Six months later...

I arrived with Jon and Arya at the gates of Winterfell. With all the battles I had fought I failed to realize that it hadn't been that long since I was last in Winterfell, though I must admit it did feel like more than almost four years.

As soon as we rode in a nurse covered in blood approached Jon. "My King!" She cried out.

Jon, Arya and I quickly leapt off our horses. "What's wrong?" Jon asked.

"I-It's Lady Edda. She's been giving birth all day... B-but the maester didn't warn us. He didn't know she was having twins!"

Jon, Arya and I exchanged fearful glances.

We all ran into the Keep, following the nurse. It seemed like forever before we found the room she was in. We could hear screams coming from inside.

The three of us barged into the room to discover that the screams were not Edda's... They were Sansa's.

Her arms and dress stained with her sister's blood Sansa held her sister's lifeless body in her arms, crying in agony. Arya dropped her sword, needle, in shock. Bran Stark, who had arrived weeks beforehand, sat on his wheelchair next to the bed and held her dead hand. 

I fell to my knees in grief as Jon went to comfort Sansa, pulling her into his arms as she cried into his vest. "Sh-she said she could only survive one..." Sansa sobbed, "I shouldn't have let her have them. I shouldn't have let her give birth again!"

"It's not your fault..." Jon comforted her.

"I should've saved her when I had the chance..." Arya's lip quivered as tears slowly rained down her cheeks, "I should've saved them all before the Freys slaughtered them."

The tears that blurred my vision stopped me at first from seeing the nurse that approached me with the two babies. They'd approached Arya before me, but she jerked away from them, shocked and breathing heavily before storming out of the room in a sorrowful rafe. I was still visibly shaken myself but I took the two of them into my arms. One black-haired boy and one red-headed girl. They both cried with life.

"S-She said she wanted to name the girl Jeyne," Sansa coughed out her sobs, "And the boy Jon."

I looked down at them both. "Jon and Jeyne."

"My lady," one nurse told Sansa, "You must let go of her-"

"No." Sansa cried, "No, it's unfair, it's so unfair! I was supposed to keep her safe! I was supposed to..." she couldn't speak through her sobs.

Jon's tears hurt him as he gasped for air, "She was too young-"

"She was going to turn twenty-one in three days," Bran's voice hitched, "I-I'd gotten her a present already." He looked over at me, "Who's going to take care of the children?"

A sense of duty hit me. Looking down at their little faces I cleared my throat. "I will."

The three Starks looked at me.

"I owe her my life," I explained, "The least I could do is protect her children in her absence."

Sansa continued to cry, dragging her fingers over Edda's eyelids and closing her grey eyes forever.

Thirteen years later...

The trumpets of the Dreadfort blasted to announce the arrival of Theon Greyjoy, the sworn protector the young Boltons. I'd just come back from Kings Landing where I finished arranging the betrothal of Prince Daemond Targaryen to the eldest daughter of Edda Stark and Ramsay Bolton. As the gates of the Dreadfort opened the five orphaned children of House Bolton received me by standing side by side surrounded by their loyal servants.

I dismounted my horse and walked up to the children, who honored me by considering me their father. Lady Erika Bolton, the gentle hearted girl, was the first to break the formality of this reencounter by throwing her arms around me. "It's good to see you, Pa," she held me close.

Willard, Roderick, Jon, and Jeyne joined the embrace soon after. Little Jon exclaimed "You made it here in time! I knew you would!"

"Of course!" I messed with his hair, "I told you I'd never miss any of your birthdays."

Our happy group of six found our way to the Family Hall, where the table was by the warm fire. Winter had come again but it had come harmlessly. The light snow outside was a reminder of the Long Night, and who the real enemy was.

As soon as I sat down I was hit by a wave of questions.

"How was the Capital?" Willard asked curiously.

"Did the King accept the betrothal?" Erika asked nervously.

"Is it true that they've rebuilt the Sept?" Roderick tilted his head as he pushed back his red hair.

"When will you take us to King's Landing?" Jon begged.

"Nanny said that King's Landing is full of killers, did you meet any?" Jeyne's eyes lit up.

"Children," I laughed, exhausted by my long ride "One at a time." I turned to Will first, "The Capital is almost completely rebuilt. And it stinks less than it used to, I hear." Then to Roddy "The Sept is completely restored to it's former glory."

The two eldest boys exchanged glances of glee. "It must be seen then!" Roderick, who loved architecture, exclaimed.

"And we will see it..." I glanced over at Erika, "When your sister marries the Prince."

Shy Erika smiled in delight. Jeyne laughed at her, "Erika is going to marry the prince! Erika is going to marry the prince!" She made smoochy noises. Jon laughed along before Willard silenced them.

"As for Jeyne's question..." I leaned over towards the little red headed girl. She looked way too similar to her mother, yet she was nothing like her. She rarely showed affection or emotion. She enjoyed solitude. And she had the same...likes as her father. "Everyone in King's Landing is a killer. King's Landing is a city full of liars, thieves, and killers."

She smirked at that. The same smirk her father Ramsay Bolton used to smirk. It brought back my worst memories. But I tried to ignore it. Jeyne is an innocent little girl, I thought, she would never hurt anyone. She was good despite her nature.

"Off you go now!" I stood up, "The name day feast commences at sundown, and your aunt Sansa is supposed to be visiting!"

Jon gasped in delight, "Aunt Sansa!" He who, looked almost exactly like his father, was nothing like him. He was his mother reborn.

Jeyne repeated less happily "Aunt Sansa..."

Willard, the eldest brother and most respected sibling, stood up. "Come," he insisted, "Let us leave."

Erika led Jeyne out as Roderick led Jon out, but I asked Willard to stay for a moment.

"What is it?" Will asked me as soon as we were alone.

I grabbed his hand gently, stained with blood. "Don't think I don't notice these things, my boy," I warned.

Willard nervously put his hand in his pocket. "Y-you know the impulses I have. The temper I was born with."

"You can control your temper, Willard," I clutched his arms, "You need to find another way to deal with it. This is exactly why Dianne Tully is afraid to marry you-"

He pushed my hands off him. "Then what am I to do?"

"Pull. Yourself. Together," I explained. "I am going to be dead one day, and then you will be the head of House Bolton. You cannot successfully be the Lord of the Dreadfort if you flay an animal alive after every inconvenience! The other Lords will think you mad-"

"Like my father, correct?"

I held my tongue.

Willard looked around him. A habit, really, because he knew his other siblings weren't around him. They weren't supposed to talk about their father.

"I understand your concern, my Lord," he mumbled, "Ramsay Bolton was not a good man. And you are trying to make sure I don't turn out like him. But I have compassion. I have love."

"So did he." I confessed. Willard was taken by this. "Everyone says he loved your mother more than anything in this world-"

The Bolton Heir raised his voice "You told us he was heartless-"

"Because I wanted to make him look like a complete monster. And..." I swallowed at the memory of Lord Bolton "As monster as he was, the only thing that made him a man was your mother."

Willard rubbed his jaw, "So what are you saying? That I'm a monster?"

"You're a good lad. And you've a good heart," I explained, "Just don't let yourself get carried away."

Will paused for a second before nodding. "You are right. I'm sorry, father." I thanked the Old Gods, the New, and the Drowned God that he'd been born with reason in his mind. "But I do not think I'm the one whom you should be concerning yourself with."

For 'some reason' I already knew who he was going to talk about. "Jeyne?"

"Roddy and I had to pry her off a stable boy. She claimed he was 'disrespecting her', but it was clear the boy had no ill intentions. He tripped and fell with a bucket of feces in his hands and the bucket fell at Jeyne's feet."

I placed my hand on my forehead, "What have I done? I've failed. I've failed your mother-"

"You have not!" Willard insisted, "Jeyne has been a menace from the moment she was born. You educated her well, father, there's nothing you could do-"

"She must've found something out about Ramsay Bolton." I concluded, "She asks me all the time. The girl is a fanatic."

"There's really nothing more we can do," Will sighed, "She's not allowed anywhere alone. She's not allowed to eat with a knife. She's not allowed to have any animals near her... At least I can control myself half of the time."

I buried my face in my hands momentarily. Raising these children was so exhausting. I just hoped that somewhere the spirit of Edda Stark was cheering me on.

"If it makes you feel any better remember that Jeyne and I are the only disappointments." Will joked.

I rolled my eyes, "You're not a disappointment... Come now, it's time to get ready for Jon and Jeyne's nameday celebration."

***

Willard Bolton

Erika Bolton

Roderick Bolton

Jon Bolton

Jeyne Bolton