K so here I sit working on Broken Angel, Fire and Shadow, and Mafia Queen's Game, and for some reason, rampant plot bunnies are filling my head. Just like the latter two, this will be another little side project, I am dedicated to finishing Broken Angel before year is out, this is simply putting another idea out there, to get it out of my head, as well as to gauge if it's something I'd want to write about in the future.

This is a Game of Thrones, LOTR Shadow of War Crossover Ie, Shadow of War is, in and of itself an AU from canon LOTR, and I'll be borrowing elements specifically from Shadow of War. There will also be minor elements taken from other fantasy literature, some Harry Potter, some Dark Souls, Elder Scrolls, Demonatta series, Dragon Age, Diablo, and various others.

Cliche's: Powerful Jon, Jon/Daenerys/Sansa, Dark Jon, The One Ring Jon, Dark Dragon Animagus. Gore, Incest, Lemons, Limes, Death, and a Jon who is much more ruthless then in the show.

Full Summary: Stories from distant lands, speak of a great battle, a battle that was fought between light and dark. Darkness consumed the Earth and swept over the land, only a last Alliance of the good and righteous peoples of the Earth was enough to stop it, but the Darkness was not destroyed. When the ring was cut from Sauron's hand, it passed to Isildur. When the Ring betrayed Isildur, it passed to the creature Gollum. When circumstance brought them together, the Ring passed to Bilbo Baggins. And that is where it would have stayed, except for an unlikely runnin. On his trip home from the Dwarven conflict, Bilbo and Gandalf are ambushed by a contingent of orcs, led by a strange woman, they seize the ring before Bilbo can escape and they quickly disappear into the unknown.

The One Ring has a mind of it's own, and it's will is greater then any could possibly expect. The One Ring finds it's way back to it's master, his plan for revenge, finally ready to commence. Sauron seals his essence fully into the Ring, becoming one with it, and all of his power again, the Ring is then sent far from Middle Earth, far from the prying eyes of the Elves, and Men. Far from any who could possibly stop what was about to happen. Carried in the hands of a withered old woman, guided by a troop of Wraiths, surrounded by an army of orcs, the Ring is taken far across the sea, to distant lands.

It is the year 302 AC, beyond the Wall and wardrums beat upon the frozen peaks of the Frostfangs, where not even the dead wander. The Massacre of Hardhome had just finished and Jon Snow leads what remains back to Castle Black. Within his troop is a withered old crone. A crooked woman, with a toothless grin, and pale eyes. She watches the Lord Commander, as whispers fill her ears, the Dark Lord's time has come again.

Rise of the Dark Lord

Chapter 1: Rebirth

Jon Snow, stood in silence as the wildlings marched past him into the tunnel leading into Castle Black. Many offered him there nods of thanks as they moved beyond the wall. Jon couldn't return their happiness. The things he'd seen at Hardhome, what he'd experienced on this trek, it had shaken him to his very core. His eyes went over the crowd for probably the hundredth time, as he scanned the faces, his eyes settled on a hunched figure that slowly moved with the crowd. This figure stood out because if was draped in a large red blanket. The blood red color, stood out from the grays and browns that surrounded it. He gave the figure a curious glance, as it passed, and was able to make out the face of a very old woman.

She must have seen at least as many years as Maester Aemon, and moved in much the same way. None of the other Wildlings seemed to notice or care to assist the ancient woman and Jon couldn't help the swell of pity he felt for her.

It was cold on the wall, always cold, so cold in fact that on a good day, one's bones only mildly ached from the chill. Today was worse, Winter was fast approaching and Jon could only imagine what the cold must feel like at that age.

With a sigh, he moved from his spot and approached the woman. Within moments he was by her side.

"Do you need some help?" Jon asked as he offered her his arm. With obvious difficulty, the woman raised her gaze to meet his. Jon was surprised when empty, milky globes stared back at him, much like Maester Aemon's eyes. It was obvious to Jon that if she wasn't blind, she was very close to it.

"Thank you young man." The old woman replied as she took hold of his arm and moved with him and the crowd, further into the tunnel.

"This is a kind thing you are doing for us, Lord Commander." The old woman stated with a light chuckle, earning a look from Jon.

"You know who I am?" Jon inquired, obviously surprised due to believing that she was blind.

"Yes, I know you very well. I recognize your voice." The woman responded, earning a nod from Jon. He allowed his confusion to fade as he guessed that she must have heard him at Hardhome.

The two were quiet as they moved with the crowd through the tunnel and into Castle Black. Jon made sure to move with the elder woman, helping her keep her feet.

When they arrived with the others, she placed her hand on the arm he was using to steady her and offered him a toothless grin. "Thank you again, Lord Commander."

"No thanks necessary. I'm just doing what's right." Jon replied, offering the woman a small smile.

"Still, I am glad that you stopped to help me. You have a good heart. And doing the right thing, should be rewarded from time to time." The old woman stated as she reached into her clothes, grasping for something.

"There's no need, it was simply a kind gesture, nothing more." Jon tried to say, only for the woman to let out a laugh as she withdrew something from her pocket.

"Please Lord Commander, you've done so much for us, allow me to do one small thing for you. Take this, it's a good luck charm. Been in my possession for nearly fifty years. I am no longer in need of it, I hope it brings you as much fortune as it has brought me." The old woman stated as she placed something in his hand and closed it around the item. Jon wanted to again refuse, but the woman didn't seem like she'd be willing to take no for an answer.

With a light sigh he offered her a nod and a thanks. Despite her age, she was quick to turn and start to shuffle away from him, slowly disappearing into the crowd of Wildlings that was massing by the gates.

Jon watched her vanish into the group before glancing down at his hand. His fist was still closed around whatever she had placed in him hand. He slowly opened it to find a golden ring sitting in his palm.

Immediately Jon's eyes shot back up towards where the woman had been but she was no longer in sight. He let out another sigh, knowing he definitely shouldn't keep something as precious as this. The golden band was quite simple, nothing about it was majorly noteworthy. No stones were embedded in it, no inscription written anywhere on it. Just a plain, simple gold ring.

Jon let out another sigh. He'd never been one for jewelry, but as an act of kindness he'd at least keep the trinket on him, as a way of not insulting the kind old woman. He'd stay on the lookout though, and try to return it if he ever saw her again.

Just as he thought that a sound caught his ear. It sounded almost like whispering.

Jon found himself slowly glancing around the castle. The whispering seemed to be coming from everywhere, and yet it was in a language he didn't understand.

Finally his eyes drifted down to the Ring in his hand. He stared at it for several long moments until he felt someone step up to him. The whispering immediately stopped and Jon's hand snapped shut, hiding the Ring from sight.

"You have a good hear, Jon Snow." Came the words from Ser Alliser Thorne.

Jon didn't bother turning his gaze to the man. He knew there would be a follow-up to that statement.

"It'll get us all killed." Ser Alliser added and marched off. Jon stood in silence for several long moments before walking off.

Several hours later he found himself sitting in his office, his eyes drifting over the golden Ring he'd been given. The whispers had returned, and Jon now knew they were somehow coming from the Ring. Despite how uneasy he felt, for some reason, Jon couldn't bring himself to toss it away. His eyes seemed to glaze over as he stared at it. The longer he stared the more a vision started to fill Jon's gaze. In this vision Jon stood over the body of the Night King. The creature was broken, defeated, and Jon stood victorious. On his finger was the Ring itself.

Jon blinked a few times as he heard a chuckle fill the quiet room.

His eyes shot over to it's source. In the dark corner of his office sat a hunched figure, draped in red.

"You." Jon stated, as he rose to his feet, his hands drifting towards Longclaw.

"Yes, indeed. Great things we can expect from you Jon Snow. Great things indeed." The weathered old voice replied.

"Who are you? What is this thing?" Jon demanded, his eyes darting between the woman and the golden ring that now sat in the center of his desk.

"I am no one, and will soon be nothing more then food for the Earth. That thing, is not a thing, it is a gift. One to aide you in destroying your enemies. The Night King, the Boltons, the Lannisters, The Freys. All those who have done you wrong. That is your tool to gain justice." The Old woman replied earning confusion from Jon.

"How is a ring supposed to help me defeat the Night King?" Jon asked as he stated down at the ring, eyeing it curiously.

"Even the Night King, knows to be weary of the dark." The woman replied, as Jon returned his gaze to her.

"You will see, soon enough my lord. You were chosen for a special purpose, to bring and order to these chaotic lands. That ring, will be your greatest ally. Your ultimate tool. Put it on, and you will understand my meaning." She stated with a laugh.

Jon once again stared down at the ring, his ears filling with whispers. Despite not knowing what they were saying, he felt almost compelled to reach out and take the ring. It felt nearly weightless in his fingers as he brought it up to his gaze, he held it out in front of his face and started to lose himself while staring at it.

Blinking a few times he tore his gaze from the Ring, and glanced back to where the old woman was, only to find her missing from her spot.

Jon blinked a few more times his eyes widening in surprise. It took him a few moments but he finally realized just what she was. She was a witch. She had to be. He had just let some sort of witch into the North. Jon let out another sigh as he sat back down in his chair, and his eyes returned to the Ring.

An internal debate began to whether or not he should do what the woman said. After what he'd seen at Hardhome, Jon was willing to do just about anything to stop what he knew was coming. He knew he couldn't defeat the Night King without help, if somehow allying with a witch from beyond the wall would aide him in defeating the White Walkers, then Jon was willing to take that risk.

With only a moment of trepidation, Jon held the ring out. He then slowly brought it down to his Left hand and slid the ring onto his finger.

Jon's eyes shot wide as the whole world became white. Wind blew from an unknown place and a powerful chill filled the air. This chill was different from the cold outside, this cold was like the cold of death.

Jon's eyes shot around then back to his hand where he wore the ring. His eyes widened further as they beheld burning symbols carved into the ring itself. He couldn't read it, yet something told him that there was unimaginable power within this ring. His breath quickened and he turned his gaze about. The walls started to shimmer and ghastly figures began to approach.

Jon shot to his feet as out of the walls before him, nine beings marched up to him. Each strode with powerful purpose, the kind of stride he had often seen in his late father Ned Stark. Despite obviously being dead, all nine beings held a certain elegance to them.

Out of the nine, only two were woman, and yet all of them looked like some form of royalty or another.

Jon didn't know what to make of them, his first instinct was to treat them like whites, which is what they looked like, but there was something about them that told him that wasn't true. The whispering was glowing louder now and the wall behind the nine beings was slowly starting to glow with an orangish hue.

Suddenly all nine beings dropped to a knee and bowed low. When they did that, the wall behind them, erupted into flame. Jon felt his heart-rate quicken, his hands were immediately wrapped around Longclaw. He drew the sword and held it at the ready. Within the flames he saw something, a being standing there staring back at him.

This being was striding towards him with power and purpose. As it got closer it quickly began to tower over Jon until it soon became apparent that whatever this thing was, it was larger then even the Mountain that Rides.

Jon was just starting to make out the blackened platemail of the beings armor when another eruption of Flame, temporarily blinded Jon, forcing him to shield his eyes. When he glanced back again, the flames were gone, and so was the mountainous being. In it's place stood a man. This man was draped in white robes and wore a kind, charming smile. His eyes glowed a dim orange, like fire was waiting within them, and his hair was a white as the snow. The man's ears were also pointed and he looked quite aristocratic.

"Hello Jon." His voice came out like a gentle, soothing melody.

"Who are you?" Jon asked, his eyes focused on the man, but he was sure to keep an eye on the nine kneeling figures as well.

"You may call me Annatar." The man responded.

"Where did you come from? How did you get in here?" Jon found himself asked, his sword still raised.

"I came from a faraway land, and as for your second question, I am not actually here. I am there." The man replied as he pointed towards the ring on Jon's fingers.

"What?" Jon stated as his eyes shot down to the glowing ring.

"My spirit lays within that Ring. It was gifted to you because you have the strength to wield it." Annatar responded.

"Why? Why me?" Jon asked, as he slowly lowered his sword.

"Because… you believe, as I do, the justice and order must be brought to the world. That the petty differences between races and peoples is unimportant. You believe in truth and peace. I wish to help to attain these things. I wish to see peace brought to these lands." Annatar responded.

"Why? You said you came from somewhere far away. Why do you care about Westoros, or the North?" Jon inquired.

"Because you do. Because by helping you, I hope you convince you to help me." Annatar responded as he took a step closer to Jon.

"Help you with what?" Jon inquired, never taking his eyes off the man in white.

"With bringing peace to my home. What do you say Jon Snow. We work together, you and I, to defeat the Night King and save Westoros, and then we can work together to save my home as well." Annatar stated with a kind smile, that Jon couldn't help but feel was genuine. The man's words were soft yet purposeful. He seemed like a good person at heart, which was something that Jon could at least respect.

"The witch in red, she said that I could stop the White Walkers with this ring. You say so as well. Say I believe that, say I believe that any of this is real, I can't do it alone." Jon stated as his eyes slowly drifted down to the ring.

"You aren't alone Jon Snow. Not anymore. I will aide you in this endeavor." Annatar stated as he slowly cleared the distance between the two, stepping right up next to Jon and offering his hand.

Jon stared at it for several moments, wondering what to do. Finally he decided that it couldn't hurt to accept. The White Walkers had magic on their side. According to the old stories, magic was used to beat them last time. If this Ring would give Jon magical powers, then they may just have a chance of repeating what their ancestors did thousands of years ago. With a sigh, Jon locked eyes with the strange man, he searched them for any signs of deceit or malicious intent. What he saw was surprising. Despite the glowing orange hue to them, this Annatar's eyes were quint and genuine, filled with passion and what could only be described as wisdom.

After several seconds, Jon reached out and grasped Annatar's arm. The two locked eyes and offered each other nods.

Before Jon could ask, what would happen next, everything faded from view and returned to normal. Annatar and his nine companions were now gone, and everything looked normal again.

Jon looked back and forth, wondering what had just happened, when his eyes returned to the ring on his finger. It still glowed dimly.

"Wha-" Jon began only for a voice, that sounded like it was speaking in his head to cut him off.

"Someone is coming." Annatar whispered, earning surprise from Jon.

"Where are you?" Jon asked as he glanced around.

"With you." Came the simple reply. Jon turned his gaze back to the ring for several long seconds before he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Yes?" Jon called out. A few moments later, a member of the Night's Watch entered.

"Lord Commander, a man just arrived. He claims to have news of your uncle." The man stated.

"What? Uncle Benjen?" Jon responded as he took a step forward.

"Yes, he's waiting outside." The man replied.

"He's lying, Jon." Jon heard Annatar whisper. This stopped Jon in his tracks. A look of confusion flooded his features, then it morphed into concern. Was this one of the Ring's powers? Could Annatar sense if people were lying? Jon didn't know, but he decided that caution was the better part of valor.

Grabbing his sword, he followed after the man whom seemed to hesitate just a bit when he saw that Jon had grabbed Longclaw.

Seeing the man hesitate, filled Jon with even more concern. He followed the man outside into the courtyard where a number of fellow watchmen were gathered around something. Jon was quick to march through the crowd, his heart-rate quickening. When he finally made it to the other side, his eyes came to rest on a small piece of wood, with the words 'Traitor' written on it.

At that moment, Jon realized that Annatar had been right. Jon slowly turned around, only to find Ser Alliser directly behind him.

The two men locked eyes, and in them, Jon could only see smug satisfaction.

"For the Watch." Ser Alliser stated as he jabbed a knife forward towards Jon's gut.

Jon nearly cringed as he waited for the pain. He saw Alliser's eyes go wide, and the pain never came. Glancing down, Jon spotted a strange glow around his body, it looked as it someone, who wasn't fully there, was standing exactly where he was. He spotted the knife in Ser Alliser's hand, and he spotted a pair of arms holding the knife at bay. He recognized the white sleeves of the robes that Annatar had been wearing.

"They want to kill you, Jon." Annatar's voice rung in his ears. It was in that moment that Jon began to realize the power of the item now in his possession. With the Ring, he and this Annatar could fight together, almost as one.

Locking eyes with Ser Alliser, Jon's own filled with hate and anger.

In one motion, Jon drew Longclaw from it's scabbard, and sliced Ser Alliser from hip to shoulder.

The man went down with a scream of pain, as Jon stepped over his bleeding form, his eyes locked on the crowd of traitors that were slowly backing away from him.

He recognized many of these men. Men he'd worked with for years. That made their betrayal sting even worse.

"You were going to kill me? For doing the right thing?" Jon demanded as he slowly approached the group.

No one answered for several seconds. They were all staring at him with terror in their eyes, having just witnessed what looked like a ghost leap off of Jon's body to stop Alliser's attack.

Finally, after several moments, one man regained his composure and let out a growl. He shot forward, knife in hand, but he didn't make it far.

With a deft hand, Jon batted away the strike and swung his blade low, taking off both of his attackers legs with incredible ease.

The strength of his strike was incredible. It was like he was stronger now. Faster too. Jon's eyes slowly began to glow with orange flame as he stepped over the screaming form of his legless attacker and drove Longclaw into his heart.

He then turned his attention back to the crowd who were now immensely frightened.

"You would have me murdered? My own brothers?" Jon demanded again. His eyes now glowing with incredible brightness as they filled further will anger, and sadness.

"You're no brother of ours! You're a monster! A demon!" One man screamed at him, earning several chants of agreement.

It tore at Jon's heart to hear that. That they thought so little of him. After all this time, he had tried to do what was best for everyone, and as reward for his good deed, his own brothers intended to murder him.

With a battle-cry four men charged at Jon at once. He slowly started to backpedal and he prepared to fend off their assault.

"Attack." Annatar commanded him.

"Wha- But..." "Attack!"Jon knew that to attack when being charged by four opponents at once was foolish, but he also knew that he wasn't alone. Annatar had stopped Alliser's blade without Jon needing to do anything. If Annatar could fully operate without Jon's input, then that meant that Jon had an avenue of attack and defense. His new companion watching his back, while he went on the offensive.

Taking a risk, Jon pushed forward, parrying the first strike from one of his attackers, but that left him open to the second strike from another. Before the knife could even get closer, Annatar stepped off of Jon's body, grabbing the man by his arm and twisted it painfully, leading to a loud crack, and a scream of pain. His knife fell from his hand, which Annatar quickly seized and drove into the man's skull silencing his screams. He then disappeared from view.

Cold determination filled Jon's eyes at that. He wasn't alone. He now had an ally to fight with him in any battle. With a downward slash, Jon dropped one of the three remaining attackers. Now one stood before him, and one stood behind him. Both rushed forward at once, screams of rage, erupting from their mouths. Jon brought his sword up to parry the frontal strike, while once again, Annatar shot forward from Jon's body, armed with his own sword that looked like an ethereal copy of Longclaw, and drove said sword into the second attacker's chest.

With one man remaining, Jon pushed forward, blocking a follow-up jab from the man's knife. He then spotted an opening and with a lightning fast swing of his sword, he took off the man's head.

Jon stared down at the headless corpse for several long moments. He didn't feel winded. He didn't feel strained. In fact, Jon felt stronger then he ever had. Power flowed through his veins, and he knew it. He felt unstoppable, like he could face the Night King, right now, and win.

His eyes turned back to the crowd who was gaping at him with disbelief. By now, others had started to exit out into the courtyard with confused looks on their faces.

Among them, Edd, Ser Davos Seaworth, and the Red Woman, Melisandre.

"What the fuck is going on out here!?" Edd called out, his hand going to his sword.

Jon shot a look towards him, and his heart filled with relief. It was obvious that not all members of the Night's Watch had decided to partake in this brutal act of betrayal.

"These men, tried to murder me. For doing what was right." Jon called out, and many of the onlookers turned towards the small crowd of remaining traitors.

"He's a monster! Look at his eyes! He's been possessed by something!" Olly shouted, stepped out of the crowd and pointing an accusatory finger at Jon.

That was like a knife to the heart for Jon. To see that even Olly was working with the conspirators. With a heavy sigh, Jon started to march towards the remaining collection of traitors.

"For attempting to murder me. For your conspiracy. For your betrayal. I hereby sentence you all to death. If any of you have any last words… now's the time." Jon stated. Hearing that, a few of his allies like Edd and Ser Davos, moved down to stand by his side.

Out of the handful of traitors remaining, a few shook their heads in defiance, while two fell to their knees and started begging. The remainder could only stand there, stunned as they realized that this would be their last night in this world. Even Olly stood with tears streaming down his face, as Jon marched towards him.

It broke his heart to see the young man like that, but his betrayal demanded retribution. Jon could never trust them again, never put his life in their hands. They were no better then the White Walkers, now. He had to put them down. All of them.

Just as he got close, Olly let out a cry and tried to make a stab at Jon. His actions sealed his fate, Jon swatted the strike away batting the knife out of Olly's hand in the process. He then drove his sword into the boy's chest, ending his life instantly.

Jon felt a few tears build in his eyes, at the look of pain, rage, and betrayal in Olly's eyes. It killed him on the inside to have to do this, but he knew it must be done.

Jon pulled his sword free and marched on the few that remained. Out of the crowd of onlookers that had just arrived, a few men rushed forward with swords drawn. Jon's eyes snapped towards them, and he realized that they were even more conspirators.

It was only once they were close to Jon did Edd and Ser Davor realize that the small squad wasn't in fact rushing to their Lord-Commander's side.

Both moved to help Jon when something amazing occurred before their very eyes. Surrounded by another four men, Jon and Annatar fought as one, when one attacked, the other defended, and vice versa. Their cooperation, and speed allowed them to down the four within ten seconds.

As their bodies fell to the ground, Jon focused on what remained of the original troop of traitors.

Seeing that there was nothing that could stop him, a few turned and tried to run. They didn't make it far, as figures, cloaked in black, stepped forward from the shadows. These faceless entities, were draped from head to toe in long black cloaks. Beneath their robes, one could hear the clanking of metal grieves, and on their hands were dark metal gauntlets. Their faces weren't visible beneath the pitch black cloaks they wore.

Without any hesitation, these beings shot forward, seizing the men by the throats and disarming them in the process.

Three of them, dragged three runner back to where Jon was quickly cutting down what remained of the conspirators. The three men were thrown on their knees in front of Jon, whom spared them a glance, then stared at the three hooded figures that now stood before him. Out of the shadows, six more figures marched up to him, gathering with the other three.

Jon stared at them for several long moments before turning to the three men in front of him. All three were begging for their lives. Despite their disheveled states, Jon found no sympathy in his heart for them. They were traitors. That was it.

One by one, Jon moved down the line, driving Longclaw into their chests. When he was finished, he faced the nine gathered figures. Something told him that these were the same nine figures he had seen earlier that night with Annatar.

None of them said anything, and they all stood almost unmoving, as if waiting for a command. Jon stood in silence for several long moments, as he heard someone walk up to him.

"Are you alright?" Came Edd's voice.

"No. I'm not. They tried to kill me Edd… my own brothers." Jon replied as he turned to face his friend. Edd looked uneasy, the orangish glow of Jon's eyes was still present, but it was slowly fading.

"They're dead now. It's over." Edd stated, earning a slow nod from Jon.

"Yes… it's over." Jon stated as he glanced around at the collection of onlookers. Fear was the main emotion in most everyone's eyes. The only one who wasn't afraid was Melisandre, whom looked awe struck.

Jon stood in silence for several long moments before marching back to where he had dropped his scabbard. He then made his way back up to his office, the courtyard filled with nothing but silence.

A few hours later, Jon found himself sitting at his desk, his eyes on the ring, still on his fingers. Around the perimeter of his office stood the nine beings. Wraiths they were called. Ringwraiths to be specific. Dead kings, and ancient lords, that served Annatar in life and continued to do so in death. They were the Nazgul.

For hours, Jon sat in near silence, asking occasional questions to Annatar. Questions like who he was, where he came from, why he was here. But he also asked about other things, like what powers the ring possessed and what the two of them could do together.

Annatar seemed to take great pride in describing himself and his work. Apparently he had made the ring himself and poured his own essence into it. He came from a land far from Westoros or Essos. On this land he had once been a great lord, with many kings of lords that served him, especially the nine. A great war broke out between Annatar and the rest of the peoples of this land, they fought against him because he tried to bring a new age to the land. Annatar explained to Jon, that he was a craftsman at heart, and that through hard work and great determination he had discovered a new age of industry and advancement. The nations of his old home, rejected his work, preferring their old ways, and when they saw how his own kingdom prospered, and how many kinds and lords flocked to his side, they turned on him, uniting and destroying his great kingdom of Mordor.

Annatar explained that he had come to this land in search of allies to help him return home and reclaim his lost Kingdom. So far, none of this sounded too off for Jon to believe. In fact if he was honest with himself, getting Annatar's help in defeating the White Walkers, was well worth the price of future aide in returning him to his home.

At least in Jon's opinion.

When it came to the powers of the Ring itself, Annatar was more then a little vague on what it could do. He explained that having it in his possession would increase certain aspects of Jon's character, like making him noticeable stronger, and faster, with greater reflexes. The ring also offered an aura of protection around it's wearer, that would turn the odds in their favor. Annatar explained that it was like a good luck charm, that things tended to work out better for the wearer so long as the ring was in their possession.

He did hint at other abilities that the ring possessed but he intentionally refused to get into them, explaining that Jon would need to practice in order to harness those abilities without hurting himself. He did reveal one of the Ring's major abilities though, and that was the ability to bring the Wearer into the Wraith realm. Essentially, at any point, Jon could focus and enter into the white-ish realm of wraiths, where neither the living or dead, could venture. There he would be invisible to the living, and he could also see powerful fonts of magic, while in the Wraith realm.

So that's what Jon spent a lot of his time doing, pulling himself into and out of the Wraith Realm, learning to control it. These things were all he could do to keep his mind occupied, and away from the painful betrayal he had just felt.

A knock at the door, interrupted his concentration, and pulled him back into the physical realm.

"Come in." Jon called out. A few seconds later the door opened, and in walked Melisandre, and Ser Davos.

"Lord Commander." Ser Davos greeted him with a nod.

"Ser Davos, what can I do for you?" Jon inquired. Davos looked nervous as his eyes darted between Jon and Melisandre.

"I have come to swear fealty to you. My service is yours." Melisandre stated as she dropped to a knee.

Jon was silent for several moments as he gave her a curious look, and slowly rose to his feet.

"I'm not sure I understand." Jon began.

"She thinks you're the prince who was promised." Ser Davos stated with an irritated sigh.

"I thought Stannis was your prophesied prince." Jon stated with a look of confusion.

"No, I was wrong. Stannis was not the Prince who was promised. He was merely the person who would guide me to him. You are that Prince, Lord Jon. You are the one who will bring the dawn. The Lord of Light, he is with you, even now." Melisandre replied with reverence.

"Ah, a red priestess. It seems she can sense me." Annatar hummed with amusement.

"Wait, you're this Lord of Light?" Jon thought with surprise.

"In some ways, yes. Those who once spoke of my greatness traveled to the far corners of the Earth. Some must have even made their way here, spreading tales of my exploits and power." Annatar responded, with a chuckle.

"If that's true, then that would make you thousands of years old." Jon responded, still eyeing the priestess with a look of confusion.

"And who is to say I am not. I am after-all a spirit tied to a ring. Even without the Ring, I can survive without a physical vessel." Annatar responded to his question.

Jon was silent for several seconds as he let out a loud sigh. He was trying to come up with an argument to her statement, but nothing manifested itself. If Annatar was this Lord of Light, and he chose Jon to be his vessel, that 'would' technically make Jon the Prince who was Promised.

Jon searched for an argument but found none.

"You should accept her pledge. She could be a powerful ally in the War for Dawn." Annatar suggested.

Jon was about to refute that, remembering what she had done to the King beyond the Wall, but then again, she was a fire priestess, and fire was incredibly effective against Whites.

After several more quiet seconds, Jon let out another sigh and glanced at Ser Davos. "And what are you here for, Ser Davos?"

"I'm here to try to and be a sound mind to whatever she plans on whispering in you ear. I don't know what you saw out there, beyond the wall, but I do know what I just saw. What you just did. If I'm willing to believe in that, then I have to believe that there was something beyond the Wall. If the White Walkers are out there, you're going to need as much help as you can get. I'm here to offer that help." Ser Davos stated.

"Thank you Ser Davos. I accept your help. And you Lady Melisandre… I accept your aide as well. The White Walkers must be defeated. We have to put aside past grudges and do what is needed to ensure our survival." Jon stated, earning nods from both of them.

Another hour went by, when Edd showed up, by his side, was Tormund Giantsbane. Edd had apparently gone to retrieve him, after the attack. Edd knew that at this point, barely any of the Black brothers could be trusted. Tormund had little to say about what Edd claimed to have seen, but he did offer Jon a nod and pat on the back for killing so many traitorous crows.

By morning a funeral pyre had been built, and their bodies burned. A few hours after that, and there were a few arrivals at the gate. Sansa Stark, along with her bodyguards, Brienne of Tarth, and Podrick Payne.

Jon was overjoyed to see Sansa again and held her tight when she hugged him. They sat together in Jon's office for several hours, discussing things. Jon kept purposely quiet about the things that had happened to him recently, and he kept the ring, primarily out of sight, not wanting her to question him about it.

It was deep into their conversation, when Sansa told him she wanted to go home. This led to them debating the merits of making an attempt on retaking Winterfell. After his betrayal at the hands of a large swath of Night's watchmen, Jon had very little left, tying him to the organization. He knew he had already broken his oaths, with Ygritte, so leaving the wall, and leaving the Watch behind wasn't what bothered him. He fully intended to fight against the White Walkers, and he knew he couldn't do that by just sitting on the wall and waiting for them. He needed allies. He needed the North. But there in lay the problem. He had no army, he had no allies. Tormund may help them, but he most likely didn't have the force that Jon would need for such a campaign.

In his mind, even with his newfound abilities, there was no way Jon could take Winterfell from the Bolton's without aide.

"They have our home, Jon. We have to take it back." Sansa argued.

"I know that. Believe me, I do. I just… we can't just walk up and ask the Boltons to give it back. We need men. Soldiers." Jon argued.

"How many wildlings did you save?" Sansa inquired, earning a look from Jon.

"Not enough for that kind of fight." Jon responded.

"The Northern houses will help us. We put out a call, and they'll come to our aide." Sansa argued.

"And what if they don't?" Jon asked.

"Then we'll find a way. That monster can't be allowed to hold on to Winterfell. We have to take it back." Sansa said again, earning a sigh from Jon.

"Perhaps I can assist you." Annatar whispered into his ear.

"Your advice would be most appreciated. I don't know how much good it'll do, but I'll take what I can get." Jon thought back.

"Would fifty thousand, be enough to take back your home?" Annatar inquired, his voice utterly enticing. Jon's eyes widened at hearing that.

"You have that many men? How?" Jon asked, earning a chuckle in reply.

"I have been preparing to return home for a long time, Jon Snow. You and I, are in this together. My army, is your army. Send forth, one of the nine, and they will usher in to you from the Frostfang mountains. Orcs, Uruks, Spiders, Oleg-Hai. My army is hungry and ready for war. All they need, is to be unleashed." Annatar responded, earning a deep breath from Jon.

If his new companion was telling the truth, then they may just have hope of taking back the North, and have a force left over to fend off the Lannisters, the Frey, the Greyjoys, and prepare for the Long Night.

"I need to handle a few things Sansa. Give me a few days, and I'll see what I can do." Jon told her, earning a reluctant nod from Sansa.

Jon quickly made his way out of his office, purpose in his step. As he walked, the Ring began to glow.

A shadow had fallen over Westoros. The Dark Lord had returned, and his wrath was soon to be unleashed.

-To be Continued-

Alright there it is, hope you enjoy. Next update might be soon. Back to work on Broken Angel, about a third of the way through that chapter already. Next chapter of Mafia Queen, out sometime next week. Cheers!