Sansa could not remember a single time she could rest easy whilst travelling. The first time, when going to King's Landing, she'd been filled with an excitement too great to even fathom sleeping for longer than necessary. There was so much she wanted to see, and so many people she wanted to talk to. The next two times she'd been a fugitive on the run, having to travel as long as possible, most of it in the dark of night, constantly looking behind her back. And this time…

'I'm going to be sick', Sansa said, jumping upright in bed. Her belly made her feel like she was travelling at sea despite the boat being in a calm river. 'I have to get up.'

'If I get up, I'll be sick', Willas said.

The winds of winter had shaken the boat yesterday, and on top of that boats required the people on them to constantly readjust their weight between their legs, meaning the muscles in Willas' legs were getting a lot more practice than they were used to.

'Yet somehow I think going by horse would have been slower and more straining', Sansa said, pushing herself upright. It was still incredibly early, the dark blue of morning would probably shield her from the gazes of the few men still working on the ship. She slipped into her thick robes and boots.

'I don't doubt it. I remember going to Dorne on horseback, because I was going to get my knighthood so I wouldn't be caught dead in a carriage', Willas laughed at the memory.

'What happened then? Got blisters?' Sansa asked.

'We were told the Dornish had amazing massages that could make your back feel young again and transform your limbs from lead into feathers. So we did that and got robbed from whatever coin was in our clothes while we were there. We did feel physically better afterwards though.'

Sansa sniggered.

'Let's not repeat that though.'

'Pity. I'd really give good money for it now.'

'Maybe I'll rub your back when I return.'

'And maybe I yours', Willas smiled, getting up to give her a parting kiss.

Sansa was out on the deck for five minutes before somebody dared to disturb her.

'My lady, is everything well?'

It was Ser Leander, one of their guards. He was one of the few young men who weren't part of the castle guard that had still remained behind. The death of his brother in the Battle of Oldtown had called him back to arrange things with his family.

'Yes, everything is fine. I just needed a breath of fresh air. How are you? Was it calm tonight?'

'It is an easy job guarding a boat when it is not docked. At least in a river, where there are no pirates to attack it. We also did not pass a lot of castles or towns by the river. I believe I can count all the places I saw a light burn on a single hand.'

'All the better', sighed Sansa.

'Any idea where we are?'

'It is as dark for me as it is for you', Ser Leander said. 'I don't know how captains can see where we are in such darkness.'

'The stars probably', Sansa said.

'The stars?'

'They can be used like a map. They follow them into a direction.'

'Yes but, that helps for setting a course, not for knowing where we are in a landscape, right?'

'I- I don't know actually', Sansa admitted. She fell quiet for a while. 'I really don't know.'

'I will ask the captain for you, at a better time than this.'

'Yes, please don't disturb him on account of my curiosity.'

Their boat was undisturbed, Sansa and Amaryllis continuing their defence lessons underneath Willas' watchful eye. Ser Leander, as well as Ser Thorne, a stern forty-something guided them through each attack and defence manoeuvre.

There were few boats on the river as well, aside from some small fishing sloops. And so they went, until they arrived at Bitterbridge, where they were stopped by household guards of House Caswell.

Captain Hugo, the leader of their guards, tried talking to them, all charming smiles and gentle understanding, but it was no use, they demanded to search the bannerless boat. Willas and Sansa quickly put on their house Tyrell jewellery, replacing their dark cloaks with their rich green ones before they went up.

Their eyebrows went flying to heaven when Sansa and Willas appeared abovedeck. The hair of fire and eyes of ice of the one, and the cane and regal expression of the other with his ring noticeably displayed on his cane, left no doubt to their identities.

'My lord, my lady. We are required to search every ship larger than a fishing boat that passes by from our lord.'

'Certainly, no problem', Willas smiled. 'Go ahead, we have nothing to hide.

'A lot of boats pass by without banners lately, it's got our liege suspicious. The boat was faring without banners', one of the guards stumbled to explain.

'Yes, I see. It's fine. We decided not to use banners because we wanted to keep a low profile. Times are dangerous, hanging our banners would attract thieves and murderers.'

'We understand, my lord. Our apologies.'

But just as the guards started backing off, a messenger arrived.

'Lord Caswell wants to see who passes his port', he announced. 'The travellers need to present themselves.'

'The travellers are Lord and Lady Tyrell', the guard aboard the ship hissed at the messenger.

'Uhm… He knows. He says Lord and Lady Tyrell are free to join him for supper.'

Sansa turned towards the small castle that jutted out high above the surrounding lowland. The last time she had crossed this place, she'd still been Alayne Stone and the passageway had been uncontrolled, she had certainly not been important enough to invite for dinner. Back then the lands had still been green and filled with pumpkins and corn. Now everything was white. Only eight months had passed.

'Send him our thanks ahead, we will come', Willas decided.

Lord Caswell's family had not been at the Young Lords Council. They would have to make up a lie about their presence. But then again, even if he had known about King Aegon, they still couldn't have spoken about their intentions beyond going to Dragonstone. Or why Sansa was with Willas.

The horses were taken out, and Sansa climbed atop of Wisteria as Willas and the most senior of the guards climbed theirs. Ser Leander, Ser Kris, a youth of twenty and Ser Gwayne, a young survivor of the battle of Oldtown, remained behind with Amaryllis and the crew.

'Tell me what they're like', Amaryllis had begged as they left. 'They're Garther's family.'

'And his father was… I'm sorry, it's been a long time.'

'The brother of the old Lord Caswell. Orbert the Second. Orbert has two sons, of which Garther is the second. Old Lord Caswell had four daughters and Lord Lorent, and Lord Lorent has two young daughters. Still, I would like to know what they're all like. Whether his older brother still lives there. What the castle is like.'

'You sure you don't want to come?'

'A lady's maid has no place at a lord's head table.'

Greying white banners with blanched yellow centaurs on it hung from the stone and timber castle. Underneath the castle, a village spread wide, but with lots of gaps between the buildings.

'The sept's still here', Ser Roger, an older man in his fifties noticed. 'Burnt by prince Daeron's dragon Tessarion. I would have thought they'd had it broken down by now. But instead they leave it, despite all the villagers being burned alive in it.'

'Perhaps that is exactly why they kept it. I would keep it to show how horrible the enemy was, if it was done to my town', Captain Hugo said.

Shivers ran up Sansa's arms. The scars of dragonfire from a hundred seventy years ago still marked the land, and now, dragons were returning. Was Westeros ready for that?

They were welcomed in a modest wooden dining room, but what it lacked in size it made up for with lovely woodwork and exquisite wall tapestries.

'The Lord of Bitterbridge, defender of the Fords, Lord Lorent Caswell, his wife Brianna, and his daughters Rohanne and Gondorra. And his great-uncle, Ser Cleyton, captain of the guards.'

Lorent Caswell was a thin young man who could not be older than thirty, but what he lacked in size he made up for with thick ornate red robes. His wife was even younger than him, and had two small girls no higher than her hip who nervously wrung their hands as they stood against her. Beside the family stood an older man, in his late fifties, with dark hair and severe brown eyes. Yet, in them, despite Garther being the cheerful sort, Sansa recognized a resemblance.

'Lord Tyrell, I already thought it was you. Such big ships rarely pass by anymore. Well, they did, but that was over a month ago. So when one passes now, I always take a keen interest and watch the ship for myself with this eye I have installed in my solar. A lot's brewing north and east of us. A lord worth his salt is vigilant and stays aware of what's happening around him. But, my liege lord I always welcome with open arms. My apologies, I bet my staff at the stone bridge probably weren't too kind. They were not expecting such an important passer-by. I felt it was my duty to make up for it.'

'You are wise in being so vigilant, as are your guards. I cannot fault them for controlling a bannerless vessel. But, may I introduce you to my lovely wife, the Lady Sansa. And these are my guards: Ser Roger, Ser Hugo and Ser Thorne.'

The Caswells greeted Sansa, and even the small daughters slipped into a deep curtesy.

'So, my lord, where are you headed? These are dangerous times to be travelling. We're so close to the Stormlands which have been sacked, and King's Landing is in unrest, and there's this new king on Dragonstone, who seems to get more followers each day.'

'Being the current lord regent in my father's absence, I'm aware', Willas smiled mildly. 'That is exactly why we are travelling. We've faced quite a few challenges these past few months, from Oldtown and my brothers dying, to all these worrying disturbances and winter. It has worn out my wife quite a bit. She had a rough few years even before arriving in the Reach, and never did manage to catch a break', Willas said, turning to Sansa with a smile.

Sansa smiled back, impressed at how easily Willas spun a story.

'We wanted to make a final trip, somewhere away from home where my wife can get her deserved rest, but I am close enough to King's Landing to receive messages within a matter of hours instead of days', Willas said, deliberately putting his hand on Sansa's stomach.

Sansa looked at Willas. His excuse was a good one, but she couldn't help feeling a wave of anxiety as he announced the news. They'd kept the news so close to their chests, it was strange to let it be known now. On the other hand, how could it be avoided? Her belly seemed to grow by the day now. It would not be long before it became visible in every dress.

'My sincerest congratulations, children are gifts from the gods', Ser Cleyton said, being the first to retrieve his voice.

'You have children?' Sansa asked, testing the waters.

'I do. Two boys. Men grown already. Both are off to war now. But one worked at Highgarden, you may know him. Garther, Garther Cleyton, he was one of the guards.'

'I do remember, a handsome young lad, is he not? And quite cheerful?' Sansa said, as if she did not absolutely plan the question.

The man's face lit up, and Sansa found the similarities all the more noticeable now.

'Yes, he's a sunshiny lad', the man agreed. 'I hope battle doesn't kick it out of him. My eldest unfortunately inherited my temperament, so there wasn't much cheerfulness to be lost when he joined the army.'

'My congratulations, indeed', Lord Lorent said. 'A first child is such an exciting thing. May the Mother bless you with a healthy boy, and many more children to come.'

His wife paled beside him, taking a sip from her drink. There she sat, with two daughters.

'A toast', the lady muttered as if she only now saw her cup. 'To a healthy child, who will perhaps, one day, rule us all as the next wise Lord Paramount of the Reach.'

Everyone lifted their cups and drank.

'You said you wanted to be close to King's Landing', Lord Lorent said. 'Are you expecting a lot of news from therearound? Will there be a battle? Will it be big? I've been called but Lord Mace already had my men and I myself didn't know if I should bother. Although, if my Lord Paramount needs me, I will not refuse.'

'I indeed have reason to believe so. As you said, the city is unrestful. With the Faith Militant walking around, it's a powder keg just waiting to be lit, and right across of it, there's king on Dragonstone with dozens of ships and more houses supporting him by the day. I have every reason to believe there will be a battle. Otherwise, my father and I would not have sent all these good men to the capitol at a time when their families need them.'

'Do you think it will be a big one?'

'This king – who claims to be Aegon, though how he recovered from a smashed in head I do not know – has a strong navy. And we don't know how large his military is. But we know the entire Stormlands are occupied, that he has troops in Dragonstone, and that they are plaguing the Riverlands as well, blocking access to the Crownlands. It's just us, the Westerlands and the Crownlands against him, if it comes to a battle. And we lost many men in the past year', Willas explained. 'So many unknown variables.'

Lord Lorent drank, and then called for his cup to be filled before he drank some more.

'So you're expecting a lot of dead?' the lord asked grimly.

'I don't know which side will have a lot of dead, but I suspect a big battle indeed, and that right when King's Landing is fragile. They picked their time well. My sister writes to me with growing worry each day. She's just a girl still. She already lost two brothers and two husbands and she is not even twenty.'

Willas did not need to act to convey his sadness and worry for his sister, excellently playing the role of worried loyalist who came out of worry for his family.

Willas then sat up straight.

'But where there's death, there's glory. I expect many knights will be born on the battlefield. And once the pretender is dead, many will be punished for supporting a false king, and many will be rewarded for being on the right side.'

Sansa smiled when Willas left out all names.

'Yes, yes indeed', Lord Lorent said, stroking his weak chin as duck with orange and honey glaze was served. Sansa's stomach rumbled with excitement.

'I might go after all. A lord has a duty to defend', Lorent considered. Willas' smile, and subsequent compliment of his bravery and highly appreciated sacrifice, told Sansa her husband was internally rolling his eyes at how self-serving the young lord was.

Sansa bit her lip, remembering Amaryllis' words from months ago. If he died, the title went straight to Lorent's great-uncle, and then to Garther's brother. Perhaps Amaryllis should have married Garther sooner, the brother of a lord would probably have to marry someone of higher status, even if it was a fifth born daughter to some minor lord, as long as they had a surname.

'Where are your troops stationed? Or well, my troops, but yours to command', Lord Lorent asked.

'My father stationed a large portion of our men around the castle walls', Willas explained. 'Another portion hides in the Kingswood, so our enemy does not know the absolute numbers. But they will be able to be at the city in two hours. But your troops will be at the gates right now, I'm certain.'

The woods was were all the troops of the lords who sided with the Targaryens hid, honing their skills and fraternizing with Stormlanders and Dornish. Lord Mace would only pass the message that House Tyrell had officially turned to those who were still loyal the moment Aegon's boats would make the crossing. That way no Reach men would fight each other.

Lorent nodded.

'I do say, in the new year, I wish for an end to all these men who keep popping up calling themselves king', he said, raising his glass.

Sansa and Willas quietly lifted theirs, nodding in agreement.

'It's time for some stability, and an end to all wars and battles. I say, every man who wanted to earn himself some favours and titles has gotten his chance after the next one. Then I want another twenty years of peace, at least.'

'I wish we could have peace until I die', Sansa confessed.

'So do I, my lady', Lady Caswell confessed.

'And where is this place you'll be going to, Lord Willas? To receive your letters?'

'I'm sorry, you must understand that, being an heir, so close to the line of fire, my location needs to be safeguarded. It is not that I do not trust you, no one knows where we're going aside from my family. I did not even inform my own staff at Highgarden. We left at night, you can write and ask', Willas smiled.

'Of course', Lord Caswell smiled politely.

Sansa analysed his expression. He was trying to hide his hurt, and clearly felt that he could not disagree because the way Willas put it, it sounded like it was so logical to hide his location that protesting to it would be silly. But she knew Willas was being unapologetically honest in that moment. It couldn't have been later than their third conversation ever that Willas had told her he trusted as few people as possible to protect his house.

'Perhaps I'll hear from your heroic deeds', Willas smiled. 'It was always a great comfort to us your family remained faithful to ours, through every turn and challenge on our path. So many others decided to forsake us, and their kings, for pretenders. After this war, we'll focus on cleansing the Reach from those that turned against their fellows.'

'You mean the Florents', Lord Caswell said, leaning forward with curious eyes.

'Yes. We've been too busy to properly deal with them, but that is over once our armies return. After this war, there'll only be one king, for every lord in the Reach. And those who do not agree, can find themselves a new place to stay. That's how fealty works.'

'Yes, yes indeed. And those castles then?'

'Some, like Brightwater, are already promised. That one will go to my young new nephew, my brother Garlan's son with Lady Leonette. Others', Willas shrugged, smiling slyly. 'We'll see.'

'We'll see indeed. I never understood how a lord could turn against his liege. It's just not proper. Poor taste. I wouldn't want to be betrayed by my men, so why betray the one I swore loyalty to?' Lord Lorent smiled.

'You've probably also had your bellyful of betrayal?' the lord asked, turning to Sansa.

'Bellyful? It makes me puke how low some lords sink', Sansa joked.

'That's the pregnancy', Lady Caswell joked.

The table laughed, and the topic was exchanged for a more light-hearted one.

They could leave without an issue afterwards.

The last time Sansa had seen Dragonstone, it had just been taken by Loras, and the sea had been full with bloated corpses. No corpses were in the water now, and the sky was a dark grey instead of a bright blue. But perhaps, the sea would soon be filled again. It was the thirtieth. In a matter of hours, the final great battle for the throne of Westeros would be fought.

It stood out against the sky, dark, massive and ominous, like a black stone tomb, just as massive and foreboding as those in the crypts of Winterfell.

'Have you ever been?' Sansa asked Willas.

'Never', he replied. 'But I read about it, in history books and books on architecture. Legends say it was built by the Valyrians with magic and fire. The Targaryens claimed the stone was molten with dragonflame –'

'In the shape of dragons', Sansa finished.

Willas turned to her, an amused smile on his face.

'I might not know as much about architecture as you, but the history of the noble houses I know by heart', she smiled.

'What else do you know about it?'

'There's many dragon statues. It's very dark. Lord Renly didn't like it, called it too solemn. But befitting of Lord Stannis.'

Willas snorted. 'Yes, he really disagreed with it. I'm very grateful I grew up to inherit Highgarden. I've been to a few places, but I think I really won the lottery. I love Highgarden and the way it looks.'

'I always wanted to marry a southern lord, amongst others because I thought Winterfell looked so awfully sober', Sansa laughed. 'Oh, the foolish mind of a child.'

'I'm excited to see it though, sombre as they may call it. They Great Hall of the Stone Drum is carved in the shape of a dragon lying on its belly and you have to pass through its mouth to enter, and then there's the painted table. And I also want to know if you really hear a drumming noise in the Stone Drum.'

'Guess we'll find out soon.' The castle grew ever closer, and they had to turn up their heads to see the tops of the towers, the dragons now clearly visible as they curled around the towers or looked down at the boat from the castle walls.

'Have they seen us already?'

'It's said they can see all the way to King's Landing. They must have seen us since we set sail in the Blackwater. I'm sure they got a lot of lenses in those towers to watch everything that moves in the bay.'

Willas and Sansa donned their richest clothes. Sansa wearing a dark green dress royally decorated with gold, combined with her green cloak and golden jewellery. She had always known how to turn her dress into armour.

A darker skinned man with a white cloak, together with Jon Cupps, awaited them in the harbour. Only four other ships were left, the harbour was empty aside from them.

'Yes, that's my nephew', Lord Cupps declared.

'Greetings, Willas! And Lady Sansa! What a lovely surprise. This is Ser Ulwyck of house Uller. The Dornish army arrived, and before you now stands the head of the Kingsguard.'

'Greetings, Ser Uller', Willas said as Sansa curtsied.

'Uncle, why are you still here? I would have thought you'd have left by now.'

'So would I', Lord Jon said. 'But… things happen.'

'Indeed, which is why we want to talk to Princess Arianne.'

'First we need to guarantee you're not carrying weapons, then we'll take you', Ser Ulwyck said. And as promised, they were taken upstairs shortly afterwards.

Sansa had always been proud of her physique, but it was clear she was no longer the young girls who skipped up and down the Eyrie, running races with Mya. She struggled to catch her breath, and had to pause a couple of times before they reached the entrance to the Chamber of the Painted Table.

After a couple of knocks on the door, it was opened by a servant.

'Please, is that the mulled wine I asked for? My hands are freezing', a female voice demanded to know.

Sansa took in the room, from the indeed incredibly large multidimensional painted table that made theirs at Highgarden look like a toy for a toddler, to the faces of five lords sitting or standing close to an elevated chair in the middle of the table, and two men looking out the windows, hands pressed against their mouths. Sansa was surprised to notice that there was indeed quite a bit of noise in the towering, the sound of the waves was loud indeed, but a drumming sound? Not exactly.

'I'm afraid not my lady. Shall I send another servant down to check?' Willas asked.

A figure moved on the elevated chair, the silhouette detaching itself from the backrest.

Sansa had once believed Cersei Lannister to be everything a queen ought to be, painstakingly beautiful with her tall posture, noble lean features and golden hair. But as Arianne rose to a stand, shoulders proud and chin tilted defiantly, Sansa understood why the Targaryens married into Dorne instead of subjecting it. She did not look docile or conquerable.

'Lord Willas! We were not expecting you. And… Is this –' the princess asked as she approached them, her heavy red and black skirts audibly dragging across the floor. She was dressed in Targaryen colours, Sansa noticed, but she wore her coat of arms on her chest. She would not fully bend to the colours of her betrothed.

'Lady Sansa Tyrell', Sansa felt the need to speak, taking a step closer to her husband and straightening her shoulders even further. 'Pleased to make your acquaintance, your grace.'

'Yes. Welcome. You are indeed as pretty as they say. I must say I understand why you risked your king's wrath by marrying her', Arianne laughed at Willas. 'But though under other circumstances I would have loved some small talk, why are you here? Now really isn't the right time.'

'I'm afraid we have urgent matters to discuss', Willas said. 'We have reason to believe we're all in great danger… And a collective approach is the only way to stop it.'

'You know?' Arianne asked. 'I thought we were the only ones… How did you hear?'

'By raven. Sansa's brother sent –'

'Oh, that as well', Arianne said, nodding to herself as if that suddenly made sense. 'Yes, that's an issue too.'

Arianne crossed her arms.

'So, Jon Snow is your brother?'

'Yes. And, if I may, your grace, his concerns are genuine. I know my brother and he would never lie. I know it sounds impossible, but if dragons are real, why can't this? My brother is no joker.'

'After this battle is fought –' Willas started explaining, but Arianne lifted her hand.

'Luxury problems right now, I'm sorry.'

Arianne walked away to a nearby window. Willas and Sansa frowned at each other, but followed.

'What do you mean? Is something wrong? The plans –'

'Yes, the plans… Lovely to have plans… But that's the thing. You never manage to calculate every variable. Then suddenly something happens and –' Arianne waved with her hands. 'Everything can be destroyed.'

Sansa turned back towards the chamber. The lords who had been around Arianne, were now also looking out of windows. Everyone was. It was almost as if they were waiting to see something.

'What can be destroyed? What variable? Are you afraid we skipped over something important?' Willas asked. 'Why would everything be destroyed?'

Arianne shook her head. 'Technically, it had always been a possibility. But I never truly thought, least of all now…'

Her eyes remained trained on the horizon.

'Daenerys Targaryen is coming. With her dragons. And we have no idea what she'll do.'

Sansa's heart froze, her hands shooting to her belly. They had chosen wrong. They shouldn't have come here. Her babe.

Arianne noticed the movement, her eyes growing large.

'You should leave. The Stranger only knows what she has in store for us. She announced her claim to the iron throne three years ago, long before Aegon was even known to have survived. Perhaps she'll love her nephew, but she might just as well believe him to be a fake who is stealing her throne at this very moment.'

'Fuck', Willas said.

'My words exactly', Arianne huffed, a dry chuckle getting past her lips.

'All that clever planning, and then at the very last minute: "Hello, dear, I'm coming over, save me some dinner. I'm coming home after all."'

Willas' hand was white around his cane. She saw her husband regretting every decision that brought him to this point. But there was no way to win this. If this Daenerys truly wanted the iron throne, she would have killed the Tyrells for being Baratheon supporters as well. Turning to Aegon had increased their odds of surviving. But by what amount would remain to be seen.

Sansa remembered the burnt sept at Bitterbridge and the stories of the dance and the conquest. Children murdered, villages and castles burned to the ground, entire families butchered.

'Is that what everyone is doing? Looking for a sign of… a boat? A dragon?' Sansa asked.

'We're hoping boats. The dragons can fly, the biggest one with her on top of it, according to Archibald, but we hope they're not strong enough to fly long distance. The weaker, the better', Arianne said.

'Your wine, my lady', a servant called.

'Great!' Arianne said, turning away from the window. 'You too?' she asked, lifting her cup at Sansa and Willas. Sansa wondered what it was that endeared wine so much to queens. But Sansa couldn't blame Arianne, she too felt the need for something to soothe her nerves.

Willas joined them at the table to drink a cup.

'So, pretending we won't get a mad dragonqueen with dragons who murder my brother for lunch on our doorstep. I've heard about the need for reinforcements at the wall. We got another letter just recently. So, wights and Others?'

Sansa nodded.

'If we don't do anything, the whole of Westeros is at risks, all the tales of the Long Night come again. Monsters killing families, a night without end in which all the living are killed, only to rise again as the undead. We need to stop them, or there'll be no Westeros to rule over', Sansa explained.

'And we could stop that? An army of undead. If they're undead, how will we kill them?'

'Dragonglass and Valyrian steel help, we know', Sansa said.

'Correct me if I'm wrong, but the last time it took a great big hero to end the long night, and only after plunging his sword in his wife. What sort of magic is going to help us this time?'

'I don't know. Perhaps that was just a story. But this is Dragonstone, we'd hoped there was a lot of dragonglass here. And if we send soldiers north, they don't have to join the Watch, they only need to help… Maybe…' Sansa trailed off.

Arianne miserably looked away, the wrinkles on her forehead stacking themselves atop each other as she looked at her cup before downing it whole.

'Bloody perfect.' She let out a deep sigh. 'Never in a million years did I think I'd have to keep dragons and Others into account when ruling.'

'I believe we stand a chance.'

'Nobody has dealt with magic monsters in a thousand years. And we used to call that fairy tales. I thought a man of science like yourself didn't believe those bedtime stories.'

'I didn't. But then stone sphinxes flew, commanded by my grandfather, and krakens from the deep swallowed the Redwyne fleet.'

'And what does your grandfather say?' Arianne asked. 'Do we stand a chance? What does he think will help?'

Sansa paused, and Willas closed his eyes in defeat.

'Fuck.'

'What?'

'I uhm… I should've asked.'

'You want to fix a big magical threat and you don't think to ask the single person you know that knows magic?' Arianne asked.

Sansa saw Lord Cupps shooting them a worried look, she beckoned him over with a nod.

'Is there something?' he asked as he appeared beside them.

'Lord Leyton lives so far away, but we urgently need him', Willas explained.

'Uhm… How urgent?'

'Very urgent. And it's a matter of life and, well, the death of the entire realm.'

'Right', he nodded. 'So, I take it I'll have to use the glass candle?'

'The what?' Sansa asked.

'Glass candles are glass candles, they're rare and claimed to be magical', Willas explained.

'How many hours my uncle spent hoping to figure them out', Arianne sighed.

'They can be used for seeing across all space… and communicating across every distance, directly, as if you were in the same room', Lord Jon explained.

'Well, that would be very useful', Arianne said. 'Got any more of those?'

Jon shook his head. 'Lord Leyton gave me one as I'm the only Hightower out of Oldtown right now. But they're very rare.'

'Pity', she said.

Arianne looked at the table again.

'I should be focussing on the battle', Arianne sighed. 'The ten days are over and King's Landing hasn't surrendered. Right now, we're fighting for our throne. I can't believe she's coming just as we gave up on her. I hope she remembers we were willing to support her.'

She remained silent, staring at the table.

'Well, I'm not there, I'm here. Aegon fixes the throne, I'm in charge of the rest. Show me this candle. Then we might get started on the trouble ahead, staring out of a window waiting for bad news to come is useless.'

All huddled together in Jon Cupps' bedroom they watched as he lit his glass candle. They had briefed him on their walk. Willas and Arianne watched with such awe and apprehension Sansa felt she was missing some kind of background information. She only knew it was a frightening thing with sharp edges and a queer black colour that was somehow translucent. It cast a strange light over the room, making the darker places look like black holes darker than the blackest night, and the bright colours blinding, Arianne's dress looked like flames and black holes. It made Sansa shiver with unease.

'Lord Leyton, do you hear us?' Jon Cupps asked. 'Lord Leyton, this is Jon, Willas and I try to reach you from Dragonstone. We have worries.'

Jon looked up at Sansa.

'Do you know what is coming? Can you visualize the image? I take it you know best what the North could look like in such a winter?' he asked. Sansa nodded.

'Think very hard of the visuals, of the story. Perhaps an image will draw his attention. He's a very distracted busy man.'

Sansa didn't know how her thinking of the Long Night could draw the attention of a man hundreds of miles removed, but she closed her eyes anyways. Blueish black skies without a moon, powdery thick snow swallowing everything it touched, and monsters made of ice with eyes that lit up bluer than a summer's sky prowling across the tundra, breaking into houses and killing poor starving peasants. Every image had been carefully etched into her mind's eye, growing more detailed with every story Old Nan told them.

'Is that image true?' an old creaking voice asked.

Sansa opened her eyes in fear, seeing no one new.

Everyone looked around the circle, properly alarmed, aside from Jon.

'He's listening', Jon explained.

'No, Lady Sansa tried creating an image of what is possible in the future.'

'The Lord Commander's letters', the creaking voice said. Sansa turned around, the voice seemed to come from every direction, yet there was nothing. A growing feeling of discomfort spread through her chest.

'Grandfather, we have reason to fear the Others are back. We've been asked to send soldiers and weapons to help. But how do we help stop such a thing? We thought of dragonglass, of Valyrian steel… But will that truly help against magic? Do you know? Could you not… Help like you did in Oldtown?'

'You already have part of the answer. But ancient problems require ancient solutions. At the dawn of men, they were still too weak to stand against the Others alone. They were supported by one of the first races who lived together with the Others before Man ever set foot in Westeros.'

'The Children?' Willas guessed. 'Those are legends.'

'No more than the Others', the voice spoke.

'And, Others, bring winter, bring ice. What you need, is balance. The world only exists because of balance. You need fire. That is the song of ice and fire. The two primitive elements that create life and destroy life. And then, there are those who are still connected to the Old Ways, who are still in touch with the powers that ruled Westeros since the dawn of time. greenseers, wargs, magic, powerful blood. Your wife knows, those powers are more alive in the North than anywhere else.'

Sansa didn't understand. Why would she know? She'd heard stories, of course. And a lot of Northerners even believed her own brother had warged into a wolf multiple times… But those were just stories, weren't they?

'So what do we need to do, now?' Willas asked, growing impatient.

'Collect your armies, collect the dragonglass and all the Valyrian steel you can get. And accept your new guest and her pets. You will need them in the fight for the dawn. I and the the Three Eyed Raven will see to the rest.'

'New guest?' Willas asked.

In the silence that followed, they could hear a drumming. A powerful beat, followed by seconds of silence, before a new beat. No, not a beat. And the seconds grew closer and closer, until the drumming was loud and constant.

Sansa's heart shivered as she got up. She stumbled over to Willas as the others rose as well. After she'd helped Willas, they all moved to the window, all agonizingly slow because they wanted to delay confirming their deepest fears. Sansa saw nothing, but then…

A bone-chilling shriek bounced against the dark castle walls before a shadow slid across the courtyard. Another shriek. And the beating was now recognizable as the flapping of monstrous wings.

Arianne poked her head out of the window, looking up. A soft whine escaped her mouth.

'New guest', Arianne confirmed.

Seconds later Sansa's heart gave out when a black reptile with batlike wings soared past the window, and landed in the courtyard. It was hard to see clearly, but she could make out a figure on its back, with silver hair.

It was no longer a fantasy. The creature of legend and history really existed, and it was sitting right in front of them: a dragon.

Daenerys Targaryen had landed in Westeros.

- Of course the glass candles would be used
- During Arianne's imprisonment she considers asking the help of the Ullers, but decides against it. However, they also don't drink when Doran toasts to the Baratheons, so clearly, they were willing to kick some Lannister butt. So it made sense that once the Dornish arrived, Arianne would be looking to make a few of them Kingsguard, and this was a perfect fit.
- Are you excited? Where do you think it's going?