Jon stood at the top of the Wall, looking out over the winter lands beyond. They looked no different than the lands behind him, but the sole difference they shared was that the host of thousands of wildlings was north of the Wall. Somehow, Jon had to make it so that the host made it south of the Wall, all while dealing with the men of the Night's Watch and the northern lords, both groups that would certainly be angered when they hear that thousands of 'savages' will be given land in the North.
"Ned always had that same look when he was faced with a tough decision." Uncle Benjen joked, coming to stand beside Jon. "Lyanna and Brandon used to joke that he would turn to stone."
"It's not the decision that's tough," Jon answered. "It's going to be convincing the others that this….is needed."
"You mean letting the Wildlings through the Wall," Benjen said. "Aye, I'm not looking forward to discussing it with Thorne and the others."
"Will they agree?" Jon asked.
"Probably not." Benjen sighed. "That's why I need to go back out there."
Jon frowned. "But you just returned."
"I know, but we need proof," Benjen said grimly. "The northern lords will follow Ned if he asks them. But for the southern lords….we need more. We need Robb here with representatives from all seven kingdoms and show him what we've found."
"The realm is going to war." Jon blanched.
"I know," Benjen said. "So soon after another war just finished….but we won't win this battle if we don't have everyone. Don't forget, the First Men didn't win this war without the Children of the Forest. We need dragonglass and every warrior we can get to the Wall."
"Including the wildlings," Jon said, crossing his arms. "Do you think the others will allow the Wildlings to settle among the Gift?"
Benjen shook his head. "Probably not. The Watch has forgotten its purpose, unfortunately. It's up to me to show why we have the Wall."
"That the wildlings aren't our enemy," Jon said. "I don't like the idea of you riding out alone."
Benjen smiled grimly. "I won't be alone."
"You're talking about that half-wight," Jon said. "How do we know that we can trust him? Or it?"
When his uncle had described the man, if such a term could be used, who had helped him first reach the cave of the Three-Eyed Crow then the Wall, Jon had been skeptical. All the questions that he had, such as where the man came from and what has he been doing north of the Wall all this time, could not be answered by either his uncle or his brother. All any of them could tell him was that he used to be a man of the Night's Watch and that he was an ally.
"Coldhands is still a brother of the Night's Watch, Jon," Benjen said. "He's proven time and again that he is our ally."
Jon nodded. "Fine. When do you ride out?"
"Day after next," Benjen answered. "Why?"
"There are mutineers at Craster's Keep," Jon explained. "Hopefully I can get Thorne to trust me if I deal with them."
Benjen nodded. "I can ride with you to Craster's, but that is all."
"Thank you," Jon said. "Dealing with the mutineers will also give me a reason to be north of the Wall where I can deal with Rayder without Thorne criticizing my every move."
"He's never let go of what Ned and Robert did to him. Or what he believes they did to him." Benjen grunted.
"What do you mean?"
"Thorne was a Targaryen loyalist during Robert's Rebellion," Benjen explained. "He chose the Watch over the block. Can't say I blame him, but he's blamed Ned and Robert ever since. Why do you think he's such a bitter block of ice?"
"That's why he hated me?" Jon asked, annoyed. "Because he got sent here by my father after he fought for a mad man twenty years ago?"
Benjen chuckled. "Believe me, he wasn't the most welcoming to me either, but we need him. He's one of the most respected members of the Watch. It's easy working with men and women who share the same goal as you. This won't be so easy." his uncle finished, making a subtle nod to Jon's part in the War of the Five Kings.
"Do you have any tips for dealing with the man?" Jon asked, pulling his cloak a little tighter around him as the wind picked up.
"Stand your ground and let anything he says slide off your shoulder," Benjen advised. "If you let him make you angry, he's won."
Jon nodded, looking out at the lands beyond the Wall, a thought occurred to him. "You know, whenever Robb calls the realm to fight, if Thorne pisses off the wrong man, he may get thrown off the Wall."
Benjen chuckled. "I assume you're talking about the Greatjon. Aye, he'll learn soon enough that he's going to have to get over his hatred eventually, once he knows what we're fighting and what's needed to make sure we win."
"How do you feel about Slynt?" Jon asked curiously.
"I made a bet with Yarwyck that he dies in some stupid manner." Benjen deadpanned. "I've seen a lot of people up here who I know, just be looking at them, that they won't last long. I can guarantee you that he won't make it through the war, or if he reaches it at all."
"Not unless we find him hiding in some storage room." Jon laughed. "He's one of the men accompanying me to Craster's Keep."
"How unlucky for us," Benjen grunted. "At least we'll get to see what he really is when Thorne can't protect him."
"How unfortunate for us," Jon repeated.
Benjen Stark
"You can't be serious!" Slynt cried. "You want to let the savages through the Wall!"
Benjen raised an eyebrow. "Yes," he answered simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "What about that was confusing to you?"
Yarwyck, Qhorin, and Marsh hid their smiles as Slynt floundered like a fish struggling to breathe. Benjen's single question had halted the man's rant before it could even begin. The only person whose expression Benjen couldn't read was Thorne's and Aemon's. Slynt had been the only man to speak since Benjen laid out his entire plan.
"But they're our enemy," Slynt said weakly.
Benjen shrugged. "They've been our enemy, but please think with that pea-sized brain of yours. Why build a wall that's three hundred miles long and several hundred feet high to keep out wildlings?" he asked before adding: "And when you think you have an answer, don't speak."
Yarwyck couldn't stop himself and let out a short bark of laughter before quickly smothering it. Slynt glared down the table before finally falling silent, turning his glare on Benjen. The First Ranger gazed at Thorne, waiting for the Lord Commander to speak and make his opinion known.
"You wish to go beyond the Wall and find proof of the Others," Thorne said. It was not a question.
"I do," Benjen answered. "I know what's out there and I will have the help I need. But the king and the southern lords need to physically see what we're up against."
"And the wildlings?" Thorne continued.
"Those who don't have families can be sent to the other castles along the Wall. We have the supplies, from what Yarwyck has told me, and we can start to send building crews out there as well." Benjen said. "I am well aware of feelings they have for the Watch and we have for them, but if we don't let them through, then we leave thousands of people practically defenseless to be added to the hordes of the dead, where they will become that much harder to kill."
"Snarks and grumpkins," Slynt muttered.
"As someone who has fought the undead, I can assure you that nothing short of total dismemberment can kill them," Benjen said with a slight edge in his voice, glaring at the former gold cloak. "Though, if you doubt my word, you're welcome to ride out with me and help me hunt down these creatures. Is that what you want, Slynt?"
Janos went red with embarrassment before shaking his head quickly. Benjen rolled his eyes and looked back at Thorne.
"Qhorin is more than capable of handling my duties as First Ranger while I'm away. Jon and his companions will deal with the mutineers at Craster's before meeting with the Wildlings." Benjen finished.
"What if the lad is captured?" Marsh asked.
"Jon knows what's at risk," Benjen answered. "He's hoping that the wildlings will take the deal and then we can begin to sort out the finer details."
"And by we, you mean us," Marsh said. Benjen hesitated before shrugging and nodded.
"I do."
The room was quiet as the others waited for Thorne to make his verdict. Marsh, Yarwyck, and Qhorin didn't see a problem with Benjen's request if it actually proved the existence of the living dead and thus the existence of White Walkers. Slynt thought that the request was a fool's folly and that Benjen had gone mad. Aemon didn't have a say on the matter, only present in case he was called upon to give advice.
Thorne was the only one who had yet to give any of his feelings away. His questions had been brief and without feeling. His face was like a stone mask.
"If you do this, you do this alone," Thorne said finally. "I will not send rangers to help you nor will I send them after you should you go missing."
"Understood," Benjen said.
"And you plan to leave the day after next," Thorne said.
"I do," Benjen answered. "I will ride with Jon and the others to Craster's before making my way further north."
"I still don't understand why we're helping the boy," Slynt muttered darkly.
"Slynt, who is the king of the Seven Kingdoms?" Benjen asked curiously.
"The boy Robb Stark," Slynt answered without a second thought to who he was speaking to.
"I'd be careful about referring to him as a boy," Benjen advised with mock politeness. "You see, he's my nephew and he's Jon's brother. And between you and me, if you let the man with the wolf the size of a pony hear you, your frog-like face is likely to be mauled. Though the only person who feels bad about it will be you because Ghost will be saving the rest of us from ever seeing it again."
Slynt blanched, but Benjen wasn't through.
"Furthermore, House Stark has always been and will continue to be the Watch's most ardent supporters. Are you willing to look me in the eye and tell me that the Watch has received more help from the previous four rulers, the Mad King, Robert, Joffrey, and the Targaryens than it has from Robb Stark?"
All eyes were on Slynt, who looked ready to piss himself and shout at the same time. It was an odd look that strangely looked right on the man.
"No." he finally managed.
"No indeed." Benjen snarled, dropping the niceties. "Listen closely, because I won't repeat myself. You are only in this room because you are a leech stuck to our unfortunate Lord Commander. Your opinion holds no weight and means shit to everyone here. Qhorin Halfhand is feared by the wildlings. Yarwyck and Marsh have ensured for decades that this castle remains strong enough to withstand the elements and an attack. You have done nothing but kill children, lick the arse of Ser Alliser, and stand on your own bloated pride. Now you will not speak nor make a single fucking sound for the rest of the meeting. Is that clear?"
Slynt gazed into Benjen's eyes and did not like what he found there. He nodded quickly and scooted a little further away from the man. Benjen just stared in disgust at the man before returning to his original point.
"We are helping Lord Jon because he is a Stark and here to help us," Benjen said.
"Slynt, leave," Thorne said.
The man looked in surprise at the Lord Commander, growing red. "but….I…."
"Leave." Thorne barked.
Slynt nodded quickly and left with the dignity he thought he had. When he was gone, Thorne turned his gaze on Benjen. He did not look overly supportive of Benjen's plan, but he was still respectful of the First Ranger's wishes.
"I'll be plain, First Ranger, I do not like your plan nor do I like your nephew making peace with the Wildlings," Thorne grumbled. "But very rarely have you ever done anything that you did not think was right, a courtesy I will extend to your nephews and brother. As I understand, he was the one who ordered his son to speak with Rayder."
"He was," Benjen confirmed. "He, like myself, believes that there is something worse than wildlings beyond the Wall. I'm unsure of how he learned this information, but Jon will follow his orders regardless of the Watch's feelings."
"What does the king think?" Yarwyck asked.
"I am unsure if King Robb knows what Jon or my brother knows," Benjen admitted. "But if he sees proof, then he will believe."
"As will we all," Thorne said. "You have made your case, First Ranger, and we will indulge you. Though remember what I said: This is your mission alone and we will not look for you if you are presumed dead."
Benjen nodded. "Very well."
Robb Stark
Robb grunted as he parried his opponent, moving to his left as he did. The other fighter turned as well, readying themself before launching themself at the king of Westeros. The two men went back and forth for a few minutes before Robb saw his opening and tripped his opponent, leveling his blade at the man's throat, a tired smile on his face.
"You almost had me, Robar." Robb chuckled, helping his kingsguard up.
"Almost, my lord." the young knight laughed, accepting the king's help. "If I may be so bold, I sometimes forget how great a warrior you are."
Robb grinned before putting a finger to his lips. "Don't tell anyone or else Brienne may get jealous."
"Fear not, my lord, I'll be just fine." the kingsguard commander called. She, the Blackfish, Olyvar, and Greywind was standing in the shadow cast by the wall, staying well out of the heat.
Robb and Robar laughed, making their way over to the others. Olyvar quickly made his way over to the king, helping him out of his armor.
"Thank you, Olyvar," Robb said. "And thank you, Robar, for sparring with me."
"Think nothing of it," Robar said with a slight bow. "Iron sharpens iron, as they say."
"Your Grace, the Grand Maester has requested your presence when you have time," Brienne said. "The messenger did not say what Maester Samwell wanted to speak about, only that it had to do with the North and your brother Jon."
Robb nodded. "Very well. Allow me to bathe and I will meet with the Grand Maester."
True to his word, Robb, dressed in fresh clothes and wet hair, was outside the door to Sam's office in an hour. Behind him were Brienne and Ser Balon. Greywind had elected to stay behind with Margaery and Torrhen, something he did often. For whatever reason, Robb felt that there was an understanding between the wolf and Brienne. Greywind trusted the commander to protect Robb, allowing him to watch over the queen and prince.
It made sense to Robb, but it wasn't an opinion he would ever make public.
Robb knocked on the door, waiting patiently as he heard heavy footsteps behind the door.
"Your grace," Sam said. "Please, come in."
Robb followed the big maester inside where he was surprised to find another man already inside. He was stout with greasy hair and dressed like clansmen in fur and leather. Robb nodded to him.
"Your grace, this is Artos Flint, second son of The Flint," Sam said, introducing the two.
"Artos." Robb greeted.
Artos bowed slightly. "Your grace."
"Artos is helping me translate the books Jon sent me from his holdfast in the North," Sam explained. "They were hidden there by Maester Luwin when he and others left Winterfell."
"The books are written in the runes of the First Men." Artos added.
"I'm assuming these books came from Winterfell then," Robb said, crossing his arms. "I thought the library was destroyed by the Boltons."
"It was," Sam said. "But Jon believes that these books weren't in the library, but in the crypts. And I think I know why."
Robb motioned for Sam to continue.
"These books, or the ones Artos and I have translated, speak of a time before the Andal invasion," Sam said. "Many of them mention the Long Night and the Age of Heroes."
Robb raised an eyebrow. "You sound shocked."
"The Citadel is the center of all knowledge in the known world, your grace, but one of its shortcomings is that it does not hold much knowledge on the Long Night and the Age of Heroes other than what is commonly known," Sam explained. "For instance, one of these books mentions a man called 'The Griffin'. During the Age of Heroes, there is a warrior known as the Winged Knight. To call attention to the Andal Invasion, Artys Arryn defeated the Griffin King atop of the Giant's Lance."
"You mean that they are all connected," Brienne noted. "That there was a House Griffin of some sort that ruled in the Vale during the Age of Heroes and before the Andal Invasion."
Sam nodded. "The maester who found these books was able to, with the help of Artos here, create a rough summary of each book. I am willing to bet that we might get a real, detailed story of what happened during, and perhaps before, the Long Night."
"Sam, while that's all well and good, why did you need to tell me this?" Robb asked.
"One of the books is called The Return." Artos stated bluntly. "It talked about another Long Night happening again."
"Why would it happen again?" Ser Balon asked, who seemed the most skeptical of all this next to Brienne. To them, the Long Night was closer to a ghost story than actual history.
"Bran the Builder raised the Wall for a reason, ser," Sam answered. "For your first question, the Others weren't destroyed, but they retreated to the far, far north where no man nor any living thing could follow."
"Sam, speak plainly. Do you think another Long Night is coming?" Robb said.
The grand maester hesitated. "I am not certain," he admitted. "But I believe that it is a possibility."
"My father sent me a raven that he's having Jon make peace with the wildlings," Robb said. "If their story matches up with yours, then….we'll see where we are. But for the time being, continue to look into this, but this discussion doesn't leave this room."
"Why?" Artos asked.
"Because I still have some southern lords questioning if I can rule in the south," Robb said, sounding more than a little annoyed. "They don't believe in 'snarks' and 'grumpkins'. This," he gestured to the books, "won't be enough."
"We need proof," Sam said.
"Definitive proof. Evidence of the Others that cannot be dismissed." Robb corrected. "Send a raven to Jon or Winterfell. There's obviously something happening in the North that I don't have the full details on."
Both Sam and Artos nodded. Robb knew that the message had gotten to them and went to leave, but Sam stopped him.
"Sire, what….what if the Long Night does happen? What then?"
Robb looked over the shoulder at the large maester. "That's rather definitive proof, don't you think?"
Line Break
"Are you alright?" Margaery asked as Robb pushed his plate away.
"Yes," Robb said quietly, slumping in his chair and resting his head in his hand. "Just thinking about my conversation with Sam."
"What was it about?" Margaery asked, taking a sip of her wine.
Robb glanced at her. "You're going to find out regardless if I tell you or not, won't you."
Margaery gave her husband an amused look and took his hand. "I thought you knew me by now. I always find out."
Robb chuckled and sat up. "Jon sent Sam these books that were written in the language of the First Men. He even had a mountain clansman, the son of Lord Flint, accompany the books to help translate them."
"That was kind of him," Margaery said, knowing how inquisitive the grand maester was. "I'm sure Sam will enjoy the challenge."
"I'm sure he has." Robb agreed. "But the books….Sam is worried about what they might mean."
"What would that be?" Margaery asked.
"Apparently, those books were hidden at Long Lake by Maester Luwin, the old maester of Winterfell who died on the road to Last Hearth," Robb explained. "What's weird is that those books weren't in the library, but Jon said that they might have been in the crypts."
"That does and doesn't make sense," Margaery said, ignoring her own food now. "I thought the Boltons put Winterfell to the torch? So these books were so important that they had to be put somewhere where, even if the castle was destroyed, they wouldn't be harmed."
Robb nodded. "Exactly."
"What's in them? If they're written in the runes of the First Men, then they must be old."
"Older than the Andal invasion." Robb sighed. "Sam and Artos, the clansman, haven't read through all the books, but the ones they have gone through detail the time around the Long Night and the Age of Heroes."
"Is there a lot of information on that time period?" Margaery asked.
"Not according to Sam," Robb answered. "All that's known by the maesters is what is commonly known to everyone else."
"Robb," Margaery said, looking carefully at her husband. "What's in those books that worries you?"
Robb rubbed his jaw. "Sam believes that….with winter coming, that there'll be another Long Night."
Margaery gazed at Robb for a long moment before speaking. "And you're worried because you believe him."
"I shouldn't," Robb said quietly. "I know I shouldn't, but I can't help but believe….every time I think it over in my head, it makes sense. The wildlings, the reason Luwin saved the books, winter coming….but coincidence won't prove anything, nor will gut feelings. That worked during the war, but given the situation, nothing but the definite, inexcusable proof will work."
"You told Sam this," Margaery said.
"I did." Robb nodded. "I told him that he is not to speak about this with anyone other than my father and Jon. I think they might have the same belief as Sam."
"Why's that?"
"My father sent me a raven saying that he's asked Jon to make peace with the wildlings," Robb explained. "He wouldn't have done that without a very good reason."
"Is it perhaps he doesn't have the men?" Margaery asked.
Robb shook his head. "No, he knows that I'd march an army north if needed. This is different."
Margaery wiped her mouth before pushing her plate away. "So what do we do now?"
Robb looked at his wife. "We wait. There's nothing else we can do. If word gets out that I believe the Long Night is coming, how many lords do you think the High Sparrow will rally to have me removed from the throne?"
Margaery thought for a moment. "Perhaps the Long Night is not so….far-fetched."
Robb raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"
"Well, dragons are back in Westeros. Renly was killed with shadow magic. As you say, it's all coincidence, but it's something." Margaery answered easily. "But I think you're right that this is something that should be kept silent."
Robb tapped the table for a second as a thought came to him. "I have an idea."
Margaery chuckled. "You look like you have one."
Robb allowed himself a small smile. Margaery always managed to make any moment, no matter how bad or strange, a little easier to be in. A few words and she was able to coax a smile from even the dourest man.
"The one subject that we've been dancing around is magic," Robb explained. "Sam never brought it up, nor have you or I, but it's there. We just haven't acknowledged it."
"Fair point." Margaery conceded.
"I think I know a place where I might be able to get answers," Robb said slowly. "The Isle of Faces."
"Why do you think you'll find answers there?" Margaery asked.
"I've had….encounters with the Old Gods before," Robb admitted. "The Green Men might be able to help figure all this out. And if not, then we can't say that we haven't tried everything."
"And it's better than waiting for answers from men on the other side of the continent," Margaery added. "When will you leave?"
"Tomorrow," Robb said immediately. "No sense in putting it off. Besides, you're more than capable of handling the King's Council."
Margaery smiled slightly. "I do have some experience with that."
The High Sparrow
He found the disgraced knight sleeping in a barn ten miles north of the city. His nose had been badly reset and his face showed signs of the stress and humiliation he had endured. He was dressed in ill-fitting commoner clothing, a gift of the kind farmer and his wife who had taken the man in exchange for his help in the fields.
Ser Harrison Jass had fallen far indeed.
"Wake up." the High Sparrow ordered.
His voice caused the ex-knight to sit up and immediately reach for a weapon he no longer had. His chest was heaving with adrenaline as he laid eyes on the old man garbed in a rough tunic before him.
"Who are you?" he asked, sounding scared.
The High Sparrow gave the man a warm, friendly smile. "I am just a simple servant of the gods," he answered. "You are Harrison Jass, are you not?"
The man nodded slowly. "I am. What do you want?"
"You have had some trouble with Robb Stark, have you not?" the High Sparrow asked, already knowing the answer. "Would you like to strike back against him?"
Jass hesitated before nodding. "I….I would."
The High Sparrow offered his hand, helping the man to his feet and leading him out of the barn where the rest of the septon's men were waiting. Five Warrior's Sons, garbed in silver armor over hair shirts under rainbow cloaks. Their sword pommels were adorned with a star-shaped crystal. One of the knights held another set of armor while another held a sword and shield. The High Sparrow took the sword, turning towards Jass, who was eyeing the weapon worriedly.
"Kneel," he ordered.
Jass did as he was ordered, still looking very confused. The High Sparrow touched his shoulder with the flat of the blade.
"In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave. In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just. In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the young and innocent. In the name of the Maid, I charge you to protect all women…."
As the High Sparrow said the words, making the man a knight once more, he could see confidence flow once more into Jass. When the High Sparrow was finished, he said:
"Stand, Ser Harrison Jass."
Ser Harrison stood, his back straight and his shoulder's square, the light of religious fervor burning bright in his eyes. He bowed deeply to the High Sparrow.
"Thank you, your holiness."
"I merely rectified a wrong." the High Sparrow replied. "The savage upon the throne had no right to strip you of a gift given by the Seven."
"What shall be done with him?" Ser Harrison asked.
"The man rides for the Isle of Faces to seek advice from the pagan trees." the High Sparrow spat. "He shall not return to the throne."