Game of Thrones Season 8

by cbstevp

An attempt to see where the TV show will take us in its final season, picking up right after the events at the end of Season 7.

6. Chapter 6

Game of Thrones Season 8 - Chapter 6

King's Landing – Euron

"What the fuck happened here?" Euron Greyjoy asked from the deck of his massive ship. Looking at King's Landing from the sea he could see large parts of the city were covered in ice, glittering in the low sunlight of a late morning on a cloudy day.

"Don't know," said Homeless Harry Strickland from his side. "Winter has come I guess"

Euron looked at Strickland with a mild sort of amusement mixed with disgust. Gone to fat, a few grey hairs on his almost bald dome, and a weakling's chin, Strickland was not what anyone would call a commander of men. Old, tired looking, constantly complaining…it was enough to drive a man to throw him over the side of the ship. But no, he was the commander of the Golden Company and so Euron had to tolerate him…for now. How he had he became commander Euron didn't bother himself to find out. All he knew was the men elected their own leaders and somehow this fool had won their votes.

Ever since Cersei had told him her mad plan he was beset by one difficulty after another. The first part had been the easiest, convincing all those fools in the Dragonpit he was sailing for home, though it didn't seem so easy at the time.

"How?" he asked her the night before when she had put the plan to him in her chambers, the old fool Qyburn and Gregor Clegane present as well. Cersei sat at her table while they stood to either side of her. He was not even offered any wine, just told what she wanted as he stood there. Find the Golden Company in Tyrosh and bring them to Westeros. A Braavosi banker would meet him there to make the finally contract arrangements. Oh, and make it seem like they had fallen out and he was heading for home.

Qyburn made a suggestion as to how he could seem to break from Cersei. "If they are carrying what I believe they are carrying, you will have plenty of reasons to leave."

"And what would they be carrying?" he asked.

"A dead man…who can't die."

"I don't need riddles, old fool."

"Not a riddle. A wight…a thing that was once a man and is now dead…but reanimated by this Night King."

Cersei gave a dismissive snort. "The truth of their claims is yet to be seen. If they are liars then we have no need of any ruse."

Euron now thought she was the bigger fool. "They would not come all this way if they are liars."

"Nothing Tyrion says I will believe," she said. "If there is any trickery we will kill them all."

"Aye, a good plan...if she leaves her dragons home. But I think she is no fool. She will have her dragons and her Dothraki and Unsullied guards and this Jon Snow bastard…quite the fighter he is supposed to be."

"Your nephew Theon is also with them," Qyburn told him. "He is said to have survived your battle."

"Little cockless Theon?" Euron mocked. "How do you know he lives?"

"I have many sources of information."

"Well, did they tell you I am not a merchant seaman? I fight, I don't haul cargo or men and fucking elephants around."

"You will be rewarded," Cersei said. "Part of the gold from the Iron Bank is yours."

"The only gold I want is between your legs. Or is it going grey already?" Euron replied, stepping closer towards her. Clegane's massive hand went to his sword hilt and Euron gave him a grin and stopped.

Cersei looked like she had swallowed curdled milk. "You do have a way with words."

"I just want to make sure I get what I want before you are too old to give me an heir."

"Us an heir," she said.

"Of course…us."

"Will you do it?"

He laughed. "Aye. But I want more than gold."

"Name it."

"The day my ship returns is the day you marry me, not the day victory is complete, not in a month or a year or whatever. When I return."

"Done."

She said it so easily he knew she was lying, but decided not to press the point. Once he had the Golden Company, he would have more power than she did and he could dictate terms. He turned to go and then stopped. "Oh, and if your brother gets in my way, I will have to sort him out." She had nothing to say to that, but gave him a cold stare. Cunt, she loves him, Euron thought. Ser Jaime would have to die or he would never get what he wanted.

So they met those fools in the Dragonpit and he got a close look at a real dragon and its mother. A beauty she was to rival Cersei, and younger as well. But she was not yet desperate enough to think of Euron as an ally. Yet.

Faking being a man interested in only himself was easy once he saw that damn thing they had in the box. Well, he needn't fake too much, for he was only in this game for himself after all. The Iron Fleet sailed on the morning tide, bearing east for Essos, and Tyrosh. Eight days later he found the Golden Company…and more troubles began.

Tyrosh was a city built on a large island with a large natural harbor. The leaders did not want all his huge fleet docked, but fortunately the harbor was big enough for them to drop anchor away from the docks. Euron's flagship was allowed to dock and he went ashore and luckily the banker Cersei told him about was waiting and some damn fool taxes for docking had already been paid. And then more troubles began.

"The commander of the Golden Company wants half the gold to pay his men before we sail," the banker told him.

"Then give it to him."

"The trouble is that I have not yet received a writ for the loan from Braavos yet."

"You run the bank here?"

"Just so."

"Then give them what they want."

"I don't have the authority to give that much without final orders from Braavos."

Euron argued and threatened but the banker wouldn't budge, couldn't budge according to their damn fool rules. Six days passed before he got the writ and finally they were ready. Meanwhile Euron made use of his time. He needed a man to do a special task. After some questions and coins changed hands he found the man he wanted, paid the fee, and secreted him aboard his flagship. He told no one who he was or what he was hired for. That would come later.

Strickland had the Golden Company encamped ten miles from the city, as close as the city leaders would allow them. They also only allowed five of Euron's ships to dock at a time to take on food and water and give some shore leave to the men. The city leaders did not want to be overrun with drunken soldiers and sailors, but gladly accept their gold, silver, and coppers for whatever they wanted. There was also some tension as it seemed the Golden Company had broken a contract with Tyrosh, which was gearing up for another one of its regular wars with Myr.

"Not enough gold," Strickland said when he explained this to Euron. "Never signed the contract, now did I? Promises were made, true enough, and they brought us here, but unless a contract is signed, we are not obliged to fight."

"Then let's get this signed before you change your mind or they kick you off this island," Euron told him as the banker thrust the papers on Strickland's camp table in his tent.

"First the gold," Strickland said.

Euron took two hundred of his men and a dozen wagons to carry the gold from the bank to the camp. And that was only part of the payment, enough for Strickland to pay his men and keep them happy. The Iron Bank would hold the rest for the future. A small portion went to Euron as well and he gave it all to his captains to share with their crews.

Cersei was playing another mad game with the Iron Bank. She used money taken from the Tyrells to pay off past loans and now took more loans to pay for these mercenaries. How she would pay off the new loans was anyone's guess, but Euron cared less about that than getting what he wanted first.

Strickland went over the crates of gold like an old miser, seemingly ready to count every coin. The banker told Euron that Strickland had once been the company paymaster. Euron could only shake his head at the fools who would elect this man as their battle commander.

When the count seemed satisfactory Strickland read over the contract, detail by detail. He got to one part and hesitated. "This says I must fight all the Queen's enemies."

"Yes," the banker said. "It is the standard wording."

"No, it isn't," growled a man nearby, who had more of the look of a battle commander. He was tall and red haired, well armed and armored, with many golden rings on his arms. Tristan Rivers, Euron would later know him as. "We sign to fight against Daenerys Targaryen and this Jon Snow fellow and that's it. Once they are done, we are too."

The banker fussed about and then he amended the contract and all was signed. Three more days it took to put the Golden Company on Euron's ships and five fat bellied cogs to hold their twenty war elephants, siege engines, and many supplies.

The return passage was rough, with some contrary winds, and a voyage that should have taken eight days took more than twelve. He lost no ships, but over fifty men died in the rough weather, a small number compared to the count of those on board. Some fell overboard, others cracked their heads on the deck when they fell from the rigging, and more fell ill and died. The ill were all from the Golden Company, men who had no stomach for the sea, could not keep their food down, and so weakened and died. Strickland was also ill but he managed to pull through. Finally they approached the city and all did not seem well. No ships were on Blackwater Bay, coming or going, and that was the first sign of trouble. They soon found out why. The approaches to the docks by the Mud Gate up the Blackwater Rush were iced over completely. A dozen or more ships were frozen solid upriver.

Only Euron's flagship was big enough to break the ice by the docks near the Mud Gate. His huge vessel had to move on all oars at a fast clip to break the ice. He worried he might damage the ship but he had to get in and get ashore. The iron ramming prow was tough but ice was nothing to fool with. Yet the ram did the job and as soon as they docked he leaped onto the wharf as his men tied up the ship. Euron grabbed the nearest person on the road by the gate, a gold cloak, standing guard, shriving in the cold.

"What happened here?"

"A dragon, my lord. Froze everything."

"What? Don't be a damn fool, man. Dragons breathe fire."

"Not this one, my lord."

"Whose dragon? Not Daenerys Targaryen?"

"Was hers. People say the Night King killed it and made it his."

Now this was interesting. "The Queen? She lives?"

"Yes. Tower of the Hand, my lord."

Out on the bay his ships were dropping anchor. He told Strickland to stay put and not land a man till he found out what was going on.

"Can't land anyways," Strickland said. "Can't get up in this ice. Take weeks to land by barge. And not the elephants."

"Stay put," was all Euron said to him. Worrying like an old woman, he was.

Euron felt the cold enter his bones as he entered the city. A sailor was never a stranger to cold but this was something new, something foul, and he felt it seep into his very skin. Still he had to act as if nothing concerned him, and little truly did, so he boldly marched into the city as if he owned it, up the icy streets to the Red Keep. Many buildings had icy coats, though many did not. And piles of broken ice were everywhere, filling the streets. Smoke rose from many chimneys he could see but hardly a soul was about. A city of million people, but where were they?

A guard of Lannister men met him by the gates. "The Queen will receive you in her chambers, my lord," said their leader. They led him across an icy courtyard and then he went up, many flights of stairs, and by the time he reached the top he was more than a little tired and pissed off.

They were all here, her seven guards, including Clegane, and the worm Qyburn as well. She was sitting at a table laden with food and drink. The room was very warm, with a large fire roaring in a nearby hearth.

"You have returned," she said.

"Aye, and just in time for lunch," Euron replied as he walked to the table and poured himself some wine. After a taste he took a long drink, and then he sat, grabbed some bread and meat, took a bite, chewed, swallowed, and then finally looked at her. "When is our wedding?"

"In three days," she said. "If you have the Golden Company."

He smiled. The day he returned she had promised. Now it was three days. And then there would be more delays, more excuses. She would never marry him. That much was clear.

"I have them," he replied. "But there is nowhere to land them. What the fuck happened here?"

Qyburn answered. "The Night King killed one of Daenerys Targaryen's dragons. He reanimated it and now it breathes blue cold…ice, if you will."

"Bloody hell."

"Indeed. The Wall has fallen. Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen have joined up in Winterfell with all their forces by now. What state they are in is uncertain. The Night King attacked here over a week ago. Many died….many more fled."

"Maybe I will sail home after all."

"Do so and you will never have my hand," Cersei told him.

Euron grinned. "If I don't in three days, I am gone. Forever. The Golden Company will land after we wed." He drank his wine in one gulp, stood, and started to walk away.

The brute Clegane stepped in front of him, hand on his sword hilt. Euron gave him a steely glare. "Big man, if you do manage to kill me, I have ten thousand men on my ships that will tear what is left of this rat's nest to pieces. Including you."

That was a threat to Cersei more so than Clegane. Euron turned back to her. "Don't ever threaten me with your pet again."

"Don't ever try to leave me," she said, icy cold, the chill coming off her worse than that outside.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Start landing the Golden Company. Now, not in three days."

So it was a game she wanted to play. He could play, too. "At once, Your Grace," he replied as her gave a mock bow and then rose. "First, I must see my niece and return her to where she belongs. Where is she?"

"She is gone," Qyburn said.

Euron gave him a glare. "Gone where?"

This time the Queen answered. "Your nephew managed to free her during the dragon attack."

"Little Theon? So, he found his balls at last. Where did they go?"

"Dragonstone or perhaps White Harbor," Qyburn answered. "The Targaryen fleet is there, as are Lord Manderly's many ships."

Euron thought and then knew what he had to do. "The wedding can wait."

"What?" she said in surprise. "Why?"

Trying so hard to sound disappointed, as if she really wanted to marry him. "I have an appointment. Two actually. You want to win the war? The Golden Company is useless here. First I will attack Dragonstone and then White Harbor."

She stared at him and then nodded. "Burn it all to the ground. Put the soldiers to the sword. Bring the rest here, especially anyone with skills, a trade. We will need them to serve the city. And we need hostages as well. Make sure Lord Manderly's family lives."

"As you command, Your Grace," he said with a roguish grin and then he left them.

Strickland was unhappy with this news. "We need to rest, get supplies. Not go to sea again so soon. And she has dragons."

"Bloody hell, man, you knew she had dragons when you signed up for this venture."

"Yes, but now you say this Night King has one too. Not what we signed up for. To fight her and Snow, not any demons."

"Fine," Euron said. "We'll stay away from them. You can rest on Dragonstone. And don't worry about dragons. Daenerys has gone north to Winterfell with all her armies and her last two dragons. Only a few hundred men will be on Dragonstone. White Harbor will be a tougher nut to crack but we have the ships and the men."

"What defenses do these places have?"

"Walls, ships, men, spears…the usual. It's time to earn your pay Harry."

He left Strickland to stew over this as he went down below and found the man he had paid. "Go ashore, find out what you can about the Queen."

"It will be done," said the man in his strange eastern accent. He was dressed as a common sailor. He was of no special description, a plain looking fellow, older than Euron but not by much. But Euron knew such men could look like who they wanted, so he was not certain of anything about him. And as Euron watched the man's face seemed to shift slightly and he looked younger, and his eyes also seemed to have changed color. "Aye, my lord, I will do you good service." Now he spoke as if he was born and raised in Westeros.

When he was gone Euron raised a flag to his highest mast, a signal for all captains to come to his ship. They arrived in small boats, landing on the stony beach where there was no ice, just outside the Blackwater Rush, and then they made their way on foot to his ship. All were there by the hour before sunset.

The meeting took place on deck where there was more room for so many. Euron told them his plans, and long they talked and decided what to do. They had enough supplies for the first part. In the morning they would sail for Dragonstone. One thing he told them. "Theon is mine to kill. Take Yara alive if you can. If not, gut her."

The next morning after sunrise the man returned. "What news?" Euron asked as he ate his breakfast in his main cabin.

"News of plenty, my lord," he began.

"Speak."

"After the dragon attack most of the people fled south. All who had wealth and means certainly did so. The Queen's army is reduced by half, some dead, some fled."

"She needs me now more than ever. What else?"

"Ser Jaime Lannister is gone, left the city almost a month ago now. Some say he argued with his sister."

"About what?"

"Her refusal to send the army north as she had promised."

"So the cunt never told her brother her plan. Maybe she hates him now."

"Maybe, or maybe not. There is another rumor. It is whispered the Queen is pregnant…and Ser Jaime is the father."

Euron grunted. "That is why she drags her feet. She has an heir already. She doesn't need me. My ships and men she needs." Then came an ideal, so wicked he had to grin. "I want you to kill it."

"It, my lord?"

"The baby…but make sure Cersei lives. I want her to feel the pain of being betrayed. Can it be done?"

"Just so. A special powder in her food, derived from a plant. Many young women of the east use it to get rid of unwanted babies. The god of death accepts all."

"Good. I will double your fee if you succeed. Now go."

He left and then Euron took his flagship out of the docks and after some hard rowing they got clear of the ice. The natural fast flow of the Blackwater Rush helped in this regard.

North they sailed, then northeast, for Dragonstone, home of the Targaryens of old. The dragon queen had her island and she could have stayed safe on it, but she was the opposite of Cersei. While Cersei sat and did nothing about the danger from the north, Daenerys Targaryen had acted. Aye, she was the woman for him. Younger, more beautiful, and not a fool. Once White Harbor was taken he would march his army to Winterfell, kill Jon Snow and the other fools, and take the dragon queen as his bride.

---

Winterfell – Arya

Silent and still she stood outside the Queen's doors, awaiting the call for breakfast. Daenerys awoke early each morning and ate breakfast in her rooms. She always asked Arya to join her and as Arya was always hungry at this time of day she accepted. Arya awoke at an early hour, practiced with Needle, and then came to the Queen's quarters, where she dismissed the two Unsullied night guards and took up her post.

The one called Grey Worm did not like the arrangement. "You are a little girl," he said when the Queen first told him Arya's new position as they marched towards Winterfell. No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Arya had Needle at his throat and Dragonblade at his gut. Daenerys smiled and Grey Worm scowled but then he nodded his head. "You will do."

She would do…for this at least. The Hound had said something about a Queensguard and Daenerys had agreed. But all she knew of such things told her it was not for her. They served for life and did not wed or have children. And slowly Arya was beginning to think there might be more to life than taking revenge on her enemies. It was all she had thought on for years…until now.

It was Gendry, of course, and somewhere deep inside her they were back in that cave in the Riverlands, him mending Lord Beric's armor and Arya about to leave him…maybe forever. She had said those words "I can be your family" and he had said she wouldn't, she would just be 'my lady'. And it still hurt.

Of course he was right…back then. Now things were so different. Robb was gone, her mother and father were gone, Sansa was head of her house, and Arya was not a little girl anymore. She was a woman…who had never been kissed or spent a night with a man.

The Queen was late awakening and Arya worried so she opened the door a crack. "Your Grace?"

"Come in," said a quiet voice.

Arya entered and found Daenerys sitting up in her bed, still under her blankets, with her knees pulled up tight, her arms wrapped around them, and she looked like she hadn't slept much. After what Jon had told her yesterday Arya was not surprised. Daenerys first words confirmed it.

"I am not the ruler of Westeros," she said quietly.

"What? No…I mean…yes, you are."

"You know, don't you? About Jon?"

Arya nodded. "Yes."

"Who else knows?"

"Bran, Sam, Sansa…that's it. Oh, and Gilly, Sam's woman. But they won't tell anyone."

"I still don't understand it all…how can Bran see their wedding?"

"His visions…sorry, I can't explain it either. But the passage Gilly found in that diary seems to confirm it."

There was a knock and it was the serving girl with the Queen's breakfast. Arya let her in and she put the tray on the table and left. Arya waited for Daenerys to get out of bed but she stayed there.

"If it is true, then Jon should be ruler," she said. "All these years he has been the true heir to the Iron Throne. Not my brother Viserys, not me."

"He doesn't want it," Arya told her. "Told us to keep quiet about it."

"You've been trying to tell me."

"I have. But only because we need a second dragon rider."

"We do. And the dragons are responding to him like no one else. That alone tells me he has my blood."

"Good. Then it is time to get up, eat, and teach him how to fly before we all end up dead. You are still our Queen and no one will ever know different."

"I will."

"Bloody hell," Arya said and the Queen looked at her in surprise as Arya sat on the edge of her bed. "Look, what makes someone ruler? Not because they are born to it, like your father, not because they take the throne in a war, like Robert, but…"

"Because they believe they are."

"Exactly. You are the Queen because you believe you are and that does not change because of what Jon told you."

She smiled a bit. "Thank you. Your words are well said, but it does not change the fact that I am not the heir."

"If we don't win this war, none of that will matter. We need strong leaders, and we need your dragons…Your Grace."

"Yes, we do."

"And remember, you are the Queen we choose."

"Not everyone, not yet."

"They will."

"When?"

"Soon. Northerners are not like other people."

"That I certainly know. Your brother…no, sorry…"

"Yes, he is, still my brother."

"Very well. He was certainly stubborn when I asked him to bend the knee."

"But he did, eventually, right?"

"Yes."

"The rest will too. Breakfast is getting cold…Your Grace."

She sighed and then smiled. "Time to face the day."

Daenerys got up, dressed and they sat to breakfast. Arya wondered if this is what the girl Missendei would have been doing if she had not died. Arya didn't know her but by all accounts she was the Queen's closest companion for years. Maybe that was another reason she seemed so sad. But mainly because of Jon. Davos said they may be in love, but now, after what they found out, maybe that was what the true problem was. He was her nephew and she his aunt, and Arya knew Jon would see this as an insurmountable obstacle to love.

Another knock came and Arya answered the door. It was Sam Tarly…and Jon. They came in and the Queen stood.

"Good morning, Your Grace," Jon said as he dipped his head.

"Good morning," she replied and then looked away from Jon and looked at Sam, who had cast his eyes down. A raven scroll was in his hands, unopened.

"Who from?" the Queen asked.

"Cersei Lannister," Jon said. Sam thrust the scroll out, she took it, and he turned without a word and left. Jon looked pained at this act. "Sam…" But Tarly was gone.

The Queen sensed why he had acted so rudely. "You told him I killed his father and brother?"

"No," Jon said. "Only that they died in battle against you and the Dothraki. He's taken it badly. I best not tell him it all."

"I see." She held the scroll in her hand and looked at Jon. He looked at her and Arya could see the attraction they had for each other. As the silence lingered Arya wondered who would speak first so she did.

"The message, Your Grace." That seemed to break a spell between them, as if they had both been holding their breath. Daenerys sat and opened it and read.

"Gods, what a woman," she said as she finished. She handed it to Jon, who took it and read aloud. There were no titles or opening words, just a terse message.

"You may do as you wish with my traitorous brother Jaime Lannister. The whole realm knows he killed your father and he has admitted it on many occasions. He has committed other crimes, including what happened to Brandon Stark. Please tell that little whore Sansa and whoever else still has their heads that I saw Jaime push the boy from a tower window in Winterfell. If you want to know why, ask him."

At the end she wrote "Queen Cersei Lannister, True Ruler of Westeros," and added all her titles, an insult to Daenerys.

Arya hardly heard the end. In her mind Jaime Lannister was already dead. But she kept silent, kept her face calm, using all she learned in Braavos to control her emotions.

"Why would she write such a thing?" the Queen asked. "Does she think it will cause dissension?"

"She's evil," Arya said, calmly. "She will stop anyone who gets in her way. Including her family."

Jon was unable to control his emotions. "You can't let him take the black, Your Grace. He hurt Bran. He killed your father. He needs to die."

"I made a promise to Lord Tyrion," she replied. "I will not break it."

"Then let us try him and be done with it," Jon said. "Let him confess his crimes in front of all."

"They all want to kill him already," Daenerys replied. "I am surprised he has lived this long. No, we will wait till the war is done. If he survives, then we will deal with him."

Jon did not like it but finally nodded. "Aye."

"We have flying lessons today," she said. "I will see you at the dragons." Jon dipped his head and left. The Queen seemed to let out another breath she was holding in and sagged in her chair. "This is going to be too hard."

"Do you love him?" Arya asked.

That startled her. "What do you know?"

"Enough. Sansa does too."

"Then you know why we are in such turmoil."

"It doesn't matter if he is your nephew," Arya said. "You both didn't know that before."

"But we know it now."

"I thought Targaryens wed brother and sister."

"They did."

"So? Why not aunt and nephew?"

Daenerys sighed. "He hasn't asked. And I fear he never will…not now."

Arya had no answer to this because she knew she was right. Jon would never ask, his sense of honor too strong, what Eddard Stark had taught him running too deep to be dismissed so easily, even for the love of a woman

Arya looked at the scroll on the table. "Are you going to ask him why he pushed my brother?"

"No. That is not my affair. I leave it to you and Lady Sansa. Take the scroll and show him. And please don't kill him. If I am still your Queen then that is a royal command."

"As you command, Your Grace."

They finished breakfast and then Arya left her with Jon by the dragons, the two seeming still awkward around each other, with plenty still to discuss. She then went and found Sansa who was in the kitchens, with the Hound and Brienne nearby as usual these days. Sansa was making sure food was being cooked and distributed properly for all. Outside in the camps and wooden barracks the wildlings, Dothraki, Unsullied, and the Watch had their own cooks and eating arrangements but there were so many inside the castle it was an all day affair just preparing food. Outside the walls and camps the barricades and trenches were going up as Jon commanded. Wildling patrols on tough ponies were spread out northward, with signal fires prepared to light the moment they saw the enemy.

She took Sansa aside in the hall between the storage rooms and kitchens and showed her the scroll. "Gods," Sansa said after she read it. "Now we know. Come. We must tell Bran first."

"Yes."

"And then Lord Tyrion."

"Why him?"

"Because he is his family. We do this right, Arya. And we don't murder him. Or Theon."

Arya just looked at her, said nothing, stayed calm. "I know what you are thinking," Sansa said after a moment. "Theon saved me. You kill him, and we will never speak again."

"You would put that traitorous rat before family?" Arya asked, letting her anger seep into her words. "After all he has done?"

"You have no idea what they did to me," Sansa replied, her voice quiet. "While you were off learning how to kill and change your face, I was here, being used, by Ramsey…night…after night…after night."

Arya knew he was cruel, but now it finally dawned on her, what Sansa had been through. "I…I didn't realize."

"No one wants to realize," Sansa said, her voice breaking. "Everyone who was here knew, but they shut their eyes and ears. They were afraid. No one did anything to help me…except Theon. There are no words for what Ramsey was. What he did to me was bad, but what he did to Theon was so much worse. For months he had him, torturing him, cutting off parts…cutting off everything."

Arya knew that much, everyone did, and she was glad. "It's still not enough. He killed Ser Rodrik, his ironmen killed so many more. Maester Luwin…he taught us, he was like a second father to us. Are you just going to forget all that?"

"I will never forget. But I can't forget what he did for me in the end. Leave it be, Arya. Please."

Arya had just become one with Sansa again and knew now how much this meant to her. She finally nodded. "As you wish. But someday someone will kill him. The North remembers."

Sansa had no answer to that. "Come. We must see Bran. And then Jaime Lannister."

As they left the kitchens Brienne and the Hound followed them. "I can protect my sister," Arya said.

"We know," said Brienne. "But we have our duty as well."

"Aye, she's a killer all right," the Hound added. "How many left on the list now?"

"Some," Arya said.

"Cersei for sure," he said as they went across the courtyard. Suddenly there was the screech of a dragon and as they looked up Drogon was flying…and then so was Rhaegal…with Jon on his back, holding on for dear life.

"Gods," said Brienne. "Is that your brother?"

"Yes," said Arya and Sansa at the same time, and then they shared a look that said so much.

"How the fuck can he fly a bloody dragon?" the Hound asked.

"He can," Sansa said. "How is not important."

They continued walking towards the library where they hoped to find Bran. Off to the left across the courtyard was the forge and there was Gendry with the rest of the smiths, and Bronn and Podrick, and Tormund, and it looked like they were finally getting the dragon bolt killing machine together.

"Never work," said the Hound. "Dragons are too big."

"The Night King killed one of them," said Brienne. "So it is possible."

"None of us is that demon," he replied. "None of us has his spears."

Arya looked toward Gendry but he was too busy to notice her. Tormund was not, and he was staring at them. The Hound laughed. "Big man got it bad for you."

"Shut up," said Brienne. It was no surprise to Arya. The whole castle seemed to know.

"Fine," said the Hound. "But you best be careful."

"Why?"

"Cause them wildlings got their traditions too," he said. "They like a woman, they have to take her from her family. Proves how tough they are. Pull them right out of their tent and off into the night. If the father and sons catch him they beat him bloody, maybe even kill him. If not or he beats them, he can keep the girl."

"He can try it," Brienne said. "Then he will see how tough I am."

"Aye, that he will."

"Please wait outside," Sansa said to Brienne and the Hound as she and Arya mounted the steps to the library tower. It had been burnt, after they had left Winterfell for King's Landing, burnt twice, by the man who tried to murder Bran and later by the ironmen. But the Boltons had repaired everything, thinking they would rule forever…and now they were dead. Nothing was forever.

He was here with Sam and Gilly and their son, all of them with their noses in books, even the little boy, looking at an old picture book with dragons and other beasts.

"We need to speak to our brother, alone," Sansa said.

"Why?" Bran asked.

"It's important…please."

Sam was already rising as were his little family. "Time for little Sam's riding lesson anyway, my ladies," he said. The wildlings had taken Gilly and little Sam into their hearts and were teaching the boy all about their ways.

After they were gone Sansa handed Bran the scroll. "From Cersei Lannister." He took it, read it, and then looked at them…and said nothing.

"So?" Arya said, losing patience. "This proves it. You must remember now."

"No…I don't," he said.

"Why are you protecting him?" Sansa asked, frustration in her voice. "He tried to kill you."

"I don't remember."

"It doesn't matter," Arya said. "When he sees this he will confess."

"Yes…he will," Bran said in that cryptic way he had that was so maddening.

"What did he tell you?" Sansa demanded.

"You have to ask him. It is not my place."

They left, him, both angered. "He remembers," Arya said as they walked down the stairs. "He won't say anything because he thinks that monster made him what he is, a Three Eyed Raven. What the hell is he now?"

"Something more than our brother. Never mind. Jaime will confess."

She asked Brienne to stay with Bran and mind him. She looked taken aback for a moment and then dipped her head and went into the tower.

"I had to do that," Sansa said as the three of them walked across the courtyard. "She won't like what comes next. Sandor, do you know where Tyrion Lannister is?"

"Drunk somewhere, I suppose."

"Please find him."

"Aye, my lady."

"No…wait," Arya said. "There they are."

Jaime and Tyrion were just coming out of the septon's tower, where Jaime's cell was. He had on his sword and looked like he was going to man the wall or train. Arya's hand automatically went to Needle.

"Sandor, stay close to us," Sansa said.

"What's going on?"

"Just stay close and do as I say."

"Ah, the lovely Stark ladies," said Tyrion with a dip of his head. "Good morning."

"Good morning, my lord," Sansa said in the proper way. "We need have words with you and your brother."

"Really? Well, it is a bit cold out here, and I am a bit parched. My quarters would…"

"No," Sansa said. She looked at Jaime. "His. Sandor, take his sword."

"Ser," the Hound said as he looked at Jaime.

"Why?" Jaime asked.

"Just fucking do it," the Hound replied with a growl.

Jaime looked to Tyrion, who nodded and then Jaime undid his sword belt with his one good hand and gave it to the Hound. "There. Now you have me at your mercy," Jaime said. "An unarmed one handed man surrounded by enemies."

"Keep talking like that," Arya began. "And you won't have to worry about it too long."

"Is this my trial?" Jaime asked.

"No," Sansa said. "We have something to tell you…both. Inside…please."

Still trying to be a lady, even with this monster. It was right that Sansa was Lady Stark, not her. She would never have the patience for it.

As they walked up the stairs Tyrion talked. "If I am not mistaken I believe I saw Jon Snow riding a dragon this morning."

"You are not mistaken," Sansa said. "As for your next question, Jon's mother had some Targaryen blood."

"Indeed? Well, I should like to talk to him about family history someday. I always wondered if our family did not have a drop or two of dragon blood. The blond hair, you see. Though that trait does go back as far as our forebears, so maybe not."

"Gods, I did not miss you talking," said the Hound.

"Don't be a dour fellow all your life. Now what's this all about?"

"Wait," Sansa said.

Soon they were in Jaime's room, the five of them crowded inside. "You had better sit, both of you," Sansa told them and after a look to each other they did so, on the bed, side by side, and Sansa handed them the scroll.

"This arrived this morning…from your sister."

Jaime read it first and Arya took delight in watching his face pale. Tyrion took the scroll from his brother with impatience, read, looked at Jaime and then back to them.

"Well, our sister does have a way with words."

"Is it true?" Sansa asked Jaime.

"I will wait for my trial to give that answer," he said. "I still believe your Queen has promised me such."

"She has," Sansa said. "If you confess now, we will be more inclined to be merciful."

Jamie shook his head. "I am not sure I want to test the Stark sense of justice. Someone is killing all the people who wronged you. I am sure I am next on the list. I wouldn't want to anger anyone."

As he said this his eyes fell on Arya. "You did it," she said. "We know you did. Your sister just said you did. And then you hired some man to cut his throat while he slept so he would never tell the world the truth."

"No…he didn't," said the Hound from behind her.

"What?" Tyrion and Arya said at the same time.

"It's true," said Sansa. "Ser Jaime never hired the man…Joffrey did."

And so the Hound told a story about the man and the dagger Arya had and by the time it was done Jaime and Tyrion were in shock, and both were angry, none more so than Tyrion.

"But why?" he demanded. "Did the boy ever insult him? Harm him?"

"Not that we know of," said Sansa.

"It makes no sense," Tyrion said. "All the wars, the dead…it makes no sense."

Jaime stood and was glaring at the Hound. "You knew. You knew Tyrion was innocent, you knew the whole time and you said nothing? How many died because of that lie?"

The Hound glared back. "Littlefinger's lies, not mine. I didn't know shit till we got to King's Landing and after their mother took the Imp prisoner. Then it was too late. Your father called his banners, you attacked Ned Stark, Robert died…and everything went to shit. He was the prince…and then the king. I was nobody."

They were silent for a moment and then Arya spoke. "This changes nothing. He still pushed Bran." She looked at Sansa. "Well?"

"Ser Jaime, you are confined to this room until your trial," Sansa said. It was not what Arya wanted but it would have to do….for now.

Jaime shrugged. "So…no chance to die in battle? Fine by me. It's a bit too cold for my liking anyway."

Tyrion looked at him in exasperation. "Do not press them, brother dear. They want to see your blood…and for once I don't blame them."

Jaime looked hurt by these words and Arya was glad. Now he was in one place, and would stay here. There was no chance he would ever escape justice now. And if by some miracle they all survived and the Queen made him take the black, he would never reach the Wall alive.

The rest of the day passed uneventful. She trained, she ate, she guarded the Queen when she and Jon returned, and then she met Gendry.

They ate dinner together, with Brienne and Pod and Bronn and Sam and his family. The great hall was full, with many discussions among the high born, but Arya stood apart from all that. She and her companions were becoming a regular little group in the great hall. Bronn told outrageous stories about his life, while Pod and Brienne told stories about what they did on the road. Arya told some stories too, about the Hound, and his love for chicken, what happened to her and Gendry at Harrenhal…but nothing about Braavos…or the Twins…until this night.

Bronn looked at them all. "Okay, you all tell good stories, aye, you're all brave fighters, but who here killed the most men at one time?" He put a gold dragon on the table. "The winner gets this."

Pod started to speak. "But you…"

"Now, now Pod, let's hear all the stories first," said Bronn and Arya knew he was lying about something, but what it was she knew not. "Let's see…the smith. How about you?"

"I killed two gold cloaks at the same time with my war hammer," Gendry told them.

Bronn made a dismissive wave. "Two is nothing. Pod?"

"Just one…but he was a Kingsguard."

"Ser Mandon Fucking Moore," Bronn said.

"Why did you kill him?" Arya asked Pod.

"He tried to murder Lord Tyrion during the Battle of the Blackwater. He thinks Joffrey ordered it. Or Cersei. Never quite sure."

"It was Joffrey. Nice family," said Bronn. "Brienne?"

"Several in battle…not more than three at a time I believe. But I did beat the Hound."

"He didn't die," said Arya. "But you did kill a king."

"Two kings, way I heard it," said Bronn.

Brienne got angry. "I never killed Renly. It was a shadow, a spirit, from that damn red woman."

"Ah, but still a Kingslayer, number two," said Bronn. "You and Ser Jaime will make a nice couple." Brienne gave him a glare and left the table.

"You shouldn't do that," Pod said. "She loved Renly."

"Then give her my apologies," Bronn said without a care. "Next. Sam?"

Sam almost blushed. "Well, not too many."

"He killed a White Walker, saved us," Gilly said. "And a Thenn at Castle Black."

They all looked at Sam in surprise. "You killed a Walker?" Pod asked, not quite believing it.

"I did…with dragon glass."

"I think we have a winner," Gendry said. "A Walker has to count for more than a few. I've seen them. Nasty. Give him the coin."

"Maybe," said Bronn, and then his eyes fell on Arya. "We haven't heard from everyone yet. Lady Stark?"

"I'm not playing."

"Why not?" he asked. "I heard you're a real killer now. The Hound said you killed three men in a tavern."

"Two. He killed the other three."

"Ah, well…not enough. You see…"

"I heard it was fifty," said Sam in a rush. "Fifty Freys…at dinner…with poison."

They were all looking at her, with wide eyes, even Bronn, while Arya glared at Sam. "Well, you did, didn't you?" he asked in a meek voice

"You want to know who I killed?" she asked in an angry voice, forgetting all her training at the House of Black and White. "I killed a stable boy in King's Landing the day they took my father prisoner. I had many men killed at Harrenhal by an assassin who befriended me. I killed a Frey who helped murder my brother. I did him with a dagger in the neck. I killed the two men in that tavern. One of them had killed my friend Lommy when we were taken prisoner by the Lannisters. I killed Ser Meryn Trant in Braavos. Yes, Pod, you're not the only one to kill a Kingsguard. I took out his eyes first and then cut his neck. I killed a girl who tried to murder me in Braavos. She was a trained assassin. I did it in the dark, with a sword. I slit Walder Frey's throat open after I served him a pie with bits of his two eldest sons' bodies inside. And then I poisoned about fifty more Freys at dinner. So, do I win?"

They were all staring at her, shocked looks, even Gendry a bit, who knew most of this already…and then Bronn smiled. "Nope. I win."

"You knew you would win," said Pod with a shake of his head in disgust.

"That I did," Bronn answered with a wolfish grin.

"How?" Gendry demanded.

"It was me that fired the flaming arrow that hit the wildfire that blew up half Stannis' fleet at the Blackwater. Killed more than a few thousand, I reckon, with just one arrow. And they made me a knight for it."

No one said a word as Bronn picked his gold coin up and pocketed it. He took a long drink from his ale cup, put it down, and looked at them. "That was fun. What's next?"

"Bed," said Arya as she stood. She looked towards the head table, where the Queen was in deep discussion with Sansa and Lady Mormont. Two Dothraki stood behind her and so she needed no protection now. She looked for Jon but he as not here in the crowded hall.

She found him outside in the courtyard near the stables, staring up into the night sky, where for once for a long time there were no clouds and they could see the stars. "I always wondered what they were," he said as she joined him.

"Maester Luwin said they were balls of fire, like our sun."

"Aye, maybe so," Jon said. "I miss him."

"I miss them all."

Jon sighed. "We are all that is left."

"There is the future."

"Is there?"

"Jon…"

"Sorry. I shouldn't talk like that…but I worry…about everything."

"We have a plan."

"But is it good enough? We need more men, more oil, more arrows. He has a hundred thousand wights. If all the armies of Westeros were here it might still not be enough. Everyone that dies rises again unless we burn them."

"We will win…we must," she answered. "If not…all this will be gone."

"Aye."

"They believe in you, Jon."

"I know…and it's what worries me most."

"You are good enough. You are…"

"Who?" he asked. "Who am I?"

"Jon Snow…and always will be, like I keep telling you."

He grinned as he looked at her. "I suppose I will be. There's more Stark in me than anything else." He paused and then looked at her. "How is she taking it?"

"Badly...no, I mean...just, she feels like she isn't ruler anymore."

"Gods, I never should have told her."

"She had to know." And then Arya had to say it. "There's more to it. I think she loves you. And you her."

He sighed. "Maybe so…but it can't be."

"Why not?"

"Because we are the same blood."

"You didn't know that when you fell in love."

"I know it now."

"Time is running out."

"It is…but it's something I cannot do."

She would not press him on this, knew she should not...yet. They were silent for a few moments. "How was the dragon?" she asked.

"Magnificent…and terrifying."

"Tyrion asked how. We told him it was your mother's blood."

"Did he believe it?"

"Maybe."

Again they were silent and then Jon spoke. "Sansa says you have fallen for the smith, Gendry."

She felt her cheeks get hot. "I…I…don't know."

"That answer tells me you do know. Maybe you should take your own advice. Time is running out."

He walked back inside the great hall and she stood there and looked up at the stars and thought on his words. And then he was there, by her side.

"Are you okay?" Gendry asked.

She turned and looked at him. "What? Ah, yes. Why?"

"You seemed upset after telling about all the people you killed."

"I was upset. I didn't mean to do that. In Braavos they taught me how to control my face, my feelings, my words."

"Yes, I noticed you seem…calmer."

"What? Was I always angry before?"

"No…but not like this. Sometimes I think you have no feelings for anything anymore."

"I do!" she protested. "I…I…never mind."

"What?"

She sighed and then she knew Jon was right. Time was running out. "Do you remember the cave?"

"Yes," he answered without hesitating.

"What I said to you?"

"I can be your family."

He remembered. "And you said I wouldn't, I would only be my lady."

"And then I was gone."

"Yes."

A long silence lingered and then she asked him a stupid question but later she knew it was the right question. "Am I pretty?"

"What?"

She flushed and looked down. "Sorry…I just…Hot Pie said…"

"Yes…you are. Very…beautiful, in fact."

She felt her heart clutch tight and she looked up again. "I care for you," she said in a bare whisper.

"I care for you too…a lot."

A long silence lingered and finally she summoned the courage to speak. "I don't know what to do," she finally said.

"Neither do I."

She knew she would have to be the one to act. As if in a dream she took his hand in hers, and walked with him towards the great keep, up the stairs and into her room. They didn't say a word, but suddenly she was in his arms and their lips met for the first time, and then clothes were coming off, and they were in the bed, together, she with someone she cared about, maybe loved, and for a time all the rest of the world did not matter anymore.