A/N: since I forgot to disclaim stuff, I will now-

I do not own any of the characters/events/worlds created in Song of Ice and Fire or in the TV show Game of Thrones. Those were made by way more talented established people.

Enjoy that chapter!

When I entered the big hall, I got some suspicious looks from some people. Sansa was eating some bread and butter delicately when she spotted me enter with a big platter full of rye-rolls. It was the last one I had to send, and then I could finally relax and be done with the ship. It's crazy it's only breakfast time.

"Lady Silver?" Sansa asked with a bit of wonder and amusement in her voice.

"Please," I said and laid the platter down next to her, "Please don't call me that." I saw the chair next to her was empty, so I let myself sit on it without any questions. I was tired, I was worn out and I still had a slight hangover. I'm not going to pretend I have manners for anyone, not even the lady of Winterfell. I took one roll and ripped it in half, "Call me Andie." I said and bit into the steaming roll. Oh, wow. That's good.

"You are covered head to toe in flour." Sansa commented and turned to take a better look at me. "No wonder you're getting along so well with my sister."

I swallowed, "Yup. Also, the fact that we're both young assassins quite helped."

Sansa's eyes widen, surprised to find out what I told her. Well, I didn't see a reason to hide it from people here. Last night I talked about it with Arya. She said she's better 'cause she can wear other people's faces. I told her that I can use a soundless sniper gun and shoot someone dead a mile and a half away so it doesn't matter what my face looks like.

We're taking our tragedies very seriously. Not.

"Are you?" Sansa asked. "Then why did you spend your time at the bakery?"

"Your brother tricked me into that. He said he needs help. I was too hungover to protest. When we got there, it was too late." I started eating the other half.

Sansa sighed and leaned back in her seat, "I guess we do need help in the bakery, but someone as skillful as you could do much more. Though I am not going to question Jon's decisions."

I looked at her with my mouth full, "Well, I am." I said.

She tried to hide her smirk as she stood up and patted clean her already clean dress. "If you'll excuse me, I have important matters to take care of." She said and turned o leave. "And please, clean up the floor and chairs off the flour after yourself." Then she looked me up and down, "I'll have rosy prepare a bath for you as well. Later, Lady Silver."

I gave her a sharp look. I guess she was kinda friendly with me, but couldn't help being a bit of a snob.

But she was right. Everything was floury around me. I felt bad for the servants so I grabbed a broom and stared to clean, ignoring looks from other high-ranking people that sat around for a late breakfast.

Just as I was about to leave the great hall, I heard my name again. "Andie!"

It was Jon. I clenched my jaw as my hands turned into tight fists. I just kept on walking. I need to get rid of the flour, and change into clothes that don't look like a potato-sack leftovers.

"Andie." I heard him calling me again. Then he grabbed my wrist.

"Can't I get a fucking break?" I raised my voice too much as I turned to face him.

"I need you at the sparring yard."

I blinked and returned him a look. "What." It wasn't really a question.

Jon looked back. Ser Davos and Tormund were standing behind him, holding a blowtorch and a flamethrower. "We need to demonstrate how to use the flamethrowers."

I took out a breath and looked at Tormund again. Everything that includes Tormund must be fun.

"Alright."

We were back at the sparring yard. I had the chance to change into actual clothes-warm leggings, leather coat and boots. This time Jon had a few human-shaped targets for us to practice on. Buckets full of water lined one of the walls, just in case something will get out of control.

There were soldiers around the yard-small units from each force. I took one of the flamethrowers out and adjusted it to my size so I'll be able to carry it easily on my back.

"How do you want me to introduce you?" Jon asked quietly so only I can hear.

I made a weird face. "Introduce me? I'm Andie."

"Well, you need some kind of title. The Westerosi people will respect you better if you'll have one, and since you don't like being called a lady…'

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, fine." I said, thinking. Well, I can be Gun Master Andie. Nope, too weird. Maybe Super Andie? I don't know how'd they like that. Then I smiled and told Jon. He drew his eyebrows together in confusion and said, "It doesn't sound right."

"Well, you asked for a title." I said smugly. Jon rolled his eyes at me and went to talk with the people. Closer to us stood Brienne and Pod, Arya, Clegane, Grey Warm, two Dathraki who knew English (they call it here 'the common tongue', apparently), Bronn, Lyanna Mormont (Badass kid extraordinaire) and someone with black hair and blue eyes I haven't met before who talked to Davos, maybe I saw him he other day I was teaching Arya to shoot. There were also Tormund and Baric, and another guy in black I saw talking with Jon the other day. I think he's from the Night's Watch, too. Bronn was talking with Jaime Lannister at the corner behind us. On the balconies stood Sansa next to Bran and Sam Tarly, who very kindly introduced himself to me at lunch yesterday. Daenerys stood near them with Tyrion, Varys and Missandei.

Jon cleared his throat and started, "I summoned you all here to learn how to use a weapon I brought from the land of New York," I fought the urge to correct him that it actually just came from California, and he could just say the United States of America, but it wasn't important, "This is President Andie Silver, and I want you to listen closely and watch the demonstration." Then he stepped back and looked at me. I blinked.

"Oh, it's my turn." I said and looked around. "Listen up, people!" I shouted and walked around the yard. "I heard you're fighting ice zombies that are destroyed only by fire and whatever dragonglass is. So, since carrying around torches it not the easiest thing… I present to you, the flamethrower!" No hand clapping was heard at the que. Oh, well. Humorless people. "Ok, so, basically that's how it works. You have that gun with the tube. You have that big back-pack like container. You press this button here-" I showed them, making sure everyone had a look, "Then you turn it to the level of flame you want to have… and now, you do this:" I faced the target and took a small breath.

Then I squeezed the trigger and a big flame came out. It burned the little straw-guy while everyone gasped.

"It's like carrying a dragon!" I heard someone say. I glanced to Daenerys, who rolled her eyes at the comment but said nothing. I saw the Hound was terrified. He looked like he had PTSD by the way he looked at the flames. Jon and Davos hurried with buckets of water to put the fire off.

"Sorcery! That is magic!" Tormund said in his heavy accent and stroke his beard. "How are you doing that? That little thing spits so much fire."

Baric at his side with the eye patch stroke his beard. "The Lord of Light is shown in so many places…" I rolled my eyes at them.

"No, guys. We don't have magic. We have technology. Science." I tried to explain. The young man with the black hair I saw before came closer to take a better look at the flamethrower. He had a subtle of beard and a bit of excitement in his eyes. "I can see… It's men-made, but how? The paint work… The metal work… I don't believe I've seen any smith's work compared to this."

I quirked an eyebrow. "That's because it's not a smith's work. A machine made it. A human invented and designed it, but to make stuff so perfect humans created machines to do the work."

"Machines?" He asked. I saw it was hard for him to understand. I really tried to explain it, though.

"Gendry, we'll talk about it later. It doesn't matter if it's men-made or a product of sorcery as long as it spits fire and burns wights and walkers." Jon decided. "There is also a small version of it." Jon said and took a blowtorch out of his cape. How the hell did he manage to keep it in there?

"Yeah, we usually use it for meringue and other fancy dishes but I figured you can also kill some zombies with it." I said with a smirk.

"Zombies," Jaime said with a quirked eyebrow, "You keep saying that word like it means something."

I blinked at him, crossing my arms. "Well, where I come from, it's a pretty cool name for a living-dead being."

"Cool? What do you mean when you say it's 'cool'?" He asked again with the same curious-yet-arrogant expression. I didn't know you can be both at the same time. "If you ask me it's freezing. And 'zombie' is not a very threatening word either."

I scoffed at him, "No, because 'walkers' is just making me shiver with fear. Seriously, people. It sounds like a name for lost old people on a boardwalk in the early morning."

"President of what are you, exactly?" Jaime asked again, challenging.

I pressed my lips, "Well-

"Andie!" Jon stopped me, "Focus."

"Oh, right. Blowtorches. Go for it."

Jon stared disapprovingly in my direction for a moment, then went back to demonstrate. Then some people tried to use the flamethrowers and the blowtorches.

"The problem is," I said. "Those things don't last forever. Each have a gas tank… the gas is what feeds the flames. When the container is empty, you'll be out of fire."

"So we can't really practice using those… blowtorches." Brienne said.

"No, sadly. It's the most we could bring." I said. I wish I could get them a whole building of flamethrowers, I really do. I wish I could get one for every resident of the north.

Jon stepped in again. "We need brave men and women who are willing to face great danger, and stand at the front, burning as many wights as you can."

Then it dawned on me. I never thought in a big-battle way. I was mostly working by myself, or with a small unit. But when I come to think about it, you can't use flamethrowers while fighting at the side of your friends. The fire is too big. You'll burn people who are too close. The burn the ice zombies, the people who use the flamethrowers will have to fight at the front, with no living-people in the way. Those who will use it, will have to be the bravest. It's a suicide mission.

Then I thought of Daenerys and her dragons, that also need to make sure they're not burning anyone on their side. That's crazy.

People started to volunteer. Dothraki, Unsullied, Westerosi soldiers from different houses-they wanted to burn as many wights as possible.

"I'll do it," Bronn stepped forward as well. "There's no running from those fuckers, might as well burn with 'em."

I saw Jaime look at him with shock. Hmm, maybe it's unusual behavior for him.

The special task force was left in the yard while the others went back inside. I looked at those brave people and sighed. It just sucks to know that those people will probably die.

I felt useless in the bakery. Yes, I baked two-hundred rolls a morning. Yes, I was cheering the other bakers up.

But I knew I could do so much more. I could actually help in the war. I had skills. I was still practicing with Arya and sometimes with Brienne as well. I got better with a bow and an arrow, knifes and even fencing swords. The big two-handed ones were harder. I had to use so much force to pick one up, I forgot about keeping my stance.

But still, I was on baking duty every fucking morning for a week. A week.

A week of me kneading dough while people are risking their lives in the front. A week of barely talking to Jon because both of us were still pissed off. A week of being stuck inside that castle walls, however big it was-I started to feel trapped. I knew the godswood, the greenhouse, the library-where I usually found Sam. It was cool. It was pretty.

It was a fucking living in a dark version of Disneyworld, but I didn't have the freedom of choice on which ride I'm taking.

I walked around the godswood when I met Ghost. I gave him a friendly pat on the back and we walked together.

"Your dad is an idiot," I told him. "I mean, no offence. I know he thinks he's protecting me. But there is a reason I'm here." We stopped in front of the big weirwood. "There must be a real reason for it, and it can't be kneading bread."

I stared at the creepy face in the tree trunk. Ghost shoved his big nuzzle at me, asking for more petting. I sighed and brushed my fingers in the fur behind his ears.

I turned my head up to the cloudy skies and took a big breath in, and then I heard it again.

The same cry I heard when I arrived here.

I searched for it in the sky. Not 'it', him. And then I saw the shadow.

The dragon was huge. Maybe even bigger than a whale. He soared in the sky in a way too graceful for a creature his size, but it was hypnotizing. He was far, very far up there. I couldn't see his colors properly, but it was enough for me. A motherfucking dragon. A real one.

And then I looked at Ghost and smiled, an idea forming in my mind. "Well, maybe your dad is a king." I looked again at the sky. "But their mom is the queen."

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~A Girl Had Many Names~