This story now has over 250,000 views and over 600 comments. I honestly didn't expect that when I first started this story so a massive thank you to everybody who has read it, followed it, favourited it, reviewed it or all of the above. Without the support I can safely say this story would have likely been abandoned or deleted, so it's a credit to you for keeping me motivated even throughout the long periods without updates.

I've updated the Author's Note in Chapter 40. There was simply a typo, as it is Chapter 52 that I'm really excited for, not 53.

We're coming to an exciting part of the story now as the next 20 chapters are probably my personal favourite arc of the whole story, so buckle in and enjoy the ride!

I own nothing but any OC's, all other characters and locations are the product of HBO or George R R Martin.

Sansa's mouth remained open as a tear fell out of one eye. The sight of her youngest brother, dressed in a neat turquoise tunic and black trousers, shocked the Stark girl to her core. She immediately rushed out of her seat and enveloped Rickon in a fierce hug, holding the boy tightly. "I can't believe it." She whispered into his scraggily hair. "I thought you were dead."

Rickon shrugged as his own arms found Sansa's back. "Osha and Shaggy kept me safe." He muttered into her shoulder quietly.

Sansa's mind began to race then as she pulled away slightly, holding Rickon's head in her hands. "But if you're alive… Bran?" She whispered hopefully.

"Lord Brandon has decided to travel North of the Wall." Wyman explained. "We haven't heard anything of him or the Reed children in over two years."

Sansa let go of Rickon to sit back in her seat and she looked questioningly over at the Manderly Lord. "So he could be alive? If he is, he is the Lord of Winterfell."

Wyman clenched his teeth and took a deep breath. "My Lady, you have been gone a long time. You do not know what it has been like in the North under the Bolton's. We could not wait in hope that a crippled boy survived North of the Wall, even if his goal was to return to the North. I did what I needed to in order to ensure that House Stark survived, and the best hope for that was to plan around the one Stark within reach."

The unsaid words were clear in Sansa's mind, as was the other absentee in the Merman's Court. "Lady Wylla." She said, hoping she was wrong.

"Is now Lady Stark." Wyman nodded. "You are as smart as your letter portrayed, My Lady."

"Rickon is 9!" Sansa exclaimed angrily.

"And the last son of House Stark!" Wyman roared back. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, calming himself. "My apologies for raising my voice, My Lady, but you must understand. You are by all the laws a Lannister. Your sister is by all the laws a Frey. All we had was the youngest Stark and the son of Ned Stark. I moved to secure him to family forever loyal to House Stark by wedding him to my Wylla."

"I like Wylla." Rickon said from the corner as he pulled himself into a chair. "She tells me good stories."

Sansa felt disgusted still. "This is manipulation, Lord Manderly. Rickon is a child…"

"This is war!" Wyman exclaimed again. "We have had to do what we have done in order to dream of a brighter future. The people of the North are scared, My Lady. We have no armies, no leadership. All we have are Bolton loyalists and green men in command too scared to oppose them. Before Lord Rickon was found, we had no hope. Now we do. I swear to you, Wylla has not behaved untowardly, she has simply done her duty to her house. When Rickon is old enough they will consummate but not before."

Sansa sighed, happy to hear that Rickon hadn't been forced into bed as she had and understanding that she was simply charging into the room and acting as if she knew better. "My apologies, My Lord." She said calmly. "This is all a great shock."

"I understand." Wyman nodded. "You have experienced horrors that I cannot comprehend I am sure, as we have also experienced those which you have been sheltered from by being inside the belly of the beast. All we can do now is work together to rebuild the North."

Sansa smiled, as she stared over at Rickon once more. "What happened to you?"

"He doesn't talk an awful lot." Wyman said sadly. Rickon nodded at the man's words. "But from what his Wildling friend told me, they escaped Winterfell before the Bolton's sacked it…"

"The Bolton's? I thought it was the Greyjoy's." Sansa said.

"As did we, until Rickon was found." Manderly explained. "But then many lies have been shared the Sacking of Winterfell seems."

Sansa remembered her conversation from Arya after the younger Stark girl had been captured where she discovered that she had been lied to about Theon and nodded, her anger rising again. "Yes, it seems so."

"The Bolton's sacked the castle and your brothers escaped. They met up with the Reed siblings and went North." Wyman Manderly explained. "Rickon went to Last Hearth while Brandon went Beyond the Wall. It was only because my cousin is the Maester at Last Hearth that I learned of Lord Rickon's survival."

"Why not stay with the Umbers?" Sansa asked. "As grateful as I am to you for looking after him Lord Wyman, the Umbers are equally as loyal."

Wyman nodded. "And famously so, the Bolton's knew as such. They had Bolton eyes on them far greater than we have eyes scrutinising us here, and when Lord Bolton marched on the Wall it was seen as too dangerous to keep Lord Rickon there, so my cousin smuggled him out and sent him to White Harbour, where he has been ever since."

Sansa digested the information. "How many people know Rickon is alive?"

"Not many." Wyman explained. "We didn't want to spread the news until Rickon could lead men himself. The only people at Last Hearth who knew were young Ned Umber, his Mother and my cousin."

Sansa frowned as she began to think again. "The North will rally around Rickon far easier than they would with me." She conceded. "But we cannot let the Bolton's know he lives."

"And the North will think I'm mad if I start speaking about a Targaryen alliance." Wyman explained. "So the question becomes, how do we convince everybody?"

Sansa stood up once more and moved over to look out of the window. The snow was falling peacefully, and the view was a really nice one, overlooking the harbour. "I am still here, and even the Bolton's won't allow news of my arrival to reach the South, lest they be seen as traitors to the Crown." She guessed. "Who can we trust?"

"Lord Reed." Wyman said firmly. "Lady Flint, Lady Mormont, Lord Glover, Lord Locke. The others? Most are just keeping their heads down after the flaying of Lord Cerwyn."

Sansa shivered at the thought. "Lady Mormont and Lord Glover are far away, but the others… how many men is that?"

"4,000 perhaps?" Wyman asked. "The war hit us hard."

"It is a start." Sansa said softly. "If we can get word to those closest to us, convince them to gather their men…"

"Then more will follow once they see a resistance against the Bolton's forming." Wyman grinned. "I can get discreet summons to them."

"And I can persuade them of the merits of overthrowing the Bolton's and helping Daenerys Targaryen destroy the Lannisters." Sansa added, her grin joining Wyman's. She then turned to Rickon and told him. "We'll go home together, Rickon. Together we will take Winterfell back."

Dawn had barely broken in the Red Keep, but Loren was already up and pacing around in the Small Council chambers. The trial of Obara Sand had been scheduled for the following day, but they were still missing one judge of the three that would decide the bastard's fate along with the King himself and Lord Tyrell. Myrcella had summoned him early in order for the pair to decide, but they were making no headway. Loren had suggested Randyll Tarly, but the Lord of Horn Hill hadn't arrived at the capital yet and Myrcella had other reservations.

"We do not want to give the Reach any more power, Loren." She told him. "Lord Mace is already one of the three, we cannot give them two spots. It would make Tommen seem like a Tyrell puppet."

Loren grimaced, but she was right. "Then we are stuck." He sighed. "It cannot be a Lannister, lest we are seen as unjust. The rest of the Small Council are either Reachmen or lowborn and untrustworthy."

Myrcella sighed. "There has to be somebody." She was looking at her notes, desperately trying to spot something."

"You should just let me fight her. A trial by combat." Loren muttered darkly.

"No." Myrcella retorted firmly. "Let us ignore the fact that you would be risking your life when everybody is looking at Casterly Rock as weak given the overhaul, Obara Sand isn't a knight or a Lord. She cannot claim that right."

Loren frowned, his fingers dancing over the pommel of Red Rain. "A pity." He said quietly. "I swore I would kill my Father's murderer."

"You shall see them die, that is enough." Myrcella added with a hint of finality. "Tommen hates the practice, after seeing Prince Oberyn and Ser Lyn Corbray die in that manner… he would outlaw it if he could."

Loren sighed, pulling back a chair and trying to think. "Nobody from the West, nobody from the Reach." He repeated. "Nobody from the Crownlands, we already have Tommen. What of a Frey?"

"Too close again." Myrcella sighed. "Those that would answer the summons are family."

Grimacing, Loren closed his eyes and leant his head over the back of the chair. "Are you sure I can't just challenge her? Letting the Gods decide would be so much easier…"

"That's it." Myrcella interrupted quickly, and Loren opened his eyes to look at her, noticing the grin on her face. "We let the Gods decide and we ask the High Septon."

Loren groaned. "That lecherous beast?"

"It's brilliant. The King, a Lord Paramount and the Gods own chosen voice." Myrcella grinned. "Not even the Dornish can be sly enough to plan against that." Myrcella rose to her feet and kissed Loren on the cheek. "Thank you."

Loren looked bemused at how she was crediting him with the idea, but he had to agree with it. "I'll write to him. I have a rider leaving the city today as it stands for Riverrun. I should meet my little brother." Myrcella looked surprised at that, but Loren didn't wait for an explanation as he rose to his feet and went to leave the room. "I shall see you later, cousin." Loren kissed her back on the cheek before departing, eager to put the matter of the trial behind him once and for all.

The sight of the burning Volantene ships would stay with Tyrion for a long time. Daenerys had swooped down and destroyed half a dozen before the slavers surrendered, and Daenerys wasn't taking any prisoners. The surviving captains had been rounded up into one more ship and set aflame, while the others were forced to walk the route back to Volantis through the Demon Road, and every local that Tyrion spoke to were convinced that that punishment was just as severe of an execution.

After all of that though, Tyrion found himself stood next to Daenerys as she sat on her throne, staring down at the Greyjoy saviour. Tyrion had honestly forgotten that Balon Greyjoy had sired a daughter, but there she was on the next lowest level of the steps to the throne looking as though she belonged there.

"Yara Greyjoy." Daenerys said coldly after Missandei had announced all of her titles. "You arrived at an opportune time it seems."

Yara smirked. "You're welcome." She responded arrogantly.

Daenerys bristled, but Tyrion noticed a glint of amusement in her purple eyes. "You are a long way from home though, why have you travelled to Meereen?"

"To seek out you." Yara explained quickly. "My Father was murdered, my brothers were murdered." She looked at Tyrion coldly at that statement. "I am the rightful ruler of the Iron Islands, yet my banished uncle Euron returned and took it from me."

Daenerys nodded. "Usurpers run rampant across the Narrow Sea it seems."

"Quite." Yara smirked again. "He boasted loudly and proudly of offering you his giant cock in return for an alliance, so I came here first."

"And why should I ally with you instead?" Daenerys asked. "You have a number of ships it is true, I presume if you were fleeing that he has more?"

Yara didn't look perturbed. "Once Euron marries you and you take the Iron Throne, you would find yourself dead somehow." She explained. "He has a long and storied history of fucking women and murdering them once he has what he wants."

"And he wants the Iron Throne, otherwise he wouldn't seek a marriage with the Queen." Tyrion interjected. "What do you want?"

"Vengeance." Yara snarled at the Lannister. "I'll start with Euron, perhaps I'll continue with your brother for murdering mine."

Ah, Tyland once again was creating friends with his actions. "Be my guest." Tyrion told her coldly.

"Lord Tyrion has disowned his evil brother, and he is an ally." Daenerys said quickly. "If you wish for a similar arrangement, you will treat him fairly and not judge him on the crimes of his family. If the stories I have heard are true then we are all children of terrible Fathers." Yara bristled, but she nodded the once. Daenerys then turned to Tyrion. "What is your opinion?"

Tyrion thought for a moment. "Euron was the mastermind behind the Lannisport attack, was he not?"

"He was." Yara said.

"Then we should never ally with such a man." Tyrion said firmly to his Queen before turning back to Yara. "You seem better at least, and you did aid us here in Meereen. Such an action should be rewarded. But with conditions. No more reaving or raiding the mainland. I still hear the screams of your last attempt at rebellion. Your people have plenty of skills and resources to trade and still prosper, you don't need to burn the mainland to be able to live."

"Agreed." Daenerys said. "I have worked here to end slavery and to build a better world for both highborn and lowborn, and I will continue that work in Westeros."

"That is our way of life." Yara said cautiously.

Tyrion nodded. "It was once my ancestor's way of life to worship trees. The Valyrians were nothing more than goat herders. Things change, and so must you if you want an alliance with House Targaryen."

"It is non-negotiable." Daenerys insisted. "If you want my help in retaking the Salt Throne, you will agree."

Yara took a deep breath, but she nodded. "It will be a tough sell to my people, but if it means I can take Euron's head with a dragon at my back, then so be it."

Daenerys had a smile on her face. "Then with your ships, the captured ships from Volantis and the Baratheon fleet, we should have enough to ferry the Unsullied over to Westeros." Tyrion could only agree. "Lord Tyrion, return to Lady Shireen and prepare your men for departure. Westeros has been left without a Targaryen standing on its soil for long enough."

The gates creaked open slowly as the pair of riders and an albino Direwolf slowly entered the snowy city. As the woman dressed all in red dismounted her horse and went to speak with the guards that would either allow them into the city or not, it gave a chance for the man to ponder on recent events. His chest still hurt with every breath as the skin around the wounds was still in the process of healing. Thinking about his wounds made him think on those that inflicted them on him. He could feel Ollie's knife plunging deep into his heart and his anger continued to grow. He had seen the boy hang and he had seen the body burn but Jon Snow couldn't forgive him.

He looked over at the Red Woman talking away with a Manderly guard. She had brought him back after having arrived with the Free Folk after his death. Somehow with her magic she had brought Jon back to life, how he didn't even want to know, but the why he had been told almost immediately after being brought back. She had seen him in a vision, fighting in the snowy bogs of the Neck against the Night King. Jon stared at her bitterly, he almost wished she had let him die, but instead she encouraged him to leave the Wall and led him to White Harbour claiming it to be the last of the Stark strongholds and that he would find his future there.

Unsure of what he was supposed to do, Jon just waited until the Red Woman returned to him. "We are to follow to the Wolf's Den." She explained.

Jon knew enough of White Harbour to know what the old fortress had been turned into. "They're imprisoning us." He muttered dryly.

"You know nothing, Jon Snow." Melisandre said aloofly and Jon hated her even more. Those words caused him nothing but pain.

He didn't retaliate though and followed the Manderly guards through the city towards the old castle, its crumbling black walls standing out in the snowfall. They were led through the internal courtyard and told to dismount, before they were led inside the main keep and through a corridor until they were outside once more, standing inside a Godswood. Jon felt Ghost tense up beside him and went to grab Longclaw's hilt, but suddenly the Direwolf bolted, colliding with a large black Direwolf that Jon vaguely remembered.

"Shaggy where have you gone!" A voice startled Jon, and he frowned, trying to spot the source of the voice.

"I told you, you are needed here in White Harbour." Melisandre explained, but Jon had spotted the source as she said that, and the scraggly hair of Rickon Stark came running into view.

Jon was shocked into silence as he stared at Rickon, who had only just noticed that he wasn't alone in the Godswood. Rickon cocked his head like a dog would before he called out. "Sansa, Jon's here."

Jon's knees almost buckled as he heard his sister's name, but sure enough an elegant woman with fiery red hair appeared from behind the twisted and grotesque Weirwood tree. Jon watched as her hand flew to her mouth in recognition, and then she started running to him. He couldn't remember moving himself, but almost instantly Jon had Sansa wrapped in his arms and spun her around, not wanting to let her go. He had to eventually though, and as he dropped Sansa to her feet he put one knee in the snow and Rickon was there in his arms.

"How are you both here… how are you alive?" Jon asked, emotions threatening to overwhelm him as he held Rickon tightly before dropping him to the ground. Sansa grinned and gestured to a couple of stones to sit on before she explained the story, and Jon did shed a tear when he heard about Bran going North. "I could have gone looking for him." Jon whispered.

"If he wanted to be found by you, he knew where you were." Sansa explained. "But tell me about you, why are you here? I thought you were the Lord Commander." Jon looked around and noticed that Melisandre and the guards had left them alone. With the isolation, he left no detail unsaid, explaining about the Great Ranging and Ygritte, telling Sansa about the Battle at Castle Black where the Night's Watch had been saved by Roose Bolton, about how the Bolton's had flayed both Mance Rayder and Tormund Giantsbane alive. Jon hesitated when he got to Hardhome and letting the Wildlings through the Wall. He almost stopped when it came to his death but he persevered, telling Sansa the names of those who had shoved their knives into his torso. He expected Sansa to be shocked and outraged, angry at those that he had suffered at the hands of, but her face was a blank slate. "We have suffered far too much." She said in a silent anger, her eyes blazing in a deep blue fury. "I have, you have. Rickon and Bran. Arya…"

"Where is Arya?" Jon asked quickly. He had heard little at the Wall of his youngest sister and he paled as he thought of the things that she had been forced to face.

"Imprisoned in marriage, just as I was." Sansa said bitterly. "In Riverrun, silent. I haven't heard from her in months."

The Frey's, Jon felt ill as he heard the traitorous family's name. Losing Robb had been tough so soon after losing Father and it was only thanks to his friends at Castle Black that he had pulled through. Even they were mostly dead now. "We need to rescue her." He said firmly, not willing to risk another person that he cared about. "We need to bring her here, safe, with her family."

"We will." Sansa explained. "But not yet."

Jon stood up furiously. "Not yet? Who knows what they are doing to her!"

"I do. Likely the same things Tyland Lannister did to me while I was his to abuse as he saw fit." Sansa said coldly. "Arya is strong, but the North is not. Our priority right now is Winterfell."

"How can you say that?" Jon retorted. "You always wanted to leave as a child, and now a burned rubble is more important than our sister?"

"Yes!" Sansa exclaimed loudly, startling the Direwolves and Rickon in the near distance. She took a deep breath and explained. "To get Arya we will need an army that can combat the Riverlands and the Lannisters. We don't have that yet. What we do have is a chance to take back the North. Once we have Winterfell and the armies of the North sworn to us, then we can go and get Arya and make everybody that has made us suffer pay."

Jon wanted to argue, but her logic was sound. "Then what is the plan?" He asked, sensing that this wasn't a Sansa that swooned at knights and stories any longer. This was a Sansa that had suffered greatly at the hands of the enemy and was looking for revenge. "If you want to retake the North, we need more allies. Tell me what I can do?"

Smirking, Sansa began to explain to him everything that she and Lord Wyman had planned, and it really didn't take a lot of persuading for Jon to make his mind up, fall to one knee and swear his sword to Rickon as the rightful Lord of Winterfell.

The Throne Room was packed. Loren was stood up in the gallery with his cousin watching as the crowd below began to gather. He spotted Damion and Benarr down below, neither of them considered important enough to be invited up where he stood, a fact which didn't sit well with Loren. Shaking that to one side, he looked up at the Iron Throne. Tommen sat there getting some last-minute instructions from Kevan, the newly appointed Hand of the King. The High Septon sat to the King's right, whilst Lord Mace Tyrell sat to his left.

"What happened with Trystane?" Loren asked the Princess. She had gone to visit the Dornishman again that morning after the list of witnesses had been shared with the Small Council.

"I'm not sure." Myrcella told him honestly. "He was still adamant on standing witness, consequences be damned."

Before Loren could respond even further, Kevan joined them up in the gallery and spoke to the Princess and Loren quietly. "He is ready."

"Good." Loren said, equally as quietly. He then fell silent as the doors swung open, and Jaime led the small procession of Gold Cloaks that dragged a chained Obara Sand up to her podium.

"Obara Sand, natural daughter of Prince Oberyn Martell." Pycelle announced. "You are brought before the Iron Throne today to be tried for the murder of Hand of the King, Lord Tyland Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West."

Obara growled. "I did no such thing." She said through clenched teeth.

"We shall be the judge of that." Tommen said loudly. "The crown calls for its first witness."

Captain Vylarr was summoned to the witness podium, and he recounted the events of the night. Loren winced as he listened to the Captain's experience of finding the body and raising the alarm, of sending Ser Jasper to secure the safety of Lady Sansa and Arthur, and of telling Jaime what had happened. It was tough to listen to, but the Captain wasn't dismissed after his recount.

"How does this relate to the accused?" Tommen asked, and Loren was impressed at his younger cousin's strength.

"A day earlier I had been instructed by Ser Jasper that Lady Sansa had been made aware of threats against House Lannister. Her handmaid had overheard discussions by the accused and her sister." Vylarr explained.

The High Septon shifted uncomfortably. "What was said in these… discussions?"

"They were seeking vengeance for the death of Prince Oberyn in a trial by combat." Vylarr explained, and Loren could only stare at the mix of anguish and anger on Obara's face. "The words told to me were that the accused had said that no Lannister would be safe, old or young. Lady Sansa took that to mean her son was in danger."

"We do not hurt babes in Dorne, unlike some places." Obara snarled.

"Silence!" Tommen said, unnaturally assertively. "The accused will have her chance to defend herself after the crowns witnesses have all spoken." He took a deep breath. "Thank you, Captain."

Vylarr bowed his head and departed, leaving Tommen to call his next witness. The list of witnesses that were implicating Obara in the murder soon grew. The Queen's handmaiden Sera spoke of a conversation with Sansa's handmaiden about the same conversation as well as the note that had been left to indicate Sansa's departure from the capital. Pycelle himself described the wounds, a topic that Loren was forced to grip the stone bannister so tightly in discomfort that his knuckles turned white. Even Princess Myrcella was called to speak about the opinions of Tyland in Dorne and she explained how it wasn't a secret that Obara had a hatred for Loren's Father. It all painted a damning picture. Loren himself had grown convinced after hearing it all and was willing for the trial to be over and for the Dornish bastard's head to be placed upon Traitor's Walk as soon as possible.

Eventually the accusing witnesses came to an end and after a brief break for food, Tommen turned to Obara herself. "Before I call upon your sole witness, have you anything to say in your defence?" He asked her.

Loren could only see half of the Dornish woman's face, but it was angry. "I am being framed." She said quietly, but venomously. "This is a Lannister mummery, trying to hide behind justice and fairness in order to silence those that would give them what they deserve for the crimes they have committed. I did not kill Tyland Lannister, though if given the chance I would join the legions of men and women who would piss on his grave. The Lannisters are the true criminals here, for the murders of Elia, of Oberyn, of Rhaenys and Aegon."

"Prince Oberyn was unfortunately killed in a trial by combat." The High Septon reminded her. "The Gods themselves decided his fate."

Obara smirked, but her eyes glared. "A seven-foot murdering rapist killed him, not the Gods." She told the godly man bitterly. She turned to the crowd who had started to mutter. "Notice how nobody defends the murders of the women and children, because it gets swept away, a dirty little secret."

"Enough." Tommen said firmly, and the room became deathly silent. "I myself ordered the trial into those disgusting deaths, and the result was clear." He took a deep breath. "You named only one willing witness, Prince Trystane Martell." Myrcella, who had re-joined Loren after her own questioning, tensed up beside him. Loren however could only look around the room like everybody else as no movements were made. "Prince Trystane!" Jaime himself was the only one to move, rising up the steps to the Iron Throne and whispering in the King's ear. Tommen looked surprised at whatever was being said, but he nodded and sat up rigidly on the Iron Throne. "It seems that Prince Trystane has withdrawn his agreement to stand witness."

"What?" Obara gasped, looking up in the gallery and staring directly into Myrcella's eyes. She looked angry, hurt and dangerous at that moment. "You!" She pointed at the Princess, her hands still bound in iron shackles.

"ENOUGH!" Tommen shouted. "You have had your chance to speak, it is now up to the three of us to decide if you are guilty or not." He turned to Mace Tyrell. "Lord Tyrell?"

"Guilty." The oafish man nodded. Loren smirked at the verdict knowing that Mace was always going to claim that, the Lord of Highgarden's hatred of Dorne was almost as great as his own.

"High Septon?"

The man bristled in his seat as he stared down at Obara. "May the Stranger guide you on to the next world quickly, my child. Guilty."

"Yes." Loren whispered harshly, a feeling of relief passing over him. The result couldn't be overruled now.

Tommen sighed sadly. "Then by the decision of the three of us, I hereby find you, Obara Sand, guilty of the murder of Lord Tyland Lannister. You are therefore sentenced to die and will be summoned before the King's Justice at noon tomorrow. Guards, take her away."

Mild shouts of anger were directed from gathered Westerlanders in the crowd below Loren towards Obara Sand as she was quickly dragged out of the room, but the Lord of Casterly Rock found himself rooted to the spot as he digested the fact that his Father would soon be avenged, not noticing until too late the tear of emotion that leaked out of his eye.

A lot happening this chapter then! Stark reunions, Targaryen alliances and Lannister justice…

The main thing I think people will be interested in is the Jon scene. We have a bit of an explanation into how the story has affected his arc, and finally Melisandre re-emerges after disappearing in Chapter 17. She has basically been hiding with the Wildlings since leaving Stannis. There's also a part about Arya in this scene, which made me laugh as it had all been written before a number of reviews and comments on both here and Ao3 about where Arya is.

Yara arrives and explains what has happened to her and the Iron Islands within this story too. Tyrion meanwhile is still traumatised by the Greyjoy Rebellion along with a large percentage of Lannisport, which will be fun to explore in the future…

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I certainly enjoyed writing it. Please feel free to leave a review if you have any comments or questions, I love reading them all!

Next time: The Dornish/Lannister relationship is fractured completely, while Daenerys gets ready to sail…

Reviews:

Supremus85: For me Sansa would want to stay well away from claiming Casterly Rock, especially as she never had an issue with Loren, and he was kind to her.

E. Minor25: She won't, it's obviously just a shock considering she thought he was dead!

Wing: Married to a Frey in Riverrun and suspiciously quiet…

kirito emiya: Well one of those is dead and the other two are Stark siblings, so not of the incest kind. So no.

roggerlopez99: Rickon's role is a bit difficult as he's still a kid, but he's currently the figure that those loyal to the Starks will rally behind as their Lord of Winterfell.

Trane671: She didn't care about Lannister guards dying. This is a woman that has been held hostage by those that the guards represented so it's understandable she wouldn't care that they died. Her son, who she has renamed Artos Stark remember, is an entirely different matter.

TheRagFromTheCrag: There are lots of people clever enough to frame the Dornish, there are lots of people including the Dornish that wanted him dead. The question for you all of course is if Obara was the murderer, or if somebody either planned it to perfection or got extremely lucky.

Silver crow: Sansa is just doing whatever she can to survive. She's been learning from Tyland too, so some ruthlessness is to be expected. I don't think I'll ever do a one shot about Tyland, but if I'm honest for him to truly love someone I genuinely think Joanna needs to survive and that's a massive can of worms to open in itself. I agree about Tywin though, all he cared about was how his family were seen as throughout, and his famous line to Jaime is 'a lion doesn't care about the opinion of the sheep' which of course is pretty much nonsense given how much he cares about the Lannister image.