Sansa looked around, anyone of great importance – anyone who was left anyway – had all come together to discuss the aftermath of the Cold War. Snow still blew outside the Red Keep but it was a lighter snow, not the blistering cold that she had experienced not too long ago. She thought back to the cold, the death, the white faces.

"That's ridiculous, they're babies, and they're bastards," snapped a voice that brought Sansa back to attention.

"The boy is the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms" said Tyrion, exasperated. He looked older than Sansa had ever seen him, the stress and the weight of what had passed had aged him quickly. He was a good man, a good husband she thought, better than her other one anyway.

"Who would rule in until he is of age? You?" scoffed Lord Arryn. Sansa frowned, she was glad nothing had ever come of them. He may look like the knights in her stories but he was a conceited, stupid man.

"Well, he is the only living son of Aerys Targaryen," snapped Sansa, sick of these long meetings that got them nowhere.

"Oh well isn't that great," replied Arryn, "a dwarf and the bastard of a mad man,"

"I will slap you," Sansa said under her breath. She heard a deep chuckle behind her and she knew her guard, the Hound, would support her move.

"Do we need one ruler for seven kingdoms?" asked Arianna Martell, the last living Martell. "What good ever came from it?"

"What do you mean?" asked Tyrion.

"What was so wrong with the old way? Most of us here are decedents from mighty Kings who ruled one kingdom each."

"War, petty squabbles and selfish lords make that pretty difficult to accept as a concept, especially when we have no real control on what our sons and daughters decide to do when they become the next lords and ladies," replied Tyrion, running his fingers through his now-noticeable Targaryen hair.

Missandei pursed her lips. Sansa liked her, she was an adviser to the Dragon Queen and Sansa could see why. She was smart, she knew how people thought but also how to think out-side the box.

"You have something to add?" asked Sansa, a smile forming on her lips. Sansa caught Arryn rolling his eyes, she frowned but ignored him and kept her attention on Missandei.

"A council with simple rules," she began but then paused.

"Go on," Jamie urged. Sansa glanced at him quickly, she felt confused about her feeling towards Jamie. On one hand, he pushed her brother out a window, took part in several of her family members deaths, on the orders of his father and sister true, but still he took part, on the other hand, he killed Cersei (A pleasure Sansa had always dreamed of, she knew her sister Arya felt the same), abandoned her plans and took the Lannister army to join them in the Cold War, plus Brienne liked him and Brienne didn't like anyone.

"You do each rule your own kingdoms. It's easier to control a smaller area of land as opposed to all of Westeros. But you have a council, on a regular basis the council meets or at least communicates with each other, in order to continue the alliance,' she finished.

"And what if a lord – not necessarily a current one, but down the line, decides to be self-serving and disrupt the alliance?" inquired Davos Seaworth – an advisor to Sansa after the death of her Jon.

"A simple rule, if a ruler is deemed unfit by the rest of the council, they can be passed over and a suitable heir can be voted in. This is really just to keep the rulers in-line."

"What about the Reach?" asked Samwell, he had been quiet for so long that Sansa forgot he was present. "We don't have anyone."

"The Reach has you, Lord Tarly," stated Tyrion, the rest nodded their heads in agreement. Samwell began to speak back but Tyrion's face said that was the end of the matter.

"What about the Crownlands?" inquired Gendry (recently legitimized) Baratheon, "Do we absorb it into the boarders before Aegon's Conquest? If not we still need someone to rule that area."

"Tyrion." said Sansa.

"Bu.." began Arryn but Sansa's look shot him down.

"Tyrion Targaryen, you have proved yourself a wise and capable leader, you are the only of age Targaryen present and Daenerys had you legitimised before her death and recognised you as her brother, I don't personally see a reason not to."

"Bu..." Arryn began to speak again.

"Bastards have ruled before, and they may rule again. Jon was a bastard but if he was still alive you wouldn't question his leadership. Gendry was born a bastard. In these times, we need to make these technical exceptions in favour of capable rulers," snapped Arya. She had been standing in the back, in the shadows, how she usually preferred.

"Here here," agreed Jamie.

"Sounds like we have a plan," said Brienne, tapping her fingers on the table.

"So, we're doing this? Going back to the old way?" asked Arryn. "Crownlands doesn't really sound suited anymore, does it? If it's just a region like any other."

"Dragonlands," whispered Tyrion.

"I don't think we're likely to come up with a better idea than that," smirked Sansa. Tyrion flashed her a smile.

"And what are we to do with Rhaegar and Rhaenyra? Just leave them for the wolves?" asked Davos.

Sansa let out a sharp laugh, "sorry," she said when they all looked at her. "Well, if you are to leave them 'with the wolves' as you say, I would raise them with their half-sibling," she said, stroking her growing stomach.

She thought back to when Jon had told her. He was preparing for battle and he was sending Sansa south for protection – she wasn't a fighter. She had felt her feelings change for the boy she once disdained. She felt wrong, he was her brother after all, only he wasn't, in the end he was her cousin. He told her he was to be a father – from an intimate moment with the Dragon Queen before he knew of his real parentage. At first Sansa was hurt and walked from the room; Jon had chased her down the halls and caught her. He wiped the tears off her face and she had kissed him. Next thing you know here she is, sitting with a baby growing in her belly. Her back ached, her legs ached, everything ached and she was always hungry. For the first three months, all she had been able to eat without being sick was Lemon Cakes.

"They're Dragons, not wolves," said Grey-Worm. Sansa thought of their curling blond hair and purple eyes and agreed. Rhaegar's eyes had been so dark when he was born Sansa thought he had Jon's, but in just the right light you could see the tint of purple.

"I could raise them," said Tyrion quietly.

"Are you sure?" asked Sansa.

"I'm likely to never have a child, Rhaegar will be my heir and Lord of Dragonstone," stated Tyrion, "Rhaenyra, Princess of Summerhall," he added.

"Princess of a ruined castle?" scoffed Arryn.

"We're going to be rebuilding a lot of castles soon, Hardyng" snapped Sandor. Arryn seemed taken back, no one called him that anymore. It was basically the same as saying he wasn't an Arryn, he shouldn't be in charge of the Vale. Sansa smiled, she smiled a little easier these days, mostly because of Sandor.

"So, it's settled?" asked Davos, leaning back in his chair.

"One more thing," piped Gendry. Everyone turned to face him. "Tarly and I were discussing, this wasn't the first attack by the Others. And we don't know if it'll be the last, it might not happen in our lives, or even our grandchildren's lives, but they may come back."

"The last time it happened was thousands of years ago, we forgot about it, the future may forget about it too," stated Jamie.

"We won't let them forget. Every major house will have a Valyrian sword, and maybe a few others will too. When a sword is passed down to the heir, so is the story." He finished simply.

"I agree," said Sansa – already knowing what she would name hers, what she almost had to name it.

"We're done?" asked Arryn.

"We're done," sighed Tyrion.

Arryn stood up abruptly. "Well, I guess I'll see most of you next council meeting, probably after my coronation, King of the Vale," he said with a laugh, with that Arryn left.

Sansa hated his smug attitude but she thought about what he had said. Jon had been 'King in the North', so after his death it makes sense for her to be 'Queen in the North', but she had never really thought about it like that, she had thought it would be simpler, they would go back to a unified kingdom. That was a foolish idea, she thought now, the past is the past, there's no going back.

She felt a hand pressing gently on her shoulder. "Shall I escort you back to your room Milady?" asked Sandor gently. She hated when he called her Milady, it was so formal but he only did so in public. When they were by themselves he only called her 'Little Bird'.

Sansa nodded, he took her by the arm and they left the Council Room together.