The March to Winterfell

Prince Jacob sees the blood stains on his hands. He washed most of it off, but he could not ignore it. He winced at what he did, the idea of removing some green boy's hand changed him. The man was not the same, as he was before he was stabbed, wanting revenge for what that boy's uncle Harald did to him. He could see the shriek coming out of that Karstark grandson of Arnolf when Jacob removed his hand swiftly with his sword, with no tolerance for the guilt and sorrow that came afterwards. Seeing the relatives of his attacker face to face made Jacob more ruthless, as the men and boys failed to answer his father's questions of what they knew of Harald's attempted murder and Lord Arnolf's treasonous plot with Roose Bolton and Ludd Whitehill.

The man spent the last three days assisting Mors Crowfood in training the green boys in his pitiful army, but the northman was happy to get help from a seasoned warrior like Jacob, even though he was too young to be seasoned at war. He liked the thought of sharing his skills with unfortunate souls, who needed it, as he had nothing to do, since his father dismissed him from his side. Something changed with his father, since he came back to the fold. Jacob realised his father Stannis was glad to have him back, but never showed it in a way that was expressive with his emotions. His father dismissed him because he wanted to speak to both Asha and Theon Greyjoy alone and wanted him gone, as Jacob's job was to motivate the troops into the upcoming battle for Winterfell's liberation.

Jacob had a great time with the one-eyed northman, as Mors was a veteran of war and had fought in the days of the Mad King, which meant he heard some of the elder northman's stories about the battlefield and how this battle was going to be one for the history books. He didn't share the older man's enthusiasm, knowing the things Theon was prattling about when it came to the Bolton Bastard, a sick-minded manic, who needed to die by his hand. Jacob was not afraid, because he tasted death and knew what it was like, one stabbing changed his whole outlook on everything, but as the heir to House Baratheon, he should be more considerate when it came to potential death on the field, leaving his loved ones in sorrow.

The boys in Crowfood's forces were less green by the days, thanks to Jacob's stern training. He was a man of eight and ten, but he was teaching boys the same age as he and Robb Stark, when they first went to war on the Lannisters for different reasons. Jacob didn't look at his red stained hands, but he did to see the kind of man he was transforming into. He had a strange liking to it, never felt any shame towards cutting a man's hand off clean and his mind turned off those feelings of guilt. The prince was sharpening his sword with a whetstone, he borrowed from Luthor, knowing it was the same sword that cut off the hand of a small-minded Karstark, who dared to draw steel against his father in his presence. He was not shamed for what he did, even Ser Clayton gave him praise of what he did, calling it the action of a ruthless man who wanted a spill revenge on a Karstark, who was the nephew of the man, who tried to kill him.

Marching men on foot was familiar to Jacob. He could not wait to break through the lines of the Bolton and Frey mix army and crash through the walls of Winterfell himself. The trumpeting of northern warhorns were faint and he could hear it from where he was. He had no mercy for the all, Roose Bolton and his bastard will die first, and he might want to have a cloak made soaked in their blood to wear at this northern wedding, as a symbol of victory over them. Hearing what happened to Ser Davos shut Jacob off, as the man was a second father to him. Wyman Manderly murdered Davos and he must keep his hunger for revenge at bay, when facing the Manderly infantry Lord Bolton got rid of and his good brothers as well. Prince Jacob despised the thoughts he had of marrying into House Manderly for duty, but he would rather marry into House Ryswell for the horses, even though he loved horses as a man and as an exceptional rider.

The man turned to see cousin Luthor coming, with the horse he brought with him from Greenstone. It was a brown stallion in the shade of wood, but it was a hard horse to tame by normal men. Jacob was glad to see Ser Luthor, since Sorrell must be preparing for battle with the King's Men and he was alone in the ditches. He did enough, in terms of training Mors Umber's green boys, but the boys began to learn to fight like proper warriors and not as green boys at all. A gust of black wind blew over him, but Jacob never felt its chill at all, as if he was born in snow and cold for most of his life. He shivered within his furs the first time the storm came for the north, but he was adapting to the conditions better than the southorns in his father's army of leftovers from Dragonstone and the Stormlands.

"I see you look miserable as always, cousin." Ser Luthor declared, sitting on the snows opposite his cousin.

"Am I or am I just seeing things differently?" Prince Jacob replied.

"Cutting off that boy's hand was great, even your father was unaffected by it. I'm sure Lord Arnolf will want you dead now."

"He was fortunate, it wasn't the grandson that stabbed me."

"It's not all bad, I have good news for you from the Umber camp."

"What is it?"

"A shovel full of boys killed Ser Aenys Frey, digging around in the snows. Most likely sent by Ser Hosteen, the man in charge of the Frey portion of Bolton's armies."

"Who cares? One dead Frey makes no difference."

"Unless it was the man in command, who died."

"Look at it this way, half of Roose Bolton's forces tried to challenge us and lost."

"It's a shame you will have to marry into the traitor families, especially if Lord Manderly did kill your father's onion knight."

"I'll cut off my cock with my dagger, if I please."

"You better not, it's the most valuable part of you, apart from your sword hand."

"To replenish the Baratheon line, especially since Shireen is too young to be wed and mother hopes to settle me with a southorn bride."

"Better than a northern one, who will marry you now, since Alys Karstark ran away and is wed to a wildling."

"The Lord Commander should not have done that; I agreed to marry her for the sake of my mother and father agreeing as well. Being available means more interesting parties coming to the table."

"Why did Mors Umber even ask you to help train his green boys?"

"The man asked a seasoned warrior to help him out and I did. He did tell me things about his great-nieces, the Greatjon's daughters, whom are unmarried. He told me a lot about them. It's better than what the Karstarks would have offers, but an Umber lady in a southorn court? My mother will not allow it, a Manderly wife would make her and the other Florents more comfortable, as the Manderlys worship the Faith."

"Which would you choose, an Umber wife; a Manderly wife or even a Ryswell wife?"

"Neither, if I had a choice. A poor selection to say the least. My father is eager to marry me off as soon as possible. He is worried Luthor, with the Lannisters and Tyrells killing each other in court, the northerners being sick of Bolton rule. My status being my father's only great advantage in the war is fading and the more people know I am alive."

"There are many Frey girls still available."

"I'd rather die than think of that, maybe a Frey wife will do you good cousin. A pretty one to solidify alliances further."

"How could you do that to me? You know after the Florents, the Freys are the second ugliest house in the Seven Kingdoms."

"That's my mother's house, you speak of. Say no more or else I can turn myself in for kinslaying."

"We are more distantly related."

"At least, the stain will not be too bad on my name."

"This could be the last time we see each other, before death and glory."

"I hope you are still alive, Luthor. Who will be my bearer at my wedding day, since Davos is dead, and Lord Too Fat will answer for his crime soon enough?"

"If I were Lord Manderly, I would be more afraid of you than Roose Bolton."

"Fuck them all, Luthor. Roose Bolton, Wyman Manderly, Ludd Whitehill, the bastard Ramsay and Ser Stupid Frey, let them come. I'm bored sitting here." Jacob said, in a loud tone.

"Good for you, cousin."

The man was sick of waiting, let his enemies come for him so he could kill them already. Jacob glared north, whilst sharpening his sword; knowing Winterfell was a few miles away. He was turned his head away, as it was going to be a hard trek through the snows and passing the armies of Bolton, Frey and Whitehill and not getting killed on the battlefield. Jacob had a lot on his mind, but he did not want to say anything to anyone he did not know. He was thankful to have cousin Luthor's company, even though the orange-haired knight was not well versed in politics as well as he is. It was almost reliving a time, of what it's like to socialise with another young man around his age and to be comfortable with him.

Jacob never thought to ask Luthor about home, since he ran away without his family knowing where he was, House Estermont had plenty of sons so one going missing went over the head of great uncle Eldon, who was the head of the house now. He sensed his cousin was lonely, missing his brother and others of his family, but he wanted to fight in a war and not sit in a castle all day and do nothing. The prince had gotten back from seeing the Braavosi banker leave the camp, with Ser Justin and a few men riding towards the Wall. The girl thought to be Arya Stark, wasn't the little wolf at all. He was good at remembering faces, and knew the girl Theon rescued was Jeyne, the steward's daughter disguised as a highborn girl to keep the Bolton's hold on Winterfell, but with the infighting with the Manderlys and the Ryswells happening. It was only a matter of time before the rest of the north revolted against House Bolton and their Frey good family.

"I know the girl. I know she lived in Winterfell, when her father was Ned Stark's steward. There are a lot of faces I remember from Winterfell, like the master at arms, Ser Rodrick, who is dead now and his small daughter Beth, who was one of Sansa's little friends. I dread to think what happened to the girls, who lived in Winterfell after the sack of the castle. The girl, Jeyne was no ordinary runaway, but one of Lady Sansa's friends in Winterfell. The poor girl must have relied on Theon Greyjoy to help escape from being the wife of that monster called Snow."

Winterfell held a mix of different memories for Jacob, some were good, and some were terrible. It was not his place, as Stannis Baratheon's son to pity a girl, but Jeyne was nice to him in Winterfell, when Theon and Robb made fun of him for being brusque and what he did in the Arbor. His father Stannis may be a seasoned commander, but Jacob was more focused on the glory at winning. He was young and wanted another battle to his name and reputation. Jacob was the knight, who never wanted to be called ser. It was for men, who needed the title because he was the prince, the man to rule the Seven Kingdoms after his father and did not need to have the common title.

"How is your mother, Jake? Is it too late to write to her?" Ser Luthor said, in comical tone.

"There is not enough parchment and ink to go around. Letters are only written for vital reasons." Prince Jacob replied.

"I like your new appearance, reminds me of what my grandfather said; how inspiring Robert Baratheon was when he began the war on the Mad King. You could do the same here, but to eliminate at least three houses from the north is an accomplishment not to be japed at."

"When we get to Winterfell, you will shave the beard off me."

"It must be hard to be you, Jake. To be unmarried for this long, not even the most handsome man can last if you did, isn't Willas Tyrell still unmarried as well. Only girls marry the pretty fools, but you are too brusque, and the Tyrell heir is crippled."

"How does that help my dilemma?" Jacob said, as his voice was rising in irritation.

"At least, you can have somewhat of a choice for a wife. With the poor selection of brides on offer, you might as well like boys instead." The orange-haired knight said, with Jacob smacking him upside the head for that comment.

"Do not jape of that subject, knowing what Uncle Renly did in his free time."

"Cousin Alyn and I were against moving the Estermont strength behind Renly in the first place, knowing your father would stop him in his tracks. Grandfather Gerold liked the idea of a grandson being king, but not the older one and the great-grandson who never visited him. It was for the better, being stuck in a Tyrell controlled court would have been a nightmare and a lot of Stormland keeps would be given away to Renly's new Reach friends."

"I'm glad you made the right choice, unlike the others."

"There are not a lot of men left over in the Seven Kingdoms of your status, the obvious ones are dead, and others are married."

"We will both be in a sept soon, with father looking for a wife for you as well. You and Ser Justin could marry Frey wives and peace will be had that way."

"I would rather not be married at all; I am not the heir as Cousin Alyn is the heir of House Estermont. You could suggest that towards him if you like."

"Marriage is so tedious, no wonder why Uncle Robert had to choose for my father. I would have been married to Alys Karstark, had her relatives not been as treasonous as they were, but may be the gods made it this way and the right woman might be behind Winterfell's walls or elsewhere."

"I would give up if I was you."

"Really?"

"Marry Asha Greyjoy in a northern godswood; better than to see you unhappy and without a wife."

"You must be japing Luthor, my father will kill me if that happened."

"Better you than the smiler taking her to the Wall."

"Shut up."

"You were jealous, aren't you? When Ser Justin wanted to take her with him, away from you."

"You do not know what you speak of, cousin."

Prince Jacob was tired of Luthor's nonscience, but he could be right. He stirred when Ser Justin merely suggested to take Asha with him to the Wall, with the She-Bear and Jeyne. The man did not know why he felt that way, but he ignored his hardened heart. He could not believe his cousin would suggest him marrying the ironborn in a godswood, a place where northerners worship their gods. An Andal faith worshipper and a woman of the Drowned God marrying in front of the heart tree is laughable at best. He never wanted her in that way, but since the Karstark alliance dissolved, he opened his mind to the possibility of who his future wife was and who she could be.

Jacob turned his eyes north, which was the way towards Winterfell and the battle ahead of him. Soldiers were preparing for battle with what was left of the horses and the swords they brought. He was going to be leading a part of the royal host onto the field, as it was his duty and his mission to do as the king's heir. The prince shook his head at the thought of Asha penetrating his mind, he could not shut out his own thoughts of her anymore, especially now envious he got when Justin Massey wanted to take her away to the Wall.

"Father might have allowed it, for me and not a knight as lowly as Ser Justin. I don't know why I think and feel this way, so close to the great battle ahead of me for Winterfell. The smiler wanted her for himself so he could fancy himself Lord of the Iron Islands and as her husband, but I would have stabbed him between the eyes with the dagger, daring to take her away from her hostage situation, which is where she belongs in solitude…and….with me."

The prince's eyes widened, as he clenches his fists together. He could not hide behind his sternness anymore, but less people know, the better. Jacob could not compromise his future for someone, who will be a prisoner the rest of her life; he could never marry Asha, even if the tides of the wind was at his command. He was enraged, due the fact of never been allowed to bed anyone, since the victory at Deepwood Motte and it was with one of Lady Sybelle's serving girls. The vulgar persona and lack of tact from the female Greyjoy made it difficult for the prince to contain his primal urges, but no woman would refuse the son of the rightful king into her bed. He resisted Lady Asha's temptations for moons, but saving his life gave her an opportunity to woo the frigid son of Stannis Baratheon. Jacob smiled at the sentiment, but bedding her would not be too bad, since the furs will keep both warm and he will not do it in the beds of the dead Starks.

The man chuckled at the idea; the ironborn woman breaking down the walls, Jacob built around himself, since he was torn away from Desmera. He believed love to be for children and not for a man like him. His mother Selyse was unloved by his father throughout their marriage; that level of misery led his mother into taking up with a foreign religion and converting members of House Florent and others of the king's court into the worship of R'hllor. He refused all his mother's attempts to get him to abandon the seven, but he saw the happiness the presence of Melisandre brought his mother and did not want to be the one to cause his mother sorrow ever again, all because of his own concerns about relying on a foreign priestess as a member of a royal court.

It has been a long time, since Jacob thought of the red woman. A bad omen, all in name only. He was a worshipper of the faith and did not approve of a foreign religion spreading through his father's camp, as it made men more fanatical than usual and lose common sense. The prince was beginning work on polishing and sharpening the war hammer in his possession; he wanted to take good care of it, as Uncle Robert should have given it to him on the nameday that just passed, but it was better than nothing. A warrior must have a great weapon to wield at war, but it will be bittersweet to see that war hammer used on northmen, who fight for Roose Bolton and his other powerful allies. It was hard to take care of a weapon so well crated, but the Queen's Men held the grunt work in cleaning it up and making use it was in good condition for him to wield.

A cold chill passed through the prince's dark hair, and he ignored it. He held the handle of the hammer between his frozen-bitten fingers, as it warmed them somehow. After his father sent him away, Jacob began training with it against the green knights Ser Richard gave him. He recalls the fear on the face of the moth knight, as he thought the hammer would end him, but it didn't. Training with Ser Richard was not too bad, since it gave the eager Baratheon something to distract himself with, until his father needed him again. To be alone with his father in the room, gave Jacob stomach nerves, but for the Greyjoys in his custody, it was a taste of what life in imprisonment was going to be like in Winterfell.

The cold winds were a sign of what is to come. Jacob never believed in the northern stories about the Long Night, because he was a spring child and knew nothing of winter. Seeing the wildlings lotter in Castle Black, Melisandre prattling on about her prophecies of destiny and the snowstorm washing over the armies were signs. Those northern stories were coming to life and it scared Jacob; to be wrong about something he dismissed in the past. He never believed in the prophecies of his father being the great hero come again. His father was not made to be the special hero, the Lady Melisandre was waiting for, but he was just a man, a man fighting for his rights and for the future of his crumbling house. His father Stannis was a man alone, with only his son truly at his side in these dire circumstances, but he will never go.

"There are no friends in this world, Robb Stark learnt that the hard way, when the turncloak slaughtered his brothers and took his castle. I never liked him at first, especially when my father's army is plagued by his remaining loyalists. The young wolf was everything I wasn't. Likeable, honourable and first in line to inherit from his house. He rebuffed my father's fealty like a jape and thought he could defeat the Lannisters on his own. I hold no love for him at all, but in another lifetime, we would have been the best of friends because Uncle Robert and Ned Stark would have wanted it to be so to model their historic friendship made in wartime."

Prince Jacob shook of that thought. Miles away from Winterfell and he was already thinking of the dead Stark boy with the look of a Tully lor. The northerners did what they had to do, to prepare for battle, but he kept them at arm's length for a reason. He never forgot it was members of House Umber that gave Robb Stark his false crown in the first place, as it was spoken between the northern soldiers in the camp. It wasn't good to dwell on the past, especially when a war is coming and Roose Bolton was going to send his good brother Ser Hosteen Frey to deal with him and his father on the field, and keep half his strength at Winterfell, as it was what a man of Lord Bolton's mind and experience in war would do to keep himself out of the field.

The storm was getting worse by the days, as it was a storm that started from Deepwood Motte. Jacob didn't mind anyways, he was used to the cold, whilst the weakest of the southorns died in the storm. He was used to death and seeing the bones of dead people by now. It was normal to him, and it was something he did not want his little sister to think was normal to her. His heart ached to see Shireen again, as it wasn't right for her to be left alone with the Queen's Men to protect her and to only have Devan Seaworth as a companion. Prince Jacob was her brother and it was his duty to protect her, but how can be a good brother, from the depths of the northern plains and so close to the battlefield. He hoped to see her again, as a victorious warrior and a married man, to introduce his little sister to her good sister. It was clear to see his sister needed an older sister figure in the form of a noble woman as a companion; she had been isolated from girls of her rank for too long.

It was only fitting for Jacob to inherit the warhammer, since his father was gaunt and unable to. He had a sense of guilt, only because Uncle Robert loved him at the expense of his own brothers. As a child, he was glad to be at least loved by someone of his family, since he was sent away from his own mother and father for political reasons. It was a responsibility and a duty to be the caretaker of Uncle Robert's legendary warhammer, as it was almost as famous as the sword of Ser Arthur Dayne and the man himself. Prince Jacob clutched his hands onto the handle of the weapon, with the thoughts of smashing it between Wyman Manderly's teeth for murdering Davos and getting the man justice for what the fat lord did to him.

There was someone coming this way, but Jacob did not mind it. He was lucky to have cousin Luthor by his side. It reminded Jacob of the times he heard his father muttering the name of the Onion Knight in his sleep, the day before Jacob got stabbed. It was when the prince realised loneliness was worse than the sword. He didn't care to see who was coming, at least he could talk to someone else about mortality and death. His fingers were shaking out of control, as he could not control what was ahead of him. He was lying, if he said he did not fear for his mortality, since the battle was going to be in the trenches of the snowstorm and the northmen on the opposite side have the advantage over his father's southorn forces in that regard.

The movement of snow by feet was heard, with the prince turning around to see Lady Asha behind him. "It must be expensive to have such a weapon, greenlander." She said, in a haughty tone. Not noticing the men around, them preparing for the war to come for them.

"I thought you were with your brother." Prince Jacob replied.

"I enjoy your company more, my brother lies about the bastard."

"I am sorry for you."

"Is that what I think it is?"

"It is, if you want to know the truth. The same weapon that killed the Targaryen dynasty and made your father bend the knee years later."

"I was in my bedchambers with my mother and Theon when the war started."

"My father defeated your uncle and will surely defeat Roose Bolton and chop his bastard into pieces."

"Don't let me stand in your way of greenland glory?"

"Is there something you want from me?"

"There is talk amongst the knights, the ones the king likes to stick around him of your outburst in the tower."

"What is it about?"

"You refused Ser Justin taking me away." The ironborn said, placing her hand on his shoulder. He flinched at her touch, as it was not warranted.

"He only wants you for your lands and that is all."

"And you do not."

"Do not think too highly of yourself, you are a pirate and raper in the eyes of every man and woman in the Seven Kingdoms?"

"Do you think that?"

"My opinion does not matter, since I defeated you in the Wolfswood and lived to tell the tale."

"My leg was twisted, and you took advantage of that."

"Better safe than sorry. Spend your last days of freedom well before your sentence."

"You don't want me in a dungeon, don't you?"

"It's payment for your crimes, my lady."

"Like you have not killed people and taken castles." Asha wondered.

"The difference was I gave the rightful lords of the house their castles back, after an enemy house took over. You should know the difference between restoration and pillaging, pirate."

"You resort to pirate now, what happened to your southorn manners, greenlander?"

"Back to greenlander again, we are."

"I can fight with you, in the battle against the Boltons."

"You will be kept under guard, since a prisoner going missing is the last thing my father needs."

"Can't I stick with you?"

"No."

The man did not know what Asha wanted, because that woman was complicated. She had no shame stealing castles from northern houses, but she claims to want to fight on his side. It was better to be stern towards her and not show any amount of weakness or vulnerability. Jacob was not going to throw her away, as a capable warrior herself. She wanted revenge for what Roose Bolton, and his bastard did to her brother and allowing her to get revenge, may not be such a bad thing. It will mean he will be responsible for watching her and making sure she is still alive by the end. Prince Jacob turned away from her, not wanting to show it on his face and for her to figure it out.

He wanted her and he was ashamed to admit it. Jacob did not understand, when other men would indulge in their lust for whores, but the stresses of war and fear made it the perfect excuse. He was no ordinary man, but the son of Stannis Baratheon, the rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms. Jacob did not have the luxury or the time to be lusting over the enemy, when in days' time he will be walking down to the sept or the godswood with his northern bride at his side and become a lord husband. There was no way, he could afford to make a mistake, just so he could think with his cock for one moment, there was too much to lose and he did not want to lose everything he still had left in his life.

"Your uncle's warhammer, you gonna use it on Bolton and his Frey armies." Asha said, leaning against the prince's shoulder with her head on it. The prince did not push her away, even though they were alone in a camp covered with snow and wind.

"It looks better smashed between the teeth of Wyman Manderly." Prince Jacob replied.

"Did your onion knight worship the greenlander faith, like you?"

Jacob's eyes widened at what Asha said; he did not have time to mourn for the death of Davos. He stood from the rocks he was sitting on, to get into the face of the woman, who dared to mention Davos. "Do not speak of him as if you know him." The prince said, in a voice laced in a sneer and a deeper tone, "You should be careful with your next words."

"Do you always speak to women this way?" Asha replied.

"No, apart from my mother. I stay away from women."

"A man at war has not seen the warmth of a woman in years. It seems you have not seen a woman's bed, since your yoke of an uncle was still alive."

"You are a married woman, a shameless one at that."

"My lord husband will die of old age, by now. Which means I will be free to marry whomever I want."

"And it will not be me."

"You cannot blame me for trying. With Theon to be killed at your father's hands, I am the last of my father's line."

"I am very sorry for you, but the sooner your line dies out the better."

"Do have to be so unpleasant and lack tact?" Asha said with her voice rising with anger. She could not believe the prince could be so cold and malicious about her misfortunate situation. It was for the best for him to be this way, as it was the only way this mangled relationship could end.

The man looked to see Asha leave with her arms wrapped around herself, with the cold winds blowing past her way. It was better for Jacob to be malicious towards her than act like a wanting dog, desperate for sex, like any other man in this kingdom. He began to finish the polishing of the warhammer, even though it will be stained in the blood of his enemies and the white snow will be with the blood of Bolton soldiers soaking the snow-covered treks. The prince knew he should have written to his mother, Queen Selyse before his father sent him out of the watchtower, but he knew what he wanted to say to her. If he had the chance to write to her in his most intimate way, in a way his father could never understand.

"Dear mother, I am fine as I know how much you worry about me. I hope you and Shireen are well taken care of by Lord Commander Snow. I know what happened with my former bride, Alys Karstark and I am glad it happened in a way. The Karstarks, who pledged themselves to father are traitors and one of them tried to kill me. I am still the same as I was, but I did something I should not have done. I cut of the sword hand of one of Arnolf Karstark's ignorant grandsons, who dared to draw steel in father's presence. I don't know what is happening to me and the kind of man I am becoming. You should thank Maester Williem, a maester who came with the Forresters for saving my life, even though I was strong enough to survive. I miss you and I feel truly alone in the north, but the battle will start soon, and I will hope to secure a victory for you from afar, from your son Jacob."

The prince was afraid, afraid to die when he didn't want to. It was going to be his reality and it scared him, to think of losing the war and his father's cause to be in tatters. He looks from afar to see his goal in the distance, even if the snow slows down the combined armies of his father and the northerners, it will not break their spirits and it will motivate the men and women to keep on going, until they see Bolton and Frey blood or see the large castle from the distance. Jacob was not going to give up, even if he is feet ten deep in snow, but he will never bend or break until he is the one that wins the battle and liberates Winterfell.