Autumn of the Wolves

AN:

This was written about a year ago in hopes of venting some frustration with Season 8 of Game of Thrones. I greatly disliked it, which is made clear in the story. It is critical of the surviving Starks. If this is going to make you complain, especially if you like Sansa because it is always Sansa fans who leave reviews to complain about her being seen as less than perfect, please don't bother whining to me about it if you decide to read the story.

A lot of things are glossed over. I wanted to keep it a one shot so went for something like Fire & Blood without limiting dialogue to things maesters were around for.

The show happened as it happened and this takes place years afterward. Originally I was considering something else where I would really tear into the characters, but this is actually me going easy on them.

Dayin is supposed to be the Asian red priestess from the Season 5 episode High Sparrow played by Rila Fukushima. I included her instead of Kinvara because I figure she isn't as high up so would be sent to the north. As for Jon's wife, I went with an OC instead of Val because it's a show story and the show used dumb OCs and I knew she wouldn't really do much so figured why not make my own?

Many say the Autumn of the Wolves began with the rise of the Raven King or the Weirwood Queen, but there is no doubt it ended with the return of the King-Beyond-The-Wall.

Jon Snow's time beyond the Wall is muddled largely by dissenting tales born long before he ever made his return. Though it was known he was brother to the Northern Queen and the Southron King many still feared he would ride south with a wildling army or even an undead one, though most south of the Neck disputed that as northern stupidity. They had barely felt the chill of the Long Night, so why should they fear that when the wildings were enough to give them a fright.

Though it is difficult to know the full truth of what the King-Beyond-The-Wall did in his time in exile some tales are easy to dismiss. There is certainly no truth to the tales of him tearing down the Haunted Forest to build ships and sail to Essos in hopes of finding Drogon and helping raise the dead Daenerys as he himself was raised by a red priestess. It is however known that a red priestess did travel to the far north to join his service, guiding those who looked to the flames after seeing him raised.

Another easily dismissed tale is that of him building an empire in the Land of Always Winter. Some whispered of a secret kingdom he raised there even after he traveled south, but that is little more than the ramblings of men hungry for conspiracy. We do know he traveled there, though how far, for how long or even when is disputed. Most Free Folk tell us it was little more than a brief journey there in the early days when he set out to find them all and unite them, but some say his first son was born there while others say it was only after the troubles that came with the birth of his first daughter that he returned to the Fist of the First Men to raise his daub-and-wattle hall.

Whatever the truth, we know it is there in Snow Hall that he settled until the summer's end which began the Autumn.

It was near noon when King Jon exited his hall to greet a returning Tormund Giantsbane. Dismounting, he embraced the king and clasped his shoulders to grin at him. "I've brought you a present."

"More men to help build that town in Thenn before winter starts?" Jon asked with a smile.

"Maybe," said Tormund.

Jon watched the crimson haired man turn and wave to the others, gasping when he saw a familiar, rotund man making his way toward them. "Sam?" he said in disbelief and shock before closing the distance to embrace his friend.

Others looked on in surprise while Tormund chuckled and watched the king clap Sam's back. "Gods, it's been…" Jon's voice trailed as he pulled away and realized Sam had come alone. "Where's Gilly? Little Sam?"

"They're in the Reach," Sam said with a nod.

"Did Bran send you?" Jon asked stepped back.

Sam frowned and nodded. "Aye. He sent to the Wall."

"For me?"

"For treason," said Sam.

Jon furrowed his brow. "What? Why?"

With a somber smile Sam said simply, "Because I committed treason."

Tormund turned, leaning toward Jon as he whispered, "Maybe we should continue inside."

Jon glanced to the others in the yard and nodded, putting on a smile as he motioned toward the hall. "Come on. There's people you should meet."

Sam followed him to the doors where a golden haired woman in a thick wool dress stood watching them with Ghost at her side. The confusion in her azure eyes grew seeing the albino direwolf walk to Sam and lick his cheek. While Sam chuckled and rubbed Ghost's head, the woman moved to Jon's side where the king brushed a hand through her hair before looking to Sam.

"Sam, this is my wife, Herra. Herra, this is Samwell Tarly."

A small gasp escaped her, recognition in her eyes as she watched Sam bow his head to her. "Queen Herra."

When he raised his head he was surprised to find her moving forward to pull him into a hug. "Jon's told me much of you, Samwell."

"I wish I could say the same," he said returning her hug before separating, "though I'd heard tale of you even in King's Landing."

"Oh? Good things, I hope."

With a nod and laugh Sam told them, "They said the King-Beyond-The-Wall had taken a queen more beautiful than any south of the Wall. Of course they also said he pulled her from the ice in the Lands of Always Winter, so I wasn't sure if it was true."

"More like I plucked him from his tent," she said with a laugh before motioning toward the hall. "Come. The children will want to meet you."

"Children?" Sam whispered, looking to Jon, who smiled and led them into the hall.

There were five in total, and to Sam's surprise each had a direwolf of their own sired by Ghost, though at the time they were only slightly bigger than most wolves while Ghost was as tall as a horse.

Upon seeing the children gathered Sam couldn't help but gasp at the sight, not only at the children of his friend but how the eldest and youngest looked every bit the Targaryen Jon did not.

The eldest was Aemon, named for the maester at the Wall and the hero he played as a child. Even then it was said he was every bit his father only not nearly as sullen. He had shown prowess in the yard early on, proving to be an honorable, intelligent king and fierce warrior, though when Samwell met him he was barely a boy of nine.

It was said even then that Aemon had two shadows, the first and largest being the black furred direwolf named Shadow and the second being his brother, Robbwell, who Jon said was named for two of his eldest brothers. With barely a year separating them, the boys had grown up close enough many might have thought them twins if not for Robb's dark hair and light blue eyes where Aemon was pale blond with blue eyes so dark they neared purple.

After them was Lyanna, named for the mother Jon had never known. She was easily spotted among her siblings, having dark hair with a single streak of silvery gold and light gray eyes. After her came the quiet Rickard, named for the brother who died just beyond Jon's grasp and the man who raised him in secret, which was fitting as the third son had the looks of a Stark with his long face, dark hair and grey eyes. Last was the youngest, Alyra, who shared her eldest brother's Targaryen look. It was also shared somewhat by her wolf, who had pale grey fur and ice blue eyes not unlike her own.

It's known that all Jon's children named their wolves themselves. While Aemon had named his dark eyed beast Shadow, Robbwell's Gust had russet fur and yellow eyes shared by Lyanna's black and brown wolf, Buck. Rickard had named his gray furred wolf Cloud, its eyes as blue as the sky on a clear day, but it was Alyra's wolf Gar which drew Samwell's attention. He would learn she had thought of the name in a dream, saying it was the name of the man in the red river who looked like Aemon.

Once the introductions were over Jon told Ghost to guard the children as they went out to play while he, Sam, Tormund and Herra sat at a table. Jon set his gaze on Sam and wasted no time asking, "What did you mean when you said you committed treason?"

Taking a breath, Sam told Jon, "I say I did only because I did what Bran accused me of. I had no intent of usurping him, but… Jon, Westeros is in ruins."

"What? How?"

"At first it all seemed fine, but almost a year after you left the Iron Islands began raiding the North. When we sent an emissary to ask why they were attacking allies, they sent him back saying they were now an independent kingdom in dispute with another independent kingdom."

"Yara seceded?"

With a nod Sam said, "Barely a month later Dorne did the same. They claimed the council which chose Bran was a farce. Since then there's been nothing but war."

"What about Bran?" Jon said shaking his head. "I thought he was the raven now."

Sam's frown deepened. "Aye, he is. But he's not Bran anymore."

Jon rubbed his forehead asking, "What are you talking about, Sam?"

"He's not Bran. He's not human, not anymore. He's the raven, whatever that is. He had a weirwood tree planted in the hall and carved into a throne and sits in it all day and night. Half the people think him some kind of all seeing, all knowing god. The others think him a monster, but only in whispers spoken in shadows. The people fear not him but birds ever since Dorne sent a cart filled with the corpses of every raven and crow they could find."

"Why do they fear him?" asked Tormund. "You say he's just some boy in a tree chair, so what's to be afraid of?"

Sam looked down, taking a moment before he answered, "Because two months after Dorne declared their independence, every Iron Islander died."

Herra grasped Jon's hand, squeezing it as his brow furrowed. "What?"

"They sent Davos and his men to check," Sam said quietly, his voice trembling slightly. "When he returned he said that from what they could see it was as if every husband rose from his bed in the middle of the night to kill his family and then himself. Those without families had simply killed themselves. In the North they said the ironborn there woke from their sleep and started to kill each other. Every time the one who started attacking them died, another would turn on his comrades and kill them until he died and another started attacking until the last ones put their swords through their throats."

"What about the sea bitch?" Tormund asked. "The one in charge?"

"She was at Torrhen's Square, but in the middle of the night rose to open the cells where she kept the Tallharts before walking to the rampart, opening her throat and falling to her death. Men whisper that Bran made them do it, that he took the minds of men as he does beasts. I believe the only reason he doesn't do the same to the Dornish is because there are too many and they are not bound on islands or in keeps."

Jon sat in silence a moment before shaking his head and looking to Sam. "But why would he send you to the Wall?"

Sam sheepishly looked to the side before returning his gaze to Jon and answering, "Because I know your real name and was going to tell everyone."

"Sam." Jon sighed and rolled his head, sinking back in his chair as Herra frowned and gently rubbed his arm.

"It was Tyrion who told them first," Sam said mournfully. "I think he regretted what he'd done, especially after Arya and Sansa…"

Jon's brow knit as he asked in a whisper, "Are they…?" Sam nodded and Jon slammed his fist into the table and hung his head while Herra reached over to gently rub his shoulder. They heard him take breath before raising his head asking, "How?"

"We only heard about Arya when one of her crewmen was found captured by pirates near the Far Isle," Sam told him. "Bran 'looked into it' and had the man put to death. He said she made it to the islands Aegon, Rhaenys and Viserys but didn't make it much further. The ship lost their wind and a storm killed half her crew and then she killed the other half when they tried to mutiny and turn back. She got through all but a handful before they managed to kill her and turn the ship around, but they were captured by pirates and most of them died on the trek back."

Tears stung Jon's eyes as he held his head. It took him a moment to sit up and ask, "Sansa?"

At that Sam shook his head and sighed. "The North has been broken for years now. After the ironborn died many wanted to demand the Iron Islands go to the North but Bran denied the request. That caused many to want to go to war, but it seems Sansa wanted to wait.

"What happened after that I've heard only tales. One maester said it was suggested she wed one of the lords seeking war to bind them to Bran through marriage, but she refused to wed anyone. I've heard she also favored women in all matters, which upset many lords. Whatever happened Winterfell was taken and she was killed. I've heard she died a dozen different ways so have no way to know which is true."

"Do you know who killed her?" asked Jon.

Sam shook his head. "Each tale says different person took her life, but most agree Robett Glover was key to it happening."

Jon nodded. "And Tyrion?"

"I couldn't say if it was his own choice or the same as the ironborn, but they found him on a spike outside Maegor's Holdfast," Sam said with a far off look, remembering the horrific sight. "He reeked of wine and death. It may have been his own choice to throw himself from the window, though most were told he simply fell after too much wine. Not long after that I received letters asking about you, about what Tyrion told them. I never got the chance to answer before I was thrown in a cell and sentence to death. I begged for mercy for my family and all I'd done for the realm, and Bran gave it to me since I had yet to do the crime he foresaw me committing."

"What happened to your family?" asked Herra.

"Gilly was allowed to return to Horn Hill with Ellie and Little Jon, but Sam is a ward at the Red Keep."

"A prisoner, more like," Tormund said with a grim grunt.

Jon had been staring at the ceiling when he took a breath and looked do Sam, sitting upright as he asked knowingly, "Why did you come here, Sam?"

Sam sat up in his chair as well, meeting Jon's gaze as he answered, "To ask you to claim what is rightfully yours."

"The Iron Throne is gone, Sam," Jon said shaking his head.

"Yet we still have a king. The throne isn't what makes a king."

"Aye, you have to choose your kings, but your people haven't chosen me and I'm a criminal."

"Only to placate dead men," Sam said dismissively.

"Dead men?" Tormund asked arching his brow.

"The Unsullied," Sam explained, "Bran told me they all died a few days after coming ashore in Naath."

"They were mighty," Tormund said with a nod, "the men of Naath must be near as strong as the free folk."

With a laugh Sam said, "It was the butterflies. They hold a disease which only the Naathi are immune to. Bran told me within a week the Unsullied were all sweating blood as the flesh sloughed from their bones."

"And now you want me to take Bran's place as king?" Jon shook his head. "I have a life here. A family."

Sam met Jon's gaze and said quietly, "And mine is still in the south along with countless others who live in fear."

"What do you want me to do, Sam? Kill my brother?"

"Your cousin," Sam said before quickly adding, "though I say there is nothing of the boy you once knew within him. There is only a monster in the body of the boy you knew."

Jon rose from his seat, staring at Sam before leaving the room without a word. Herra frowned at Sam and followed Jon, leaving him with Tormund.

"I can't imagine you expected more than that," Tormund said leaning against the table.

Sam shook his head. "No, but I think we both know what he'll do."

"Been a long time since you knew him," Tormund said with a shrug. "He's not the same man you knew."

"Maybe," Sam said with a nod, "but deep down he'll always be Jon."

AOTWAOTWAOTW

Herra lay in bed with a hand on her pelvis and a smile on her lips feeling the pleasant ache that came after a night of love with her husband. For a moment she found respite in his arms, but knew it would only last until she looked up and saw his sullen face clouded with thought.

When she had her fill she raised her gaze and reached up to stroke Jon's beard. "Don't keep it in, love. Tell me your thoughts." His dark eyes turned on her and an arm slipped around her waist, pulling her against him. Laughing, Herra pressed a hand to his chest and shook her head. "Anymore and I'll have to spend the morning in bed."

"Would that be such an awful thing?" he asked kissing the nape of her neck.

"Jon," she chided through her sigh before rolling away from him. He knew he could have her again if he really wanted, but she wanted to give him the chance to talk, and to some relief he decided to take it.

Sitting up against the back of their bed, Jon asked, "How can he expect me to do what he asks?"

"He clearly respects you," Herra said sitting up, letting the blanket rest on her lap, the chill of the night making her shiver as it hit the sweat of her torso. "He thinks you'll do what you think is right, which is what he wants."

"He's asking me to kill my brother, Herra," Jon said shaking his head. "How can that be right?"

With a sigh she said, "If what he said is true then it may be."

"And if what he said is right then I can't win," Jon snapped, but he saw a somber smile color Herra's lips. "What?"

"You've already made your choice." When he gave her a questioning look she put a hand on his chest, brushing her fingers through the hair that had grown around his scars. "You're already thinking about of how to fight him."

"And it's only made me sure this is pointless," Jon said shaking his head.

"But not wrong," Herra noted. Her hand slid up his neck to caress his cheek while she met his eyes. "There is one who may know a way to keep us safe against what befell the ironborn."

AOTWAOTWAOTW

In a hut not far from Snow Hall the windows remained lit and the hearth crackled through the night. Sat before the hearth with a smile touching her lips was a slender, dark haired woman with olive skin marred only by a brand marking her a prostitute, though she had long abandoned that life for red cloth and flame.

"You may enter, My Lord," she called out as Jon went to knock on her door.

Her smile grew watching it open, though Jon entered shaking his head. "Must you do that every time, Dayin?"

"I know it amuses you," she said knowingly.

"Then I take it you know why I'm here?"

Dayin motioned to the empty chair beside her. "Your friend has brought ill news and a grim request."

Jon took the seat and nodded. "He has."

"That is all I know, though I need not ask the flames to learn that. The men whisper of the south crumbling, of your sisters deaths and your brother the tyrant."

"Others take Tormund and his big mouth," Jon cursed, then laughed and shook his head, "Though I guess they're all dead now."

"And Tormund's mouth remains," she said with a sigh.

After looking to the hearth Jon turned in his seat to her. "Dayin, Sam told me something my brother did… Something which keeps any from going against him. He used his abilities to control men and make them kill their families and themselves. I need a way to protect us."

Dayin watched the flames for a time, listening to it crackle and pop before she turned to Jon frowning. "I may have a way."

AOTWAOTWAOTW

It was morning when Jon returned to Snow Hall and found his wife and children sat at the high table with Tormund, Sam and a few others. As he strode toward the table gasps went around the hall as those who looked at Jon saw he now had an odd mark on his forehead.

Dayin followed him, taking her seat at the end of the table where a few of the free folk bowed their heads to her as they might Jon or Herra. Jon took his seat beside Herra, who saw the mark was a black triangle with each line curving like a triskelion to form the circle around it. At the center was a mark Dayin told him would keep their minds safe, some sigil from the magic of Yi Ti.

Before she could ask him about it Jon leaned forward, staring at Sam as he asked, "Do you swear on your children that all you said is true?"

Sam looked from the mark to Jon's steely eyes before nodding. "I do. I swear on all I love I told you only the truth of what I know or suspect."

"What you said of Bran, what he can do-"

"It's true," Sam nodded. "It has to be. We know he can control animals, and how else do you explain the Iron Islands?"

Jon sank back in his chair and turned to meet Herra's gaze. She squeezed his hand asking, "What is it, love? What's on you?"

His gaze settled on Dayin, who watched him lean forward to kiss Herra's forehead before rising from his seat and pounding a mug against the table. Once all in the hall turned to him, Jon set the cup down.

"By now most of you will have heard the south is broken and their king rules with fear." Jon cast a glance to Tormund, who looked away sheepishly. "You may have heard tale of how he slaughtered the ironborn from his throne and dismissed it as southron lies, but I believe the man who brought this tale beyond all others, and for those who seek her guidance, Dayin has said her flames have told her the truth of all he says.

"So now I share another truth with all of you, one I hoped never to need to tell. To those of the south I am the son of an old prince who should have been king. To many of them it is my right to rule their lands, and though I do not care to have it I think it only a matter of time before their king fears I do and turns his gaze upon us.

"I will not let some southron king tear us apart after we have come together, even if he was once my brother!" Jon's hand was clasped around the edge of the table so firmly those who saw thought it may snap before he finally took a breath and pulled his hand away. "I will call all the tribes here to meet with us and decide if we will travel south again as I fear we must, but until then to keep the Raven King from our minds I must ask you all to let Dayin place this mark upon you until we have crafted something we can wear."

Jon tapped the symbol drawn upon his forehead above his nose. "If you don't there is a chance the Raven King can possess you as he did those on the Iron Islands before making them take their own lives and those of their families."

There were gasps from around the hall, and Jon sank into his chair with a nod to Dayin, who rose from her chair. "Once all have broke their fast I will begin giving the mark to all. In time I believe I could mark something more preminant that need only be worn, but for now all who receive the mark must have it reapplied often lest its power wane."

Once she sank back in her chair Sam looked to Jon, asking over the murmur of the hall, "Does this mean…?"

Jon nodded. "If they agree to it."

Tormund scoffed. "If you ask it they will."

Sam watched Heera take Jon's head in her hands and press her forehead to his while their children looked on in a mix of sorrow, fear and confusion. The maester saw then Jon had put this family at risk in hopes of protecting hSam's, but if any could save the realm he trusted only Jon to do so.

AOTWAOTWAOTW

Tormund was proved right as all the leaders who traveled to Snow Hall agreed with Jon that the Raven King was too great a threat to avoid. To them Jon was more than just a leader, he had fought and died to bring them safely south of the Wall. To those who knew him only as the King-Beyond-The-Wall he was a unifier who traveled to all their lands, met them as equals and helped them build steadier homes now the White Walkers were gone.

The smiths of the town spent day and night making small charms and each night Dayin helped them engrave them while seamstresses made bands to hold them. Each tribe who left did so wearing hand bands with a charm sewn onto the front which they were to wear at all times. Jon was the last to have his charm completed, though he had his attached to a circlet instead of a cloth band.

The day his circlet was complete, Dayin handed it to Herra, who was sat in a simple throne in Snow Hall. "Are you sure, Jon? The bands are comfortable."

"And what I mean to do is not," Jon said meeting her gaze. "We all know what is to come. If I must bear a crown, let it be one with purpose."

Herra gently slid the bronze circlet upon his head with the charm set at the center. Her hands lingered on his head as she leaned in to kiss his lips.

And for the first time the King-Beyond-The-Wall rode to war against the lords of the south.

AOTWAOTWAOTW

Their first boon came from what was left of the Night's Watch. Jon had been made the thousandth commander, but then there were only a dozen or so men who remained and chose him only because they knew him. When he offered to take him with him north they turned him down, so he had promised to send parties south and help them when he could. It was on one of those trips that Tormund had returned with Sam, but other times he sent them to end mutinies or clear out deserters kept in the cells, but riding to Castle Black with his family was the first time he passed through its gates since he left years earlier.

Those who remained gawked at the King-Beyond-The-Wall and their shadow commander which many thought a myth. Jon gave them all a choice to join him, and it was there Sam saw the difference in him.

While most agreed a handful refused to attack their king, taking their vows to heart. Jon tried to convince them otherwise, but when they wouldn't Jon drew Longclaw and took their heads.

Sam was left shocked by the sight, riding beside Jon as they left afterward. "Did you have to kill those men?"

"Yes," he said simply.

"You could have let them live."

"And have them head north to raid and rape the families left behind? Or warn the lords ahead of us of our arrival? You forget not all them are guilty of nonsense crimes or there by choice."

Tormund saw Sam's' unease and rode beside him as Jon rode ahead with Herra. "If this is shocking to you then you've gotten too comfortable in your towers, crow. Don't bother mourning the deaths of rapists and killers."

"I'm neither of those, nor is Jon," Sam said motioning to the king riding ahead of them with his wife. "Not all crows are like that."

"Aye, but if those men weren't then they were fools. We ride to war. That means men will die. Good men, bad men, both will cry out for their mothers and die bloody. If you southron flowers were smart you'd surrender and kneel as you like, but you and I and him know they won't. They'll take up steel and fight and die."

"But I thought he united you all," Sam said glancing at Jon.

"He did, but the ones who threatened him and his, which was all of us, well, they died like those crows." Tormund chuckled and asked, "Why do you think he brought his family with him instead of leaving them safe at home?"

Sam thought for a moment then shook his head. "I don't know. I just thought he'd feel better having them knew and knowing they're alive rather than leaving it to trust."

Tormund snickered. "Maybe that's part of it. Maybe he wants to let them see south of the Wall too, but I'd bet all the beautiful hairs from my head some part of him brought them to make him fight harder. With them close it means if we lose then they die. So now he needs to win more than ever. If he died down here then maybe that thing in his brother would leave them alone beyond the Wall, but maybe it wouldn't. With them here, there's no denying the choice you made him make. Either he kills his brother or his brother kills him and his family."

Sam rode in silence as he looked at Jon's back. He felt sorry for what he'd brought to Jon and respect for a man who rode upright despite no doubt feeling the weight of the world bearing down upon him yet again. He had sacrificed his love and honor once to betray Daenerys and kill her and now he had to do it again, to again become a kinslayer for the sake of a realm that had damned him to the lands beyond the Wall.

AOTWAOTWAOTW

Their first battle came against a minor Northern house occupying Last Hearth now that House Umber was extinct. They rode to the wildling horde with barely a hundred men, half of whom were captured.

Last Hearth was surrounded and the ravens sent shot down, though Jon made it clear he considered their cover long gone given what Bran could do. To Sam's relief he used the captured men to convince the lord to speak with and join Jon rather than suffer a siege.

By the time they arrived at Winterfell they had gained six small houses as allies, including the few who had taken Bear Island from the extinct House Mormont. In total they had well over ten thousand men compared to the two thousand camped around Jon's former home.

"They've agreed to a parlay with six each and from the spot furthest from the walls," Sam said when he returned from Winterfell. "Who will go?"

"Sam, Tormund, Herra, Dayin, Dolaf and I," Jon said rising from the stump he sat on.

"You won't bring any of the northern lords?" Sam asked looking toward their pavilions.

Jon mounted his horse and shrugged. "I'll show Glover my women mean more to me than all his lords."

"That might make them targets," Sam counseled, garnering snickers from the others as they rode toward the meeting point.

Jon recognized three of the men who arrived as Cley Cerwyn, Gawen Glover and his father Robett, though the others he knew by their banners for Hornwood and Tallhart.

Jon remained stoically silent as Robett's lips curved into an arrogant smirk barely containing his seething as he said through his teeth, "Lord Snow."

It was Dayin who rode to Jon's left while Herra was at his right. "If you are to address my lord it will be either as King Jon," Dayin said with a look of disgust. "Though as we are south of the Wall you may call him King Aegon Snowborn of House Targaryen, Sixth Of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men."

"Aegon?" Robett asked with a hint of fear as the others exchanged looks.

"So it's true?" asked Cley.

"It's a lie," Robett dismissed with a wave of his hand. "He's nothing but a Queenslayer."

"And a Kinslayer," said Jon, his eyes never leaving Robett. "Both my own and yours."

Robett sneered, gripping the reins of his horse. "You ask for a parlay and threaten me, bastard? I still remember-"

"I called this only to offer Lords Cerwyn, Tallhart and Hornwood the chance to surrender. You and those of your blood will die here. Your house will die here, and all will know you for cravens and betrayers who fled when faced with the Long Night and were too cowardly to kill your Queen with your own hands as I did my aunt."

Robett's face was contorted by a sneering smile as he glared at Jon. "You'll die here, Snow, just like your whore of a sister. I hear she died crying out for you. Perhaps you will join her."

Jon turned his attention to lords Cerwyn, Tallhart and Hornwood. "You can all surrender and join us if you wish. I will hear trials for those who had a part in my sister's death."

"You're a fool, Snow," Robett said shaking his head.

Jon's dark gaze fell upon Robett then. "I'll allow you to try and rally your men and claim your vengeance, but if you care for them then you will surrender yourself to die so they may live."

Robett scoffed, then furrowed his brow. "Vengeance?"

His answer came as an arrow pierced Gawen's shoulder a split second before another pierced his throat. Sam and the Northern lords were startled, but Jon and the free folk remained unmoved as they watched the young lord slump grasp at the arrow in his neck, gasping and drowning in his own blood.

"GAWEN!" Robett yelled, moving his horse to his son's side and reaching out to hold him up as the boy slumped forward gurgling. It was only once his son went quiet that Robett turned to Jon, tears streaking his cheeks and face twisted in answer until he saw hundreds of archers in the trees barely a hundred feet away. He had been a fool to fear them nearing the walls so much he chose a spot Jon suggested near the trees.

"I will kill you," Robett said with a seething glare at Jon. "I will take your women and have my men rape them until they are as broken as your sister was before they finally slit her throat."

"I've killed your son," Jon said unshaken by Glover's answer. "I will kill you, and I will kill your wife, your daughter and your grandchildren. All of House Glover will die and if they are raped it will be by your men before I have the chance to put them to the sword. I swear that to you, though you don't deserve that peace of mind. My men will shoot all ravens your maester sends out and we will wait for you to come and meet us in the field, but remember Glover… You house an army at your walls and your stores only go so deep, and winter is coming for House Glover."

At that Jon turned his horse around and the others followed him from the clearing, leaving the northern lords to seeth and guide the dead Gawen's horse back to Winterfell.

AOTWAOTWAOTW

"Do you think he'll attack?" asked a tribe chief as they gathered at a table in Jon's tent that night.

"You didn't see him," said the lanky Dolaf, who wore bronze armor from the Thenns and a sword taken from Castle Black. "If he could have attacked then he would have. The only thing stopping the fool was the men in the trees."

"Most likely he'll send someone to try and kill me tonight," Jon said from his place at the head of the table. After giving Herra a quick, assuring smile, he turned to the others. "It's why I have Ghost and the others set up around the camp with guards. When they come the direwolves will find them."

"And then?" asked Sam. "How will we take Winterfell?"

"You say that as if we haven't done it once already," Tormund said with a laugh.

"As did the dead," said one of the northern lords.

"Yes, and both times were the faults of those within," Jon said with a sigh as he looked to the map laid across the table. "I wish I never listened to the fools who said we should meet the dead outside the walls."

Herra rubbed his shoulder. "You can't blame yourself for imbeciles, love."

"I should have pushed more, but with everything…" He shook his head. "It's no excuse. Men died and I have to live with that, but that's in the past. For now we need to hope they are as stupid as Ramsay was and we were. If they meet us in the field they lose."

Their long discussion of their plans was interrupted only once when one of the others in Ghost's pack howled and a man-at-arms was captured on his way to try and kill Jon. Once they finished, Jon and Herra moved to a different tent, leaving his raised in case someone somehow made it past the guards.

When dawn came it found the field beside Winterfell lined with two thousand northmen and five times as many free folk. At the head of each army their commanders rode atop their horses.

Sam was shocked to see how different Jon seemed that day. He had seen him ride to war before, but this different. He had trimmed his beard and slipped his crown beneath his long dark hair, which was pulled back with half his locks bound with bronze rings. It was similar to his wife, who had her own golden mane pulled back from her face with a few small braids her daughters had done the night before and numerous small bronze rings and clips holding it all in place.

"These men claim they are of the north," Jon said turning to look at his people, "but we are the true folk of the north!" A cheer went out as Jon drew his his sword. "This is only the beginning, but let us show these southron lords the true might of the North!"

The roaring cheers turned as Jon led the charge. He nearly grinned seeing the northern cavalry ride out to meet them. They were set to clash until Tormund blew his horn and all the free riders turned, diverting to either side and moving back toward the army. For a moment the northern riders were baffled, but then they saw the shadow sliding across the land and looked up to a wall of arrows that rained down upon them, skewering man and steed alike.

Hundreds died in an instant while others were left screaming in pain, either from arrows or crushed beneath their horses. That was enough to break the cavalry, the bulk of whom turned and fled back to the northern army.

"You cowards," Robett screamed at the returning men. "Ride! RIDE! KILL THE WILDLINGS!"

As he drew his sword and started to march with the infantry toward the free folk, horns sounded from Winterfell where distant screams emanated. The northern lords turned and saw the few men left on the ramparts being cut down and tossed from the high walls of Winterfell as the remaining two thousand free folk came from the opposite side of the castle.

When thirty men started toward the nearest gate, they were skewered by arrows from the lines of bowmen now occupying the walls while others shut and barred the gates, trapping the northmen outside of Winterfell. When they turned back to the free folk army they found them charging forward with Jon at the front, Longclaw in one hand and the other holding an iron rimmed round shield split between black and white bearing the scarlet dragon of House Targaryen and the Grey Wolf of House Stark.

It was those same banners that hung from the walls of Winterfell when the northern army fell. In the end the men of Cerwyn, Tallhart and Hornwood broke away and surrendered, leaving only those of House Glover to fight. While many died for their lord, more turned away and surrendered themselves.

When it was clear they were defeated Robett Glover screamed at Jon from across the field, "FIGHT ME, BASTARD!"

Jon looked around the battlefield where his men were putting the helpless to mercy while others were dragged away to be looked over and treated or put out of their misery. Dismounting, Jon pulled his shield from his horse which had barely a scratch on it and made his way toward the muddied Lord Glover.

Sam gasped, making his way to Herra, who was pulling her spear from the throat of a Glover man-at-arms. "Shouldn't we stop him?"

She looked to him and snickered. "Watch closely, Sam and all your doubts will fade."

He blinked in confusion, but did as she said, watching Jon make his way toward Robett. A wave of Jon's hand kept the other free folk away, forming a broken ring around them as Glover took up a shield and spear. It was there Jon sheathed Longclaw and told Robett, "You're unworthy of Longclaw. You'll die here in the mud, and your family will join you before the day ends."

Robett Glover let out a guttural roar and charged forward while Jon kept his shield at his side while standing still. It was only when Glover thrust his spear at Jon's heart that the King-Beyond-The-Wall moved. In a burst of movement he stepped aside, dodging the spear and his right hand moved out to run along the haft. Just as Robett stopped his thrust, Jon clasped his hand around the spear and drive the side of his shield into it as hard as he could, shattering the haft, leaving Robett with a long stick and Jon with a short spear he spun in his palm while striding forward, driving it down into Robet's neck over the edge of his shield.

The northern lord fell to his knees, gasping for breath that never came as blood filled his lungs and he stared at Jon, who turned from him and made his way to Winterfell, not sparing a glance for the dying lord.

As evening came many gathered in the bailey to watch Jon take the heads of the remaining Glovers. Sam thought at first it might have been bloodlust that drove them, but he saw that most if not all seemed to share in their king's sorrow as he took the lives of the older glover children. It was only later he learned that Jon had quietly given the ones too young to remember all that happened to free folk to raise as their own, having taken only those he knew would hold grudges and seek vengeance.

To the world House Glover had died that day, but Sam saw that while Jon was brutal he wasn't cruel. It made him wonder as he sometimes did if he had overreacted hearing Daenerys had killed his father and brother. He saw now Jon, this Jon, would have done the same, but he could understand now it wasn't his family who died. He could see the logic where before he saw only his own sorrow for what his brother could have been.

AOTWAOTWAOTW

With the fall of House Glover the southern half of the North rallied to Jon's side. They had been the ones loyal to Sansa for her Stark blood, the ones who asked the southron king for help which never came.

It was in the Neck where Jon rode with Stark banners prominently on display when they set up camp for the first night the direwolves warned them of crannogmen approaching. Unlike Glover's assassin, who lost his head, the crannogmen received a warm welcome from Jon who told them, "I want to speak to the Reeds. If they will not come to me I will go to them, but I do so with all my men."

It was three days later that they stopped their procession as a group of cannogmen appeared led by both Howland Reed and his daughter Meera. Jon moved forward and dismounted along with a dozen others to meet the cannogmen on even ground.

"Lord Howland Reed?" Jon asked the small, older man.

A smirk crossed the man's lips as he looked Jon over. "So you're Aegon. I've heard much of you."

"And I you." Jon looked to Meera. "You as well, Lady Meera."

She scoffed. "I'm sure."

"Bran spoke of you," he said to her surprise.

"He did?"

Jon nodded. "He said you helped carry him back from the Children of the Forest's cave."

Meera rolled her eyes and whispered, "Of course."

"I'm going to kill him," Jon said crossing his arm, watching her. "Will you join us?"

The women sneered at him. "You're going to kill your brother to claim your throne?"

Jon shook his head. "I'm going to kill the Three-Eyed Raven using Bran's body."

"What?" she asked, her standoffish attitude crumbling to concern.

The King glanced to Sam, who stepped forward nodding. "I saw it myself, My Lady. There's… nothing human to him. Not anymore. Whatever remained of Bran is long gone. All that remains now is the Three-Eyed Raven."

Meera's hands rose to her mouth. "Gods. I lead him to it."

"You didn't know," Jon said quietly. "Meera. Sansa said it seemed obvious to her that you cared for Bran. If that's still true then you have to see we can't let him continue to be used like this. We can't let people live in fear."

"And what can I do?" Meera asked in a whisper.

"I imagine it's more what I can do," Howland said watching Jon. "I can confirm your true name."

"Which will be useful for some, aye," Jon admitted before turning his attention to Meera, "but if there is anything left of Bran, anything who cares for you or I, then we're the only ones who have a chance to get through to him."

Meera agreed and joined their army along with Howland Reed and a few hundred crannogmen as the Great Northern Horde passed into the Riverlands.

AOTWAOTWAOTW

Though battles became more frequent Jon was shocked to find most simpler than even the taking of Winterfell. To most it didn't matter if they were a horde of wildlings, they were coming to put an end to the rule of the Raven King. Those who might have looked down on them either for being made up largely of free folk or even men of the North, who many saw as no better, their concerns were eased learning Jon's true name.

Edmure Tully apologized on behalf of his sister when he heard the tale, though Jon dismissed it. He was surprised Edmure didn't argue more against riding to kill Bran considering the words of House Tully, but when Jon mentioned it Edmure's face darkened and he said, "Though they may have shared my blood Bran and Sansa were not my family."

"Sansa?" Jon asked in surprise at the venom in his voice.

"She dismissed us the same as every other southron lord," Edmure said shaking his head, disappointment clear on his face. "She looked down on us all as lesser than her and those who made her queen. In time it became clear she cared not for family or honor, only her crown."

The more Jon rode the more he found others shared Edmure's opinion of his cousin. The North didn't love her because she was a Stark. Many of those loyal to Herra told him the northmen said they didn't even consider her a Stark near the end, likening her more to a Bolton or Lannister.

To most Sansa was a haughty, cut throat woman undeserving of her name. It was only then as Jon looked back he saw how much his need for family had blinded him to her faults. She had played him at the Battle of the Bastards, left him and thousands of men to die so she could reclaim Winterfell with men loyal to her. She had been against Dany from the moment they rode north, never making an effort to know her or even hide her malice. She was at least as much to blame for him putting a knife through Dany's heart as Tyrion, Cersei and the rest.

The Vale fell to Jon with little struggle, which likely was eased by the presence of Edmure and the northern lords who remained loyal to Sansa, or rather House Stark, even after she died. The Westerlands were even easier as Tyrion's cousin rode out to greet Jon and swear themselves to Aegon the Sixth. Tyrion had told them before his death the truth of Jon and was planning to swear his house to him, but when he died it passed on to his cousin who saw the value in siding with Jon rather than the Raven King.

Occasionally companies of men would come from the Crownlands to meet them, but the Great Northern Horde was too vast, breaking them with ease. Scouts surrounded their growing army, which tore through the Reach with ease to reach Horn Hill, where Sam found his family waiting to greet him.

Jon considered letting him stay, but he had need of him as Sam would know the lords they faced better than he, and he trusted him more than any of the other southron lords who joined them. So his family joined them riding south into Dorne.

They found many of the lords open to joining them, but unwilling to do so without their prince. With tacit promises from those they passed, Jon made his way east to Sunspear and the Prince of Dorne.

Two days after Jon's arrival at Sunspear, Dorne no longer had a prince. Instead he named Lord Yronwood as Lord Paramount of Dorne and they helped them quell those who remained loyal to House Martell. Within a month Dornish lords rode into the Stormlands with the Great Northern Horde.

While many expected some challenge in the Stormlands they instead were greeted by Gendry, who embraced Jon warmly and swore himself to him only to be shocked upon learning they were cousins through Targaryen blood. The Stormlands rallied behind their lord with little resistance, joining Jon's army as they at last rode into the Crownlands.

In the years that followed most would agree King Aegon VI's conquest was more a rallying of desperate men. Westeros was broken by the wars that came after Robert Baratheon's death. The North had been decimated by war after war until most of their lands were barren. In truth Queen Sansa Stark ruled a half empty realm that diminished in her rule without the support of the southron kingdoms. Most agree that while she knew how to obtain a crown she knew not how to maintain it. Her rule saw no rise of the North, only it's isolation.

The southron kingdoms suffered under a different Stark, so even while some saw the Targaryen banner as an ill omen in the days after the burning of King's Landing, most saw it as a lesser evil. It helped that it was joined by the Stark banner, and by the time they rode into the Crownlands both had been supplanted by one bearing the symbol all their people wore upon their brow. A symbol of unity, freedom and peace. A symbol of hope.

AOTWAOTWAOTW

When the Great Northern Horde, or rather the Great Westerosi Horde, arrived at King's Landing they found its gates barred but its streets empty. Many who couldn't find solace in the Red Keep fled for the hills. Some even joined Jon's army, growing their number even as they marched to the city.

Some expected that given all they'd seen of how quick most were willing to turn on their tyrannical Raven King the guards would open the gates, but they remained closed.

"Most likely their families are held in the Red Keep," Jon said as the lords and chiefs gathered at a great meeting outside King's Landing. "If they aren't loyal they are men who love their family enough to die for them."

So they did. Siege towers came toward the city days after the army arrived, and while one burned before reaching the walls two others reached them and dozens of men flooded the ramparts. Within minutes two gates were open and the Northern Horde sent scouts into the city with a vanguard.

An hour later the city bells rang in a pattern Jon suggested, signaling that the way was clear. Beside him Herra's cheers quieted as she saw Jon turn his head upon hearing the bells. Reaching out to hold his hand, she pulled his attention to her and smiled to him with unspoken assurance.

Jon turned his hand in hers, bringing hers up to place a kiss on the back of it before he drew his sword and pointed to King's Landing, leading the charge through its gates.

The Red Keep was surrounded as Jon's army covered the shores and filled the city. There was no escape for those within the keep. They might have been able to last a few weeks, likely less given the bulk of people within its bailey, but when dawn came so did the ladder rushes.

While a few men perished to dropped pots and high falls most were only injured before the rushes broke the siege and men started flooding the ramparts. Gold cloaks fell and died, some surrendering as the gates were opened and draw bridges lowered. However the army didn't charge through the gates. Instead the men on the ramparts told the huddled masses in the bailey to flee.

At first only a few did with great caution, but soon hundreds were flooding from the Red Keep, passing the army to return to their homes. Among them was the gaunt Little Sam, who clung to his father's side before one of the Tarly men-at-arms took the boy to rejoin his family at one of their camps.

When their number thinned the army began passing through the gates with Jon leading the battalion entering the keep. Two kingsguard challenged them along the way were cut down with ease by Jon and those closest to him.

When they entered the great hall it was there they found the king in his throne, surrounded by some of his small council and three more kingsguard. Jon looked past them all to the thin figure of his brother sat within the body of a weirwood tree which rose from the shattered ground with a crimson canopy casting him in shadow.

"Welcome, brother," Bran said, his voice carrying across the hall.

Jon took a breath to steel himself, but turned to the dark haired woman beside him. Meera gave him a questioning look, but he gave her an assuring nod and watched her step forward.

"Bran, it's me, Meera. If there's any part of you left in there, please, give up." They saw Bran stare at her, his eyes suddenly turning white. He seemed almost to glare at her, but Meera simply held out a hand to him, "Please, Bran…"

When the white left his eyes, Bran let out an amused huff. "I thought I could break it when you were closer, but the red priestess' Yi Ti magic works well. Bronn."

At that the master of coin drew his sword and stepped forward with the three kingsguards behind him. That was when Jon stepped to Meera's side with Longclaw drawn. "There's no point in fighting. Stand down."

"And you'll spare us?" Bronn asked with a smirk. "Unless you can pay more than-"

"No," Jon cut him off, telling the sellsword, "you're going to die, but the rest don't need to." It wasn't a secret the master of coin used his position to fill his own purse, taking coin from all who enter the city, increasing the taxes on all businesses to the point many trade ships went to White Harbor instead.

"Me?" Bronn laughed. "Who's going to kill me? You? I've been killing men twice your size before you ever left your mother's cunt."

"And that won't stop my sword from opening your throat." Jon stepped forward asking, "Was Tyrion surprised when you threw him out the window or did he at least know you were nothing but a gutter rat in the end?"

Bronn's face twisted in anger, telling Jon his assumption was right or close enough to upset the sellsword, which made him charge forward with a roar. His thrust was swiftly deflected and parried by Jon, who did as he said and slashed Longclaw across Bronn's throat. As he slumped forward clutching his neck, Jon dropped his shield and ripped Widow's Wail from his grasp and slammed the side of Longtclaw into his temple, making him stumble to the side and fall over, bleeding out on the floor.

"Meera," Jon said quietly as he strode forward to meet the kingsguard.

The others were ready to move in but kept their distance, letting Meera carefully follow Jon and make her way toward Bran. She had seen Jon in battle a few times now, but still marveled as he met all three kingsguard at once, his Valyrian steel swords deflecting blows until he managed to slash one across the neck as she rushed past them to the weirwood throne. That first death set the others tumbling and in a moment he had sliced both blades through the neck of another kingsguard and then through the face of the last.

Meera came to a stop before Bran and stared into his vacant eyes, which searched hers as she said, "Bran, please, if you're in there still, if you care at all for me or anyone…" He hand reached out to touch his cheek as tears filled her eyes.

"Of course I care," Bran said softly. "I care that man is a stain upon the earth which gives us life. I care that I can't kill them all myself. It only worked with the ironborn because their pride made them weak and vulnerable. I saw how broken they were, how I could pick them off so I did. But Aegon and the witch's mark kept me from you… until now."

The tears in her eyes fell as his eyes turned white and a moment later hers did the same, but as she raised her spear a sword pierced Bran's chest and the ivory left both their eyes. Meera turned to find Jon stood beside her with Widow's Wail driven into Bran's heart.

"Let this shard of Ice take the life of the last Stark," Jon said pushing the blade deeper, making Bran gasp and cough up blood.

Meera's spear fell as she put a hand to her mouth, gasping as she watched Bran's eyes began to flick about wildly, shifting from white to normal before a pale blood poured from his eyes, nose and eyes like sap.

The tension left his body and Bran looked upon Meera and Jon with true sorrow, the first emotion to run through him completely in years. It was raw and real, pouring from him with the last of his life.

"Jon, Meera," he gasped, looking to the others in the room staring at the sight before settling his weak gaze upon those before him and whispering with his last breath, "I'm sorry I…"

Meera sobbed and turned away, hiding her face in her hands while Jon let Longclaw fall to the floor and let go of Widow's Wail to run a hand through Bran's shaggy auburn hair and bring his brother's head to his chest, kissing the crown of his head one last time.

As people rushed from the hall to ring the bell and shout their victory, Jon took the sword from his brother's chest and told Meera to get away. Her confusion faded when she saw him cut a branch from the weirwood throne and take a piece of flint to it, holding the burning branch until the throne ignited. And there in the great hall of the Red Keep the Raven King and his weirwood throne burned and died.

AOTWAOTWAOTW

Jon found the last two kingsguard in the dungeons of King's Landing. Tormund was with him when they found Brienne in a dark cell beside Pod and Davos. The three had been too good for their own sake, making little effort to hide their displeasure with Bran once Sam was sent away.

The maester sent to replace Sam sent out ravens carrying word of the kings death as riders went out to inform the citizens of King's Landing the fighting was done.

Though he'd hoped he was wrong, Jon wasn't surprised when the lords of the realm turned to him and declared him their king. He expected as much, having told the free folk from the start that traveling south would likely mean he wouldn't return north, not permanently.

However Jon decided to use his time as King-Beyond-The-Wall to guide his time as King of Westeros. Each Lord Paramount was told to gather the lords of the lands and chose someone to represent them on a council made up of a person from every kingdom, including the far north. The small council would have to grow, and Westeros with it.

AOTWAOTWAOTW

In time tales would tell of King Aegon The Uniter, who brought together the kingdoms of Westeros and rebuilt a continent broken by a dozen kings before him. They would tell the tale of Drogon's return to the king who brought down the Wall.

Tales came and went of his affairs with the red priestess he kept, that he had a dozen wives in the free folk, but those are easily dismissed by most. Many would say he favored the free folk as he gave the empty keeps of the many extinct houses to the chiefs who stayed south while the rest returned to the north. Some might have complained, but the realm was broken and barren and needed the people many once feared as wildlings.

All tales would agree that Aegon was a largely sullen king who saw his rule as a duty rather than a reward. It was no secret he would have preferred to ride north and spend the rest of his days with his family at Snow Hall, but time and time again it had fallen on him to help the realm, so at lest he had stayed and accepted the role he was meant to have but never wanted.

While many songs would be written about King Jon the Just, many agreed he would have felt more pride seeing King Aemon The First take his place with The Hand of the King Robbwell at his side, in seeing Lyanna Targaryen sat in a throne at Snow Hall and Rickard where Eddard had once sat while Alyra remade Summerhall. Many would say she was her brother's master of whispers, even going so far as to say she had inherited the same power as her uncle, the Raven King, though only those of House Targaryen know the truth.

It is known that Jon Snow found little joy in his time as king, but let none say he was a joyless man, for he had it in abundance in the love of his wife and children and grandchildren. For even as the wolves fell the northern pack survived to become the dragons of a new age.

AN:

For those who are waiting on Wyrm and Cub I don't know when the next chapter will be published. I have a bunch written but the show basically killed my enthusiasm for the series and I don't want to publish the chapters unedited because there are things I know I want to change based on later chapters, not to mention how my view of characters has been changed. I've tried a few times to work on them but I just bounce off, hence it remaining on hiatus for now.

This wasn't necessarily made to publish, but I found it and thought it was interesting so figured why not post it for anyone who cared to read it. Maybe it will give people some catharsis where it failed for me, or at least can entertain while you're stuck inside.