The stars shone brightly that night.
Rick watched with a smile as men, women and children hustled and jostled against each other in the Market Square. They were gathered here in honour of his return, in a way, though he expected the communal feast was the real incentive. There had been an attempt to queue up in neat lines for food, but far far too many people had shown up. 'Blame Eugene,' Maggie had said, though Rick was just as inclined to blame Maggie herself. All of the communities had heard of Rick's return thanks to Eugene's newly restored radios, and Maggie's Hilltoppers clearing the docks had made it possible for them to come in time.
And of course Rick himself could not avoid his own share of blame. There was no way they could have provided enough food for the massive host he brought back to Alexandria with the Blackfish. Even the tithe of Rivermen who attended outnumbered the Alexandrians themselves. Clumps of both peoples dotted the square, stopping and staring at each other as though they didn't quite know what to think just yet.
Unlike the Rivermen, the Northmen largely kept to one corner, save for the one or two who braved the makeshift cafeteria to fetch food for the rest. Their mail seemed comically dull when compared to the Alexandrians' bright blues and greens and reds.
"Why are they dressed as if they're about to go to war?" Rick asked. Every single Northman he saw was wearing a sword. A few even brought crossbows and Eugene's new matchlocks to the feast. "What, they think we're gonna slaughter them all or something?"
"Nearly all of them are survivors of the Red Wedding," Maggie explained. "They're the ones Carl and Arya brought back. We treat them as best as we could, but they still see foes behind every smile, crossbows daggers behind every shadow. Some of them fear Tywin's gold would buy us over to the Lannister cause."
If only they knew Tywin's gold hadn't even been enough to buy his own freedom, Rick thought.
Only hours ago, Rick himself had been worrying about a war that could once again threaten the Alexandrians' ideals, the Alexandrians' way of life, even the Alexandrians' very existence. Every night on the road, Rick had dreamed of the battle that would soon take place at Harrenhal. A sea of red cloaks surrounding the castle, bullets whizzing through the air. Would they even have had enough to break the Lannisters before the bullets ran out?
And what if they had? A push down the Kingsroad, into the foe's heartland. Perhaps ambushes on the way. Rick's men would gun down most of those who dared to try, but there was always the lucky arrow or crossbow bolt. For all their weaponry, the Alexandrians could be slain just like every other man.
Most of them would still reach King's Landing. The armies which were at King's Landing would have died at Harrenhal, but the king would not have left his capital undefended. Then it would be a grueling siege, occasionally trading potshots with the defenders on the city walls, sapping away at their precious bullet supply. Eugene's men could only make so many bullets a day.
Or they would have stormed the city instead. Braving the boiling pitch poured down the gatehouse, the hail of arrows that would surely fly their way as they approached. A bitter fight on the city walls, at ranges so close that swordsmen had a decent chance of cutting down gunmen.
Brutal business, but what other options would they have had? Just sit tight in Harrenhal, and wait for the Lannisters and their allies to send even more armies? Rick would crush them if he had the bullets. Then they would send even more if they could. Rick would crush those too, crushing army after army, until the Reach ran out of men or the Alexandrians ran out of bullets.
Otherwise…
"A toast to Rick Grimes!" Maggie shouted into a microphone, wineglass high in her hand.
Grimes! Grimes! Grimes! The crowd drank.
"To our next Queen, whoever she may be! To my nephew, Lord Edmure of Riverrun!" The Blackfish said, standing for a toast. "To the memory of the Young Wolf! And to the even younger Carl of Alexandria! Let their days be long and their foes filled with fear! To victory!"
'Mountainslayer! Mountainslayer!' The Northmen chanted. Before long Rivermen were joining in and even a few Alexandrians as well. Then there were a few toasts to this Westerosi lord and that, until the wine jugs finally ran dry and Maggie got a chance to speak again.
"Now I'm sure many of you are itching to hear about every battle and adventure in these past days from the nearest soldier. But why don't we let Rick say a few words first?"
Rick stepped up to a small podium in the middle of the Square, and waited for the crowd to quiet down.
You got this, Rick whispered to himself. We won after all.
Remember your words.
Good.
"Darry. Riverrun. Maidenpool. Three battles we fought together, as one people, and three battles we won. And I mean 'we.' Thanks to all of you back home, Maggie has been able to regain much of what we lost. We have the food to outlast a blockade, and the bullets to beat back any army they send over the lake." If every bullet Eugene's factory made hit their mark, they'd have enough, but Rick did not say that aloud. Instead he raised a few pieces of paper with his lone left hand. "Here in my hand I've a map of Harrenhal, and the plans to defend it. The castle's walls are taller than any building here in Alexandria, and the castle's towers are nearly as tall as some of the skyscrapers we used to have. There's no army on this new earth that can take it, and no army that can cross the God's Eye so long as we hold it. We can beat the Lannisters, beat the Tyrells in a war of attrition... but we won't."
Rick tossed the paper to the side and lifted a single piece of parchment. "This letter came from King's Landing just a bit ago." He cleared his throat, giving them all a chance to react to the announcement.
King's Landing? The people murmured, then the questions began. "Are they suing for peace?" someone asked. An Alexandrian, Rick guessed judging from the accent. "Do the lions wish to ransom Daven Lannister, my lord?" A Riverlander this time. Perhaps one of the Blackfish's captains.
Rick shook his head. "This is from the second army we sent to King's Landing." He unrolled the parchment as best as he could, and began to read. "We took King's Landing. We captured Joffrey at his wedding feast, along with every single noble who attended and wasn't killed in the raid. We destroyed the entire Lannister garrison. Cersei and Jaime and Ilyn Payne are all dead." Rick skipped over the executions and the sack, the bits which the Alexandrians didn't need to hear. "The Tyrell army surrendered and the Reach has sued for peace. Now the stars-and-stripes fly next to the direwolf above the Red Keep's gates. One injured, none dead."
Confused looks turned into grins all across the square as he read. Rick finally made up his mind. He would make sure his son didn't get off scot free. Carl's mischief may have ended the war far sooner than would have been otherwise possible. But mischief was mischief and there had to be rules, rules Rick set for the benefit of this growing civilization. Besides, he couldn't let all this hero worship get to the boy's head. Just because Carl won didn't give him leave to do as he pleased.
"Signed, Carl Grimes," Rick said, "Leader of the Twenty Good Men, and the Thirty Northern Musketeers."
A moment of silence followed, and then came the storm. Cheers of joy, roars of laughter, all swelling up into a wave. One of the Northmen's tables cracked, unable to hold under the fists pounding on it. Small puffs of clouds flashed against the night sky in the distance, followed by the sharp cracks of celebratory musketry. Grim Northern faces were split wide with joy, and Rick nearly thought he'd go deaf from all the shouting.
Grimes! Grimes! Grimes! The crowd chanted again, Rivermen and Alexandrian fists banging on their own tables.
Rick-and-Carl!
Rick-and-Carl!
Then side by side, the Alexandrians and Northmen began to sing the songs of their own peoples.
O say can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed, at the twilight's last gleaming...
Northmen behold, the Ice Dragon's eye calling,
Back home it leads, even as darkness falls...
"Save the singing for later, and save Winter's Crown for the coronation," Michonne shouted, trying to restore order, "Save it! Rick has more to say."
A few taps to the microphone restored the crowd's attention. "The old world had fallen apart around us. What followed scarred us, both mentally and physically. Not even our children were spared." Rick raised up his right arm so that his hand prosthetic was seen by all. "We lived minute by minute in fear of the dead, fought battles great and small against the living who wished us harm. We saw the sacrifices of many who made sure that we would be here this day. I used to think we had to leave our humanity behind. For that old world, the one we knew all so well before the walkers rose, was never coming back."
Rick paused so the words could sink in. They weren't in a hurry, not anymore now that the foe had been defeated.
"I was wrong. In this new world, we are no longer surrounded by the dead, but other living, breathing humans. For us to guide, for us to teach, so we all could claw our way to a bright future we deserve to call our own. One where we could live happy, content, at peace. But I was also right. Do we really want to bring back the old systems, flawed and unfair, after everything we lived and suffered through, or shall we make a new world that is even better? What say you? The Old or the New?"
New! New! New! The crowd cried.
"This new world is a gift to us, a chance not only to rebuild, but rebuild things better than before. We were given these lands beyond the lake, and the guardianship of those who dwell upon it. They cling to ancient ways, where the few hold power over the many. But as long as this Isle, this City of Alexandria still stands united, change can come from within their communities, brought about by the bonds of our friendship with the Westerosi peoples. With them, we shall build a better world that we deserve after years of toil and grief. One that is better than our fathers'. And one that is better for our sons. Who's with me?"
The Alexandrians cheered yet again. This time the Westerosi did not.
...
The next day, Rick was safely seated on his chair in Alexandria's community hall with his fellow leaders, back where he was when all this began.
"Welcome to Alexandria." Maggie set down three glasses of water in front of the Riverlords. On the Blackfish's left was Lord Karyl Vance, on his right Lord Clement Piper. "I hope the feast last night was to your liking."
Clement Piper slapped his bulging belly. "I certainly liked the food. Especially those pieces of chicken stuffed between pieces of bread. What do you call those again?"
"Chicken burgers," Rick suggested. Even those were a luxury of sorts. The Alexandrians had only been able to have meat on the table every day since a few weeks before the event, and even then chicken had been the only sort of meat to be had. With so few cows remaining, the idea of slaughtering them for beef burgers would be a bad joke.
"I enjoyed the burgers too. They were as good as your speech." The Blackfish was all smiles, but his gaze was icy cold. "Yet I am still puzzled by how you plan to change our ancient ways. Do my eyes deceive me, and the few gathered in this hall not rule over the many who live in Alexandria?"
Rick carefully pondered the Blackfish's words. "I lead. I do not rule."
"Lead, rule, it makes no difference. Forgive me, my lord, but I do not see you as a man grinding in the mills or toiling on the fields."
"Not with one hand that i-" Lord Piper shut up when the Blackfish glared at him.
"Perhaps Lord Piper drank too much last night. But what do you actually want, Lord Rickard?" The Blackfish asked. "Name your terms, and we will name ours."
Rick flipped through the notebook he always carried around. "An alliance of communities for trade and defense. Some semblance of structure to replace the now shattered Seven Kingdoms."
Karyl Vance took a sip from his glass and cleared his throat. "I've no opposition to that, but what about these ancient ways you spoke of dismantling? What of our lands which you claim guardianship over? You Alexandrians may be our allies, but we are bannermen of House Tully of Riverrun, not House Grimes of Alexandria."
Rick silently cursed at himself. It was only natural that the Riverlords would hope to preserve power for themselves and their sons. "The world we came from once had kings and lords too, hundreds of years ago. But one by one those were gone when the people realized they deserved better leaders, ones that they were able to choose for themselves. And we Alexandrians are doing quite well without a tyrant who craves power above all else. I do not mean to call you tyrants, but I hope a day will come in the future when you Westerosi will see that there are better ways, where every man, woman and child could take charge of their own lives and communities without being lorded over by some guy in a castle."
"Wasn't your world by shambling corpses despite all those powerful weapons of yours?" Karyl retorted. "Perhaps those new leaders weren't what your people deserved. We once had wooden huts like this one too, thousands of years ago, but one by one those were done away with when we realized we could build proper houses and castles-"
The Blackfish lifted his hand. "That's enough, Lord Vance. We're here to strengthen our alliance today, not make enemies. Your terms are good, Lord Rickard, but as the eldest living relative of the late King Robb I want a few additions." From the sleeves of his tunic, the Blackfish produced a parchment and began to read.
"Firstly, the realm of Alexandria and Kingdom of the North and Trident shall recognize each other as free and equal realms. Save for the terms in this treaty, neither realm shall intervene in the other's affairs, or attempt to overthrow the other's ruler, or march armies into the other realm without the other's permission."
"Secondly, the Border between our realms shall consist of the River Trident until Harroway, the Red Fork until Hornvale, the hills between Hornvale and the stream which flows past Casterly Rock, and thenceforth into the Sunset Sea. The Iron Islands shall also come under House Stark's dominion. The Rivermen south of the Trident may choose to recognize Carl as their new overlord, or move north with their holdings compensated for at a fair price."
"Thirdly, our realms shall remain in alliance, and come to the other's assistance upon disaster or invasion. Trade shall be conducted freely between the two realms. Alexandria will arm the North's hosts with Alexandrian weaponry, and help reclaim the territories occupied by the North's foes. The North recognizes and defends Rick Grimes and his successors as the overlords of all lands south of the Trident, and will assist such overlords in 'civilizing' the Reach, the Stormlands, and the Westerlands south of the Border."
"Fourthly, Carl and his descendants of Stark blood shall rule as Princes within the Alexandrian realm, over the lands and waters between the Trident and Blackwater save for Alexandria itself. Rick Grimes is given guardianship of these lands until Carl comes of age and wed and beds Queen Stark, or whichever comes sooner. The North's hosts are allowed free passage throughout these lands upon the Prince's permission."
"Finally, the Westerlands and the Reach shall repay the North ten million gold dragons per year for the next five years for losses due to the War of the Five Kings. If repayment is not forthcoming, the North may maintain garrisons in those lands and directly collect taxes until the payment is made in full."
"Ten million!" Rick exclaimed. Truth be told, he did not know how much that actually was. He got his food straight from Alexandria's cooks, his furniture straight from Alexandria's carpenters. In return he provided leadership, so that the settlements were stable enough such that the cook could exchange his food for the carpenter's furniture. Even before the Walkers rose, all Rick knew about millions of dollars were massive numbers flashing under 'National Debt' on the TV screen.
"We will need every gold dragon to recoup the devastation caused by the Lannisters and their Tyrell allies," Lord Vance spoke in his quiet voice. "The price of grain grows ever higher, Lord Grimes, and winter is coming as the Starks say. We demand gold dragons, but it is grain that we desire most, to feed our bannermen and our smallfolk so that they can live to see the next spring however many years hence."
"My stout belly would have slimmed much by then," Piper jested. "Lord Vance speaks truly. The Riverlands saw the worst of the fighting in the War of the Five Kings. You should visit our castle one day, or what's left of it anyway after the Mountain and his men put it to the torch. Good thing you have that son of yours," he muttered.
Rick felt a foot lightly nudge against his own under the table. "How bad was it?" Ezekiel whispered.
"Shit," Rick answered. Suddenly he was back at that ruined village less than a day's ride from Harrenhal, the first one with burnt roofs and broken walls. Many more had followed in the next few weeks, a trail of destruction wherever the Lannister armies marched that rivalled the ruins of Alexandria. Except this was caused by the cruelty of living men rather than the instincts of mindless undead.
The Westermen will pay, Rick decided, and the Reachmen too.
"How much is ten million gold dragons anyway? Will the Westerlands and Reach be able to pay?" Michonne asked.
"My lady, Oldtown is the largest city in Westeros after King's Landing itself, and Lannisport the largest after Oldtown. The Reach has the most fertile lands and largest population in all Westeros, and was barely touched by the war. The mines of Casterly Rock overflow with gold. I don't know if they can pay, but they can at least try. If they cannot pay all of it in gold, we will take payment in grain instead."
"Perhaps Tywin should learn to start shitting gold," Piper quipped.
"I wager he is shitting himself right now in the Black Cells," Vance agreed. "We might even let him live if he shits enough of it."
Rick's face grew stern. "You will let him live, along with all of the other prisoners that have been taken. Now that we have the chance to rebuild Westeros, I'd prefer to skip all the nasty bits, even towards those who did us harm. We are better than that. Better than them."
The Blackfish shook his head. "Those involved in the death of Lord Eddard Stark must face justice. Those who started the War of the Five Kings must face justice. Those who broke guest right and slew our King at the Red Wedding must face justice."
"We Alexandrians do not execute our prisoners whatever they may have done, and we expect the same of our allies. Those who killed will still be punished, but in a civilized way. Just because we don't kill them, doesn't mean they'll see any more daylight for the rest of their lives."
"Those are the ways of your people… though I see not all of your vassals seem to agree. But blood calls out for blood, and Tywin's got enough blood on his hands to turn the Trident red. By the Seven who are One, he will pay," the Blackfish insisted.
"That's nice and all, but I've no plan to budge on this."
"And neither do we."
An uncomfortable silence fell on the community hall. The Blackfish sat stone-faced, waiting for Rick to yield. Rick did the same.
"If we squabble over Tywin's bones like a pack of dogs we'll all end up dead," Lord Piper said finally. "Whoever gets their hands on the prisoners first can decide what to do with them."
Rick considered Piper's proposal. It was Carl who held the prisoners for now. He would be sure to send a sternly worded letter to Carl ordering that all of the prisoners be spared, and not be turned over to the Northmen or the Rivermen.
"Fine. Fine. As for the rest… seems reasonable under the circumstances…" Rick glanced to his left, then to his right. The other leaders gently nodded. He picked up his pen and signed the pieces of parchment. "Good. There will surely be a lot of disagreements to come, but I'm hopeful that we could work those out as we go along."
...
After the various leaders had left, Rick began sifting through the small pile of reports which had accumulated in his absence.
Things hadn't gone nearly as badly as Rick had feared. Alexandria and the surrounding communities were still standing despite his absence. Flourishing, even. With hundreds of northmen on the island, there were plenty of hands to share the mill had been completed a whole month earlier than planned with their help. And when it came to farming, it was the Alexandrians who seemed to have much to learn.
Though there had been some issues. For the most part, the Northmen worked in exchange for room and board, yet there were those few who paid Westerosi money when they wanted anything more, and those who began taking such coinage as payment for their work. Copper stars and silver stags were spreading through Alexandria like wildfire before their leaders knew what was going on. Rick didn't like that. He was no economist, but he didn't like the idea of replacing their barter system for a currency that wasn't even theirs.
Minor hiccups at the end of the day. Northmen and Rivermen refugees freed up much needed Alexandrian manpower for far more useful tasks. Maggie and her Hilltopper crew had nearly finished clearing out Alexandria's old town by now, with only the city hall left to be restored. Michonne had gathered a brainstorming team of professional white-collar workers... though Rick wondered how many of the former lawyer's new ideas were suitable for the new civilisation they were about to build.
As expected, it was Eugene who benefitted the most. Rick set down the pile of reports and headed for the munitions factory, which had more than tripled in manpower ever since the Event, and were now churning out guns in addition to various types of ammunition.
Eugene himself welcomed the Alexandrians' leader to his private workshop.
"You guys have been busy," Rick remarked as he leaned on a multi-barrelled contraption.
"Careful there!" Eugene wiped his hands on his grubby apron. "We only have a few of these volley guns at the moment, including the one which won the day at King's Landing."
"What about those matchlocks in your report?" Rick asked. "I heard the Northmen training with them yesterday."
"Those helped a bit, but we're onto flintlocks now." Eugene walked towards a nearby table. He grabbed a leather pouch full of small paper tubes and slung it over his shoulder. Then he reached for a gun with bits and pieces of metal jutting out of its right side. "Like this one, based on the muskets we got from the Civil War museums. It still loads from the front like the Northmen's matchlocks. But it doesn't need a burning piece of rope all the time, so it is much safer to handle when loading, and we don't have to worry about the flame going out or trying to continuously supply an army with rope."
Rick took the gun and rested its stock against the ground. It stood even taller than Carl. "You said our ammo might run out in the future if we can't make our own primers. Is there anything better to arm ourselves with than your flintlock? The Westerosi have different values to us after all. I want to make sure we have a better weapon in case they turn against us one day."
"Earl!" Eugene shouted at the Alexandrians' blacksmith, who was tinkering with a metal tube at the far end of the workshop. "We're showing Rick the Hall too!"
Earl Sutton picked up another gun from a rack of firearms. It was even stranger than the muzzleloader, with similar bits and pieces of metal but jutting out the top instead, and a fattened section towards the end of the rifle. "This is a breechloader based on the Hall rifle," he explained. "It also uses a flintlock mechanism, so we can use it even if our percussion caps run out, but this one can load from the back. The chamber pops out here, and I can reload much faster than Eugene's gun without using a ramrod at all." He pulled a cartridge out of his own pouch and motioned for Eugene to do the same. "Here, let us show you."
The Hall breechloader fired even before Eugene managed to ram his bullet down the muzzleloader's barrel. Earl coughed as a small cloud of grey smoke spewed out the back of the gun and towards his face, but he quickly recovered and began reloading again. The muzzleloader finally fired after the breechloader's third shot.
"Good. Start making those muzzleloaders for our allies, and breechloaders for our own military. I want a Hall in every of our soldiers' hands by the time those primers run out."
"Should we make some guns for King's Landing as well?" Eugene asked.
Rick considered for a moment. "Build a few pistols for the city guard or whatever they call it down there. But none of the muskets. I don't want Carl running around half of Westeros with a small army trying to right every wrong he sees."
Eugene nodded. "Will do. Though I hope you won't need them for a few more days at least. Making pistols isn't easy even with a few experienced gunsmiths, and we've been working nearly non stop for the last two weeks."
"We've been making other gadgets too," Earl pointed out. "Proper oil lamps to replace our candles before we accidentally burn any of our houses down. Dip pens so that the Westerosi no longer have to write with bird feathers any longer. There's a ridiculously long list of things to do, and even with all our guys freed up from farming we don't have nearly enough people to do all those things we want. We work our guys hard enough as it is, but Eugene and I have been practically sleeping in this workshop ever since we got 'isoted' into this world."
"You two need some rest then. A few hours won't make a difference either way. Why don't we go for a walk while you tell me about the other things you've been working on?" Rick proposed.
...
Children barely older than toddlers ran along Alexandria's carless streets, laughing as they carefully plucked out flowers from the roadside weeds. A dark-haired child was clearly winning the contest, judging from the flowers blooming on their straw hat. Stay out of the tall grass Carl, Rick nearly cried, until the child turned and smiled. Unlike her brother, Judith would never know about the walkers crawling among the grass to take a bite out of the unsuspecting, or living foes who preyed upon the young and the weak.
"Da-da! Da-Da!" Judith slung her small basket over her shoulder and leapt into Rick's arms. She counted her fingers. "I got twelve flowers today! T-w-e-l-v-e!"
"Good job!" Rick lightly kissed his little girl on her brow. "Where do you want to go?"
"The sea, the sea!" she chattered excitedly, pointing up the road. "I want to see the sea!"
Rick laughed. "It's a lake, not a sea anymore. But sure, let's go see the sea."
The small group walked on. Further along the street, several small stalls had sprung up selling various goods. Ten copper pennies for all the corn you could carry, one promised in a huge cardboard sign. The stall next to it sold backpacks for three copper stars each. Yet another store sold hand-knitted clothes for half a groat.
"A silver stag for a carving! A silver stag for Carl's carvings!" Rick heard a familiar voice shout.
Still carrying Judith, he pushed past the growing crowd. Most of the carvings were flat pieces of wood, yet there was also some crude three-dimensional figures in the mix. Coin after coin clinked in Andrea's hands.
Rick's wife took another silver stag and exchanged it for a wooden horse. "Carl won't believe how much his stuff has sold for. Wait till he comes back to Alexandria."
"I want 'arl!" Judith squirmed in Rick's arms. "I want my bubba!"
Rick pinched his little girl's rosey cheeks. "We'll see Carl soon. And the real sea too, all the way down in King's Landing. Do you want to see what a real city looks like?"
Judith's little head swung up and down. "We're going to see the sea!"
"The lake, actually," Eugene corrected. "I don't think I've actually seen the waterfront at all."
Andrea pulled up another tray of wooden carvings. "I'll join you guys once these are sold. It's the last batch anyway."
Earl reached for his purse. "I'll buy the whole lot. The woodwork definitely needs improvement, but I think I can sell them to some Northern lord for ten times the price." He examined the base of one of the figurines. "They'll pay when they see the Grimes mark."
"Cool. Let's go." Andrea scrawled 'Sold Out' onto a wooden board and hung it in front of the stall, much to the disappointment of other prospective buyers.
They reached the waterfront ten minutes later. Rick had never been to Alexandria before the walker apocalypse, but this area now looked nothing like the wreck it was when they first scavenged the place. Two fiddlers played some kind of duet to the applause of a growing crowd. Boys splashed about in the lake, safe from the few boats which docked at the pier to the south. Rows of solar panels lined the park, powering lights which dimly shone from reopened stores across the street.
"How long will those panels last?" Rick asked. The crumbling of civilisation was still taking its toll years after their world had died. The Alexandrians' cars were the latest to go, after the last batches of usable gas had turned so bad they could not be used anymore.
"Don't worry about those. They don't have any moving parts at all. They degrade over time, but as long as nobody breaks them, some should still be generating power by the time your grandchildren are as old as you are now. Unless the sun goes out," Eugene snarked in his deadpan voice. "In which case we are all fucked."
Rick chuckled. "Well let's hope that doesn't happen."
"The Northmen said they have long and harsh winters though," Earl warned. "Probably isn't as bad here down south, but the Westerosi winters can apparently last for years."
"We could set up some greenhouses," Andrea suggested. "I'll ask Olivia to-"
"Rick!" A voice called behind them.
The Alexandrian leader spun around. "Claudia?" He asked the woman with a little boy waddling behind her. Rick remembered interviewing the two right when they got… transported into this world.
The woman nodded. She reached into her pocket with one free hand and handed a wallet to Rick. "This is for you."
Rick took one glance at the wallet and nearly dropped Judith in shock. He hurriedly set her down. Then he snatched the wallet, opened it and pulled out a random credit card. His trembling fingers traced the cardholder's name. Jeffrey Grimes. And on the wallet's other flap, a creased photo of Rick and his brother, and a smiling toddler Carl hoisted between them.
"Jeff… how…" The wallet slid from Rick's hand. "Just how do you have his wallet?"
"We fled Barcelona together when the walkers rose. Tried to, anyway. He asked me to tell you that your kid brother was sorry, that he never got to pay you back for the many times you stood up for him. He said he never got to be the knight in shining armor, but he..." Claudia choked back a sob. "He was bitten when he saved me. I'm sorry."
"Fuck," Rick croaked. "There was no way to know before you came, but all the time I hoped he had survived."
"There's more. Jeff and I spent one night hiding together in my apartment. We were both scared, we got to talking we…" She swallowed. "Well things progressed from there," she continued, her voice catching in her throat. "My son's full name is Edward Grimes."
Rick reeled back in shock. In the span of a few minutes, he had lost his brother but somehow gained a nephew. He carefully looked around his surroundings. No Westerosi were within earshot, and the Alexandrians in this little group could be absolutely trusted.
"There's no doubt as to who his father is," she rambled on. "At least on my part, I mean. I wasn't with any man before or after. Not near enough for it to matter, anyway, I hope-"
"You will introduce yourself as Jeff's widow," Rick said, forcefully, "Both in Alexandria and Westeros. We Alexandrians don't give a fuck, but the Westerosi are a backwards people, who treat kids born out of wedlock differently to those whom they consider of legitimate birth. It's best not to let them know."
"Why don't you come to King's Landing with us?" Andrea offered. "The two cousins should get to know each other. I mean Judy and Ed, though Carl is quite good at taking care of younger kids."
Claudia smiled weakly and nodded, looking at the two kids playing an impromptu game of tag. "It seems they're already getting along well. Yeah, we'll go to King's Landing if you'll have us. I wouldn't mind seeing how their weapons compare to what I handled back in Barcelona's Museo Militar."
"Maybe you could even give a few suggestions," Rick joked. The news about his brother hurt, but it was an old wound. All things considered, it was a good day for Alexandria and a good day for him. The place felt alive again, full of light and laughter, safe from both the living and the undead...
And beyond the shores of the lake, a whole new world lay ready for them to take.
[A/N: Yes, the Kingdom of the North and Trident have their own 'hidden' interests in mind, and the Riverlords would have had their own meetings which Rick were not privy to. And yes, I am perfectly aware that ten million dragons/year is… quite the amount.]