This is one of the chapters that I've been most excited to write ever since I finalised the plan for this story. This, Chapter 47 and Chapter 53 in particular I'm really excited to post.

I do want to shout out Silver crow who gave me the idea for one of these scenes way back in his review for Chapter 19. I may have the overall plot worked out but if reviewers have ideas that I like and can work into the story somehow then I'll include them.

We now enter the timeline of Season 6, but I think that only really matters for the story at the Wall and beyond. Even the Ironborn are on a new timeline as you will see here...

I am borrowing aspects of Westeroscraft's version of Lannisport as well as from the awoiaf-rp wiki page for the Sept of the Faithful. I can't post the full links here because FFN doesn't like that, but you can check them out through google I am sure.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I own nothing but the OC's.

305 AC

It had taken a number of days for Loren to be able to sit down with Myrcella after his arrival given the situation that the crown found themselves in mixed with some half-hearted celebrations for the turn of the year, but finally they managed to arrange to sit and have breakfast with one another. Initially they spoke about how Myrcella found Dorne and how Loren felt knowing that he was a Father now, but very quickly the small talk made way for the topic of conversation that was on everybody's lips. Tyland's murder.

"It seems he made a lot of enemies in his year as Hand." Loren noted.

Myrcella shrugged as she sipped her drink. "He made lots of enemies over the course of his life, everything was just bigger in his time as Hand."

Loren nodded, cutting into his toasted bread. "And you truly believe that the bastard did this?"

"I do." Myrcella sighed. "I wish I didn't, but she has always had a personal hatred for our family for as long as Trystane has known her. It is surely no coincidence that it happened when we arrived." Loren wasn't too sure, and the thought process was written clearly on his face. "You disagree?" Myrcella asked.

"I'm not sure." Loren admitted. "I don't know her so I trust you on her stance against us, but there are lots of things that we could be missing by blindly focusing on Obara Sand." Even with what he was saying, the name felt dirty on his tongue. "Trystane told you that they had nothing to do with this?"

Myrcella shook her head. "He claims the charges as Lannister lies, but doesn't offer us any reason to believe that they are all innocent." She told him. "But who else would want your Father dead?"

Loren shrugged. "Who didn't?"

The Princess placed her hand to her temple, rubbing it in thought. "If Trystane is right… then what should we do?"

"We follow the laws." Loren answered quickly. "She will be tried, and if she is guilty then she will die. If she is innocent then we will find the true culprit." Loren finished his meal and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. "If you will excuse me, Princess, I must train before the Small Council meeting this afternoon."

Myrcella nodded, standing up at the same time as her cousin and watching him leave. As the Princess sat down again her thoughts began to turn to who else would want Tyland dead enough to actually go through with it, and her mind instantly turned to a conversation that she had had with Tommen recently, about a moment where her Mother had drunkenly threatened to murder their baby cousin in order to hurt Tyland.

As one problem is dealt with, in the life of a ruler it was rare that another issue didn't crop up almost immediately afterwards. The Harpies had been routed out with the collaboration of the Unsullied and the Storm's End men and it had been discovered during the investigation that external funding from Volantis for Daenerys' future husband had been the cause of the terrorists. Thankfully, Tyrion had stood at the top of the Great Pyramid for days looking down at a still smouldering pyre where hundreds of Harpies had burned at once, highborn and lowborn.

Still, another issue had arisen and when the charred bones of Hizdahr had been sent to Volantis with a letter explaining that his deception had been discovered, Volantis had responded with an armada. The docks of Meereen had been blockaded and rumours of an incoming army built from men of New Ghis, Astapor and Yunkai had spread to Meereen, meaning that very soon they would be surrounded with no way of escape. Thankfully for Tyrion however, this impending doom hadn't stopped the wine from flowing smoothly.

The council of the Dragon Queen had gathered to discuss their options, but the Lannister dwarf didn't hold out much hope. They didn't have enough ships to make Ser Davos' suggestion of night attacks worthwhile and they didn't have the numbers to make a difference in a land battle. Their only hope of avoiding a siege was the dragons, but Daenerys seemed reluctant to use them.

"They are unruly." She complained. "I cannot control them. I will not risk my people."

"You risk them more by not using them." Tyrion insisted. "The men sailing the ships of that fleet out there will not be kind to those that support you. Rapes will be plentiful, killings even more so."

Dany looked at the Imp sharply. "So what am I to do?" She snapped. "I don't even know where Drogon is."

Tyrion wanted to tell her that there were two other dragons locked up within the city walls, but he had read enough of Septon Barth's writings on King Jaehaerys and his family to understand dragonlore didn't work like that. "Leave us." He told the rest of the room.

Daario Naharis actually laughed allowed. "You do not command us, dwarf." He chuckled.

Daenerys though could see that Tyrion was thinking something. "Do as he says." She added, an intrigued tone to her voice. Ser Davos and Missandei were quick about leaving, while Daario kept stopping and making sure that it was what Daenerys wanted. He did eventually leave however, and Daenerys turned to Tyrion. "What is so important that it can only be shared between the two of us?" She asked.

Tyrion nodded, rising to his feet and pacing. "I always wanted a dragon as a child." He began. "Look at me, why wouldn't I have wanted a beast to burn those that laughed at me, to allow me to fly taller than them all. I even asked one of my Uncles for a dragon when he asked which gift I would like for my nameday one year. Of course, I am a Lannister and dragons were extinct, but that didn't stop me from reading all I could about them, and one very interesting source of information is an extremely rare book in the Red Keep written by Septon Barth."

"Who?" Daenerys asked.

Looking gobsmacked at her lack of historical knowledge, Tyrion explained. "Hand of the King to your ancestor, King Jaehaerys the First. He witnessed the death of Aerea Targaryen after the girl had flown Balerion into Valyria, a horrid, painful death by all accounts, but it implored him to write about the unnatural abilities of the Dragons, and he hints at the reason that your ancestors could control them."

"How?" Daenerys asked, ignoring the latest impact of a missile being launched at the Great Pyramid as she looked upon Tyrion with sheer concentration at the history lesson.

"It's in your mind." Tyrion grinned. "You have a link to the Dragon that chose you, Your Grace. You must tap into that somehow, Barth did not or could not go into details as he couldn't give it all away for just anybody to tame a dragon, but he said enough between the lines. Somewhere in your mind you can feel Drogon, and you can call upon him."

Daenerys sighed. "I have tried." She explained. "I cannot."

"We shall see." Tyrion muttered. He waited for a moment expecting another missile to hit, but nothing shook. "That's odd." He said to himself, and he waddled over towards Daenerys' balcony. He had to take a stool to stand on to see over the barrier, but what he did see horrified him even more than Volantene ships.

The Greyjoy Kraken. He had seen it once before as a man barely of age bearing down on Lannisport. He had seen the destruction caused by their weapons, the slaughter caused by their sadistic minds and he could still hear the screams of the wounded after the burning of the Lannister fleet.

"House Greyjoy?" Daenerys asked from behind him. "What are they doing here?"

Tyrion could guess the answer to that too. "Presumably exactly the same as what I am doing here, Your Grace." He said darkly as the Greyjoy ships and the Volantene ships locked into a naval battle off the coast of Meereen. "Seeking an alliance with you."

Daenerys didn't have the reservations that Tyrion did, all she could see was the ships now on her side. "Is that enough for us?"

Sighing, Tyrion counted. "It will be tight, but possibly. If we can take a number of Volantene ships for ourselves too."

Grinning, Dany was silent for a moment. "Then they need me too, to ensure an early surrender." She muttered. She closed her eyes for a moment and focused, but that worried Tyrion even more as he realised what she was planning.

"All of this will be for nothing if you die!" He exclaimed. "You have no experience in flight, no experience in battle! You don't even have a saddle or know if the dragon will hear you…" A roar cut him off and made him cover his eyes and duck. An ear shattering, terrible screech from above that made way to an unnaturally warm blast of air, and when Tyrion opened up his eyes he could see a real dragon flying above them. All of his previous worries forgotten, he stared in awe as the dragon circled the apex of the Great Pyramid and landed on the edge of the balcony, bending its neck down for Daenerys to mount. "Your Grace…"

"It's alright." Daenerys said, her voice sounded distant however, as if she was in a trance. "I know what I am to do. I do not need a saddle, I do not need battle experience. All I need, is Drogon." She said, clinging onto the dragons back spikes. "Sōvēs."

With the single command, Drogon flapped its wings and soared high into the sky, leaving Tyrion standing there helpless as he watched the Dragon Queen raced towards the ongoing battle.

Snow was falling steadily in the air as the Lion's Pride pulled into the harbour. A pair of women, each with their faces shrouded in hoods stood on the deck looking out as they passed the abandoned First Men stones of Seal Rock. They were headed towards the Inner Harbour, being escorted by a pair of smaller ships.

"Take Artos." The taller of the pair said quietly, adjusting the hood and cloak covering her light grey dress. The smaller did as she was asked and took the bundle of cloths in her arms, the contrast of the baby and the snow against her black dress creating a stunning image. As the ship pulled into the harbour, scores of turquoise-coloured guards were lined up, waiting for the Lannister ship. Sansa Stark waited until the ship ground to a halt before she moved towards the dock. She led Mira and the ten Lannister guards off of the ship, listening as Ser Jasper gave orders to the ship's crew.

A slim, blonde woman dressed in a dark grey dress was leading the guards on the docks, and she immediately walked up to Sansa, stopping a few feet away. She was smaller than Sansa, but she portrayed an air of confidence that many Lords failed to have. "A Lannister ship in Northern waters is a bold move, My Lady." The woman said curtly. "You must either be incredibly brave or foolish."

"My son is the Lord of Winterfell." Sansa explained, equally as coldly. "He should be raised in the castle he is to rule, Lady Wynafred."

Wynafred Manderly turned her nose up distastefully, not reacting to the fact that Sansa knew her by name. "We will see." She responded. "My Grandfather is waiting for you."

"Lead the way." Sansa said, gesturing towards the city. Wynafred nodded and began walking, leading Sansa and her escort into White Harbour. Sansa had never been here before, but she remembered Arya speaking on it after their Father had taken her on a visit before everything went wrong. It was a relatively modest and small city as Andal standards went, and it wasn't long before Sansa was entering the New Castle, where even more Manderly guards were stood on duty.

They were then led to the Merman's Court, a room which was lavishly decorated in all manner of aquatic paintings and decoration. The floor depicted sea life mixed in with harsh black seaweed and the bones of the drowned, while the walls had tapestries depicting the tops of the ocean, as ships sailed, and krakens fought with leviathans. It was a beautiful room, Sansa thought. At the end of the room was a large, cushioned throne, where an even larger man sat comfortably. Sansa recognised him from some years ago at Winterfell, Lord Wyman Manderly.

Wynafred Manderly led them to the centre of the room and Sansa finally noticed the amount of guards on the second level of the room, each one of them armed and looking down distrustfully at the group of Lannisters. She then focused her attention on the fat Lord Manderly, who's granddaughter had gone to join by sitting in a smaller chair at his side. "Lady Sansa." Lord Wyman said, his voice booming and echoing in the room. "This is a surprise."

"As I explained to Lady Wynafred." Sansa began, her voice strong. "We are here to take my son to his castle, as is his right as the Lord of Winterfell."

"Winterfell is in the hands of the North, My Lady." Wyman told her coldly. "Lord Bolton has wisely moved his rule temporarily to the castle in order to cement his leadership, as given to him by Lord Tywin Lannister. Neither you, your Lannister whelp nor your Lannister lackeys are welcome in the North."

Sansa smiled wryly as she held her hands out to Mira, who placed Artos in her arms. "Lord Tywin Lannister is dead, as is Lord Tyland. You see before yourself a Lady of Ironrath, the daughter of Ned Stark and the Grandson of Ned Stark. We have been at the mercy of the South for too long, My Lord, and I come to you in the hope that you agree with me, that the Lannister influence needs to be cut out."

"My Lady." Ser Jasper's worried voice sounded from behind her.

"SILENCE!" Lord Manderly roared from his seat. As the room grew eery in its silence, Manderly's face went stoic. "You are right, of course, My Lady." He noted. "The Lannister rot must be extinguished." Lord Manderly then held his hand up and the gathered guards on the second floor all raised their crossbows, firing almost immediately. Sansa could hear the screams and the dying moans of the men that had escorted her to White Harbour behind her. She was surprised at how little she cared given how kind they had been throughout her time in King's Landing, but she just stared at Lord Manderly without breaking eye contact as those kind and loyal Lannister men died around her. As the fat Lord's face turned into a wry smile, and then a grin, Sansa felt able to smile too. Very quickly Lord Wyman's grin became a booming laugh and he gestured for Sansa to get closer, and Sansa took a step forwards. She quickly turned her head behind her to see only Mira still standing and the Lannister escort all lifeless on the floor. "Welcome back to the North, My Ladies." Wyman greeted. "We will have rooms prepared for you both."

"We are grateful for your hospitality, My Lord." Sansa smiled. "I am glad you received my letter."

"We weren't expecting you this soon, but I am truly glad to see you my dear." Wyman nodded. "Come, let us go somewhere that doesn't stink of Lannister filth to talk properly…"

With every moment of crisis, opportunity fell for some. Cersei Lannister was feeling that opportunity as she walked along the castle walls with her son. With Tyland's death and a major investigation into the cause fully underway all talk of her wedding to the pillow biter of Highgarden had stopped, and the Queen Mother was enjoying the added freedom that came with not being growled at by her older brother every five minutes.

"How are you feeling?" Tommen asked, snapping Cersei out of her internal victory cry.

Cersei just smiled and cupped Tommen's cheek. "Happy that both you and Myrcella are unharmed." She told him sweetly.

They walked a bit further on, with Cersei's hand wrapped around Tommen's arm before the King spoke again. "Do you ever miss Casterly Rock?"

Cersei scoffed. "There's nothing for me in Casterly Rock." She said quietly, hoping this wasn't a line of discussion that they'd go down for much longer.

Tommen shrugged. "I always thought that you missed it. You speak so fondly about your childhood there."

"My childhood there was lovely, but Casterly Rock is not my home anymore." She told him kindly. "King's Landing is my home, with you and Myrcella." She saw Tommen smile at this, and then she added. "Why are we speaking of Casterly Rock?"

"It was something Myrcella said." Tommen explained. "She told me that this was her home and it always will be her home. I just thought that if the same thing was the case for you and Casterly Rock, then I could keep you safe by having you stay there."

Cersei's heart soared. "My lovely boy." She whispered, stopping and cupping his cheek. "I will be safe enough here where I can be with you. We cannot let the murderer rip us apart."

"You Grace!" Myrcella called out, jogging over towards them her skirts in her hands. "Tommen, I need to speak with you."

"Join us." Cersei smiled, but she noticed the hard look in Myrcella's eyes as her daughter turned towards her.

"I need Tommen, Mother." Her words were flowery, but her look wasn't.

Tommen looked conflicted, but he turned to Cersei apologetically. "I'm sorry Mother, we will do this tomorrow instead?"

Cersei smiled, biting back her emotions. "Of course my love." She said softly, watching as Tommen was dragged away by his sister, the Kingsguard following him. Cersei's smile turned to a scowl quickly though, as the Queen Mother tried to work out what that look from her daughter meant.

Tyland's body arrived in Lannisport on a cold day. Genna Lannister had arrived back in the Westerlands a few days earlier and had immediately arranged for a large vigil in the Sept of the Faithful. The largest sept in the city was usually only reserved for the nobles and highborn of the West, but today it was open to all the city to walk in and pay their respects to the deceased Lord of the Rock.

Cerenna Lannister by the statue of the Maiden just out of the way as the smallfolk sidled along slowly, passing the cordoned off body and saying quiet prayers or words. If she was honest with herself she didn't expect this many people to actually care, and that thought was clearly readable on her face as the elderly Lannister woman that organised the event noticed from beside her.

"He was lots of things, Tyland." Genna Lannister said quietly so that Cerenna was the only one to hear. "To you and Loren with your youthful opinions he is probably the worst thing you can imagine, murdering Northmen and smallfolk at whim."

Cerenna frowned. "That seems like an oversimplification." She muttered.

"To me, probably the biggest face of evil was Maelys the Monstrous." Genna explained. "Growing up we would hear stories of the Blackfyre's and how they would come over and kill us all just for being Lannisters and supporting House Targaryen. It was truly frightening. For those that were born afterwards, it will likely be the Mad King, perhaps even the Ironborn. Our first fears never truly leave us." She looked around at the amount of people walking in and out of the sept around Tyland's body. "For many of these people Tyland brought justice after Lannisport burned in the Greyjoy Rebellion. You were but a babe then so you won't remember, but many people lost their friends and family in those attacks. But Tyland was the commander that sailed over to the Iron Islands and destroyed an entire House for his people."

"For House Lannister, for our fierce reputation." Cerenna argued.

Genna sighed at the younger woman. "Not to these people. To the people mourning him now, he fought for their loved ones. We just do them the kindness of not telling them otherwise." They watched on for longer as what seemed like the entire city stepped through the doors of the Sept, when Genna spoke again. "I hope your husband understands the challenges that he will be facing now that he is the Lord of the Rock."

"He knows well enough." Cerenna nodded.

"I hope so." Genna murmured. "Emmon's Lordly nephew in the Twins is furious with him it sounds like, perhaps the only friends he has in the Riverlands are inside Riverrun."

"And Harrenhal." Cerenna countered. "Lord Olyvar has written a kind letter of condolence to Loren."

Genna took a breath. "Two important castles, but still only two castles."

"It will not come to further war." Cerenna said sharply.

"My dear, do not be naïve." Genna told her. "In the span of a single year both Tywin and Tyland are dead. The Riverlands have rebelled and still simmer in anger aimed in every direction, now the North will smell blood as their supposed Lord is but a babe, and Dorne will be plotting too." Cerenna went to interrupt, but Genna snapped quickly. "Let me finish child. You and Loren have had it easy up till now, and don't act like it hasn't been so. You got your way in wedding him, you have a beautiful daughter and Loren has won a single, paltry war against a single House in the Riverlands. Now the challenges are coming, and the entire Westerlands are relying on the pair of you alone."

Cerenna nodded, but she didn't cower. "You speak true, we are in uncharted territory now, but there is one thing you are mistaken on, My Lady." She said quietly, watching the people moving around Tyland's body. "We aren't alone."

Even the Manderly solar was nautical with naval devices and pictures of mermaids and ships lining the walls. Sansa sat comfortably in a cushioned chair sipping on a glass of lemonwater as Lord Manderly was at his desk, looking at the Stark girl curiously. "Your letter intrigued me when I read it, I honestly felt it to be a trap."

Sansa smiled. "I thought that, so I did try to make it as obvious as I could that I was speaking as a Stark. I'm glad you believed me."

"Our House has been loyal to your House for a millennium." Lord Wyman explained. "There was never any doubt that we wouldn't come to the aid of a Stark. Although I do worry for when King's Landing finds out that you are here."

"They won't." Sansa told him. "Not for a while anyway, the Queen believes me to be in Casterly Rock, the guards believe me to be in Riverrun. They'll have their chase while we consolidate our position in the North."

Wyman had a grin on his chubby face. "Well My Lady, those are words I like hearing." He chuckled. "But I am eager to hear your plan."

"We take back the North." Sansa said firmly. "Lord Bolton betrayed my brother for his own gain, and that betrayal led to the murder of thousands of Northmen, both your sons included. He must pay."

Wyman's mirth had turned to anger. "I do not need you to tell me of Lord Bolton's crimes." Wyman growled. "But he is strong. What army do you have to stop him?"

"The army of the North." Sansa told him firmly. "Like you, Lords and Ladies will be angered at serving Bolton and eager for a chance to strike. We rally them, we march on Winterfell and we take it back. Then we can look back to the South."

"We don't have the forces for that." Wyman noted.

"We don't need them." Sansa explained. "I learnt a lot while at that monster's side. He taught me many things about where House Lannister's enemies are. If we reclaim the North, we can be ready for them."

Wyman looked at Sansa curiously. "And where are these enemies?"

"Across the Narrow Sea, looking for a way back." Sansa smirked. "A woman with an army, a grudge, and three growing dragons."

That peaked Wyman's interests. He leant back in his chair as he stroked his chin thinking about it. "So we rid the North of Bolton's and their traitorous allies, we rebuild in time for a Targaryen invasion, and we join her in getting our revenge on the Lannisters." He surmised, before grinning. "I like it, My Lady. I like it a lot. There is just one problem."

Sansa frowned. "And that is?"

"I cannot raise an army for you." Wyman explained. "I can only do so for the true heir to Winterfell."

Sansa stopped as she processed the statement. "I am the true heir to Winterfell." She said coldly. "My brothers are dead, my Father is dead. Jon is a bastard and cannot inherit."

"I'm not talking about Jon Snow." Wyman said firmly. "But you are mistaken, My Lady. Your brothers are not dead."

Sansa's heart missed a beat. Her mind wandered to Robb's grin, to Bran climbing the walls and to Rickon's scraggly hair. "Explain yourself." She commanded.

Wyman rang a small bell on his desk. "There has been a great conspiracy coming from Winterfell ever since the Ironborn sacked it, none more so than spreading the lie of murder." The door opened, and Sansa gasped as she instantly recognised the newcomer, his messy hair glaringly recognisable. "I cannot raise an army for you, My Lady, because Lord Rickon is the true Lord of Winterfell."

There we are then… Sansa has used Tyland's death to escape the clutches of the Lannisters and returned to the North in some style, but all her plans have been blown away because Rickon is alive! I've had a couple of reviewers ask about the Stark boys and the full explanation is coming next week.

Before that though, an important chapter for Daenerys. Tyrion is inevitably one of the leading experts on Dragons in the known world and I find it crazy that not even one copy of Septon Barth's Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History survived the literary purge of King Baelor, so I kept at least one copy for Tyrion to have read. Also happening here is a pushed up Ironborn arrival in Meereen, mainly because Theon is dead and Yara knew she needed to get out of the Iron Islands. Again, more information on that next time.

Silver crow inspired the Lannisport scene with Genna and Cerenna. They wanted, and I agreed, to see the citizens of Lannisport mourning Tyland in a different way to those that viewed him as an enemy. I had to have Genna there as the wiser old head giving the speeches and it's a valid point. Different generations have different opinions on things based on their life experiences.

Next Time: Sansa learns what happened to Rickon after Winterfell was sacked, while the trial of Obara Sand takes place…

Reviews:

Mister LaGuardia: You do have to remember that Loren is both partially grieving as well as trying to navigate now being the outright leader of House Lannister, so all he is thinking of here is how this one action affects him. As for the sword, he's just thinking of his brother having at least one good memory of his Father.

Supremus85: The new Hand of the King hasn't been chosen yet.

Silver crow: I'm glad you like Myrcella! She will play a big part now. Loren is very conflicted that's the crux of it. He hated Tyland's actions when he understood what was going on, but that doesn't negate the positives of his early life.

E. Minor25: In the world of Westeros marital rape isn't really a thing. We know it's 100% rape, Sansa knows it's rape, but to Myrcella they are husband and wife and she wasn't around to see a lot of Sansa's reactions.

roggerlopez99: I think you're right, Tyrion will likely feel a bit like Loren, only with more hatred.