Ashes of Winter: The Stark Revival and the Game of Thrones

Winterfell 303 AC

Rickon Stark

"He is not your brother, Rickon…"

So many conflicting emotions battled through him. Anger, despair, sadness, confusion.

Betrayal.

Those words burned his mind, his heart, like that arrow that ended his life many moons ago. It wasn't true. It couldn't be. Bran was lying and Rickon couldn't understand how he could be so cruel. Was he jealous about his relationship with Jon? Was it because he didn't get to spend time with him as Rickon did?

No, Bran liked to be left alone. Yet he couldn't acknowledge his cutting words as the truth.

"He is the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen." Bran insisted, his emotionless gaze boring into him.

Rickon thought he might be dreaming. It might have been a nightmare, all of it. Him being King in the North while he knew nothing about ruling, seeing his family only to feel more and more disappointment as days went by, Jon abandoning them when they needed him the most, leaving him to go solve the Dragon Queen's problems, then this… It was either a very long nightmare or he was still dead and stuck in some kind of hell. For why else would Bran, his brother, the person who was supposed to protect him the most, torture him so?

"Why are you doing this?" he managed to ask.

"I can't keep it to myself anymore. It is too much for one person to hold onto."

"So you thought dumping your nonsense on me would be better? Are you mad?" he said somehow without shouting.

"Only you can help me, Rickon. Only you can tell Jon the truth and get him to stay away from Daenerys. Our cousin -"

"OUR BROTHER!" Rickon exploded. "Jon is our brother! You fucking piece of shit! He's our brother, you hear me?"

"I'm sorry, Rickon, but he is not. He…"

Rickon wouldn't hear any more of this nonsense. He needed to make Bran stop talking, to make him stop saying those words. Nothing else mattered to him at that moment. All his anger and his resentment were focused on the source of his pain. This person, this thing that was devoid of emotion needed to feel it as Rickon did.

Bran gasped as his little brother lifted him from the chair and threw him on the ground.

"Do not do something you'll regret later, Rickon," Bran warned, only making him even more furious.

"The only thing I'd ever regret would be not to have done this sooner, you emotionless fucker!"

The first punch must have hurt him, as did the second, but the expression on Bran's face was enough for Rickon to feel vindicated. He was feeling it. Finally, he could see Bran feel something. Whether it was the pain of his punches or the fear of what Rickon was capable of, the boy king didn't care as long as that emotionless stare was gone. Soon, far too soon for Rickon's liking, something changed in Bran's demeanor as he seemed to relax under his hold. Fear took hold of Rickon's body as he saw the spark in Bran's eyes dim and he feared he'd gone too far. He wanted to hurt Bran, not to kill him. Jon and the rest of the family would never forgive him if he did.

Then he heard it, the cawing and the flap of the wings around him. Looking to his left he saw a raven fly over to one of the branches of the Heart Tree, and he lifted his head, a shiver running through his spine when he saw the rest of them.

Their eyes were white and menacing. He knew those eyes, had seen them more than once, and he quickly released his hold on Bran's limp body.

"Bran…" he whispered while taking a step back and taking in the sheer number of ravens that were now staring at him.

He felt Ghost's presence beside him. Rather than comforting him, the threatening snarl on the Direwolf's face as Ghost looked to the ravens made him fear more for their safety.

"Run!" one of the ravens seemed to caw at him, its cry soon echoed by the others and Rickon knew at this moment that he would get hurt here and possibly, very badly.

Run!

He took another step back, distancing himself from his brother as much as he could.

"Bran!" he called, his heart beating wildly in his chest while the noise got louder.

"Bran, I didn't mean to…"

Runrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrun!

As one, they flew towards him, and he stumbled as he felt the first one pecking at his face.

He couldn't see, couldn't breathe. He could only scream his brother's name and pray he would stop hurting him.

He woke up yelling and screaming and was soon caught in a familiar embrace.

"It's over, Rickon." Arya's soothing voice tried to reassure him. "It's just a bad dream."

"No, it isn't. It happened. It was real." he sobbed.

"Were you dreaming about what happened in the Godswood?" Arya asked worriedly and he nodded, feeling the weight of anxiety upon his throat. "Do you want to talk about it?"

This time he shook his head. He wanted to forget the whole ordeal. Forget Bran's cutting words, what they implied, and how his older brother had used his power to hurt him. He knew it was somewhat his fault for attacking him first, but the shame he felt for his moment of lashing out was drowned by the anguish that took over his body when he thought of Bran's ability. All the stories he was told about wargs and skinchangers by Osha when they were on the road, and since then by Tormund as he got closer to him, had made him aware of what Bran could do to a certain extent. As had what he had witnessed when they were younger, but never had he thought he would use his power against his own kin.

"Rickon…" Arya sighed loudly. "It's been days, and neither you nor Bran -"

"I don't want to talk about Bran," he said, fearing he was being spied on by his brother.

He felt silly, looking at every corner of the room to see if a mouse or even smaller animal was there watching him. Ghost was doing the same and Rickon was grateful for his protection. It was something he hated, to not feel safe in the only room he'd thought of as a sanctuary, the one he actually managed to think of as home. Though knowing what he knew now, Winterfell would never feel the same to him again.

He wanted to tell Arya, to tell Sansa, to tell anybody to be careful with Bran, but he couldn't. He wouldn't risk them being attacked as he had been, nor would he risk Bran saying to them what he knew about Jon.

Thinking about that made Rickon want to tear up even more. He still couldn't believe what Bran had said, but he also knew his brother enough to know he wouldn't say anything he could not prove. The concern Bran said he had for Jon choosing the other side of his family rather than them made Rickon afraid. Would Jon abandon them once he'd learned the truth? Was that the reason why Bran didn't tell him he was not their father's son? If so then why would he tell Rickon and not Jon?

Only you can tell Jon the truth and tell him to stay away from Daenerys, brother, it has to be you to do so.

How could he do that? How could he risk losing the only person he trusted with his life by telling him he was not his brother? How could Bran think it would be a good idea to let him know?

Jon would be as devastated as Rickon was at that moment. Arya was only there because of Jon. And Sansa… He couldn't imagine what Sansa could do with that information, she who was already calling Jon their half-brother. It would crush his family and once again Rickon cursed Bran for telling him.

He needed to talk to someone, anyone, but he couldn't. He needed guidance but couldn't trust anybody with that secret. Tormund was a Free Folk and a man who struggled to understand the politics of Westeros. When Arya had told him of the issues between the Starks and the Targaryens and why the North was wary of Daenerys, he had just shrugged. He'd then said that it was in the past and that they should get over it. That they needed Daenerys to fight against the army of the dead. So just as much as they did with the quarrels between the Night's Watch and the Free Folk, they too needed to put their quarrels behind them. If only it would be so easy.

Davos would suggest something nonsensical like an alliance with the Dragon Queen, which was what Bran had warned him about and what he had said would lead to the end of Jon.

Will it, though? he wondered, Could it?.

"I wish I could see the future…" he whispered against Ghost's fur.

"The future's not set in stone, brother. Not even Bran can find a definite path, and he knows a lot of things." Arya retorted and Rickon found himself contemplating his sister's response.

Bran was spending all of his days in the Godswood, touching the Heart Tree to find answers to his own questions about the future. Rickon had had green dreams too, so would he be able to ask the Old Gods to show him the future? To make him dream of it like he used to be able to do?

"I need to go to the Godswood."

"What?"

"I need to go, Arya."

"Rickon, after what happened…"

"You can come with me if you like. I need to try something and I need to try it now!" he stressed, looking at Arya with determination in his eyes.

"Will you at least tell me what exactly you need to try?"

"I need to dream. Ever since I got… Ever since the ravens' thing, I only dream about it when I close my eyes."

"And you think you'll -"

"Let me try, please…"

Arya stood silent for an excruciating moment before agreeing, though with the condition of her, Tormund, Nessa, Brienne, and Podric all coming with him. While Rickon thought it was too much, he agreed to his sister's request and walked up to the Godswood with his now even closer guard.

Flashes of what had happened here came to his mind when he entered the grove. The remains of the attack were still visible, some carcasses of ravens and numerous feathers were still on the ground. Rickon felt better when Ghost as if reading his thoughts and feeling his discomfort, grabbed them and dumped them into the pool next to the heart tree. He didn't realize he was holding his sister's hand until she squeezed his own gently.

"We can leave if you want to, Rickon." she said softly.

"No. I have to do this." he said determinedly.

He walked closer to the Heart Tree, its carved face seemingly looking at him with sadness. He stood in front of the tree with his hands clenched, not knowing what to do nor how to proceed. Should he kneel? Pray? Ask for guidance? He scoffed and shook his head, feeling ridiculous. Why did he think this would be a good idea? If only he could get a sign of what to do.

A light breeze surrounded him and he felt himself taking two steps toward the tree. Red sap began to ooze from the cuts that marked out its face. Encouraged by the calming wind, he took two more steps towards it and lifted his hand, his heart beating loudly in his chest as his fingers brushed against the sap.

"Please, I need to know… I need to see if Bran is right… I need to be able to help my brother, my family. Please… I need to make sure nothing will happen to Jon" he whispered softly.

The sap fell into his hand and the warmth of it soon became unbearable. Rickon tried to shake it off, only for it to expand on its hand and soon enough there was a small pool of it in his palm.

Drink, he heard a whisper in his mind commanded him and he shook his head, fear gripping his heart as he then heard a loud and angry caw.

Rickon heard his sister's anguished voice from afar, but he couldn't take his eyes away from the face that was carved into the tree.

Drink! Drink it now!

His head was spinning, but he managed to bring his hand sticking with sap to his mouth and to drink it before collapsing.

He could see his body slumped on the ground and hear the panicked voice of his sister and his friends. He could see Tormund check his body and give a sigh of relief when he declared him still breathing. Arya was crying, so was Nessa, and he watched helplessly as Tormund picked up his body and ran outside of the Godswood. He started running after them but stopped instantly, feeling that something was wrong. There was something, someone else with him, sharing his mind.

" Actually, you are the one sharing my body." a voice said from inside of him and yet not at the same time.

Rickon yelped in surprise, making his sister turn toward him. She looked smaller than before and he had to lower his head to make eye contact with her.

She can see me?

"What's wrong, Ghost?" Arya asked the white wolf.

Ghost? Rickon repeated, looking from left to right to look for his companion, to no avail.

" I am here, little man. Or rather, you are here in my mind."

Wait… What? How… You speak?

" I do, and I am glad you can hear me, little man, though I always thought I would be speaking to our brother first. I was his companion for a long time, after all…" the voice said, sounding sad at the end.

Jon? Jon is a warg too?

" I will explain later, for now, let me reassure your sister." Ghost replied before making him walk toward Arya and lick her hand.

"Rickon will be fine… He's just exhausted. He'll be fine… He has to…" she said, and Rickon felt an immense sadness wash over him.

Oh, Arya… I'm so sorry…

"You have nothing to be sorry for, little man." Ghost said. "You will make it up to her once you get back into your own body."

How do I do that? And why am I in your body?

" I… I do not know. It was bound to happen since you are a warg and you wanted to use your powers, but I don't understand why nor how it happened now."

The Gods… Bran said… Jon…

" I know what he said about our brother." Ghost replied almost angrily.

So it's not true? He's our brother, right?

"I cannot say, it's not my place to. He has Stark blood, for sure. But does it really matter?"

Of course, it does!

" Why? What is a brother if not someone you love with all your heart? Does having the same blood make you love him more or less?" Ghost insisted and Rickon didn't know what to answer. "He is a man, but he is my brother, as you are to me. Now come, until we know how to make you go back to your body, we shouldn't stay too far away from it."

Dragonstone 303 AC.

Dany.

Seeing him when they landed brought a smile to her face and yet Jon had been so very right, it wouldn't be until she heard the words from Jorah's own lips that she'd believe it true. So she moved to him quickly, welcomed the smile he gave her, and then quickly asked her questions.

"You are well, cured?" she asked, her worry still clear.

"I am, my queen." Jorah replied and she let out the breath she'd been holding in and felt the weight be removed from her chest.

"For true?" she asked and as he nodded, she moved to him and hugged him tightly, feeling him return the hug just as firmly.

With a nod to Jon to say she wished to go straight to the keep so she could speak more with Jorah, she found herself surprised when he asked to stay on the cliffs. Though it was clear he was both seeking his own privacy for his reunion and giving her time alone with Jorah too. Together she and Jorah walked and as they did so she asked him how he had been cured and then found herself looking back at the man who was speaking to Jon. Samwell Tarly was more than just Jon's friend it seemed.

"He cured you, why? "she asked, wondering if somehow Sam and Jon were aware who and what Jorah was to her.

"He said he could not go along with what those at the Citadel wished, to just let me die. My father was his former Lord Commander, my queen. Sam said he owed him a debt and it was one he'd never thought himself able to repay, until I arrived."

"It was hard, the cure?" she asked softly.

"I'm cured, I care not how hard it was to do so." Jorah replied and she found she agreed with him completely.

He looked at her nervously, almost as if he wasn't sure what to say or what response she may have to his words.

"Jorah?"

"I wish to rejoin your service, my queen. Is there a place for me by your side?" Jorah asked nervously.

"Always. Ser Jorah Mormont, I would name you Lord Commander of my Queensguard." she said without reservation, and the smile he gave her stayed on his face even as he knelt to accept his role.

As they walked, she told him about taking King's Landing and how one war was already over. Then she answered his questions regarding Jon Snow and yet when he brought up how Jon had been Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and how the oaths sworn there were for life, Dany found herself frowning. Not at Jorah, but at the fact that this was now the second time Jon's breaking of those oaths had been brought up in the last few days. Cersei doing so may not have truly registered, but Jorah bringing it up did and she knew she'd have to speak to Jon about how he had been freed from his oaths.

Tyrion had brought it up more than once, but she'd been angry with her Hand and so she'd given it little thought. She'd been grateful for and reliant on Jon's aid too and so it perhaps was not something she wished the answer to at the time. It would not be only Jon's past that needed to be addressed, either. More of Cersei's words now came back to her, about Tyrion, Ellaria, and Tyene, and then she remembered what Olenna had said during the parley. She and her allies would need some long conversations over the next few days and she may have tough decisions to make.

"My queen?" Jorah asked after she'd been quiet for far too long.

"It's nothing, Jorah, just thinking of what's to come." she said, offering him a smile that was soon wiped from her face.

The roar was louder than she had ever heard, pained, worried, and angered all at the same time and she didn't even need to think to know which of her children was making such a sound. They were almost at the gates of the keep and the cliffs were some distance away, yet she nearly ran to them all the same. Only Jorah placing his hand on her shoulder stopped her from doing so.

"Rhaegal." she said worriedly.

"May be giving you a warning, my queen." Jorah said and despite her wish to run to her son, it was his words that won out.

It was only when she entered the keep itself that she became sure that Rhaegal wasn't roaring for her, that it was Jon he was either warning or worried about, and this time she refused to listen to Jorah or even Missandei who'd come to welcome her back to the island.

"Jon. Jon is in danger. We must go to him, I must go to him." she said worriedly as she called out for Drogon.

"Jon is more than capable, my queen. We can send some of the Dothraki; they'll reach him quicker than any." Missandei said and Dany shook her head.

"Not quicker than Drogon." she said determinedly and she called out once again for her son to come to her.

It was one of her children that came to her, but not Drogon or Viserion. She and all those assembled in the courtyard looked to the sky to see Rhaegal flying their way and her son was moving far more quickly than she'd ever seen him do so before. Which of them first noticed what he carried in his talons she'd not be able to say with certainty later on. Though when she herself saw Jon's body being held in them, she gasped loudly and almost fell to the ground.

She was by Rheagal's side before he had even fully landed, his eyes looking deep into her own as he placed Jon carefully on the ground and brushed against him with his head as if he was trying to make him move. The pained sound that he let out when he did not was heart-wrenching and stopped her in her tracks. Then he let out the loudest roar she had ever heard when Missandei and Jorah moved past her and closer to Jon. Rhaegal left them both in no doubt that they were not to touch him or come any closer and it was this which stirred her into action once again.

When she knelt down and placed her hand on Jon's forehead she felt how very cold he was. As he then moved she let out a loud yelp, before touching his face and cheek once more. That he moved into her touch brought her so much relief and while she knew he needed to be seen to by a Maester or a Healer, she knew that Rhaegal would allow neither until he knew that Jon was well and would be looked after. So she rose to her feet and walked to the Green Dragon. Leaning her head against his own, she told him that Jon breathed still and that he would need to be moved inside to be treated, only for Rhaegal to push her away.

Holding her hand up to those with her, she moved to her son again and spoke even more softly with him. She promised him that she'd not let anyone harm Jon, that this was needed, and that if he allowed her to take him inside, she'd make sure he'd recover. It was a promise that she very much hoped to keep and one that she didn't wish to think about the consequences of not being able to. It seemed to be enough for Rhaegal too, though before she was allowed to lift Jon from the ground, Rhaegal once again brushed his head over his chest and she watched as he blew warm air over Jon's body.

"Carry him inside, carefully. Jorah, the man who was with Jon, Samwell was it?" she asked and Jorah nodded "He must have seen something or knows something. Or perhaps he too is in danger of some sort, take some riders and go back to the cliffs, see if he requires aid or can tell us what happened?" she said commandingly and Jorah moved to do as she bid immediately.

She felt Missandei take her hand as they followed the Dothraki who carried Jon into the keep. Looking behind her she could see Rhaegal watching them all the way and the Green Dragon didn't move until they were inside. How he then knew which room they'd brought Jon to, she knew not, but as soon as they arrived, she could see Rhaegal flying past the open window. When one of the Dothraki went to close it she shook her head and as Jon was laid on the bed, Dany stood by the window and heard Rhaegal sing what sounded to her ears to be a sad lament.

Winterfell 303 AC.

Rickon .

He lay beside his body, watching his sister cry silently after the Maester announced that he didn't know what affliction plagued him. Rickon was having a hard time adjusting to his new reality. Everything he felt was heightened, his vision, his sense of smell, his emotions, and his instincts were mingled with Ghost's. While a part of him enjoyed the rush of excitement he felt while running through Ghost's body, the sensation of the wind on his fur, the joy of being free and unburdened as a wolf, he couldn't help but feel guilty to make his sisters go through this. Arya didn't want to leave his side, even to eat something, and he could sense Sansa's sadness whenever she came to see him.

Davos, Tormund, Lyanna, Ned, and Alys all came to see him and he also felt their worries as they looked at him. He had heard the Onion Knight tell Arya that he sent a raven to Jon about him and Rickon hoped it would be enough to save his older brother's life. By making him come back sooner, he wouldn't be close to the Dragon Queen, and Bran's vision about Jon losing his life wouldn't come to pass. He could sense Ghost's disagreement, but why else would he be stuck in the Direwolf's body if it was not to protect Jon?

" I believe there are things you need to see. Things you would not be able to see if you were in your own body. Things that will help our brother make the right choices in the future."

Rickon was about to argue when he heard someone coming.

"Lady Arya, you have to come to the Great Hall," Lyanna Mormont said breathlessly.

"Why?"

"Lady Sansa… I have been summoned by her, as have the rest of the Lords of the North. I believe she wants to talk to them about Rickon since it's been a few days…"

"The little… She wouldn't dare…" Arya said, rising to her feet angrily.

"Ser Davos told me to get you in case she intended to try something…"

Rickon frowned and followed the two girls to the Great Hall. He was confused. Why would Sansa talk about his state? Why was it important?

They were all there, with the exceptions of Lord Glover, Cley Cerwyn, and his retinue who had been sent on Rickon's orders to reinforce Moat Cailin on the day of Jon's departure. Larence Snow, Ondrew Locke, Barbrey Dustin, Rickard Ryswell, Alys Karstark, Ned Umber, Lyessa Flint of Widow's Watch, Torghen Flint from the Mountains, Talia Forrester, Morgan Liddle, Young Brandon Norrey, Eddara Tallhart, and Hardwood Stout. Rickon had come to know every one of them by name and their stories, he could name each member of their families and they respected him for it. Lord Manderly was at the High Table and Rickon shivered when he felt Bran's gaze on him, while Lyanna took her place and Arya waited to take hers. Ghost stood near Lyanna, not wanting to get closer to the HIgh Table because of the suffocating presence that they could both feel coming off of Bran.

Was it always like this? Had his brother always felt that intimidating?

" Always, to me at least. I could stay in his presence because you gave me the strength to withstand it, and also because of the promise I made our brother, but I do not feel well around him." Ghost answered, much to his surprise.

He watched as Sansa arrived with her head held high, her poise worthy of a proud Lady of the North or would be if only she rid herself of the company that she kept. She was flanked as usual by Yohn Royce and Littlefinger, and sat not at Rickon's place, but at her former one, which had become Arya's when she came back later. The latter glared at their sister and sat at Jon's place, probably to get a rise out of Sansa.

"Lady Sansa, I'm curious about this summons, but I want to take this opportunity to say, on behalf of the Lords of the North, that our good wishes are with King Rickon at this moment." Lord Manderly said, his words being echoed by the majority of those in the Great Hall.

Sansa seemed taken aback, which was strange, given she was the one who had called that meeting. Rickon watched through Ghost's eyes as she looked at Littlefinger, almost in desperation.

"On behalf of my family, we thank you, my Lords, my Ladies," she replied shakily. "As you are well aware, just after our brother Jon left with Daenerys Targaryen, both of my remaining brothers have suffered a most unusual attack. While Bran has thankfully recovered, it seems that Rickon… has been much more affected than we thought…"

She looked genuinely distraught during the announcement. He could feel Arya's pain too and wanted nothing more than to comfort them both, both one look at Bran petrified him.

"Lady Sansa is really overwhelmed with all that has happened lately, as is Lady Arya and the rest of the King's council." Littlefinger started and Rickon felt his hackles raise. "I believe I can speak for all of us when I say that Rickon Stark is beloved by most, if not all of us present here."

"Get to the point, Baelish," Lyanna spat as waves of anger seemed to emanate from her. "We all know it is not King's Rickon's health that is your priority."

"You wound me, Lady Mormont. But I would be lying if I said I wasn't worried about what impact the King's… momentary… absence… would have on the North and the preparations for the war to come."

"We all know what should be done and we will prepare accordingly as our King's demanded," Lord Manderly replied curtly.

"What if something happens and the King can't decide anything in his state?" Lord Royce intervened to Rickon's annoyance.

"Then the council will do its best to cope with any contingencies," Lyanna said.

"Doing its best is nice, but not enough against the dead. We need someone to guide us. King Rickon is not fit to do it now." Lord Royce retorted.

"King Rickon has a Regent," Lady Lyessa countered.

"And where is he? With the Dragon Queen, providing counsel for a war he should not take part in." Lord Royce said dismissively and Rickon wanted nothing more than to run for his throat.

"The Vale has agreed to ally themselves with King Rickon Stark, but now with the arrival of the Dragon who wants to be queen, and the North being without a king…" Lord Baelish began only for Arya to interrupt.

"If you want to leave, then leave. But remember what you said, for there will be no turning back and no mercy for the Vale when the dead will be dealt with" Arya said menacingly as she looked at Baelish.

"If the dead have been dealt with."

"Arya, Lord Baelish, that's enough." Sansa finally spoke, and Rickon swore she was angry at Littlefinger for once. "What would you have us do, my Lord?"

"We came to Winterfell for you, my Lady. We fought Ramsay Snow and those who wronged your family on your behalf. We will only stay here if you lead us during this complicated time." Littlefinger said looking to Sansa.

"You want Sansa to be Queen? While my little brother is laying in his bed, fighting for his life, you're here talking about replacing him?" Arya exploded.

"This is preposterous!" Larence exclaimed. "You have no right to make such demands! This is the North, not the damn Vale of Arryn."

"We have every right to do so," Royce said. "You are the ones needing our help. You have needed it since Sansa Stark had been kidnapped by the Boltons and forced to marry a bastard, while all of you watched and did nothing to help the poor girl."

"Forced, you said? Last time I recall, Baelish himself brought Lady Sansa back to the North so she could be wed to the Bastard of Boltons." Barbrey Dustin corrected. "She then married him willingly to get Winterfell back. There was nothing forced upon her at that moment, I know because I was there."

"Are you saying that we have been led astray by thinking Lady Sansa was in danger?" Lord Royce asked and Rickon was surprised at how the Lord of Runestone looked at Littlefinger and Sansa.

"I was. What Ramsey Bolton did to me… I had followed Lord Baelish's counsel and I deeply paid for it, but I am grateful my cousin committed his forces to come to my rescue when I needed it the most." Sansa said, still glaring at Littlefinger.

"This changes things, my Lady." Lord Royce said shaking his head.

"This changes nothing, Lord Royce. The dead are still coming for us all. And we still need to stay united if we are to have any chance to beat them." Sansa said.

"You need our forces and we get nothing in return. We followed you out of courtesy because you were kin to our Liege, but this…"

"What do you want, Lord Royce?"

"A place in the war council, at the very least. And the assurance that a Stark, a true one will lead us if it should come to pass that King Rickon never wakes up." Lord Royce said firmly.

"I will not have talk of replacing my brother while he is recovering," Sansa replied, looking outraged, which comforted Rickon. "As for the council -"

"You are the best fit to represent our family during Rickon's recovery and Jon's absence. You've been the acting Lady of Winterfell while in the shadows of Rickon and Jon. You assisted in the councils and you know what has to be done. Take the lead, sister. Until Rickon wakes up. Take it." Bran said while looking straight at him.

He knows. He knows I'm in here… Rickon gasped.

" This one knows a lot of things. It wouldn't surprise me. He's a warg too." Ghost replied.

"Are you sure, Bran?" Sansa asked shakily.

"There are things that are needed to be done and we cannot dally. If the Vale leaves, then we are lost. These are their conditions, so we have no choice but to accept them or admit defeat." Bran replied.

"Then I accept until Rickon gets better." Sansa said and though he sensed reluctance, there was something there he couldn't be certain about too, not quite pleasure, more accomplishment perhaps.

"You cannot do this!" Lyanna protested.

"You heard my brother. I'm doing it to keep the peace between the North and the Vale." Sansa said her words firmer now and those words garnered a reaction as Arya got up and left the room, but not without making her displeasure known to Sansa.

"I guess you finally got what you wanted, Your Grace," Arya spat.

"Lord Royce, I welcome you to attend the next council as a representative of the Vale."

"You honor me, your Grace." Lord Royce said, bowing to Sansa.

"I am not a Queen, Lord Royce. I am just a Lady. My brother Rickon is and remains King in the North." Sansa retorted.

None of the Lords of the North seemed happy about what happened and neither was Rickon. He had more than enough of the Lords of the Vale and Littlefinger, who now stood smugly by Sansa's side as one by one the people in attendance left the room. His first reflex had been to look for Arya, but Ghost, who was more in control of his body while Rickon was but a conscious passenger, decided otherwise. The white wolf followed Sansa and Littlefinger as they walked to her room.

"Why did you do that?" he heard Sansa whisper as they settled in front of her room. "You have just put me in an awful position!"

"It needed to be done, my love." Littlefinger's voice rattled them. "It was the perfect opportunity for you to take control of the North."

"An opportunity? My brother's bad health is an opportunity to you?"

"I know you worry about Rickon, and it's perfectly normal for you to do so, but you're Queen in all but name now!"

"I swear to the Old Gods and the New, Lord Baelish, that if you're somewhat involved in what is ailing Rickon, I will end you!" Sansa said, her voice chilling and Rickon wished he could see Littlefinger's face.

"I would never -"

"I don't believe you! Not after what you did to Aunt Lysa, to Jon Arryn. To me!"

"Sansa, I… I understand you're emotional, but I swear I have nothing to do with this. I swear, on my life!"

"Leave my sight, now. LEAVE!"

They entered Sansa's rooms as Littlefinger left, and Rickon, still confused at her reaction, felt even worse when he saw her cry. Wasn't it what she wanted? To be in charge of the North? To tell others what they should do, as if she was the Queen in the North and not the King's sister? But why did she look devastated when she finally got her wish?

" I do not understand what you call politics," Ghost replied. "But I can feel things, and so can you now that you're inside me. I can feel how sad she is. Do you?"

Aye. Rickon said not realizing their paws had led them closer to their sobbing sister.

"Ghost?" she gasped as she felt their snout of her arm, before averting her gaze. "You must hate me now, you too. Arya thinks I've planned this. I didn't know… I didn't know Littlefinger would do this."

Part of Rickon was not convinced but he could feel through Ghost that she was being honest. It was a shock to him, to be able to determine her truthfulness in that way, and he remembered what Jon had told him about Ghost long ago.

" Trust Ghost's reactions. He's here to protect you, and our Direwolves know things we do not. If he reacts badly to someone, then that person isn't trustworthy. Follow his instincts as you did with Shaggy Dog's."

He tried to remember how many times Ghost had warned him against Sansa. How the Direwolf reacted to his sister and the wolf sensed him doing so and spoke once again.

" She is annoying sometimes, but she means no harm, at least not to you. Those with her, however, I do not trust them."

You mean Littlefinger?

" Yes, the other one is a coward."

"How did it come to this?" Sansa sobbed. "All I wanted was to protect us. To make sure the Pack was strong, and now… Arya hates me. I just wish she could understand… Bran doesn't want nor need my help, Jon is surrounded by enemies because he feels he has to do it for us, and I can't even protect Rickon! I've failed him, Ghost! I've failed my brother! I was supposed to protect him!"

Oh, Sansa… It was not your fault…

Rickon felt bad for his sister. Her tears and distress tugged at his heart and so as Ghost he tried to comfort her, letting her hold onto the white wolf's fur. He realized at that moment that they wanted the same thing, but had different approaches to reach their common goal. They wanted the pack united, but their way of seeing things built a gap between them, and Sansa was still stuck in her southern ways and in a game she obviously couldn't control. He, through Ghost, licked her face reassuringly.

I'm well, sister. Do not worry about me.

"Thank you, Ghost. Thank you for making me feel part of the pack again. I've really missed this…" she whispered, giggling when she received another lick to her face. "I wish life could be simpler for us all. I wish Rickon would wake up. I wish I could kill this horrible man instead of enduring his wandering hands that make me want to empty my stomach. But since I'm losing my family, anyway, I better make sure I do my part to protect them the best I can."

That makes no sense… Rickon said

" For you, it doesn't, but she truly thinks she is right. She might not look like a wolf, but she has the stubbornness of one, unfortunately." Ghost sighed before a chill suddenly ran down both their spines. "We have to leave, now."

What's wrong? What's happening?

" I do not know, but we need to go into your room," Ghost replied as they rushed to the door and began scratching at it agitatedly.

Both he and Ghost were glad that Sansa understood and didn't make it difficult for them to leave. The atmosphere was tense when they arrived at his rooms, Tormund stood looking uncomfortably at them and it was only when they entered the room Rickon understood why.

"Brother." Bran said, looking straight at him while being next to his body.

Rickon was paralyzed with fear, as flashes of the last time they were together going through his mind.

"Have no fear, brother. I am not here to hurt you. I'm just here to apologize." Bran said.

Ghost stiffened, still on guard.

Do you feel he is sincere? Rickon asked Ghost.

" I cannot feel anything coming from him other than his power." Ghost admitted. "That is what makes me wary."

"What happened in the Godswood… I feel like you can understand me now. You were hurting me and my body reacted by itself. I never meant to hurt you and I had no control over the ravens. I am truly sorry you got hurt, and even more sorry it made your mind travel into Ghost's."

Rickon had a hard time believing him. He had seen him warg into Hodor and Summer more than once and Bran never had any trouble controlling his powers.

"It has been days now, I hoped you would be able to get back into your body. A body without consciousness is doomed, Brother. The more you share with the animal you're in, the more you lose yourself. I had hoped you would never have to face that because I know how enticing it is to be free in a wolf's body when you're stuck in yours. How freeing it can be and how it can make you never want to come back to your broken body… But you have to. For our family, for Jon, you have to come back, Brother."

I can't, and even if I could, I don't trust you.

"I've never warged so long into another because I had been taught not to. I am willing to teach you now, to help you go back to your body, for I fear what would happen to you should you not."

Oh, so now you want to teach me? I don't want any lessons coming from you, you bastard!

"I understand why you do not like me. Because of what I told you in the Godswood, because of what happened after, and I am really, really sorry for putting this weight on you. I will understand if you hate me forever, but this is not about me. We need you here, Rickon. Are you willing to try?"

Bran sighed as Ghost snarled at him. Neither Ghost nor Rickon had any intention of trusting him, not after what had happened in the Godswood. Bran, sensing that this could end up with him being bit once again, called out for his guard who was standing awkwardly between Rickon's at the door.

"I'll come back soon, brother. I'll be there if you need me." Bran said, and was it not for Ghost's acute senses, Rickon would have missed the twitch on his brother's mouth that looked like a smirk that Bran tried to cover up as soon as he could.

" Something is not right…" Ghost said worriedly while Rickon felt their whole body reacting.

Is… Is it Jon? Rickon asked fearfully.

" I can't feel him. I can't feel our brother."

Dread threatened to make their heart stop and fear gripped Rickon's mind.

We have to help Jon! How can we do it?

" You need to go, little man. I need you to go. Go Now."

Where?

" Out of my mind. Try to focus on your body and to get back to it."

But Jon…

" NOW! I CAN'T REACH HIS MIND! I CAN'T… GO!" Ghost yelled, making Rickon almost jump in fear.

He couldn't, he couldn't go back to his body knowing that Jon was facing some kind of danger. But he also knew Ghost would do anything to protect his brother, so he tried to find a solution. A way for him to act and not wait for anything to happen.

If you get to him before I do, tell him I love him and I miss him.

" Little Man, don't you dare…"

He felt it. The moment his mind detached itself from Ghost's and lifted in the air. He felt himself being called somewhere and so he traveled to the source of the call, soon finding himself in front of the Heart Tree in the Godswood.

I have to go to Jon!

Fly! a disembodied voice rang through him, its effect as soothing as the wind through the red leaves.

What? What do you mean? he asked, confused.

Fly. Fly to him. Fly to your kin.

A caw resonated from the tree, startling him, and the world around him turned into darkness. Only the white tree remained as he floated away, and his fear turned into despair. Was that what Bran meant by losing himself? Had his brother been honest, that time? Had he messed things up by not wanting to hear him out?

How was he supposed to help Jon if he was to waste away?

A spark shone into the darkness. Then another, and another. Soon, he was surrounded by lights, some were smaller than the others, some were shining so much that he couldn't look at them, but they were all connected, all linked together by a smaller ray of light. Looking closer at them, he realized that they weren't sparks, but doors, all inviting him to open them and they were pulling him to them. Where and what did those doors lead to? Why was he so attracted by them?

Fly! he heard again as the wind pushed him to one of the doors . Fly and see the world through their eyes…

Emboldened by these words, Rickon gripped the handle closer to him and opened the door, not knowing what awaited him on the other side but unafraid to walk through regardless.

Dragonstone 303 AC.

Jon.

Sam. Sam had tried to kill him. No, it wasn't Sam, it was someone wearing Sam's face. A Faceless Man had tried to kill him, simply because he'd cheated death and stolen a life from the Many-Faced God. Or so Rickon had told him what Arya had said. He'd not believed his brother, no that wasn't quite true, he always believed him, he just did not believe that was the motive of a group of assassins. It made no sense that they wished them dead for that or that they even knew about them, especially given that they were based in Essos.

This was something else, though what it was he knew not. The laugh he let out then sounded hollow and empty as he found himself alone and walking in the darkness.

"You know nothing, Jon Snow." the voice called out and he called out for her to no reply.

"Ygritte?"

He found himself standing in a courtyard that was empty and could see the Wall as it loomed over him. So surprised was he by the sight that it took him a moment to realize he was actually able to see once more. Looking around him it soon became clear where he was and he shivered as darkness fell and he and Olly walked down some steps together. Jon remembered this night, even though he'd not wished to, he remembered it and remembered it far too well.

"For the Watch."

"For the Watch."

Again and again, the voices called out and Jon felt his hand go to his chest as if to pull out the knives that weren't there. Men he'd called his brothers had killed him for doing what needed to be done and he watched as other men he'd called brothers wept tears over the sight of his body, and as he was carried into the room and laid down on the table. He looked on as Davos, Edd, and some of his truer brothers and finally Melisandre all came and looked at him and as the lady herself washed his body. Though he could have done without seeing himself in a room laying naked while people looked at him. He thanked the gods that Tormund wasn't here, only to almost laugh when he saw him.

"We'll burn the dead." Tormund said sadly as he walked from the room.

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