Sorry for the long wait. The scenes were just not cooperating with me, and then I got a bad cough that made me doing pretty much anything that required thought a bad idea. It's still here, but it's going away slowly but surely now. Hopefully, I'll manage to keep to the schedule moving forward now.

The tower had indeed made it to the height of the wall. Its structure was twice as thick as the old towers. And seemingly impossible for a mere catapult stone to tear trough. But he was not sure how it'd stand up to a trebuchet.

Though, Marlon's focus was mostly on the actual towers of the walls. The named towers were more like small keeps within the main courtyard. Though holdable. That was never their main purpose. Their purpose was to be a place to stay while there.

Jon's men were ready to leave, but Jon was not. He'd packed everything he found. The bow, the arrows, and the sword. But he could not find the serving girl. The more he thought about it, he hadn't seen her since the night they arrived. He'd barely caught sight of her at supper that night.

According to those on guard duty that night, they'd neither seen or heard anyone leave the castle in either direction. He didn't like the idea of losing someone under his command, especially not a non-combatant.

"I suppose we'll be leaving now." Jon says uncomfortably to Marlon.

"Don't you worry. We'll figure it out. The castle's not that big. Well, it is. But not the main castle here. She shouldn't have been able to leave it. We'll find her before you return to Winterfell. I'm sure of it."

"I hope you're right." Jon says as he mounts his horse.

But, as he was about to give the order to leave he heard a call from the Southern wall.

"Two riders approaching. One in blue armour and the other in Lannister squire's attire!"

It couldn't be. Could it?

Before Jon knew it he had dismounted and ran for the southern wall. First, he had to run trough the main courtyard and then out into the unruly plains that were between the two walls. As he reached the wall he heard Brienne speak.

"I am Brienne of Tarth, sworn shield to Sansa Stark. This is my squire, Podrick."

"And why is your squire wearing traditional Lannister squire attire?" The guard questions.

"Let them through." Jon yells out to the guards.

In a few short moments, the gate's been opened and the lady-knight and her squire are let through without further issue.

"What're you doing here? Where's Sansa?" Brienne immediately questions as they start the journey to the main courtyard.

"She's safe, she's in Winterfell under the watchful eyes of Ghost, and Nestor Royce. They'll keep her safe."

"Safe from Baelish? Doubtful. That man will put his claws into her, and this time, he won't let go." Brienne tells him as Marlon arrives with his horse. It was foolish of him to make that run, it was first when he saw the southern gate open that he realised it was the actual southern wall.

"I find that difficult to believe, as I executed him about a fortnight ago."

"On what grounds?" Brienne asks "The Lords of the Vale won't sit idly by as one of their Lords are murdered."

"On the grounds of conspiracy, the murder of the Lady of the Vale as well as many other things. It was all approved of." Jon tells her as he mounts his horse once again.

"Alright then." Brienne says as they enter the courtyard.

"So, do we set off now, or shall we wait till morrow?" Jon questions as he notices their fatigue.

"We'll take a meal, we can set off after." Brienne says, though her tone seems questioning.

"It's fine. I doubt it will make too much of a difference." Jon says as calmly as he could.

He notices, rather belatedly, her discomfort at that. He'll have to hear the story behind that at a later time. For now, he's just glad that Sansa's actual sworn shield is back. That would be a reason to not be allowed entry to her chambers, right?

Tyrion has to say that seeing the Dothraki, and the quarter of their remaining Unsullied forces departing from their ships was, quite the sight to see. Though, he was weary of the Dothraki. They could serve a purpose, excellent as outriders, but he doubted their loyalty. They were worse than sell swords in his eyes. Except for Bronn, he was good, he just didn't know another way of life. Nor did he have the diligence to learn it.

He'd put some of the more trusted Unsullied captain's there, to make sure things ran smoothly. He'd manage to keep the naval landing going with the aid of the Greyjoy siblings.

"Well, this is where I leave, I'm afraid." He heard Varys say.

"Oh?"

"I received a message, there is something I need to take a look at myself. Do take care until I return." Varys says.

"As much as a dwarf can while besieging a town from the sea can." Tyrion japes. But he has neither Bronn, Podrick nor the Mountain clansmen to watch out for him now.

As soon as the row boat that Varys used to get to land was back, they left the shore. And continued their journey towards Gulltown.

They would most likely arrive a day or two before those on land, but it would not be wise for them to be seen earlier than the night before the siege. That way, no reinforcement can arrive. Even though he hardly thinks there are any to be had.

They had spent the last few days skirting around Winterfell. Luckily, missing all of the patrols that were there.

It was closing in on night, or so they assumed as a snow storm had hit them shortly after Winterfell had disappeared in the distance. But, either way. They had to take shelter under a soldier pine, lest they'll be buried under the snow and not wake again.

"We'll be alright, Bran." Meera tells Bran as she ties the horse to a tree. She hurriedly takes off the saddle bags and places down the furs at a tree below the one the horse is tied too.

"I know." Bran tells her as she helps him down. He'd seen it, in one of the visions he had. He was the Lord of Winterfell, but Jon was King. He could not tell who the two that was beside him was, but one of them was rather familiar. He wished he could figure out who it was. It wasn't even what he tried to get a vision of, he wanted to see the Tourney of Harrenhall he should get the information he needed there.

"Do you think, we'll be alright?" She questions as they huddle together next to the tree.

"We will be, we will find your father and then we'll figure out what to do next." Bran says softly.

Meera is such a weird girl, yet such a calming influence, Bran wonders how things had panned out if they'd met before. Would he have stopped climbing?

Doubtful, but he hoped that would have happened. That in some time-stream, they'd met and he'd stopped being so reckless.

Sansa had been outside in the Godswood when the snow storm hit. It was rather unexpected. Seemingly coming out of nowhere. Or so, the Maester said. She was not sure if she could trust him. She certainly didn't trust him more than she did the Wildling Healers.

But as she looked out into the storm, she couldn't help but think it was purely natural. Chaotic, as Father used to say it was. She did not think she could recall a snow storm before. She'd seen snow, even played with it when she was young before she learned what 'Bastard' meant.

But she'd never seen a storm. It was chaotic, but there seemed to be a beauty to it as well. Untamed wind and snow. Blowing in every direction at once. She was sure she could watch it all night long. But she couldn't, she had to take care of a few matters early on the morrow, lest she does not take care of her family's obligations.

She managed to get out of her evening dress without much fuss. Her hair she'd done shortly before she'd been brought her evening meal.

Her dress off, she got rid of her stockings and undergarments. Though her evening dress and robe was easily laid next to her bed so that she could dress to answer the door, if she needed to.

It has been a few days, and Jon has come just north of the crossroad of the Kings Road and the White Road.

So far, no issue. But now, Brienne and Podrick's returned to camp with a third horse. And on it was what seemed to be two people, dressed as Wildlings. All fur.

"Jon!" he heard an elated voice say, before he did more than take a single step towards them.

Bran? Was that Bran?

Hurrying over, Jon found it to be true. His baby brother was alive.

"It's good to see you, Bran." Jon said slowly as he grasped his forearm.

"It's good to see you too, Jon." Bran said with a tired smile.

Jon looks over to the girl. So this was Meera Reed then.

"Thank you, for looking after him." Jon told her.

She simply looked knackered. Her eyes were drooping, even now.

"Brienne, help her to my tent." Jon tells the lady warrior, while he pulled Bran into his own arms.

"What are you doing Jon?" Bran asks.

"The two of you're tired, Bran. You need to rest properly for a night before we continue."

"Where are you going?" Bran asks.

"Home. We're going Home, Bran."

She was neither Arry, Arya, Nan, Cat of the Canals, or Isa of Wintertown now.

Now she was Bella of Seagard. Nymeria and her wolves were patrolling the Eastern side of the river. But for now, Bella had to finish making the pie.

It was rather repugnant. Making a pie of people. But, she'd had worse tasks. The worst part was waiting for them to cook. Whoever would work in these kitchens in the days and weeks from now, would not be able to rely on their sense of smell. If there was ever a time Bella disliked her Wolves-bond. Then it was now, she had a feeling even without it she'd be able to smell this.

By the time the pie was done, the feast was coming to a close. And luckily, she could not smell burnt flesh anymore. Or maybe she just spent too much time in the kitchen to tell the difference.

Finding them alone in the preperation of the feast was easy enough. Killing them, easier still. Taking them apart to make a pie, not so much. Yet, now it was all over. She just had to give it to Lord Frey. And then, he and the rest of his sons and grandsons would eat their fill of their son, and brothers and uncles.

She'd heard about the plan for the siege. And this would be the perfect way to help them. Without giving any sign that she'd been here.

Inside the hall. The same hall that her mother and brother had died in. The same hall that they had destroyed her brother's body in.

She placed the pie at the head table. Where Lord Frey, and the two men who'd so generously offered to be part of her pie should have sat.

"Here's the pie, mi'lord." Bella said meekly as she set down the tray. Quite large, most likely would have required two people to carry out. But she was stronger than most kitchen wenches. Definitely more balanced.

"Good. Good, now cut me a piece." The man said shortly as he gushed down what remained in his cup. His beady eyes scanning the room again. They had done so rather often tonight.

Quickly she got to it, and served him a slice. Before long, she had served most of the Frey's that was left in the hall. Each and everyone of them eating quickly. As if it was the best meal they'd ever had. If they only knew.

Before the hour was out, she'd fed all of them twice. Lord Frey had taken three slices. His brood left shortly after. But Lord Frey was apparently not a man to let food be wasted. So he'd decided to finish up the pie. They'd barely eaten half of it so far.

"Fetch me some more wine, girl. Then join me." He told her. This could be her chance to leave. But it was also a chance to take out the main orchestrator of her family's ruin. The chance was too good to let go of.

"Yes, Mi'lord." She said as she left the hall.

In the kitchen she found her satchel and took out a dagger and hid it between her dress and her bodice.

Hurriedly she ventured into the wine cellar and found a bottle of wine, similar to the ones that were served earlier in the night.

On her way back to the hall, she braced herself. Knowing that the lecherous lord would try to get her in his bed.

As she got back and refilled his cup, he asked for another slice. How a man who ate so much could be so skinny was beyond her. But he was.

He'd barely grabbed her ass twice before she dropped her persona and held him at dagger point. Dragging off her face and revealing herself to him.

"My name is Arya Stark. I want you to know that the last thing you're ever going to see, is a Stark smiling down at you as you die."

Before the old fool could move, she'd already cut his throat. And for good measure, she stabbed him twice. Once in the stomach, and once in the heart.

"The Starks, send their regards!" She hissed before she left.

Bella came upon a guard as she left the hall, she hadn't put away her dagger. She quickly cut his forearm, then his neck. Leaving him to bleed out in the hallway.

Now it was just to get her satchel, and leave. There would be few guards on patrol yet. As most of the men was still travelling back from Riverun. She'd wished to see it, but now it was not even owned by Arya's family. It was another seat of House Frey now.

In the kitchen, Bella changed clothes to what she'd worn on the journey south. Changed to Isa of Wintertown she put the satchel on her back and started her journey out of the castle. It took a while, but it was not dangerous. The guard patrols were ridiculously easy to predict. Arya's Father would not have been kind to guards that were that easy to predict. Correction, he would not be kind to the Captain of the Guard that gave them so easily predictable patrols.

Out of the castle, she found the pack and joined them, as they started heading North she heard the bells being rung. They'd found the bodies.

So, things happened. Yay!