I won't lie, there was a time that I never thought I'd get to the end of this story. I always pushed it back for ideas I liked more and so it's taken me over 4 years to get to this point. But finally the end is in sight, I've got 2 more chapters after this one to upload and then the story of Tyland and Loren Lannister is done.

I've never really gone into a great deal of detail with the Red Keep before, but to visualise it in this chapter I've used the map from Joanna Lannister's tumblr blog for the outsides of the buildings, which I believe is the basis for the Westeroscraft version of the castle.

I hope you all enjoy what was a really fun one to write. I own nothing but the OC's, all the actual characters and locations belong to George R R Martin or HBO.

Loren could only stand in shock as he watched the green flames rise high above the walls of the city. Everything in front of him just seemed to burn green and from over the walls he could already hear the screams of Myrcella amplified a thousand-fold. It was only after his Uncle pulled roughly on his arm that Loren was broken out of his stupor. Men, women and children were all running from the city in both Lannister garbs and civilian clothes. Loren looked to the left and saw the same thing happening with the Valemen in the distance, as well as the Reachmen to his right.

"We need sand." Loren said, his voice cracking with horror. He sniffed, stopping himself from getting too emotional. "The Mud Gate. We need as much as we can carry."

"Buckets!" Captain Vylarr called from behind Loren, and his guard didn't wait to be dismissed before they all mounted horses and rode towards the onrushing survivors to bark out orders.

Loren looked down to his left and saw his Uncle, his jaw tightly clenched as well as his fist. Looking back up to the city the Lannister Lord saw one of the dragons circling around the burning area before they retreated once more, joining the other dragon outside of the walls in the distance. "We need to go to the Dragon Gate." Loren surmised.

"The city is burning!" Tyrion cried out. "We need to evacuate, we can try again another day."

"No!" Loren roared, turning angrily on his Uncle. "She dies today! Wildfire is her only trick and who knows how much of the city she has laced with it!" Loren stamped his cane into the ground and grabbed Red Rain from the tent before he started limping towards a horse.

"My Lord…" One of the camp Maester's had seen him. "Your leg…"

"Fuck off!" Loren roared again. "Go and help the burn victims Maester, soldiers and smallfolk. I will be fine." He struggled to mount the horse the first time around, but the second time he managed to get up onto the mare's back and settled into the seat. He trotted back around to the tent to see Tyrion mounted along with his Stormlander guard. It was uncomfortable, but he only made it about 40 yards before he was being hailed by a group of Westerlanders. Noticing his Uncle Lyle and Eldrick Sarsfield, Loren galloped over there. "Uncle!" He cried.

Lyle Crakehall was angry. He didn't have his chest plate on anymore and his hair was blackened. "Armour caught fire. I'm ok." Lyle muttered. "Not many are…"

"We lost the vanguard, Loren. All of it." Eldrick explained. Looking around it looked like the entire archer party had survived. "Ser Kevan…"

Loren's heart sunk. Another Lannister lost. "He lived a good life, that's not the way he should have gone." Loren said solemnly.

"Ser Addam too, and Lord Westerling." Eldrick said. "Lyle's unit was lucky, they somehow got out of the area on fire just on time."

Loren clenched his fist and hit his good leg. "Fuck!" He exclaimed. Too much death. "I'm going to see the Queen. We need to end this now." He thought for a moment. "Did Lord Forley survive?"

Forley Prester was possibly the most senior Lord Loren had left in the Westerlands now after the devastation of all of the battles. Lyle nodded. "He was helping evacuate the smallfolk to the river last I saw."

"Have him command the efforts to put out the fire. Bury it with sand, not water." Loren stated. "Then both of you join me with the Queen."

"As you say, My Lord." Eldrick bowed. They immediately ran off to do as they had been asked, and so Loren whipped the reigns and painfully galloped around the city, directing smallfolk and surviving Valemen to aide with the efforts by the river.

They were joined by half a dozen riders from the Vale flying Royce and Corbray banners, when finally they got to the main command tent. It took a while for Loren to get down but once he did he stormed into the tent, happy to see it in full planning mode. "What the fuck happened?" Loren asked furiously.

"Your fucking aunt, Lannister." Lyonel Corbray, Loren recognised, spat.

"Lord Corbray." The man in Royce colours, but not the Bronze Yohn, warned. "Now isn't the time."

"His family killed Lyn, Andar." Lyonel spat again.

"We've all been killing one another for years." Jon said firmly. Loren thought he looked tired. "Now we are on the same side."

Loren nodded. "We all want Cersei dead in this tent. We need to do it today."

"We can't get through." Daenerys said, staring at the map of the city. She basically spilled ink over the majority of the south. "This is what is currently on fire, that will spread."

Both roads up to Aegon's High Hill had been covered. "She's sitting up there thinking she's untouchable." Andar Royce snarled with gritted teeth. "While my Father and thousands other burned to death."

"She's not untouchable." Tyrion said, his voice sounding hollow. "She thinks she's clever, but she doesn't know the secrets of the Red Keep. She doesn't understand the tunnels."

A silence fell over them all. "Tunnels." Daenerys asked pointedly.

Tyrion nodded. "Maegor the Cruel was paranoid, he had hundreds of miles worth of tunnels placed all over the city and then killed anybody who worked on them. Not many people can navigate them anymore."

"You're telling us this now?" Andar asked, incensed, as the tent gained one more occupant in Loras Tyrell. His normally pristine and shiny armour was singed black, and his usually flowing cape was ripped and burned halfway down his back.

"Lord Tyrell, I am glad you survived." Daenerys said, genuinely happy.

"I was lucky." Loras said angrily. "Not many were. Is there a plan of retaliation?"

Everyone looked back at Tyrion, who sighed. "I didn't think to mention it earlier as Cersei would have still seen us coming. Had I have known about her plans…"

"Thousands died, dwarf!" Lyonel Corbray shouted. "Thousands!"

"Now let us make sure nobody else needs to!" Jon called out above everyone. "Where are these tunnels?"

Tyrion shifted up onto a chair so that he could lean over the map. "The ones I used to escape…" He thought for a moment before pointing to a spot in a cove by the Iron Gate. "Here. It will lead us to the Tower of the Hand."

Loren closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "We can infiltrate there and take the Red Keep from within."

"We don't have enough men to put the fire out and take the Red Keep." Loras explained.

"We have the Northmen and the Dornish within the city, the fires didn't burn past the Street of Sisters." Jon explained. "They can help fight the fire."

"I have a full company of archers." Loren offered.

"Do we trust the Lannister?" Corbray asked with a scowl. "He may turn on us and join his aunt."

Loren was sick of it all and whipped his cane around to strike the Corbray in the face and sending him to the floor. Hands went to weapons, but Daenerys' warning stopped them from being drawn. "I may be crippled at the moment, Corbray, but I could still put you in the dirt easily. Don't test me, not now."

"Lord Loren has as much reason to want his Aunt dead as any of us do, maybe even more." Daenerys said coldly. "We are allies here, My Lords."

Corbray got to his feet, shaking his head. "Never trust a Lannister." He spat on the ground, storming out of the room.

Andar Royce sighed. "He is bitter, but he is loyal. I apologise, Your Grace." He then turned to the rest of the tent. "I will go on behalf of the Vale."

"I want to see her die." Loras whispered harshly.

"Get in line." Loren scoffed.

Jon turned to Daenerys. "You should stay in the sky. Cersei might try something while we are helping the city. Just… don't use fire if you can help it."

Daenerys chuckled, nodding. "You will lead the assault party then." She stated. "Take the archers, take Lord Andar and his men."

"I have a dozen that will come with us." Loras said firmly.

"And I suppose I am the guide." Tyrion groaned.

"And I'm going too." Loren said firmly.

Tyrion shook his head. "No, not a chance. You can barely walk."

"I can walk well enough." Loren stated coldly. "And I can fight if needed, but Cersei is a Lannister of Casterly Rock. As Lord of the castle, she is my problem."

Daenerys looked concerned. "I don't like it." She admitted. "But I promised you your vengeance in exchange for your loyalty. So far I have never had cause to doubt your word, if you feel capable I will not stop you."

Loren bowed his head. "Your Grace." He said, content at that.

"Gather everyone by the Iron Gate as quickly as you can." Jon told them all firmly. "By nightfall, the Red Keep will be ours."

The worst part of the tunnel into the Red Keep wasn't the lengthy walk for Loren, it was the winding steps as they ascended into the Tower of the Hand. By the time that he had reached the top and exited the torchlit tunnels into the Hand's bedroom, he needed to sit down for a moment. There were 50 of them, with the surprising warrior being a blonde Stormlander woman in bronze armour that was the only one to agree to protect Tyrion.

"This is the Tower of the Hand." Tyrion explained. "Maegor's Holdfast is over there." He pointed out of a window at the large keep that housed the many rooms. "Cersei might be there, or she might be in the Throne Room." He shrugged. "The Throne Room could be stormed, Maegor's Holdfast less so."

"There are tunnels leading to Maegor's, no?" Jon asked. Tyrion nodded. He looked around at the group. "Then Lord Tyrell, Lord Royce. You two follow Lord Tyrion through the tunnels and take the Holdfast. Only kill those that attack you."

Loras nodded first, slowly followed by the Valeman. Tyrion however shook his head. "I don't know the tunnels well…"

"Better than the rest of us." Loren commented. "Go, Uncle. Take Eldrick too, with the archers." That was the vast majority of their forces, but Maegor's was a tough keep to assault.

"That just leaves you and Ser Lyle, My Lord." Eldrick reminded him.

Tyrion sighed. "Fine, but take Brienne. Lady Shireen keeps telling me that she is our finest warrior from the Stormlands." He turned to the woman. "Time to prove it."

Brienne nodded, standing rigid. "My Lord."

Jon also agreed with that. "The Queen told me about how she saw you leading the defence of the wooden wall during the Long Night. I would be glad to have you at my side."

Brienne bowed her head. "You honour me, My Lord."

"We should get moving." Andar Royce suggested, the runes on his silver armour seemingly shining in non-existent light.

Tyrion just groaned. "Fine! I can probably get us to the dungeons, and then we'll have to cross Traitor's Walk…" He looked at Loren. "Stay alive, nephew."

"Only if you do." Loren grinned as he hauled himself up, only to be settled by his maternal uncle resting his large Crakehall hand on Loren's shoulder.

"Fantastic." Tyrion muttered sarcastically. "Come on then, let us lead ourselves to our inevitable death…" His voice drowned out as he led the mass exodus of 46 people back down the secret passageway that they had arrived in.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Jon asked Loren. The Lannister just nodded and withdrew Red Rain so that it was ready if he needed it. "Very well."

It was a slow movement as the four crept down the Tower of the Hand not wanting to be caught this early, but the entire building seemed to be empty. As they left the Tower and got to the lower courtyard they had to hide behind a smaller building before making their way up a separate tower that led to the walls. From there they crept towards the upper courtyard, avoiding the few Goldcloaks that had been brought inside the castle to defend it, and after another tower descent they sneaked behind the back and around the Throne Room, until Jon tried a door that was locked. "Fuck." He whispered before ducking back around the building as three Goldcloaks ran deeper into the castle towards Maegor's.

Loren, however, had noticed something a few yards back. "Here." He called quietly to the rest of them, pulling them back to a window. "This was the old Small Council chambers." He explained, before he heard a dragon cry from within the actual city and used the noise to mask his gauntleted fist slamming into the glass, shattering it. "Through here." Brienne went first, and when she called that it was clear Jon followed. Loren didn't even get a chance to jump the ledge when he felt arms guide themselves under his armpits and hoist him over. Turning back to Lyle Crakehall, he just gave his uncle a glare.

"We're here." Jon's voice sounded rather loudly from the next room. Loren had already been in the Throne Room dozens of time, so he barely gave the Iron Throne a second glance when he went through the doorway and instead his eyes went to the Lannister Lion above it where the Seven Pointed Star had once sat in the window. "All this bloodshed, all this death. Over this?"

"It's a symbol." Loren told him.

"It's disappointing." Jon countered. "I was told stories of thousands of swords being forged into a throne."

Loren had spent enough time in the room when he was younger to know the real answer. "There isn't even 200. My Grandfather once explained that the story had been exaggerated, and instead of every sword the Conqueror only used those of the Lords that surrendered in battle…" Their attention was turned away from the Iron Throne as the doors swung open and in stepped 5 men dressed in black armour surrounding a crimson clad Cersei Lannister, a crown atop her head. They stopped in shock at the rooms occupants, and the four that had already been in the room stood in a defensive line below the stairs to the Throne. Loren broke the silence as he stared his aunt down. "Aunt Cersei."

"Nephew." Cersei smiled, though her eyes were darting to any potential escape routes. "How did you get in here?"

"Your Grace." A voice that Loren recognised sounded from one of the knights, the Kettleblack. "We should leave."

Loren turned to his right, where Lyle Crakehall was almost frothing at the mouth in anger. "Make sure she doesn't get away, but I want her alive."

Lyle just smirked. "With pleasure."

The Lord of Casterly Rock then turned back to his aunt, speaking to the group of Queensguard with her. "Surrender now and swear yourselves to Daenerys of the House Targaryen, or you will die where you stand."

One scoffed, which made Cersei smirk. "We outnumber you, dear nephew, and you are crippled." Her eyes fell on Brienne then. "And I don't know what that is."

"You will do." Brienne growled.

"Charming." Cersei mocked. "None of you will make it out of here alive." She turned dramatically and began to walk back out of the Throne Room, which was the moment that the calmness left.

Loren lifted up his cane and pressed the nose of the lion handle, and a small golden dart shot out of the bottom and struck the Kettleblack Knight in the throat, causing the man to drop his sword as his hands flung themselves to his new wound before he dropped to his knees and collapsed on the ground. Lyle then let out a bellowing roar and charged, closing the gap and knocking two men over as he chased the Lannister Queen.

The others joined in the fight then. Loren could only stumble forwards as his frostbitten leg would only carry him so quickly, and so in the time it took him to close the gap between him and the Queensguard, Brienne and Jon had already engaged opponents. Jon was facing off against someone half again bigger than he was, while Brienne quickly dispatched one Queensguard knight with a hack to the neck and was deep in a duel with another.

That was all Loren could watch as he faced off against the final Queensguard knight. He tapped his pauldrons with Red Rain for luck before holding it outstretched pointed at the man. He could barely see the arrogant smirk from behind his helmet, but Loren just growled as he waited for the inevitable lunge, parrying the man's blade downwards before twisting Red Rain back up in a flash, impaling it through the Queensguard's jaw.

As he withdrew his sword and wiped it clean on his breeches, he saw Brienne helping Jon up from the ground, her sword embedded in the larger Queensguard's back. "Thanks." Jon panted, and Loren looked around simply to see everybody in black armour had died.

"Don't mention it." Brienne waved away, as she pulled her sword out of the body and wiped it clean herself. The trio just stood there for a moment wondering what to do next when shrieks and screams could be heard growing closer. Loren gripped Red Rain tighter as he leant more heavily on his cane in tiredness, but thankfully the large frame of Lyle Crakehall came into view with a woman over his shoulders. He walked further into the room and dropped her unceremoniously on the stone floor, leering over her daring to move.

Jon was the one to step closer to her. "Your reign is over." He told her. "Surrender now and…"

"She's mine." Loren interrupted, the echoing of his cane filling the room as he stepped closer to his aunt. "There are no debates here, Jon. I was promised my vengeance by the Queen herself."

Jon clenched his jaw, but he nodded his head the once. "Lady Brienne, we need to open the Red Keep gates." He called out, walking past Loren on his way out of the room, only to stop beside the Lannister and rest his hand on Loren's shoulder. He didn't need to say anything, Loren knew he was warning him about the dangers of what was about to happen and so the Lannister just nodded, waiting for the pair of footsteps to subside.

"Now it's just us." Loren snarled, getting closer to his aunt. "Did you know you murdered most of House Crakehall as well as Myrcella? And Uncle Kevan too, he was in the city you exploded."

"She shouldn't have been there." Cersei spat, the latter statement just registering in her mind. "She wouldn't have been if it hadn't been for you!"

Loren just shook his head. "You drove her away, you drove your brothers away. You've slayed kin and murdered thousands. You deserve what is coming."

Cersei smirked. "Kinslaying, an idea that lesser people frown upon. But not us, not the Imp when he murdered my Father, not me now I suppose with Uncle Kevan being an unfortunate casualty in your needless offense. Nor you, Loren, when you join me in slaying your own kin just to finish me off."

Loren smirked. "I'm not killing you." He explained with a quick glance to Lyle. "I'm not even going to order it." He turned around, so his back was to his Aunt. "But you didn't just kill Lannisters in your mad lust to keep power."

He couldn't see a thing, but Loren heard it all as his aunt began to whimper. "No, no please, no!" He listened as he heard his uncle lift Cersei off of the ground, and he could hear her struggling for breath as Lyle Crakehall held Cersei in the air by the neck, squeezing until the gasping and choking stopped, and a body hit the floor.

Jon left the Throne Room knowing exactly what was about to happen. Thankfully as he and Brienne made their way towards the barbican the Goldcloaks there were in disarray, so the pair didn't even need to fight to get the gates open and the drawbridge lowered. From then on everything seemed to become a blur. The city was still burning as the two dragons flew overhead and landed in the courtyard, followed by the Northmen and Dornish forces who had been away from the fires. Jon barely said a word as he followed Daenerys into the Throne Room once again, to see Cersei Lannister lying lifeless on the floor beneath the Iron Throne while Loren and Lyle Crakehall sat on the steps up to the Gallery.

They stood up when they noticed that it was Daenerys standing before them, and while Lyle bent his knee, Loren just stood up leaning heavily on his cane. "Your Grace." The Lannister said emotionlessly. He gestured to the Iron Throne. "The Seven Kingdom's are yours."

Jon could tell that Dany was hiding her emotions too as she stared up at the Iron Throne. Everybody stood still as the Targaryen Queen took one step towards it, then another, and then another. She stepped over the body of Cersei Lannister and climbed the steps, letting her fingers brush the hilt of the Throne's left arm before she gripped it fully. Turning, her hand still on the hilt, she lowered herself into the Iron Throne. Jon fell to one knee as did the rest of the rooms now numerous occupants.

"Rise." She stated calmly, and Jon did as she commanded. "This is a devastating victory. Celebrations will wait, our job now is to calm the fires until they are snuffed out and to rebuild this city. I have taken the throne with Fire and Blood, but I will rule from it with mercy." She looked at Jon. "Take as many men as you can and secure the entire castle. Pronounce to the Red Keep that Cersei Lannister is dead and that any Goldcloak that surrenders will be spared."

"Your Grace." Jon bowed.

"Lord Lannister." Daenerys then turned before Jon could do anything more. "Despite being our enemy, Lady Cersei was also a noble from Casterly Rock. If you would have it, you may bury her with dignity."

Jon noticed that Loren scowled at the body. "Your Grace, the only dignity that woman had died with her children. I make no claim on her, use the corpse to feed the dragons for all I care."

Jon gulped and decided that he didn't want any part of that, so he turned and gestured silently for the warriors to follow him and end this disastrous battle once and for all.

308 AC

It took three days for the fires to die down within the city and the clearing of the rubble to begin. By the end of week three with everybody within the city helping out the entire southern section of King's Landing had been cleared and already work was beginning on the rebuilding of a Great Sept on the top of Visenya's Hill. Loren had managed to negotiate with Daenerys to send in five million gold dragons from Casterly Rock to help with the rebuilding, reparations for his families past crimes against the people of Westeros.

It was only after that agreement had been made that Daenerys decided to set a date of the first day of the new year for her official coronation and guests from all over Westeros had been flooding into the Red Keep for it. Loren stayed in the city for the months leading up to the coronation, overseeing some of the building work while also putting into place a plan to rebuild the royal fleet and the Goldcloak forces. It was work that only served to distract him for the most part, but as the city was being moulded back into a Targaryen stronghold, it was clear to the Lannister that his families time within the city was over.

The other major thing to happen in the time between the battles and the coronation was with Jon Snow. Daenerys had gathered all the Lords Paramount and Lord Edric Dayne, who with both Queen Daenerys' and Prince Doran's blessing had married the newly legitimised Tyene Martell in order to become a legitimate heir to Dorne, in the Small Council room and explained the truth, that Jon Snow was really Aegon Targaryen, the trueborn son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen. That had shocked the Lannister, but the group on the whole had accepted it well enough and despite some pushback from the Dornish contingent, Jon was slotting into his new life as a Prince and the Master of Laws as well as could be expected. He had also announced a betrothal between himself and Margaery Tyrell, a match that surprised nobody.

All in all however, as Loren stood on a corridor balcony staring out into the city, he truly felt like things were getting better and peace felt like it might actually be sustainable. Loren knew that he had no wish to go out on a campaign any time soon and all he wanted to do was go home to see his daughter and his newborn son and mourn their losses with Cerenna.

Loren was looking at the construction upon Visenya's hill when he heard footsteps walking up behind him. "My Lord does not wish for company." Captain Vylarr said firmly, with a hostility that Loren wasn't used to. Turning to face the noise, Loren was shocked to see the red hair of his Father's second wife staring back at him.

"It's ok, Vylarr." Loren said. "Let her pass." Vylarr stood still for just a moment longer than necessary before stepping aside and allowing Sansa to walk beyond him to join Loren at the balcony. "I never expected to see you again, My Lady." Loren told her.

"I didn't either." Sansa admitted. "But I was asked to attend the ceremony, we arrived this morning."

We. "Arthur is here." Loren surmised bluntly.

"Artos." Sansa snapped. "He may look like a Lannister, but he is a Stark." It was said with such ferocity that it fired up the anger Loren had felt before about his Father's death.

"You have nerve, Lady Sansa." Loren snarled. "I know what you did. I once swore to myself that I would gut my Father's killer with my own hands." His right hand found its way to Red Rain.

"Jon knows I am here with you." Sansa said, standing firmly. "If I don't return…" She let the warning settle.

Loren took a deep breath and pulled his hand away. "Too much bloodshed." He whispered, before snapping back. "What do you want."

"To allow you to get your feelings out before the ceremony." Sansa said firmly. "Seeing me would have been a shock given that you know what happened, this way you expect my presence."

He was thankful of that, seeing Sansa in the middle of the Great Hall would have probably led to him angrily confronting her and causing a scene. "My brother? Will I get to meet him?" Loren asked.

Sansa shook her head. "Not unless he chooses so himself knowing full well what your family are and have done to me and mine. If I had my way he will never meet a Lannister." She spat, before sighing. "You were kind to me as a prisoner, My Lord, but I will never forget the torment the rest of you put me and my sister through for years."

Loren wanted to rage, to carve the Stark girl in half where she stood. "Too much bloodshed." He whispered to himself again. "I have a gift for him, for when he comes of age."

"No." Sansa said firmly.

"Calm down, Lady Sansa." Loren rolled his eyes. "It's a Stark heirloom, of sorts. Half of your Father's sword became Widow's Wail, I understand the Queen has stated that that blade is to be Rickon's to do with as he wishes. The other half became Pride, and I have that in my possession. It will be Arthur's when he comes of age."

Sansa gulped, but she nodded. "Very well." They stood in silence for a moment. "That is all I have to say to you, Lord Lannister." Sansa said, as she began to twirl away.

"I know you feel justified in your actions, My Lady." Loren called after her, watching as she stopped in place. "But in the unlikely chance you wish to visit the Westerlands, so long as I live I will not allow it. If Arthur wishes to visit his family in the West then he will always be welcomed at Casterly Rock, without you."

He could see that Sansa's jaw had clenched. "Artos." She growled, before walking away with pace. Loren curled his hand into a fist and slammed it on the stone banister, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down.

"My Lord?" Vylarr asked.

"I'm alright, Vylarr." Loren replied. "No matter how much I wish she could pay for what she did, I can't take it upon myself unless I want to drag us into another war." He sighed. "Let's get this over with, then we can go home."

Vylarr bowed. "Very good My Lord." He said, stepping aside to allow Loren to lead them towards the Throne Room where the Queen was about to be officially crowned.

It felt like the entire realm had descended on the Throne Room as the crowds began to gather. Loren was stood to one side beside his new Lordly cousin Lord Martyn Crakehall as he surveyed the room. He spotted Sansa first of course, noticing her red hair and the large blonde toddler in her arms. It took all his willpower not to move towards them. Instead he looked around some more, noticing Lord Dayne stood with a scowling Tyene Martell, then moving to also see Lord Andar Royce speaking to the young Lord Arryn, before Loren looked closer to the Iron Throne as Jon Snow uncomfortably shared a conversation with his new betrothed.

His people watching came to an end as the doors opened and in walked Daenerys, dressed in a beautiful black dress with a long crimson train. The Queen was being flanked by her new Queensguard, back in their traditional white scaled armour and white cloaks. Leading the new guard was Lord Commander Brienne of Tarth, proudly standing beside her Queen as they got closer to the Iron Throne.

Another new appointment was that of the High Septon, the old one having perished in the destruction of the Sept of Baelor. This man had a long grey beard that reminded Loren of Pycelle, though the High Septon wasn't anywhere near as feeble. He gestured for Daenerys to kneel before the Iron Throne, and he began the ceremony.

It took ages, but finally the High Septon held the newly forged ornate golden circlet into the air. "In the light of the Seven, I now proclaim Daenerys of the House Targaryen, the First of her Name. Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. Long may she reign!"

"Long may she reign!" Loren called out along with the entirety of the gathered crowd, half-heartedly joining in the applause as Daenerys rose to her feet and sat down on the Iron Throne, the two Targaryen banners either side her making her look every part the Valyrian ruler.

Thankfully as a Lord Paramount Loren was one of the first in the line to swear his allegiance. He had to wait for Loras Tyrell to finish first, but he soon got to the front of the line and bent the knee. "The Westerlands are yours, Your Grace."

"Thank you, Lord Lannister." Daenerys replied formally. "I have a request of you, if you would hear it now."

It would have been rude not to. "Of course." Loren responded.

"Your tactics and strategies have been extremely valuable throughout my reign. I wish to keep you here as my Master of War, ready to counter any potential threats to my Throne." Daenerys explained. Loren sighed, and Daenerys gave him a wry smile. "This does not please you."

"I am honoured, Your Grace, but I cannot accept." Loren told her. "This city… it's rotted under Lannister influence for almost forty years in total and my predecessors didn't exactly die well liked. I think it is best that we return to our isolation in the West. This city needs fresh blood, and you have plenty of capable tacticians to choose as your Master of War. Lord Tarly perhaps."

Daenerys nodded in understanding. "I will think on your suggestion." She told him, before a look of reminiscence hit her. "Considering where we started, it feels strange to be disappointed at your answer, but I understand. I trust that in times of war we can still count on you?"

Loren smirked. "Hopefully that won't be necessary, Your Grace, but of course." He bowed his head.

"Then go and enjoy the festivities, and I will see you tomorrow before you leave." Daenerys told him. Loren chuckled at the knowledge of his plans, but he simply bowed his head before her and stepped off to the side so that young Lord Arryn could pledge himself. As he got up to the gallery and looked down on the party brewing below him, Loren smiled as the reality of him going home the next day finally sank in.

Firstly, the dead. Crossing over from last chapter we lost these named and relatively important characters: Kevan Lannister, Addam Marbrand, Gawen Westerling, Yohn Royce, Horton Redfort. Obviously thousands more died including some Reach characters, but none that have been mentioned before here.

We also lose the entirety of Cersei's Queensguard, the only one named being Osfryd Kettleblack, and Cersei herself. I doubt many of you will mourn either of them…

Cersei's death, I don't know if you caught it, was still within the realms of the Prophecy. All of her children died before her and she was strangled by a younger brother, the second of three brothers born to Lord Roland Crakehall. Loren knew he couldn't do it himself and so he left it to his uncle who had lost most of his family at Harrenhal when Cersei blew it up.

That final Cersei scene was really fun to plan and write. I knew Loren would be injured, and I knew that he wouldn't leave himself vulnerable while limping so of course someone as rich and tactically aware as he is now would have a surprise waiting. It also gave me a chance to properly introduce Brienne. She was involved in the Long Night of course, and so my personal head canon is that she escaped after Renly died to Tarth, and once everyone came together behind Shireen, I believe Shireen would have pardoned her after hearing her story.

Afterwards, there's the rebuilding. I've given some clues as to what has happened in the month's time skip but to recap and explain in more detail:

Loren agreed a reparation plan that would benefit the city. This is for all the wars including the Sack of King's Landing. He is also seeing a rebuild of Southern King's Landing, including a new Great Sept.

Jon, now revealed as a Targaryen and the Lord of Dragonstone to all that somehow failed to guess as he rode a dragon in two battles, accepted Loras' proposal to marry Margaery Tyrell.

Doran, left with no heirs, petitioned to have the last remaining HBO Sand Snake, Tyene, legitimised as she is the last remaining grandchild of Doran's mother. She has also married Lord Edric Dayne to give her some strength within Dorne.

And finally, the coronation. Lord Martyn Crakehall who stood next to Loren is an OC, the son of Tybolt Crakehall and the younger brother of Joanna Crakehall, the OC that married Lambert Turnberry.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, we only have two remaining now, one which will wrap up this timeline, and then the final one as I sometimes like to do in my stories is a look into the future, this time 328 AC.

Next Time: Our major surviving players settle into their new roles as the Targaryen Dynasty is officially restored.

Reviews:

DarylDixon'sLover: Jon isn't, Jaime died in Chapter 55.

Magna Bike: The difference is the last two times Wildfire was used was in the Battle of the Blackwater, out at sea so far away from civilian population, and at Harrenhal, which while it was under a truce was a castle filled with Cersei's enemies. To those following Daenerys it was unthinkable that Cersei would blow up part of her city with her people inside it. It was also a bit poetic to me in planning as Jaime back in Chapter 15 thought of Wildfire blowing the city up as his worst nightmare, and his twin does exactly what he stopped all those years ago.

Mischiefmaker: Sorry…

Wildk: They are not. I've hinted a few times at the person that has shared Daenerys' bed and will continue to do so.