A reminder that we are into Season 6 now, and so Valaxes (Drogon) is roughly the same size he was when Daenerys found him in Episode 6 and burned the ships in Episode 9. Viserion and Rhaegal would be similar sizes because they haven't been in captivity, which is why Daenerys was riding so much earlier (she's a smaller and lighter person so could manage that)

If anybody listens to music while reading this, then I would wholeheartedly recommend 'You Know Nothing' from the Season 3 soundtrack for the third scene of this chapter. It's what I put on as I wrote it.

Bold speech is High Valyrian.

I own nothing but the OC's. All other characters and locations are the property of George R R Martin and/or HBO.

The shock of seeing the Red Woman hadn't worn off before she began shepherding the rest of the occupants of the room outside. Jaime felt speechless as he walked back down the wooden steps to the courtyard, constantly looking back at the room with an open mouth. Mance had followed him and joined him, while Ygritte had built up her barriers again and shoved one of Jaime's brothers off of the grinding stone and had begun to sharpen her arrow heads.

"None among us hope this works more than her." Mance stated quietly as they both looked at the red-head. "She's been pestering the Red Woman all the way up here trying to learn the secrets of the ritual."

"What ritual?" Jaime asked, perplexed. "What is going on?" He was baffled. Less than twenty minutes earlier the Kingslayer had been facing down his death, yet now the Wildlings seemed to have found a way to cheat it.

Mance chuckled. "You've heard of that Storm Lord, Dondarrion?"

Jaime nodded. "He died at the Mummer's Ford."

"Did he?" Mance asked with mirth in his eyes. "I hear differently. I hear that he walked away from that he's a man who can't be killed, a man that roams the Riverlands in service to King Robert Baratheon righting the wrongs of the soldiers."

Jaime wanted to snort in derision. "No man can come back to life, Mance. It's lunacy."

"He had a Red Priest with him." Mance countered. "I've lived my life in the North it's true, but I know enough about the rest of the world to know that the Red Priests in Volantis have power."

Jaime remembered the only Red Priest he had ever met. "The one I know is a drunk, he had lost all belief in his God other than the courage he found at the bottom of his cups."

Mance smirked again. "Yet that same priest that you fought with on Pyke is said to have revived this Storm Lord, brought him back with the Last Kiss because the Lord of Light is not done with him yet. Lady Melody is willing to try the same, for if there is any man on this land that we cannot lose before the storms arrive, it is Jon Snow."

"And if this doesn't work?" Jaime asked, still unbelieving.

Mance sighed. "I'm committed to beating the White Walkers, Lannister. I shall only hope that you Crows are equally as committed and can finish what Snow started."

That brought on a whole new set of internal questions for Jaime. If Jon couldn't be brought back then who would lead them? Thorne was the obvious choice, but he was dead and Jaime would see the rest of the traitorous officers executed immediately after Jon's funeral. Following that, then there was Denys Mallister and Cotter Pyke perhaps, but neither of them seemed capable of leading the men through the Long Night to come. Other than the current commanders of other castles, Jaime couldn't think of anybody with the leadership skills and the willingness to take command.

Mance noticed the silence. "Your lack of retort makes the importance of this clear. Jon Snow must survive, or else we all may be doomed."

Jaime didn't have the confidence to disagree, and they remained in silence together staring up at the doors, hoping one way or another that whatever magics the Red Woman was using, they worked.

Just as he had done when he returned to the Red Keep after destroying the Sept of Baelor, Lucerys arrived at his large castle on dragon back, landing in the main courtyard. Valaxes was bigger now though and the courtyard seemed small in comparison to the beast. Unchaining himself from the dragon and dismounting, Luke made sure to pat Valaxes on its head. "Stay close, Valaxes, in case I need to teach a lesson." He said in his native tongue, before turning to one of the red cloaks who looked absolutely petrified. "Go and fetch the Kingsguard and the Hand of the King. Tell them I want to see them all in the Throne Room."

"At once, My King." He said before running off.

Another Red Cloak was next to receive instructions. "You must go to the Queen and the Small Council. Tell them that they are to wait until I summon them."

"As you command, Your Grace." The man bowed his head before also running into the castle.

Luke then pulled the hood up of his riding cloak, the dark fabric masking his appearance for the most part. He made his way to his private chambers and retrieved the crown of Aegon the Conqueror, placing it atop his head. Next he retrieved Blackfyre, fastening the scabbard to his belt along with the Valyrian Steel dagger of his ancestors that he had taken to Dragonstone. Feeling regal enough, Luke then made his way down to the Throne Room alone, getting there just before anybody else. Luke unfastened Blackfyre once more as he sat down on the Throne, holding the blade of his ancestors so that the point was on the stone floor beneath him, waiting.

The first to arrive was Ser Caspor Hill, closely followed by Ser Symon Cressey and Ser Franklyn Flowers. Next was the Queen's personal Kingsguard Ser Taron Edgerton, before finally the last White Cloak left in the castle, Ser Raymund Connington, arrived with the Hand of the King.

The Kingsguard immediately got into their places beneath the Iron Throne, leaving Jon as the only one in the room facing the famous seat. "Your Grace." He bowed his head. "You have returned then."

"I have." Luke stated bluntly. "With a clear head, and a renewed purpose."

Jon sighed. "Do you have any idea how stupid running away was?" He asked. "I know you were worried, but…"

"I shall be the one to speak, Lord Hand." Luke interrupted coldly.

Jon froze for a moment, before he bowed his head down. "As you wish, Your Grace." The greying Storm Lord said.

Luke took a moment before he continued. "I can never repay what you did for me as a child, Jon. You know that as well as I. You saved my life, raised me to be a strong and capable commander of the Golden Company, a leader of men. I will always appreciate that and you will always have a place at my side, I want you to remember that before I continue."

"Raising you was never a hardship, Your Grace." Jon said.

"You were the only father figure I had. I was never going to consider King Aerys to be a father, despite him spilling himself in my mother to birth me." Luke continued. "Which is why I feel so betrayed."

"I would never betray you, Luke." Jon insisted, taking a step forwards. That was met by unsheathed swords as the Kingsguard warned the Hand of the King to remain where he was.

"Then listen to me when I come to you with a fucking warning!" Luke exclaimed. "An attack on my family is treason, not just an attack on myself. If anybody wishes harm to my daughter, my son or my sister then I want that met as if it were an attack on myself! I left because I felt isolated in my own castle, split between wanting the best for my family and wanting peace. That should never have to be the case. I felt like you cared more about my image than my own personal wellbeing, which given I thought you a father figure really fucking stung."

Jon gulped. "I did investigate those letters, as you wished me to. I still have numerous lines of enquiry to go down, but so far I can't see any link to House Tyrell with regards to the Sparrows other than the High Sparrow once served in the Starry Sept along with thousands of other Septons."

"They want my family split apart, Jon." Luke sighed, rubbing his temple with his free hand. "Whether through this plot or another, the animosity between Queen and Princess is obvious, and I will not have another Alicent fucking Hightower and Rhaenyra in my court, is that understood?"

"It is, your Grace." Jon bowed again.

"Then it is up to us to ensure that doesn't happen." Luke continued. "So together, you and I, will be united going forwards. You will come to me with everything. You will share all your information when you receive it, and I want to know if there is even a whiff of dissent coming from anybody within my walls."

"Yes, Your Grace." Jon bowed.

"And I want no more talk of marrying Daenerys, of removing Daenerys from her current position." Luke stated. "In fact, I want no words uttered about my sister that aren't directly related to the task that she is currently performing for the Crown. The next person to utter a word about how dangerous she could be, or that she should marry some shit eating Lord with barely a castle to his name, then I want their tongue." Jon looked alarmed, but Luke's face must have shown the rage that he was feeling as the aging man simply nodded once more. "And I want us on the same side. We took the Throne back, you and I. We rose from exiles to the King and the Hand. I love you, Jon, but it seems like everybody in this castle has grown a little bit too comfortable and has forgotten that this isn't a Free City. I am no Magister that must require bartering and bribes to enforce my will. This is no democracy."

Jon bowed his head once again. "Of course it isn't, we all serve at your pleasure."

"And some need reminding of such." Luke stated. "Thank you, Lord Hand. You are dismissed, Ser Barristan will be on his way to the Tower of the Hand to discuss the plans going forwards with regards to the upcoming Winter."

Jon bowed once more. "When shall we convene the Small Council?" He asked before he left the Throne Room.

"Tomorrow." Luke responded. "I must speak with them all privately first so that they understand my position."

The Woods Witch had been in the room with Jon for an hour, and Ygritte had been growing more and more restless with each passing minute. After over sharpening every arrow she had left she moved over to the archery targets, but for the first time ever she couldn't distract herself as she stared at a target. Her mind instead wandered to the damned man that lay dead in a room just beyond her reach. She thought of the time she was his prisoner, too noble to execute her and too shy to do anything but grow angry at her teasing. She remembered the feel of him that first night they lay beside each other and how embarrassed he grew when he realised he had poked her in the night. A sad smile formed and a tear escaped her, which Ygritte quickly wiped away before anybody saw.

She thought then on the year they had together, travelling side by side as man and woman. She thought about that cave, the cave they should have stayed in instead of climbing the Wall and everything that happened after…

She couldn't stop the tears as she remembered the last time they were together alone. The Ice Cells had been horrible, but even in her strongest anger she loved the moments Jon visited her. She would have never admitted it at the time, still feeling furious and betrayed, but the sight of his curly hair made those months bearable. She looked back up at the door and remembered asking him to leave with her, and hearing him refuse had almost broken her heart…

"We will know soon." Tormund walked over to her with his deep, grunting voice.

"Piss off." Ygritte snarled, not wanting to talk to anyone but Jon.

Tormund smirked amusedly. "It wasn't too long ago that you wanted him dead."

Snarling, Ygritte gripped an arrow in her hand and lunged on Tormund, knocking him over and straddling him as she held the arrowhead against his throat. "I told you." She growled. "To piss off."

"Ygritte! Enough!" Mance's voice called over to her, and Ygritte took one look at the King before returning her gaze to Tormund, crying out in frustration and jumping off of him. She felt an arm around her shoulder then as she was led to one side by Mance. "I understand, truly I do." Ygritte also remembered Dalla, the woman Mance had stolen who had died along with their child in the birthing bed. "Grief is a painful thing, but we cannot allow that to separate us." The red-head nodded, not knowing what she could say without breaking down. She felt weak and pitiful, but for the first time she didn't care. "Waiting is the worst thing about it, I know." Mance continued. "But at the end…"

He trailed off, and Ygritte looked up at him to see the King staring at the door. Her blue eyes followed his gaze and she saw the Red Woman leaving the room, a shocked look on her face. Without a care, Ygritte briskly walked over to the stairs and rose up them, pushing past the Red Woman without a word as she entered the room before audibly gasping.

Jon Snow was sat up, a thick black cloak wrapped around his naked body. His hair had been trimmed and the blood cleaned from him, and he was breathing heavily as he tried to calm himself down. "Jon Snow…" She whispered.

"Ygritte." Jon gasped, his voice almost pleading. Dropping her bow she ran over to him, grinding to a halt as she knelt by the table, gripping his hands in her own. "What… that woman said…"

"Hush now, Jon Snow." Ygritte grinned as tears ran down her cheeks. She kissed his hands fiercely one after the other. "You're back."

"I died…" He whispered horrified. "Thorne… Olly… they killed me."

Ygritte rose so her hands could cup Jon's head, and she pulled him in to rest it between her breasts for comfort. "Forget those fuckers, Jon Snow. Just breathe. You're back, the Gods have brought you back to me and I won't let them take you again."

They stayed there for a few moments, and Jon's breathing seemed to settle down as he listened to her heartbeat from beneath her furs. Eventually though he pulled his head away and looked up, his dark eyes almost pleading up into her own. Ygritte accepted the plea and pressed her lips to his own. They were still cold, but she didn't care as they moved against one another, quickly moving on to warring with their tongues.

Ygritte pulled apart after a moment and her hands opened up the cloak he was covered in, running them gently down his chest. The stab wounds there threatened to bring her to tears again but she couldn't stop herself from feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath. "They'll all pay." She whispered as she looked at the wounds, before running her hands down to grip his thighs.

"I don't know why I'm back." Jon whispered emotionally. "I did my duty, I did what I thought was right only to get murdered for it. Why am I back? What more do I have to give?"

She almost said the words she had said to him a hundred times, but the look in his eyes was one of sheer terror. "Everything, Jon Snow." She whispered. "The Gods will have their reasons, but all of us Free Folk here believe in you. You are the man to lead us through the Winter."

"Why should I?" Jon asked. "Why can't I go and live peacefully somewhere, somewhere with no fighting."

"Because that isn't who you are." Ygritte said. "That isn't who I am. We can't abandon the fight, however much we want to. We could have stayed in that cave, Jon Snow, but we left."

"I can't stay here, Ygritte. My own brothers…" He said, pained.

Ygritte smiled for reassurance. "Then don't. You told me your vows once, Jon Snow. You serve until you are dead."

Jon's eyes widened. "My oath is ended."

"We can go wherever we like, we can do whatever we want." Her hands returned to his face, cupping his cheeks. "Together, finally."

"You still want me?" Jon asked her. "After everything."

Ygritte smiled tearfully. "You stole me, Jon Snow. I'm your woman. I was angry at you, aye, I put arrows in you, aye. But I'm still your woman."

Jon initiated the kiss that time, a desperate kiss filled with as many emotions as it possibly could have. He pulled Ygritte up onto the table with him, holding her in place as the passion took over, until he pulled her to lie against his chest and winced. "Ouch…" He hissed, dropping his hold to allow her to sit upright. "Still sore."

"You've come back to me, we'll have all the time to lie with one another." Ygritte smiled, gently leaning down to kiss him again. "And while I'd happily take you here and now, we best go out."

Grunting unhappily, Jon let Ygritte climb off of him. His legs were still wobbly so she had to dress him in some unstabbed armour, and he let her tie his boots up and place the cloak around his shoulders before offering her body to lean on. It was slow walking, but they eventually made it outside and down the steps. She waited patiently as he greeted his fellow crows, he shared a hug with Edd, Grenn and Pyp, names she now knew as his friends. He also shared a hug with the Lannister, a man she also had heard him talk about with anger when they were North of the Wall, but was now apparently a friend. The Kingslayer handed Jon his sword back too, before even Mance and Tormund offered him an embrace. Once everybody had had a chance to either embrace or speak to Jon, he turned to the Lannister man.

"Prepare a gallows." Jon stated sharply. "I want enough rope for all the mutineers."

Luke had left the Tyrell's until last, speaking briefly with Lord Monford Velaryon, Prince Oberyn and Varys before receiving the Grand Maester Gormon Tyrell. Penultimately he spoke with Mace Tyrell, keeping the allegations against him secret for the time being as the King couldn't just dismiss his goodfather as Master of Coin just yet without unwanted questions. The Lord of the Reach went so far as to bend the knee once more, pledging his loyalty to House Targaryen, which Luke thought was a bit of overkill but an appreciated gesture all the same.

Finally, Luke received his Queen. Margaery was escorted into the Throne Room by a pair of Tyrell guards, who Luke quickly dismissed. The married couple stared at one another in silence for more than a few seconds, before the Queen was the one to break the silence. "How was Dragonstone, Your Grace?"

Luke chuckled with a smirk. "Refreshing. I needed a break from the plotting and conniving of my own court to sort my head out."

"And the Princess?" Margaery asked.

Luke's smirk fell at the knowing insinuation, though he twisted it to see how she would react. "Visenya enjoys the island air. She will learn a lot from those on Dragonstone about her ancestry and her dragon, and with luck Bloodwing will grow rapidly in the Dragonmont."

Margaery smiled politely. "That is glad news. As is your return. Your son has missed you."

Luke nodded, expecting that too. "And I shall spend plenty of time with Aegon in the days to come to make up for my absence. The boy is almost two years old and speaking, he shall begin learning Valyrian from me privately."

Once again Luke's Queen smiled politely. "You seem different, husband. A newfound purpose rests in your eyes."

"I see the road ahead clearly, My Queen. Perhaps for the first time since I sat on this chair." Luke stated, rising from the throne. He walked the steps down, passing between Ser Symon and Ser Caspor. "Come, follow me. I wish to show you something." He led her and the Kingsguard out of the Throne Room and into the main courtyard, where Valaxes had decided to curl up and snooze, the carcasses of two bulls beside his snout. They stood there together side by side in silence broken only by the snoring of Valaxes, before Luke spoke once more. "It's been 250 years since King Jaehaerys brought his former Hand, Lord Rogar, to this very spot to warn him about the dangers of overreaching. Back then the Lord of Storm's End thought to overthrow the King with Jaehaerys' niece, and it was your own ancestor the Lord of Oldtown who foiled that plot. Rogar was brought here to witness the Bronze Fury himself feasting, a warning to those that would plot against the Dragons."

"My King, we are not…"

"I haven't finished." Luke snapped, his brow furrowing in annoyance. "I may have grown up in Essos, but I was born here in the Red Keep. I know the spies that fill its walls, and it's stupid of anybody to believe that Varys is the only way of receiving information. I know you plotted to remove Daenerys so that House Tyrell is the sole influence on the King, but there is one thing that you seem to have forgotten."

"What is that?" Margaery asked.

"That you do not serve House Tyrell anymore." Luke stated bluntly. "The purpose of the Faith's wedding ceremony is that I cloak you with my own colours, that as a woman you depart your family of birth to be taken in by mine, to start a new family under the banners of House Targaryen. You will never be named Targaryen, but you are one of us now, your child is a Targaryen, any future children we have will be named Targaryen. To actively work against House Targaryen is to betray your own family in the eyes of the Gods." He took a breath, still looking at Valaxes rather than his wife. "Your plotting will stop from today. Your Grandmother will return to Highgarden to aid your brother in ruling, your Father will remain here on the Small Council with half the guard he currently has in my city. You yourself shall no longer be guarded by Ser Taron of the Kingsguard, but you will have a squad of Red Cloaks sworn to your protection. Ser Symon will now be assigned to the Prince's protection. If I hear any more of Tyrell conspiracy, then House Tyrell will become more intimate with Valaxes, am I understood?"

With that he did turn to face Margaery, who was stood there facing Valaxes. She said nothing, and Luke's growing frustration with the silence must have signalled to Valaxes as the dragon opened its eyes and began to stretch out its neck. Margaery's brown eyes widened as the Queen and Dragon stared at one another, before Margaery nodded her head. "I understand."

The King didn't audibly react, but he was pleased. "Then let us start anew, My Queen. We are a formidable team you and I when we work together, for the sake of the realm our son will one day inherit, let us return to that partnership." He held his arm out for the Queen to take, and she was relatively eager to do so. Luke then turned back to Valaxes to utter out a final command of the day. "Fly, Valaxes. Back to the Dragonpit."

Valaxes stood tall and proud, stretching his wings for a moment before launching into the air, sending a gust of wind that threatened to knock Margaery over. Luke however stood firm, holding his Queen upright as he watched the dragon soar over the city towards the Hill of Rhaenys before he led the Queen back inside the Red Keep, ready to begin a new era of his rule.

Ygritte refused to let him out of her sight as the Gallows were being prepared, but that was something that Jon was happy about. Her presence tethered him to the future, and though while he hadn't actually said much to anybody since he had left that room with her, he knew his mind. The Red Woman had also come to check up on him to make sure that he was still functioning properly, and although he felt numb, one of the things that Jon was clinging on to was that he still felt human. Even his blood was working properly, yet despite the caution with his wounds it had stopped seeping out of him, instead pushing round his body to other areas, which Ygritte had laughed at him for.

Their silence was interrupted by a knock at the door, and Edd popped through it. "It's time." The Valeman stated.

Without a word Jon rose up to his feet himself, his balance also returning to him, as he led Ygritte out of the room picking up Longclaw on his way.

Outside the entire castle had gathered. Nine men had been prepared already, the surviving traitors that had thrust knives into him. He had wished that Thorne had been kept alive too to get the pleasure of killing the man that had made his service a living hell himself, but the fact that Ygritte had ended Thorne's life was a little bit of a comfort.

He got to the steps leading up to the platform and halted for a second. He felt Ygritte's hand snake into his own, but without looking he gently pulled away. "Stay here, I need to do this alone." He said softly. If Ygritte was offended in any way by that she didn't speak up, instead placing a hand on his arm and squeezing the once, before Jon slowly rose up the steps. Jaime Lannister was already up there by the strained rope that kept the bench keeping the prisoners alive in place. Jon stopped by the first man however, and said. "If you have any last words, now is the time."

He didn't care what anybody said though, and as he walked passed each man, their pleas, threats and calm acceptance washed over him. Eight of them had something to say, but the hardest to comprehend was Olly at the very end. When Jon stopped in place it took a moment to prepare himself to look at the boy that he had taken on as his own steward, that he had tried to prepare in the way that Jeor Mormont had done with him. When he did eventually force his eyeline to Olly's face, all he saw back was defiance. Jon realised in that moment that he pitied the boy no older than Bran was, his parents had been killed by Ygritte and Tormund, he had learned a while back, and while Jon could accept back then that the two parts of his life could never truly intertwine, Olly's anger at him had led him to be the one to end Jon's life, and that was something that the Bastard of Winterfell could neither wrap his head around, nor forgive.

Accepting Olly's silence, Jon moved over to the rope. His chest still ached with movement so he held out Longclaw's scabbard to Jaime, who pulled it away from the Valyrian Steel blade. As he stood with his back to the traitors his memory turned to that fateful night when knife after knife plunged into him, and Jon's face contorted into one of anger, before finally lashing out and severing the rope.

The barrels holding up the bench were pulled away, and the men all dropped. It wasn't such a long drop that their necks snapped ending them quickly however, and Jon turned to see the straining faces of all nine of them gasping for air that would never come again and flailing around with their legs for a support.

Eventually, they were all dead, though it brought no relief to Jon. He stared up at the bodies for a time, his eyes reverting to Olly constantly. Sighing, he began to unclasp his cloak that signified his office.

"What are you doing?" Jaime asked him.

Jon said nothing, sheathing Longclaw in the scabbard held by the Lannister before swapping it for the Lord Commander's cloak. "It shall not end until my death." He said finally, quoting part of his oath. "You have Castle Black, Ser Jaime. My watch has ended." The Lannister remained in bewilderment as Jon attached Longclaw back to his belt, before slowly making his way down the steps back to Ygritte, who was looking at him with a sad smile. "Do you remember when I told you I'd take you to Winterfell?" He asked her. Ygritte nodded, to which Jon Snow smiled for perhaps the first time since he had come back from the dead. "Let's go then."

He held out his hand to her, and Ygritte happily took it, leading him back towards his former quarters as they ignored the shocked and surprised stares of everyone else. "Is Winterfell as big as this one?" She asked.

Jon chuckled, ignoring the pain of the movement. "When it comes to castles, you're the one that knows nothing." He joked. "Winterfell is… I don't want to explain it, you'll have to see it with your own eyes."

By the look on her face, Jon could see that she could hardly wait.

This chapter is titled as such for both the literal reason and the figurative. Obviously it relates to Jon because of his literal resurrection, but it also applies to Luke's reborn sense of purpose. He's here to sort the mess out in the Red Keep in order to give himself a better chance at sorting out the coming White Walker problem.

In the books Mance's son survived and was swapped with Gilly's son. This is a show fic, but I always liked Val and Dalla, so there's a bit of a nod to the latter here.

Jon's resurrection has been done hundreds of times before so I wanted to focus more on Ygritte here. Its not often that she survives until this point so that avenue was an interesting one to go down, and now she's off with him to Winterfell!

Back in King's Landing however and Luke has made his points. The two important ones for me were Jon and Margaery, but he will talk to the entire council as a group in the next chapter.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!

Next Time: Jon and Ygritte arrive at Winterfell, while Bran receives an important lesson.

Reviews:

C.E.W: Luke as a King is popular with his subjects in King's Landing, but he's unpopular at the moment with the Tyrells for good reason. I won't be adding that flashback in, but it's a nice idea that I never even thought of. I hope you like the way he did return despite it being different to your idea.

Hail King Cerion: Thank you for being the 600th review! It would be badass but it would also be pretty overpowered, I like what I have planned for the Long Night though, it's going to be brutal. I liked the idea for Melisandre too, but I just couldn't work it in given that she still plays a part in the future.

RHatch89: Thank you!

Kirosyamcha: That's what I try and do, I try to have my character take his place in the world seamlessly. He's not going to change every single story plot with his presence though so some things need to still happen, just in a different way than the show.

MandoWalker: Yep, he was such a pushover here! His passiveness over the last few chapters was intended, and he needed to have the realisation of the last couple in order to move forwards with what is to come.