This story is officially written… the epilogue is completed and I'll upload that next Friday, but now I'm looking at what to focus on now… The House of the Dragon teaser trailer has made me have another look at the Golden Dragon, and all of the uploaded chapters have been edited so it may be worth those that have already read it to go on a reread, but on the other hand I've also had the first few chapters of As High as Honour: Fire and Fury written for a while now and that's less of an ambitious story…

I'll come to a decision soon I am sure, but until then please enjoy the final two chapters of this story as things get wrapped up!

I own nothing of any actual characters or locations, they all belong to HBO or George R R Martin.

As he stared into the mirror, Jon Snow… or Aegon Targaryen as those that had never met him before had started to call him at court, didn't recognise himself. He kept his dark hair in the style that his Father had always had it of course, but the clothes… they didn't feel like him. Spring had come and it was far too warm for Jon to wear his comforting wolfskin cloak, so he was there in black linens with golden vines snaking around as detail and on his back he wore a dark green cloak, the colour of his dragon. Even his new banner didn't feel like him, but he couldn't find the energy to argue with his soon to be wife against the dark green three headed dragon on a field of gold to both differentiate from the royal branch and to honour her family.

Sighing, Jon wished that Sansa had been able to stay, but his cousin had bad memories of the Red Keep and could only push those down for so long before she had to return to the North. Jon looked over to Ghost who was dozing off by the balcony. "Is it too late to run, boy?"

A knock on the door came at that moment, and Jon's Queensguard protector and one of only two surviving men of the order from before the Targaryen restoration, Ser Garth Hightower, entered. "Her Grace to see you, My Prince."

The new title made Jon's skin crawl, but he didn't have time to react audibly as from the doorway Jon could see both Brienne of Tarth and Grey Worm, both now in the amour of the Queensguard, making way for Daenerys to walk inside the spacious room looking absolutely resplendent. Jon bowed his head at her presence. "Your Grace."

"Please, not when it's just us." Daenerys shook her head as she walked towards him. "Just Dany when it's us."

Jon smirked. "Dany then."

"I came to see how you were doing." The Queen explained. "You look good."

"I feel ridiculous." Jon complained. "This isn't me, I'm not a southern poncey Lord looking for pleasantries and making nice with people. I'm a Northerner, a warrior."

Dany chuckled as she stopped a few inches away from him. "It's one day. Grin and bear it for one day to make your wife happy, then you can go back to being a dour Northman."

He didn't appreciate the joke. "What am I doing here?" He sighed. "This is wrong, I don't love this woman."

"Love has nothing to do with it." Dany's features hardened. "We've had this discussion, Jon. I do not feel that way, nor can I have children even if I did." She softened slightly and brought her hand to his. "Do your duty to House Targaryen, give her a few children and then never see her again, I care not. But the future of our House is on you." She leant up to kiss his cheek. "I will see you downstairs."

Nodding unhappily, Jon let her walk away. He turned back to Ghost who had perked up by now and was staring at him with his red eyes. Sighing, Jon picked up Longclaw and strapped it to his waist. "Let's get this over with." He said to the Direwolf. "Come, Ghost." He called, and the pair left the room so that Jon could begin the rest of his life.

It had been a long road back up to Winterfell from King's Landing, and upon seeing the great Northern castle Sansa Stark almost wished that she had stayed down south for longer. There was a breach in one of the walls that she noticed even from a great distance that men were already beginning to patch up, and the Wintertown was basically rubble. Thankfully there were no bodies to hide from Artos, but the sight brought her close to tears.

Entering the castle was no better, and building work was ongoing once again to repair the damage that had been left by the White Walkers. She did smile however at the sight of her curly haired younger brother, now a growing boy close to turning thirteen, swinging at Asher Forrester, the new Master at Arms of the castle. Rickon stopped as soon as he saw her and dropped his blunted tourney blade, rushing over to her and hugging her fiercely. "You're back!" He cried.

"I am." Sansa smiled, hugging Rickon back and watching as Mira embraced Asher again having not seen him since Dragonstone before all of the battles. "How are you?"

Rickon shrugged. "Fine, we had fun in the Vale. Our Aunt and our cousin are odd though." Sansa could only silently agree having met Lord Robin Arryn down at the coronation, but she had no chance to say that aloud as Rickon looked down at Artos and asked. "How is my nephew?"

Artos had just turned 4 as they crossed the Neck, and she had carved him a Direwolf out of some wood and she chuckled as the toddler sat himself on the floor comparing the wooden Direwolf to the lazy Shaggydog who was lying down by the walls. "He is well."

"Arya is in the war room." Rickon explained. "With the rest of the Council."

Sansa sighed. "Can you take Artos to his room please?" She asked her attendant.

Mira Forrester nodded her head, though Sansa was surprised to see Rickon say. "I can take him, we're just about done for today anyway, right Ash?"

Asher Forrester looked warningly at his Lord, but he nodded the once. "I want you to do your exercises before bed though, Lord Stark."

"Fine." Rickon groaned, before he looked down at his blonde nephew with a grin. "Come on Artie, do you want to ride on Shaggy's back?"

"Yes!" Artos cheered, running behind the Lord of Winterfell as fast as his little legs could carry him

Sansa watched them both go towards the Direwolf laughing, and her face turned stern as she looked at the Forrester siblings. "Mira, could you make sure he's settled please? I promise you can catch up properly later."

Mira nodded. "My Lady. Brother." She excused herself before chasing after the two boys. "Artos Stark, careful!"

Sansa chuckled, before turning to Asher again. "The Council are meeting?"

Asher nodded. "They do so every day, the North is in the middle of rebuilding and things are happening almost constantly."

"I should go." Sansa sighed.

"Allow me to escort you, My Lady." Asher gestured towards the castle, and Sansa allowed her attendant's brother to catch her up on most things that had happened, mainly which castles needed more building work than others and which Houses now had new Lords.

She was announced into the war room with everybody stood over a central table, a map of the North rolled out. All eyes turned to her as she entered and took her place in between her sister and Lady Wylla Manderly. "My Lords, My Ladies, forgive the interruption."

"Your presence could have waited, Lady Sansa." Robett Glover said kindly. "You must be weary from your journey."

"Somewhat, but the North is more important than my comfort, Lord Glover." Sansa smiled. "King's Landing is rebuilding, and so must we. What are we discussing?"

"Bear Island." Arya told her, placing her hand on her sisters in greeting. "Some of us believe that we should ignore the Queen and give it to a loyal family."

Wyman Manderly scoffed. "It's an insult! The man is a slaver."

"I spoke with Queen Daenerys about this very issue. She dismissed all my concerns and told me that her decision will stand." Sansa told them all unhappily. "But Jon also told me that Jorah Mormont has promised never to step foot in the North again, and that when his firstborn is able to be away from his Mother he will foster the child at both Winterfell and Deepwood Motte to learn the ways of the North." She looked over at Lord Glover who just nodded curtly.

"I remember his first wedding, is the bitch still living?" Barbrey Dustin asked.

"It has been dissolved." Sansa explained. "Mormont has since married Lady Stokeworth's younger sister."

Wylla nodded. "That's settled then, though we still need to send a regent to rule in the traitor's place."

"Send Whoresbane." Harald Karstark responded. "Last Hearth doesn't need two castellans now that Ned is growing."

There were no disagreements in the room, so Howland Reed wrote that down on his parchment. "The final thing we should talk about now Lady Sansa is here is the Dreadfort."

There was a chill in the air at the mention of that castle. "Destroy it, we can use the stone to rebuild our castles." Jonelle Cerwyn snarled, and Sansa remembered that she had lost both her Father and brother to the Bolton's.

"It sits on good land, important land." Wyman Manderly shook his head. "We could always split the land between White Harbour, Karhold and Winterfell…"

"No." Lyessa Flint said firmly. "I'm already bordered by you fuckers, I'm not being surrounded by you."

"Rickon made his wishes clear." Arya told them all firmly.

The room grew tense. "My Lady…" Wyman began.

"I'm no Lady." Arya countered.

"Your nephew is a Lannister." Robett Glover said sharply. "What if we give him the title Lord of the Dreadfort and he grows up thinking that he should have had Winterfell instead as the Lannisters had wanted?"

"Say that my son is a Lannister one more time, Lord Glover, and you shall meet the same fate as his Father." Sansa snarled, causing the larger, bald man to wince. "He is a Stark."

"Narrow his lands." Wylla suggested. She held out a hand for Howland Reed to place a quill into and started marking new borders, shrinking the Bolton lands. "Give this bit to Winterfell, this bit to Hornwood, this bit to Lady Flint, and this bit to Lord Karstark."

"That could work." Barbrey nodded. "The young Stark wouldn't have as many villages to call upon, for war or for taxes if he did grow up to resent his uncle."

Sansa didn't like the suggestion of betrayal, though liked the idea to keep peace. "There are other deserving Houses too that can be granted the Dreadfort, we are happy in Winterfell."

"Rickon insisted." Arya countered again. "He's a smart boy, he knows that Artos was given Winterfell by the Lannisters. He felt by giving him an empty castle and by having him grow up here, we can end the last thousand years of animosity between the Dreadfort and Winterfell."

Sansa was impressed with her youngest brother, and it seemed the majority of the Council were too. "All in favour?" Howland asked. The only two that weren't were Lady Cerwyn and Lord Manderly, presumably as he wanted land. "Then it passes, I shall send a raven to King's Landing with our plans and hope for a confirmation from the Queen soon."

"Now are we done?" Arya asked impatiently. Everyone nodded. "Good." She grabbed Sansa by the hand and led her away from the room, and Sansa could only laugh at her sisters antics as she was taken away, pleased that Winterfell and the North were in very capable hands.

While it had been many months since Daenerys had taken the Iron Throne from Tyrion's sister, finally, a fortnight after the wedding of Aegon Targaryen and Margaery Tyrell, the full Council were due to meet after the choosing of a Master of Coin. Tyrion was glad of that, having had to double those duties with his own as Hand up until now.

He was the first in the Small Council chambers, now back in the chamber behind the Throne Room, and the Lannister dwarf was ensuring that everything was ready for the arrival of the Small Council. All of the chairs now had different objects stitched for their roles. At either head of the table were the Hand and the Queen's chairs. Tyrion then took time to look at the other chairs and their stitching's. Scales for the Master of Laws, a hood for the Master of Whispers, a coin pouch for the Master of Coin, an axe and shield combination for the Master of War, a war galley for the Mistress of Ships, a chain link for the Grand Maester, a singular sword for the Lord Commander of the Queensguard and then a plain seat for an advisor.

He took his seat at the head of the table and waited, and the Small Council began to pile in not too long after. First in was Lord Randyll Tarly, the Master of War. Then came the new Master of Coin, one of Shireen's bannermen, Ser Robert Wensington. The Grand Maester then entered accompanied by Varys, Lord Jorah Mormont and Jon Snow, when finally the others appeared, Yara Greyjoy, Lord Commander Brienne and Queen Daenerys herself.

Everyone rose to their feet until the Queen sat down, when the scraping of chairs began again as everyone found their seats. "My Lords." Dany greeted. "My Lady." She smirked at Yara. "How are we with King's Landing?"

Tyrion would normally answer that question, but he had gone through everything with Ser Robert the night before and so the dwarf gestured for him to continue. "Your Grace, the new Sept is close to having the main prayer room completed so we may start to be able to hold services there within the fortnight so long as we commission new statues soon." He explained. "The rest of the city is following slowly. I am working with the architects, and they believe they can stick to the budget, however it might cut it close."

Dany nodded. "Allow the architects to go over if they need to, Ser Robert. Gold will not be an issue providing the taxes from the Bay of Dragons arrive properly."

"They will." Yara insisted. "I have my best men sailing there as we speak."

Tyrion wasn't too happy with the Ironborn as chief sailors, but even he had to admit that the Queen's favourite was doing well in keeping the rapers and reavers quiet and attempting to integrate them into the realm. "We should send ravens out to the surrounding castles, Your Grace. With any luck we can encourage the people whose homes have been displaced to move out of the city to our neighbouring vassals and have them set up new lives, so we can build more places of work instead of homes to save on costs." It was harsh, but Tyrion had to think practically.

Dany wasn't too happy, but she nodded. "Grand Maester, see to it."

"Of course, Your Grace." Gormon Tyrell bowed his head before scribbling a note to himself. Tyrion did the same, keeping the minutes of the meeting.

"The Gold Cloaks need more men too." Jon told them. "We have space in the barracks. I will go to the homeless myself, but we should lower it so any over the age of 14 can volunteer. Entice them with food and shelter."

"Can 14-year-olds keep the peace?" Jorah asked.

"My Ancestor's cousin once took Dorne at the age of 14, Lord Jorah." Dany grinned, and Tyrion internally knew that he had only invaded that early and Dorne fell when the Young Dragon was slightly older, though he said nothing. "People can do extraordinary things if we give them a chance." She turned to Jon. "Do it." Tyrion made a note of that as well, and the rest of the meeting followed quickly as the ten men and women discussed the city's rebuild, succession details of newly appointed Lords and Ladies, and everything else in between that they needed to keep an eye on. Finally, around three hours after entering and two full parchment sheets of timekeeping, Dany brought the meeting to a halt. "Thank you, everyone. We shall meet again at the same time tomorrow." She rose to her feet, and everybody else followed suit. "Prince Aegon, if you'll join me."

Tyrion noticed Jon wince a split second before the Prince of Dragonstone bowed his head, and both he and Brienne of Tarth followed the Queen out of the room. Soon everybody departed barring Varys, who helped Tyrion to straighten the chairs. "It seems strange." The eunuch began. "Serving a ruler who actually cares for the people she rules."

"It's everything you wanted." Tyrion smirked.

Varys also smiled. "I have served mad kings and disinterested kings, cruel kings and unfortunately soft kings. And all it took to make me feel like I was making a difference was to serve a Queen."

Tyrion could agree there. "We've come a long way since you smuggled me and my wife out of the city, Varys." His eyes went to the retreating council, but mainly to the silver hair at its front. "A long way indeed."

"Many have died in between." Varys said, and Tyrion knew that. Most of his family was now gone and he was one of the only two Lannisters left within the crownlands, though the dwarf actively tried to avoid his cousin as much as he possibly could.

"Our job now is to ensure that we never go back to those days, old friend." Tyrion explained. "We have a chance here, to build something great. Repair the damage that my Father and Brother brought to this city, to the Seven Kingdoms."

Varys nodded. "As you say, My Lord Hand." He gestured out the room and Tyrion followed him, but as he passed the Iron Throne his thoughts turned to his brother and his father, and silently admitted that their quest for that chair had almost ruined their legacy that they tried so hard to protect, and had it not been for Loren thinking differently about things, who knows how badly it all would have ended for the Lions of Casterly Rock.

Over 30,000 men had left Casterly Rock in order to travel Northwards, and after the devastating losses at both Moat Cailin and King's Landing, added to those that had already gone to their homes after the Ascension of Daenerys Targaryen, it was barely 1,000 that trickled back in through the Lion's Mouth. Loren of course was at the head of that column, and as soon as he entered the gates of Casterly Rock and dismounted he breathed a sigh of relief. He turned to see the gathered crowds, feeling bittersweet as the men that had followed him trickled past and towards their loved ones within the castle. His own loved ones were stood at the front of the gathered crowd, and he chuckled at the sight of young Jeyne being unwillingly held in place by her mother. Loren bent down to one knee and gestured for his daughter, who came racing at him with ferocity, clinging to his neck by her little arms.

"I've missed you." He whispered into her long, golden hair. Loren let her nestle into his neck as he got back to his feet and walked over to the gathered crowds. Firstly he stopped by Lady Dorna Swyft who was holding her 12-year-old daughter Janei's hand, with the 20-year-old twins Willem and Martyn behind her. Bowing his head, he said to the elder woman. "I am so sorry."

Dorna broke into sobs, but she managed to place a hand on his cheek and say. "This was Cersei, not you." She looked around. "Lancel?"

The eldest son of Ser Kevan had somehow managed to survive everything that had been thrown at him and was currently still in the capital with his wife Talla Tarly, and her Father serving with the Gold Cloaks. "Safe, as far as I know."

Dorna smiled tearfully. "Thank you, My Lord." She said, and her younger children followed the sentiment.

Loren then quickly said hello to the other Lannisters in his close family, speaking briefly with Tyrek Lannister and his wife, Alla Tyrell, before he finally clasped his emerald eyes on the one person he had longed to see for so long. In her arms was a small bundle, less than seven months old he reckoned just at the sight of his sons face. Loren smiled sadly and kissed his wife deeply, before announcing to everybody in the large courtyard. "We will feast to mourn all the dead tomorrow night. Tonight, spend your time with your loved ones."

The courtyard seemed grateful, but all Loren cared about was getting inside the castle and making his way to his rooms. The size of the Rock meant that it was another 20 minutes until he sunk into his armchair and closed his eyes to relax for a moment, only to be jumped on by his excitable daughter. "Careful Jeyne." He chuckled, picking her up and placing her on his lap.

"Are you back for good now Father?" She asked him. "You don't have to leave again?"

Loren smiled at his daughter on his left leg, watching as Cerenna came and sat on his stronger leg holding his son. Wrapping his spare arm around his wife and looking at the baby's face, he shook his head. "No, child. From now on I am staying here, with Mother, you, and little Jaime."

He grinned as Jeyne cheered and forced her way into his chest even further, but his eyes sought Cerenna's. She looked both sad and happy at the same time, a feeling which Loren knew well. Pressing a kiss to her cheek he gently pulled her into him so that the little family were all hugging one another tightly, and Loren Lannister, the Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West, simply felt content.

Daenerys' Small Council:

Hand of the King – Tyrion

Master of Laws – Jon Snow

Master of Whispers – Varys

Master of Coin – Ser Robert Wensington – heir

Master of War – Randyll Tarly

Master of Ships – Yara Greyjoy

Grand Maester – Gormon Tyrell

Advisor – Lord Jorah Mormont of Bear Island

Lord Commander of the Kingsguard – Brienne of Tarth

And there we are, the final action before a massive time jump and we see a lot of change to Westeros as a whole as it recovers. Jon has married Margaery, who is no doubt hoping that this husband doesn't die before she can rule as Queen for longer than a couple of years… He isn't overly excited, but he will follow his duty.

Sansa and Artos are back in the North and Sansa will stay as part of the regency council, so while Artos is the Lord of the Dreadfort he won't actually go there until Rickon comes of age in about 3 years' time and he will still grow up in Winterfell. There's a slight hint of Jaehaerys I in the council listening to Rickon's wishes as well…

Back in the South however, and the Queen's Council meets for the first time. I put it in there just to show that it doesn't just stop at the coronation, that ruling goes on and on. The Small Council is listed above.

And finally: Loren is home in Casterly Rock for good, reuniting with his wife and his daughter and meeting his son for the very first time, who he named after his hero as a child and the man that saved his life.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! There's just one more to go now, where we jump 20 years into the future for a funeral…

Reviews:

tommyginger: It was about as high tech as I felt I could go in this sort of era lol. I'm a bit sad too bit this has never been a nice story, and with Cersei's plan and the area it destroyed I genuinely couldn't see how those two wouldn't perish given that they would have definitely led the armies. She didn't burn the Tower no, only half the city! Loren understands, but the fact still remains that she killed his Father and got away with no punishment, he's allowed to feel that despite how awful Tyland was and as he's in charge of the Westerlands, his decree is law there. Artos may feel curious in the future…

DarylDixon'sLover: Tyland was many things, but one of them was Loren's Father. He's allowed to be angry at the person that killed him despite how justified that was.

McMysterio: Thank you for that! Jaime was really fun to write here given that he only stumbled once or twice after Tommen was born, but he also didn't have the stigma of Kingslayer on his name so he was widely respected as a great knight. Thank you again for the words on the Loren/Sansa part, you've understood exactly what I was trying to go for. If Loren had married Sansa then she would have been a lot happier for sure, but probably still a bit resentful given that then it would be her goodfather and not her husband that slaughtered her family. Ethan is dead, the Telltale Games fate would still have been the same and Asher mentions his death when talking about Ramsay at one point, just not by name. At the end of it Asher is the Lord of Ironrath, with Talia still around in Ironrath. Mira as it stands is still Sansa's lady in waiting while Ryon is currently Asher's heir.

Zyruss Villarreal: Most of the North, Jon, Tyrion and Loren and Cerenna know. Sansa is scarred, and she knows that Loren led her little sister away to face a similar if not worse fate than she did. She detests all Lannisters no matter who they are now, barring Tyrion because she knows he hates them too.

Guest (Understand the anger): You will get a scene with Artos and Loren next chapter. As you can see here, Rickon doesn't want that to happen. Whether that backfires on him or not… you'll see next time! As for Arya's daughter, I'm not sure I'll even mention her at the end given what the epilogue is looking like but I've included a family tree for all of the Lords Paramount's houses so you will know what her future looks like.

Guest (The Golden Dragon): That's what I've got to decide. My two options are The Golden Dragon (75 chapters) or As High as Honour: Fire and Fury (30 chapters). I'm leaning towards the latter as it's less chapters and I've already got 2 written if I'm honest but I've also just gone through The Golden Dragon and edited it all so I'm really not sure.

wildk: They're Frey's of the Riverlands, but not popular ones like the ones in Harrenhal.

Supremus85: Officially he will be known as the Prince of Dragonstone, but he was also granted the Lordship of the seat so that's why I put that in my outro.

Hail King Cerion: Thank you! After this I will probably take some time to assess which story of The Golden Dragon or As High as Honour 2 to start uploading next but knowing me I'll likely have something uploaded next Friday even if I don't know which one to focus on.

BlackWatcher1234: Who knows, he could have bought into the one-sided spin that he's inevitably going to get from the North for sure, or he could feel like half of himself is missing. I am officially excluding Arya hiring assassins. She can't afford that, and she doesn't want to leave the North or even think about the South.