Hello. I know it has been a long while. Lockdown has been difficult for me, mentally as well as physically. The good news is a lastest test shows I am recovering but this is still a condition I will have for life. Lack of access to face-to-face appointments has been rather taxing, even though I have more time to write, I've just not been able to motivate myself. I'm sure some you reading this will be in the same boat, so to speak.

Just to address the comment from the penultimate guest, Jon's behaviour was meant to be childlike. One thing I found when I was in hospital, I was a complete brat! I am someone who normally controls their emotions, seeks fact and understanding and I suppose I like control. Things were completely out of my control with my new diagnosis. My problem is not one I have caused or could have controlled and it really did make me feel like a child again. I wanted somebody to fix it because I couldn't. 'Life is not fair' went through my mind so many times I lost count. All I wanted to do was run away and not confront it. I modelled Jon's reaction on this, because circumstances were completely out of his control and he had not caused them.

This chapter is about taking stock of others outside of Winterfell. Euron is his own warning.

Chapter 21

Cersei was furious. Her idiotic forces had failed her. Her brother had made it to White Harbour and he was now travelling towards Winterfell and the foreign whore they called Queen. Her brothers would soon realise that she had always been the head of their family, after their father, of course. Jamie had no talent for politics and without his right hand, he was a shadow of his former self who could barely win a fight against a child, yet somehow, the great, lumbering and ugly cow of Tarth had ensnared him and Cersei couldn't fathom how. She hoped that 'Brienne the Beauty' would survive in the North as well as her brother, and then they would hear her roar like the lioness she was. Tyrion, as always, was a repulsive little wretch who should have been thrown off the cliffs of Casterly Rock the day he had been born. He killed her mother and was never punished for taking Joanna Lannister away and now he plotted by the Dragon Bitch's side to plot his own sister's downfall. He would feel her wrath as well, even more so than Jamie. Jamie would come back her, she knew it. She knew they were meant to be together, just as they had come into the world together.

Qyburn's spies had recently arrived with knowledge that there had been a disagreement, with a fair bit of shouting, between the Dragon Queen and the wolf bastard. She had laughed heartily at that information and trouble between the Dragon Queen and the North was definitely a good thing for Cersei. As a bastard Jon Snow could never truly be a leader and in his place he had brought the spawn of the man who destroyed the Stark family. Jon Snow really 'knew nothing', that was for sure. She had suspected that the North would not warm to their new queen, the stupid savages were lucky the Lannisters had never ranged North, and she hoped that the divisions remained for the foreseeable future.

While her enemies were busy with the threat to the North she had recruited The Golden Company and their leader Harry Strickland. The Company had set sail a few days ago and soon her Lannister army would be repopulated while her enemies' armies would be depleted with their fight against the dead. The Golden Company had never broken a contract and she was sure that they would remain faithful to her. She hoped the rumours that the company had elephants were true as the majestic creatures would be a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield, as long as she could remove the dragons with Qyburn's scorpions. She knew he was making progress and hoped that more accurate scorpions would soon be available and the dragons would fall.

'Your Grace,' Qyburn's voice interrupted her thoughts as she sipped the glass of wine in her hand.

'Yes,' she replied curtly.

'A raven, from Euron Greyjoy,' he said with no emotion but Cersei was aware that he didn't like the demented squid.

Cersei had already received a raven telling her of The Golden Company's departure so wondered what this one could be about.

'You may go,' she said to Qyburn and he quickly walked out of her chambers and shut the door behind him.

Euron Greyjoy was a man Cersei despised but often the enemy of your enemy was your friend. He was wild and unpredictable but he had his uses, especially his own fleet, more like an armada, at his disposal. She shuddered at the thought of what she would have to do to keep him onside and he would not be as easy to evade as Robert had been.

She opened the raven scroll and started to read.

My beautiful Queen,

I have done as you asked and have acquired The Golden Company, while our enemy is busy in the North. I truly look forward to marrying my Queen on my return, but most of all I look forward to bedding you with my big cock! Our children will be strong and wild. Lion and Kracken, princes and princesses of the land and the sea.

Euron Greyjoy, King of the Iron Islands

Cersei gulped slightly as she read his words. She doubted even Ser Gregor could keep Euron from her chambers when he returned. This was a madman who would have to be appeased, even though the thought of his touch, let alone his 'big cock', was enough to make her want to vomit.

She steeled herself, she was a lioness and while the squid had his uses she would have to tolerate him, but once his usefulness had run its course, he would truly understand the strength of a lioness.

Euron stood on the starboard side of his ship as he watched his fleet, as well as The Golden company's ships, sail across the Narrow Sea. The sound of the waves crashing against the wooden ship was a noise Euron loved to hear. The sea was in his blood and no-one could match him when land was nowhere to be seen. He thought of the raven he sent to Cersei and instantly felt himself harden at the prospect. He would take the woman who thought herself a lion and a Queen and make her into a kitten who would suck his cock whenever he wanted. He wanted the Iron Throne and he would have it, by any means necessary.

He moved below deck to see if one of his many slave girls would be able to help with his needs, as it was much more fun than using his own hands. They were poor girls he had snatched from the streets of Volantis, Pentos and the other cities in Essos, destined to be whores anyway, but he didn't pay them for their 'services'. He saw a young girl and felt his arousal heighten as she wore nothing but a ragged, almost see-through dress. She saw him coming and he saw the fear in her eyes and snatched her arm harshly, making her squeal with pain.

The men who crewed his ship were all mutes, not by nature but because Euron had sliced out their tongues with a red-hot knife. Secrets were better kept that way. Crossing Euron was known to be a fatal error but death would not come quickly when he found out and he did enjoy the pleasures of torturing those men. The girls were not mute, for now, as he enjoyed hearing their pain as he took them forcefully in his cabin. The more they squealed and begged the more he liked it.

After sating his desire, he unceremoniously threw the girl out of his cabin. She staggered like a new born foal as her legs nearly buckled beneath her. Her tear-stained face was red and blotchy as she tried to get away from Euron as quickly as she could.

Euron grabbed her as she tried to escape and forced her in front of him. 'Look at me,' he growled as she slowly lifted her eyes to his. 'You have just been fucked by a king! You should be grateful for such an honour!' he cackled as he pushed her away from him. She stumbled and fell but she managed to stand again and disappeared into the depths of the ship, likely to cry somewhere.

Euron grinned happily at the sight and moved through the ship until he found the room he desired. He opened the door and saw her there, hands tied behind her back around the pole, glaring at him as she always did. Her face was bruised and she had healing cuts all over her face. He knew she also had many bruises that were not currently visible. His niece amused him, the way she tried to show strength when he had her exactly where he wanted her.

'Theon is not coming you know, he was stupid enough to go back to Pyke, I'm sure,' Euron stated as he moved the chair in front of her and sat down. From the angle she was sitting Euron knew she had a good view of his crotch. He knew his niece preferred women to men and so he had let his crew have her, however they wanted her. He had started to wonder if her belly was starting to swell because of her treatment and which man's seed had managed to take root.

'You will betray Cersei and she will betray you,' Yara stated staring back as best she could.

'Well, aren't you clever my dearest niece,' he replied with a sneer. 'Of course, I will win.'

'Till Queen Daenerys burns you alive with her dragons,' Yara smirked back. 'She doesn't need a man like you.'

'Daenerys Targaryen, daughter of the Mad King, will find herself choking on my cock and be glad of it,' he snarled. 'Her little puppy dog will be slowly torn apart, the pain will be excruciating and he will beg for death long before it comes to him.'

Yara laughed, she actually laughed at how deluded her uncle truly was.

'You will never have Daenerys, but should you ever get her in such a position she will bite your cock off and make you a eunuch before tossing you to her dragons,' Yara grinned. 'From what Theon told me, Jon Snow, the White Wolf, would easily defeat a terrified little squid and feed you to his direwolf. I suppose it will depend on which one you meet first. After all, they are far stronger and smarter than you and your big cock will ever be!' Yara felt triumphant as anger flashed across her uncle's eyes.

Euron stormed from the room but returned almost instantly with two of his mute men in tow. Yara saw the men move towards her and pin her head against the pole.

'I've had enough of your words niece,' he said as he unsheathed his knife. Yara's eyes widened as one of the men pulled her mouth open and the other produced some tongs.

'No,' she cried as best she could, as Euron placed the blade in the fire. The blade soon turned a burning red and Euron moved towards Yara. She tried to push and kick to free herself as best she could but to no avail.

Euron's eyes were glinting with glee as he knelt before his niece, just out of range of her kicking legs.

'I hope your last words were satisfying,' he smirked as he lowered the blade and sliced through Yara's tongue.

Theon continued to trudge north as best he could. They had few supplies but had managed to hunt some rabbits and one deer as they continued towards Winterfell, or at least in the direction they thought Winterfell was. Theon still wasn't entirely sure where they were and cursed himself for not listening to Maester Luwin's lessons with more attention. He was also regretting not having thought to find warmer clothes as the chill of the wind passed though him again. His clothes while a ward at Winterfell had always been fit for the weather and were never lower quality than Robb's or Jon's. If anything, Jon's were the slightly lower quality.

Ahead they saw a small village and headed towards it. Theon still had some coin on his person but it wasn't much and he doubted he would be able to pay for rooms for all of them. They may have to sleep in a barn and not an inn but any kind of roof would be welcoming at this point.

Theon realised his folly almost immediately as they made their way into the village. The kracken of House Greyjoy adorned his armour and many of those with him. The kracken was not a welcome sight in the North thanks to the Iron Born reputation and, of course, his own actions at Winterfell.

A large, balding, older man was soon standing before Theon.

'Reavers and rapers are not welcome in the North. Be gone Greyjoy scum,' the man said with obvious disgust. Many of the villagers were now gathering carrying axes and pitchforks, anything to defend themselves.

'We mean you no harm,' Theon said as he raised his hands in surrender, as those travelling with did likewise.

'I know you, you're Theon Greyjoy,' a young man with dark hair said as he then spat at the ground. 'You dare to come back to the North!'

'I am here to help Jon and Lady Sansa!' Theon exclaimed, panicking as the villagers came closer.

'King Jon! How dare you disrespect the King!' the older man said as he pushed towards Theon.

Theon guessed that Jon's ceding of his crown had yet to reach these people and Theon wasn't about to correct them.

'Really! I'm coming to help,' Theon tried to reason but it seemed to no avail as the crowd of villagers drew closer.

'Enough!' a strong and powerful voice disrupted the clamouring crowd. The sound of the horses' hooves had been drowned out by the clamouring of the men and women of the village so the group of twenty-one men who had appeared on horseback was a surprise to all.

The armoured man who had spoken dismounted and he wore a sigil adorned with a black lizard on a grey-green background. The men accompanying him wore the same sigil but had not dismounted as they each held two rider less horses at their sides. Theon's company numbered 40 including himself, he was sure it wasn't a coincidence. He tried to rack his brain to remember which house the sigil represented, and for the second time in quick succession he wished he had paid more attention to Maester Luwin's lessons.

'Lord Greyjoy,' the dismounted man spoke with little tone, but smirked slightly as he saw Theon staring at the sigil he wore. 'You should have listened more in your lessons. House Reed,' he said pointing at the sigil.

'House Reed of...Greywater Watch,' Theon responded and the man smiled and nodded.

'So you did pay some attention,' the man smirked. 'We have come to lead you to Winterfell, but first, I need to know who are you loyal to?'

Theon thought for moment. While he and Yara had initially claimed fealty to Daenerys, he knew in his heart that those he had greatly failed, were the people who would have his loyalty.

'Well?' the man asked impatiently.

'My loyalty is to Lady Sansa and House Stark,' Theon answered as strongly as he could. The villagers began to mutter but Theon paid them no attention.

'Then let's go,' the man said as he turned and mounted his horse. Theon and his men quickly mounted the spare horses, leaving Theon to wonder how these men knew how many men he had with him and where to find them.

Jamie was glad when they made it to the King's Road. The weather had been cold with the occasional snow falling which meant that their progress had not been hindered too much. The main problem Jamie had was the man next to him who wouldn't shut up about the weather.

'Bloody snow,' Bronn grumbled. 'I can't feel my nose or my lips which are all jagged and get worse when I lick them.'

'Well it hasn't stopped your lips working as I can hear you moaning just fine,' Jamie tried to jest but Bronn's glare was enough to show he didn't think it was funny.

Jamie too, was feeling the cold. The reins of his horse were harder to grip with his left hand only and that hand was rather numb. He was also beginning to worry about what would happen when they reached Winterfell.

Their journey through the various villages suggested that Jon Snow was still King in the North, even though Jamie knew Jon had ceded his crown to Daenerys. The villagers showed a lot of pride in their king and Jamie wondered whether there would be a stormy atmosphere at Winterfell, as most of the people Bronn had spoken to seemed to believe that Daenerys was helping and then leaving them alone.

As for their own journey, their reception had been frosty to put it mildly. It was known that they had come to help 'King Jon', but they were still eyed with suspicion and Jamie couldn't blame them for it. Lions were not welcome in the land of the wolves.

He also wondered how he would be received at Winterfell with only a fraction of the Lannister army and whether they would know that Bran Stark was injured by him. If they did know about Bran, he knew he was dead. The only positive of this was that he was likely to be beheaded, rather than burned alive. He did look forward to seeing Brienne again and hoped she wouldn't judge him too harshly for the crimes she wasn't yet aware of.

Edd was worried. The weather was worsening and that meant he couldn't be truly sure that they were still heading in the right direction. He hoped that they hadn't strayed as the road had become smothered in snow and ice and was barely visible. The storms caused his anxiety to flair even more as he remembered the massacres at the Fist of the First Men and Hardhome. Winterfell, hopefully, wasn't too far away now and one the wildlings had managed to warg an owl which seemed to confirm that they were on the right track but still had a distance to travel.

He just hoped they would get to Winterfell as themselves, rather than as the dead enemy. He shuddered at the thought.

Melisandre stared into the flames hoping the Lord of Light would show her the true path. Her time in Volantis was starting to bear fruit as she had been brought back into the inner circle and was no longer being publicly shunned. She had omitted the fact that she had been exiled from the North by Jon Snow as she knew she had to travel back to Westeros, even if it cost her her life. Kinvara had started to listen to her and had been intrigued by Jon Snow, the man Melisandre had brought back from the dead. Both of them felt there was more to the man than they originally thought and a hesitant bond had formed between them. While Kinvara still championed Daenerys, Melisandre would not be swayed from Jon, but she kept that to herself, as questioning the High Priestess would only throw her out of favour again.

The fire crackled as she looked in the depths and she saw a white wolf flanked by smaller wolves, snarling and growling, though she heard no sound. A black dragon soared overhead as blue eyed creatures ran towards the wolf at a terrifying pace. The wolf transformed into a green dragon and the dragons burned them all but the creatures kept coming. A third, white dragon appeared and Winterfell burned bright blue as animals and people ran from it straight into the path of the dead. She saw snapshots of fleeing people, with fire orange and green, running for their lives but the flames were too quick. A lioness tangled in a spider's web and a kracken injured, drowning in the sea as waves washed over it. Blue dominated the scene as white reflected the colour all around. The white dragon snarling and roaring next to the Iron Throne. A glimmer of light in the distance shone but its light started to fade the more Melisandre tried to see it. Then darkness fell.

Melisandre moved away from the fire blinking her disbelief. Was it their fate to lose?

'What did you see?' Kinvara asked as Melisandre nearly backed into her.

'We lost,' Melisandre gasped not believing what she had seen. What was the significance of the wolf transforming into a dragon? She presumed the wolf to be Jon Snow but he was a bastard with Stark blood? Where did the dragon come into it? Fire and wildfire? The glimmer of light had faded and darkness had fallen. The darkness had won and not the light of R'hallor. For the night is dark and full of terrors.

'I think you need to rest,' Kinvara said quietly as Melisandre looked up at her bemused.

'Haven't you seen it?' Melisandre asked, looking at the High Priestess in disbelief. 'Have you not seen our loss, one we must find a way to overcome?'

'I have seen a victorious dragon. Queen Daenerys shall be victorious and take her rightful place on the Iron Throne,' Kinvara said with complete confidence. 'You should rest.'

Melisandre found herself being escorted from the room but before she reached the door a thought occurred to her.

'What colour was the dragon?' she asked.

'White. Purity and light,' Kinvara answered. 'Light banishes the darkness.'

'No!' Melisandre shouted and shook off those escorting her. 'That is the wrong one! That dragon will bring the darkness! That dragon will bring the fall of the light!'

'There is only one dragon, Daenerys Targaryen, the chosen one,' Kinvara smiled sweetly. 'Trust me, sister, all will be well.'

The last thing Melisandre knew was a strange smelling cloth being placed over mouth as she fell unconscious instantly.

The Night King felt his anger stir as he looked at Karhold. The building abandoned rather than full of lives for him to take. He used Viserion's flame to burn the castle to ashes and the dwellings around it. He had hoped to find more lives to take and subsequently raise to bolster his army. He had been created to kill the humans and he would do the job he had been assigned. That twinge that sometimes bothered him when he thought about humans reared its head once more, a life flashed before his eyes, his life. His life as a human. He looked down at his hands and saw only ice and he knew his task wasn't done.

Though he rarely showed himself, he had at Hardhome. The young man with dark, curly hair had slayed one of his lieutenants in front of him. He had needed to get closer to this young man and the weapon he held. The sword which didn't break as it connected with the ice spear. All he knew was that this sword was different though he knew not why. He had heard mentions of Valyrian steel but he didn't know the difference to normal steel.

He had showed the young man his true power and had been pleased to see the shock and terror in the man's eyes, but there was also a look of determination, which troubled the Night King. The old gods had showed him his challenger that day, but why this man, he couldn't be sure.

The Night King could see a semblance of the future within the Weirwood network just as the Three-Eyed raven could. He could only hope the new Three-Eyed Raven had yet to develop his power enough to counter him. He now had the dragon though, which greatly improved his chances of victory. As he had predicted his challenger appeared, once again, beyond the wall and the dragons had come. He had been ready but he had planned to take all three, not just one.

The empty castles were clearly this young man's doing and the Night King wondered what else the young man had prepared as the Army of the Dead started its march to Winterfell.

A/N: I'm aware that some people have teleported slightly but I need to move things on. We will be back at Winterfell for the next chapter which, hopefully, won't take me so long. Thank you for continuing to support this fic by still having interest after all this time. I do appreciate it. Anything major or contradictory, please let me know. :)