am I in Ghost now?" Jon asked, feeling he was right.

Brandon grinned, "Aye, most of you is, its why you keep getting spurts of blood out your mouth. Tormund, Val and Edd let him out. He or both of you have been savaging those who murdered you. He's guarding your body from the red witch and the Queen with the rest of the free folk and brothers of the watch. When you get back, you'll be taking some of that wolfishness with you. Give you that instinct to take back the North!"

"You really think I can do it don't you." Jon stated, it was hard to refute that his uncle was lying.

Brandon nodded, his face turning grim like his father, "That I do Jon. It takes a hard man to lead the North. My father was that in most regards, though blinded by Southern ambitions. I was too wild and Ned was too honour bound from living with the Arryn Lords. That honour hurt Robb in the end. Ned inspired loyalty but, in some ways, he forgot that our way is the old way. The North needs Starks of old. Kings in the North and Kings of Winter. And who better to bring that back than a Snow of House Stark who knows the pain of death?"

Father never said much about his siblings, barring Benjen; but he did say Brandon was a charmer. Jon couldn't help but agree with that. He knew how to sway people. Jon nodded at his Uncle,

"Then I'll do it Uncle Brandon. Winter is coming."

Brandon's face lit up again, "I had no doubt that you would Jon! You'll make us all proud!"

"Why are you the one telling me this though?" Jon asked abruptly.

Brandon turned grim again, "Well, I know Robb and Ned would have spoken to you. But to talk with the living in dreams and these unique circumstances, their bones need to be at Winterfell. They do say they are sorry though. That much they told me."

"There Must always be a Stark at Winterfell." Jon said sadly.

"Aye, that there must be. But the more important reason is because I wanted to meet my son before Ashara Dayne. I've wanted to meet you for a long time."

If Jon had had a beating heart in this crypt it had stopped.You know nothing Jon Snow.

"I'm sorry to be blunt there Jon. I always have been."

"Why did he lie?" Jon asked. He hoped it didn't sound like a child.

Brandon gave a sad smile, "Because you're my bastard son. A Snow but a one that would have been a larger threat than Ned's in the eyes of the South. A southerner like Lady Catelyn would have demanded you leave Winterfell as soon as possible, thinking you were a worse threat. Ned knew that and couldn't bare to lose someone else of his blood. He'll always be your Father. I'm just happy to meet you."

Jon should have been angry at the revelation that the one constant in his life had been taken from it. He wasn't Ned Stark's son. At least not by birth. Instead though, he felt a bit of peace. Jon had gotten an honest answer for once. His shoulders seemed to untense for once.

"And my mother?" Jon asked tentatively. He'd heard the rumours.

Brandon's sad smile stayed, "Ask Howland Reed. He'll tell you the full story. Its better to come from him on that matter."

There was a moment of silence between the two in the crypts, oddly peaceful for Jon. He'd rarely gotten that in life.

Brandon ended it with a small smile "Right son, I believe its time for you to return. You've been dead a few hours back there. Its time you returned."

Brandon put his hand out, "Its been a pleasure son. Go be the King of Winter. I look forward to your victories to come."

Jon grabbed it firmly, "I will… and Thank You Father."

He deserves to here that once. Ned may have been my father all my life. But in death he gave me peace.

Brandon's smile grew, "With pleasure! Go give them Hell! Winter is coming."

"Winter is coming"

Those were Jon's first words as his eyes opened, the first howl Ghost had ever given bringing him back to this world.