Jaime couldn't believe his luck. As he sat once more in a cell of Winterfell, waiting for his execution. He was no fool to believe that he was going to be walking out of here alive after the Red Wedding. Stark would want his head for what had happened to his brother, the Young Wolf, even though he had nothing to do with his death. Shivering in the cold, Jaime listened to the groans of his cellmate, Littlefinger. Clearly the north did not agree with either of them and was letting them suffer for their crimes.

When he had arrived and been thrown into his cell, Jaime was surprised to say the least when Littlefinger was also thrown in with him. He had then learned that the young Robert Arryn had passed away, succeeded by Harrold Arryn, a distant kin of Jon Arryn, who had then wed Sansa Stark, binding the Eyrie with Winterfell.

Cersei would not like that for Stark now possessed a force that could put an end to Lannister rule should he turn his attention south. And yet he had not retaliated for Jaime knew when Stark would after he took his head.

He then heard the sound of footsteps echoing off the damp walls and as the torch from his captors lit the dungeon, Jaime found himself staring at Brynden Stark.

The boy smirked when Jaime's eyes met his. "Here we are again, Kingslayer."

"Stark," Jaime growled. "Have you come for my head?"

Brynden Stark gritted his teeth. "Not today, Kingslayer. As much as I would love to take your head we need you alive."

Jaime thought he was dreaming when he heard that he was going to live. Of all the outcomes he predicted his meeting with Brynden Stark would go, this was not one of them. "Why?" He couldn't help but ask.

"There are things out there that will destroy us all if we don't band together. Even if many of my bannermen do not agree with my decision I have no choice but to keep you alive."

What did he mean by that? He was suddenly reminded of his conversation with the Onion Knight before he was shipped off to the north. The wildlings were not the true threat beyond the Wall, he recalled the Onion Knight telling him.

"What of me, Your Grace? Surely I could be of some use to you." Littlefinger interrupted, shivering from the cold.

"Silence worm. Your execution will come soon enough." Stark snapped. "Clegane told me of how you betrayed my father when he tried to claim the Iron Throne for Stannis Baratheon. There is no escape from death for you. The north remembers and soon justice will be served."

"Lies. I tried to help him, begged him to serve as Protector of the Realm, but he refused to listen."

"Your way with words may have served you in the south, but they will not help you in the north. Enjoy your time in the living while you can." Stark then turned his attention over to the gaoler. "Silence him for me."

The gaoler stepped forward, fumbling with his keys before finding the right one and unlocking it. Jaime then heard Littlefinger's cries of resistance before he was knocked out.

"And why is it that you need me alive?" Jaime asked, still wary around the man who would gladly take his head without any hesitation. He would not show fear or weakness in front of the boy, but that did not mean that he was not cautious around him.

Jaime still remembered the last time they were together in a cell and Stark took his sword hand. He had to give the boy credit though for not taking his head immediately upon seeing him instead of speaking with him. They were enemies still and nothing was going to change that.

"To help me negotiate an alliance with the Lannisters," Stark replied, pulling up a stool and sitting down in front of Jaime's cell. "I know that I have a force that rivals yours now with the Eyrie and the Free Folk, but even then I doubt they will be enough to stop them."

Again with this mysterious threat beyond the Wall nonsense. Yet what Stark spoke was true to Jaime. After the War of the Five Kings, the Lannisters had lost thousands of soldiers to the Starks and Baratheons, but with the Tyrells, Freys, and Martells as their allies they could still field an army to hold the kingdoms that were still sworn to the Iron Throne.

"You know the only way to make peace with us is to either bend the knee or take the black," Jaime grinned, enjoying the fact that Stark needed him alive to negotiate with the Iron Throne.

"That will never happen," Stark growled, balling his hands into fists. "The north remembers and we will never submit to a southron king ever again."

"Then you may as well take my head here and now, Stark," Jaime snapped. "My family will never listen to what you have to offer so long as you call yourself king."

"That will soon change." Stark frowned. "I know words will not help me in the south, which is why I will be showing them and you of what is truly out there."

"And what exactly is out there? All of the wildlings are behind the Wall now if I remember correctly." Jaime growled. "There's nothing else out there now unless you would have me believe that Snarks and Grumkins are real."

Stark narrowed his eyes at him. "If you would rather lose your head here and now, tell me Kingslayer and I will gladly take it. I don't have to make an alliance with you, as you well know who supports me, but the cold winds are rising beyond the Wall and soon the Long Night will be upon us."

Jaime snorted in disbelief, almost unable to believe what he had just heard. "The Long Night, that's what this is all about? You are truly mad if you believe that the Others are real."

"Believe me, I wish I was as well, but they are out there and waiting to strike. The longer we all continue to squabble amongst ourselves the stronger our enemy will continue to grow. Why else do you think I made an alliance with the Free Folk and Stannis Baratheon?"

Jaime couldn't help but ponder about that, as he knew what kind of a man Stannis Baratheon was and still found it hard to believe at times that he had made an alliance with Brynden Stark, the King in the North.

"If this enemy you speak of does exist what will you do afterwards when they are dealt with?" Jaime asked, still not believing in all of this nonsense about the Others. Yet his head was still not on a spike so for now he would humor the Stark boy.

Stark smirked. "I think we both know the answer to that." He then stood up, glancing over at Littlefinger's cell before turning his attention back to Jaime. "Think about what I have said and when the Lord Commander returns from his ranging you will see for yourself what is out there. Until then, enjoy your cell, Kingslayer."

Stark then turned and left, leaving Jaime alone once more in the darkness of his cell as the flames from the torch were extinguished.

It was moments like these that made Bran realize how much he missed his family being together. As he dined in the Great Hall with his siblings, mother, uncle Brynden, Val, and little Lyanna. Even Rickon was smiling and laughing again while their wolves played with each other and gnawed at their bones. The only one missing was Jon but he was the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch now and he had his own duties to attend to at the Wall. He just hoped that he would be able to come down and visit them like how uncle Benjen used to.

"Dragons?" Brynden snorted in disbelief while he held little Lyanna in his lap, watching in amusement as she tried to reach over to pet Shadow. "An unlikely tale, uncle."

"I am only the messenger, nephew. Tales of the dragon queen have spread from the east and Lord Manderly thought you should know about her and her dragons."

The mention of dragons piqued Bran's interest though Brynden didn't seem at all interested with the matter. The only thing his brother seemed to be focused on nowadays was the Wall and the Others. Everything else was pushed away which was why it was so rare for Bran to see Brynden dining with the rest of them as he would usually distance himself from them or spend time holding war councils with his bannermen.

"Even if the tales are true she's a continent away from us and under siege. She is nothing more than another doomed pretender like Stannis. Why should I worry about this woman?"

"Because if this enemy you speak of is real then we will need her dragons in the wars to come as fire kills their soldiers as I recall you telling me."

"She's a Targaryen, the daughter of the Mad King who burned grandfather alive and strangled uncle Brandon to death." Brynden snapped, gritting his teeth. "I am already at my limit with sparing the Kingslayer and forming a truce with the Lannisters but the Targaryens are an entirely different matter. The north remembers, uncle, and if you recall, you helped bring down the dynasty that she is trying to restore."

"Whatever happened to yesterday's wars not mattering anymore?" Val interrupted, frowning. "It's like you said, the Others don't care what house you kneelers come from. How is this any different?"

"Besides, I'm certain that she will be grateful and listen to you if you defeat her enemies and lift the siege." Uncle Brynden added.

Bran kept his mouth shut while he listened but he could tell that his brother was not at all pleased with the idea of forming an alliance with a Targaryen. He understood how he felt though since their father went to war against her family after her brother, Prince Rhaegar kidnapped their aunt Lyanna and raped her. There was just too much bad blood between their two houses but if Brynden could push aside his enmities with House Lannister than perhaps he could do the same with the Targaryens.

Brynden ran his hand through his hair before sighing. "Even if I wanted to she's half a world away and there's still the matter with moving those who cannot fight to safety. My place is here in the north, not off chasing some fairy tale and praying that I'm not burned alive when I meet her."

"You place too much burden on yourself," his mother said. "You are not the only Stark in Winterfell and there are others who can help oversee the evacuation."

"I would have thought you would want me to stay," Brynden said in a surprised tone.

"I would want nothing more than for you to be safe, ruling Winterfell and raising your children, and for your siblings to grow up and live happily, but I know now that will not come to pass if this enemy you speak of is out there and coming for us all. Only you, the King in the North and Lord of Winterfell will be able to convince this dragon queen to fight alongside the north."

Brynden was silent for a moment and Bran wondered what was going through his brother's mind. He was grateful that he wasn't in his brother's position as he didn't know how would be able to bear the kinds of responsibilities that Brynden dealt with. If his brother did decide to leave though, Bran knew he would rule in his place as the Stark in Winterfell until he returned.

"It will take more than just mere words to sway her," Brynden said at last. "If Jon is successful with his ranging then maybe I will consider going. For now though I must deal with Littlefinger. His time has come."

"He's the one who betrayed father, isn't he?" Arya interrupted.

"Aye and Clegane can attest to that. He was there in the throne room that day when Littlefinger betrayed him and drew his dagger on him. You all don't need to come see his execution if you don't want to."

"We will go," Arya declared.

"Arya," mother scolded while Brynden chuckled.

"I will as well," Bran added, remembering his father's words the day he saw his father take the head of a deserter of the Night's Watch.

"The blood of the First Men still flows in the veins of the Starks, and we hold to the belief that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword." His father's words echoed in his mind. "If you would take a man's life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then the perhaps the man does not deserve to die."

Brynden nodded in understanding. "So be it."

It may be Brynden swinging the sword but Bran had as much right as he did to witness the man who betrayed their father pay for his crimes.

Castle Black had been too quiet for Melisandre's liking ever since King Stannis and the false king had left, taking their armies with them, leaving only a token force behind to protect Queen Selyse and Princess Shireen, and to help man the Wall. She knew it was only a matter of time before their true enemy descended on the Wall, but for now all she could do was look into her flames and pray that another dawn would come for them.

Two ravens had arrived from Winterfell within a fortnight and it did not take long for rumors to spread amongst the crows of another ranging beyond the Wall. One of the news that had reached the Wall she had already foreseen, but the other one had not been shown to her in the flames. It would seem that even the false king could surprise her with his words and actions.

To capture even one of these creatures that served the one whose name may not be spoken was unheard of, and thus it was no surprise to Melisandre when Jon Snow had summoned her with Devan Seaworth coming to bear the news to her.

"The Lord Commander wishes to see you, my lady," the boy said.

"Then we had best not keep him waiting," Melisandre smiled, causing the boy to blush. The boy was half in love with her, she knew. He fears me, he wants me, and he worships me.

All the same, Devan was not pleased to be here. The lad had taken great pride in serving as a king's squire, and it had wounded him when Stannis commanded him to remain at Castle Black. Like any boy his age, his head was full of dreams of glory; no doubt he had been picturing the prowess he would display at Dragonstone. Though he likely believed he was left behind because of some failure on his part, or of his father, in truth, he was here because Melisandre had asked for him.

Lord Davos would not thank her for it, no more than the boy himself, but Seaworth had suffered enough grief after the loss of his four eldest sons in the battle on the Blackwater.

Making her way out of the room, Melisandre made her way to the armory, where Snow chose to dwell. Her guards escorted her there even though there was no need for it.

Entering Snow's quarters, Melisandre spotted his huge white direwolf curled up by the brazier. It opened its eyes for a moment when it heard her enter before closing them.

Snow sat at his desk with two scrolls curled up with the direwolf visible on them. "I take it you know why you are here, my lady?" He said at last.

"I do. Your brother wants you to go beyond the Wall again." She replied, knowing where this conversation was going.

"The last place we saw the Others and their wights was at Hardhome. I was hoping you might be able to see where they are currently at. I do not want to be ambushed by them again."

"You and your brother may have saved some of the wildlings at Hardhome, but it will make no difference in the end if we are not ready for them." She told him.

"That is why I want you to search for them. My brother is right. The southron lords will need proof they exist."

If only Snow knew how right he was. She had been around the nobles long enough to realize sometimes it took more than just words to convince them of something. Stannis believed the threat beyond the Wall existed for he had seen them in the flames. Just like how he had slowly come to accept her when he had seen her powers for himself.

"Then I will look for them, but the task ahead of you will be dangerous. For they are not the only ones you should be worrying about."

Snow frowned in response. "Daggers in the dark, I remember. I am well aware that my brothers are not pleased with our new alliance with the Free Folk. They dare not lift a finger though so long as my brother rules the north."

"You are a fool to believe that will stop them. All it takes is one false move and they will strike."

"Thank you for your warning, my lady. If that is all you are dismissed."

Melisandre sighed in disappointment, knowing that it was futile to continue. He was just the same as Stannis Baratheon was, back in the beginning. Not to mention that he was the complete opposite of his brother. She still remembered how the false king had looked at her back then but he had never paid her a visit while they were together.

She then took her leave, heading back to her chambers to begin looking into the flames for the servants of darkness.

Not for the first time since returning to Winterfell, Catelyn found herself in the crypts, gazing at Ned's statue, wishing that he were still here. On the opposite side was Robb, the first King in the North since Torrhen Stark bent the knee centuries ago to Aegon the Conqueror. It still pained her to know that Robb was gone, her firstborn, but at least she hadn't lost all of her children. She had Brynden to thank for that.

Her thoughts and worries then went over to her second son. Her Brynden was in the same position that Ned was, thrust to rule in Robb's place, always feeling like he was living in the shadow of his dead brother. She wanted to comfort him, lessen the burden he carried, but her Brynden had distanced himself from her and the rest of the family as of late, holding war councils or throwing himself into the training yard. Even uncle Brynden spoke of how rarely her son had slept after returning from Hardhome.

"He rarely sleeps, Cat," uncle Brynden had told her during one of the few moments they were together. "The only company he keeps with now are his bannermen or his wolf. Not even his queen graces his presence these days."

That had caused Catelyn to seek out Val while wondering how different the wildlings were to the northerners. It was then that she had learned that her good daughter was with child. "He does not need anymore distractions," Val had told her when she had sought her out. "When he needs me he will come and I will be waiting for him."

That had caused Catelyn to realize that Val was truly not like the other ladies of Westeros she was used to being around. She remembered Jeyne, Robb's wife, and how worried she had been for him about the pressure he was under as a king. A woman of the Free Folk indeed, Catelyn noted.

The sound of footsteps echoing off the walls caused her to turn her attention away from Ned's statue, and smiled when she saw that it was Brynden, who was surprised to see her down there. "I thought you would come here."

"I come here sometimes to think or to be alone. I should have known that you would also come down here." Brynden smiled before looking over at Robb's statue then to Ned's. "I miss them," he sighed, closing his eyes.

"I know. We all do," Catelyn told him.

She took that moment to take in her son's appearance. For a moment she thought she was looking at Ned, as he had been when she had come to Winterfell after Robert's Rebellion. Of all the sons she had born Ned, Brynden was the only one who took after him. It pained her when she realized that she had hoped she was speaking to Ned and not to Brynden in a moment of weakness.

"Sometimes I wonder if father would be proud of the man that I have become or ashamed," Brynden muttered, looking up at Ned's statue.

"He would be proud of you along with everything you and Robb have achieved." Catelyn assured him.

"Everything I did and will do have always been for the north and our house," Brynden said, and for a moment Catelyn wondered if he was speaking to her or Ned as he gazed at his statue. The look on his face then hardened and he turned his attention to her. "I do not want you or the others to be at Winterfell when the fighting begins."

"Do you truly believe that the Wall will fall?" The Wall had been standing for centuries and had kept the wildlings out until they were let in.

Brynden looked over at Robb's statue, frowning. "Everything falls eventually."

"You would have us wait out the war on the Iron Islands," Catelyn could not help but voice her displeasure at having to stay on the lands that once belonged to the Ironborn.

"You would rather stay here? Believe me, you would not." Brynden shook his head.

"There is always the Vale," she pointed out.

"Where you will be put in even more danger should the mountain clans decide to grow bold," Brynden countered. "Lord Royce has told me that some of them already have and are even carrying steel. No, the Iron Islands will be the safest place right now."

"And what if the Lannisters decide to retaliate?"

"We broke their fleet at Dragonstone. The only manpower the Lannisters have now are from Highgarden and even then I doubt that Lord Tyrell will stir while his daughter awaits her trial."

Catelyn sighed, knowing there was no point to argue anymore when she realized her son had made up his mind about where they would be going. "I just hope that you know what you are doing."

"So do I," Brynden muttered, turning around. "The worm you once called your brother will be dying today by the way. I trust that you have said your farewell?"

"I have nothing more to say to him." She would be able to rest easily now, knowing that the man who had betrayed Ned would soon be gone from this world. To think that she had placed Ned's fate in his hands caused her to curse herself for believing that the boy she had grown up would never betray her trust.

She could still remember when she had captured Tyrion Lannister, and how he had continued to deny her accusations that he was the one who sent the catspaw after Bran. Mayhaps he was not lying after all and that she and Ned were truly misled by someone she thought she could count on. What a fool she had been.

"Then I will take my leave," Brynden nodded before starting to walk away, but stopped when she called out to him.

"I know it is not my place, but I thought that you should know that your wife is with child," Catelyn told him. She knew that Val would never seek him out, but hopefully at least he would come to her and she would be able to do what she could not for her son.

"I know," Brynden chuckled. "Maester Tybald informed me of the news. Sometimes I forget that she is a woman of the Free Folk and that she is not at all like you or Sansa."

Catelyn smiled. "You should go to her."

"I will," he promised before taking his leave, leaving Catelyn alone once more with Ned and Robb.

If only they could see now how much Brynden had grown. Looking once more at their statues, she said her farewell to her love and son before making her way out of the crypt. Once outside, she noticed that the courtyard had been cleared away for the execution. There would be no hanging or headsman. Brynden would be the one to swing the sword, just like his father and Robb before him.

Many lords and knights had already begun to gather and a light snow had begun to fall over Winterfell. She was used to this kind of snow by now but soon the weather would be harsher once winter came. She spotted the rest of her family and made her way over to them. Their wolves could be seen prowling about, stalking the yard while causing some of the men to grow nervous around them.

Brynden soon arrived, dressed for battle, clad in his Valyrian steel armor, with his surcoat attached to it. Snow continued to fall around them as Hallis Mollen and his guards led Petyr through the press, hands still bound. She noted that several of the men from the Vale sneered and spat at the ground when Petyr passed by them. The northerners merely glared at him as he passed by them.

"You are making a mistake," Petyr cried out, struggling against his captors. "I did not betray your father, the Hound lies."

"I told you before, your words will not work on me. Now kneel, worm. Or must I have them force your head onto the block?"

"Then I demand a trial by combat. I deserve that much at least!"

"No," Brynden scowled, motioning to the guards, and they forced Petyr to kneel, holding him down. "My father was never given the right when he was executed so neither should you."

His page, a young wildling, brought forth the sword, and Brynden unsheathed Ice.

"Petyr Baelish, Lord of Harrenhal," Brynden raised Ice into the air. "Here in sight of gods and men, I judge you guilty of treason. In my own name I condemn you. With my own hand I take your life. Would you speak a final word?"

Before Petyr could reply, Ice crashed down, taking off his head with a single sure stroke. Blood sprayed out across the snow, as the head bounced and rolled across the yard. The guards threw the headless body to the side as Brynden sheathed Ice before making his way over to Val. No words were spoken when Brynden stopped in front of his queen and they made their way back inside.

It's done, Catelyn thought, glancing one more time at Petyr's corpse before following the others back inside.

And so the Mockingbird falls. Sorry if you guys were looking forward to a more gruesome death for him, but Brynden is a Stark and this is how he executes his enemies and traitors.

Not my best chapter but a few sections of this chapter had undergone some rewrites even though I'm still not satisfied with how it turned out. This chapter is just basically setting stuff up for the Winds of Winter anyways.

The next chapter might be delayed by the way though hopefully I will be able to finish it before the end of next week.

Next Chapter: Beneath the Gold, the Bitter Steel