JON

For the first time in about a week of sailing, the skies were clear, prompting most of the crew and passengers to enjoy the sun on the deck. Jon's gaze was fixed on the North towards the Wall, but he also looked towards Winterfell. According to Jarick, Ramsay was angry about the burning of the Dreadfort and had punished commoners from Winter Town. Hother was concerned about SmallJon, but Jon wasn't worried as Ramsay understood the value of hostages. Jon observed Gawen Glover and Larence sparring on the main deck.

Gawen had adapted well to his responsibilities as a steward and had developed a strong friendship with Ned Umber, the son of SmallJon. Although Ned remained on the mainland with Jon's army as they made their way to Winterfell, Gawen accompanied him. Galbart Glover approached Gawen as he observed the two sparring, standing upright as Jon rested on the railing.

"It appears that your nephew and Larence have formed a good friendship, and your nephew demonstrates quick learning abilities."

"Yes, Your Grace, they have grown up together for quite some time since I agreed to raise the boy. He is a good man".

Jon quickly looked at him, ensuring that Galbart noticed he was looking at him.

"Is he not the only remaining son of Halys Hornwood?"

"He is, Your Majesty. He is young, but he has a good mind, and he is very loyal. If you were to ask me if it should be Larence Hornwood, I would be inclined to agree."

Jon nodded briefly.

"From a political standpoint, it is logical to address the long-standing dispute over the Hornwood lands. I would like to discuss this matter with him after our visit to White Harbor. However, if you can attest to his character, then I believe there is no reason why we cannot begin drafting a letter of legitimization."

After observing their sparring session for a little longer, Jon proceeded to the main cabin where he would be sleeping. The room was too spacious for his liking, but the captain had insisted and Jon was eager to begin. He sat down with a sigh, glancing once again at the unrolled scroll that had been presented to him at Widow's Watch.

"As you commanded, we presented your sister with the evidence of Baelish's existence, and she was given a room with people listening at the walls. Thankfully, she remained loyal to you and refused to listen to that deceitful man. In his desperation, he revealed some information to her that he had not yet shared with our interrogators. It appears that while he was in King's Landing, there were discussions about sending the Kingslayer to break the Siege of Riverrun, and Edmure Tully has been sent to the camps while his wife and young son are still at the Twins. Torrhen's Square now displays your banner once again, although our siege of Barrowton is still ongoing. Lady Dustin has very few loyal men, so we can spare some to assist Riverrun."

He had been staring at the letter for nearly a week, contemplating his options and realizing that time was running out. Jon understood that one of Robb's mistakes was staying in the Riverlands for too long, which had greatly weakened the North. Should he ignore this part of his kingdom while trying to regain control? A part of him wanted to let the Lannisters destroy Lady Stark's home and erase the Tully name. Catelyn Stark's family would never support him; her brother and Uncle would likely rise up to declare Sansa or Rickon as the true heir to Robb. Although Brynden Tully may be a skilled commander, he would not serve Jon as long as Sansa or Rickon were alive. Suddenly, a cold thought crossed Jon's mind, causing him to lean back in his chair and feel a wave of nausea. Despite potentially being viewed as cruel and dark, he considered attempting to win over the Riverlands. If not successful, it would at least disrupt the Lannister's plans. Jon glanced at Jarrick's large eagle, resting on its perch, which the wildling skinchanger had left with Jon to gather information from the mainland. The bird would warg into it every hour to check for any messages. Quickly, Jon grabbed parchment and a quill, wrote a message, and attached it to the eagle's leg. After a short wait, the eagle tensed, glanced at its leg, and flew out of the open window. That night, Jon's sleep was restless, but the presence of his silver-haired Aunt provided some comfort.

A few days later, Jon found himself standing alone on the beach, with the towering white walls of White Harbor in front of him. He wished Ghost was there for comfort, but knew it was too risky. Jon gazed at the city, hoping to summon the Onion Knight back. Davos had left just an hour ago to inform the Manderlys of the King's arrival. Jon dreaded the possibility of seeing Davos' severed hand and head on the walls. After another hour, a hurried group emerged from the foggy morning. Jon readied himself for a fight, but relaxed upon seeing Davos unharmed at the center of the group.

"Your Majesty, these men will escort us to the Wolf's Lair to meet Lord Manderly. It seems that many things have changed during our sea voyage."

The men respectfully lowered their heads, and Jon nodded back before gesturing for them to lead the way towards a well-hidden sewer entrance at the mouth of the White Knife. It took them approximately an hour or more to slowly navigate through the muck of the tunnel, but Jon didn't voice any complaints. Eventually, they arrived at a solitary ladder. Some men went up first, followed closely by Ser Davos and Jon. Davos quickly recognized the dimly lit rooms of the current prison in White Harbor and even noticed the roots of the weirwood tree in the corners. Standing at the doorway was a man with one eye and one leg, awaiting their arrival. Davos leaned in and began whispering into Jon's ear.

"That is Ser Bartimus, who is the castellan of the Wolf's Den."

The older man shook Jon's head, gestured towards him, and then walked away, leaving Jon to shrug and follow. Eventually, they reached the godwood, where Jon noticed Lord Manderly sitting by the tree. Jon felt some relief, until he saw the tied-up and silenced men nearby. He questioned Lord Manderly with a raised eyebrow, to which Lord Manderly smiled and then stood up from his chair to kneel. After kneeling, he started speaking.

"Your Grace, in the name of House Manderly and as proof of our devotion to you, allow me to present Rhaegar, Seamund and Jared of House Frey, so that you may do as you wish."

"Arise, Lord Manderly, I thank you for your loyalty. Although I am at a loss as to the logic of your gift. Aren't these the men who were preventing you from pledging your loyalty before because of their engagement to your granddaughters?"

Wyman Manderly took a moment to catch his breath before he smiled at Jon.

"The irony is that Ramsay Bolton actually helped our cause, Your Majesty."

"How come?"

"When news of the burning of the Dreadfort reached Winterfell, Ramsay sent word to the Houses that you had killed Lady Sansa and were once again looking for the True Bride of the North. When I offered him something, he immediately called off wedding of my dear granddaughters. In fact, Lord Ramsay is heading to White Harbor as we speak, and he may arrive within the next few days. "

Jon's eyes widened in surprise as he realized that Ramsay had chosen to execute this unexpected plan. He had initially anticipated an attack by Ramsay outside of Winterfell, but had never even considered the possibility of him resorting to this particular strategy. Jon realized that if Ramsay was already close to reaching White Harbor, he might be able to bring an end to the war without engaging in a battle for Winterfell. Turning his gaze towards Lord Manderly, Jon noticed that the lord was staring at him with great intensity.

"What are you looking for, Lord Manderly?" Perhaps some traces of my unknown mother?

"No, no, Your Majesty. I realize just now how much you look like."

"My father?" Jon interrupted.

Wyman continued to stare at him for a moment, then he nodded slowly.

"Yes, you have the true appearance of a Stark, which I'm sure your father was happy about."

Jon felt his blood run cold upon hearing the Lord of White Harbor's words, causing him to swiftly shift his focus to the chained men on the ground. All three of them had visibly reacted to his menacing demeanor, with two of them even soiling themselves in fear. Despite the turmoil of emotions within him, Jon's voice remained steady and calm.

"Un-gag them, Lord Manderly, so they can speak their last words. I will not spend another second in a room with a Frey without spilling their blood."

The guard quickly pulled the cloth from their mouth, and, naturally, they started begging for mercy. Jon silenced one of them by burying his blade in the man's throat, causing the others to be drenched in their relative's blood.

"How dare you beg for mercy? Beg for mercy? How many Northerners at the Red Wedding begged for mercy? Did you give them mercy, or did you just slit their throats and move on to the next victim. No, the only mercy I can give You will die soon instead of the retribution I have planned for the rest of your family."

After it ended, Lord Manderly stood next to Jon, remaining silent for a moment before he started to speak softly.

"You know, when I heard about your campaign, I must admit I was reluctant to join it. Your father and brother were good men, but honorable ones, and it was this honor that cost them their lives. They couldn't, or simply wouldn't make difficult decisions. I'm glad to see that the North will be in the hands of someone who can make these choices. Seven knows we need this."

"I concur with your statement. The North has endured hardships for an extended period. Shall we notify the ship I came on that it can safely dock?"

Lord Manderly gave a nod.

"Regrettably, the harbor and docks are filled with an excessive number of spies, hence we will need to relocate from this place. Luckily, there is a concealed route leading from the Wolf's Den to New Castle. I have prepared a comforting meal and comfortable sleeping arrangements for all of you at that location."

Jon smiled and shook hands with the Lord of White Harbor.

"If you throw a bone to my direwolf, you might become his second best friend. The sea is not a good place for a direwolf."

"Then we must find the greatest bone for your brave companion. No one should say that the Manderley family treated their king's favorite pet with anything less than it deserved."

Later that evening, Jon excused himself from the lavish feast that Lord Manderly had organized for him and the accompanying lords. They dined in his private solar due to the possibility of spies in White Harbor, although Jon had allowed Marlon Manderly, the captain of the city guard, to eliminate them. As Jon walked towards the open balcony with a view of the sea and city below, he clenched his scarred hand multiple times, using the pain to refocus himself. Although he lacked expertise in politics and speaking deceitfully, Jon had some knowledge. After all, he had negotiated a contract with the Iron Bank. However, Wyman Manderly was a completely different challenge. He had offered his granddaughters as potential brides to the new King on multiple occasions, possibly more than Jon realized. Despite Jon politely declining and providing various reasons, Manderly persisted. Even when Jon, Lord Glover, and Lord Reed spoke about the Army of the Dead, the Lord of White Harbor remained steadfast, even daring to bring up Jon's uncle's marriage to Lady Stark in order to gain the support of the Riverlands. This was when Jon lost his temper and reminded Lord Manderly that the circumstances were different, as his uncle's marriage aimed to secure the loyalty of a separate kingdom, not a vassal who had already pledged allegiance to his king. Jon then walked away.

Alone now, he started thinking about Wynafryd and Wylla Manderly, choosing to ignore the icy chill running through his veins. It was a suitable match that would help him gain the support of the North. However, his thoughts kept drifting towards his family in the South, as they had been for the past few weeks. Jon was not naive, he knew he would need the assistance of the South to fight against the Army of the Dead and survive the approaching winter. While he planned to kill any Lannister he encountered, he would give the other southerners a chance. A small part of him wished he could show them a wight to make them realize the true danger, but he understood it was impossible. The South only truly listened to the person on the Iron Throne. Although he did not desire it, nor did he want to kill people for power, Jon knew he had to do what was necessary. He believed that revealing his true name and identity, supported by the documents given to him by Howland Reed, could potentially gain him significant support. Many former loyalists would eagerly support the return of House Targaryen to the Throne, particularly someone who had been raised with honor in Westeros. However, Jon also knew that some former loyalists might see his Aunt as a threat to his reign and try to eliminate her to prove their loyalty to him. Jon would rather face the knives of his brothers than cause harm to his remaining family. He didn't know how or when, but he had to inform Daenerys of his true identity before anyone else. After all, they were family. Together, they could navigate the complex world of politics and claims. That night, he slept peacefully, dreaming of the gentle rocking of the boat.

The following morning, Jon was filled with a cold resolve as he prepared for the arrival of the Bolton bastard's retinue at White Harbor. He swiftly made his way to the meeting hall, where the Northern Lords were strategizing on how to catch Ramsay off guard and apprehend him. Jon was taken aback by the discussion and decided to speak up.

"There will be no plans to arrest and detain the man who helped destroy my family, my lords."

"We agree on this, but we must still conduct a trial to demonstrate that."

"No. This is his trial, this is his sentence. I, Jon Stark, King in the North, hereby sentence Ramsay Snow to death."

The room was silent for several minutes, watching John with shock on their faces. He stood over the table, looking at the map of the city and the surrounding landscape. Finally he spoke in a quiet voice:

"Ser Marlon."

The tall knight stepped forward, holding his distinct helm at his waist.

"Yes, Your Grace."

"I have three requests of you."

Jon ignored the man's glance towards his cousin Wyman, but he still noticed it.

"If it is in my power, I will achieve anything you wish."

"Thank you. My first order is to find and gather all spies in this city that are believed to be working for the Lannisters. They will be thoroughly interrogated and then their heads will be displayed on the walls of the city. Second, I need City Watch-style armor tailored to my height and a helmet that covers my features and face. I'll be there too when I meet Ramsay. "

"Both requests can be granted, Your Grace. What's the third one?"

Jon was quiet as he thought about his next words. He had only come up with his idea that morning and was unsure of its origins. The one thing he was certain of was that it would have a significant impact. He knew that his idea would distinguish him from his Uncle Ned Stark, and this realization only fueled his determination. With newfound resolve, he stared Ser Marlon in the eye and spoke.

"I am in search of a group of highly skilled marksmen from the city, whether they are members of the watch or simply hunters. The only criteria I have is their proficiency with a bow and their willingness to obey commands without hesitation."

RAMSAY

Ramsay Bolton's final sight was the icy glare in Jon's eyes as he lowered his hand. They all waited on horseback outside the city, making the Bolton riders halt far from the gates. Ramsay had started demanding his bride to appear, but one of the guards removed their helmet, revealing dark hair and grey eyes. Ramsay didn't provoke them or say a word, he simply raised his hand in greeting and then let it drop. The first arrow struck him above his hip, causing a sharp and shocking pain that silenced him. The second arrow hit his thigh, and another struck his shoulder. The rest of the arrows found their targets on his body and the chests of his companions. For some reason, Ramsay found himself on the ground, trapped beneath his horse and with his wife's illegitimate brother looking down at him. A low growl, deeper and darker than his dogs, emanated from the bastard king. Leaning closer, he whispered chillingly into Ramsay's ear, causing him to strain in order to hear.

"Winterfell belongs to me, as well as the rest of the North. You and your deceitful family will be reduced to nothing but dust and ashes, not even worthy of a song."

After pushing away from Ramsay, he mounted his horse and said something to someone behind him. The last sensation he experienced was the intense and burning pain of fangs on his face, causing him to scream into the silent wind.