What if Jon received a vision of great importance from Brynden Rivers of the wars to come? How would this effect the fate of Westeros?

Eddard Stark

The news of the death of Jon Arryn shook the land and all the people in it. None more than Ned. His ties to the former lord of the Vale where so close it would be hard to break even in death. None of his children truly knew how close he was to Jon. They were as close as his two sons were now. Granted Jon Arryn also was much older than he was when they first became friends. If anything Ned saw him as more of a father than his own.

Finally after some grieving by himself Ned left his solar and walked amongst the castle of Winterfell. Catelyn was currently watching over the girls and their lessons. Whilst Sir Roderick was training the boys in the yard. Not wanting Cat to see him in his state of grieving Ned walked across the walkway near the yard giving him a good sight of the sparring and practice.

"Lord Stark!" bellowed Sir Roderick finally seeing him in plain sight. "Do you wish to see their progress?" he shouted making his voice carry across the yard as loud as a war cry.

Ned smiled a bit seeing the looks of pride from his boys. They each have been working incredibly hard with melee and archery. Bran more so than anyone.

"If it pleases I wouldn't mind seeing how far they've come along Sir!" he called out.

Hearing their fathers interest in their skills seemed to bring the boys more energy as they immediately grabbed their blunted blades and waited on their drills to be given.

Ned walked down from the tower and took a seat on one of the stumps that lay close to the training area. Sir Roderick put Robb and Jon together to spar till someone yielded.

Ned smiled. The look of determination for their father's approval was evident even though they were as close to manhood as humanly possible. Ned remembered a time when that was all he ever wanted.

He was never the greatest with a blade compared to his brother Brandon and nowhere near the level of skill with riding as Lyanna was. But alas Ned was still here. As he grew in age his wisdom and overall battle sense had grown tremendously especially after Robert's rebellion.

Sir Roderick came across the yard and stood near Ned's make shift chair. Obviously nervous to broach the subject of Jon Arryn. "I'm truly sorry to hear of Jon's passing my lord, he was a good man." he said quietly. Only the sound of the boys gathering their training gear and swords could be heard.

Ned sighed "Thank you Sir Roderick, he was truly the greatest man i ever had the privilege to know. I'm slowly letting go of the grief and am ready for what comes next."

Sir Roderick nodded still watching the boys get ready. "I assume Lady Catelyn already informed you of the King and his journey to Winterfell?" he asked

Ned knew all too well of Robert's voyage to the north. It was already apparent in Ned's mind what he could possibly be seeking. Only a week after Jon's passing and the news spread of Robert's decision to come here. It would be a month or so before they reached Winterfell and the preparations were already being made.

"Yes, the lady informed me of Robert's trip north. We must make haste and prepare the castle for the King's arrival. That means a lot of food, wine, and of course make sure these lads are trained well on how to behave properly amongst the King and his family." Ned told him.

"Well we'll make sure these southerners see just how strong the north can be. Especially just how out skilled they'd be at the end of a blade." Sir Roderick said giving a chuckle.

Ned smiled. "Well let's see just how strong my sons truly are."

Sir Roderick got the hint. "Any day now ladies! Your lord father grows impatient!"

The boys hurried into the circle. Jon snow gripping his blade tightly, his face remained as solemn as Ned's was when he was on the field of battle. Meanwhile Robb was the opposite. His confidence was oozing towards the on lookers.

Ned smirked. He knew Robb always enjoyed the attention of the small folk especially when he had the chance to prove himself with a blade.

Although he found it quite amusing to see his son so willing to show off. His true curiosity was Jon. His bastard son was an enigma to him. He was always the talk of the town, his looks had most of the common girls swooning. But it never went to his head. He was as humble as they came and it made him seem even more like his younger self than Ned was willing to admit. Perhaps that's what made his lady wife so against Jon.

Jon glanced over at his father to see him staring, he turned away embarrassingly. Jon knew his father was watching intently.

"Begin!" Sir Roderick shouted at the top of his lungs. Theon and Bran stopped talking amongst themselves to watch with curiosity along with the small folk of Winterfell.

From the beginning of the spar it was obvious to Ned that Jon held the upper hand. Robb was extremely aggressive, slashing his sword as precise as possible. None of which seemed to hit their mark. Jon was too quick. He played defensively waiting for the right moment to strike.

"Are you going to fight back Jon? Or am i too much for you?" Robb said with a smirk appearing on his face. Jon remained calm and continued to circle Robb ducking and parrying each blow sent his way. "Watch that front leg Stark, it's beginning to slip." Jon quipped back. Finally after what seemed like an eternity Jon noticed a sweat bead beginning to form on Robb's forehead.

Ned leaned forward across the stump. Robb was always stronger than Jon growing up. Even now he could tell that Jon wasn't blocking each blow easily. But Jon was always the quickest.

Robb thrusted his sword forward only to be met with a quick slap of Jon's sword across the tip of his blade. Immediately Jon took advantage of the opening thrusting forward with the hilt of his blade into Robb's stomach staggering his opponent. Robb wouldn't give in though with as much energy as he could gather he threw a punch across Jon's face. The blow normally would've came close to ending the match, but Robb was exhausted.

The blow staggered the bastard of Winterfell just a bit. But not enough to dissuade Jon's control of the spar. Jon thrusted his sword forward awaiting a parry which came as quick as he thought it would. Falling into Jon's trap Robb's legs were swept out from under him, air leaving his lungs and his sword sent sprawling across the training yard.

Finally Robb took a breath and looked up to see his brother's sword close to his chest.

Robb raised his hands in defeat. "I yield brother." he said with something akin to a laugh. His lungs trying to breathe in as much air as his body would allow him.

Jon reached his hand down and grasped his brother's hand and pulled him up off the ground. "Good fight Stark, I thought you had me with that punch. I definitely will feel that on the morrow." Jon said with a cheeky smile.

"Don't pity me Snow" Robb said with a smile as equal as his brother's "You were in control of our bout from the start."

Ned stood up and walked towards his sons along with Sir Roderick, Theon, and Ned's youngest. "Good fight both of you. You both have come along way." Ned said a smile appearing on his normally solemn face.

"Yeah, I can't wait to start fighting like you two!" Bran cried out in awe

The two exhausted from the bout just breathed a sigh of relief to see their father proud. "Robb you could've easily won that bout but you were too aggressive. Confidence is always good to have but never underestimate your opponent. Jon may have more speed and skill with a blade, but take it from someone who's witnessed Robert Baratheon on the battlefield. Strength with a weapon is extremely difficult to defend. Think more strategically and that fight wouldn't have ended the way it did."

Robb nodded in understanding. "Thank you father, I'll keep that in mind when i beat Jon next time around." Robb said slapping Jon playfully on the back. Jon pushed him back with a laugh.

"Good work both of you, Snow you're truly becoming an excellent swordsman. Who knows maybe one of these southern knights will take you as under them as a squire! I sure as hell would've back in my glory days!" Sir Roderick complimented.

Bran jumped up and down with excitement. "That would be such an honor Jon! We could be knights together!" Bran shouted. Gripping his half brother's sleeve.

Theon smirked. "I wouldn't put your faith in that little lord, there isn't a knight pass the north that would offer a squire position to a bastard."

Ned frowned. Seeing Jon's look of hope be torn down to rubble. "Watch your tongue Greyjoy. My blood along with blood of the first men courses through Jon's veins. Insulting him also insults those who've forged and fought for the north till their dying breath."

Theon backed off his snarky attitude bowing his head. "Of course Lord Stark, i meant no disrespect."

Ned remained silent. The others around him kept as quiet as a field mouse. "Robb go with Bran and Theon to get cleaned up. Your lady mother will want you ready in the hall within the hour for your meal."

Robb nodded in understanding, he knew his father was not someone to question when his temper began to run high. "Yes father. Come along let's get ready before mother has a fit." he said gesturing for bran to follow him. They both began to walk back towards the castle while Theon was in tow a few steps behind.

Sir Roderick was dismissed to clean up the armory and be done for the day. All that remained was Ned and his bastard son.

"Thank you Lord Stark.. Theon was wrong for insulting your house. But he was right, a bastard isn't meant to wield a knight ship. It would be a dishonor to the seven." Jon stammered out, to nervous to meet his father's gaze.

"You say that as if you follow the seven son." Lord stark chuckled. Earning a smile out of the young lad.

"Your destiny is determined by you, and you alone. You're an excellent swordsman and I know one day you will truly make a name for yourself no matter where you go in Westeros. You may not have my name, but you have my blood. And for that you will always have a place here in my home." Ned said his voice never wavering.

"Thank you father…" Jon muttered out.

It was obvious to Ned Jon wanted to ask something of him. He just prayed it wasn't the one question he dreaded since the day he brought him back from the tower of joy. That day could still bring Westeros's most serious and honorable man to break down in tears. He still heard Lyanna's voice pleading with him. 'Promise me Ned. Promise me.'

"Uncle Benjen is returning from the wall for the arrival of the king. Will you speak with him? I know I'm ready to be something more father. I can rise up and be more than just a snow in the night's watch. I want to be a ranger just like Benjen!" Jon questioned his eyes pleading with him.

Ned was at a loss. Lyanna would never forgive him if she was still around. How could he let the kingdom's last dragon prince to succumb to freezing on the wall. He didn't want to have Jon take the iron throne back from Robert in the name of the dragon who he fought to overthrow. But there had to be something more for his nephew. Something more than serving under a broken and undermanned watch. If he allowed Jon to leave for the wall and take the watch's oath, how could he tell him of his true heritage. That he was never a bastard of any kind, but the heir to the iron throne. Lyanna would roll over in her grave.

Ned sighed. "I will discuss it with Benjen when he arrives but i won't make any promises. I don't doubt that you would be an asset to the watch. But i know there is more to you than just a watchman on the wall Jon. You were meant for so much more than that." Ned said reaching his hand out and grasping his nephew's shoulder.

Jon gazed up at his father. His eyes showing no deception or pity. He meant every word that derived from his lips.

"It's the only choice i have Lord Stark." Jon muttered grabbing his sword from the training ground and walking off to prepare for dinner.

Ned watched him walk off. "I'm truly lost sister. Your son deserves a better father, and i really hope I'm give him more than a life of celibacy and exile away from his true birthright."

Jon Snow

Dinner amongst the Stark family was one part of the day Jon could never truly get used to. There were times when lady Stark was too busy or away from Winterfell. Those were the evenings he could sit at the table with his half siblings.

But when Catelyn Stark was amongst the great hall, Jon was better off eating in his room.

'I shouldn't complain and act so bitter' he thought resting his head back on the furs that accompanied his bed frame. 'Any other bastard would've been thrown out in the cold or put to the sword to preserve the honor of their house.'

As much as he hated acting bitter it became too easy as time progressed. As a child living in Winterfell it was hard for him to show any signs of brooding. Lady Stark never liked him but she was never as open about her hatred when he was only a young lad. She didn't go out of her way to be kind to him, but at the same time she would never openly berate him, at the very least to his face.

But, as time went on and he grew to look more and more like his father. Not just in looks but in attitude and actions, the cool ignorance of his existence turned to open discontent. And Jon would never retaliate. How could he? She had every right to hate him. He was the one bloody stain to Lord Eddard Stark's honor. A constant reminder of his moment of weakness.

Jon began getting ready for bed. Removing his tunic, and the rest of his garments. Finally pulling the furs over his shoulders. But sleep never came. The conversation in the yard playing back in his head over and over again. "It's the only choice I have". Of course that was a lie. Jon could stay amongst the starks for as long as he desired. His Lord father would never be the man to send him away despite his wife's hatred for the boy.

It wasn't what Jon wanted though. He wanted something more. Growing up he always felt he was meant for so much more than to be the "Bastard of Winterfell".

He pushed his thoughts away. Hopefully Benjen could talk his father into allowing him to depart to the wall. It was the easiest choice. And one that would allow him to make a name for himself.

At last Jon fell asleep, But this night he wouldn't wake up the same man.

Catelyn Stark

Catelyn was fast asleep next to her lord husband when there was a sudden banging at the door. "Lord Stark, I'm sorry for the disturbance. But it's an emergency! Something is wrong with your son!"

Immediately the drowsiness and feeling of sleep deprivation wore off. She quickly got out of their bed and made herself somewhat presentable. It seemed Ned was never asleep to begin with. It seemed to be morning from the light that poured in through the window.

Ned ran to the door as fast and frantic as she ever saw him.

He unlocked the wooden door with as much force as he could muster. Only to be met by Sir Roderick. "What's the problem Sir?!" he called out in a voice reeking of desperation.

Catelyn joined him. "Is it Robb? Or is it one of the little ones?" she cried out. Her hair was a complete mess. Something Sir Roderick most likely had never laid eyes upon.

Sir Roderick frowned. "No my lady, it's Snow. He hasn't woken up no matter how hard Luwin and i have tried. It's something the maester has never seen before. His eyes are wide open but are as white as snow. He wont respond to anything!"

Catelyn gave a sigh of relief. Her worry was gone. None of her children were in any danger. But the look Ned gave her. It sent chills down her spine. She held her tongue.

"Show me to his room Sir Roderick! I need to see Jon now!" Ned said loudly. The master of arms nodded walking quickly down the dim lit hallway of the northern castle. Ned followed briskly behind not even looking back to see if she followed.

Of course she had to. As much as she had no concern for her husband's bastard, it would be quite a spectacle in the eyes of Ned if she remained in their room. She followed the two, not quite as fast but never leaving them from her sight.

She was quite curious to see what ailed the bastard. Pale white eyes were unheard of as far as she knew. Diseases and ailments such as that would be the talk of the entire lands.

Finally the trio arrived at the door. Ned wasted no time in moving past Sir Roderick and running to Jon's bedside. Maester Luwin was already there wiping a soaked cloth across the boys head. She couldn't get a clear look at the boy from her position in the door way, but judging by her husbands expression it couldn't be good.

"What's wrong with him?!" Ned cried out. His eyes seemed to be close to tears.

Maester Luwin was beside himself. It was obvious he was truly baffled.

"I have no idea my lord. Sir Roderick came to me as quick as possible before running up to your solar. I've tried everything i know of to wake the boy. But he's completely unresponsive. I've never seen anyone with this." Luwin said

It was obvious to her that the brittle old man was feeling as helpless as her husband. Walking past Sir Roderick who was guarding the door from unwanted eyes, she finally saw the boy. He breath left her.

Catelyn had never shown any love towards the bastard but even she felt pity for him. The furs were down to his stomach to show a great deal of sweat run down his body. He was as pale as the milk gathered from livestock. But what scared her the most was his eyes. They were wide open as if he were awake, but his dark brown pupils were replaced with a greyish tinge.

It looked like something out of Old Nan's stories. Something akin to a demon possessing the boys body. His eyes remained open and his breathing was quick.

She looked to Ned who's eyes were glued to the boy. His hand grasping Jon's. Hoping for a tinge of response. But nothing came.

Nobody dared to utter a single phrase until Lord Stark spoke. Finally he turned to Luwin. "What can we do? I know you know nothing of his ailment, but is there anything you can do to help him. Anything that could save him from this…" he gestured to Jon's eyes.

Luwin sighed. His gaze wondered to his greyish robe. "I'm sorry Lord Stark, all i can do is treat his fever. I know nothing of what possibly caused his body to go into this state. It maybe a coma of some sort. Which if true, all that can be done is await him to awake. I promise I will do whatever I can to help. But once the fever passes and his body remains the way it is… I can only await him to wake." Luwin whispered out.

Ned grabbed his hair. His face caressed the bed the boy laid on. "What then? What if he doesn't wake?" Ned cried out. A tear ran down his face.

"Coma victims who don't awake within a few days rarely survive. We have no way of feeding him, and once his body begins to shut down, its better to ease his passing." Luwin said

Catelyn could not believe her ears. Her long awaited nightmare of having her honor diminished by this bastard would soon be gone. Why did it not bring her a sense of joy or excitement?

"Do whatever you can for him maester. Tell no one of this until it's clear he will not wake." Ned whispered. The one tear becoming a stream. Ned arose quickly and made contact with her eyes.

"Gather the children. Tell them to meet at his door within the hour. If he passes they have a right to say goodbye." Ned ordered out. Barely forming the correct words from the building sob that erupted from his body.

"My lord are you sure its a good idea for Bran, Rickon, and the girls to see him?! It would scare them to death. Look at him! He looks possessed!" Catelyn cried out

She didn't want her children especially the young ones to see this horrific ailment.

Ned's sadness turned to anger as quick as an arrow being loosed. "That's an order! They have every right to make peace with him. I'd suggest you do the same. Go now."

"As my lord wishes." Catelyn grumbled out. As she turned to leave she gave one last look at the bastard. His eyes seemed to follow her.

'Gods do as you see fit' she thought before finally departing the room

From the doorway she could hear Ned tell Sir Roderick to send for his brother Benjen. He would want to see him as well.

As she walked down the corridor of Winterfell she felt a feeling of pure pity. She never wanted the bastard to die. Just not be here.

Jon Snow

Jon had never felt such a deep sleep before. It felt as if his body could remain this way forever. His dreams nothing more than fragments. Until he felt a presence enter his body. Whatever it was, it didn't feel dangerous. Just curious.

The fragmented dream state turned to one of such detail. It felt as if he were awake. The only difference being his location. His eyes were on a swivel looking around to see nothing but snow and ice. He felt no effects of the chilled wind though.

From all the stories told from Uncle Benjen and his expeditions past the wall, fighting wildlings, and seeing the 'true north' as he would call it. This looked almost identical as he would describe it. It was desolate, nothing but a barren snowy tundra. Mountains, ice, blizzards, and although he couldn't feel it's effects he knew it was as cold as humanly possible. Getting his senses of the land Jon continued to walk endlessly. Looking for some form of life, or anything to wake him from this nightmare.

Suddenly he heard a soft whisper. Almost as if the wind was calling to him. "Awake" it called out. Jon's blood went cold. His whole body shook from the fear of what was out there. He looked around and past the frozen lake that appeared in front of him he saw a clearing of trees.

Jon ran as fast as he possibly could. He truly felt no physical fatigue from the constant sprint until he made it past the first groupings of trees. His breath immediately left his chest. A cave appeared in a small clearing of vacancy. No trees, bushes, or even grass. Just a dirt path into a cave.

The same voice he heard before was now many. "Come" it called out. The fear Jon felt was masked by the sheer curiosity of what lay before him. He could hear voices inside the cave. He couldn't make out the conversations but perhaps this was his way of finally awaking from his slumber and away from these cursed lands.

Jon entered the cave. His eyes darting side to side to see only one true direction his feet could take him. The cave itself was as moist and damp as he'd expect. Moss and tree roots ran amuck along the walls and ceiling. His feet almost independent from his own body carried him past the tunnel like walls toward a large opening where the voices appeared even louder.

Then Jon's eyes burst from his sockets at the sight of what appeared to be tiny human like creatures surrounding one man. The man had to be in his later years of life for his hair whatever was left of it was as grey as the cave walls. His body was attached to a large tree of which roots ran all over the cave. The tree itself seemed as if it had no place being among the terrain.

The man's eyes were shut as if he were sleeping. Meanwhile the small dwarf like creatures turned into his full view.

"It can't be…" Jon whispered to himself. From all the stories from old nan. He knew all about the children of the forest and his ancestors. Thousands of years ago the first men were at war with dwarf like creatures who's faces almost appeared to be like weeds growing in a desolate garden. But the stories were that these creatures died off by the hands of the first men.

Jon had to be dreaming. This couldn't be possible. Finally gaining some courage Jon stepped closer and closer hearing the now singular voice calling to him. "Come Jon Snow, they can not see you."

He was now directly in front of the tree that had the old man trapped within its great and strong roots. Looking him up and down he appeared to be lame. His legs looked as if they may break just from a mere touch from his callused hands.

He didn't know what possessed him to reach out. But his arm had a mind of it's own. His fingers were so close to the old wrinkled cheek he could feel the stubble left on the elder's tired face.

Suddenly the room went quiet from the chitter chatter that plagued his mind. The assumed children of the forest went silent. Jon couldn't even make out what they were saying to begin with even though his ears were feet away from their bodies. Jon's hand touched the man's face and the elder's eyes flashed open.

Finally gaining control of his hand again Jon pulled back almost launching himself from the tree. He landed quit hard on the ground.

His eyes never left the eyes of the trapped 'coffin- dodger' as Theon liked to call his elders.

After what felt like an eternity of his fixed eyes he saw the man's lips move from his expression of constant solemnness. "I've been awaiting your arrival young one, stand up. I pose no true threat to you. Your arrival to my home was by my doing. There is much we need to see and much to discuss."

Jon stood up quickly brushing himself off as if the fall was intended. "Who are you? And what do you mean by your doing? this is all just a dream. I'm currently sleeping in Winterfell." Jon cried out. His voice cracking from the surprise.

"Though that maybe true, your body remains in Winterfell but your mind resides in this sanctum. My name has changed over many years, but you would know me as Brynden Rivers. Though that name has no true meaning to me anymore. The name my mother gave me while at her breast was that. But I'm now known to myself as the three eyed crow. And this is no dream Jon snow." he said

The echo of the breaking voice of the old man truly felt more and more real as time went on.

"I've allowed your mind to enter into a state in which we may talk without you physically being here. For the lands past the wall are treacherous and filled with danger. I've seen what is to come and you are truly the only soul who may have the chance to change the impending doom the living await. But to move forward we must move backwards." he finished

Jon's whole body began to shake. "You're one of the old commanders of the nights watch! They say you disappeared on a ranging mission many years ago, you were truly one of the greatest bastard's who ever lived amongst the seven kingdoms. What could you possibly want with me?"

Jon asked desperately "How is my mind here to begin with? Is this some black magic? Or have i gone as mad as Aerys Targaryen?!" Jon shouted. His hands clutched his black curls.

"Remain calm young one. You will never know all the answers as I do. Even I am limited to what i can see. We don't have much time. Your body remains in a coma like state in Winterfell. As time passes in this realm your body will grow accustomed to the feeling of slumber. I must show you some troubling visions. However troubling they may be to you, you must heed these events and change the outcome of what's to come for the better."

The explanation truly remained on deaf ears. Jon wanted none of this. He was just a bastard of lord Eddard Stark not some savior to come. What could he possibly accomplish that could change whatever this man thought was coming.

"There is no time for this constant questioning. I must show you now. Once you see the events of the past i believe you will have all the answers to why I've called upon you. Reach your hand out and grasp my shoulder. From there I can give you part of my third eye."

Jon truly felt as if he were going insane. But if what this man said was true his whole body would remain in a supposed coma. And victims of that affliction never lasted long. The maester would have him on a clock till he was put to rest for eternity.

Jon reached out his hand and as soon as his hand made contact with the lump of his shoulder the room changed.

The man who was barely able to lift his head was now standing next to him. The cave now gone. But what took it's place was a loud argument among the halls of Winterfell. Jon searched around the large court to find some familiar faces among the turmoil. Seated directly in front of his eyes laid Lord Glover his baldish head gleaming amongst the members of his house.

Across the aisle of benches Lord Manderly and Lord Cerwyn sat as well. Each of them loudly arguing amongst themselves.

Other men also appeared to be in the great halls of Winterfell that Jon immediately recognized as members of the vale. Their house sigil and colors of light green easily spottable from a mile away.

What confused the bastard of Winterfell was the bearded men in heavy furs. Each of them stood quietly awaiting the turmoil to subside as if they had no part in the heavy debate. One in particular caught Jon's eye. He was nowhere near as large as the other men holstered at his side his hair was as red as the roses that inhibited high garden. but his expression of annoyance and arms strapped across his chest kept John curiously wondering who he could be.

Searching for his family, his eyes swiveled to the high table. Possessed by the warden of the North. But as his eyes met who sat at his father's high seat. He truly felt as mad as he did when he first arrived in that cave beyond the wall.

The figure who sat was easily recognizable although much change was spotted amongst his face and hair. A scar across his right eye and stress ever evident amongst the pretty curls that were held up in a pony tail. He wore the same fur coat his father wore everywhere his legs may take them. It was him. Jon.

He saw the familiar face of Sansa next to him, she had to look even more different than he did now. She was just as pretty as his half-sister that awaited in Winterfell. But her look of pure naivety was gone. Replaced with a hardened look of the north.

Jon shifted his eyes to Brynden. "What is this? That is me up there isn't it? How is that even possible? I was to take the black not a few days ago and now I hold the seat of my father?"

Brynden's gaze never shifted from the turmoil that continued to brew. "We are looking into the future to come. Though true you did take the black, your vows were never broken. I won't go into large details but your house was betrayed by the Bolton's. Your whole family whatever was left of it lost Winterfell and Sansa sought you out at the wall. You gathered a fighting force and retook Winterfell."

His raspy voice finished. Jon truly didn't want to know what happened to his father or even his brothers who would take his place as heir to Winterfell. Also missing was Arya who he truly wanted no knowledge of her fate. "But why me? I'm just a bastard. Not even a stark. Surely Sansa or someone else has better blood to be at the high seat of Winterfell!" Jon exclaimed.

His voice caught in his throat awaiting gazes to be upon him. His voice definitely was loud enough to carry to some of the ears that remained seated in front of him and the old lord commander.

But alas nobody even so much as turned to the call out of desperation. "Some of your questions will be answered shortly. Just listen for what's to be said. And before you ask, no nobody can hear you amongst this ruckus. We remain unseen and deaf to these men and women."

Jon calmed a bit. Awaiting for someone to clear the air of his curiosity.

After what felt like an eternity a voice broke out among one of the members of the vale. "You can't expect Knights of the Vale to side with wildling invaders!" he called out.

The room went silent as the red headed man Jon was so curious of retorted back "We didn't invade. We were invited!"

'Since when did wildlings get invited into the north? They're nothing more than rapers and pillagers. Who would possibly bring them across the wall? Especially into the halls of Winterfell.' he thought.

"Well not by me." the man from the vale concluded seating himself among his fellow knights.

As soon as the knight's chair pushed back into the table Jon heard a familiar voice call out "The free folk, the northerners, and the Knights of the Vale fought bravely, fought together, and we won."

Jon's eyes followed the sound from where the voice called out to find it was himself who kept the peace.

He continued. "My father used to say we find out true friends on the battlefield".

Smirking a bit. Jon remembered that saying. When his father used to tell us the stories of Robert's rebellion and the choices many northerners had to make to rebel against the mad king. Many of the men were weary siding amongst themselves in a war of the southerners. But after many battles they became the best of friends. Especially so with himself and Robert Baratheon.

Lord Cerwyn stood amongst the crowd of northerners. "The Bolton's are defeated. The war is over. Winter has come. If the maesters are right, it'll be the coldest one in a thousand years. We should ride home and wait out the coming storms."

It didn't take long for the older version of himself to arise once again. "The war is not over. And I promise you friend, the true enemy won't wait out the storm. He brings the storm."

An eerie sense of despair filled the room. The chattering amongst the houses picked up as quickly as it left off.

Jon turned to find Brynden had not moved his eyes away from his future counterpart. It was almost as if he were studying each and every move he made.

"Sir, if i may. What was I talking about? What enemy brings a storm?" he asked truly curious.

It had to be just some figure of speech. What army could possibly bring about a winter.

"So many questions young one. You will know soon enough. Just keep listening."

Jon nodded begrudgingly. "Your son was butchered at the red wedding, Lord Manderly. But you refused the call."

Jon smiled. Whoever this girl was, she reminded him so much of Arya.

"You swore allegiance to House Stark Lord Glover, but in their hour of greatest need. You refused the call."

Her gaze seemed to be piercing every male lord in the room. Each of them gathering their wits before even thinking of replying back.

"And you, Lord Cerwyn's, your father was skinned alive by Ramsey Bolton. Still you refused the call." She called out. Never letting her glare subside

Lord Cerwyn's head drew down in what appeared to be shame.

"But house Mormont remembers, the north remembers! We know no king but the king in the north whose name is stark."

Jon's head turned towards himself and Sansa. She was smiling a bit. Nothing like the Sansa he knew. She smiled and giggled at just about everything.

Jon also appeared to be smiling, not just his counterpart. A smile from himself at the young ladies words. But what was said next truly made his blood curdle.

"I don't care if he's a bastard. Ned Stark's blood runs through his veins. He's my King from this day until his last day!" She shouted. Her eyes showing nothing but pride for the north and most importantly the Starks of Winterfell.

Jon was beside himself. This was never his to take. 'Lady Stark would truly be turning in her grave if she could see this now'

The men of the north and the vale continue murmuring amongst themselves. Lady Mormont sat down. Almost losing her confidence at the lack of care shown from the fellow houses.

"Lady Mormont speaks harshly and truly.." called out Lord Manderly. Standing quite tall amongst the room full of warriors.

"My son died fighting for Robb Stark, the young wolf. I didn't think we'd find another king in my lifetime. I didn't commit my men to your cause I didn't want more Manderlys dying for nothing." He said his gaze found Jon's.

"But I was wrong. Jon Snow avenged the red wedding! He is the white wolf. The King in the North!"

Manderly sheathed his sword, resting the tip on the ground while kneeling. Lord Glover, a man of few words stood as quickly as Lord Manderly kneeled. "I did not fight beside you on the field and I will regret that, till my dying day. A man can only admit when he was wrong and ask for forgiveness." he almost begged leaning his head down in recognition.

Jon shook his head "There's nothing to forgive, my lord."

Lord Glover almost smirked. "There will be more fights to come. House Glover will stand behind House Stark as we have for a thousand years! And i will stand behind Jon Snow… The King in the North!"

Lord Glover quickly kneeled drawing his blade to the ground.

As soon as his knee hit the ground every northerner, vale member, and even the wildlings that remained in the corner away from the southerners drew their blades. Each making the typical sound of a sheath. They raised them as high to the sky as possible. Not before calling out to the Old Gods. "THE KING IN THE NORTH" over and over again the chant rang out.

Brynden finally turned to see the young Snow to be as pale as milk. "This is the first part of what you need to see. Many circumstances brought you to this one moment in time, but to get here you and your family took many losses. Not just the dead either. The main reason i showed you this is for you to truly understand that you will need to unite these men all once again. But, not just these houses. The rest of Westeros will be needed to fight the coming enemy." Brynden said.

Jon turned to see his eyes were very serious. "What enemy do you keep talking about?" Jon inquired.

The old man never missing a beat replied "You will see."