Jon

Winter has come. For as long as he could remember those words were always spoken in his father's tongue. "The king of the north" for the love of the seven, Jon had no idea how it had come to this. In all honesty, Jon had come to loath this fucking title. He hated how people bowed in his presence, how they carefully chose every words before speaking. It was because of this that Jon spent as much time as he could with the freefolk, they'd sooner shit out gold then call him sir. Tormund was slowly becoming one of his closest friends, "the day I call you "my lord" is the day I let the Night's king rape my fucking skull, you'll always be a baby crow to me" Jon had laughed in response to this, he couldn't even remember the last time he had laughed that much. Truthfully he liked them more, "King of the North" "Bastard" "Lord Snow" none of it fucking mattered, he surrounded by some of the hardest men and women he'd ever met, Jon felt at home.

Jon remembered Sansa's 10th name day, Lady Stark had arranged for a huge banquet with lords and ladies from all over traveling for the special day. Lady Stark, in her eternal wisdom had thought it best that he not be present on that special day. While lords and ladies and the starks had feasted, drank, joked and laughed, Jon had spent the day shovelling horse shit from the stables. Jon had spent the whole day debating whether it was worth the trouble to fill lady Starks pillows with that same shit. He had of course decided against it, father would have been a collateral victim and no doubt would have him punished. But it was Arya who had stayed his hand, she had come running to see him, a leg of lamb in one hand and a beer (no doubt stolen) in the other. God he loved that girl, she had never looked at him like the others did. Once, Arya had slapped a visiting lord's son because he had called Jon a bastard.

Tormund slapped Jon on the back snapping him out of his daze, laughing Tormund grasped a flash and drained it. Wine dripped against his beard 'speak Jon Snow! We are talking of flesh and fucking here!' Jon laughed and ripped the wine from Tormund. Jon considered this for a moment, 'Ygritte! Greatest woman I've ever known' Jon raised a toast at this, the freefolk who knew her did the same. Tormund growled 'Now there was a woman, not like these southern cunts of yours!' One freefolk who was unfamiliar with Ygritte spoke 'did you steal her?' At this Tormund and Jon looked at each other and burst out laughing, wine exploded from Jon's nose and mouth, which caused the freefolk to laugh even harder. Gasping for air, Jon struggled to breath due to the laughter, luckily Tormund answered for him 'The only way this baby crow could have stolen her was if his cock was twice the size of Wun Weg' Jon raised another toast 'to the last of the giants!' this time all the freefolk followed suit.

'My King!' the laughter died down, Jon turned around to see a group of northern lords standing behind him. They all stood there wearing the fucking shiny armour and clasping their shiny fucking swords, 'seven hells' Jon thought, he was even starting to think like the freefolk. Jon and Tormund stood up to meet them 'Lady Sansa and Littefi….I mean Lord Baelish request your presence'. Jon groaned inwardly, the thing he liked most about the freefolk, probably more than anything else. When they said something. They fucking meant it! Jon said his goodbyes and started to leave, Tormund followed next to him, one of the lords decided against this, bad move, Jon thought. The lord spoke with as much authority as he could muster 'It is only the King who is needed' Tormund stood right against the lord so that their noses were almost touching. 'Which King is that?' The baby crow? Or that Bolton fucker? Do you know? How could you? You weren't fucking there' 'How dare you!' The lord in question moved for his sword, however Jon in an instant moved in-between the two. 'That's enough!' The lord instantly looked ashamed of himself, Tormund however was still gripping his knife, had Jon been a second slower, that same knife would have carved this lord up into mush.

After Jon had settled the small dispute, he and Tormund made their way to Winterfell for the meeting. As they passed the hallway a group of ladies giggled at the sight of them, blushing and whispering together. A few years ago this might have sent Jon's blood rushing, now it barely fazed him. Tormund was right, once you've been with a real woman, these pretty girls did little more than annoy him. Jon smiled at the memory of Ygritte "Oh a spider! Save me Jon Snow!" "you rip my pretty silk dress, I'll blacken your eye" The memory caused him a moment of happiness, and then pain flowed over him. Jon doubted he would ever find a woman in the world that could measure up to her. Entering the hall, Sansa and Littlefinger stood waiting for him, their faces stony and unreadable. Sansa looked grim 'We need to talk!' Jon sighed mentally preparing himself for whatever they wanted now. Jon sat down, Tormund however fetched some wine and meat and dumped them on the table, then proceeded to eat loudly. Littlefinger spoke 'perhaps this talk would be better without company' Tormund ignored this and continued ripping apart a chicken. Jon smiled inwardly 'Speak! Tormund represents the Freefolk he's just as welcome here as you are' Littlefinger shared a look at Sansa before continuing 'An entire fleet is approaching' Tormund spat out a bone 'a what?' Sansa clearly looked disgusted at this behaviour 'Peter's sources say that an army from Esso is rapidly approaching'. Jon was puzzled 'So? How does this affect us?' Sansa stepped forward 'You're the Lord of Winterfell, The King in the North! What happens if this army invades?' Jon admitted that this was troubling, Tormund however was less bothered 'So? Let this eastern cunt invade, what does it matter' Jon frowned 'Winter has come! We can't prepare for the dead if we're too busy fighting some other war'. Littlefinger smirked 'My spies have told me that it is Daenerys Targaryen who approaches, the mother of dragons!' Tormund laughed 'This whore gave birth to a dragon?' Littlefinger chose to handle this delicately 'it's a title, but no less true, she has an entire army and three live dragons!'

Jon and Tormund looked at each other, if what they were saying was true this could change everything. Jon drank to give himself time to think 'Dragons?' Sansa could see Jon's thinking 'Jon! What if she attacks, she'll take the throne for herself, she'll take the north!' Jon stamped his fist on the table, shocking Sansa. Jon rose 'let her then! You think being the "King in the North" matters to me? You think the Iron Throne matters to me? The only thing that matters to me is life! The dead are coming! Soon! If what you're saying is true, then this could be what we need to save everyone!'

Sansa looked at Peter, who was clearly deep in thought 'In many cases throughout history, many alliances have been formed through matrimony' Jon was repulsed by this thought, 'I'm not getting married!' 'So you would doom the north to being set ablaze, because you prefer to remain a bachelor?' Tormund gulped down an entire flagon of wine, then spat out a decent amount of it, 'this wine tastes like pigshit! You think this dragon bitch will want to marry you? You're not half the man for the job' Jon laughed 'You take her then!' 'I could steal her, but fuck marriage, that's only for you southern twats' Littlefinger intervened 'Gentleman please there is a lady present, Tormund laughed 'Some Lady! She let her husband get eaten by dogs, now that's more my style' Sansa was unable to hide her repulsion at this 'Jon if we can make an alliance with her then we CAN save everyone!' Tormund grunted 'I'd like to see how those Ice fuckers do against dragon fire'

Jon groaned, as much as he hated it they were right, an army wouldn't do much, Valyrian steel was rare and Dragonglass was difficult to transport, yet alone forge, but Dragons? After much thought Jon concurred 'Fine! Lord Baelish would it be possible to you to offer this Queen an invitation of an alliance?' Peter bowed 'Of course my King, as well as one of matrimony?' Jon cursed 'suggest the alliance first, explain the situation, If she is inclined then I accept' Baelish smirked and made his leave, Sansa looked at Jon, then glared at Tormund, before departing after Littlefinger. Tormund laughed and passed a flagon of wine to Jon 'Cheer up, who's to say she want to marry you?' Jon smiled and drank, "marriage" he thought to himself, Ygritte's words echoed in his mind 'You know nothing Jon Snow'