So, a late update. Oh well, hopefully you guys enjoy it! Remember to submit some of those Wildlings – I need a couple by chapter 13, so quick as you like.

A belated Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone! Guess what? It's actually my 24th Birthday tomorrow… yeah, that's scary…

Anyhoo, here is the last chapter in Braavos. Just wanted to thank everyone for sticking with me through this. I know there are some people who kinda flaked as soon as I stopped the daily updates, but it helps to know some of ya are still sticking around.

Finn Snow – The Roof of the Princess, The Drowned Town, Braavos

I couldn't remember the last time I'd laughed that much. Derrick Redbear had a way of making everyone around him forget their troubles. It didn't take more than a drop of rum before he started reminding us of when Mikko didn't know a word of the common tongue.

"He…" Ser Derrick laughed, "he kept pointing at the body and grunting in Dothraki!"

"I remember," I turned to Mikko, "what were you trying to say?"

"I was asking why he tried to hit me." Mikko mumbled, going a little red.

"We all thought you were 'bout to eat him!" Ser Derrick slapped Mikko on the shoulder. The chuckles died down as we began to think back to the days Mikko and I served in the Second Sons. "What happened after that…"

"Mereen," Mikko said quietly.

Derrick's face shifted into stone as he nodded, licking his lips as they broke their smile into a slow frown. "Aye…" He took a gulp. "Poor sods."

I stood up, walking to the edge of the rooftop and looking out across Braavos. In the distance, I could see the fat-bellied carrack waiting. The windows illuminated and the sails furled. The Second Sons were stowed away in there – all five hundred of them. It wasn't much of an army, but Cerwyn had assured me that House Mormont held the better half of a thousand men, if the Boltons hadn't broken them yet. With Cerwyn's forces, that put us a little under two thousand.

House Karstark would join us, I was sure of it. For what little that was worth. A hundred men, most likely, if the war had been as constant as Cerwyn and Evie had told me. I felt bad for not telling Mikko to stay. I knew he wouldn't listen to me – our paths were one and the same, but it was selfish to let him fight another war. Especially one on the other side of the known world.

"You ever stopped to count?"

I turned to face Derrick. "Count what?"

"How many we killed in Mereen?"

"Of course I did…" I turned back to face the horizon.

"No, I mean the three of us." Derrick took a swig from the rum, passing it to Mikko, "I myself killed three hundred and fifty…two…no, fifty-three." I raised an inquisitive eyebrow, "Twins," Derrick shrugged.

"One hundred and… something. Seventy?"

Derrick let out a whistle, "Lost your sword for half the battle, didn't you?" Mikko nodded in response. "Your turn, Snow. How many men did you kill?"

"Two hundred-odd. Give or take."

"I'm sure it was more than that…" Mikko frowned, offering me the bottle. I took it from his hand.

"Not the men." I took a large gulp, trying to forget the bodies that we stacked in the labyrinth of the streets, blocking the routes and penning in the insurrection. The collars and chains littered the street with body parts and crudely fashioned weapons that would snap beneath ours. I remembered receiving my purse, my bloodied hands soaking the cotton fabric that held my share of the Slavemasters' jewels.

"I think we're in need of more rum," Ser Derrick handed the empty bottle to Mikko.

"Me?"

"I'm already supplying an army, you'd have me get the drink as well?"

Mikko let out a small chuckle as he took the bottle and began a wobbling walk down the small wooden hatch and into the Princess below us. I leant against the wooden railing that had been hammered into the blushed tiles of the domed roof, looking out amongst the rest of the Drowned Town. It was darker than usual, with a heavy fog rolling through the town.

"I still get the dreams sometimes," Ser Derrick said quietly, rubbing a thumb against his crystal cup, "about Mereen." He took a heavy breath and pushed himself off the ground. "You know?"

I knew all too well what he was talking about. Slipping into the endless tides of blood, the elephants from Astapor raging through the city walls to crush the insurrection, killing Second Sons as well as slaves.

"No," I shook my head, "I can't remember it at all…" I turned around to face Derrick, but I found myself looking at something beside him. It was miniscule – barely bigger than my hand. A small winged creature, it's scales white freckled like snowdrops. Eyes all dark and strange like rubies. It let out small, weak squawks as Derrick turned to face it.

"Seven Hells, Snow… tell me you see this too," He hissed to me.

"I see it," I assured him, taking several steps towards it, and stretching out a hand. It was amazing – beautiful. Like nothing that existed in this world. I'd heard the tales of the Targaryen dragons, but to truly see a wild dragon… it was beyond words. The dragonling stretched out it's ashen wings, the scales tinged like black ash around the horns. It let out a hiss, glaring its red eyes at my fingertips.

"Snow, I wouldn't do that…"

"Redbear, it's tiny."

"It's a dragon."

I rolled my eyes and stretched out a hand further, and gently laid it in front of the dragonling. It leant its white snout downwards, sniffing my hand before placing a small talon on it, craning its long neck to glance at Derrick. I smiled as the dragonling stepped on my palm fully, wrapping a horned tail around my wrist as I moved it closer to my face.

"Snow…"

"It's alright," I couldn't take my eyes off the small creature that began sniffing me intensely. "It's not going to hurt me." The dragonling let out some soft squawks as it moved its growing talons up my forearm. It pinched, but I knew the dragonling couldn't have meant it.

In a flash, the talons clenched into my arm and the head jerked to the direction of the Long Canal. The dragonling screeched and soared away from me. I took a few steps towards the railing, leaning over it and seeing that there was no fog. There was smoke. I could hear the marches and shouting, and the unmistakable light of fires.

"What in all the Gods of Fire and Fuck…?"

Helesa Irinos – The Princess, The Drowned Town, Braavos

"What is it like?" I placed a glass of rum in front of a tentative Evie, "Back in the North?"

Evie took a sip of the spiced rum and cocked her head to the side. "Damp. Cold… big. Everyone fights everyone and they don't like outsiders."

I nodded, "Yet you will go back."

"Home never stops being home."

I nodded. After my mother had died when I was young, I couldn't bring myself to leave Braavos. I suppose this was for the same reason Evie now sought to return home.

"I shall miss you, Evie Stark," I raised my glass, "a woman who seeks reclaim her brother's throne…"

"It's not a throne," Evie replied, "It's- it used to be a throne but… now it's different."

I nodded, "If you say so."

Evie frowned, "Aren't you coming with us?"

I let out a small chuckle, "And why, dear girl, would I do that?"

"Well, you're Finn's… friend."

"Friend?" I raised an eyebrow as I finished my rum. "It was never easy with him. Men are complicated, as are women. But a man like Finn and a woman like myself…" She smiled, "A Bravo and a Courtesan. Such things cannot last."

Before Evie could say another word, the domed roof that we drank inside exploded. Cascades of rock crumbled past us with surges of fire and smoke. Teeming shouts and cries sounded outside.

"Stay here," I cried to Evie as I ran towards the hole in the wall. I looked out and, through the white smoke, saw crowds of men in heavy brass armour and light blue robes beneath them; Guards of the Iron Bank. Long halberds and hefty tall shields. They walked down the narrow walkway – the only water shallow enough to wade through.

I turned back to Evie, "Find Finn-" A hand grabbed my throat, as a helmed man pushed me further inside, a sword in his other hand.

"Skoriot iksis īlva drōmon?" The man growled behind his helm. Another soldier entered through the breach, tipping over the table to grab Evie, who attempted to wrestle the man away. I swept my hand under my dress and removed my dagger, sticking it through the visor of my captor's helm. He let out a shriek and collapsed backwards. I ran towards the other man, who thrust his shield into my chest, knocking me to the ground. He let out a tin chortle and brought his shield down upon my leg with a crack.

"M'ach!" The harsh grunting noise of Dothraki came from above. As my assailant looked up with Evie and I, a hulking silhouette swept down from the shadows of the stairs, an arakh in one hand as he brought it down, cleaving the man's head in two. Mikko looked up to the next figure through the hole, and bounded forwards, kicking his shield with such force that the soldier fell back through the breach.

"Lēkia!" Mikko bawled as he took a knife from his belt and threw it at the next man. I looked back to the stairs, where Finn and his sellsword companion stood. Finn vaulted over the railing, rushing to Evie and picking her up.

"Get her to the ship," Finn instructed him, "tell them to get ready to cast off…" Finn's eyes fell on me and my leg. He scrambled towards me, a hands sweeping behind my head. And through the hazes of pain, I saw his shaking hand reach out towards my leg, but not actually touch it. "You're alright…" He muttered, looking around to the onslaught of men coming towards Mikko. "Mikko!"

"Get them on the ship!" Mikko shouted, slicing a man's swordarm off.

"Mikko…"

"Valar morghulis, lēkia!"

Finn nodded and wrapped my arm around his neck, holding my waist and dragged me. I cried out and cursed from the pain in my leg, and Finn pulled on my arm. "Put your weight on me…"

We walked out of the back, where a small, rotting dinghy bobbed. He dropped me inside, looking around to make sure no-one was following us. "We," I coughed, "we have to wait for Mikko…"

"He can look after himself," Finn assured me, hopping into the dinghy and pushing off from the building, rowing us towards the purple harbour. "Helesa?" I heard his voice echo as my vision began to darken. "Helesa!"

I felt a sharp sting on my cheek, making my eyes snap open. Finn stood there, rubbing a red hand. "Vaoreznuni." Finn grabbed my arm and pulled me up, stepping onto the pierhead with me. The carrack sat ready, with only a handful of the city watch there. Derrick the Sellsword was standing aboard with a number of his men, all firing volleys of arrows upon them.

"It hurts…" I grabbed my leg, hissing out my breath so I would not cry.

"Just a bit further."

"I need to rest. My leg…"

"I'm not leaving you, damn it!" He swept an arm under my leg and lifted me up, carrying me down the dock. I looked down at my leg, the bone peeking out from under the skin, the dark blood coating my shins.

"I'm not getting on that ship, Finn Snow," I stated.

"Shut up, I ain't leaving you," Finn huffed as he walked further down the wooden dock, "not a chance… not a bloody chance…"

"Please, Finn." I reached a hand up to hold his sharp cheek, sodden with sweat. I searched his dark eyes. "Please."

Finn nodded and set me down against a trio of fish barrels.

"Finn," Derrick's voice bawled from the ship, "we have to cast off…"

"A moment!" Finn shouted back.

"Don't you tarry on my behalf," I let my eyes close again. "Go."

"Don't be daft." Finn glanced down the dock. "We just need to get you on the ship…" Finn clenched his jaw. "Don't be such a pain in the arse, we'll miss the ship if you keep this up!" Finn tried to chuckle. I thought back to his heist, to his time serving the Sealord of Braavos… every attempt we'd made for more gold. All that time we'd never realized we'd had together.

"We never should have strived for riches," I smiled, "we could have been happy."

"We will," Finn nodded, "If you come with me, we will." My eyelids became too heavy. Far too heavy. "Helesa!"

"I would've come with you, Finn Snow." I let out in a groggy murmur. "I would."

Finn Snow – The Purple Harbour, Braavos

I wasn't going to leave her. Not a damned chance. I grabbed her arm and wrapped it around my neck, dipping my arms beneath her and pulling her up. She gave a slight frown as I did so. She was still there.

I heard shouts in Valyrian behind me. The damned guards. I mustered what little energy I had left and ran up the gangplank and onto the deck. The Second Sons loosed another volley of arrows as the ship's crew began bustling about to disembark.

"Weigh anchor!" Ser Derrick shouted.

I looked up to find no-one was working the anchor wheel. I ran over and grabbed one of the spokes, pushing all my weight against it with a groan. The Second Sons kept on launching volleys, a few of them tugging down the main sails. I tried to dig the pads of my feet into the deck and lean against the spoke, when it suddenly began to turn slightly more slickly. I looked to my side and saw Evie there, her head barely above the spoke as she let out a grunt, tripping over her dress and she began to weigh anchor with me.

The archers parted and a blood-covered Mikko came aboard, looking about.

"Lēkia!" I called over to him. He crossed the deck and grabbed another spoke, pushing harder than Evie and I could have. I turned to Derrick. "Anchor aweigh!"

Derrick nodded, running to the helmsman who spun the steering gear. We were under way, leaving Braavos with the flaming arrows plunging into our hull until we were far enough away.

I looked back to Helesa, who began to open her eyes again, looking around at the masses of men. But as I walked towards her, Derrick called out to me.

"Snow, what about the Arsenal?"

I looked towards the red citedal on a lone island. That and the Titan of Braavos were the only things standing in our way. The Arsenal was a fortress equipped with trebuchets, scorpions and spitfires. Its very purpose was to protect Braavos from an attack from the sea. There was no way past it that was safe from fire.

"We've got no choice."

Ser Derrick nodded. "Archers-"

"No!" I shouted up to him, "We can't fight them! Our best chance is to sail past as quick as we can."

"You'd have my men cower behind their shields?"

"This isn't the war we're fighting, Redbear."

Ser Derrick licked his lips, looking towards the Arsenal before nodding. "Donnano! Lazos! Vario! Loose all sails!"

I turned around to see a man in front of me impaled with a yard-long iron-headed shaft that launched him overboard. "Scorpions!" I shouted, falling to the deck and grabbing onto a line to stay aboard.

At the forecastle of the ship, I saw Mikko holding Evie in the corner, a line wrapped around his hand. Another shaft soared past me, and I ran forwards, ducking behind the mast as another sailor fell to the deck, his skull splitting open on the wood. I held out a hand for Evie, trying to shout over the other men on the ship.

A flaming bronze ball was flung across the rear of the ship, missing our sails and splashing into the sea in a cloud of steam. At the helm, stood Ser Derrick, helping the helmsman steer us towards the Titan of Braavos.

I held onto the railing as my legs were lifted up into the air with the rocking of the ship. I fell up the stairs and next to the helm, helped up by Ser Derrick.

"How are we getting past that?" I asked Ser Derrick, pointing at the stone and bronze Titan.

"We'll have to brace," Ser Derrick shouted back to me.

"What about the ship?"

"As long as it still floats, that's what matters!" He replied. I nodded, and made my way down the stairs to find Helesa, who was leaning against the mast, covered in blood and water. I knelt down and wiped the blood from her face. I watched the man raise their shields as we came closer to the Titan. I swept up Helesa and ran towards the captain's cabin, slipping and falling onto the stairs with her.

Flaming rocks tumbled off shields and fell onto the deck or the sea beside us. Arrows clanged against the metal shields or sliced through the sails. We had almost passed beneath the Titan fully when a stream of fire tumbled down, collapsing on men who dived overboard with screams of terror. I'd heard myths of the Titan's wrath – the burning pitch that fell upon his foes but had never witnessed it.

And then, the arrows seemed to fade away. All that we could hear was the thundering roar of the Titan, cursing us in our battered and burning ship as we sailed away from Braavos.

I looked down to Helesa in my hands, seeing her look up past me, gazing into the stars above.

"This will make such a song…" She croaked.

"Don't you talk like that-"

"Don't cry, Finn Snow," She nestled into my arms, "the hero never cries in the songs." She almost looked like she was going to sleep. "The Bastard and His Whore…" she smiled.

And then she just… stopped.

I held the shell of her body close to me, my arms wound around her as if I was struggling to keep that last breath of hers with me. I kept looking into those violet eyes, hoping I could find one part of her in there.

But I could not.

Well… that's the chapter. Goodbye Braavos. I kinda wanted to write more, but I decided to only write what was necessary for the chapter. Anyhoo… read and review, lemme know what you think.

The next chapter is called 'Vengeance' and is set in King's Landing and Dorne. The upload won't be for a week or so because… well, coursework. But, enjoy this chapter and stay tuned for more!

P.S. Some Wildlings please!