Another busy weekend for me means another Thursday upload! Though I'm sure you guys won't mind that…

Thanks to a lot of buffer chapters here I've been writing a lot of my Harry Potter story this last week because that mood has hit me… and by a lot I mean in the last week I've written 15% of the story which will be around 60 chapters long. I've even questioned uploading the start of it to gage reactions, though I think I'll wait until after this story is finished first to stop myself going on another break.

Enough about Leo MacDonald however, when this OC has a very important chapter! I want to give you a brief reminder that not everything is happening consecutively and news takes a while to travel. Robb's scenes over the past few chapters are earlier in the timeline than Luke's are.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I own none of the characters that weren't invented by me.


The new Queen's second night as a married woman was actually spent in the royal chambers, and it was just as intimate and tiring as the wedding night had been. Luke had given the pair three weeks away from courtly duties as a honeymoon and that afternoon they were due to depart for Dragonstone, so it was no surprise when Luke woke up to find travel chests dotted around his bedchamber. He was surprised however to see his new wife awake and sat at his desk wearing nothing but her shift and admiring Blackfyre.

"The sword of Kings." Luke stated, sitting upright against the pillows. "One day, it will be our son's."

Margaery smiled as she admired the smoky ripples of the blade. "Forgive me, Lucerys, I awoke early and wanted to get on with your packing and I couldn't help but admire… House Tyrell has never had a Valyrian Steel sword, I've never seen one this closely."

Luke stretched his arms out and got out from the covers, pulling on some nightwear trousers as he walked over to the table. "Your Mother was a Hightower, is she not?"

"She was." Margaery nodded.

"When I was learning my histories, the Dance of the Dragons always fascinated me." Luke poured them both some water. "Especially how both Vigilance and Lamentation were lost so close to one another."

Margaery simply smirked. "Who says it is lost?" She made sure to sheathe the famous sword in its new scabbard before she rose to her feet. "Perhaps my Grandfather just doesn't wish to advertise such a valuable blade."

Shaking his head amusedly, he picked up the sword and placed it back where he had laid it the night before. "I should very much like to see it one day, if of course it isn't lost."

"A visit to Oldtown sounds splendid." Margaery grinned. "It's been so long since Loras and I visited."

"When things settle down, we will need to do a tour." Luke stated more seriously this time. "My ancestors understood the importance of visiting our vassals and listening to them in person and after so much turmoil a procession will be good for the people to see their new King and Queen."

Margaery nodded. "Perhaps after our trip to Dragonstone we can begin planning one to the West for when Lord Tyrion goes to reclaim his seat. It would be important to see he is backed by us."

"A wise idea." Luke agreed with a smile. He took a sip of his water as he thought. "Firstly though I need peace with Stark. That's the most pressing issue facing us now."

"Sansa is a lovely girl." Margaery told him. "She's very shy, but sometimes on our talks she'll mention stories about her family. She admires her brother."

"He's an admirable man from afar." Luke nodded. "His victories alone will win him a place in the history books."

"I meant more for his character." Margaery explained. "He seems… reasonable, and he has a genuine concern for his people. I hear no hint of lies from Sansa's words."

Luke believed her. "After our trip I will send him word that I would like to meet." He explained. "He will have spoken to Ser Brynden by then and hopefully convinced his bannermen that bending to me is the smart choice."

"Relying on Lords to make the smart choice is never a given." Margaery remarked. "They want as much as they can take in an instant. Even convincing my Father of our union at the beginning was not straightforward when he could see a quicker path to the Throne elsewhere."

Luke knew all about the choice House Tyrell had to make between him and the Lannisters and honestly didn't hold it against the Warden of the South for considering all options. "You and your Grandmother soon brought him around to his senses."

Margaery grinned. "You flatter us, Your Grace." She curtseyed informally making Luke laugh. "But this was always the correct choice, and soon when you put a son inside my belly the realm will be stronger than it has been in a very long time."

She closed the distance between them in an instant and pressed her lips to his own, and once more the newly wedded couple fell victim to their base desires once again.


The Battle at Moat Cailin had been tough fought, and it had taken days for Robb to recover fully from the wound that Stannis Baratheon had inflicted on his side. Thankfully it hadn't been a mortal one, but it still stung as the King in the North orchestrated the third rebuilding of Moat Cailin's defences. Unlike Stannis Baratheon and whomever the Ironborn Commander had been however, Robb had the loyalty of the North on hand.

His travelling communication Maester had sent an order off to White Harbour before joining the others in their post battle healing efforts that had instructed Lord Manderly to both send supplies down to the Moat for the recuperation of Robb's forces, but also to send ravens to the Northern Houses to instruct them that the North was once again in the hands of House Stark. Already in the three weeks that Robb had been housed in the Gatehouse Tower he had received responses from his major vassals, including at Karhold where the castellan had explained that Alys Karstark was yet to arrive, but once she had she would be brought to Winterfell.

After recovery Robb had also needed to confirm Robett Glover as new Lord of Deepwood Motte after Galbert's death, as well as Rodrik Forrester as the new Lord of Ironrath. And finally came the sorting of the bodies. The bog had claimed thousands with more on top too injured to move leaving 14,000 Northmen available. Of the dead, only the notable highborn Stormlands were to be sent back to their lands for burial and a pair of mass graves had been dug outside the Moat, one for Northmen and one for the Stormlanders.

Finally after the wagons had been sent Southwards with Ser Wendel Manderly plans for the future could be made. There was still an Ironborn presence on the west coast so Robett Glover had been quick to take the men of the Wolfswood and the Rills to fully secure the North, whilst the rest of the Northmen took their time to recover fully. Robb found himself writing more letters than he ever had in his time learning from Luwin as he began to request architects from White Harbour and beyond to travel to Winterfell, not knowing the state that Theon had left the castle in.

He was then penning an order for Forrester Ironwood when a knock at his door sounded. Placing down the quill he looked up as the door opened to see Ser Brynden Tully. Grinning, Robb slowly got to his feet. "Uncle." He greeted.

"Your Grace." Ser Brynden bowed his head.

"I would embrace you, but I have two dozen stitches that require rest." Robb groaned in annoyance. "Come, sit and tell me about your trip." The Blackfish nodded and moved to Robb's desk, unfastening his back scabbard and placing an extremely large sword on the desk. Robb's eyes were drawn to the sword he had seen his Father oil and clean dozens of times sat in the Godswood. "Ice…"

"I'll give the Targaryen this, he wants peace." The Blackfish explained. "He met with me personally after receiving news of Hoster and gave me the sword and a formal letter of truce as well as an insistence that bending the knee will bring aid against the Ironborn from King's Landing." He placed that on the desk. "He also allowed letters from Sansa. He claimed not to have Arya."

"He doesn't." Robb nodded, happy at the honesty finally coming from that pit of vipers. "Arya is safe within Riverrun."

The Blackfish smiled softly at that. "I am glad of it."

Robb then broke the dragon seal on the letter and read aloud. "I, Lucerys Targaryen, do hereby agree to a formal truce until such a time I can travel and agree terms with Robb Stark in person after the Royal Wedding. As a token of my goodwill, I return the Valyrian Steel sword Ice, and as many bones of fallen Northmen as are intact." He placed the letter back down. "The bones?"

"In the courtyard, it's what took me so long to return." The Blackfish explained. "There are few that they took care of, but your Father's are among them."

That caught Robb by surprise. It had almost been two years since Ned Stark's unjust execution and he could only imagine the sorry state the corpse was in. "I do not wish to see that." Robb muttered. "But thank you, I shall need to see that his statue is made for the crypts." He pulled a fresh bit of parchment towards him and began scribbling for a stone mason. "What was he like, this Targaryen? I've killed his biggest threat personally and bending the knee to him will soon be inevitable."

"He seems more warrior than King." The Blackfish explained. "But he commands loyalty. King's Landing was filled to the brim with his sellswords and red cloaked soldiers. He rewards loyalty, the court is filled with loyal men from the Reach, Stormlands and Dorne as well as the island houses sworn to Dragonstone."

Robb nodded his understanding. "Any madness?"

The Blackfish shook his head. "Not that I saw. He has very little, if anything, of his Father in him."

That was a relief to Robb. The Stark had heard whisperings of an incident at Rosby surrounding with rumours of a Baratheon bastard being involved, and his thoughts had turned to Arya and her blacksmith. "Anything else?"

The Blackfish nodded. "I would advise bending the knee." He said quietly. "They are small as of yet, but Lucerys Targaryen has a dragon, as does his sister. There is also a third that he hopes bonds to his daughter, but there is no sign of that happening as of yet."

Robb gulped. "Dragons… fucking dragons." He whispered. "So if I don't bend, we risk what my ancestor Torrhen avoided 300 years ago."

"It seems that way." Brynden nodded.

Robb sighed and massaged his temples with his hand. "If he wishes to meet after the royal wedding then it will be soon, the South's Maiden's Day was less than a week ago. He may already be on his way. He'll expect me to bend there and then."

"He should send word first." Brynden explained. "We have time."

Robb pondered his options for a moment. "In any case, I need to see Winterfell first." He wasn't ready for a fast ride, but he could make the journey in a fortnight and if dragons were coming, he wouldn't risk not seeing his home once more. "Have the Lords sent to the War Room, I must speak with them."

The Blackfish nodded his head formally and departed the room, leaving Robb alone staring at the sword of his ancestors hoping that he was making the right choices.


With his Lords or the representatives of major Houses gathered, Robb sat at the circular stone table having placed Ice down in front of him.

"My Lords." He began. "Ser Brynden Tully has returned to us from King's Landing. The Targaryen King is amenable to peace provided we bend the knee."

There were a number of angry men around the table, none more so than Rickard Karstark. "We fought to end the line of the Targaryen's!" Rickard roared. "Why would we bend to them! Your family died at their hands!"

Robb simply held a hand up and gained the silence of the room. "We all have reasons to distrust House Targaryen, myself more than most. But did we also not just battle with one of our strongest allies less than a month back? Times change, as do alliances, and the sins of one's Father do not impact my opinion of the son."

"He's a sister fucking foreigner!" Rickard shouted. "They all were!"

"He's also married to Margaery Tyrell, with the backing of Dorne and now the entirety of the Stormlands, thanks to us." The Blackfish countered. "To refuse is not just to set one man upon us, but over a hundred thousand at least."

"We've thrown back armies of that size from the Moat before." Lord Flint of Flint's Finger responded to that. "We can do it again."

Robb again held his hand up as the cheers of defiance rang, waiting until he had the attention of the room before speaking again. "And what, Lord Flint, will we do when his dragon flies atop our heads and rains fire upon us all?" He asked ominously.

That gave the boisterous Northmen pause for a while. "Dragons?" Lord Flint looked scared.

"It's nonsense!" Rickard Karstark laughed. "Dragons have been dead for a century."

"It's true." The Blackfish stated bluntly. "I saw one of them black scaled and red tipped and eyeing me up like a piece of meat, and Lucerys Targaryen has three."

Robb almost heard the entire room gulp. "I was crowned by you at this table. I will only bend my knee if those at this table agree it is the right thing to do, but I have no wish to risk the North in a war with dragons, my ancestor King Torrhen saw the folly of that and ended 8,000 years of Kingship rather than risk his people.

A chair scrape was heard and Robb turned to see the Greatjon rise out of his seat. "It was the dragons we bowed to, and now the dragons are dead!" He shouted loudly, repeating his speech from Riverrun when Robb had gained his crown. "Ser Tully here is not a liar, and if he says the dragons are back, then they are." He ripped off his left glove and held his three fingered hand out for all to see to remind them of when he had questioned Robb years back in Winterfell. "King Robb has led us from victory to victory, we have won spoils and glory down in the South and generations of the flowery fuckers will remember the might of the North. But now is not the time for more war. Winter is Coming, and a long summer usually means a brutal winter. My lands are further North than any of you cunts, and they need preparing." He turned to Robb. "I will fight for our independence if you believe we can beat this dragon fucker, but there is no shame in bending to dragons. It was done before, it can be done again."

It was a strange message from the usually violent Lord Umber, but the Lord of Last Hearth's backing seemed to be changing minds. Not Rickard Karstark's though. "King Torrhen was reviled for his kneeling!" He called.

"And King Mern Gardener's entire House was destroyed for fighting!" Robb countered. "Lucerys Targaryen may not ride Balerion the Dread, but even without that monstrosity between his legs Houses are ending that fight against him. Houses all over Crackclaw Point are gone, House Baratheon is gone, it's only living member a girl chained to House Connington, a Targaryen puppet!" He looked at Rickard. "Lord Karstark, your daughter has already been used once for a claim to Winterfell, the signs point to her being used again once your grandchild is born and ripped away from her. Will you fight and see that happen or will you accept our victories and bend with the strength of our glory?"

Lord Harwood Stout rose then as the representative of Barrowton. "It's the Ironborn we must fight on with, My Lords. Not the Dragons."

Ayes rang around the chamber, and Robb agreed with him. "We've already a fleet being built in White Harbour. With the backing of the Royal Fleet and men from the South we can take the fighting to Balon Greyjoy. But we can't do that as well as prolong a war with the Red Keep." He then took to his feet, looking at the faces of everybody in the room. "I have sent word to Riverrun explaining the situation to Lord Tully, and I expect he will ride Northwards to meet with Lucerys Targaryen when he makes his way to see us. He will make his decisions for the Riverlands, but I wish to know where the North stands."

Lord Umber rose as well. "All those in favour of letting the dragon's pretend they rule over the North and bringing peace to the mainland?" He asked. And the vast majority of the room voiced their agreement. "And those against?"

It was just Lord Karstark by then. Robb was pleased. "Very well." The soon to be former King in the North announced. "Thank you everyone, for firstly placing your faith in me to rule you but also to accept that this is the way to move forwards. We still have time before I bend my knee and remove my crown, and so we still have work to do…" A relieved Robb then went into explaining the North's future actions, which started with a force travelling back to Winterfell to reclaim the castle.


The King and Queen's trip to Dragonstone passed smoothly despite the castle's new castellan Harry Strickland butting heads with the Targaryen every other day, and after the refreshing few weeks without a worry of ruling, Luke and Margaery had to settle back into their roles. Luke especially found himself in his solar for hours at a time going through papers and settling all kinds of trivial disputes from land boundaries to potential weddings between minor Crownland houses, so after a couple of weeks of what seemed like nonstop work he was glad to be interrupted by a knock on the door and an announcement that Balaq was wishing to speak with him.

Gesturing his friend inside and pouring them both wine, Luke handed the goblet over and took a sip of his own before saying. "Seeing you here, now, I've been far too preoccupied with ruling, haven't I? I haven't seen you and the other Company members close to as much as I should have."

"We understand." Balaq shrugged, his accent thick. "But some of us have been speaking. We wish to return to Volon Therys."

The name of the city he had once called home sent chills down Luke's spine. "How many?" He asked.

Balaq shrugged again. "5,000 or so, mainly the men that haven't settled down here on the mainland. Your guard force on Dragonstone are happy, plenty of men in the city have found women and enjoy their policing work, but some of us still hunger for our old lives."

Luke respected that and realised that it still left the majority of those that had sailed with him across the Narrow Sea remaining in Westeros. "There's nothing I can do to persuade you to stay, is there?" He knew the answer but had to try.

"We have had a good year." Balaq grinned. "History will remember us as the first from the Company to invade and win the Sunset Kingdoms. But Maar has been speaking of a new war in the Disputed Lands and Lys want our aid."

Lys was still ruled by Valarra's family, so Luke almost immediately was inclined to help. "Very well then." He began scribbling some things down on clean parchment sheets. "Give this one to the Royal Steward, he will start arranging for the Company ships to be supplied." He then scribbled out another note. "Then have this taken to the Royal Crier, some of the people of the City may wish to join up, all expenses paid for by the Crown." He thought some more and added a final line. "That offer will stand for as long as I am King. Any man that wishes to join the Company shall do so, I won't forget any of you." He handed Balaq both of the letters and then stood up to hug his long-time friend and ally. "Congratulations Captain-General." Luke grinned.

Balaq to his credit wasn't surprised. "It was a true honour serving under you, Your Grace." He finally used the title before bowing.

"None of that." Luke waved away. "You are no longer my subject, we part as allies and as equals" They then shook hands. "And I want to be kept updated on where you are. Should I ever need your services…"

"Then you will pay like the rest." Balaq grinned, causing Luke to laugh aloud. "You have your fancy knights now, you won't need us."

Luke hoped that would be the case, but in his mind there was a lingering doubt. "Never say never." The Targaryen said ominously.


The ships set sail a week after that conversation, and Luke made sure that he was there on the docks to watch as the Volantene ships sailed out of Blackwater Bay. Jon hadn't been overly happy with giving back the entirety of the Company's fleet, but Luke couldn't bring himself to commandeer anything other than the Vhaegon, which by rights was his anyway. Even the elephants went back with Chains, leaving the position of chief Gaoler among a handful of other minor ones needing to be filled, mainly by Oberyn as Master of Laws.

"Are you alright?" Luke heard his sister ask from his side. Turning to face her, he noticed that she looked sad too.

"They were my family before I found you again." Luke explained. "I'll never deny them their freedom, but it seems strange now that our paths are so separate." He sighed, before offering his arm for Dany to take as they walked back to the Red Keep. "I grew up in the Company, for almost 20 years I was one of them, now I am a King and they need to make their own way."

Dany smiled from beside him as they rose up the steps of the private docks. "You'll always look back on that time with fondness though, Luke." She tried to soothe him. "Can you tell me a story? You don't talk about the times before we met often."

That was true, and Luke began to rack his brain for an interesting one, before he smiled. "Have I ever told you how I became Captain-General?"

"No." Dany answered.

Luke chuckled as he remembered. "Myles Toyne had raised me to replace him, but there were those that disagreed. Not enough to stop my ascension but enough that it was a sizable part of our force. Anyway, my first night in my new tent and I hear arguing from outside. Jon and a man called Laswell Peake were raging at one another when I got outside Peake started some speech about the Blackfyre's and that I was an affront to all the Company stood for. He unsheathed his sword at me and challenged me to a duel for control." Luke smirked as he remembered the fight. "I didn't have Blackfyre then but I was still very good, and I won the fight, taking Peake's head and held it aloft for all the Blackfyre loyalists to see."

"There were many?" Dany asked.

Luke remembered the smell of the dozens of pyres that followed that victory vividly. "Not for long." He told her darkly. "I rooted them out one by one and ended any lingering loyalty to the black dragon."

There was a silence that followed that statement, but as they reached the top of the stairs and began to enter into the gardens Dany summed up his own thoughts. "Good."

"But enough of that darkness." Luke quickly tried to change the subject. "You need to tell me something."

"I do?"

Luke smirked. "Is Talisa going to accept?"

Ned Dayne had finally received permission to seek out a betrothal with the Volantene noblewoman, but he was remaining close lipped to Luke whenever the King wanted some gossip. He didn't get a response however, as running towards them was the out of breath royal steward. "Your Grace!" He panted. "Your Grace!"

"What is it, Jaremy?" Luke asked with annoyance.

The man halted in front of them and leant over to catch his breath. "A summons… from Lord Connington. An emergency Council meeting…"

Groaning, Luke nodded. "I'll head straight there." He told the steward before turning to Dany. "I'm sorry."

"Go." Dany smiled. "Duty calls."

Nodding, Luke released his sisters arm and followed the panting steward, wondering what could be so bad to warrant an emergency council session.


Everyone was already inside the chamber behind the Throne Room when Luke arrived, and so the Targaryen quickly waited for everyone to bow as he sat down. "What was so urgent?" All eyes turned to Varys, and so Luke immediately guessed that there was some pressing information. "Come on, spit it out." He added frustratedly.

"Your Grace…" Varys began, before sighing and seemingly deciding to just get on with it. "News from the North, Your Grace. I've placed a little bird inside Karhold. It seems Alys Karstark was sent away from Stannis Baratheon's war camp."

Luke wanted to groan. "Why do I care if Baratheon fell out with his Northern whore." He asked in annoyance.

"There wasn't a falling out." Jon said from beside Luke. He was grumpier than normal.

"She's…" Varys was faltering again. "It seems… The first thing she did was go to the Maester before being hurried out of the castle once more. It's still early days but Lady Karstark is with child."

The room was deathly quiet as all eyes now turned to the King. Luke simply closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Say again." He whispered through clenched teeth.

"Stannis Baratheon has a child on the way." Varys said blunter this time.

"No." Luke said softly, his right hand clenching into a fist. "No. No, no NO!" He roared the final one, slamming his fist down on the table and knocking the nearest goblets to him over. "Not another fucking stag. No!" He slammed his chair back so forcefully that it also toppled to the ground on its side. Turning to Varys he pointed a finger accusingly "How certain are you?"

"Extremely." Varys nodded.

"FUCK!" Luke kicked his already toppled chair, hurting his foot in the process. He began to pace as his council started discussing options, from legitimising the child as a Karstark, ordering it to the Night's Watch or the Faith, or even a termination as suggested by Mace Tyrell.

"You would incite the entire North against us." Jon countered that point. "In the middle of peace talks no less."

"My Lord, it is your titles that this threatens if the child is a boy." Varys reminded Connington.

Jon looked like he was about to murder somebody. "And yet I still will not resort to murdering an unborn child simply for the sake of my security."

"Enough!" Luke roared out. "I will not commit the same orders that the Usurper tried for my brother and sister when they ran from his knives. We have the Lannister bastards in our grip, we can keep the Baratheon here too."

"Insist on having the babe as a hostage?" Ser Barristan asked.

"Yes, Ser." Luke nodded firmly. "If Robb Stark wants his sister back, he will give us the Karstark girl and the babe. They will remain here until the child is of age being educated by us rather than anybody who would foster the scent of rebellion inside the child, and then they will be shipped to wherever I deem necessary to quell whatever lingering hopes of rulership remains in that treacherous house."

"Stark won't like being dictated too." Oberyn reminded everyone.

But Luke didn't care about that, so narrow was his focus. "Stark will deal with it." He stated coolly. "Jon, King's Landing is in your hands now."

"Your Grace… you can send an envoy." Mace Tyrell protested.

"No!" Luke snapped. "Ser Brynden was correct, an envoy can't truly settle things quickly when their King is hundreds of miles away. I shall go North with a host, and one way or another the North and the Riverlands will fall under my rulership by the time I return." He took a deep breath to try and calm himself, but that wasn't working either. "Ser Barristan. Prepare two other members of the Kingsguard to join me along with yourself. We leave tomorrow."

"It's a long journey, give yourself time…" Jon began

"Tomorrow!" Luke snapped once more. "I will take Ser Loras and his men."

He ignored Mace Tyrell's proud smile as he stormed out of the room. His first port of call would be to gather the provisions needed and to let his squire know, and afterwards he would go to the yard and pretend whoever was opposite him was another Baratheon he needed to crush.


Far to the North and after ravens had been sent all around the North and the Riverlands, Robb finally managed to mount his horse and depart Moat Cailin, leaving a hefty number of men there led by Ser Brynden Tully. Arya and Catelyn had been summoned along with Edmure Tully and as many Riverland Lords as wished to be there. Winterfell called Robb though, and with a cavalry force of a couple of hundred he departed up the Kingsroad.

They had barely travelled a day however when they reached a large camp still flying the flamed stag banners of Stannis Baratheon, and a quick skirmish followed as the handful of Stormlander guards put up the final fight of Stannis Baratheon's bid for the throne unsuccessfully. The tent they were guarding however was one of great interest to Robb.

Walking inside with only Grey Wind beside him, he saw his former friend tied to a pole. Theon Greyjoy looked like shit, with unkempt and unruly hair and a wispy beard, with mud all over his clothing and face. The Greyjoy barely even looked up, something which angered Robb all the more.

"After everything you've done." Robb snarled. "You can't have the decency to look at me." Theon peered upwards, his eyes bloodshot. "Why?" Was all Robb asked. "We treated you like kin, like a brother. Why would you betray us like that? Why would you kill Bran? Little Rickon?" Theon simply let out a croak and opened his mouth to show a severed tongue before shaking his head and trying to strain out two syllables. Sighing, Robb continued. "I should just leave you to Grey Wind, he would finish you off exactly like you deserve." Grey Wind began snarling. "But you were still my friend once, and I will make your death swift." He then turned to call outside. "Prepare a block!"

Less than three minutes later Theon had been dragged outside and shoved to the ground, his neck placed over a wooden block. Robb had already withdrawn Ice and had adopted the pose that his Father had every time he was forced to execute anybody. He silently said a prayer to the Old Gods before he spoke once more. "For the crimes of murder and treason, I, Robb of the House Stark. Lord of Winterfell and King in the North, sentence you to die." Robb then took a deep breath before adjusting his grip on the Valyrian Steel Greatsword and swinging fiercely, the sharp blade slicing through Theon's neck with ease.

In what became a hazy blur, Robb felt like he was out of his own body as he ordered the head to be tarred and boxed up before gathering any valuable items from the camp before razing it to the ground, and as he mounted his horse once more with Theon's head in his saddle packs, he felt a tear drop from his eye as he thought on achieving vengeance for his younger brothers.


The story of Vigilance baffles me because I can't see anywhere to actually tell me that the sword was lost, so give the Hightower's fell from influence after the Dance I'm saying that the sword often stayed in the Hightower apart from the odd occasion.

Some Northern housekeeping too after such a big battle, but the scene with the Blackfish was a fun one. I'm a huge Robb fan as everyone knows so getting him to sit down and just listen to some advice is probably a bit of wish fulfilment from my side given his end in the books and the show, but I genuinely think he could have been an excellent leader if he had survived and these stories give me a chance to do just that. The Northern Council was also a fun one to write, mainly for the proud arguing that is inevitable in such meetings. Let's remember that they've been away from their lands for 2 years however, and Winter is Coming. The funniest part for me was here, where I got to use the phrase 'monstrosity between his legs' and genuinely mean a dragon rather than the other thing that everyone is now thinking about.

I didn't want to turn the Golden Company into an overpowered Gold Cloak force, so sending those back to Essos that wanted the fight and the glory made sense to me. I'm sure they'll be back though…

Dany and Luke talking again mixed with the Golden Company departing gave me a chance to expand on Luke's pre-story history too. In lore the Golden Company is obviously a Blackfyre loyal group, so having a Targaryen coming in and taking over wouldn't have been universally popular. Having Luke prove himself by slaughtering them all just adds to both his ruthless nature and his family loyalty. He still gets his dragons blood over the thought of a Baratheon left to hurt him though, and it leads him to rash decisions like burning a child or abandoning the capital early to go and sort out the North.

Finally, RIP Theon. Robb would ever allow him to live after thinking that he murdered Bran and Rickon as well as torching Winterfell. Obviously we know he didn't do it, but House Bolton weren't going to make it easy for Robb to find out the truth were they…

Thank you all for reading the chapter and I hope you all enjoyed it!

Next Time: History repeats as the King in the North meets with the conquering Valyrian.

Reviews:

Zhorvak: Honestly, deadly weddings in Westeros aren't that common, it just seems like that in the books/show because they happened so often! Many people may want Luke dead now and more might do later on, but for now he got to celebrate his union without worry of being murdered.

Anaconda: Thank you!

Tony McNucklz: He's not unwilling to fight, he would just rather settle everything without it. If he fights everybody that might potentially disagree with him then he's going to start a lot more fights than if he goes the peaceful route. It won't be a weak peace though. Margaery doesn't get the Targaryen name no, I know my lore well enough for that.

Guest (show!canon): You must have high standards if you're disappointed with Natalie Dormer. She's a stunning woman.

cleito: Hmm… an interesting thought…