[Castle Black - Jon Snow's Room]

Longclaw was lying on a table. Dolorous Edd lifted and admired it, then turned to Jon who was putting some items in a bag.

"Where you gonna go?" Edd asked.

"South."

"What are you gonna do?"

"Get warm." He quipped, smiling.

Edd placed Longclaw on the table. "I was with you at Hardhome. We saw what's out there. We know it's coming here. How can you leave us now?"

"I did everything I could. You know that."

"You swore a vow."

"Aye, I pledged my life to the Night's Watch. I gave my life."

"For all nihts to come."

"They killed me, Edd! My own brothers. You want me to stay here after that?"

A single horn sounds outside, causing both men to look to the doorway.

"Riders approaching!" One man announced.

"Open the gate!" Another shouted.

The southern gates opened and Sansa, Brienne, Podrick and Theon entered the courtyard on horseback.

The Night's Watch and the Wildlings all watched them, Tormund staring intently at Brienne.

The quartet dismount from their horses as Jon Snow and Dolorous Edd emerged onto a balcony overlooking the courtyard.

Sansa slowly spun around until she and Jon locked eyes. Jon descended from the balcony and walked to Sansa. They stared at each other, Jon letting Sansa take the lead, only embracing her when she leapt into his arms.

Once they pulled away, he noticed the people behind her.

Two of them were unfamiliar, but the last.

"Theon," he whispered, his eyes darkening as he stalked over to his father's former ward, grabbing by his tunic. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't murder you right here and now."

Sansa rushed over to them. "Jon, stop! He didn't do it! Bran and Rickon are alive. He didn't kill them."

"How do you know that?"

"Because he told me."

Jon's head spun to Sansa. "And you believe him? He betrayed our family, our brother."

"I know, I know. But he is the only reason I made it here. He was subjected to considerable torture at the hands of Roose Bolton's bastard. But, he helped me escape. If not, I would still be subject to Ramsay's abuse. "

Jon turned back to Theon, who he still had in his grasp. "Consider yourself lucky. My sister is the only reason you're alive right now. But, if you step one foot out of line, I will not hesitate to throw you off the Wall. Do you understand?"

Theon nodded meekly and Jon let go of his tunic, throwing him back, causing him to falter before regaining his balance.

Indeed, much had happened in Jon's time at the wall. It appeared the roles between he and Theon were reversed. Where Theon was once bold and and brash, openly mocking him for his parentage, Jon, who had been quiet and sullen, was now fierce and unyielding.

Jon invited Sansa back to his chambers and the two were sitting by the fire.

Sansa lifted a bowl to her lips and drank from it. "This is good soup. Do you remember those kidney pies Old Nan used to make?"

"With the peas and onions?"

"Mmm."

"We nevr should have left Winterfell."

"Don't you wish we could go back to the day we left? I want to scream at myself, "Don't go, you idiot."

"How could we know?"

"I spent a lot of time thinking about what as ass I was to you. I wish I could change everything."

"We were children."

"I was awful, just admit it."

Jon chuckled. "You were occasionally awful. I'm sure I can't have been great fun. Alwys sulking in the corner while the rest of you played."

"Can you forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive."

"Forgive me."

"All right. All right, I forgive you."

Sansa laughed, then held out her hand for Jon's horn of ale and he gave it to her. She took a sip before coughing.

Jon laughed. "You'd think after thousands of years, the Night's Watch would have learned how to make a good ale."

"Where will you go?"

"Where will we go? If I don't watch over you, Father's ghost will come back and murder me."

"Where will we go?"

"I can't stay here, not after what happened."

"There's only one place we can go. Home." Sansa told him.

"Should we tell the Boltons to pack up and leave?"

"We'll take it back from them."

"I don't have an army."

"How many wildlings did you save?"

"They didn't come here to serve me."

"They owe you their lives." She stood and walked to a table, placing her bowl down on it. "You think they'll be safe here if Roose Bolton remains Warden of the North?"

"Sansa."

"Winterfell is our home. It's ours and Arya's and Bran's and Rickon's. Wherever they are, it belongs to our family. We have to fight for it."

"I'm tired of fighting." He stood and turned to face Sansa. "It's all I've done since I left home. I've killed brothers of the Night's Watch. I've killed wildlings. I've killed men that I admire. I hanged a boy younger than Bran. I fought and I lost."

"If we don't take back the North, we'll nevr be safe. I want you to help me. But I'll do it myself if I have to."

Later that night when nearly everyone had gone to bed, Davos found himself unable to sleep.

He was still thinking of Shireen. Where was she?

In an effort to tire himself, he made the journey to the top of the Wall.

Only, when he arrived, he discovered he was not alone.

Up ahead, stood the Greyjoy boy, peering over the edge.

"You're not thinking of jumping, are you?" Davos asked, startling the man.

"I've tried," Theon responded. "Maybe I should take Jon up on his offer. Have him throw me off the wall. I can't even die right."

"He's angry. He's been through a lot here. He had already made his vows when the War of The Five Kings began. Imagine knowing your father was imprisoned and later executed as a traitor. Or that your brother was mqrching to free him and your sisters, but you couldn't aid him because of vows you had sworn, only to learn of your brother's murder at the hands of men who were meant to be loyal to him."

"I was just trying to prove myself to my father," Theon muttered.

"Yes, but that won't bring Robb Stark back."

"No, it won't." Theon agreed. "I already told Sansa I don't want to be forgiven. I know I am not worthy of it."

"Are any of us truly worthy of forgiveness?" Davos asked. "The truly good and kind are few and far between. Like Princess Shireen. We live in a world fueled by vengeful, bloodthirsty, and ambitious men and women. But, with all the evil, there is also good. The only thing necessary for evil to triumph, is for good to do nothing. So, tell me, will you do nothing?"

"I am not good."

"I don't believe that. When I look at you, I see a young boy, forevr marred by the tragedy of losing his brothers and being sent to a foreign land. A prisoner in all but name. But, the Starks were honourable-"

"And I betrayed them."

"Aye, you did. To gain the approval of your father. Something you had been seeking, even if you didn't know it until that moment."

"There is nothing I could do to make up for what I've done."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Best not to dwell on it. Even if you don't wish to be forgiven, there are still things you can do that are worthy of forgiveness."

With that, Davos turned around and headed back downstairs, leaving the young Greyjoy to his thoughts.

The next day, most of them had gathered in the mess hall; Jon, Sansa, Brienne, Edd, and Tormund.

Sansa, Jon, Brienne, Tormund, and Dolorous Edd were eating at a table.

Sansa looked at the meat on her fork. Jon, Edd, and Tormund ate vigorously. Brienne looked around at the men eating. Tormund stared intently at Brienne, who looked away and he smiled.

Edd noticed their interaction. "Sorry about the food. It's not what we're known for." He told Sansa.

"That's all right. There are more important things."

A Night's Watchman entered the room and held out a scroll to Jon. "A letter for you, Lord Commander."

"I'm not Lord Commander anymore." Jon took the letter and the man left. He noted the seal of House Bolton, opening the scroll and beginning to read it. "To the traitor and bastard Jon Snow. Yo allowed thousands of wildlings past the Wall. You have betrayed your own kind. You have betrayed the North. Winterfell is mine, bastard. Come and see. Your brother Rickon is in my dungeon." He paused, looking at Sansa. "His direwolf's skin is on my floor. Come and see. I want my bride back. Send her to me, bastard, and I will not trouble you or your wildling lovers. Keep her from me and I will ride north and slaughter every wildling man, woman and babe living under your protection. You will watch as I skin them living. You-"

"Go on." Sansa encouraged.

"It's just more of the same."

Jon tried to put the letter away, but Sansa took it and continued reading.

"You will watch as my soldiers take turns raping your sister. You will watch as my dogs your wild little brother. Then I will spoon your eyes from their sockets and let my dogs do the rest. Come and see. Ramsay Bolton, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North."

"Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North." Jon scoffed.

"His father's dead. Ramsay killed him. And now he has Rickon."

"We don't know that."

"Yes, we do."

"How many men does he have in his army?" Tormund asked

"I heard him say 5,000 once when he was talking about Stannis's attack." Sansa replied.

"How many do you have?" Jon asked Tormund.

"That can mqrch and fight? 2,000. The rest are children and old people."

Jon sighed. His death at the hand of men who were supposed to be his brothers impacted him greatly.

Now, he was consistently second guessing whom he could trust.

"You're the son of the last true Warden of the North. Northern families are loyal. They'll fight for you if you ask." Sansa grabbed Jon's hand. "A monster has taken our home and our brother. We have to go back to Winterfell and save them both."

Jon nodded.

And they would. Hopefully not dying in the process.