44

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Chapter 44 The Wall...and so much else

Jon Targaryen

Jon led the way to Jeor Mormont's solar. It had been Jon's solar before and it held many memories for him. He pushed the old door open and the old memories came rushing back to him. He'd served Jeor Mormont faithfully here once. He'd met with Stannis Baratheon here once. He'd been offered lordship of Winterfell and the North here. Melisandre had thrown herself at him here once. Olly had betrayed him here once.

The solar was the same, even if someone had brought in more chairs. They'd obviously been expecting a big meeting here. The desk and the room looked just like he'd left it.

Except for one thing.

The rest of the world seemed to disappear as he saw his uncle, Aemon Targaryen, sitting there in the solar, patiently waiting for them all.

"Uncle," Jon said with a heartfelt sigh.

The blind old maester turned towards his voice and smiled, "Nephew," Aemon's own voice quivered with emotion, the blind man gestured Jon closer, "Come here," he stretched out his hands towards Jon.

Filled with emotion, Jon neared his many greats Uncle. Once upon a time, the old man had been his staunchest supporter after Sam. The truth of their familial ties, only made him so much dearer to Jon.

Jon drew closer and Aemon's hands touched him. They went up and traced the lines of Jon's face, his uncle seemed deep in thought as he did this. Finally, he lowered is hands and then laughed wholeheartedly.

"Uncle?" Jon asked in confusion.

"Lord Stark is a very lucky man," Aemon chuckled again, "You have my father's look. His long grim face."

Aemon's father, Maeker Targaryen. The anvil of the Redgrass Field. And Jon's many times great grandfather. Jon raised his eyebrows at this, "Really? How so?"

"My father, Maeker, the first of his name, was a stern man. He was not given to laughter or smiling, if you had coloured his hair black, you could have mistaken him for a Stark," Aemon smiled widely, "No one who has never seen my father, would ever take you for a Targaryen. Yes indeed, Lord Stark was very lucky in this. You both were."

Jon was unsure of what to say. Everyone had always said that he had the Stark look. This was the first time that anyone had said he even remotely looked like a Targaryen, albeit one that was long dead and no one but Aemon remembered how he looked.

"Truly?" he asked nonplussed.

Aemon nodded, "Indeed."

The rest of the group had arrived and Mormont cleared his throat from behind Jon.

"I'm sorry to interrupt the reunion, but for we do have pressing matters," he stated apologetically.

Jon nodded in understanding, "Of course."

Aemon tapped his hand and said happily, "We will speak later Jon. Duty first," he finished with an ironic smile, "Sit," he commanded tapping the chair next to him.

Jon smiled back ruefully, even though the old man couldn't see him. He sat where Aemon had gestured, as the rest of the group entered the solar.

Behind Mormont came Uncle Benjen, followed closely by father.

Father looked at the maester with an unsure look in his eyes before clearing his throat and greeting the old man.

"Maester Aemon," he began gravely.

Aemon cocked his head turned sightless eyes upon the Lord of Winterfell, "Lord Stark." The man held out a hand towards him.

Father cautiously, reached out and shook the man's hand. Aemon clutched at father's hand and didn't release it, "Thank you. Thank you, Lord Stark," he uttered, overcome with emotion, "I cannot thank you enough for what you have done."

Father bowed his head uncomfortably, "He was my nephew, and he is my son. I could not have done otherwise."

Aemon smirked, "He has always held you in high regard, my Lord. I can understand why now."

Father flushed with emotion, "Thank you, maester," he replied evenly, controlling his tone.

Aemon released father's hand and father took a seat. In a short manner all were seated. Mormont sat behind his desk, Uncle Benjen on his left and Edd sat at his right. Aemon and Jon were sitting directly opposite the desk with father, Robb and Bran sitting in the seats past Jon.

"If it suits your Grace, I will guard the door," Ser Barristan stated evenly.

Jon looked at him a moment before nodding silently.

Ser Barristan nodded once and then instead of sitting, stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

Jon was still unsure of how Dany would respond to Barristan serving him, but he pushed that away and turned to the Old Bear.

Jeor looked Jon in the eye, "We've been letting the Wildlings through the Wall thanks to this one," he jerked his head towards Edd, who just shrugged in response, he paused as an uncertain expression crossed his face, "and there's something I never expected to hear myself say," he admitted gruffly.

Uncle Benjen and Father nodded agreeing with him.

"They aren't the enemy here," Jon responded reassuringly.

"No. No, I understand that, I ain't arguing that, not after the tales Edd told me of Hardhome," Jeor agreed, "Still a lifetime of hatred I have to deal with, raiders always came to Bear Island..." he shook his head, "It's a lot, your Grace...but I agree with you."

Jon nodded, happy that Mormont was on board with this part of the plan.

"That said," he gestured at Edd again, "According to Edd this wasn't the plan? What happened? And what's happening with the rest of the Kingdoms?" He asked in concern.

Jon sighed, "The spell was overpowered, at least that's what Bran is saying," he cast a look at Bran who simply nodded, "but even with that we are in good shape, the Riverlands, the Vale, the Reach, the Iron Islands and the Westerlands already stand with us."

Mormont raised an eyebrow at the last kingdom, "The Lannisters stand with you?" he sounded incredulous.

"Tyrion is the new Lord of Casterly Rock," Jon explained simply, "He never forgot your words of warning."

Mormont huffed, "I'm glad somebody actually took my words seriously," he stated in satisfaction, "but King Robert still sits in King's Landing," he sighed, "We fought for him once. He was a good man."

"I'm not opposed to peace with him," Jon started gingerly, "But..."

Mormont winced, "He will be opposed to peace. I know him, perhaps not as much as you, Lord Stark," he nodded at father, "but you didn't have to know him that well to know just how much he hated Rhaegar."

Father winced at that admission, Robert Baratheon's rage was a well known fact in the Seven Kingdoms.

"I don't hate him, Lord Commander, a peaceful Seven Kingdoms is in everyone's favor. A war only benefits the Night King," Jon stated, "We need every sword- or warhammer, we can get by our side."

Mormont sat back in his chair, his eyes looked Jon over, sizing him up and Jon met it unflinching, "I'm glad to see I judged you well. And that the crown hasn't gone to your head. Power does strange things to men," he lamented.

"Technically...I don't have an actual crown yet," Jon retorted dryly.

Mormont snorted and then laughed, "Well in any case you're off to a good start."

"Thank you Lord Commander, I haven't forgotten your lessons," he gave him an easy smile, "Now, what else has been happening at the Wall?"

Mormont shrugged, "It's slow going, there are so many Wildlings coming here- and to the other castles we're manning. But it is progressing well."

"There haven't been as many fights as we expected," Uncle Benjen spoke up, "Enough remember to understand just what is at stake now...the Thenns, of all people have been very well behaved...and helpful," he shook his head in disbelief.

Jon was surprised that that warlike and cannibalistic tribe of Free Folk were acting like that, they were a surly bunch at the best of times.

Mormont, Edd and Aemon were nodding along with Benjen.

"...but they have been helping, warriors, Thenns and other clans are all volunteering for the Wall- not joining the Watch, but they are helping patrol the Wall. The Wall hasn't been this well manned since...since centuries past!" Mormont exclaimed in delight.

"Good, good, and the Watch itself?" Jon asked, reassured by their words.

Mormont scowled darkly, "Well enough, now that we've dealt with the damn traitors..."

"It was bloody that first day," Edd spoke up with an angry look on his face.

"...or at least most of them," Mormont eyed Jon with a wolfish grin, "I've kept a couple for your judgment."

Jon gave him a confused look before comprehension dawned on his face, "Thorne and the others?"

Mormont nodded.

Jon kept his face expressionless as he mentally grimaced, he already had too much to deal with without adding Thorne. Not that Thorne mattered that much after everything that had happened since their return. They had more important problems, Thorne wasn't even a real problem in comparison.

Jon changed the subject, "What of the Lords of the North?"

Mormont looked thoughtful for a moment, "We're got the leaders of the Hill Tribes here already. Lord Forrester came with a bunch of Whitehill men that he sentenced to take the Black. Talharts, Flints and Glovers are here as well, they came with a lot of men. And a lot of the more minor lords came as well," he paused and grinned gruffly, "Maege is here as well," he then snorted in amusement, "She been complaining to me, she had to get away from her daughter's disapproving glares," he finished in amusement.

Jon imagined the situation and chuckled, "There are not many that can stand up to her glares," he added mirthfully. There were a long list of Lords that had gone to extremes to stay out of her path.

"Aye, Little Lyanna- the Little Giantsbane. They're calling her..." "As opposed to big Giantsbane they're also saying," Mormont admitted lightly, "The little Giantsbane..." The old Bear scratched at his beard idly, "I knew we had a fierce reputation...I just didn't realise we came that fierce."

"Why are they calling her Giantsbane?" Robb asked quizzically.

"Because she slew a giant wight- a giant that was a wight," Jon explained with a smug smile, "she was two and ten at the time."

Robb and father were stunned, "Two and ten?!" Robb repeated dumbly.

The old Bear preened proudly at their shocked expressions.

"Yes. Two and ten- Lyanna is a fierce girl, not someone to be trifled with lightly," Jon admitted, "...she was also my first supporter."

Jeor's back seemed even straighter now, "Good to hear."

"The Loyalty of House Mormont is unquestionable- and even Jorah, has regained his honor. He is a loyal and honorable man."

Suppressed emotions fought on Jeor's face, before he controlled himself, "As you say, your Grace." he replied gruffly.

Father managed to keep his distaste at the mention of Jorah from his face, though he did shift uncomfortably in his seat at Jon's words.

"And that was not including all the men you brought with you, I saw Umber, Manderly, Karstark and Reed sigils flying," Mormont stated.

"Aye, they've all sworn to me," Jon confirmed to Mormont.

"Heh, I'll bet that's a long story...and the Boltons?" he then asked pointedly.

"Not an issue any more," Robb replied sharply, smiling wolfishly.

Mormont sneered, "Good riddance. Never liked that pale fucker Roose, but what about his lands?"

"For now, my uncle will command Bolton's bannermen till he decides what to do with the Dreadfort and all the former Bolton lands- but we still have more pressing issues at the moment," Jon explained pointedly. He took a deep breath, "Which brings us back to the Others."

Mormont's face turned grave, "We got your message, and I've had men running back and forth across the Wall, we've lost horses in our speed to scout the Wall. It still stands. And we have no idea how the Wights crossed it."

"Neither have we allowed any corpses across the Wall, all bodies are burnt before crossing," Benjen added mystified.

"There is much we do not know of the ability of the Wights, the Night King and how the Wall stops them from crossing," stated Aemon gravely, with a mournful shake of his head.

Jon grimaced and frowned, "I was afraid of that...What does Mance have to say about this? And Tormund?" he asked inquisitively.

"Mance is still north of the Wall, Tormund as well. They're guiding their people down towards the Wall," Edd explained, "They came in the beginning, then crossed back to help their people."

Jon grimaced again, he had been looking forward to hearing Mance's view on how things had changed. And Tormund was always good for a laugh. Which they all dearly needed in the aftermath of the wight's surprise attack. And having his friend back with him was something he wanted as well.

"As far as we know they're still gathering people by the Antler river," Edd finished with a frown, "Least that's what the last batch of Wildlings was saying, they've probably moved further south by now. Not many people left north of the Wall- or at least those willing to move south, always some idiots that don't want to move."

Jon nodded, that was better news. He cast a look at Bran, "Can you see them at all?"

Bran had been silent and contemplative since their arrival, his sight of the Night King was still clouded but maybe he could see Mance and Tormund?

"I will look for them," Bran stated.

Mormont gave him a long look, obviously Edd had explained just what Bran was capable of now. Uncle Benjen was giving him a long look, Jon was unsure what was going through his head. Uncle Benjen had aided Bran and Meera beyond the Wall...and with the changes to Bran...

Jon shook those thoughts away, he'd talk to Uncle Benjen later. For now...

"I will give you time to look for them," he stated evenly, "We will rest now. It has been a long and tiring ride," he looked to Robb and his father, both had signs of weariness on their faces. He turned to the Lord Commander, "Come the evening, gather the Lords of the North and the Free Folk chieftains and leaders. We will all talk and discuss what is to come," he commanded.

Mormont and father nodded at the wisdom of his orders.

"I've had quarters made for all of you in the King's Tower," Mormont stated, "Edd, show them the way."

Edd nodded and stood, he flashed a smile at Jon, "And back to being a lowly servant for me. This way my lords," he finished with exaggerated humility.

Jon snorted, as Mormont glared at Edd while Benjen and Aemon hid smiles at Edd's disingenuous tone, "I'm sure the Lord Commander could find you some latrines to dig instead if you want?" Jon suggested helpfully.

"We always need good latrine diggers," Mormont threatened with a glowering stare at Edd.

Edd just grinned as he gestured towards the door, "Still better than leading the Watch. Probably better than being King as well," he finished with a taunting look at Jon.

Mormont just glared harder at the insolence as Jon laughed heartily. He heard Robb smother a snicker.

"This way my lords," Edd said gesturing towards the door, ignoring Mormont continuing glare. Father rose giving Edd a long look as he passed him, Robb followed, casting an amused glance at Edd.

Maester Aemon laid a hand on Jon's arm as he rose, "Come with me first Jon- we have much to discuss in private."

Jon frowned, unsure of what his uncle wanted to say so privately, "Of course Uncle."

Aemon rose and Jon started to follow. Edd stopped him as Jon passed through the door, the mirth disappearing from his face. The mirth and insolence became concern now, "When you're finished, there is something we need to talk about as well," he whispered quickly.

Jon looked at the worried- no saddened face of his friend with concern, "What?"

Edd waved him away, the concern not leaving his face, "Afterwards, whatever the maester wants is probably more important."

Jon gave his friend one last look before leaving the room and following after Aemon.

What else has happened?

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

He pushed away Edd's strange statement as they reached Aemon's chambers, he wondered just what his uncle wanted to speak off. It was evidently important though, he doubted that Aemon would waste his time...and Jon was feeling tired, despite his excitement to finally be at the Wall and putting his plans to secure the Wall in motion.

The door to Aemon's rooms creaked open as the old man pushed the door open. The room was dark as was the normal for Aemon, he rarely needed light in his own rooms.

"There is a candle on the table Jon, please light it, there's another on by the window," Aemon ordered, "Ser Barristan I will speak with my nephew privately, please step outside and close the door behind you."

Ser Barristan looked to Jon, who nodded. Apparently Ser Barristan's service to Jon was beginning with a lot of door guarding. He left without a word.

Jon quickly lit the candles, there was flint next to each candle. The window brought little light, even with the sun still out. Aemon's private rooms were simple and uncluttered, if dark even with the candles- not that was actually issue with the blind man. A moderately large table sat in the middle, with a couple of chairs there.

Aemon was still standing there waiting for Jon to finish, "Come closer," he said reaching out.

Jon frowned in confusion as he obeyed again.

Aemon's hands clutched at him, running over his shoulders and then his face as he had done in Mormont's solar. They left his face and came to rest on his shoulders, "Forgive an old man his foibles," he said squeezing Jon's shoulders, "I had to reassure myself. At times I feel as if I am in a dream."

His frown disappeared and was replaced with a small heartfelt smile, "I can understand Uncle," he replied, "It is as a dream at times. We had lost so much and now...we have gained so much."

Aemon smiled widely, "That is true, my boy." He patted his shoulders once and then let go. He walked past Jon and to the far wall at the back of the room. There was a large wardrobe there. Instead of opening it he went to the right side of it and started pulling it forward.

Jon stood there frowning in confusion, what was his uncle doing?

"Come pull with me, Jon," Aemon commanded firmly.

He obeyed silently still confused and Aemon didn't try to explain. The wardrobe moved easily with Jon pulling. Aemon stopped him once the back wall behind it was completely exposed.

The old man gingerly went down to his knees and his hands passing along the wall, feeling along, as if he was looking for something. Whatever it was, Aemon quickly found it. It looked like a chink in the wall. His slender old hands clutched at the rock, pulling and straining, grimacing as he worked at the hard stone.

"Help me with this, I was a younger man when I sealed it," Aemon ordered again, straining his hands against the stone.

It was obviously a secret compartment...but more importantly what was his uncle hiding?

Jon knelt down next to him and felt along the stone, his uncle took his hands and guided it to flaky stone.

"Here, break this away, there should be a latch underneath," Aemon explained.

Jon didn't have to work hard, as false stone flaked away, he felt the latch appear underneath his fingers, "I've found the latch."

"Good. Pull it. Hard."

Jon pulled and felt it strain against him before hearing a loud strained click as it unlocked.

"Now, pull here," Aemon placed Jon's hands on the edge of the rock wall, "It should pull back like a door."

Jon nodded, even more intrigued at what his uncle had taken such effort to hide.

This part took more effort as he strained to move the rock. Jon frowned and pulled harder. Finally, bit by bit, it started to move. It creaked loudly open, casting dust into the air.

"Thank you, now move out of the way, Jon," Aemon stated, he seemed excited now.

Jon's confusion wasn't lessened as he stood up and moved back.

His uncle was surprisingly spry for someone his age, as Aemon reached in, almost lying on the floor, to pull out whatever was hidden in the wall.

He pulled out a large, long folded and tightly bound hide, there was something in the bound hide. Aemon slowly began standing up, one hand clutching the dusty old hide to his chest as he pulled himself up with his other hand on the wall.

He shuffled towards the table, his robes dusty and disheveled and gently placed the hide there. It seemed that the hide had been hidden in that wall for a very long time.

Aemon smiled widely, "Come here Jon, you'll like this."

Aemon produced a small knife from somewhere in his robes and cut the knot holding the hide together. He hid the knife again and then slowly unraveled and opened the hide.

Jon frowned, it was a sword. Why was his uncle hiding a sword in the wall? It was ornate, if still quite dusty after all the time in the wall. The crossguard was gold with a large red ruby in the center, the sheathed blade also seemed be slender, almost as if it was made for...

Jon trialed off as he gasped in surprise, "This is Dark Sister!"

Aemon was grinning now, "Yes, it is." He pulled the sword partly out of the sheath, revealing the rippled grey metal of valyrian steel.

"H-how?" Jon managed to ask after a moment.

"Brynden left it with me," he explained simply.

"Brynden?" asked Jon, distracted and looking at the legendary blade lying on the table.

"Bloodraven," Aemon clarified simply.

That made sense, "Ah, so that's what happened. I was going to have Bran ask him where he left it." Jon said offhand. At least he'd been meaning to, things kept coming up.

Aemon's grin faltered, "...what?"

"He's alive beyond the Wall. He's with the Children of the Forest," Jon stated, "He's the one that taught Bran to use his power."

Aemon was stunned, opening and closing his mouth several times, "That's impossible," he finally managed to say, "Brynden was much older than me, he's long dead."

"Actually no, he's sort of become part of the roots of a weirwood tree," Jon frowned, "At least that's how Bran explained it to me." Jon shrugged, "You know technically, first time around, he outlived you by a couple of years..."

Aemon looked amazed and disturbed, before blinking and collecting himself, "We'll talk about that later..." he gestured back at the hide.

Apparently there was something else with Dark Sister in the old hide. Aemon finished completely unraveling the hide. There was a second sword hidden with Dark Sister .

If Jon had been surprised by Dark Sister 's presence, the second sword's presence dumbfounded him. It was an even more important and recognizable blade than Dark Sister .

"My cousin had the last laugh at Bittersteel's expense." Aemon chuckled lightly.

Jon stared at the second sword in disbelief, the red gem in the pommel and characteristic dragon heads at each end of the angled crossguard. "This is...this is Blackfyre. This is Aegon the Conqueror's blade!"

"Brynden also gave this to me for safe keeping, he said I would know who to give it to," Aemon explained. "Brynden stole it and left a fake with Bittersteel. Why do you think the blade disappeared from history? So many Blackfyre Rebellions came after the battle of Redgrass Field- and yet not a single Blackfyre used the famed sword again. Bittersteel had a fake and couldn't do anything about it without revealing how he'd been tricked by his hated half-brother!" Aemon chuckled again, "So Bittersteel kept the fake and then hid it to keep his secret!"

Jon stared incredulous at Aemon before turning back to the table. The two famous blades lay there. Two priceless emblems of House Targaryen, of his House, thought lost. Blackfyre and Dark Sister. Renowned Valyrian blades, treasured heirlooms of House Targaryen. Here in front of him was Blackfyre...the King's blade. A symbol of authority that would straighten men's backs and bend their wills to his own. Dark Sister...the slender blade of Visenya Targaryen, the Rogue Prince and Aemon the Dragonknight. The Warrior's blade and an extension of House Targaryen's authority.

"Brynden gave them to me before his final ranging," Aemon repeated simply.

An obvious question came to Jon, he frowned unsure, "If you've had these for so long..." he trailed off, unwilling to accuse his uncle of anything untoward.

His uncle nodded and frowned understanding Jon's hesitation, "Why didn't I give them to any of Egg's children?" he asked scornfully.

"Uh...yes," Jon stated slowly, unsure of where his uncle's scorn was directed.

"I was an old foolish man," Aemon said cursing himself, "Jon...after Summerhall...I was a fool. An idiot. I should have sent them to King's Landing...but..." Aemon shook his head in grief. "I let my grief overcome me. Years passed, Jaehaerys died and then Aerys became king. Rumors of Aerys reached even here...and I was not impressed. Eventually, I could have sent them to Rhaegar...placing them in your father's hands would have helped him- helped us all, never underestimate the strength of symbols. Particularly such potent ones as these..." Aemon explained with a gesture towards the ancestral swords of House Targaryen, "But something held me back," he shook his head mournfully, "At least now they will be of proper use." He finished with a tired shake of his head, looking older than before. He seemed tired as he pulled out a chair and sat down wearily, exhausted my his tirade and of a burden passed on. "You will be a good king Jon," he stated in complete sureness with a tired sigh.

Jon placed a comforting hand on Aemon's shoulder as he stared at the blades. Jon had lamented the loss of Longclaw, but he wasn't going to take it away from Mormont this time. The Lord Commander needed it at the Wall.

And now he had two valyrian steel swords to choose from...no.

He had Blackfyre.

As much as he might want to use Dark Sister, he had to use Blackfyre. It was the King's blade. It was the Conqueror's blade. And it was a bastard sword just like Longclaw, it would be easier for Jon to use than Dark Sister, no matter how much Aemon the Dragonknight's sword called to his inner child. The Dragonknight had been an old favourite of his growing up...but Jon was the king, and the king had to use the King's blade.

He let go of Aemon's shoulder and stepped closer to the table. He reached out and grasped the hilt of Blackfyre. Lifting it gently, he was reassured by the weight of it. It felt like he was holding Longclaw, the hilt was a little heavier, but not enough to throw off his balance.

He pulled the blade partially out of the scabbard and looked at the rippled steel. He let himself grin in excitement. Here he was holding the King's blade. The legendary blade of Aegon Targaryen, the First of his name.

He took a deep breath and then resheathed the blade. He looked down at the second, slimmer legendary sword on the table.

What am I going to do with Dark Sister?

He couldn't go into battle with two swords strapped to him, that would be a waste of a valyrian steel blade, especially against the Others.

The answer was obvious.

Arya.

But Father- and Lady Stark, would throw a fit if Jon tried to give her the legendary Dark Sister, sword of Visenya Targaryen and Aemon the Dragonknight. And she wasn't going to be seeing any battles till she grew up a bit more. Father and Lady Stark would see to that. No matter what Arya said or did. And even if he gave it to her, it wouldn't be of use to him for a few years. Arya was still much to little to properly wield it now.

Who else would benefit from a valyrian steel sword?

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

"NO! I don't want it!" Edd exclaimed in fear. The look of horror on his face was almost comical.

Jon was taken aback at Edd's vehemence. He'd searched out Edd after leaving his uncle's chambers. In the aftermath of their return, Edd had been given a bigger and private room near the Lord Commander's rooms. And now Jon sat with Edd, who was staring at the legendary valyrian blade with a horror that Edd usually had when dealing with wights.

Jon stared at him, "Fear usually isn't the response one gets when you offer a man a valyrian steel sword...especially not one like this one," he reproached his friend.

The horror transformed into chagrin on Edd's face, "Alright- maybe that was a bit much. It's just...that's Dark Sister! A lot of authority comes with it!" he exclaimed in trepidation, "I'm just happy to be one of the men...I'd rather not be in charge...again," he admitted with a sigh.

Jon looked at his discomforted friend with concern, "Edd. You did well as Lord Commander. I may give you a hard time, but you were a great Lord Commander," he reassured his friend.

Edd grimaced, "The Wall still fell on my Watch. And I was the Last Lord Commander."

"Edd...we were screwed, long before you became Lord Commander. You held it together, even as the world ended around all our ears! Don't start doubting yourself now!" Jon exclaimed, trying to reassure his dear friend.

Edd rocked his jaw side to side before responding, "Maybe."

"You've always trusted me, trust me on this as well," Jon told him confidently with a reassuring smile.

Edd locked eyes with him, before sagging into his chair, "Fine," he looked down at Dark Sister. "Still not taking the sword though."

Jon smile turned into a frown, "Why not?"

"As you say, I may have done a...not bad job of it, still doesn't mean I want that authority," Edd snorted, "Anything happens to the Old Bear, me or Benjen will probably be stuck with the job. If I'm holding Dark Sister when it happens, then I getting the job, no matter how much I think Benjen should have it."

Jon snorted in amusement, "Fine, as you say, future Lord Commander of the Watch," he teased.

"Thank you kindly...your Grace," Edd snorted back at Jon. Edd stood up and grabbed a jug of ale, and two goblets from the dresser behind them.

Edd came back to the small table poured them both a cup. He passed one to Jon.

Jon raised the cup and drank deeply, he finished and looked into the cup, "Glad to see that the ale is as bad as ever," he stated dryly.

Edd laughed, "Still better than Tormund's sour goat's milk."

Jon gave him an exaggerated horrified look, "Everything is better than that," he retorted in an even dryer tone.

They looked at each other for a long moment before dissolving into laughter. After the laughter, they sat in silence for few minutes just enjoying the quiet, before Edd flicked a hand towards Dark Sister, "So who gets the sword then?"

"I was going to give it Arya...after she grew a bit. I was actually only going to loan it to you for a while though..." Jon admitted.

"So I was second choice then? And it was just a loaner? Bloody figures," Edd retorted with mock annoyance, "Never the first in line for anything..." he finished sounding more like the old Dolorous Edd.

"I thought you didn't want the sword?" Jon countered, with an arched eyebrow.

"I don't," Edd confirmed, as he took another sip from his ale and sat back in his chair, "Just complaining to complain, or else people will stop calling me Dolorous Edd."

Jon snickered, "I doubt we're ever going to do that, no matter what happens."

"Huh, alright then," he responded lightly. He paused and looked thoughtful for moment, "You can give the sword to your brother. Or your new shadow," he jerked a thumb at the door, "The Young Wolf with Dark Sister in hand? That'll send a lot of messages. Or Barristan the Bold with Dark Sister? Bet bandits would scurry away at the mere thought of that!" Edd suggested with a contemplative expression on his face.

Jon nodded and then cast a look at Edd, smiling gleefully, "Robb was was my second choice. Barristan was my third choice, but you're staying at the Wall, you would probably need it more."

"So I was your fourth choice? Typical..." Edd said with a disgusted shake of his head.

They held it together for a minute before chuckling together.

"I've missed this. I miss the days we didn't know what was coming," Edd finished with a deep sigh.

Jon nodded in agreement. Looking back those had been better days than he had known then. He took a deep gulp of his ale as a second silence descended upon them.

"You wanted to tell me something? I know I distracted you with the sword..." Jon said breaking the silence.

Edd blinked at him for a moment before quickly draining his ale in one large swig. He put the goblet on the table as his face darkened. The previous mirth gone from him, and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Jon sat up straight in his chair, dismayed by Edd's sudden change, "What happened?" he demanded.

Edd took a deep breath, before exhaling noisily, "In the grand scheme of things of things...it doesn't really matter...except it does matter. To us. To me. To you. To Sam," Edd said morosely.

Edd's words drove him to dark places, as he tried to imagine what had happened to make Edd so despondent.

"It's Gilly," Edd admitted.

His stomach fell into his feet, "She didn't make it to the Wall?" Jon asked aghast and horrified at that possibility. His hands were suddenly clenched into fists as he tried to imagine what Sam would do if Gilly was gone again.

Edd shook his head, "Thankfully she's alive. She and the rest of Crastor's wives and daughters are all here. They killed the bastard and fled here as soon as they returned."

Jon was taken aback, "It's good that he's dead! And that they're safe here!" he exclaimed in response. Jon remembered the first time he had met that perverted bastard. Even the rest of the Free Folk had despised him. But if Gilly was safe then what was the problem?

Edd's expression darkened, "Here and now...that's not actually a good thing."

"Alright...why's that not a good thing?" asked Jon doubtfully, his confusion rising.

Edd scratched his head uncomfortably, and began explaining in a dour tone, "You know she was pregnant when Sam first met her?"

Jon nodded, "Yes..."

"Well she isn't now," Edd spat angrily.

Jon frowned, "She isn't? Little Sam came early?" He asked in concern, he knew enough that early babes were somewhat common at times and the child's life was always at risk when that happened.

Edd gave him a blank expression.

Jon blinked taking a second to think back. To think far back, so many years ago, when he'd first visited Crastor's Keep. To when they all had been so young. It had been almost a year after he'd come to the Wall...

Jon froze as he suddenly comprehended Edd's words. The timing didn't add up...it was far, far too early for little Sam to have come early and live...

The Horror he felt as he realised just what Edd was saying...the horror he had felt at Hardhome with the Night King paled in comparison to this.

"She isn't pregnant now...she never got pregnant this time around," Edd said shaking his head in disbelief.

Jon felt cold as Edd continued speaking.

"We killed little Sam," Edd declared in defeat.

The coldness spread, as he felt sick to his stomach. Of all the changes that they had thought possible, this wasn't one of them. What else had they changed?! Who else had they killed? How many children had they already killed with the spell?

Jon took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, "And Gilly?" he asked, afraid of the answer.

"Seven hells...she didn't take it well when she realised it...but she's strong. She's getting better," Edd stated with a modicum of relief.

Jon just stared, putting down his cup on the table, "Gods...fuck. Just...fuck," he managed to say finally. He blinked twice, "Sam's going to be devastated..."

Edd scratched nervously at his neck, "I'm trying not to think about how Sam's going to react." He stood up, "Come on, she should be about finished with her duties now. She'd probably like to see you."

Jon squirmed in the chair before rising. He sighed deeply, "Yeah, she probably would."

There was no putting this off. Gilly had been a part of their family here at the Wall.

And you always supported family in times of need.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Ser Barristan was still looking a little strained and overwhelmed as they left Edd's room. Walking out of Aemon's room carrying both Blackfyre and Dark Sister had stunned him. Jon had thought for, a moment, that the dauntless Barristan the Bold would keel over in shock, but the man had rallied and stood firm in the face of the sensational surprise.

Edd led the way, as Barristan followed obediently behind, eyes wary. Jon passed him Dark Sister to hold. Blackfyre was already at Jon's belt. It was ungainly to walk with two swords, but it would have to do till he returned to his rooms and figured out what to do with the normal steel sword he'd claimed from Winterfell's armory.

"You will not rest, your Grace?" he asked respectively as Edd turned away from the King's Tower and moved towards the kitchens of Castle Black.

"Rest would be good," he admitted, he sighed, "But duty first, Ser Barristan."

He nodded as a proud smile threatened to overcome his face, "That is wise your Grace. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Jon thought about it and grimaced, "Unfortunately, no."

He took a few moments as they walked, to quickly explain the situation. Disgust and anger flashed on Barristan's face as Jon explained who Crastor had been and all he'd done to Gilly and her sisters. He explained Gilly's relation Sam. He was Sam was then and is now. And then Sam's relation to Jon. Understanding, albeit mixed with a little confusion came after that.

But the knight was very pale as Jon finished with the consequences of the spell that Gilly was forced to live with.

"By the Old Gods and the New..." he uttered, his own horror mirroring Jon's.

Jon didn't say anything in response. He didn't need to.

They remained silent for the rest of the way.

They were near the kitchens when Jon saw her coming out, her duties either finished or she was taking a break.

Edd called out to her. She saw him and managed a small smile. Then she saw Jon and froze for a moment before taking a deep breath and approaching them.

He could see her lip start to tremble, "Jon...uh, your Grace," she started, giving him a better curtsy than one would expect from a member of the Free Folk. Sam had told Jon that Talla had given her a few lessons the few days they had been in Horn Hall.

He held out a hand to her, "To you it's always just going to be Jon."

Hesitantly, she took it and gave him a kind smile, "Thank you, Jon."

He held her hand, squeezing it gently, "I'm...sorry, Gilly. I'm sorry." It was all he could think to say and it was worthless, empty words for an action that could not be undone.

That was more than her control could handle and she grabbed him in a hug, as her face cracked open and tears began to roll down her cheeks.

She held onto him and cried. Losing control of her emotions.

And all he could do was hold her as she sobbed for the son she would never hold again. The son that would never be born...

And it killed Jon to know he had a hand in it.