Epilogue: A next generation

"Your Grace." Jon and Mance bow in front of Stannis as they are entering his office.

"Did you finally come to an understanding?" The King asks, right to the point.

"Aye, Your Grace. We did." Jon hands him a first roll of paper. "These are my thoughts on the reorganization of the order of the Night's-Watch. I give my preference to Cotter Pike as new Lord Commander and to raise the ranger named Grenn as Sir and Commander of Eastwatch. I let them choose a steward of their liking."

"Hum, hum." Stannis continues to read the paper and starts to chuckle. "Smart move to send Slynt with the first garrison of men I'll send to rebuild the ruined castles along the Wall. He won't be able to refuse this honor without putting himself in an awkward situation."

"He insisted so much to please you, Your Grace." Jon takes the King's jest.

"For sure." Stannis smiles. "Oh, this is interesting." He raises his gaze. "You'd like me to write a warrant of arrest for everyone who was around the table during the Red Wedding and send those prisoners to re-populate the Wall as seasoned soldiers. There are a lot of noble men on that list, Jon. They have the right to a fair trial. I already told you I want to be a King without a blood bill in my hands."

"You also promised the Lady Ylliria vengeance for the murder of her husband, my brother, for Catelyn Stark and all the good Northern men who were killed in the most despicable way." Jon comments.

"I know what I said and I will keep that promise!" The King flings. "All in due time and it will be done within the framework of the Ancient Laws of Westeros. I want 'Fair justice for All' be reinstated in this Realm. I will not stand any other massacre or self-vengeance vendettas! I will sit on the Iron Throne with above reproachable means. This is the start of a new era. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Your Grace." Jon's gaze drops on the floor.

"Let say I finally agree to write those warrants, it will be with the supreme order to bring those men alive and unharmed to face their trial. And only I will decide of their fair sentence."

"It will be done as Your Grace wishes."

"Good. What's next?"

"Sir Rayman Bennett is here to sign the Edict of allegiance to the King and be named Lord of Garrymount under your banner, Your Grace."

"Mance, your case gave me some sleepless nights. To be totally honest with you, I was really not in favor of letting you go free after all your crimes. But, I won't risk jeopardizing my first real chance to put this Realm on its feet again, just for one single man. Consider yourself very lucky to have noble blood running through your veins and to be the exception in my claim for a new and fair justice."

"I was raised as a noble man, Your Grace and have the pretension to believe I still am. I was fighting for what I thought to be a right cause. Some of the people living behind this Wall are humans like you and I. They were just at the wrong place at the wrong time when this Ice structure was build."

"If they follow the Laws of our Realm, they are welcome to live among us. If they don't, they will be punished like any other man in Westeros." Stannis finally opens a wooden box on his desk, grabs a roll of parchment and hands it to Mance. Rayman takes a quill, dips it into the inkwell and puts its signature at the bottom of the document. "Now, last but not least." The King smiles, blowing on the paper to make sure it dries before re-rolling it. "Who will finally be my new Lord of Winterfell and head of my Northern Army?" He stares at Jon.

"Your Grace, Bran Stark is the next of kin and Heir of Winterfell. He is by Law be the next Lord of Winterfell."

"But, that is leaving you without a title, Jon."

"If Your Grace permits, I would request of you to remove my taint of bastardy and would gladly take the name of Stark. I also have the intention to wed the Lady Ylliria and be the Lord's guardian till Bran will be of age to wed as well."

"This is a quite unorthodox request, Jon." Stannis comments. "That would leave you with a title of Sir and to be the head of the Army I really need to have a Lord." After a long moment of reflection, he raises from his seat. "Hear my decision and it's not negotiable. Jon Stark, you'll be named Lord of Winterfell and Bran Stark as your legitimate Heir. If, in the course of his life, he produces legitimate sons, his firstborn will be next in line. If not, your own children will continue the blood line. To House Garrymount, Lord Rayman Bennett, alias Mance Rayder, will take wife as soon as possible to perpetuate its own blood line. If at Rayman's death no male child was produced, House Stark will give the title to the next in line after the Heir of Winterfell." He briskly turns around to face the two men. "Think about it, I just made both your Houses the most powerful ones in the North. Don't disappoint me now." He smiles.

"We won't, Your Grace." Mance surprisingly answers first. "And we thank you for your trust."

"Jon?"

"I accept those terms, Your Grace." The young man finally voices.

"One last thing, Jon, I'd like that your wedding takes place here at the Wall, in my presence and under R'hllor's blessing. My Priestess Melisandre will lead the ceremony."

"As Your Grace knows, we were raised under the protection of the Old Gods."

"The Lord of Light will be the new religion in the Realm, as soon as I'll sit on the throne. But, I won't forbid you to have another ceremony once back in Winterfell." The King sits back in his chair. "That will be all for now, My Lords." He dismisses them.

"Your Grace." Mance and Jon bow again and leave the room.

.

A few days later, a huge banquet is organized in the main dinner Hall to celebrate Ylliria and Jon's wedding. Every soldier or Sworn Brother that could play an instrument was invited to entertain the party. There is not much room for a real dance, but with ale and wine flowing in abundance, the guests manage to start a jig around the newlyweds.

"Do you think they will ask for a bedding?" Ylliria worriedly whispers in Jon's ear.

"No, the men will already have enough to talk about with a wedding that was celebrated at the Wall. Sam checked in the archive and could not find trace of one precedent in the whole history of the Night's Watch." He jests.

"I'm sure the 998th Lord Commander will be recognized for his collection of precedence during his short duty." She jokes back, making him burst into laughter.

"If a few months back, someone would have told me that I'd marry you and be named Lord of Winterfell, I would have questioned his sanity."

"Jon, are you happy? I mean, I hope we didn't force your hand on any of this."

"No, you did not, My Love." He takes her hand in his and lightly squeezes it. "I know it's hard to comprehend my ways of thinking sometimes. And I won't lie; I'm still dealing with some of the aspects of it. But, I am happy right now, with you. My concerns are more: Will I be able to continue my father and Robb's path? Will I have the strengths to restore the Stark name and honor as it was before?"

"All of us are behind you and we will help you as much as we can. We are a family again, recomposed and blood mixed maybe, but a family in our hearts."

"Please remind me that when I start to doubt again." He smiles.

"Oh, you can count on me for such mission."

"I know I can." He rolls his eyes.

Arya suddenly comes between them. "My Lord, My Lady? Would you please be so kind to follow us? We have something we wanted to show you." She giggles.

"My Lady, it would be an honor to lead you. Please take my arm." Wylis offers.

"And you come with me, my dear brother." Arya puts her hand under Jon's elbow.

"What in the Old God's Heaven did they come up with?" He gives Ylliria a worried look.

They lead the newlywed couple to the Lord Commander's tower. Sam is waiting in front of the main door, a huge smile on his face. "If you would mind to enter." He ceremoniously bows. "We thought that you might appreciate a little privacy in this odd environment. We set up a nice and comfortable bedroom on the second floor, with a fire in the hearth and all the softest pelts we could gather." He climbs the stairs and shows them the place. "Tomorrow morning, a nice breakfast will be ready for you. And we have ordered to all not to disturb you for any reason or mean, under penalty of sanctions." He tries to suppress a laugh. "My Lord, My Lady, we hope you'll enjoy your stay in our one-day Inn." He bows again.

"Samuel Tarly!" Jon grabs him in a bear hug. "I love you!"

"Oh dear, no, no, no… Come on now, not in front of your spouse. What would she think? The Night's Watch already has a sort of reputation; don't make anyone think it could be true!" The chubby man jests, trying to get rid of the embrace.

"Do you want to know what the spouse thinks, Sam? Well, she thinks that you're the most adorable man in this realm… And I love you too!" She jumps in his arms. "Thank you all." She turns towards Arya and Wylis.

"Hey, it's just selfish thinking here, I'd like to become a grand-uncle very soon." Mance appears at the top of the stairs. "All right, folks, leave them alone now!" He orders the others.

As soon as they are alone, Jon carries Ylliria in his arms. "I know we didn't have a conventional wedding. But, some traditions can be kept anyways." He enters the bedroom, kicking the door close with his foot and gently brings her to the bed. She surrounds his face with her hands and starts to kiss him. He delicately lays her down, not breaking their embrace.

.

Three weeks later, a small Army, composed of Northern men and a part of Stannis' contingent, is ready to leave Castle Black to start the reconquest of the Realm campaign. At their head, Jon Stark, the new Lord of Winterfell and Warrant of the North.

"May our Lord of Light, R'hllor guide and illuminate your path, My Lord." Melisandre tells him just before he mounts his new stallion.

"What did you see in your flames, My Lady? Will he give us men and courage to succeed?" Jon flings back.

"Do you remember what I told you when you were named Lord Commander?"

"Not really." He shrugs.

"I told you that I was seeing you riding a white stallion, wearing a flamboyant armor, your longsword in hand, entering the yard of a ruined Castle, acclaimed by a crowd of scrawny people. You laugh at my prophecy back then. But, look at you today." She smiles.

"I'll give you that, My Lady." He smiles too. "And I apologize for my arrogance."

"You have now been blessed in the Light of R'hllor. He will give you the power to accomplish your mission. Next time we'll meet, it will be in King's Landing for the crowning of our beloved King Stannis."

"Don't leave too soon for that journey, My Lady. Our road will be long and hazardous. And I would be sad to learn you were waiting for me in front of a locked door."

"Let me be the judge of that, My Lord." Melisandre starts to laugh.

Jon grabs the reins and jumps on his saddle. He looks over his shoulder to check that all are ready and gives the order of departure raising a fist in the air.

.

Word spreads around fast that a new Lord of Winterfell is en route to the castle. As the newly constituted Northern Army passes by, all the villagers are gathering along the road to acclaim them.

Aside of some minor altercation with groups of brigands; they don't find much resistance during their progression.

"Another couple of days and we'll be in sight of Winterfell. I hope the rebuilding I ordered ahead has made some progress. I want to make a surprise for Ylliria." Jon comments.

"I'm sure all of you will be pleased to see the castle again, even in repair." Lord Umber smiles. "I suppose the real battles will start when we'll cross the Barrowlands and to the Neck, My Lord."

"Eager to fight, Lord Umber?"

"It is now way to long since I got the chance to use my Longsword." The Greatjon gently taps on the engraved handle hanging on his side. "And it's also time our people to live in peace again."

"May that the Old Gods hear your words." Jon sighs. "I decided to stay in Winterfell till we know the exact number of our forces. We'll then send word to Torrhen's Square, Barrowtown, Moat Cailin and Riverrun's Castles soon as we'll be on our way."

"And what about the Twins?"

"I have in mind to siege the place coming from both sides of the river. That's why I need to know the forces we could expect from our Bannermen Lords. But before all that, I'd rather inform King Stannis about our current situation. We'll need more of his men too."

"I'll prepare a council at our next halt, My Lord." Lord Umber turns his horse and rejoins his contingent.

.

Jon lets himself fall on the bed in their tent.

"How was the Council?" Ylliria asks, closing the book she was reading.

"We're making progress in evaluating what we might find ahead of us. Scouts and ravens are coming from every corner of the Northern Realm. The Ironborn have withdrawn from most of the inland castles. They still have Deepwood Motte, though. I'll request Stannis' men to take care of that." He sighs.

"You seem totally exhausted, My Love." She gently strokes his hair.

"And we're not even half-way through yet." He chuckles.

"Do you have doubts again?" She smiles.

"No, Sweetheart. No doubts. But, I need your strengths." He shifts on his side, placing his hand on the back of her neck to kiss her.

"Take all you need." She lets her book fall on the floor to welcome his embrace.

.

As forecasted, two days later they are in sigh of Winterfell's towers. Ylliria sees someone running towards them on the road. She jumps from the carriage as soon as she recognizes her friend Belinda. "Oh, all the Gods be blessed!" She grabs her in her arms, tears running down her face.

"My Lady… My dear dear Lady." The kitchen maid sobs. "With all the stories we've heard, I thought I'd never see you again."

"Me too. I was so scared that you'd be captured or even dead."

"The Gods were good to us, My Lady. Ailwin and our boy are all right too. We escaped from the Mill before that bird of ill omen of Greyjoy murderer came along. We found refuge with Ailwin's uncle till we heard that the Lord of Winterfell was coming back. We could not believe our ears, My Lady."

"I know a lot happened since we've been separated. But, we'll now have all the time in the world to catch up on our adventures." Ylliria takes her back in her arms. "For now, let me enjoy your presence, my sweet Belinda. You cannot imagine how glad I am to see you."

"Is it true, My Lady? You finally married your true love?" The maid whispers.

"It seems so." Ylliria bursts into laughter.

"Belinda!" A joyful boy's voice rises from behind.

"My sweet little Lord, so happy to see you." She lightly bows before Rickon jumps in her arms.

"I thought I'd never see those towers again. I feel kind of awkward." Jon comments, dismounting from his horse.

"My Lord." The maid deeply curtseys. "Welcome home."

"Thank you, Belinda." He takes her by the elbow to lift her up. "No need for too much ceremony." He smiles.

"As you can see, my dear husband still needs to adapt to his new duties." Ylliria jests.

"Did you find enough workers?" Jon asks the maid.

"Aye, please follow me, I'll show you."

"They are rebuilding the Castle already?" Ylliria asks with a wide smile over her face, looking around the yard.

"I wanted to make you a surprise. I hope the Hall and the bedrooms are already livable."

"They are, My Lord." Ailwin says, standing in the doorway.

"Nice to see you again, Ailwin." Jon holds out his arm for a handshake.

They all climb the stairs. Jon hesitates for a moment to open the Lord's bedroom door, remembering when his father lived here. Ylliria grabs his hand and lightly squeezes it.

"Where are our bedrooms?" Rickon asks Ailwin, followed by Bran on Hodor's back.

"Come with me, My Little Lords. I'll show you."

"Talking about surprises." Ylliria closes the door for them to have a moment alone. "I have one for you too. I didn't tell anyone yet. I wanted you to be the first to know." She snuggles in his arms.

"And what would that be?" He kisses her forehead.

"Well, I hope you'd like it."

"By all the Gods, Ylliria, stop the torture. Say it!" He gently tells her of.

"I'm with child, Jon."

"What? Are you sure? I mean, really?" He stutters, instinctively putting a hand over her belly.

"You can't see it yet, but aye, I'm sure." She covers his hand with hers.

"Me, becoming a father… So soon…" He worriedly comments.

"I know. But, you'll have time to get around that idea, Sweetheart. It's only due for another six months. And in my eyes you are ready and already one. You do very well with Bran and Rickon."

"I love you, Ylliria." He whispers in her ear, hugging her tight.

"I love you too, Jon."

A new generation of Stark has settling down in Winterfell.

THE END

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I would like to thank all of you who took the time to read this story and all the future ones that maybe will do.

I hope you've/'ll enjoy it as much as I took pleasure to write it.

I really learned a lot making it and that alone is worth the time consuming.

And why not, I might find another idea for a next story. ;-)

Thank you, thank you, thank you... And take care.