The Bite of Winter

Jon

Three weeks after Robb left Greywater Watch

Jon sat at the head of the great hall, as Edd handed him a letter. 'Dark wings, dark words.' Jon had thought as he peeled away the Boltons seal. He hadn't expected the words to be as dark as those that he found in the letter. 

It was from Ramsay Bolton, son of Roose Bolton who had slain Lady Catelyn and dealt Robb's fatal blow at the Red Wedding, was now marrying Arya. Jon knew that Arya would rather die than wed anyone with the Bolton name. 

His vision had gone dark, he could hear his brothers as he dropped the letter and made for the exit to the hall. All he could think of was how he needed to help Arya. He felt hands grab at him, and he shoved the figure against the wall, a snarl escaping his lips. Ghost growled, entering a defensive stance behind him. 

His vision cleared enough for him to realize that it was Edd. He released him and looked around, the eyes of the Watch on him. Allister stood where he had been seated, reading the letter. "You can't go after her. When you took your vows, you renounced your family and accepted the Watch as your brothers." His voice was almost sad as if he knew Jon's pain. Nobody here knew Jon's pain. 

"I will help her," Jon growled before leaving the hall. He could hear the murmurs behind his back, but he ignored them.

He trudged through the snow, heading towards his solar to gather some of his things and come up with a plan. As much as he wanted to ride to Winterfell and tear Bolton apart himself, he knew that it was folly. Tormund might be able to convince a few Free Folk to help him, and if they could meet Ramsay in the field with winter storms on their side, they could beat him. 

He entered the room tucked behind the armory, slamming his door shut. He tore through a few old ledgers, desperate to find correspondence from Northern houses that had declared for Stannis, or at least denounced house Bolton. 

He heard a soft knock on the door. "Come in." He called, still searching the piles of documents. 

Asha stepped in.

"You never knock," Jon mumbled, glancing up at her.

She ignored his comment. "Your men are talking about charging you with desertion if you leave." She said, stepping towards him. 

"I won't desert. I will come back as soon as Arya is safe." 

"They don't care. They will take this as you breaking your vows. Jon, please take a second and think about what you're about to do."

Jon opened his mouth to argue, but he stopped himself from letting the words out. She was right. He would be breaking his vows, but he would happily pay the price of breaking his vows for Arya's safety. His anger dissipated and his shoulders sunk, eyes falling to the floor. He suddenly felt tired more than anything else. "What would you do if you were in my place?" His voice was hoarse. 

Asha reached forward and grabbed Jon's burnt hand, tracing the scars on it with her fingers. He would normally pull away, but the gesture felt comforting to him and he needed the comfort right now. "When Theon was taken, we all knew the truth. He would be living with the honorable Ned Stark. He would never be beaten, harmed, or mistreated. He would join the Stark family and probably be happy for the duration of his time. But if my father ever fell out of line, honorable Ned Stark would still take Theon's head. He was ten when he was taken, and I was one and three. I begged my father to allow me to go after him. I told him that I would fight my way into Winterfell myself if I had to." 

Her other hand reached up and caress his cheek. He found himself leaning into it. "But Balon never permitted me to leave. For a while, I fought against everyone I could. I was desperate to get to him. But as time went on, the anger diminished. Then the pain left, the sadness left. Theon became a memory. A boy that I once knew."

Jon pulled away. "I will never allow Arya to suffer because I couldn't come to her aid." He returned to his search. 

"Do you really that Arya would want you to die for her? Even if you survive the Bolton Bastard, the Watch will execute you." 

"Why do you care?" Jon snapped. "She is my sister. I don't care what happens to me as long as she is safe."

Asha's mouth formed a line. "Just consider what I said." She whispered as she left the room. 

Exhaustion took over Jon. He unclipped Longclaw from his belt and propped it against his desk. He fell into his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache beginning to form. 

He heard another knock. "Asha--" He stopped when Bowen Marsh stepped in.

"Lord Commander, we found your uncle, Benjen. Please come quick. He is in grave condition." Marsh said. Jon jumped up and followed Marsh out. He closed his door behind him, locking Ghost in the room. His mind was whirling. He had presumed Benjen to be dead, if he wasn't then maybe he could help Jon save Arya, or at least convince the watch to allow him to save her.

They rushed through the snow until they reached a cluster of men. Jon pushed his way through them searching for his uncle with wild eyes. He never saw the knife coming.