There was part of him that thought he would never see Winterfell again, so when Jon caught the first glimpse of its imposing towers in the distance, he stopped his horse and simply stared at it. The last time he had been home, he had been an outsider, a Snow, and now he returned a Stark. He truly felt that he was returning home.

"Are you coming?"

Jon looked to Arya, who was staring at him expectantly. "Just admiring the view."

"Well, it's much nicer on the inside, so hurry up."

They rode on, trekking through a light snow until they were finally before the castle gates. They were already open in welcome, the guards having seen their approach. A line of Stark men and workers from the castle were crowded around to greet them, but Jon's focus was on three others who were also waiting. Rickon seemed to have grown a foot since last Jon saw him, and the young boy was bouncing on his feet as they approached. Sansa looked the same as ever, a composed, proper young lady, but with the lingering war and the loss of her father, it seemed to be more forced. Next to Sansa, seated in a chair with a set of affixed wheels, was Bran. Just like Rickon, he seemed to have grown considerably, though there was an emptiness behind his eyes that had not been there before. For a boy who had dreamed of knighthood, the loss of his mobility had clearly disheartened him.

Jon lifted Rickon up quickly, embracing the boy in greeting, before allowing him to run off to his mother, who had only just exited the carriage.

"Sansa," Jon continued down the line, unsure of what the girl's reaction would be to him. They had never been close, her mother's displeasure with his presence a learned grudge. To his surprise, Sansa reached out and embraced him.

"I'm glad that you are safe," she said, before pulling back. "Is Robb well?"

Knowing that Robb was in the process of assaulting Casterly Rock, Jon was tactful in his reply. "He was well when I left him. He's a married man now, with a babe on the way. Queen Margaery is there with your mother. I'm sure she could use a friend around here to get acclimated to life in Winterfell." Jon could see Sansa's eyes light up as she glanced to where Margaery stood, being introduced to Rickon. "Go ahead. We'll have more time to catch up later."

Sansa nodded and moved swiftly to her mother, leaving Jon alone with Bran. He moved over and took a knee in front of Bran's chair, reaching out and gripping the boy's hand. "I can't say how good it is to see you. The last time I was here, we didn't know if you would ever wake."

"Maybe the better if I hadn't," Bran drawled.

"Don't say that," Jon stated, his voice commanding. "You've been dealt a blow, there is no doubt, Bran, but there are other things still left for you. That fall may have taken your legs, but it did not take your mind. You'll find your place in the world, even if it isn't as a knight."

"If you say so," disbelief clear in Bran's voice.

"I do, and Robb will tell you the exact same when he arrives." Jon stood and affectionally ruffled the boy's hair. A new face had appeared behind Bran, in the grinning figure of Ser Rodrik. Jon walked behind Bran and embraced Winterfell's master-at-arms.

"Good to have you home, Jon," Rodrik stated.

"It's good to be home."

"And a true Stark now, from what I hear?"

"Aye, you've heard true."

"For what it's worth, you always were, royal decree or not. Heard you Stark boys were causing some distress to those fucking lions down south."

"Just a bit," Jon grinned. "When I left, Robb was on his way to take Casterly Rock from them."

"Truly?" Ser Rodrik asked, astonishment on his face. "Well that is sure to ruffle some golden feathers. Though, I'm surprised you agreed to come back, and not take part."

"Yes, well, there are some disadvantages to having a King for a brother," Jon frowned. "Turns out you can't just tell them to shove it when they decide something stupid."

"And what is it he wants you to do?"

"Get control over what is happening beyond the Wall," Jon responded. "Uncle Benjen has disappeared, and we've been getting ravens from the Lord Commander requesting aid. I'm really only escorting the Queen, Lady Catelyn and Arya back here before I set off again. There are three thousand men camped outside the castle to reinforce the Watch."

"Those wildings have been a constant problem," Rodrik growled. "There have been no less than fifteen reports of raids since Lady Catelyn rode south. Just two days ago we engaged a group of twenty…biggest one we've seen."

"Are they dead?"

"Most, but we managed to subdue a few. They're in the dungeons. Those bastards did a number on us as well. Came back with ten less men than we brought."

"Have you questioned them?"

"Tried, but their lips are shut tighter than a bride at her bedding. I was waiting to dispense with them until Lady Catelyn returned, but it seems that decision may be best left to you or our new Queen now."

"Don't execute them yet. I may try to have words with them myself. A little perspective never hurts."

"Good luck. The male wilding with the red hair looks like he would eat your flesh if you looked at him the wrong way."

"What I would like to know is how so many are getting this far south," Jon muttered. "The Boltons are supposed to be maintaining our norther border. Have they been in correspondence?"

"None recently," Rodrik answered. "Though, there have been rumors of the Bolton bastard causing trouble from some of the folks passing through Winter Town. Ned should have put his foot down on that menace years ago."

"One problem at a time, Ser Rodrik," Jon sighed. "I'll add him to my list."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

While another, larger room, had been prepared for him within the keep, Jon had opted to return to his former chamber. There was a comfort in familiarity, and he did not feel like making a fuss in the short time he would be staying. After resting for a brief time and indulging in a hearty meal, he allowed himself the pleasure of a warm bath. Adequately refreshed, he put on a fresh set of clothes, and made his way down to the dungeons.

There was only one guard standing in place at the entrance, and Jon waved him away to leave him alone with the prisoners. There were only three in total…one big man, with a giant red beard, whose eyes were wild. Across from the male wildling, sitting with her knees tucked to her chest, was a woman with equally striking red hair and blue eyes. She was young, around his own age, and she looked nothing like he expected a wildling to look like. She wasn't beautiful in the way that Sansa was, but still, there was something about her that drew his eyes to her. He forced his eyes away briefly to the prone figure of the third wildling, who looked to have succumbed to injuries.

Jon slowly approached the cell and gripped the rusted, iron bars. "What are your names?" Jon questioned.

"Haven't seen you before," the male wildling stated. "Did they think if they sent someone prettier, we'd talk?"

"I've only just arrived back to the castle, and heard we had uninvited guests," Jon responded.

"Shame if this is the way they treat guests in the south," the man said.

"Firstly, this isn't the south. Secondly, if it was, you certainly would not still be alive."

"So we should be grateful, is that it?" The young woman spoke for the first time, her voice drawing Jon's attention instantly. "And who do we have to thank for such fine treatment?"

"My name is Jon Stark."

"Stark…You related to Benjen Stark?" The man asked.

"He was…is…my uncle," Jon stated.

"Had many run ins with Benjen Stark over the years," the man noted. "His brother was an important lord."

"Ned Stark. He was my father," Jon stated.

"Was?"

"He was killed in battle a short time ago."

"So does that make you Lord Stark now?"

"No. That title falls to my brother, Robb. Who also happens to be the King in the North."

"And what does that make you?" The woman asked.

"The brother of the King."

"Why not kill your brother and become king?" The woman needled.

"Because I love my brother, and I think he is a good King. Family is important to us. We don't do things the way wildlings do, which is why you are sitting in these cells right now. Raiding and killing innocent men, women and children carries a sentence of death."

"What you call what those fucking crows do to us, Jon Stark? Those crows have been killing us for years, just for existing. You kept us trapped beyond your big, fancy wall, but that wasn't good enough. Do you know how many of our men, women and children the crows have killed?"

"I don't," Jon answered, honestly.

"Thousands!" the woman exclaimed.

"I can't speak for what the Night's Watch has done," Jon said. "But I can say that the attacks on my people will not be tolerated. Why is it that all of a sudden wildlings are coming down in droves, especially if all you wish is to be left alone?"

"You know nothing, Jon Stark," the woman sniped. "You know nothing of what's coming. You sit in your nice castle, while we fight against the storm that's coming."

"And what is it that's coming?"

"Things that would make you crawl and hide in your bed like a babe. We're not coming south because we like you kneelers. It's because we don't have a choice."

"Have you ever seen a man rise from the dead, pretty man?" The male wilding asked.

"I haven't."

"Well I have. A whole army of them in the north is gathering, waiting to attack. They've preyed on our clans, picking at us. Every wildling that falls to them joins their ranks…hundreds of thousands of them."

Jon found it hard to believe that an army of a hundred thousand dead men were coming, but for some reason the look in the man's eyes made the claim seem sincere. "What is it exactly that your people want?"

"Protection…to not be prisoners stuck between the White Walkers to the North and the Wall to the south," the male wildling answered.

"You want passage through the Wall?"

"We do, Jon Stark," the woman confirmed. "And if you southerners won't let us, then we'll climb your wall and come anyway."

"You do realize…though, in fairness you actually may not… that even though there are multiple kingdoms at war with each other presently, the one thing that would likely unite us in common purpose would be to repel an army of wildlings from invading our castles," Jon stated, though truthfully he doubted the reality of his own assertion. The Lannisters would still likely see the Starks dead first.

"You have your king, Jon Stark, and now the free folk have theirs," the woman said. "Mance Raydar, the King Beyond the Wall, has united the clans. A hundred thousand free folk are marching south, and they're much more frightened of the White Walkers and their army than of those fool crows at Castle Black. Mance sent us scouting, which is why we were south of the wall."

"When Ygritte asked whether you would kill your brother for his crown, you said you wouldn't do it because you loved him," the man continued. "Well, I have sons and daughters, Stark, and I love them just like you love your brother. What am I to do? Should I sit and wait for the others to have them? Would you wait for them to take your family? The only difference between us, is that you live safely tucked behind your Wall, while we're penned in like animals waiting for slaughter."

"Do you really think your people who built that Wall hundreds of feet high, built it to keep some free folk from raiding your lands?" The girl, Ygritte, questioned.

"My ancestor built the Wall thousands of years ago," Jon noted. "I can't rightly say his true purpose for building it, but I know the stories and the legends. You can't escape them being raised here."

"They aren't just stories, boy," the man stated. "If you don't believe me, I'll escort you north and introduce you to the other's leader, the Night King, myself. That'll change your fucking mind. We'll likely end up walking corpses, but my point would be proven all the same."

"What do you say, Jon Stark? Are you man enough to travel beyond the Wall?" Ygritte smirked.

"I'll decline the invitation to meet this Night King, for the moment," Jon stated. "However, I would be agreeable to meeting with your King Beyond the Wall. Would he be willing to meet with me, is the question…without killing me afterwards, preferably?"

"As long as you don't bring any crows with you," the wildling man noted. "I may be able to guarantee your safety, for the sake of a meeting."

"Good," Jon responded. "It just so happens I am on my way to the Wall." Jon looked over the woman. "You know my name, and I know that she is Ygritte, but what do they call you?"

"Tormund Giantsbane," the wildling man answered, pride in his name evident as he puffed out his chest.

"Don't ask him why he calls himself that…it ends with him fucking a bear," Ygritte sighed, leaning her head back against the stone wall. "Since we're friends now, will you let us out of this cell?" She smiled seductively at him, running a hand down her front. "You're a pretty one. I wouldn't say no to sharing your bed for the night. I've never fucked the brother of a King before."

"Me as well," Tormund grinned and winked.

"I don't think I'm quite ready for that yet," Jon responded, though the image of the woman sharing his bed was briefly stuck in his head. "I will have someone come and see to your fallen man and make sure that you're warm and fed until I'm ready to set out, which won't be long."

"Fair enough, Jon Stark," Tormund shrugged. "You're not as much of a fool as I thought you'd be…for a kneeler."

"We both serve Kings," Jon countered. "I kneel because I respect my King, not because he makes me. Whether your king makes you kneel or not, you still serve him." Just as he finished talking, a white figure stalked into the dungeons. Ghost took a seat at Jon's side, allowing him run his hand along his head. The two prisoners were clearly surprised at the animal's presence.

"You have a dire wolf?" Ygritte asked.

"I do, as do all of my siblings. There are six in total."

"And they just wander freely?" Tormund questioned.

"Their mother died, and we've raised them since they were small pups," Jon explained.

"I've never seen a tame dire wolf like that. Maybe there is some true north in you Starks after all," Tormund mused.

"I wouldn't call them tame," Jon corrected, looking down into Ghost's muzzle. "I've seen them tear a man's face off in battle…rip their insides open."

"That's good, Stark," Tormund smiled. "You'll need every advantage you can get when the others come…and they will come."

"Winter is coming," Jon reflexively stated.

"Aye, it's coming, boy. And you better be ready for it when it does."