Two Months Later

In the courtyard, Bellegere watched Rickon spar with another boy around his age.

When he swung his wooden sword, he overstretched, falling onto his stomach.

She halted the fight and tried to help him up, but he would not have it.

"I know you're embarrassed, but it is not your fault. You haven't been trained."

Rickon stared down at his feet.

He wasn't much for talking nowadays.

"You must think of your blade as a part of your body. It is your very own arm," Bellegere said in a kind tone.

She retrieved his sword and adjusted his grip.

"When you attack, imagine you're reaching out to touch them. Also, refrain from swinging wildly. Choose which part of your foes' body you wish to touch and be patient. A fight is just as much a battle of the mind as it is violence."

Rickon nodded, feeling much less embarrassed.

When he went back to sparring, someone strolled up beside her.

"What is a fine queen such as yourself doing out here, trudging around in the mud?"

She openly admired her husband for a moment.

His thick beard and loving gaze. His long hair gently swaying behind him in the breeze.

His plump lips pulled over his teeth when he caught her staring. The light blush on his cheekbones pleased her greatly.

"King Brynden the Tall," Bellegere said, smirking.

He chuckled at the title.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Queen Belle the Butcher," Brynden said, bowing dramatically. "I'm simply here to admire your patience. How long have you been training him?"

She laughed lightly.

"Ever since he returned, of course. Rickon is a Stark and all members of House Stark must learn the sword. It teaches character."

After a moment, Bellegere glanced at him, frowning. He was smiling a bit too widely.

"Has something come up?"

Brynden placed a hand on her lower back and she allowed him to guide her away from the courtyard.

"Someone has arrived for you, beloved. I think you will be quite pleased."

When Bellegere entered the main hall, she saw a young woman standing near her throne.

She was short and stick thin, with dark hair.

A long, skinny blade sat at her hip.

"Arya Stark," she called out.

Her voice trembled.

"Where the hell have you been?"

When the girl turned around, her gray eyes widened ever so slightly.

Last she saw Bellegere, she was unblemished and unscarred. Now, she resembled the true warrior that she always knew her sister would be.

Dressed in muddy armor, and scarred by war, she looked intimidating, but love oozed from her eye as it always had.

"Belle."

Without saying another word, Arya rushed to her.

Bellegere grunted as she was hugged tightly.

She wrapped her arms around the shorter woman, nuzzling her as if she were still the little girl she remembered her to be.

"You're alive," Bellegere whispered hoarsely. "You're here."

Without looking at her face, Arya knew that she was crying. She could feel it in the way her body stiffened and trembled.

Arya understood that pain.

It was a pain she could never rid herself of.

She squeezed her eldest sister tighter as if that would take it away.

"I am, and I'm not leaving any time soon."

Bellegere held onto her, although her guards were present. At this point, she didn't care who saw her vulnerabilities.

Her little sister, her youngest sister, was alive and well. The one who followed her everywhere she went and looked at her as if she were Nymeria herself.

When Bellegere finally released Arya, her expression was stern.

"Tell me. Where have you been? I've been worried sick over you."

Arya grinned.

"Most of my time was spent in Braavos, at the House of Black and White."

Having visited her family in Braavos many times throughout her life, she knew exactly what that entailed. She examined her with a new respect.

There was a familiar darkness in her eyes.

"Valar Morghulis," Bellegere said, bowing.

"Valar Dohaeris, your grace," Arya said, smiling faintly. "I heard you were Queen in the North on my way to King's Landing, and I had to see for myself. The title suits you."

Bellegere shook her head fondly.

"You've yet to see me rule. How can you say that with confidence?"

"Well, you have a king consort and two princes," she said, raising a brow. "That means you forsook your true love for duty, and you bore children, even though you said you never would."

When her jaw clenched, Arya assumed the worst.

"If the king mistreats you, I can be of service."

She chuckled at her readiness to protect her.

"I do not deserve the man Brynden has become. I love him deeply, and I love our children more than life itself," Bellegere said reassuringly.

She paused and continued in a whisper.

"However, I'm still mourning the loss of a love that could have been."

Arya placed a hand on her shoulder.

"And, how is that faring?"

Bellegere inhaled deeply, taking her time to reply.

"I find myself less tormented each day," she said with a small smile.

"Now, I must interrupt our meeting to tell you that Sansa, as well as Rickon and Jon, have returned home."

Arya's face lit up immediately.

"Come, little sister. Let us convene with our siblings as we did in olden days."

That night, as they all gathered to have dinner as a family, Bellegere held her husband's hand beneath the table.

Brynden witnessed the brightest smile grace her lips while she laughed with her siblings. He was in awe of how carefree she was.

"So, King Brynden," Arya said abruptly, gaining his attention. "My sister and brother tell me you enjoy training. Perhaps you and I could spar some time? If you don't mind losing, that is."

A small smile tugged at his lips.

"I never balk at a competition."

"Be careful, your grace," Jon said, smirking at his sister. "I've a feeling she won't fight fair."

Arya rose a brow at him.

"If by that you mean I'm probably faster than most men, then yes. You're correct."

"While I may be considered a giant, I've been told that I'm quick on my feet," Brynden countered with a grin.

"I doubt I'll have any problems facing you."

Arya hummed, furrowing her brows.

"I'm sure Bellegere said that to make you feel better about losing to a woman. She told me her favorite pasttime is kicking your ass."

When Brynden blushed and glared at his wife, Jon and Arya burst out laughing.

He couldn't help but join in with them.

Bellegere shared an amused glance with Sansa and rolled her eyes fondly.

Beside her, Rickon stuffed his face with beef stew like a starved animal. Only stopping to listen to his family's conversations. She lovingly ruffled his curly hair and shared a smile with him.

The queen leaned against her husband's shoulder as he bantered with Jon and Arya.

Happy and almost content.

There was still one brother missing.

Bellegere hoped that wherever Brandon might be, he was safe and protected.

She prayed he would find his way back home.

lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

"Lady Melisandre will arrive in Meereen soon, I'm sure," Mya Stone said, rocking in her chair.

Queen Bellegere nodded distractedly.

"I pray for her safety and swift return."

"Do you really trust her to represent you, your grace? You don't think she'll betray you?"

Bellegere sighed as she breastfed her youngest son, Torrhen. He stared up at her with familiar mismatched eyes. Half blind, like her.

At her feet, Cregan and Alys played with Runa. Two babes with black curls and gray eyes. They looked like siblings.

"Melisandre and I have an understanding. She uses me to fulfill her prophecies, and I use her for her uncanny incite," she said honestly.

"I trust her to do what is in her best interest, and helping me procure an alliance with the dragon queen is in her best interest."

"And if betraying you is in her best interest?"

Bellegere shrugged.

"Melisandre is no fool. If she ever wishes to leave my service, all she has to do is resign as my Hand."

She nodded, although she would never trust the red witch.

"I understand, your grace."

As silence fell over the room, Mya Stone watched their children play together with a somber expression.

Ever since the battle for Winterfell, she and Belle had been distant with each other.

It was not Bellegere's fault, but her own.

After her son and Ser Royce died, Mya fell into an immense sadness that made her isolate herself from everyone. She did not leave her room or talk to anyone for months. Some days, she still found it difficult to leave her bed in the morning.

Although Bellegere tried to comfort her, she would not let allow it.

Mya never loved Royce the way he loved her, although she tried. But, she did care for him as a person. She considered him one of the greatest men she'd ever known.

His death took him away from their daughter, who he loved immensely, and Bellegere, who he also loved.

Now, Mya was forced to raise Alys without him.

Now, she was forced to watch the woman she wanted thrive with her handsome, loving husband, and have children without any problems at all.

All the while, she feared ever trying again.

Sometimes she wondered if she was cursed.

"I don't want to be a handmaid anymore."

Bellegere rose a brow at her outburst.

"I want to fight for you when you go to war again," Mya said, adamantly.

"I chose to marry and start a family for my own good, but I've never been the type of woman to hide away in a castle while battle rages around me."

Bellegere frowned.

"You have a child."

"You have two, and a husband," Mya said pointedly. "You have more to lose than I do."

The queen closed her mouth immediately, feeling bad for bringing that up.

"I'm sick of being forced to watch everyone risk their lives, when I know that I'm just as capable," Mya said passionately.

"Being stuck in Winterfell, performing the same duties, day in and day out, is driving me insane. I can't do it anymore. I want to fight."

Bellegere knew what she was really saying.

Watching her with Brynden was driving Mya mad, and, although she loved their children, she couldn't handle being reminded of the one she lost.

Bellegere understood this, but she didn't like the thought of her on the battlefield. Even with the knowledge that her friend was a great fighter.

She wanted to tell her no and to never bring up the topic again. However, it was not her decision to make anymore. If she refused her, it would be a massive display of hypocrisy.

"This is your choice, whether I like it or not," the queen said reluctantly. "Whatever you choose to do, I will respect it."

Mya released a deep breath.

"Thank you, your grace. Truly."

Bellegere did not speak, but she didn't have to. She could feel her emotional landscape.

The queen worried about Mya and her daughter, of course. She didn't want her to be harmed, or to leave her child without a mother.

However, most of all, she could tell that Bellegere did not love her as she once did.

It was becoming more apparent with every distant conversation they held.

Mya swallowed her despair like a thousand razor blades as the queen's giant of a husband walked into the room.

She hated the smile that split Bellegere's face.

"Good morrow, beloved."

"Husband," the queen greeted him.

Brynden kissed his wife and son's foreheads, and then picked up Cregan as the boy hugged his leg.

"Good morrow, Lady Mya," he said, smiling at her kindly. "How're you today?"

She didn't look at him.

"Fine, your grace."

Bellegere frowned, noticing her harsh tone.

"May I be dismissed, my queen," Mya asked, glaring at the door. "I wish to be alone."

She studied her for a moment, wanting to confront her for her lack of decorum, but the look on her husband's face told her to let it go.

"You may."

When Mya left the room, Brynden sat down beside Bellegere with a look of consternation on his face.

"She seems rather upset. Did something happen between you two?"

"In a manner of speaking," Bellegere said quietly.

"You remember I told you about our past relationship? I believe she's still sore about it."

Brynden nodded thoughtfully.

"So, Mya still loves you, and she hates me as a consequence."

Bellegere sighed to herself, placing Torrhen back into his crib.

"That is one way to describe it."

A long silence reigned, with only the sound of the children and the snoring Runa.

"I have to ask," Brynden said, staring at her curiously. "Are you still in love with her?"

Bellegere held his gaze.

"I love Mya very much, but I am not in love with her. My heart has been given to another."

Brynden nodded, knowing she was being honest.

"Oh, really? Is there someone else I need to be aware of?"

"Aye, he is a strapping king, as tall as a draft horse," Bellegere said, leaning closer to him.

"He just so happens to be my husband and the father of my children."

"Hmm, I hope he doesn't mind sharing you."

Brynden kissed her lovingly while Cregan giggled and tugged at his thick beard.

When he pulled away, his expression was more serious than before.

"Mya has been through so much, including losing you," he said, pursing his lips.

"She's helped us raise our children and, before that, she stuck by you for years. I don't know her very well, but it saddens me to see that she is so anguished."

"Me too. Every time I try to comfort her, she pushes me away. I don't know what else to do," Bellegere said, shaking her head.

"Today she said she wants to be a member of my army, and I know in my heart it's not for the right reasons."

Brynden frowned deeply.

"What do you mean?"

Bellegere glanced at baby Alys, who had fallen asleep on Runa's belly. Her wolf gently sniffed the child for a moment before lying back down.

"I think Mya doesn't want to live for much longer," she muttered. "She's lost too much."

Brynden squeezed his wife's shoulder as sadness took over her features. Seeing her so worried put him on edge.

"I swear to watch out for her as best I can when the time comes."

Bellegere looked at him in disbelief.

"Why would you do that? She openly shows disdain towards you."

"Because you love her," Brynden stated plainly. "And little Alys has already lost her father. I won't let her lose her mother too."

Bellegere sighed with a small smile tugging at her lips. His capacity for compassion and sympathy were admirable.

"You're an honorable man, my love. I wish Mya could see that."

He smiled as she kissed his cheek.

"My father always told me that being a good man is a choice," Brynden said thoughtfully.

"Regardless of whether you recieve recognition or not, you always choose to do what is right."

In that moment, Bellegere saw a glimpse of Eddard Stark in him.

It made her happy, but also unsettled her.

"I agree, but don't ever expect other people to be as honorable as you," she warned him.

"That is where my father went wrong, and we see what happened to him. Don't make the same mistake he did."

Brynden nodded, smiling fondly.

"I know," he said.

"I learned that by watching you."

Meereen

"You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the first of her name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, and the Breaker of Chains."

Lady Melisandre bowed her head respectfully beneath the gaze of the dragon queen.

"Queen Daenerys. I was a slave once, bought and sold, scourged and branded. It is an honor to meet the Breaker of Chains," she said in High Valyrian.

Daenerys smiled slightly.

"The Red Priests helped bring peace to Meereen. You are very welcome here. What is your name?"

"I am called Melisandre," she said, pausing.

"The Long Night is coming, and the dead come with it. Only the prince or princess who was promised can bring the dawn."

Daenerys rose a brow.

"And you think this prophecy refers to me?"

"Prophecies are a dangerous thing. I believe you have a role to play. As does another," she said, clasping her hands. "The Queen in the North, Bellegere Stark."

When Daenerys stiffened, she did not miss it.

"Why do you think the Lord of Light singled her out, aside from the visions you see in the flames, that is," Tyrion asked skeptically.

Her red gaze intensified as she lifted her chin.

"With my own flesh, I felt her summon her gods. With my own eyes, I saw her raise her brother from the dead," Melisandre said, raising her brows.

"I witnessed her gain the loyalty of the wildings beyond the wall, in one encounter. So much so that they fought alongside her in a battle to protect her home. I watched as thousands of men, enemies and allies, bent the knee and proclaimed her the first Queen in the North."

She paused for effect.

"Most of all, I have seen her display profound cruelness when needed and overwhelming kindness when necessary.

I chose to follow her because R'hllor urged me to, but I swore myself to her because of what she stands for as a woman and a queen."

With the way the Red Priestess talked about the Stark, Daenerys would've thought she was a goddess in the flesh.

A small, green monster reared it's head within her, but she shoved it down.

The blood of the dragon does not know envy.

"She sounds like quite the woman," Daenerys said, pursing her lips.

"However, the raven I recieved mentioned an alliance. What would that entail?"

Melisandre smiled faintly.

"You're correct, Queen Bellegere is a force to be reckoned with," she said in a serious tone.

"As a daughter of House Otherys, she has correspondended with the Black Pearl of Braavos and procured her allegiance to House Targaryen. Lady Narha Otherys wishes to offer you a fleet of two hundred ships and men to sail them, and the chance to be funded by the Iron Bank of Braavos."

Tyrion shifted in his seat and shared a glance with his queen. Neither could believe what they were hearing. It was too good to be true.

"And why would House Otherys risk so much for me just because your queen asked them to," Daenerys asked skeptically.

"Interaction between our houses ended with Aegon the Unworthy and your queen's namesake, Bellegere Otherys the First."

Melisandre admired her knowledge of history.

"Bellanora Otherys was the former Black Pearl, but she died giving birth to Bellegere. The current Black Pearl is the queen's aunt, and would do anything for her niece. She is the last piece of Bellanora," she stated plainly.

"Also, Narha is drowning in gold and ships. What she gives you will not be missed. Not to mention, when you sit the iron throne, her allegiance to you will bring lucrative trade opportunities. Any way you look at it, this alliance is beneficial for her."

She patiently waited as the queen and her Hand whispered back and forth with one another for a long moment.

"If I were to accept, I assume your queen expects me to insure the North will remain independent," Daenerys said, titling her head. "And, I also wish to know if there will be any marriage demands?"

"No, her grace is happily married. In fact, the couple welcomed a second son several months ago," Melisandre chuckled lightly.

Tyrion gulped his wine when the queen gave him a sidelong glance.

At the same time, he noticed the envy and sadness that she hid behind her mask of regalia.

For, Bellegere possessed something Daenerys never could or would.

Children of her own.

"In exchange for aiding you in your pursuit to sit the iron throne, she asks for your help in defeating the army of the dead. And yes, she does ask that you honor her title as the Queen in the North. A fair trade, in my lowly opinion."

Daenerys nodded thoughtfully.

Everything she needed to sail to Westeros and retake her family's throne was at her fingertips.

Yet, she hesitated.

To agree with these terms was to lose one of the kingdoms that was rightfully her's. She asked herself if protecting her ego was worth losing all seven kingdoms.

Abruptly, Daenerys stood from her throne and met her guest at the bottom of the dais.

She extended her hand with a small smile.

"I accept and agree to Queen Bellegere's terms," Daenerys declared. "This gesture of loyalty and good faith by House Stark and House Otherys will not be forgotten."

The priestess took her hand firmly and stepped in closer. The click of boots echoed in the room as the Unsullied prepared to protect their queen.

"Once you reach Dragonstone, I urge you to summon Bellegere," Melisandre said quietly.

"So that you might understand why you shouldn't break your word to her."

Daenerys sneered at her now.

"Is that a threat?"

"No, your grace. Only a warning," she said sincerely as their eyes locked.

"Honor is everything to her grace. So if you plan to pursue the North once all is said and done, I suggest that you reject this offer here and now. You may have dragons, but the power of the gods hangs from her shoulders like a cloak. A heavy burden that she carries with unrivaled grace."

Daenerys remembered the dream that haunted her months ago, and how it unsettled her. Now she was being warned by a priestess of R'hllor.

Perhaps, Tyrion's rumors were fact.

"Fine. I will summon her."

Melisandre bowed respectfully.

"If you don't mind, I must send a raven to Lady Narha and Queen Bellegere informing them of your acceptance," she said dutifully.

"Upon the arrival of said ravens, your ships and your appointment with the Iron Bank should arrive quickly."

"You may go, Lady Melisandre. It was a pleasure."

When she exited the hall, Daenerys remained standing in the middle of the room.

Dumbfounded by all that she gained and lost in one meeting. The meeting left her feeling excited and bamboozeled all at once.

"You will sit the iron throne within two years, if not less, your grace," Tyrion said in disbelief.

"This is a wonderful turn of events after the last two years. It seems our luck has changed."

She nodded solemnly.

"But at what cost?"

The Hand sipped his wine.

"Your pride," Tyrion chuckled dryly.

"What a high price to pay. But, oh my, the benefits you shall reap."