Great Hall, Winterfell.

"You cannot tell me that you, of all people, did not know about Jon, Lord Varys. I refuse to believe it." Jorah was chuckling, openly mocking the once powerful Master of Whispers.

"Prince Jorah, I appreciate that you still keep me in your esteem even after our… cooperation across the Narrow Sea has ended so abruptly, but I confess that… yes, indeed, Prince Rhaegar, Princess Lyanna, and Lord Eddard managed to keep a secret from me. Even the Stark siblings managed it for a little while, up until this morning when the word spread, of course. My birds were looking somewhere else, but cannot avoid seeing things that are thrown on their beaks."

Jorah had to admit that Varys had a way with words, even more than Tyrion. Cooperation. "Now I am even happier that I turned my back on you. And, since we have mentioned the incident, I would like to know: you never explained why you tried to kill Daenerys only to support her later."

"My dear prince, when I sent that pardon to you, did I not thereby implicitly warn you that someone would solve the Targaryen problem for once and for all? If I truly wanted her dead, I would have had her killed before you could even notice. And, of course, I had other options open, in case I had overestimated your wits and your romantic soul."

"What do you know about my soul?" Jorah growled, and Daenerys felt her queenly self very distracted by a sudden liveliness in her chest and between her legs.

"Your fondness for Lady Lyanna did not escape my birds' eyes, your love for Lady Lynesse is a legend, your …peculiar loneliness on Essos one of the factors that made me choose you for my plan."

"And yet we had to tell you about Jon."

"My eyes gaze southwards more than anything, as you should know, my prince. Pray tell me what my skills would bring in dealing with the Northern threats. Now, have you told your wife and queen about Ser Jaime and Lord Edmure?"

Daenerys jumped in to protect her husband's honour. "Of course my knight and husband has told me about it, Varys. Why the distrust?"

"I only wanted to be sure. I admit I prefer not to have eyes in your bedroom."

Luckily, no one picked up on that overture, although the temptation was there.

"Anyway," Varys reprised, "I can tell you what was it that did not let you trust Jaime Lannister completely, Prince Jorah. Ser Jaime hasn't told you that the 'major disagreement' with Queen Cersei and the other commanders was that they would not honour the pact agreed with Tyrion. Ser Jaime is the only Lannister man who has come north. He will bring some other men from the Westerlands, men who will follow him instead of Cersei. Lord Edmure will bring some men from the Riverlands. Boys and women will come, too, thanks to Jon's ravens that have - by now - spread the news. And there is also a sellsword coming to collect some debts from the Lannisters brothers. Some volunteers will come. But the army promised by Cersei will not come. The Golden Company will, to support Cersei and Euron. I admire your instinct, Prince Jorah. You could have been my greatest spy, really."

Sansa, Jon, Arya, Daenerys, Jorah, Tyrion, Davos, Missandei, and Lord Yohn exchanged first worried looks, then incredulous looks, and then finally looks of despair.

Tyrion grazed over his beard, looking down, visibly grimaced a few times, then finally broke the silence. "That treacherous, murderous, power-hungry, egocentric whore."

Jorah commented in a lower voice: "Said the whoring Hand of Queen Daenerys Targaryen, Mother of Dragons." Tyrion's look full of rage was his reply to the edgy jape.

Sansa took an optimistic stance. "When we march south after the War for the Dawn, I want to kill her myself. Having her killed by Arya or Jon will never sate my lust for revenge on that woman."

Daenerys didn't know what to say. When she had embarked on her journey as a khaleesi and queen, she had foreseen much, but the magic army of ice creatures and walking dead had already stepped beyond the realm of her imagination – an incredible feat for the Mother of Dragons and Unburnt -. That a queen of a part of the continent might desert the fight against this deadly threat to all humanity was baffling: what would she rule on? If the whole North and Targaryen armies were to be turned into wights, what would she do? Her own throne was never an easy achievement in her mind, but this was beyond the realm of 'possible', with Cersei's defection, and it almost broke her to realise it. "I thought I was so near. Now I am starting to think that I will never sit on the throne. Provided Jon still finds me worthy of it, there are so many uncertainties. If we survive this war… if he relinquishes the claim… if we win against Cersei and Euron too… Now I can see what my vision and my dream were about. I was so close to the throne, but I will never get it."

Davos wanted to know if the young royals were just sharing personal feelings or rather presenting their strategic assessments. "Does it mean that we are completely fucked, no chance against the Dead whatsoever, or is it just that there will be some resentment in the aftermath?"

Jon tried to gather some plausible figures. "I wouldn't know. The White Walkers have gathered… well, it was at least eight thousand years ago… how many human corpses have they come across one way or another since then? When did they actually start being active again? Even if it was just some hundreds of years, how many dead Free Folk, Brothers, animals were there beyond the Wall? Recently, several ranging parties have disappeared – all passed to the enemy. The battle of the Fist of the First Men, Hardhome: hundreds of new wights have been raised. As for them Walkers, during my first year in the Night's Watch we discovered that Craster, a man who lived beyond the Wall and helped the Watch, had survived for decades up there by giving up his sons to the Walkers, to have them made into some of them. They might have hundred thousand wights, and there might be hundreds of Walkers. Our chances, if they somehow pass the Wall, are meagre, it seems. We need fighters to light wights up or stab them with dragonglass, we need skilled swordsman… swordspeople to engage the Walkers. Many of them. Because if we cannot destroy them quickly, our fallen will be raised, and it will all be for nothing."

Grey Worm did not agree. "We can beat them. With discipline, organization, courage. We need a plan. Like Yunkai and Meereen. And good weapons. Many good weapons."

Whereas Daenerys and Jorah trusted and valued his words, agreeing with him completely, and Missandei's opinion was irremediably biased, Jon smiled at the young commander. "I guess many good weapons and discipline might just bring much," he admitted, remembering Stannis's intervention saving a ramble of ill-armed and even worse than ill-trained Brothers from the last attack. But it was just that: this time he could not fathom who could sweep in and save the day. Cersei and the Golden Company had other plans; the Dothraki and some other willing fighters from Essos had already followed his aunt, and no one had resorted to informing other Essosi cities or empires of the threat.

So that was it. His intuition struck as sudden and as bright as lightning. "We will write to the Free Cities of Essos, We will not hide anything. We have nothing to lose."

As he expected, Jorah was the one who raised doubts, rationally justified doubt. "And what do you expect them to think, or do, upon receiving tidings of a threat not of this world from an unknown source on a continent they believe to be inhabited by barbarians? Not to mention, of a dire state of our internal affairs?"

Jon had foreseen every single word his uncle would utter. "I care not for their jest, or their perceived superiority. I care not for any possible negative outcome of this communication attempt, for right now we are facing a grim fate for all of us, far worse than any possible repercussion we might suffer at the hands of any Essosi power. I only care for the possibility that at least some of them might believe us, or at least fear that, were our words true, nothing would assure them these creatures do not find their way to Essos and treat them as they treated us. I care that even the most distrustful Essosi might decide to watch Westeros more carefully, and maybe find out for themselves we were telling the truth, before all the continent is lost. I do not care for honour, for prestige, in seeking out an alliance; I only care for allowing hope to survive somewhere. I might not even see this hope come true." And he proceeded to tell them about the battle at Castle Black.

The whole room felt reassured. Jorah smiled sincerely at him; Daenerys was confused, and probably felt outsmarted. Jon found he didn't mind: his aunt surely needed some payback -; Grey Worm and Varys expressed their appreciation.

Sansa's lips curled into a leer. "I am glad to hear someone is finally taking my concerns about food and raw materials seriously."

Jon whitened. He obviously had thought more of numbers and strengths than of provisions, trade, and felt a little embarrassed. And also felt something else stirring at Sansa's clever and affectionate provocation – and smart guidance. He then resorted to his usual weapon: honesty. "I was thinking more about cooperation and fighting together, but I might throw in a few words about… other things as well".

"I am sure you will do." Jon wondered if she was on the verge of telling him he knew nothing. And the trouble was that he would have loved to hear her say that. But Sansa reprised, "After all, I think it rather difficult that they will send us soldiers, at least in time for the battle. What they might want to send us quickly is provisions, so that we can survive and they can fill their coffers. Provided the Iron Bank does not manipulate everyone in the Free Cities into boycotting the North."

That evening, Jon and Sansa were conversing and drinking some hot tea before retiring for the night. Their leaves had already been reused thrice, in order to set an example for the population gathering at and around Winterfell.

"Jon, do you think someone from the Free Cities will listen to us?"

"Uncle Jorah wasn't exactly optimistic. I talked to him in private after the meeting."

Sansa grinned. "For a Targaryen, I have to say that you and your dear aunt don't really have a talent for ruling. What would you two do without Prince Jorah and me? But I guess that is why your House produced more conquerors and commanders than statesman and administrators."

It was obvious that she was teasing and baiting him for fun. And she was having a good time doing that.

He was happy that the jokes on his identity didn't trigger a rather negative reaction as it did on the day of the row with Daenerys. And so was Sansa. "I am glad to see you feeling better today."

"I have discovered that having you tease me improves my mood."

"Brooding Jon Snow's mood, improving? How can this be?" Sansa asked in mock incredulity.

"So, now I am Jon Snow again to you."

"You know I am the lady here, so I decide what you are to me." She winked at him.

"Lady Sansa, you, winking? That cannot be borne!"

"If Jon Snow can be talked out of his brooding, so can Lady Sansa wink and tease."

"I like it when you tease me."

Sansa startled, but wouldn't be shaken out of her good mood. "Do you mean to tell me that you prefer it to when I outright chastise or argue with you?" She still wore that smirk.

Jon thought honestly about the answer. "I admire honesty above all. And I despise thinking of a world in which I would not get to hear you speaking to me anymore. I almost made a mess out of it all when I didn't listen to you. Give me ten rows a day, and promise me we will be sitting here again, in a few months, laughing at us."

For the first time in a long while, Sansa was touched. "That was a rather serious answer to my joke. And a really sweet one, Jon Maekar Targaryen."

"Don't call me that, please, Sansa!"

"You are already practicing what you preached, I see! You would make a good king, then."

"You know I don't care about the Iron Throne."

"Jon, don't throw away the freedom to choose. In this case, to choose for you, and for the people of Westeros as well. You don't know what might come."

In another room, another tender, comforting embrace took place, that of a woman who remembered that she had had different dreams than being a queen, and nevertheless could not avoid acting as one for the time being.

"It is so stupid. I have always wanted the throne. I even ordered you to heal, so that you would be by my side when I would rule the Seven Kingdoms. And now I am questioning everything. And then I question even my questioning. I know I want you, I would even like to have children. Then I remember that Jon might claim the throne, and I don't want him to. Then I think that it's so beautiful to have my nephew, Rhaegar's son, here with us. And then I think that, maybe, it would be so beautiful to just travel with you and our children, and leave the ruling to someone else. And then I ask myself if I would not just feel like a let-down, after all we have been through for the throne… oh, Jorah, I don't know. Am I going mad?"

Again with that doubt. "When the Dead will be destroyed, you will have the choice once more, Daenerys. And no, I don't think asking thoughtful questions qualifies as going mad."

"What choice do I have if Jon claims the throne?"

"Jon claiming the throne? Do you think that's what he wants?"

"The other day, he surely opposed me a lot."

"Because, dearest, after all, all of us were rather surprised to learn about how you dealt with the Tarlys, so I think he simply wanted to use his claim to try to, well, protect people from a possible threat that might or might not arise."

Daenerys was outraged to hear her knight and husband speak those words. "Jorah Mormont!"

Jorah laughed. "You always appreciated my honesty. I am not saying he truly needs to protect people. I am saying that, from where he stands, it makes sense. He is not the one laying here with you, her soul bared… as well as her skin…"

"If this is how you plan on discussing state matters, I think I will have to find a new position for you." Even in her attempt to sound like a responsible queen, though, Daenerys could not remain indifferent to Jorah's seductive tone, and has to fight to keep her head clear.

"Oh, I would be happy to try a new position," he replied rakishly, turning on his side and supporting his head on his hand.

A slap on his chest was the response. "Jorah!" However, the slap backfired, in a certain way, because Daenerys could not resist stroking his chest hair. And neither could he resist her doing that.

In the following days, people from the Freefolk and common people who wanted to join the preparation for the fight continued streaming to Winterfell. Then some of the Lords started arriving, as it was expected. Not that Jon's identity was truly a secret: as many had suspected, servants had spoken, and Jon's new 'habits' had not gone unnoticed either. In fact, Jon being Maekar Targaryen was usually referred to as "you know, the thing that should be secret", and then openly discussed. But, alas, the official announcement had yet to take place, and steps would have to be taken afterwards.

Lord Cerwyn and Lord Manderly were the first to arrive, and most predicted that the Umbers would be the last ones. Sansa, Arya and Jon had actually expected Lord Glover to be the first to arrive, but Jorah explained that Lord Glover was probably waiting for Lady Lyanna to travel together. "As we did almost all the time", commented Jorah.

Sansa hastened to explain: "I apologise, Prince Jorah, I had forgotten our most recent history. It should not happen."

"There is nothing to apologise for, Lady Sansa. I don't think the North ever found my first marriage as interesting as the second, or as it will find the third, undoubtedly. And the friendship with the Glovers was truly strengthened by my father's choices and dealings, after all, so I doubt the maesters insisted on you knowing about our new custom."

Daenerys felt curious. "So, Lord Glover… who is he to you?"

"My first wife's cousin."

"Are you nervous about meeting him and your own cousin again, my bear?" Daenerys lowered her voice, not wanting the Starks to intrude on such a delicate matter for Jorah.

Jorah turned to her, his eyes a little sad, and admitted that he was. Lord Cerwyn and Lord Manderly had been quite kind to him – similarly to Lord Royce, they felt that help was needed, and that it was no time for resentment rooted in the past. A stance that Jorah and Tyrion suggested Daenerys to imitate when meeting the Kingslayer again.

Surprisingly, the following group to arrive was a mixed representative of people, most of them expected, some of them completely unexpected.

Jaime Lannister's and Edmure Tully's forces had gathered a few willing men from the Westerlands and the Riverlands, as well as voluntary fighters who had made their way to the North following the Starks' ravens. Among these voluntary fighters, there was a familiar face.

"I am quite sure Queen Cersei had something she wanted to give me, but I am also quite sure it was not a castle. I think it was rather a spike. In my head. In my severed head." Thus Bronn had justified his apparition to Jaime Lannister, and thus he justified his presence to the Starks and the Targaryens as well. "And we had the pleasure to make the acquaintance of Lord and Lady Reed and his daughter. Lord Reed and his daughter have travelled with us, along with some fighters the crannogmen will put at our disposal – we both agreed that the Neck cannot be left unguarded. And, well, there is also someone I would have never thought to see again."

The Starks, the Targaryens and Tyrion looked at Jaime expectantly to hear the name that, apparently, had surprised him so much. Meanwhile, Lord Reed and young Meera emerged from the mass of foot soldiers and riders they could see from the gate, and entered the walls, followed by two other people, a young lad and a woman.

Sansa was the first to welcome the guests and allies. "Lord Howland, I am honoured to make your acquaintance at last, as are my siblings. Your presence here was most needed." Why the Reeds had broken their isolationist customs, she could only imagine, but it was still a rather curious and extraordinary event to witness.

"Lady Sansa, I knew I was needed. Even without your ravens, I was aware the time had come. Jon, I hadn't seen you since you were a baby, when I even held you, sometimes. Forgive me, I should actually call you 'Your Grace', but the memory of you during our travel from Dorne is still very much alive in my mind."

"I guess you had to promise something, too, but to Lord Eddard instead, not to my mother" Jon remarked.

"That's the truth of it."

"Then I thank you, Lord Howland, for without your honour I would not be alive today, I suppose."

"It was only due, your Grace."

"For the time being, 'Jon' will do, Lord Howland."

Neither Jaime nor Bronn could make out what this all was about, but did not feel like interrupting the Starks to ask for explanations was the right thing to do. Probably – they thought -, not everybody had learned of Jon's speech at the Dragonpit, or probably there was something they ignored about Northern customs. But they were sure they would learn all there was to learn by sitting in a tavern that night.

Lord Howland reprised, "I suppose some of you remember my daughter Meera from some harvest feast, except for Bran who has travelled with her for a long time and already knows her well" Then he turned his eyes to the Targaryens.

Jorah noticed, and felt it was his time to speak. "Lord Howland, it has been a very long time." He offered his forearm for him to grasp in their manly handshake.

"Jorah Mormont. I see the years have been kind to you, as has been fate too, from what I had heard about you. You still look strong as at Harrenhal, maybe even fiercer. And this beautiful woman must be your lady wife and queen, Daenerys Targaryen."

"I thank you for your kindness. Indeed, this is Queen Daenerys Stormborn. And this is her Hand, Tyrion Lannister." After witnessing the Reeds' slight bows of acknowledgement, Jorah continued: "And who might this young man be?"

"May I introduce Edric Dayne, former squire to Lord Beric Dondarrion, and Lord of Starfall?"

Among raised eyebrows, Daenerys spoke first. "You are the Lord of House Dayne? When I first reached Westeros, I was told that the Lord had gone missing during the war. I am immensely grateful to the Gods that it isn't so."

"I apologise, Your Grace. I had gone to war with Lord Beric, was then captured by the Lannisters when he died – I mean, the first time -. They wanted to keep me as hostage, then I was able to flee, and joined the Brotherhood for a while, until someone offered to follow me to Greywater Watch to keep training and to be protected. I was happy that some of our entourage were so attached to our family, otherwise I would not have this!" Edric reached for the sword pommel that was popping up from behind his head, unsheathed it, and showed to the unbelieving watchers the wonder of Dawn, the pride of House Dayne.

Jorah looked at Jon in an unspoken question, then turned back to Edric and asked: "and how do you fare with it, lad?"

"I cannot say I am as skilled as Arthur was, but I can handle it."

Jorah smiled encouragingly.

A while later, the military minds gathered to discuss the most boring issues related to the war: Jon, Jorah, Jaime, Bronn, Edmure, Davos, Grey Worm, Gendry, Arya, Brienne, Beric, Tormund, and Lord Royce all met in the armory.

Jon led the conversation. "I am glad to see so many Valyrian steel weapons converging on Winterfell. Hidden heirlooms, stolen treasures… whatever they are, we need them for this war. We have the Tarlys' Heartsbane in Jorah Mormont's hands, we had Brienne's, Oathkeeper" and Jaime's eyes lit up, "we have Arya's dagger, several arakhs among the Dothraki, and now you, Ser Jaime. I also know that Dawn might be something different from , but as far as we know, it is not Valyrian steel, and we have yet to prove if the weapon can be effective against the Walkers."

"The forging of dragonglass weapons is going on well," Gendry added.

"Are people making special requests? It's very important that people can fight with a weapon they are skilled with. The Unsullied – but Grey Worm might be able to tell us more – will want dragonglass spikes for their spears, and daggers. Many of the Mormonts will probably ask for axes, hunting spears, maces…" Jorah commented.

"The Mormonts are left with very few fighters. Lady Lyanna told me a while ago that there were some young boys and girls who might have ended their training in time," Jon completed.

"The Unsullied have started receiving their new spikes for the spears, and daggers. They are happy," Grey Worm informed the group.

Jon added: "Sansa had already started the rationing of food and wood before I went south, not to mention oversawing the stuffing of armor with wool or pelt. She has done an admirable job so far. However, wood gathering is essential also as a weapon. The same goes for tar. Those who have already fought them remember how it's done."

Tormund intervened: "Fire and dragonglass for the wights, Valyrian Steel and dragonglass for the Walkers. Killing a Walker will also destroy the wights he has turned."

Beric repeated his idea from the expedition: "I want to try and go for the Walkers. I think the Lord of Light has brought me back for a reason, and this might be it."

Lord Royce commented: "If I understood correctly, we will have to tell everyone with a Valyrian steel weapon to try and make for a walker."

Jorah had a few doubts: "It certainly is the most strategic decision, but we will have to check if it's also the wisest. The Walkers have superhuman speed and strength, and many other otherworldly abilities. Those who try to kill them will have to show skills that match the nobility of their weapon. Otherwise, it would be best to have them entrusted to fighters that are more skilled. Besides, we will have to see when they turn up: they usually send the wights first."

Lord Cerwyn guffawed. "I cannot see people giving up their precious heirloom."

Jon had no doubts: "I will have Sansa and Daenerys agree on strict martial law. Whoever refuses to obey will be beheaded, their corpses burned immediately afterwards. We will not have people put their petty jealousies and pride over humanity's survival. Jorah, you can assure me I have your support in this, can you?"

"Of course, Jon."

"I have also already written Lord Lyonel Corbray that his Lady Corbray will not ornate his fireplace for long if he doesn't swing it at the Walkers or have someone swing it at them in his stead before they knock on his door," Jon completed. "Besides, most crannogmen stayed in the Neck and are preparing to defend their position from attacks either from the north, or from the south. I guess we will also have to tell people to flee to the Neck if Winterfell falls."

Royce and Cerwyn whitened. "Can Winterfell fall?"

Jon and Tormund exchanged a few stares, then Jon explained. "The wights can jump, crawl, climb, dig, and slither. It's not a matter of if, but a matter of when. And the Walkers have superhuman powers as well, the scope of which might still be unknown. The only thing that might protect Winterfell from them entering might be some kind of magic, but Bran admitted he does not know enough to do anything truly meaningful, and neither was he able to check if there is some spell protecting us somehow. I would not count on it. We know that Brandon the Builder must have done something, same as he did to the Wall, but if they pass the Wall… who is to tell if they will take the castle as well?"

"And this is the point. They are marching on the Wall, but what will they do when they reach it?"

"We don't know it. But if they are marching, there must be a reason. And I think the reason is that they have discovered how to cross it, or bring it down."

Bronn was the one who spelled it out. "I don't like it. I don't like it one bit. What about the dragons?"

Jorah explained: "They will be very important for burning wights and lighting up trenches and anything we need to keep burning. We are rather sure that the White Walkers and their King will not be damaged by their fire, although we might still try. At least, Jon and Tormund tell us that fire could not stop them at Hardhome. I also suppose we might use them for scouting and spying on the enemy, although we will have to keep clear from possible long-range arrows, lances, spears, and javelins."

Jon added: "They might even have spells, spells they haven't tried the last time. We will have to be careful."

Bronn was rather curious. "And who is going to ride the remaining dragon? The black one is the Targaryen chit's one, I gather."

Jorah arched his eyebrow. "Yes, Drogon is Queen Daenerys's. As for Rhaegal, I guess Jon might try to ride him."

Several astonished stares were directed at the knight. "What? I know we have not made it official, but I know you all know he is Rhaegar's son."

Jaime had a different opinion. "But you, Ser Jorah, have known them from their birth, or at least it was thus reported to King's Landing."

Jon smirked at Jorah. "True."

Jorah did not agree. "I am most definitely not riding a dragon!"

Jon counterattacked: "Oh, I think you are!"

Arya started to laugh in a loud, unladylike manner that he had only seen in taverns so far.

Jorah could only come up with the most logical way to face the matter. "We will both approach the dragons, and see if they accept one of us."

Upon crossing the courtyard, Jorah noticed first Sansa on the gallery, and Jon running up to reach her. The two of them certainly had the most peculiar dynamic, and he was rather curious about how it would all turn out. Then he noticed Daenerys coming towards him, escorted by Missandei and an Unsullied. His wife did not look happy.

"Oh, Jorah, here you are."

"Daenerys, has something happened? How was your training today?"

"The training was awful. There are boys and girls who can use a sword and a mace better than me."

"Dearest, you don't need to be the best swordswoman in the Seven Kingdoms. It's only to give us all a little more respite and hope, in case you fall from the dragon or find yourself briefly isolated. Or even in the future, to feel safer. We are human, and we might fail you."

"I know."

"Then, why are you so upset, khaleesi?"

Daenerys took his arm, only smiling weakly at her favourite title. "I don't know, I just missed you so much. I wanted to see you. Maybe… maybe it's this fear that's taking hold of me, the fear that you might not… survive."

"Daenerys, look at me." She looked up, and he noticed how she seemed the scared young woman he had met that day in Pentos instead of the queen of the last years. "What good is it if you grate and torture yourself with such thoughts? Shouldn't we live these days or weeks we have before the battle in serenity and happiness?"

Daenerys stroked his arm. "We probably should."