Gendry Baratheon found his wife, as fierce as the day that they had met, in the burned Godswood of Storms End, a gift from the late Stannis Baratheon that burnt the place of worship in the name of his Red God.

The Lord of Storms End gazed upon his wife of seventeen years with fondness as she was seated in the center of the Godswood, her eyes closed as he prayed to the Old Gods, her father's gods, her grandfather's gods, her beloved brother's gods. Gendry knew that Arya had no true belief in the Old Gods of the Forest, her worship lay with Death, the God of the Faceless Men that she trained with for years during her self-imposed exile to the East, but she would come to the Godswood to be closer to her father, and her dead elder brother.

"Don't just stand there like a ninny, Gen." Arya snapped, eliciting a smirk to curve at Gendry's lips at his wife's fiery temper that had not faded even as a wife and mother. "It is clear that you have something to say." She told him, her grey eyes sharp. "You are not a man who cares for the gods, be they mine or your father's, so tell me."

Gendry sighed deeply as he took a seat beside his wife, gazing into the eyes of the mutilated weirwood tree, a shiver going through him even after all these years as the sight of those red, bleeding eyes.

"King's Landing." Arya realized, her expression hard. "There is news from King's Landing, is there not?"

Gendry still said nothing.

"Speak, you stubborn bull!" Arya huffed, glaring into her husband's eyes and Gendry finally relented.

"Not only King's Landing." Gendry said after a moment of silence. "Your brother also sent us a raven." Gendry told her, observing her surprise. "Well, he sent it you more than me, but his news is grave, no matter its recipient." Gendry explained, not surprised when Arya snatched the missive out of his hands, her expression eager for news from her favorite brother.

"Arya," Arya began reading, her expression soft as she envisioned her brother who she had not seen for years. "I write to you with heavy heart. Long has it been since we have spoken but as you may or may not know, the King and Queen have demanded of their Lord Paramounts to come to King's Landing, to celebrate their heir's nameday they say, but you and I know the Dragons have ulterior motives." Arya continued, her expression darkening at the mere mention of the Dragon King and Queen. "I implore you, sweet sister, come to King's Landing and support your family as you always have." Arya felt herself nodding eagerly to the letter. "Love always, your beloved brother, Jon Stark."

Arya was silent, tears sliding down her cheeks as she held the letter from her elder brother to her chest.

"You know your brother intends to invoke rebellion." Gendry said after a moment, his expression grim. Gendry had never known what to feel about the Lord of Winterfell, not sure whether to follow him or curse him for his ambition and ruthlessness. When he was still a bastard boy with nothing to his name, it was Jon Stark who had at the time been the King in the North who had accepted him and treated him as one of his own as they fought and bled to bring back a Wight to prove to the Targaryens that the threat was true and for that Gendry called the man his brother but his brother would become a man lost to his vengeance and ambition in the end of the war, a path that Gendry refused to follow, much to the anger of his wife.

"My brother means to avenge our sister." Arya corrected him, her blazing grey eyes turning to look into his own stormy blue orbs. "You called him your brother, and he called you kin, why do you struggle to stand behind him now?"

Gendry was silent for so long that neither he or Arya were sure that he would even answer the question.

"I love Jon, he is the brother I chose, yet I have children now." Gendry told her. "We have children now." He told her, his calloused hands holding her small but no less calloused hands gently. "Can we not ignore what games the Realm plays?" He begged her more than anything. "We have love and family here, why risk it all for vengeance?"

Arya was silent for a moment and so melancholy that Gendry had the foolish hope that his logic could get through this infuriatingly proud woman.

"No."

It was not to be.

"I cannot turn my back on my brother, not now, not ever." She told him sternly. "Jon has always stood by me. When I was Arya Underfoot, Jon threatened Jeyne Poole and her cronies. When I was a lost woman from the House of Black and White, Jon accepted me and protected me." Arya shook her, a feeling of guilt filling her at the war that she knew would bring devastation on her family. "I must stand by him, as he always has by me."

Gendry merely sighed, knowing anything he would say was for naught for Arya Stark's loyalty belonged to the White Wolf above all.

They were saved from further confrontation when Lyanna, his beautiful daughter, rushed into the Godswood, flushed red as she breathed heavily.

"Mother, Father," Lyanna began as Gendry and Arya arched an eyebrow ", Orys just received a missive from Uncle Rickon." She told them, observing as her mother quickly shot up, appearing by her side.

"Rickon?" Gendry wondered, standing up as he walked towards his wife and daughter who were reading the letter. "Your youngest brother hasn't been in Westeros for a year, what is this raven out of nowhere?"

He felt a sense of dread fill his entire being at his wife's excited grin and his daughter's amused smile.

"Those brothers of mine have grown more devious over the years." Arya cackled, throwing her head back. "It seems the 'argument' between Jon and Rickon was no more than a farce for that wild boy to go East to gather more allies." Arya shook her head, disbelieving that her once incredibly righteous and honorable elder brother could act with such cunning.

Gendry arched an eyebrow, wondering who in the seven hells Rickon could bring from the East that would help them in Jon's crusade against the Targaryen Dynasty. It was well-known that Daenerys Targaryen was well-loved in Essos.

"The Company of the Rose." Lyanna told her father, smiling gently. "Uncle Rickon has been speaking with them for months, trying to convince them to fight with the Starks of Winterfell for the first time since Brandon Whitestark left Westeros." She explained, inwardly eager to meet this Serena Whitestark that her uncle was praising in his raven.

"With this, things just got a little more interesting." Arya said with a grin. "Now, our war has an even greater chance."

Gendry furrowed his brows as the annoyed look that his daughter gave to her mother causing him to withhold a deep sigh. Gendry knew that his daughter loved Arya but Lyanna had always been more sweet-hearted, having taken more from Shireen than she ever had from Arya which constantly put the mother and daughter at odds.

Arya was fast-paced and eager for battle even after all these years while Lyanna believed that a gentle, more cunning approach was needed to attain what one wanted, a trait which Gendry was loath to say she inherited from her Uncle Jon during the years she was fostered in Winterfell as a child.

As Gendry observed his wife and daughter attempt to speak without getting angry and storming off, he hoped that Jon's ambitions would not bring death and destruction upon their families once again because after fifteen long years…

It was time to go back to King's Landing.

Jon Stark felt disgust fill his entire being as his grey eyes gazed upon the golden and beautiful façade of the capital city of Westeros, a façade that covered the injustice and the corruption that the Targaryens and the Baratheons before them had long attempted to cover up with their knights and their Seven and their beauty and their songs.

All lies.

Lies that brought only sorrow and ruin to his family, to his beloved sister who had once with her whole heart believed in the songs of true honor and of the beautiful knights that would protect her but when push came to shove, none stood in his sister's defense. The noble knights of Westeros merely stood by as his sister and his nephew were wrapped up in Targaryen cloaks to cover the blood that covered their bodies.

It was reported that Aegon Targaryen's eyes glinted with triumph as the bodies of his most wild vassal's relatives were laid before him, but Jon had never been a man to forgive or forget a slight, even as a boy when that damned Greyjoy would see fit to mock as a result of his bastard status.

The day would come when Aegon Targaryen and his whore rued the day that they crossed House Stark with impunity.

"Father," Jon heard his eldest son call to him and he turned to Cregan who was looking at him with a worried expression. Fool boy, he had his mother's heart and for that Jon was incredibly grateful. "are you alright?" The boy asked and instead answering, Jon merely nodded, fearing that he would explode if he spoke with his temper getting the better of him.

Jon almost smiled; Sansa always did scold him for his temper. And just as soon as that thought came to him, his fury returned to him. His fury was a curse as much as a blessing to him; it was his fury that won him the Battle of the Bastards, but it also his fury which built a wedge between him and the mothers of his children who could not understand the loyalty nor the love that he bore for his siblings and he knew they never would.

"Ha!"

Jon's thoughts of his fury were banished when he heard a familiar, booming voice that belonged to an old friend; he was proven correct when the beaming, jovial face of Devan Lannister, the Lord of Casterly Rock and the Warden of the West entered his vision, his beautiful daughter Joanna Lannister at his sister.

"It has been long, my friend!" Daven declared, as boisterous as ever as he gripped Jon at his shoulders, grinning widely. "You look good! As fierce as the day we slew Euron Greyjoy, and as stone-faced!" He laughed; it was a deep throaty sound.

Jon almost laughed at the expression on the faces of Cregan and Karsi who seemed completely and utterly bewildered at the behavior of the Lannister Lord. He knew it came as a surprise to them that their father whose lords usually acted with complete and utter respect towards him interacting with a man that acted more like he was Jon's drinking partner than a fellow Lord Paramount.

"You look well, as well, Daven." He said, finding secret joy in the utter shock on the faces of his children at his lack of formality towards another lord. "The years, it seems, have been kind to you, my friend." He said, gazing upon the great beard of his long-time friend. It seemed that even after Robb's death, the Lannister refused to shave his beard off that he first grew after his father's death, swearing not to shave it off until his father was avenged.

"At least, kinder than they were to you." Daven said, his words soft and meaningful as his gaze turned to Cregan and Karsi beside him. Jon took his meaning well as he nodded, indicating that they knew of his plans. "Well, look at you two, all grown up." Daven grinned as he turned completely towards his friend's children.

"You were still a babe when I last saw you, little wolf." He said to Edric Stark as he slapped the boy on the back causing Edric to stumble before holding himself up, glaring at the southern knight, his distaste of all thing southern clear to see; a fact which made Devan laugh like a pirate king. "HA! He truly is your son, Jon boy!"

"I am pleased to meet you, Lord Lannister." Cregan bowed his head lightly, but Devan merely laughed him off with a slap on the shoulder.

"Call me Daven, boy!" He said, cackling at the disdain on Cregan's face at being called a boy even though he was a man grown. "I should have known your father would make a warrior of you, Lady Karsi." Daven said with his grin still on his lips as he looked upon the lightly armored daughter of the Lord of Winterfell.

"Father sees the worth in all, Lord Lannister." Karsi said, her eyes hard. "He has the qualities of a King, a true one." She spoke, truly her mother's daughter with her impatience and recklessness but with a look from her father, she straightened up and bowed her head to him in apology, a sense of joy filling her when her father gave her an almost-smile.

"Lord Daven, let's have a spar." Jeor Stark said, a wicked grin on his lips. "Father has told me of your skill in battle, I'd like to test it." He said, ignoring his father who almost slapped his forehead in annoyance; his sons were more trouble than they were worth sometimes.

"Interesting, wild wolf. " Daven laughed. "Perhaps soon, Lord Jeor." He said before turning to his daughter, beautiful and golden. "As for me, my friend, this is my daughter, Joanna Lannister, named for my aunt." He said, while Jon tried hard not to show any outward emotion, his disdain for Tywin Lannister as clear as it was decades ago. "She recently had her nameday. Two and three, my sweet daughter is!" Daven laughed again.

"Nice to meet you, my lord." Joanna Lannister bowed her head to Jon, her sharp green eyes captivating, with a gentleness to them that Jon did not expect from a Lannister, even if it was his friend's daughter. "Father has told me much of you. I am honored to meet the man that ended the Second Long Night and brought peace to our world."

Jon felt himself swallow, feelings that he should not be feeling for a friend's daughter, no matter if she was already old enough to be a wife and mother, as he nodded his head, his own grey eyes looking into her emerald orbs.

"The pleasure is mine, Lady Joanna." He said, holding himself back from striking his fool son Jeor who was none too obviously rolling his eyes while Cregan was doing all in his power not to groan at his father's obvious attentions of the Lannister girl and Karsi was glaring at the blonde whore. "I apologize, my lady, but I have things to speak with your father."

Joanna nodded as she moved back.

Jon's grey eyes were steely as he looked into Devan's dark emerald eyes.

"Alone."

With a nod, Daven led Jon towards to Dancing Lion, an inn where they would get much privacy, away from unsuspecting eyes while their children began walking towards where the Lord Paramounts and their families would be staying; at the Red Keep.

After a few minutes of walking, Daven and Jon found themselves in the back room of the Dancing Lion, both men sat across from one another. For a long moment, there was silence in the room, a deep tension-filled silence that could be cut with knife.

"You have not given up, my old friend." Daven said after a moment, his voice much less boisterous. "That rage that filled your beings at the end of the war still burns as great as the day that, that tragedy took place."

Jon sighed deeply.

"Yes." He said simply. "I cannot forget. I will not forget. For almost two decades, I have simmered in icy cold hate, forced every day of my life to do nothing as my sister, her son and her unborn child remain unavenged." His eyes were as cold as ice. "You have remained silent as your own blood have remained unavenged." He clenched his fists. "Don't forget, my friend, Sansa's children were of your blood, as well."

Daven merely sighed, looking older than his years.

"Daven, when Sansa and her children were murdered, you told me something; do you remember what it was that you said to me?"

Daven grunted; knowing full well what he had told perhaps his oldest and most beloved friend, his brother in all but blood, linked by the blood of Sansa Baratheon's children and the blood they spilled during the Mad Kraken's Uprising.

"I do."

Jon's eyes did not soften.

"Tell me."

Daven clenched his jaw.

"What...were…the…words?" Jon hissed out every syllable, demanding of Daven to bring life back to those cursed words that he spoke all those years ago, words that he had spoken with anger and rage, not knowing of the family he would build and love more than life itself.

Yet.

Yet.

Yet, Jon was his brother, be they linked by blood or fate, they were brothers and he had a duty to his brother even before his duty to his family.

"You are the brother that I chose, Jon." Devan repeated those cursed words. "But, now is not yet the time for your fury and your hate. You must wait patiently, grow in strength and when that times comes, if your fury has not abated and if you still seek to bring them to task for their crimes, I and the entirety of the West will stand by you, to bring the ruin of those that took from us everything."

Devan appeared a broken man.

"This, I vow." But, as he spoke these words, he felt a new strength and fury come to him, that fury that he bore all those years ago. "I will do this, brother. I will act as your sword and shield in this coming war."

Jon almost smiled, but by the look on his friend's face, he knew that it was not over.

"But…"

Here it comes, Jon thought, as he prepared himself.

"I have one condition."

Daven stood up, tall and proud, with a wild grin.

"You will take my daughter to wife and make her your Queen."

Silence filled the room as Jon gawked and Daven grinned.

"What?"

Take a deep breath.

Jon Stark did all in his power to contain the fury that was growing within him as he glared into the mirth-filled eyes of Daven fucking Lannister. In truth, he shouldn't be surprised that a bloody Lannister would spring this on him out of absolutely nowhere but the Silver Lion would not get what he desired.

He was the White Wolf, and none would demand anything of him.

Breath.

He had to force himself to call so that he did lunge forward and beat the smug bastard within an inch of his life. Jon Stark was many things, but he was not stupid enough to strike a fellow Lord Paramount that would no doubt be a very useful ally, but not so useful that he would allow a southern power to be the North's Queen.

"Do you accept?" Daven asked, grinning like a fool as if he gave Jon the greatest offer that he could think of.

Fucking breath.

Alas, it was not to be as he slammed his hand in the wooden table that separated the Lord of Winterfell and the Lord of Casterly Rock.

"Do you take me for a gullible fool, Lord Lannister?" He hissed, his use of Daven's title showing that he more than a little displeased which Daven Lannister released very quickly if he didn't by his friend's hand slamming into the table that separated them. "I have ruled the North for twenty years." He said grimly.

"I ruled the North during the Long Night, I ruled the North during Euron Greyjoy's rebellion, I have ruled in war and in peace and not once in those twenty years have I given any woman a position of dominion in my kingdom." Jon stood up now, glaring down at Daven as if he was an insect at the bottom of his boot. "By what right does the Wild Lion demand anything of the White Wolf?"

Daven looked to say something, but Jon held a hand up to silence the Lion Lord.

"You are my friend, Daven, but do not think to demand anything of me." Jon said, his grey eyes as cold as ice. "From the day that I became the Lord of Winterfell, I decreed that the Lord of House Stark would not marry, that he would take a woman or more than a few women and would father children on them that would be Starks, but the woman would never carry the name nor the power of Lady Stark." Jon's eyes stared into his soul, the gaze in his eyes even more frightening than the Night King himself. "Never again, unless a Stark daughter is the Stark heir, will there ever be a Lady Stark again." He sat back down in his place, looking weary. "Catelyn Stark showed me the folly of a foreign woman having power over House Stark."

"Wait, you mean…" Daven trailed off, utterly stunned at what his friend was hinting at.

"Exactly, Silver Lion." Jon's voice was amused. "I, nor my son and heir Cregan will ever be wed." He told the Lannister Lord. "And should I and Cregan perish before Cregan has an heir of his own and Rickard my spare should be wed, it will be annulled upon his rise as Lord Stark." Jon fought the urge to cackle. "From this day forth, this is the law of House Stark."

Daven was silent for a long moment before he sat back with a loud sigh and crossed his arms over his muscular chest before grinning at his friend.

"You are a sly bastard, Jon Stark." Daven laughed as Jon merely smirked. "My question is how the hell did you convince Aegon fucking Targaryen of allowing this law to be passed."

Jon grinned but it was not a kind smile.

"House Targaryen are a long line of fools." Jon said calmly as Daven chortled. "When they conquered Westeros, nothing changed, and they allowed the kingdoms to rule their land as they pleased and as a result that they forgot that great houses have the ability to set their own house laws as long as it does not interfere with the laws of Gods and Men." Jon told his old friend. "I doubt the Targaryen fool and his boot-licking advisors even know that I set this law into effect even though I declared for the entire North to hear." He shook his head, behind amused.

"So, what do we do now?" Daven asked, sighing deeply. "We are brothers in all but blood, Stark, but I cannot convince the Westerlands to fight with the North without gaining something in return." He told his friend. "There is still much disdain between the Lords of the West and the North."

"You are not wrong." Jon nodded in agreement as a cunning smile curved at his lips. "But, that is why I have a counter offer of wedding your daughter to me or my heir." Jon said as Daven leaned forward, listening. "You have a son, your heir." Daven nodded. "And I have a daughter, my youngest who would bloom in the South." Jon continued. "Let them be wed, and let House Stark and Lannister be united." He declared. "To the marriage of Dalla Stark and Loren Lannister?"

"To Loren and Dalla!" Daven declared, smashing his mug of ale with Jon's own before grinning slyly at his friend. "I have another offer that will add an even greater unity along with their marriage."

"I am listening." Jon nodded, his eyes intent.

"You said you nor your heir will marry." Jon nodded. "I accept this at it is a written and accepted law of your house, so my counter offer is that you accept my daughter as your mistress and give her children that are named Stark."

Jon looked at the man as if he was mad.

"Are you mad?" He even said so. "What is with your fascination of wanting for a union between your daughter and I?" he demanded of him. "What manner of father would be accepting of his daughter becoming a mistress?"

"You worry too much, old friend." Daven laughed, as if he hadn't said the maddest thing in the seven hells. "That will be her title, but all in the Seven Kingdoms know you treat each of your mistresses with the respect and love you would give to a legally wed wife." He told the White Wolf with a smile, a gentler smile. "In this day and age, there is not many I would be willing to give my only daughter to; I trust none of these great houses but I trust you and I know you will treat my daughter as she deserves to be treated with no pressure of being a perfect wife or having to give her husband an heir." Daven laughed now. "You already have plenty of those."

Jon Stark was silent for a long moment; long enough that Daven was unsure if his friend was even going to say anything.

"I have one condition, Daven." He declared and though Daven appeared confused, he nodded in agreement, nodding for him to elaborate. "Your daughter is a woman grown, older than all of my children, and thus I will only accept this if she is accepting of this, if she is accepting of coming to the North, being one of four mistresses, and willing to have a child that will never come its father's heir apparent." He declared, his gaze hard.

"As I suspected; you're a good man, Stark." Daven said as if he hadn't known the man for over a decade. "Very well; I accept these terms." Daven and Jon shared a look, a look of mutual respect and understanding. "Well, let us call her in then." Daven said as he knocked on the closed door where a servant came in. "Boy, call in my daughter, will you?"

"As you command, my lord." The boy muttered before leaving the room and after a moment of silence, the door entered and in came Joanna Lannister, the beautiful twenty-three-year-old daughter of Daven Lannister, known far and wide as the Golden Jewel of the Westerlands.

"Come, my daughter, we have much to speak on." Daven said and with a nod, the graceful young woman sat beside her father and Jon was mesmerized. As much as he tried to control his wondering his eyes, the wolf within him roared in desire at a woman that surpassed even Val in beauty. "As you know, I came here with an offer of your hand to either Lord Stark or his heir."

Joanna nodded, neither meek nor angry as she refused to move her gaze away from Jon's steely grey eyes causing the Lord of Winterfell to smirk in approval.

"Unfortunately, information that he has given me has made this impossible." Her father said, grabbing her attention. "It seems, upon his rise to Lord Stark, Lord Stark decreed that no Lord Stark or Heir Apparent of House Stark would wed a woman that could claim the title of Lady Stark and would only be permitted to have his children from mistresses be claimed as Starks."

"You do not wish for your houses to face what many houses and dynasties in the past have faced, my lord." Joanna realized, bowing her head in respect. "That is a wise choice that many men do not have the strength to make."

Jon merely smiled as he nodded slightly.

"You are not disgusted with this choice?" Jon wondered as he looked upon the woman who was probably even more beautiful than Cersei Lannister in her prime. "That I and my heirs will dishonour the woman and allow bastards to claim what should belong to the trueborn?"

"Not at all, Lord Stark." Joanna said calmly. "In our history, so many kingdoms and dynasties and houses have fallen because of a King's wife or a Lord's wife. Women that seek to control what their husbands have but you cut this problem out root and stem by denying yourself and your heir the chance to even fall for this trap." Joanna declared. "I have great respect for a man of such insight and conviction."

Daven grinned at the bonding between his daughter and friend.

"The offer, as a result, changed." Jon continued, wishing to tell the woman that would bear more of his heirs the truth himself. "To bind House Lannister and House Stark, youngest daughter Dalla and your younger brother Loren will be wed in the sights of Gods and Men, allying the North and the West." He told her calmly as she nodded in understanding, realizing this gave more leverage to the North than the West as Lord Stark's laughter would become the next Lady Lannister. "He gave another offer, to sweeten the deal per say." Jon continued, almost glaring at Daven who cackled.

"Hm?" Joanna hummed, truly curious.

"Lord Lannister offered for me to take you as my fourth mistress, to father sons and daughters would bear the name Stark even if you would not become Lady Stark." He told her while Joanna froze, trying to comprehend this. "I would like this to be clear; I will only accept this if you are also content with this decision." He continued as Joanna was silent and pensive. "Before you answer, I will be clear with what you will be faced with; you will not be Lady Stark, you will have no control over the governance of House Stark or the North, you will bear sons and daughters that will bear the name Stark but would serve as bannermen to their elder siblings and you will live in a kingdom you do not know with gods that you do not worship." He declared as he leaned back.

Joanna took a deep breath after a long moment of quiet.

"I accept." She declared, ignoring the surprise of her father and Lord Stark. "To answer your reservations, Lord Stark, I care not for tiles, I have not once desired to rule or govern, I have long feared that my future children would be burdened with the cruel mantle of leadership, and I have much love of learning different cultures." She declared. "I would be beyond honoured to share my life and my future children with a man as respected and noble as you, Lord Stark."

Jon was silent, thoughtful while Daven was grinning like a man possessed, realizing that Lannister blood would be united with the Starks who Daven had no doubt would bring the fall of the Targaryen dynasty sooner rather than later with the rise of the Stark dynasty which the Lannister would be necessary in forging.

"Very well." Jon said grimly, though he gave Joanna a gentle smile as the golden-haired woman flushed slightly at the incredibly handsome older man. It truly was not fair how handsome the Lord of Winterfell was; even looking at his face brought about feelings and desires she never knew she had. "Joanna Lannister will to as a wife is to another lord and her children will be Starks of Winterfell as my elder children are."

Jon grinned roguishly as he offered a hand to the Lannister Lady.

"Welcome to the family, my lady."

Joanna Lannister flushed as he gently kissed her hands, his lips staying on her hand longer than necessary, so long that she was unsure if Lord Stark was ever going to let go but he did as he turned to her father and the two men embraced.

"To family!"

And so, House Lannister and House Stark would soon be joined together as one and all that stood in the path of the Lion and the Wolf would soon learn that debts must be paid, one way or another.