Jon Stark V

As Jon and his companions were dragged through the wildling camp, their hands bound behind their backs, he couldn't help but feel a heavy sense of deja vu. He remembered all too well the reception Lady Catelyn had given him when he had first arrived at Riverrun. She had immediately ordered for him to be thrown in the dungeons before Robb eventually found and released him. A luxury that Jon and his companions wouldn't have this time.

Now, the young lord and his friends were being led through the camp by a man wearing armor made from actual bones. As soon as Grenn had seen him, the first word he uttered was 'Rattleshirt'. It was a fitting name considering the sound the man made while walking.

How they were caught had been very interesting.

Flashback

Jon and his companions had been riding for a few days since leaving Craster's Keep and parting ways with the rest of their group. Grenn led the way, easily following the multiple tracks that all led in the same direction. The gruff, brown-haired ranger was not as experienced as the Halfhand or Jon's uncle, but he was a serviceable guide through the lands beyond the Wall.

"How exactly do you plan to get a meeting with Mance?" Smalljon asked. "It's not like we can just pop in for a friendly chat."

"I will admit that I am hoping the wildlings will question us before killing us," Jon said. "Then we can have that 'friendly chat' as you put it."

"We look like men of the Night's Watch, Jon." Smalljon pointed out. "The two factions aren't exactly friendly with one another."

"I'm not a man." Alysane countered. Even dressed in black breeches, black ringmail, and a black cloak, the heiress to Bear Island was still unmistakably female.

Jon nodded to the warrior woman. "Even though we look like we belong with the Watch because we have Alysane, that will have to make them question if we're from the Night's Watch or not."

"You're putting your faith in these savages being smart?" Smalljon scoffed. "They have fucking ice for brains."

"You know that there are those in the south who thought the same thing about us northerners," Jon said. "Now who sits on the Iron Throne."

Smalljon opened his mouth to respond, but when nothing came out, he promptly closed it and looked away to hide the red appearing on his face. Jon smiled slightly and turned his attention forward.

"Halt!" a husky, feminine voice demanded. A red-haired girl moved out from behind a tree, one arrow knocked and another two held in her bow hand. Jon found her oddly pretty, even while she aimed an arrow at his throat.

Ghost stepped forward and bared his fangs at the girl, who swung her aim onto the giant white wolf.

"We're looking for Mance Rayder," Jon said immediately, cantering forward as more and more wildling appeared, surrounding the party. "Heel, Ghost."

They were all big, burly men and women dressed from the neck down in thick furs. They carried weapons made of bronze or iron along with shields covered in rawhide. Even though their weapons and armor were inferior to that used by Jon and his companions, he had no doubt that they were all skilled and fierce fighters.

"What do you want from the King-Beyond-the-Wall?" another wildling asked, striding forward. He wore distinctive armor made entirely of assorted bones. He wore a sword at his side and had two dogs on his heels.

"Rattleshirt," Grenn muttered under his breath just loud enough for Jon to hear.

"To talk," Jon said firmly. "About the Long Night and the Others."

Flashback

Jon stopped suddenly when he laid eyes on the towering figure before him. It stood at around fourteen feet in height, covered head to toe in long, shaggy hair with long arms and legs that ended with bare humanoid feet. It carried at least a dozen ivory tusks over one shoulder. Jon wasn't sure if one man could carry a single tusk, even one as big and strong as Grenn or Smalljon.

"Finished staring?" the red-haired wildling snapped, breaking Jon away from his amazement.

"Yes," Jon answered evenly.

"I'd steer clear of them, Southerner." the wildling women continued. "Giants don't much like being stared at. They'll get violent. Squash your pretty face until it's just a red puddle in the snow."

Jon raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Thanks for the advice."

"Shut up." Rattleshirt barked. "We're here."

The tent was easily three times as big as any around it, created with the ivory tusks that Jon had seen along with the hides of some white animal. Smoke rose through the hole in the top and the smell of cooked meat soon filled Jon's nose. Two guards stood on either side of the entrance to the tent, armed with bronze weapons and fur armor. As Jon passed them, they glared.

Inside the tent, smoke pooled slightly at the very top. The far edges of the tent were still in shadow, but Jon's attention instantly went to the two men sitting around the fire. One was large and old while the other was tall and lean with no ears. They both got to their feet as Jon and his friends were pushed inside.

"Who do we have here?" the old man asked gruffly, standing in front of Jon, sizing him up. "A couple of crows who have flown too far from their flock." he glanced past Jon towards Alysane. "Never seen a woman crow before."

"I ain't a crow." Alysane snapped back.

"Are you Mance Rayder?" Jon asked.

The old man raised an eyebrow. "If I am?"

Jon narrowed his eyes. "Are you?"

The old man noticed the edge on Jon's voice and frowned, a hand going to rest on the short sword he wore at his side. As he did that, Jon felt Smalljon step up right behind him. The son of the Greatjon was just as tall and broad as the old man, except he was a good thirty years younger.

"It's alright, Tormund." a voice said from the back of the tent.

Another man stepped into the firelight. He was a little taller than Jon with a broad chest and a muscular build. He had sharp features and eyes that showed some intelligence to Jon's fortune. He wore black ringmail and fur pants under a strange black cloak that looked to have been repaired with red silk.

"I am Mance Rayder," he said. "Who are you if not a crow?"

"I am Jon Stark." Jon said. "This is Smalljon Umber and Alysane Mormont."

Mance looked at the two Jon mentioned and then locked eyes on Grenn. "He's a crow," he said. "I've seen that look before."

"He's our guide," Jon said. "We're not here to fight."

"Then why are you here?" Mance asked curiously.

"The boy said that he wanted to speak about the White Walkers," Rattleshirt grunted from near the entrance to the tent.

Mance raised an eyebrow. "Did he now?"

"My father, Lord Stark, has been made aware of the situation. As has my brother, King Robb, in King's Landing." Jon said. He knew that Mance was a former brother of the Night's Watch and so he knew how much it meant for Robb to know what was happening. "My father has asked me to make peace with your people so that we may fight the Others together."

"How the fuck does he know about them?" the red-haired girl asked.

"My uncle Benjen fought wights and my brother Bran is a greenseer," Jon said. "They told me all that they have seen and my father believes them too or else I wouldn't be here."

"How can we trust this….Stark?" Tormund grunted. "They all look like fucking crows!"

"Just because I look like one doesn't mean I am one, ya twat." Smalljon barked back. "I don't think your mother fucked a bear even though you look like she did."

Jon wanted to glare at Smalljon, but he had to stay where he was and wait to see what the old wildling would do. Jon and his group were unarmed. They were in the middle of a hostile camp and Smalljon is saying that another man's mother had sex with a bear. Only an Umber would say something like that and only an Umber would be bold enough to say it to a man like Tormund.

Surprisingly, the old man grinned fiercely.

"Fair enough." he chuckled.

"The Starks, especially Lord Stark, have a reputation of honor and honesty," Mance said slowly, bringing the conversation back on track. He gazed down at Jon. "I want to meet with Lord Stark personally."

"I can arrange that at the Wall," Jon said easily.

"Mance…." Tormund said but was cut off by a hard look from the King-Beyond-the-Wall.

"You're wondering how we can trust them," Mance said. "Are you willing to prove that you are trustworthy, Jon Stark?"

"I am," Jon said.

"There is a village on the eastern shore called Hardhome," Mance explained. "It is the last safe haven for the free folk from the threats in the north. They have refused to heed my call to follow me because the woman they follow is waiting for some sort of sign."

"You want me to lead them south of the Wall?" Jon asked.

"I do," Mance answered. "Tormund and Ygritte will go as well to keep an eye on you. Your other companions will go with me to the Wall and set up that meeting with Lord Stark."

"How in the blazes do you expect me to make that happen?" Jon asked. "If they won't follow one of their own, why would they follow me?"

Mance shrugged. "Your brother became king. Miracles happen."

Jon gazed at the former brother of the Night's Watch, wondering if he truly wanted to challenge Jon and test his conviction or if he was simply playing with him. The older man's gaze was guarded, but there was something there. Something Jon had only seen once, just before he beheaded Walder Frey for treason.

The King-Beyond-the-Wall was desperate.

"Smalljon, you can send a raven to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea?" Jon asked, looking over his shoulder. "I will need ships."

The big warrior nodded. "Of course."

"Very well then," Jon said, turning back towards Mance. "I will go with your people to Hardhome."

Tyrion Lannister

"What do you mean the High Septon isn't here?" Tyrion asked in annoyance. He was at the base of the steps leading up to the Sept of Baelor accompanied by Ser Davos, a few of his Gold Cloaks, and Ser Rolland Storm of the Kingsguard. The pox-marked knight had been asked personally by the queen to ride with the Lord Hand and the Onion Knight to inquire about the recent silence from the Faith.

Normally, the High Sparrow would have his followers preaching in every square in the city. That had not been the case for a few days now and Tyrion was beginning to fear what the old man might have planned.

"His Holiness has not been present for a few days now." the septon replied worriedly, glancing between Tyrion and the frightening knight. "He and his….Sparrows left the city days ago. Never told a soul why."

Ice water ran down Tyrion's spine. "Did he meet with anyone suspicious? A knight or a lord, perhaps?"

The septon thought for a moment before nodding. "There was one man in here a few days ago, praying to the Warrior. He was not dressed in his armor, mind you, but his sword did stick out to me."

"In what way?" Ser Rolland asked gruffly.

"It had a seven-pointed crystal on the pommel." the septon answered honestly. "I know that's only used by…." he began before the realization hit him. "Oh….oh my."

"You best get back inside, septon, and tell your friends that the king will not be very happy with the Faith," Tyrion said grimly. "If you would like to stay out of the line of fire, I suggest you and others cut off all loyalties to the High Sparrow and his followers."

The septon nodded quickly. "Of course, thank you, my lord," he said before rushing back inside.

"We should return to the Red Keep and let Queen Margaery know about this," Tyrion said, looking up at the two knights.

"Forgive me, but I feel like I am missing something." Ser Davos said. "What about his sword?"

"A seven-pointed crystal on the pommel is only used by members of the Warrior's Sons." Ser Rolland explained grimly. "The strong arm of the Faith Militant."

"The king and I knew that the High Sparrow wanted to revive the blasted group, but it seems that he had begun to do so already." Tyrion sighed. "We will speak about this more with the queen."

Line Break

"Master Reed, have your agents heard anything?" the queen asked.

The Small Council had been hastily assembled after Tyrion had returned to the Red Keep. After he and Ser Rolland had told the others of their discussion with the septon, Tyrion also made it known that Ser Davos and his men were currently sweeping the city, looking for any sign of the Faith Militant.

Tyrion was more than a little annoyed with himself that the Faith Militant had managed to be brought back to life under his watch. He knew that his father would have killed the High Sparrow and all of his companions the moment any notion of the Faith Militant was brought up. Tyrion knew that he should have done the same, but since he had failed to do so, the Crown was now facing a potential uprising without the king being present in the castle.

"I have just received word of a battle on shore of the God's Eye," Reed answered. "They were unable to reach me until after the battle."

"Why is that?" Lord Royce rumbled.

"The large crowd of villagers that the High Sparrow managed to assemble was very watchful, my lord." Master Reed said apologetically. "Anyone who tried to leave was interrogated and usually killed after being declared deserters of the 'true faith'."

"Who did they fight?" Lord Mallister asked curiously before adding. "On the God's Eye?"

"I believe it was the Green Men." the spymaster replied. "It was reasonable to assume that the militant went there to burn the isle. The Green Men are protectors of the trees there."

"How was the septon able to assemble such a host?" Lady Anya asked.

"From what my agents understand, he's been working on this for quite some time," Reed replied. "He planted the seeds of fanaticism during his time as a wandering septon. He then made his move."

"That's why he was so confident," Tyrion muttered to himself. The king and himself thought that when the High Sparrow threatened to bring back the Faith Militant, he would simply whip the commoners into a religious frenzy. Little did they know that he already had been building a die-hard group to act as the foundation of the Faith Militant revival.

Thankfully, the foundation was cracked at the God's Eye by the green men.

"My lords, my lady, there is another reason why the High Sparrow would lead his men to the Isle of Faces." the queen said gravely. "The King is there as well."

"The King?" Lord Royce asked. "For what reason?"

"I was told he was hunting." Lord Tarly grunted.

"As did I." Lord Mallister agreed.

"There is a matter that the king and I have been working on with the Grand Maester." Queen Margaery said simply, nodding towards the Samwell. "The king felt that the insight of the Green Man would prove useful."

"Of course, such an action would have enraged the High Sparrow," Tyrion commented.

"Which is why we sought to keep it quiet." Queen Margaery said. "It seems that it was leaked anyways."

"Did the king partake in the battle?" Lady Anya asked.

"One of my agents did report seeing him after the battle." Master Reed said, causing a feeling of relief to sweep over the council. "As were his protectors, Commander Brienne and Ser Robar."

"I will send a patrol to the isle at once." Lord Royce said with a definitive thump of his fist.

"I would recommend not doing so, my lord." Master Reed replied. "He is no longer at the isle. Nor is he heading back towards the city."

"Then where the blazes is he?" Lord Mallister snapped.

"He's probably gone north to join Thoros and his men," Tyrion said, rubbing his face tiredly. "If the High Sparrow isn't dead, there's a good chance he and his minions are lurking somewhere along the King's Road in the Crownlands. Lord Royce, if you want to help the king, have your men sweep roads and forests."

"And look for what?" Lord Royce challenged.

"The Faith Militant," Tyrion responded. "They wear seven-pointed stars on their bloody clothes."

"The sigil of the Warrior's Sons are rainbows swords on a field of black." Ser Rolland added. "The Lord Hand is right. Even if the king is not coming back now, he will have to eventually. The least we can do is finish what he started."

"Indeed, Ser Rolland." Queen Margaery said, giving Tyrion a thankful look. "Ser Rolland, you and Ser Balon shall take a company and sweep the Crownlands."

"Your grace, perhaps it would be better to give them a more detailed assignment." Lord Mallister commented respectfully. "Ser Balon can take a company and lead them along the King's Road while Ser Rolland follows the river that connects the God's Eye and the Blackwater."

"If we send a third group between them, they should be able to sweep up any remainder of the foul group." Lord Royce added.

"I will lead the third group." Lord Tarly said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Thank you." Queen Margaery said. "Lord Royce, send a message to Thoros. Let him know that the king is in the Riverlands, but do not give away his exact location."

"Of course, your grace." Lord Royce said, bowing his head slightly.

"That will be all, thank you." the queen said, rising from the table.

Line Break

"My lady?" Tyrion asked carefully, poking his head in the door.

The queen looked up from her desk, looking a little surprised to see Tyrion. She was surrounded by a mountain of paperwork and for once since Tyrion had known her, she looked a little overwhelmed. Her hair, usually perfectly braided and brushed, looked frazzled and messy. She also had dark bags under her eyes. Ultimately, she looked stressed, and Tyrion could understand why.

She immediately composed herself and nodded towards the Hand. "Please, come in," she said.

Tyrion closed the door behind him as he waddled in. The queen, like the king, knew Tyrion all too well and had already poured him a glass of wine. When he was seated, the queen clasped her hands in front of her.

"Is there something on your mind?" she asked.

"I will come out and say it, your grace. I am surprised that you and the king are keeping secrets from the council." Tyrion said bluntly, but respectfully.

"I assume you wish to know what that secret is," Margaery said easily.

"I do," Tyrion said.

The queen waited for a minute, gazing at Tyrion. The two had worked closely with one another for a year and had developed total trust for each other. It was the only way they had been able to accomplish all they had.

"I'm sure you are aware of Lady Daenerys' presence in the capitol." she started.

"I am," Tyrion said. "But I have been too busy with my brother and my job to speak with her. Besides, I believe she went directly to you when she arrived. I wondered why she's here."

"She brought us one of two pieces of evidence that points towards a worrying conclusion," Margaery said. "One that is….would be hard to believe by many."

"My lady, I've seen dragons and direwolves," Tyrion said with an amused smile. "It can't be that bad."

Margaery's face showed disbelief in Tyrion's statement. She sighed and smoothed her unwrinkled dress before continuing.

"Lady Targaryen brought us a picture found in a cave on Dragonstone. It was a battle between White Walkers and the Children of the Forest and the First Men." Margaery said.

"Ok," Tyrion said slowly. "What was the other piece of evidence?"

"Books, Tyrion, books sent from Jon," Margaery explained. "Apparently they had been hidden at Long Lake before the castle had been rebuilt."

"Hidden by whom?" Tyrion asked.

"Maester Luwin," Margaery answered. "Jon and Robb believe that the books had been hidden in the crypts in Winterfell rather than held in the library. The logical question is why?"

Tyrion gestured for her to go on.

"The reason why Luwin hid the books in the crypt might be because the crypt is more protected than the library, a theory that proved correct when the Boltons burned Winterfell," Margaery said.

"My lady, this is a compelling story, but can we please move on to why the books were so important?" Tyrion asked.

Margaery sighed. "The books contain information about the Age of Heroes and the Long Night. Information that not even the Citadel has."

Tyrion raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Samwell and the northern clansman who accompanied the books have been pouring over them for the past few weeks. They were written in the runes of the First Men and it has taken some time for the two men to figure out what information is contained within the books." Margaery explained. "And….Samwell believes that the books are pointing to the possibility that the Long Night is coming again."

Tyrion was taking a drink from his chalice as Margaery said those words. He immediately stopped drinking and slowly set the chalice down before steepling his fingers, forcing the sour liquid down his throat.

Tyrion was once again amazed by the political astuteness of Stark and his wife. If they had immediately come out and said that they believe the Long Night is coming again, they would have been ridiculed from Dorne to the Neck and it would have taken years for them to regain any sort of loyalty from the majority of the southern lords. By keeping it secret, they have been allowed to work on it without worrying about how their subjects saw them.

"So a picture and some books," Tyrion said finally. "Is that all the evidence you have?"

Margaery shook her head. "There are a few more circumstances that have brought a little more validity to the claim," she said. "The wildlings coming south, for one."

"But wildlings have attacked the Wall before." Tyrion countered.

"Mance Rayder, the King-Beyond-the-Wall, doesn't want to attack the Wall, not unless he has to," Margaery said. "He wants to bring his people south of the wall to protect them. They are running from something."

"The Others." Tyrion assumed. "How did you get this information?"

"Robb's youngest brother, Rickon, is protected by a wildling woman that Robb had captured in the godswood of Winterfell before the war," Margaery explained. "She told Lord Eddard Mance Rayder's plan."

"Another piece to the puzzle," Tyrion muttered. "Anything else?"

Margaery shook her head. "Unfortunately not," she answered. "That's why Robb went to the Isle of Faces. He wanted to seek guidance from the Green Men."

"Not a bad idea," Tyrion muttered.

"Robb wants more proof before announcing this to the rest of the realm." Margaery continued. "Definitive proof in his words."

Tyrion had a hard time wrapping his head around the idea that White Walkers and their undead army are marching south. Then again, when he and the queen had started this conversation, Tyrion had stated that nothing would surprise him because he had seen dragons and direwolves. If creatures of myth and legend can come back to life, why couldn't the White Walkers?

Again, Robb Stark had amazed him.

"Tyrion," Margaery said, bringing the Hand out of his thoughts. "Jon and Lord Eddard are well aware of the situation in the North and have been working tirelessly to find proof of the threat as well as a peaceful solution with the wildlings. There is not much Robb and myself can do besides wait and find out as much information as possible from every source at our disposal."

"Of course, your grace," Tyrion said. "Once again, the king has amazed me."

"Give it a few more years, my lord. You'll get used to it." Margaery said with a smile. "Please, Tyrion, keep this matter silent. I am not sure if the Faith knows about our involvement, but it would cause another uprising that we simply cannot afford to have."

"My lips are sealed, your grace," Tyrion promised. "You have my word."