Am I my Brother's Keeper, Yes I Am

by Alperez16

A different choice after the Battle of the Bastards brings another Stark back from the dead. Together with his brother how does Rickon Stark's living change the Game and what do another King in the North and his bastard brother mean in regards to the return of House Targaryen. An idea suggested by my good friend and co-writer Leilani972 that I just couldn't resist jumping on board

10. Ghosts of the Past, Echoes of the Future

Somewhere in Westeros 303 AC.

Rickon Stark.

He felt the door close on him as soon as the hawk heard the roar from the green dragon. He saw it burn and disappear in front of him and he felt terribly sorry as he realized what it meant for the bird. He had been so close, so close to reaching his brother that he hadn't seen the other dragon coming towards them until it was too late. He wished he could have saved the hawk, but in the end, it was the hawk who had saved him by chasing him away from his body.

He was floating away, seeing doors appear near him and feeling that he should go back home. He needed to go back to Winterfell and to find someone who knew the place. He was surprised to see a few doors remain and traveled to one of the brightest ones. It felt as if a kinship emanated from this door, yet there was a wariness he never experienced before coming from it when he asked for permission to access the beast's mind.

He smiled as he found himself surrounded by wolves. Maybe this was the reason their minds had felt so appealing to them.

"You're not my sister." a harsh feminine voice said. "Yet I feel I know you."

You were waiting for your sister?

"We were supposed to be bonded, but the men she was with had decided otherwise. She left me and I'm waiting for the day she'll come back and we can be together as we were meant to be."

Flashes of hurt and images of her sister throwing rocks at her invaded Rickon's mind and he gasped, realizing where he was and with whom.

Nymeria. You're Nymeria.

"That is how my sister named me. How do you..."

Because I'm her brother. Rickon.

"My poor brother's companion... I felt him die, as well as the rest of my litter. First, the Soft Sister, then the Swift Brother, and the Clever Brother. Finally, our Wild Brother's light faded too..." she said and he could feel their sadness echo similarly.

Ghost is still alive. You still have a brother.

"I know. I can feel him. As I could feel my sister for some time. I saw her, you know? But it wasn't her. It was her face, but her heart was cold and closed. She wanted me to come with her, but her heart wasn't there."

She is back now. I swear she is. Her heart is in the right place and she needs you right now.

"She does?"

Rickon shared with her all he knew and felt coming from Arya, as well as what was coming for them. He could feel Nymeria's worry as well as her annoyance, and when he finished his story, he felt a tug in his mind.

"You reckless little brat! Have you realized what your absence did to your new pack?"

New pack?

"Those who chose you as their leader. They are your pack now, you've created it just as I did mine. You feel an obligation, a kinship to them, and you left them to worry about you while running after another member?"

Jon is more than that! He's my brother! Well, I thought he was... No, he is…

"Your bond is strong, little brother. Stronger than the one you have with Arya. A wolf always comes back to his pack."

But the lone wolf dies…

"My sister left me so that I would not die. I mourned her and still waited for her to come back to me. I feared becoming a lone wolf and then they found me and welcomed me into their pack. The hole is still there, but you're a wolf, like me, and your pack has chosen you. You'll get through everything with their support."

I feared he was in danger because of the Dragon Queen. I think... I think she's bonded to him too.

"Then your pack is about to expand, which is a good thing when you think about the dead things that are coming."

I don't think it is…

"You fear him leaving you?" she asked and Rickon nodded. "You'll never be alone, little brother. If anything, your pack will grow stronger with every new mate you allow your family to introduce."

Would you... Will you come back with me with your pack? To see our sister and protect mine? he asked out of the blue.

Nymeria seemed to hesitate. The idea of Arya being in danger upset her greatly, but she also had a new family to protect now, and she didn't want to bring the young ones into danger.

We will protect the young ones, and they will help us protect those who cannot fight. I swear to you.

"Then I agree," she said, feeling his sincerity and determination.

They ran at an incredible pace throughout the Riverlands and crossed the Neck without even taking a break. Rickon almost thought about going for Unicorn, but Nymeria told him to forget about it, as she wouldn't be able to ensure the safety of a horse in the pack.

It was the same and yet different to be in Nymeria's head compared to being in Ghost's. Contrary to her brother who was almost close to being a lone wolf, her mind was linked and attuned to each and every member of her pack. She could sense when one of them needed to rest or to hunt and would react accordingly. She was a leader in all but name, being the largest, the strongest, and unbothered by the males who wanted her as their mate. It reminded Rickon of Arya since they both were in control of who they were letting into their close circle and could definitely turn away any unwilling suitor. A poor Free Folk man had already learned it the hard way, despite Rickon and Tormund's warnings that there would be no way for him to steal Arya.

Suddenly, he felt a tug in his mind. It was a warm, familiar one, and he gasped as he heard the ghost of a voice calling his name.

I…

"I know. I felt it too. Go to them."

Will you find the way without me?

"I've always known the way, little brother," she said comfortingly. "Tell our sister I'll be here soon."

King's Landing 303 AC.

Dany.

Saying goodbye had been hard, but knowing that Jon felt as she did and that he wished to be with her as much as she did him, had made it a little easier. Even though she was frustrated with him over the fact they'd not lain together, she did think him right in his reasoning for why not. Dany was as certain as he was that were they to do so, then parting would have been much more difficult and much more painful. That it made her even keener to do what she needed to do in the South and to be free to travel to the North, was perhaps beneficial too. Given what was coming for them, she already needed to hurry. Knowing what awaited her there for her was simply an extra incentive, she thought wickedly.

She'd expected Melisandre to be nervous about flying on the dragon or that she may seek to sail to King's Landing when she asked her to join her. She was anything but. If anything, it was Missandei who was most nervous about flying on Drogon's back and were it not for the need Dany had for her closest friend and truest adviser, something she now shared with Jon Snow perhaps, to be by her side, then Dany would have allowed her to take a ship instead. With all that she needed to do and the urgency she needed to do it, that wasn't truly an option though. So Missandei, reluctant though she was, joined Melisadnre and Jorah and they were soon flying away from the island.

It was as they were in the air that the thoughts of Jon doing the same really came to her. Dany wondered where he and Rhaegal were now and what it truly meant that she'd found a man who, like her, could soar through the skies. There had to be Valyrian blood in Jon's line and the Starks, to the best of her knowledge, bore none. Whoever his mother was she had to be important, didn't she? A long-lost relative mayhap? A bastard aunt or half-sister even, the latter possible given what sort of a man her father truly was.

Seeing King's Landing come into view, she decided to forgo the look around the city she wished for, at least until she was alone on Drogon's back. She'd not really seen much of it when they took the city of even when she and Jon had left it to go to Dragonstone and the little glimpses she got of it from the air made her wish to see more of it from this vantage point. They flew over the Red Keep and then headed for the Dragonpit. Drogon and Viserion landed a few feet from each other and Dany giggled at how quickly Missandei climbed down off the black dragon's back. She was in the process of thanking her sons when Grey Worm and her guards arrived, Dany then telling Drogon and Viserion to go feed and rest as Jorah and Grey Worm got reacquainted.

"My queen." Grey Worm said when she moved to him as the dragons took to the sky.

"Torgho Nudho, all is well?"

"All is well, my queen."

Mounting her silver was a far different pleasure than mounting Drogon and as they rode from the Dragonpit she began to laugh. Missandei looked to her to see what it was she found so amusing and Dany took a few moments before she could speak the words, such was her good humor.

"After his first ride on Rhaegal, Jon said that horses had been ruined for him." Dany said, smiling still.

"I find myself much-preferring horses, Your Grace." Missandei said and Dany reached out her hand and touched Missandei's.

"Then I'll ensure it's to be horses from now on, Missy." she said softly to a warm smile from her friend.

"We'll see my prince soon?" Melisandre asked and Dany turned to look at her, the expression on her face a determined one as she spoke her answer.

"Very soon."

The Red Keep had undergone some big changes since she'd last been here. Above it, the Three-Headed Dragon flew high and as she walked through it she could see signs of her family's heritage everywhere. Banners bearing her family's sigil covered the walls and as she walked down a long hall she was pleased to see paintings on the wall that represented some of her ancestors. Were it not that she had much to do, then she'd have spent much more time just looking at them. Instead, she took note of some of the faces and tried to put names on them. More than happy to see that some of the women of her family were represented too.

Guards stood at the ready at the Queen's Chambers and when she entered the room it was to see that here too there had been big changes made. Be it Olenna, Tyrion, or someone else, they'd removed the bed and all the furniture and replaced them with newer ones that were less stained by bad memories. Her sigil was well represented and she moved to a tapestry on the wall that showed a view of the Conquest and the Conqueror himself, Dany tracing her hand over the faces of Aegon and his sister-wives before moving to the desk.

"Would you like a bath before you begin, your grace?" Missandei asked and Dany shook her head.

"No, we have much to do and I'll take my bath before retiring later. Torgho Nudho, see that the Small Council is convened and inform me once it has."

"My queen." Grey Worm said as he bowed his head slightly and then moved from the room.

"Lady Melisandre, perhaps you can stand in Jon's stead and offer what advice you believe your prince would, were he here?"

"I am yours to command, your grace."

"Good, we have much work to do and much preparation to make before we are ready to head North." she said, somehow not saying, before we see Jon again which was what she was truly thinking.

Some food and wine were brought to her at Missandei's order and though she didn't drink, she did eat while she, Melisandre, and Missandei discussed her thoughts on what to do about her allies and what to say about Jon. Dany was surprised when Melisandre said not to speak about Jon and Rhaegal to her councilors for now. When she brought up that knowing such would help narrow down who Jon's mother was, the Red Priestess just shook her head and looked at her cryptically.

"It will send people in the wrong direction, your grace. People already know of the fondness the Green Dragon has for my prince, let that be enough for now. Were they to find out that like you, he is a Dragonrider, it would only bring up questions that need not be answered as of yet."

"Very well. For now, we speak nothing of Jon and Rhaegal, other than what people already know."

Later as they walked to the Small Council chambers she found herself questioning why it truly was that Melisandre didn't wish her to name Jon as Rhaegal's rider and found she couldn't come up with a better reason than the woman had given her. Yet something inside of her told her that while yes that was part of it, there was something else, something she was missing. Another deeper reason why she had wished her to keep it to herself. It made her reconsider some things and was it not that Jon placed such trust in the lady, then she may have decided to go against her advice. In the end, she kept to it and hoped to figure out the true reason herself.

"Lord Snow has not returned with you, your grace?" Tyrion asked when he saw them enter the Small Council's Chambers.

"Lord Snow has returned to the North to prepare for the war to come, Lord Tyrion. My armies and I will soon be joining him."

"He is well, your grace?" Olenna asked concernedly

"He is well, Lady Olenna." she said and noticed the relief on the woman's face, something she was surprised to see was shared by Varys as well.

"There is much we need to prepare for. How fares the preparations for the coronation and the city itself?" she asked.

The next hour was spent speaking of the Lords who were coming to swear their fealty. They spoke about different regions and how they had already or may react to the fact that she was to be named as queen by the new High Septon in less than a moon's time. Olenna spoke about the shipments of food and supplies that she'd had sent from the Reach and how she'd organized for some to be readied to be sent North for their armies too. Dany was more than pleased that the woman had already seen to such an important task and hadn't needed to be asked to do so.

Tyrion then spoke about the city and how it had been starved almost under his sister's rule. How the people were now more hopeful under her own. Some supplies had already arrived and been distributed and the Red Keep itself was more than well-stocked, Dany telling Missandei to see that some were given to the children and women who usually were the ones to suffer most when food stocks became scarce. Grey Worm said the city was secure and that there was no sign of any who may still be on Cersei's side. While Varys told her that most of the realm would be so pleased that Cersei was gone, they'd soon flock to pledge to the new queen.

"The North, Your Grace." Tyrion said and she knew then the mood of the meeting would change.

"What of it?"

"With Lord Snow gone back there, we have no leverage to use against them, your grace. No way of making them kneel other than force."

"You wish me to attack the North?" she said angrily while shaking her head.

"I wish the North to kneel, your grace, as I do the rest of the realm."

"There are other ways to see they do so, Lord Hand." Olenna said and Dany bid her continue "Alliances are built on marriage, your grace. More so than they are at war or by beating an enemy. Give the North a marriage and you'll earn their fealty, as truly as you would, were you to beat them in a war, more so given the Northmen's stubbornness."

"And who do you suggest her grace marries, Lady Olenna?" Melisandre asked.

"There is but only one match she can make, my lady. Jon Snow." Olenna said and Dany saw the look on Tyrion's face long before she heard his angered response.

Winterfell 303 AC.

Lyanna Mormont.

They managed to get to the First Keep without being seen. All of the youngest ones were there at Lyanna's behest: Ned Umber and Alys Karstark being the most adamant of the bunch. Larence Snow was also there as were Eddara Tallhart and Talia Forrester, representing her brother Rodrick who was still recovering from some ordeal with the Whitehills. Gilliane Snow, one of Lord Glover's granddaughters who trained with them, was also present, going against her grandfather's wishes to support someone she grew to care about.

"How is King Rickon?" she asked Lyanna first. "Any change in his state?"

"He gave us quite a scare this morn, but the Maester said he is the same." Lyanna answered.

"I'm praying every single day that he recovers," Talia added. "The North is not the same without him."

"Aye, and that is why I wanted to speak to you all."

"Is it about Lady Sansa?" Alys asked, visibly upset, and she sighed loudly when Lyanna nodded. "What happened in the Great Hall was beyond disgraceful."

"To be treated that way by the Lords of the Vale, and to agree to their demands when they belittled us so… Lady Sansa was the one who wanted to wed Ramsay Bolton. We all knew what this monster was capable of. Which showed once again how out of touch she was from the North." Lyanna said, sending an apologetic grimace to Talia and Larence, whose family had both suffered under Ramsay's cruelty. "But I fear that the worst is yet to come."

"What do you mean?"

"Yohn Royce demanded that the Free Folk be sent away from Winterfell, else he would withdraw his help. He would have them sent to the Wall with those who man it."

"King Rickon welcomed them in Winterfell because they bled for the Starks. All of them. What right does this son of a southern whore think he has to chase them away?" Larence growled.

"Lord Manderly pointed that out, that a decree has been made by the King, still they feel in a position of power and Lady Sansa is to announce their departure soon." Lyanna answered.

"Is she out of her mind? If we ask them to leave, they will not fight with us when the time comes." Alys exclaimed.

"She believes they will as they are loyal to Jon Snow."

"But if his family betrays them…" Ned started.

"I know. I'm telling you that she is out of touch with reality. We kept telling her that no one holds a grudge as much as the Free Folk do, that they will not help if they feel disrespected, but she would not listen." Lyanna said, frustrated by this turn of events.

She was not the only one angry at Sansa, as Lord Manderly, Ser Davos, and most of all Arya voiced their discontent. The younger Stark was so incensed that she threatened Sansa to bring her down if she was willing to go through with this.

"We need to tell the other Lords about it. We need to stop her from undermining King Rickon's effort and someone has to send a message to Jon Snow about what is going on here. That is why I asked you to come today. I'm pretty sure that I am being watched, as are Lady Arya, Lord Manderly, and Ser Davos. We have to reunite the Lords of the North, on the morrow before dawn and talk about everything going on. About Lady Sansa taking over, the Vale being a thorn on our side, and the Dragon Queen coming back soon." she said, giving each one of them a missive to hand to the other Lords.

She could see the unease of each at Daenerys Targaryen's mention. The fact that she had come to see for herself about the threat of the Army of the Dead and had been willing to help had been well received amongst the Lords. They understood the need for her to secure her position in the South and wished she would succeed in ending Cersei Lannister, but they didn't know her true character and what Arya had told them about her time in Essos made them wary. Daenerys by all accounts hadn't hesitated to use her dragons to punish those who opposed her and betrayed their word. While Lyanna didn't think much of that, the mention of Aerys Targaryen, the girl's father, ran through the ranks of the Lords who knew him and had fought in the Rebellion.

Was the girl like her father or would she be a better ruler than those the South had provided so far? Would she force them to kneel when the war would be over? After all, Lyanna knew she had the means to do it. The Northern army was in shambles, underfed and it struggled to be united under Sansa Stark. Meanwhile, the Dragon Queen had gotten Dorne and the Reach to join her. She had an army of Unsullied and of Dothraki, who according to what Rickon had told her before he fell ill, was almost unstoppable when they were atop a horse. Lyanna was not well versed in military tactics, but she knew when they were outnumbered and out-skilled, and they definitely were against the Targaryen's supporters. Even without the dragons.

All of them knew that should they be victorious against the dead, they would then have to take an important decision in regards to their independence.

Part of her wanted to fight for it. She had lost so much because of the throne in the South, because of southern politics and she wanted to honor her family's memory. Her mother had knelt and died so there could be a King in the North whose name was Stark, but the North was tired of wars and needed to rebuild. They needed to withstand the current winter and to survive the Army of the Dead before doing so, and she knew they would lose a lot of their people during the fight. Their coffers were empty, as they never were the richest of the seven kingdoms, so they couldn't rely on coin and Davos confirmed it by telling them of Stannis' dealings with the Iron Bank before his death.

"Where will we meet?" Talia asked.

"The Great Hall."

"Isn't it too obvious?" Ned questioned. "If one of the Knights of the Vale sees us, they will hurry to squeal their little tale about us to Littlefinger."

"The other solution is the Godswood, and I will not go there," Lyanna said firmly.

"Neither will I. After what happened to the king, I feel like that place has been abandoned by the Gods."

"Moreover, he will be there. He is always there." Ned added, and she tensed as she saw him shiver.

"Do not worry. He is not invited to our meeting."

"But he knows everything!" Ned whined.

"Let us hope then that he doesn't see this one coming," Alys sighed. "On the morrow, then?"

Lyanna nodded and waited for everyone to scatter before leaving the First Keep. Her guards assured her that no one was around and she walked back to the Great Keep to check on her friend. When she passed by the Godswood's entrance, flashes of the fateful day when Rickon lost consciousness came to her mind. She was starting to lose hope, to think that he would never recover. He looked so frail, so weak in his bed, all traces of his good nature and lively self were gone from his body, and she only held onto the fact that he was still breathing. He didn't give up on them, so she would keep faith in him. She just wished the Red Woman was there to do more of her magic.

"Good day to you, Lady Mormont!"

"It was good until I heard your voice, Baelish," she spat, her face matching her tone.

"I'm sorry, my Lady. I should know better than to inconvenience you before you break your fast." he said, his voice taking a mocking tone that she disliked greatly.

"You think you won, did you? You think your schemes have worked this time?"

"Why, you wound me, Lady Lyanna. I never once worked against your interest and those of the North."

"Your very presence is against the interests of the North and those of my King!" she spat back at him.

"You let your dislike for Lady Sansa and myself cloud your judgment, my Lady. We are not your enemies."

"My dislike for you is exactly what keeps my eyes open to your manipulations. Now get out of my way or I will make you sorry that you crossed my path this day."

"Always so violent in your attitude and your words. So fierce in protecting your king. I admire that, truly. In fact, I wish that some people in the Vale had a backbone like you. My task would be so much easier with someone like you around my dear Lord Robert, instead of those who wish to influence him."

"Like you're doing here by infiltrating the council and pushing Lady Sansa to rule?"

"Such cutting words and such passion. Yes, I have truly chosen well for my goodson." Littlefinger said with a smirk.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I have asked Lady Sansa to bring forward my suggestion of a union between you and the Lord Protector of the Vale. I wanted to talk to you before, yet you keep avoiding me."

Blood drained from Lyanna's face as she finally understood the meaning of Littlefinger's words.

Marriage. They wanted her to marry a bloody Southerner. To force her out of the North, out of her home, and to play some game of politics at her expense. She, who was the head of her house and had ruled her lands since the War of the Five Kings.

Anger soon replaced shock in her mind and she unsheathed her sword, determined to end this man whose smirk didn't leave his face for a moment. If it weren't for her guards, the traitors, she would have managed to pierce his heart.

"My Lady, you cannot," Tophen, one of them, said.

"By the Old Gods, let me go, or I swear…"

"We are under guest rights, my Lady, and so is he. As much as I may hate it." Tophen insisted.

"He is right, I am a welcome guest of House Stark," Littlefinger said haughtily. "And I will not disclose what happened here between you and me, for I am your ally, Lady Mormont."

"An ally, you want to sell me off to some lord like I belong to you and you dare call yourself my ally? You don't own me! I am not one of your whores you can use at your convenience."

"This is a marriage proposal, Lady Lyanna. Not a death sentence!"

"Yet you go behind my back and ask Lady Sansa about it? Do you think she will convince me, me, to accept this?"

"She is the King's Regent, my Lady. I only intended to bring the subject to you through her because you seem to dislike me, and in this, you've just proved me right."

"Mark my words, Baelish. I'd rather die than be a pawn in your schemes. You will not make me leave my home! You'll be dead long before I leave, guest rights be damned!"

"You're so much like your namesake…" Baelish sighed dramatically before narrowing his eyes at her. "She claimed for all who deigned to hear that she didn't want to wed Robert Baratheon. Let us hope you will have a better fate than hers in the end. For your sake."

She struggled with her guards while the Mockingbird walked away, seemingly unfazed by her blooming rage as if the matter was settled. Maybe in the South, they were used to obedient ladies who would never object to the decision made for them, but she was Lyanna Mormont. She was the Bear of Bear Island, and she would show them how to deal with a true Lady of the North. Starting with Sansa Stark.

King's Landing 303 AC.

Tyrion.

It hadn't taken some time to put the city to rights, the people were as much relieved that his sister and Euron Greyjoy were no longer in charge as they were happy about Daenerys being their new queen. Though over the first few days after the fall of the city, it had begun to swing far more to the latter. Especially once food stocks arrived and were handed out to those who'd not seen such bounty in many a moon.

He'd concentrated on his work as best he could, while at the same time doing his best to not let his anger come to the fore. All his plans, all his clever schemes had been for naught since the queen had never intended to live up to his word. There was never truly a parley or for his sister to be given the chance to simply walk away. The words that had been spoken in the Dragonpit had been clear enough evidence of that and even were they not, the actions that followed certainly were. Tyrion had been kept out of the planning of the attack, kept in the dark while Olenna Tyrell, the Queen, and Jon Fucking Snow had planned for the taking of King's Landing. It had been the bastard himself who had confirmed it when he'd spoken to him. The queen was busy speaking to her dragons while they did their best to ready the Red Keep for her and the new regime.

"You planned to attack, this was not what I was led to believe was to happen." he said angrily.

"And what were you led to believe, That we'd march North with a knife being held at our backs? You claim to be your father's son, Tyrion, but your father would never have considered such a thing." Jon Snow retorted.

"Don't speak of my father, Ba…"

"You wish to defend his name and reputation and yet he'd be here to do both were it not for the bolt you fired into his belly. I care not for your father, Tyrion, he was a cunt as was your sister. The only thing you can trust a cunt to be is a cunt and so even were Cersei to agree to such a foolish plan, she'd have tried to fuck us afterward. We have the numbers now, the Old Gods only know what we'll have once the fight with the Night King is done. Yet you'd have left her here, left her army untouched, and allowed us to be weakened while she grew strong? Or was that really your plan?" Jon Snow said, and had he been a bigger man then Tyrion would have struck him where he stood.

"My plan was to see Daenerys crowned queen with the least amount of bloodshed possible." he sneered.

"Which has now been accomplished. We've taken this city with less than a thousand men dead. The dragon's flames haven't needed to be used and though she's escaped with Euron Greyjoy, your sister and he are done for. That is how you win a war, Tyrion, not by words, but by fucking beating your enemies, and Cersei and Euron are our enemies."

"The Queen…"

"Can now truly name herself such. She behaved honorably and beat a tyrant, a tale worthy of song." Jon Snow said almost happily.

"And what songs will be sung of you, Snow?" he asked bitterly.

"People don't sing songs of cripples, bastards, and broken things, Tyrion, only a fool wouldn't know that."

He had still been furious when he'd gone to see Jaime, his brother was almost broken by the fact that Cersei had abandoned him and had run off with Euron Greyjoy of all people. When he'd spoken to him about this not being his plan and that Jon Snow had played him, Jaime laughed and told him that he should be grateful to him. That Cersei would have seen him dead before too long and no matter what words she'd spoken during the parley, she'd have never lived up to them.

It didn't make his anger at Jon Snow lessen any and even after he and the queen had flown to Dragonstone together, it had been at the forefront of his mind as he'd helped put the city to rights. Briefly, during the fighting in the Dragonpit, he'd believed that the bastard would fall, The giant, who he'd since found out was The Mountain, was unaffected by the cuts delivered to him by Jon Snow's blade and so Tyrion had thought something good at least would come from the breaking of parley. Only for the Green Dragon to come to his rescue and even that annoyed him greatly. Not simply because it meant that Jon Snow got to live and breathe another day, but even in this it seemed that he was getting more than he. That he had found yet another dragon's favor where Tyrion had not.

Had he not freed the dragons from the dungeons in Meereen?

Was it not him who'd removed the chains from it and its brother's neck?

Did he not deserve a dragon more than a Northern Bastard?

When news came of the attack on Dragonstone, while others worried, he had rejoiced. Had he not been doing so, so completely, then he may have noticed that even Varys seemed as worried as Lady Olenna and others did. Even here he was to find no respite and when news came that Jon Snow had woken, he'd spent the night getting incredibly drunk. All of his anger, all of his jealousy though didn't prepare him for what he'd just heard, and as he looked around the room, he prayed to the gods he was dreaming.

"There is only one match she can make, my lady. Jon Snow." Olenna Tyrell said and Tyrion could hold his words no longer.

"A Bastard, you would have our queen wed a Bastard?" he asked furiously "The Lords of Westeros would never accept a bastard as a consort."

"Tyrion!" Dany said angrily.

"You cannot marry a bastard, Your Grace." he said, shaking his head.

"And why not, Lord Hand?" Olenna goaded.

"The South would never accept a Bastard, Lady Olenna, certainly not a Northern one."

"Yet the South would respect a Kinslayer as a Hand?" Olenna said looking at him and Tyrion glared at her in response.

"Would not a marriage to Lord Snow be fortuitous to our queen?" Missandei asked and then quickly added. "In regards to bringing the North in line."

"Dragons will bring the North in line. Fire and Blood will bring the North in line. If they refuse to accept our rule, then we burn them all." Tyrion said, his blood was still rising as he spoke.

"ENOUGH!."

All eyes turned to the queen and he found himself withering under her angry gaze. He'd never seen such fury in her eyes as he did right then and he felt fearful as the room quietened.

"While I wish to speak more on the North and on Lady Olenna's suggestion. Other points have been raised and must be addressed before I could even consider such a thing."

"You can't, your grace. You can't marry a bastard, I can't…I'd not support such a thing."

"You don't decide what I can and cannot do, Tyrion, and since you can't support such a thing, Then very well, I accept your resignation as Hand." Daenerys said and he looked at her incredulously, he'd not resigned, had he?

"Your Grace…."

"Lady Olenna was right, Tyrion. I cannot have a Kinslayer as my Hand. That I know for certain won't be accepted."

"And a Bastard, an Oathbreaker, a deserter from the Watch would." he almost shouted.

"Careful, Tyrion. I've allowed you to speak ill of one of my closest allies for long enough, name Lord Snow as such once more in my presence and you'll have reached the limits of my patience."

"Your grace I…"

"Can no longer serve as my Hand. Were it not for how people may see you being enough of a detriment to it, then your advice lately has only shown that to be clear. Your sister had to be removed, Tyrion, you were the only one who could not see it was so and whether that influenced your decisions or not, matters little. I can no longer trust you have my best interests at heart and so I can no longer trust you to serve as my Hand. You shall be named as Lord of Casterly Rock as is your right, but in time I'll appoint a new Warden of the West. For I fear you'd not garner the support of the Westerlands either." Dany said and though she seemed somewhat saddened by it, he felt she enjoyed it a little too, seeing him shamed so.

"Your Grace." he said with a nod of his head as he removed his pin and walked from the room, he turned back and looked to see the queen speaking to Olenna and he was sure he'd seen her take his pin and place it on her chest.

The anger soon led to wishes for retribution, revenge, and other darker thoughts. His drunken dreams that night went to some very dark places as he watched Jon Snow be torn limb from limb and Olenna Tyrell and the others who'd been in the room that day all face their own ends. Yet it was the walk into the room and seeing her tied to the bed, seeing the fear in her eyes as he took out his knife and cut her clothing from her body that he enjoyed the most. Or would have been, were it not for what came next. Her screams as he forced himself on the silver-haired queen were like music to his ears and when he woke the next morning he'd found that he'd spent in his bed.

He found him in the brothel the very next day, or to be more precise it was Bronn who found him. Tyrion threw him the pouch full of coins that would pay for his entertainment that night and bid him take a seat before sending for the drinks.

"I heard you lost your pin." Bronn said and the jape didn't go down as well as he may have wished for.

"I've lost far too much, want to help me get it back?"

"Why should I? What's in it for me?"

"A keep, a large one. Highgarden Mayhaps." he said and Bronn laughed.

"How the fuck can you get me, Highgarden?"

"That depends, have you ever killed a bastard?" he asked, smiling at the thought of seeing Jon Snow finally brought low.

Winterfell 303 AC.

Sansa Stark.

She wished she was in Rickon's place. Not only because it would mean her brother would be up and in good health, but her wish was more selfish at that time. She was mentally exhausted and lost in her misery. While she was still able to show a strong demeanor in front of everyone, she was broken inside.

Littlefinger and the Lords of the Vale were making more and more outrageous demands now that they felt they had leverage over the North. That Bran had been the one to publically give them that power had hurt her greatly, but her brother knew things, she could not deny it, and only a fool would ignore his counsel. Still, she felt as if she was one, as memories of her last spat with Arya came to her mind.

"Arya, I swear to you on everything I hold dear that I didn't know what they would do."

"I don't believe you."

"I know I have made mistakes in the past-"

"Mistakes? Your desire to be Queen led you to betray your own Father! How is that a simple mistake?"

"Don't you think I feel guilty enough about what happened to Father? I tried to correct my mistakes, I begged Joffrey to forgive Father for his treason-"

"You were the one committing treason against your own family! And now you're doing the same! You condemned Father and our entire household by running to Cersei to warn her that we were ordered to leave."

"It was stupid and I will forever bear this error of judgment in my heart, but I was a child at the time! I didn't know it would go this far! If I could turn back time I wouldn't do so again!"

"You sided with Joffrey against Robb when you asked him to bend the knee and denounce Father as a traitor..."

"The Lannisters were mistreating me! I had no choice!" she tried to defend herself.

"You sided with Littlefinger against Aunt Lysa."

"How..."

"Was it because you were a child, then? That you protected the man who had killed our Aunt?"

"She tried to kill me! I owed him a debt for spiriting me out of King's Landing! And she thought I wanted him, she tried to kill me and he saved my life again!"

"Did you owe him when you agreed to wed into the Boltons? The family of traitors who killed our family and took our position as Warden of the North? Or was it simply because you wanted to be in a position of power once again?"

"I..."

"Did you owe him when you've withheld information about the Knight of the Vales in the Battle of the Bastards at the expense of Rickon's life? Or was our brother simply an inconvenience to your future as Lady of Winterfell?"

"Arya..."

"I think it's high time we tell everyone about your role in the decline of the North," Arya said, her eyes blazing with fury.

Panic ran through Sansa's veins as she saw her sister move to the door.

"Arya, please don't do this!" she begged, running after her and grabbing her arm, only to gasp as she felt the coldness of a blade against her neck.

She could read the hatred in Arya's eyes and tears ran through her cheek as she realized that her sister would not hesitate to kill her.

"So, it has really come to that…" she sobbed. "You're turning against me. You're willing to become a kinslayer?"

"I said nothing until now because a part of me believed you when you said it would break our family, that it would break Rickon's heart and my little brother didn't deserve to look down even more upon you. I believed that you deserved a chance to prove that you were still a Stark. I guess my hopes got the better of me once again because I fell for your lies."

"I didn't lie… I just don't know how to make it better…"

"Renounce the regency. Let the Lords do what Rickon bid them. forget about sending the Free Folk away and mayhaps I will believe you."

"It's not that simple!" Sansa cried desperately.

"Then make it simple or I will destroy your image of the perfect Lady in a snap. I give you until Jon's return to make it right. Anything I deem as going against Rickon's wishes and the North's interest and I will not hesitate to intervene."

Time was closing on her and she found no solution for the Vale problem. Her sister was now truly opposing her and Bran was of no help at all. Worst of all, Littlefinger's insistence and attention towards her increased, and she wanted so much to break guest right and end his life, but she couldn't. She had thought about telling Yohn Royce what had really happened with Lysa and Jon Arryn. She knew though that her image had been tainted the moment the Knights of the Vale had heard about her going willingly to the Boltons to wed Ramsay, and it would be difficult for her to make them believe her now.

She finally decided to get ready for the day and to get out of her now cold bath when Lyanna Mormont barged into her room unannounced, making Sansa scream out in fear.

"Are you out of your mind?" she yelled, scurrying to find something to cover her body.

"I should be the one asking you that! Who the hell do you think you are to talk about marriage on my behalf?" Lyanna retorted, making Sansa sigh.

"I suppose that you have talked to Lord Baelish…"

"Ayem and he smugly told me that he wanted me to wed, without asking for my consent. And that you were aware of that!"

"He asked me to talk to you about this eventuality, but I never agreed to do so," Sansa replied tiredly, unable to maintain her usual façade. Not when she stood almost naked in front of the girl. Thankfully the guards at least had the decency to close the door behind them, the two of them looking as embarrassed as she felt. "Do you mind if I dress?"

Lyanna narrowed her eyes but nodded and Sansa felt self-conscious as she grabbed her small clothes and slip to cover herself. She knew that the Lady of Bear Island could see the marks on her body, the remnants of her life with Ramsay, and she hurried to cover them to the best extent that she could, without getting fully dressed.

"Now, talk," Lyanna ordered.

"Baelish asked for a lot of things. One of them was to send you to the Vale so that you could marry my cousin, but we both know that will never happen."

"Do we?" Lyanna asked, not looking as she believed her.

"You are the head of your House, Lady Mormont. Only the Head of your House, one of your parents with superior authority, or the King himself could decide who you can wed."

"And since I am the Head of my House and I would rather die than marry a southerner, that's why he turned to the King's Regent to carry out his dirty schemes," Lyanna spat.

"Indeed. And as my brother's regent, it is my duty to as my brother would command."

"Rickon would never -"

"No he wouldn't, hence my refusal to talk to you about this. For this reason, and that I would never put someone in a position that I knew from personal experience to be an unpleasant one."

"I don't get it."

"We both know that whatever idea Littlefinger has for you, it will never come to pass. You will kill your supposed betrothed before anything could be signed. Hells, Rickon himself would kill him if he knew about that. He might even try to have Baelish's head simply for suggesting it." Sansa chuckled fondly.

"Of course he would, he is my friend!" Lyanna said petulantly and Sansa smiled for the first time in days.

"Friend… If you say so…" she said, amused.

"What is it with people who think there's more to it than what we say? We are not courting!" Lyanna retorted, visibly annoyed.

"Well, whether or not this is the case… Politically speaking, this would be a nightmare for the North and for the Vale. You would cause far too much trouble and I need my cousin very much alive."

"So you will not force it on me?" Lyanna asked, still wary of her.

"Regardless of what you think of me, I will never subject another woman to another of Littlefinger's plans. I have suffered enough because of them and I still am."

"Why is he still here, then? Why are you agreeing to their other demands?"

"I'm trying to buy some time, my Lady. And I fear we don't have much left."

"The Free Folk? Everything you've declared in the council?"

"I… My brother says we will not win without their support. And I trust my brother."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't."

"Bran is -"

"A cunt who doesn't care a fucking thing about his family. How many times did he visit Rickon? How often do you and Arya go in a day?"

"And how many times do you?" Sansa asked and Lyanna rolled her eyes.

"That is not the point. Rickon doesn't trust him."

"He doesn't trust me either."

"True. And I don't either. Stop listening to Bran and get rid of the parasites from the South and perhaps that would change."

"Is that an order?" Sansa frowned, feeling threatened by Lyanna's assertive tone.

"It's the best thing to do if you ever want to be respected in the North. Do what you want with that piece of advice, I do not care. Things will change soon and I hope you will be ready to face the consequences of your actions, or lack of. Don't forget, the North Remembers and your case so far is not a good one, Lady Bolton."

Sansa stood frozen as Lyanna walked out of her room, less agitated than before but still angry at her. The use of her wedded name made her shiver. No matter how much she tried to distance herself from the name and the things she had endured under her husband's hands, there was always someone or something to remind her of it. She had realized during their last meeting with the Lords that marrying Ramsay had made her untrustworthy in the eyes of the North and she then understood why no one had wanted to fight for her to get Winterfell back. Had it not been for Jon and Ser Davos, a bastard deserter of the Watch and a southerner as they'd been called many times by some Lords, they would have garnered no support for their cause at all. It now pained her to think about all that she had been led to believe growing up.

She thought about her mother claiming she would be the best queen the seven kingdoms would have seen since Good Queen Alysanne, and yet she had never been prepared for life at court at all. Not like Margaery Tyrell who knew how to behave and to look the part. Instead, it had been ladylike pursuits that her mother and Septa had encouraged her to take part in when she'd truly needed a fuller education.

She thought about how Littlefinger had convinced her that her name alone would make her untouchable in the North. How people were just waiting for a Stark to return and how they would support her claim when the time would be right. How wrong he had been and how stupid she was to still follow his advice. The North had suffered because of the Starks, because of her indirectly. So while some of those in the North were still loyal to her father's memory and oaths given to her ancestors centuries ago, they'd shown that their survival was more important than following the right name and she couldn't blame them for that. Not after doing so herself.

Yet they followed Rickon, and not once since the start of his reign had he been disrespected. Of course, there were people like Glover and the Lords of the Vale who wanted him gone, for nefarious reasons. Rickon had however managed something that she wasn't certain Robb had in his time as King in the North. Even those who fought against the Starks defended Rickon because he represented them and took their opinions into consideration. His council was loyal to a fault, refusing to compromise an inch on what they knew Rickon would have refused to do. They were steadfast in their positions and not one move from Littlefinger would convince them to turn their cloak, if anything, it made them even stronger in their convictions.

What she had tried to accomplish all her life, Rickon had done in a few moons. He was respected as a leader and loved by the people. Sansa doubted they'd ever love her, especially if they knew that she was somewhat one of the catalysts of the War of the Five Kings. She wished that she could be one of them. She wished her parents could look down on her proudly and say she had done well. That she was a true Lady of the North, a true Stark, a member of the Pack, and that she was loved.

But she wasn't.

She would soon have to face the wrath of the Lords, of her family, and her salvation would reside in how she would meet their judgment. For she was certain that Arya was not bluffing and she couldn't possibly make the Lords of the Vale leave now. She felt as if everything was crumbling around her and she could rely on no one to comfort her, and worst of all, it was entirely her fault.

Sansa finished getting dressed and went to her brother's side. As usual, when she got there, Arya left the room, but not without giving her a hateful glance and a warning about watching her. What hurt Sansa the most was that her own sister would think she was capable of voluntarily harming their family. It had never been her intention, not even when she was a child. She had been selfish, yes, and so she had clung to the idea of being queen. She had thought she deserved it once because her mother had told her that the King had chosen her and Joffrey had seemed so gallant in a time of what only mattered to her was herself.

Mayhaps her sister was right and she was still that selfish little girl trapped in a woman's body. Looking at her brother's frail form, she was reminded of how she had acted when Bran had fallen from the First Tower. She had been inconsolable at first, thinking of how her little brother was hurt and would probably die, but while she didn't wish for Bran's death and had never done so, she remembered being annoyed for the inconvenience he posed at the time. Their trip South had been delayed until it couldn't be so any longer, and the more Sansa thought of it, the more ashamed she felt for pressing their unwilling father to hasten their journey. She had done so though, so eager was she to discover the south and its delights.

"Father didn't want to leave, you know?" she said as she took her place next to Rickon, happy to see Ghost settle near her. "He didn't want to go South, not when one of his children was hurt, but he felt that he had to go for the good of his other children. He left for my sake, I'm sure of it. Because I was an annoyance to him at that time. I know what you would say. 'Sansa, you still are still an annoyance, dear sister', and you would be right…" she chuckled. "I know you were mad at Jon for leaving, and maybe that's why you're… why you don't want to wake up. Maybe you think he has abandoned you, but he hasn't. I know he hasn't because he cares about you more than anything else. Jon will come back, he always doe., That's what his former brothers of the Night's Watch told me once. And I hope you'll be with us to welcome him back. Please, little brother, we need you to wake up. I cannot… I know people believe I wanted to take your place, and in a way, I did, until I realized that you were already doing what I wished to accomplish. You were protecting our family to the best of your abilities, and you were doing it so well that we feel….I feel…. lost without you… Things are definitely not the same without you here." she said as she felt Ghost lick her hand and she moved her head to rest it on her brother's chest, the sound of his heart beating offering her some comfort at least.

King's Landing 303 AC.

Olenna.

When the queen had arrived without Jon Snow, she'd been worried that despite the raven saying otherwise, he'd succumbed to his injuries. Given what Varys had found out and her own fondness for the young man, that would have been an absolute disaster. So she'd been greatly relieved, if not a little miffed, that he'd recovered and was now heading back to the North. She'd have preferred him to be here and for him to be available to speak to, but in the end, it changed little as what had to be done, still had to be done. Her conversation with Varys had shown that clearly.

"You're certain of this?" she asked.

"As certain as I can be until I speak to the woman personally." Varys replied.

"Milk brothers…" Olenna sighed.

"Lord Dayne was clear on that point and knowing that the woman swaddled Jon Snow when he was but a babe, I have no doubt that this Wylla knows the truth of his birth. Her reluctance to speak to anyone but Jon Snow himself tells me even more this is true. Which is why I've arranged for her to come to King's Landing and join her grace when she heads north." Varys said and Olenna nodded before asking about the other side of the Jon Snow issue, his parents.

"What of the nature of Rhaegar and Lyanna's relationship?"

"They wed my lady, of that I've no doubt. Apparently, there is something in the Septon's journal about this, though thus far my little birds have not been able to find it." Varys replied.

"Mayhap I need to send word to Lord Leyton or Ser Baelor? The Hightowers are the Defenders of the Faith and if anyone can get access to Septon's journals then surely they can"

"Would that they could, my lady. I fear the book itself may no longer exist and if so then the letters may be the only proof. Hopefully, you can prove me wrong."

"The letters, what do they say?" she asked eagerly.

"That Septon Maynard presided over a wedding between a dragon and a wolf."

"He didn't name them?" she asked annoyedly.

"No more than that, I believe the Septon thought himself to be clever." Varys replied and she was pleased that he kept his usual tittering to himself.

"He was very much not. This is enough, for us, for the queen mayhap, though not for the realm." she said more to herself than to Varys though he answered anyway.

"Once they're wed it matters not, my lady. Trueborn or not, it makes no difference. He is Rhaegar's son and it's only a matter of time before he and the green dragon take to the skies together. They must be wed and we must see it done."

"We will, Lord Varys, we will."

Knowing what she needed to do, she'd brought it up the first chance she got and wasn't surprised when Tyrion reacted how he did. Though she was by how far he went and when the queen spoke as furiously as she did, Olenna did her best not to chuckle. Tyrion losing his pin was a surprise and a most welcome one and watching him as he walked from the room brought her a huge sense of relief. She had intended to speak to Jon Snow or Jon Targaryen as he may well be, the soonest she could in regards to Tyrion's role. Olenna hoped that like her, he'd noticed how Tyrion had acted in the Dragonpit and that he'd seek the queen to act because of it. It now seemed the queen had noticed it too.

"Lady Olenna, I would name you Hand of the Queen." Daenerys said holding out the pin in her hand and Olenna didn't need to look to see the angered expression on Tyrion's face as the door closed behind him.

"Your Grace, I am most honored. However, as with Lord Tyrion, mine own crimes are now known. A Kingslayer for a Hand is just as troubling as a Kinslayer, your grace."

"Unless that King truly needs killing, my lady." Daenerys said and Olenna looked at her curiously "Jon told me some of what King Joffrey did. He spoke of how he treated his sister and that it was he who decided that his father should die."

"I believe that to be true, your grace."

"Then you did the realm a service, my lady. Now with that in mind." Daenerys said looking at the pin and Olenna nodded.

She put the pin on her chest and looked to see that both Ellaria and Varys seemed pleased by this, as did Missandei.

"While I know you may wish to speak on matters of my marriage and of the North, I'd prefer to deal with other matters first before we then have that particular discussion." Daenerys said and there were no arguments from any of those present.

"The Reach, Lady Olenna. I…I know this may be difficult but you are the last of your line, are you not?" she asked and Olenna shook her head.

"Not quite, your grace. While Loras and my sweet Margaery may have taken most of my attention I was not remiss in regards to my other grandchildren. I have two grandsons and a granddaughter and their mother, my daughter, still lives. As does my other daughter who's still young enough to bring forth an heir. Desmera is a fine young lady and with the right match could be a good choice to sit in my stead in Highgarden, a better one than perhaps either of my grandsons. So with your leave, I'd seek to look to her." she said and Daenerys nodded her agreement.

"The Riverlands?" Daenerys asked while looking at Varys.

"Lord Tully lives still, my queen, and given his ties to House Stark may still be best to name as Lord Paramount once he bends the knee." Varys said and while he got no reply, it was perhaps the best idea.

"My arrangement with Lady Greyjoy still stands and so she'll be named as Queen of the Iron Islands in due course. As for Dorne?" Daenerys looked to Ellaria and Tyene who sat nervously "I can accept your counsel Lady Ellaria, but I cannot name you as Princess of Dorne, nor can I name Lady Tyene either. The words that Cersei Lannister spoke regarding her brother ring true for you both as well and while not many may be aware of what happened with Prince Doran, should they find out…"

"Who would you name in my stead, your grace?" Ellaria asked and Olenna was surprised there was no anger or recrimination in her tone, though considering that Daenerys had saved her and her daughter's lives by trading Jaime Lannister, perhaps she should not have been.

"You mentioned another daughter, a Sarella I believe?" Daenerys questioned the name more than anything else Olenna felt.

"I did."

"And she played no part in either Prince Doran or Myrcella Waters' demise?"

"No, your grace, she did not. She's been studying at the Citadel while pretending to be a boy." Ellaria said proudly.

"Then I would name her true, as a Martell and as Princes of Dorne."

"I thank you, your grace. My counsel is yours for as long as you wish it and Dorne's spears are yours to call on should the need arise." Ellaria said and Olenna smiled, the queen proving cleverer here than she'd expected her to be.

They spoke about the West and who could be named Warden, Varys telling them that perhaps Ser Daven Lannister would be best and the queen asking to meet the man first. When the queen suggested naming Aurane Waters as Lord Paramount of the Crownlands and having it formed into a much truer set of lands, she was surprised and yet it made some sense to her. As did her plan to legitimize the man now that he was the last of his house.

"The Vale, your grace?" Varys asked.

"Lord Baelish suggested he could bring the Vale to my side if I agreed to let him marry Lady Sansa Stark when I met him briefly at Winterfell."

"Suggested or made it a condition of, your grace?" she asked and Varys spoke before the queen could.

"Please, Your Grace. Tell me you're not considering doing this to the poor girl. She suffered greatly at the hands of the last husband she was forced to wed. Ramsay Bolton's mistreatment of her was unconscionable. Not to mention that the last thing she would need would be to be wed to another traitor to her family." Varys's worries were clear and ones she'd not ever heard him express for anyone ever before, though perhaps he was doing so now because of who her brother, no cousin, truly was.

"I have no intent of doing such a thing, Lord Varys. I know too well what it's like to be forced into a marriage against your will and not even the Vale would be worth such a price. Nor would our intentions with the North be helped by such." Daenerys said firmly.

"Then Robin Arryn it is to be."

"Is the boy still living, Lord Varys? I would have thought that Littlefinger would have seen him dead by now?" Olenna said looking to the Master of Whisperers.

"He lives, my lady."

"Send word to Lord Arryn, make sure to tell him that his fealty is demanded and not requested, Lord Varys. As for Lord Baelish, do you have evidence of his actions against House Stark? The queen asked.

"It can be found, your grace."

"Then I'm sure Lord Snow would be most appreciative, my lord."

She more than anything wished to speak further about the North and looked to Varys who seemed to wish to do the same, only for the queen to bring up the Stormlands and Lady Melisandre to put forward a name she'd not expected.

"Ser Davos Seaworth, your grace. There is no better or truer man than he to be named as Lord Paramount. He has the respect of the Stormlands for his service to Lord Stannis in both the Rebellion and the War of the Five Kings. That I owe him a debt is only partly my reason for suggesting him, for were my prince here then I have no doubt that he's the name he'd give you." Melisandre said and the queen nodded.

"Lord Varys?"

"Other than a bastard son of Robert Baratheon which may cause its own issues, I know of no better choice and Ser Davos has young sons already that secure his line, your grace."

"Lady Olenna?"

"I have no objection, your grace."

"Very well. I thank you for your counsel Lady Melisandre. I believe we must speak about the North and my potential marriage now." the queen said and Olenna could see that there was some eagerness to do so on the queen's part that had not been there when Tyrion Lannister was still in the room.

"Perhaps we could speak more privately, your grace. Lord Varys and I have some news we'd like to share."

Ellaria and Tyene, along with Missandei and Grey Worm left the room, with Lady Melisandre staying to stand on Jon Snow's behalf. Varys then looked at her as if he was bidding her begin.

"Ever since his counsel saved my life, your grace, Lord Snow and I have spoken much and often, and over time I've come to recognize certain traits in him that I've seen before."

"Jon said he looked much like his father." Daenerys said and Olenna nodded.

"He does, your grace, though not in coloring. Lord Stark is not his father, your grace, Lord Varys and I believe and our inquiries only make it even more likely that Jon Snow is the son of Lyanna and Rhaegar Targaryen."

"What? How? It can't….you're saying that he's my nephew?`` The queen's shock was clear and as Varys poured her a glass of water, Olenna looked to see that Lady Melisandre seemed less shocked, as if she'd just found an answer to a question that she'd not asked.

Olenna looked to Varys who began to tell the tale of the rebellion and of how three knights of the Kingsguard including Prince Rhaegar's closest and truest friend, Ser Arthur Dayne, died while guarding a tower in Dorne. How Ned Stark brought back the bones of his sister and a babe he'd named as his bastard from Dorne and why no one asked the questions they were asking now. When he told the queen that they believed him trueborn and that because of this as well as what he meant to the North, that a marriage was not only desirable but necessary, the words the queen spoke only made that more clear.

"Rhaegal, that's why he bonded with Rhaegal and why my son has accepted him as his rider." the queen said softly, happily even.

"Jon is a Dragonrider?" Olenna asked, amazed and yet not.

"My prince has flown to Winterfell on the Green Dragon, Lady Olenna. The dragon that her grace named after his father."

"Blood of my blood." the queen said, the smile on her face a true one, and Olenna was sure she'd not have to do much more convincing to see the dragons tied in marriage once again.

Winterfell 303 AC.

Petyr Baelish.

He could feel her slipping away from his grasp. Oh, she thought she had him still wrapped around her finger with her half-smiles and her empty promises. It would take far more than a caress on the cheek to fool a man like him.

It somewhat frustrated him that Sansa didn't seem to learn anything he tried to teach her. That she could still not see the bigger picture and was stuck in her belief that being in Winterfell was all she needed to amount to in life. Like her mother, she wasn't aware of her true potential, and like her mother she let her tender heart and her love for her family get the better of her. How could Sansa not see how detrimental the other Starks were to her, to them?

He had a plan and she was aware of it. She was still part of it for now but he was at the end of his patience with her. Sansa kept him at arm's length ever since her bitch of a sister had come back, making their so-called pack complete. He had tried to show her that she could not count on her family by creating a rift between her and Arya, who was so much like the Starks he had grown to hate as a young lad in that she was easy to read. He pitted the wild sister against the poised one and waited, hoping that the rift caused between the sisters would bring Sansa back to his fold, but his protege still resisted much to his dismay.

Where she would not hesitate to listen to his counsel before, she now outright refused it, and it took everything in his self-control not to strike her like he would disobedient whores who thought they knew better than he. He couldn't get rid of Arya Stark. For how can you dispose of a Faceless Man without getting yourself killed? So instead he'd tried to make Sansa knock some sense into the other Stark brat, pointing out how dangerous it was for him to stay close to such a menace. Rather than open King Rickon's eyes though, it seemed to bring him even closer to Arya and push him further from Sansa and so his control.

Fucking Starks. At least this one won't be much of a problem now.

Rickon's physical state had given Petyr an opportunity to create more chaos in the Northern ranks and to show Sansa that she might be the Lady of Winterfell in name, but he was the one in charge of her fate. He had given her the push she needed by calling a meeting in her name. That the cripple had then played into his hands unknowingly by telling Sansa she should be regent was a good and welcome surprise to him. Arya's anger was an added bonus, as he could twist the narrative around the fact that she was jealous of not having been named Regent due to her closeness to the boy. The cripple didn't seem to mind Sansa being in charge for now, which left Petyr just two wild cards to take care of.

Jon Snow would definitely be a problem if he came back from the South. His closeness to the Targaryen girl would make him consider bending the knee, and all of Littlefinger's plans relied on the North staying independent. The Vale and the Riverlands, through their kinship with Sansa, would declare for her when the time would be right, and by then the way to the Iron Throne would be more open to them. As he would make sure to remind the other kingdoms of the sins of the Targaryens and turn them against a possible new tyrant. The dragons were a problem, but a problem he could deal with should he surround himself with the right people. The Citadel may not involve itself in Westeros politics, but their Maesters and Archmaesters could be convinced to help with the right price or the right whores, and had never held love for the dragons either.

He sighed as he finished his letter to his goodson, the other thorn in his side. Daenerys Targaryen's presence changed a lot of things and the Vale had to tread carefully in dealing with her. Something he'd tried to do when she'd arrived in Winterfell a few weeks past, though since she'd not given him a true response, something he wasn't sure how successful he'd been at.

"Queen Daenerys, may I accompany you to your room? Given how angry the Lords of the North seem to be, I feel it unsafe for you to walk there alone," he said, smiling warmly to her after the debacle that had been Jon Snow's announcement.

"I thank you, my Lord?"

"Baelish, Your Grace. I am the regent of Lord Robert Arryn, the Lord Paramount of the Vale."

Her smile tightened and Petyr wondered if he had already heard about him. He didn't know much about her entourage, other than that she had chosen Tyrion Lannister as Hand, which already showed her in a negative light, and that she had the Reach and Dorne on her side. Yet she accepted the arm he offered and walked with him silently at first.

"And what brings the Regent of the Lord Paramount of the Vale so far from his home?"

"Well, Lord Arryn is kin to the King in the North and his trueborn brother and sisters. That is why, in their time of need, he sent me and part of our forces to help them take back their home from the Boltons."

"Wasn't Lady Sansa married to a Bolton? Or was my information false?" Daenerys asked confusedly.

"Unfortunately, she was. A sordid affair, truly. Lord Bolton put her through so much misery that even I cannot imagine how much she suffered. But she is a strong woman, and my heart rejoices to see her free from his hold."

"Your heart, you say?"

"Lady Sansa is very dear to me, Your Grace. I was the one who saved her from King's Landing, where she was held hostage when her father died by King Joffrey's hand. I protected her as best that I could."

"You seem to care a lot for Lady Sansa…"

"I was the Master of Coin under King Tommen's reign and I became a traitor to his cause, just so I could help Sansa get what she deserves. I would do anything to ensure she does."

"And what do you think she deserves now, Lord Baelish?"

"Someone worthy of her, Your Grace. Someone who will take care of her and give her the best."

"You mean a husband? You want Lady Sansa to wed again?"

"She would never… Not after what Ramsay Bolton did to her. If only someone could make her see that she has a chance of happiness with someone who truly cares for her…"

"Perhaps."

"Such a union with the right man may be to your own advantage as well, Your Grace." he said smiling as the queen took in his words.

She never gave him an answer, but the nod she gave him when he reminded her of their discussion before she departed was enough to let him know she hadn't forgotten. Sansa's interactions with Daenerys made her a clear opponent to her view of the North's future. So even if his plans would not come to fruition, he would at least get this consolation prize of widening the gap between them both, while then waiting for his moment to strike.

Since his encounter with the Dragon Queen, he had instructed Robin to keep the remaining Knights of the Vale on high alert, but not to engage in battle should any of the pretending queens ask for his support. His pupil didn't seem to understand why he could just not claim the independence of the Vale, as his cousins had done with the North, so he had to send yet another missive to make him see reason. He was growing tired of catering to entitled children's each and every whims, but he needed to bide his time before Robin's demise so that he could use him to his best advantage and get what he wanted from him.

He chuckled as he thought about the union he had suggested for Robin. Lyanna Mormont was yet another person that he needed to get rid of, and he knew how poorly she would do as the Lady of the Vale. In truth, he had no intention of honoring the betrothal should it happen. Which he doubted it would, judging by the brat's reaction, and he didn't plan for the Defender of the Vale to live long enough to be able to wed either. All of it was just a way to create even more chaos and to test Sansa's loyalty to him. He needed her to do what she must, to do what should be done, for their sake. As nothing else mattered more to him than getting what he had longed for so long.

He gave Lyn Corbray the letter for his liege and went in search of Sansa, already knowing where she would be should he not find her in her rooms. For a moment, he felt a pang in his heart while watching the woman he loved caring for her brother. Flashes of the past, of a time when he was the one abed and Catelyn, was the one watching over him. Images of her professing her love for him and thanking him for trying to defend her honor, came to him. No matter how many times Lysa had lied to him, stating that she was the only one who cared for him after his infamous duel with Brandon Stark, Petyr had always cherished that memory. As much as he cherished the time that Catelyn gave herself to him and gave him the only thing that neither of the Stark brothers would ever get: her innocence. Now looking at her daughter, his one regret about handing her to the Bolton's was that he'd missed out on being the one to take her maidenhead, just as he had her mother's.

"What are you doing here, Lord Baelish," Sansa's voice brought him back and he internally cringed, hating how much her formal stance got on his nerves.

One day, he thought, one day you'll be mine and I'll make you scream my name…

"Lord Baelish," she insisted. "Is something the matter?"

"I'm afraid there is, My Love." he answered solemnly. "Someone brought to my attention that the Lords of the North are to be gathered and are intending to have a meeting as we speak."

"I do not see what is wrong with that, my Lord."

"I fear they wish to question your rule, Sansa. The council has been most vocal about their opinions, were they to manage to convince the other Lords…"

"Would it truly be a bad thing?" she asked doubtfully and he almost glared at her, almost.

"This is not the Sansa Stark I know. What is the matter with you?"

"I am well."

"Yet you don't seem to be worried about the Lords uniting against you." he frowned. "Did you know about this meeting?"

"I am tired, my Lord." she sighed loudly. "I am tired of fighting constantly against my family and the rest of my people. If they want to give the regency away, then so be it."

" I thought you were against the idea of people deciding your fate without your input, my dear. What if they decide to chase you from your home?"

"They wouldn't." she said, her voice unsure and he welcomed that doubt, relished hearing it in her voice

"Are you willing to take that risk?" he said, before going in for the kill" For If I knew you would not care about what could happen to you, then I wouldn't have refused Daenerys Targaryen's proposal. I had thought you were strong, that you would take control of things, and so I refused to force your hand on the matter. Yet I must say that I am truly disappointed right now Sansa."

"What are you talking about, my Lord? What proposal?" Sansa asked, confused.

"She had asked for my help against Cersei in exchange for your hand in marriage."

"How… Why… What did you answer?"

The look of horror on her face should have hurt him, yet he found it did not. Instead, it was the knowledge that he had her, that his words had hit home and she was once again ready to do his bidding, that he concentrated on. If only he had known before now that this would be her biggest fear, he would have used this sooner.

Winterfell 303 AC.

Wyman Manderly.

A few days ago.

Wyman was not a morning person, especially during winter. He enjoyed staying under his covers and relished the warmth of the room. Winterfell however was well known for its hot springs and warmed walls and he was glad it was there and not in White Harbor that the Northern Lords had gathered. Not that he didn't miss his home, but they would probably have gone through half of their wood stores by now. Every single one of them could feel that the cold was taking an even firmer grip on the North. More so as the days had passed since they'd received the White Raven. Winter was no longer coming, it was here.

The day ahead was to be a special one, so Wyman set aside his dislike for rising early and giddily got ready to meet the others in the Great Hall. He had waited for this moment to happen for too long. For the true men and women of the North to truly unite and voice their opinions as one. At first, he had thought they'd done so when they had named Rickon their King, but he had later learned through conversations that some Lords had followed his lead out of cowardice and not faith. After he had dressed and made his way to the Great Hall, he pondered on things before the meeting truly began, even forgoing the breaking of his fast as he sat there lost in thought.

Wyman and his family were followers of the Seven, they were amongst the few in the North who did so along with seemingly Sansa Stark, and yet he loathed to think of her as a woman of faith. So seeing Rickon Stark being brought back from the dead by a priestess of R'hllor had shaken his beliefs to their very core. Had he not heard the tales and seen the evidence himself of the Battle of the Bastards and the boy's death, then he would have named it a mummery orchestrated to rally the North behind a Stark instead of a Snow. Yet in truth, had his king not been brought back from the dead and had simply survived the battle, then Wyman would have chosen Jon Snow to rule the North instead of Rickon. Even with some of the Lords naming him a deserter of the Watch and calling for his head.

War was a terrible thing and Jon Snow had lived it thrice. Once against the wildlings, once against the dead, and once amidst men who had broken faith with his family. Despite this, each time after he fought, he had then set aside his differences with his enemies for the greater good. It was a sign of a good commander and a good leader, and honor and oaths be damned, that was what the North needed now more than ever.

Rickon Stark was even more formidable than his older brother in that regard, much to Wyman's great surprise. He had taken in his brother's teachings and example and in a short time had proved himself to be a worthy king. The boy heeded his people's counsel while always staying true to what he believed. His ruthlessness and no-nonsense attitude were refreshing for a lot of people, especially after a period of political and practical nightmares for the North. Most of the Lords had been completely against the Boltons' rule but had lost too much to risk voicing their disagreements. Which had in turn led to much hypocrisy and unease.

That he had been named into the Northern Council at King Rickon's behest had taken him by surprise. Wyman would have served the new King as truly as any man regardless, but he had been proud to be acknowledged by Rickon for his expertise and this had prompted him to give his all to the task he had been given.

He had worked tirelessly with Ser Davos Seaworth to assess the North's assets. Coin, food, goods, and the best way to use what they had to withstand winter and the upcoming war. The Northern Lord's coffers were almost empty, and even with the addition of the Boltons' ones, they were far from having enough to feed their people. Then came the problem of hosting the Free Folk and the people from Bear Island, the Mountain Clans, Karhold, Last Hearth, and Deepwoote Motte in Winterfell and Wintertown.

It had been agreed with King Rickon that the people unable to fight that resided south of Hornwood would be hosted in White Harbor and that all the food from Hornwood, Ramsgate, Widow's Watch, and Oldcastle would be directed there. Wyman had already sent out some ships with Ser Davos's help to gather more food in Essos and had appointed his son Wylis to watch over the settlement of their new inhabitants. Some of the Free Folk offered their help in bringing furs and game to them, and they soon found a rhythm in collaborating that Wyman would never have dreamed of. He was now more than certain that the North wouldn't have survived if Jon Snow had not allowed them to cross the Wall.

To make matters even worse the Knights of the Vale, led by that fucking opportunist Littlefinger, had decided to intervene and do all they could to mess up their alliances. Most of the lords he talked with were convinced they had a hand with what ailed their king and had done so to further their plan of placing Sansa Stark on the Throne of Winter. The fact that the girl, who kept opposing both her brother's views from the beginning, objected so lightly to the request and forced it on them, had incensed all those present in the assembly. Brandon Stark's condoning this invasion into the Northern affairs under the guise of needing the Vale forces to fight against the dead had only made things worse. Upon hearing the raised voices, he shook his head and tried to instead concentrate on what was being said in front of him.

"Fucking Starks! That family is seriously messed up! And as for this so-called Brandon, what a fucking shame he is to his namesake!" Barbrey Dustin raged. "Someone should send for Jon Snow to come back. I won't hesitate to follow him rather than this replica of Catelyn Tully! I swear to the gods, if these southern women hadn't thought themselves better than everyone else, then nothing bad would have ever happened in the North."

"You cannot say that Barbrey." he tried to calm her down.

"Oh, you think so? Who sent both of her daughters South so that one could become Queen when it only needed one of them to leave? We all heard of Lady Stark's contempt over little Underfoot choosing to follow the bastard that her mother hated so much and who has since ended up being a blessing for the North! I wouldn't even be surprised if he had been sent to the Wall because of her. That poor lad. He has the strong mind of Brandon and the ruthlessness of Lyanna. He looks nothing like that Weak Quiet Wolf who let his woman start a war that we all suffered from."

"Your anger towards Catelyn Stark is misplaced, Barbrey, and it will not help us solve this problem." Lyanna Mormont said reproachfully.

"Yet Lady Dustin is right, Lady Lyanna," he was surprised to hear Arya Stark say. "My family has a lot to atone for. Especially towards the North because of the way the War of the Five Kings started. Those responsible for the bad decisions that led the Boltons into power are all dead, and we, as the children of Ned Stark, have to be better than those who came before us. Rickon and Jon, I believe they are, and I will defend their rights as long as I draw breath."

"Even against the interests of your sister or your other brother? Both of them seem so convinced that they are on the right path." he asked.

"Then we will have to show them that they are on the wrong one!" Arya answered emphatically.

"Will you take the regency should we push for it, my Lady?" Lyanna Mormont asked warily and a little curiously he felt too as if the lady was judging another Stark and comparing her to her sister.

"I will never usurp my brother. Jon is Rickon's regent and it is our duty as his people to ensure that his will is respected. If Sansa does not work for the interests of the North, then she is working against Rickon and Jon, and I for one will not tolerate that."

"What do we do now?" he asked, looking at the two ladies and to Barbrey Dustin as well as the others who were present.

"We keep preparing according to Rickon's, Jon's, and your own plans. The next step after securing Moat Cailin is sending all non-fighting forces there, aye?"

"Aye, my Lady."

"Do you think we can trust Glover to put in place a shelter for both the Free Folk and our people?" Arya asked.

"I do not think so."

"They will be welcome in Barrowtown, my Lady," Barbrey surprised them both and Arya nodded.

"How much food would be required for the journey and the reserves?" Lyessa Flint asked ever practically as always.

"If we gather those unable to fight from Deepwood Motte, Sea Dragon Point, the Rylls and Barrowtown as well as the grain and food reserves from those keeps, then we should alleviate the burdens of feeding and housing all the men and women we have here and give them a chance to flee to the Moat should anything happen." Ser Davos said.

"Then it's settled. I trust you Lord Manderly, Ser Davos, and Lady Lyanna to do everything you deem necessary. Do not hesitate to involve whoever you find that you believe are Leal and True to King Rickon and the North. Do not keep us in the dark and pray that our King or his regent can counter whatever plans my sister and her friends from the Vale have concocted." With a nod to the still shocked Wyman, Arya walked away, certainly to go back to the King's side.

"What the fuck has just happened?" he asked as Arya was walking from the room.

"You, my dear friend, have just been promoted!" Barbrey chuckled before looking longingly at Arya's retreating form. "I like this one. She has Wolf's Blood for sure, as do at least two of her brothers. She reminds me of Lyanna sometimes."

"You were close to Lyanna Stark, my Lady?" Lyanna Mormont asked keenly as if she wished to learn more about her namesake.

"Close? Not at all, but I saw her often when she visited her brother in the Rylls. A free spirit, with a strong will. Not at all the defenseless flower that some from the South love to depict her as. The King is as wild as Brandon was and just impulsive. As for Jon Snow… I actually am almost certain that he is Brandon's bastard and not Ned Stark's."

"Truly?" Wyman gasped, surprised by this turn of events. Long had he thought about the origins of Jon Snow, but since Ned Stark had never revealed the lad's mother's identity, he was content to just accept that he had Stark blood.

"He has something about him… He is definitely a Stark, there is no denying this, but… I have never bought Ned Stark laying with another woman. That was always more likely something that Brandon would do. Your sons went to war with him. So did my brother and my late husband. Didn't it surprise any of them to see him with a child when he never once strayed in the camp as others like Robert Baratheon did?" Barbrey asked, almost spitting out Robert Baratheon's name.

"I… Never thought of that…" he admitted with some shame, he'd never truly considered a bastard's origins or much of Jon Snow truly until he'd taken back Winterfell.

"Of course you didn't. For the word of Ned Stark was law when he became Warden of the North. Yet he betrayed his word as well did he not? And instead of bringing my husband's bones to me, he brought back his sister's along with a bastard babe and the steed I offered him. What care did I have for a living steed? Why did he find it more important than Willam's bones?" Barbrey said, raising her voice.

"The past is dead, my lady. Best leave those stones unturned lest we find things underneath them that we'd rather not." Ser Davos said and Wyman saw Barbrey's nod of her head and felt it was the best time to end the meeting and their discussion, for now. There was much work to be done after all.

Today.

Life was never simple, though given they would soon have to face an army of dead men, mayhaps that was a given. He'd believed they'd put things right at their last meeting, only to find that they'd been outmaneuvered and that Sansa Stark, or more likely Littlefinger, was a better player of the game than even he. No, that wasn't true, it was that he held no true power or right and the so-called promotion that Barbrey had said he'd been given, was more a curse than a blessing.

The Vale now had representation on a council they had no right to and once again it was down to Brandon Stark's words that had seen to that. As much if not more than it was down to Littlefinger and Yohn Royce's moves and Sansa Stark's acceptance of them. Wyman was beginning to wonder if the girl even realized how much she was being manipulated. Or was she instead playing on sympathies that she was quickly running out of, just to make him and others consider her less guilty than they did those around her?

If he was Regent, then he'd have the power to countermand certain orders and it was overhearing the Knights of the Vale that had given him the idea which he was now on his way to see be realized. He'd heard some mentions of a Lord Declarant and of taking the role that Littlefinger had as acting Defender of the Vale and regent of Lord Arryn away from him. Though that plan had in the end been thwarted by the Mockingbird's words some years earlier. His words wouldn't work today, no man or woman of the North would listen to him and as for Brandon Stark, he would do well to keep his own to himself as well.

Entering the Great Hall of Winterfell, he looked to the Throne of Winter and wished there was someone else sitting there other than Sansa Stark. For the last few days, they'd concentrated on readying the North for what they had to face and hoping that either their King would wake or Jon Snow would return to put things right. With the Free Folk gathering their things and getting ready to leave, they could wait no longer. The time had come for them to act and in the interests of the North, they would do so.

"Lord Manderly." Sansa Stark said stiffly and Wyman offered her a polite bow of his head as he took his seat.

Beside her sat Littlefinger and a seat down sat Lord Royce. Arya Stark, Lyanna Mormont, and Barbrey Dustin along with himself and Ser Davos rounded out those who sat at the High Table and the Lords and Ladies of the North had come out in force. To their left and sitting in the corner wearing that same self look he always wore, was Brandon Stark. He frowned that there was no one representing the Free Folk here and that Tormund had refused his or Ser Davos's request to come and speak on their behalf.

"We'll not stay where we're not wanted, Merman. And I curse that woman and those fucking kneelers she surrounds herself with for making me break an oath to Jon Snow." Tormund said, his anger clear.

He sighed when Sansa rose to her feet and called the meeting to order. The room then quieted down when it was Littlefinger and not the so-called acting regent who spoke.

"My Lords and Ladies of the North. For why has this meeting been called?" Littlefinger asked.

"For why, I'll tell you for fucking why." Barbrey said rising to her feet and Wyman sighed, he'd not wished for anger to be how they started to make their case, only mayhap how they ended it with " What right do you or your fucking Knights of the Vale have to send the Free Folk away? By claiming victory in a battle that you only turned up at when it was near the end? Fucking Cravens, the lot of you. Where were you when we marched South? Or when Jon Snow was seeking allies to remove the Boltons from his family's home? Where were you when our king lay dying in a hall in the Twins or when his heir lay dying in a field no more than a mile from here?"

"The Knights of the Vale won the battle, Lady Dustin. Had we not come then it would have been lost." Yohn Royce said haughtily.

"Aye, but lately it was when you came. Mayhaps we should rename you a Frey, Lord Royce." Lyessa Flint said to much laughter.

"The Knights of the Vale deserve to be respected, Lady Flint. Lord Royce is right, if it were not for them we'd not be sitting here today. You should keep that in mind when you speak so disrespectfully." Littlefinger said with a sneer.

"And you should do the same, my lord." Lyanna Mormont said while glaring at Littlefinger and Wyman noticed how the lord looked at Sansa Stark.

"No sword today, Lady Mormont?" Littlefinger asked with a smirk on his face.

"I need no sword to put a mockingbird in its place, Lord Baelish. Care to test me?"

"Lord Baelish has made a formal complaint against you, Lady Mormont. He claims you broke Guest Right and threatened him. Is this so?" Sansa asked.

"Aye. He's lucky I didn't gut him, but Aye, I threatened him. After that foolishness that he suggested about deciding who I am to wed. You're damn right I fucking threatened him."

"From her own lips." Littlefinger said looking to the other lords "Between Lady Mormont's threats and the way the Free Folk look and act around any of us from the Vale, surely you can see why we feel no safety here? We come only to offer our aid to Lady Sansa and the North and yet are treated with suspicion and doubt and dare I say scorn." Littlefinger appealed to the Lord and Ladies, none of whom seemed to be listening and so Wyman felt now was his chance to speak.

"We're here because decisions are being made which we feel are detrimental to the North. Lady Lyanna speaks of a marriage alliance, one that was not discussed with the council or even with the lady herself, or so I'm led to believe. Lady Sansa, the actions suggested in regards to the Free Folk, Lady Lyanna's betrothal and others have led us to question whether or not you're the…."

"My sister is the only one who can best protect the North's interest, Lord Manderly." Brandon Stark interrupted in his monotone voice.

"Oh, please! Do shut up, you bird of ill omen, for nothing you've said or done so far has helped protect the North interests!" Lyanna Mormont exploded. "My life is on the line, my free will, and you Lady Sansa looked me in the eye and told me you would not force it on me. Now look at me and tell me, whose side are you really on. Do you serve the Vale or the North?"

"Aye, I would be interested in hearing your response, dear sister," Arya Stark added, her furious gaze seemingly daring her to take the worst decision.

"Perhaps we can ask the King's Regent how we should best proceed." Sansa Stark said, relievedly he believed and he and the rest of those present all turned to see Jon Snow walking towards them with Ghost by his side, Wyman smiling as he took his seat and waited to hear what words were spoken by the white wolf.

Winterfell 303 AC.

Jon.

He had thought that flying on a dragon around the island of Dragonstone to be an experience like no other and in a way it was. The island, the keep itself, all of it had to be seen from upon a dragon's back to truly understand what it was Targaryens had accomplished in building the keep and why it was that island that called out to them so much. Yet as majestic as it had been, flying over the lands and seeing how quickly Rhaegal could cover the distance, that truly showed the power of the dragons. More so than even their flames did to his mind.

Before he'd even known it they'd hit the mainland and were flying over the Crownlands. Something that would take days to do by ship and horse, Rhaegal managed in mere hours and he could feel the dragon's joy at the awe that Jon felt regarding him. It was night when they landed and it took him some time to realize where he was. At first, he'd thought it was Harrenhal or even the God's Eye but looking to the ruined Weirwood stumps and the hill that lay ahead of him, Jon knew he was in High Heart.

There were fewer places more sacred to the Children of the Forest than here. Jon remembered the tales that Old Nan would weave about them and he felt the tears fall down his cheek as he remembered who it was that he would be with when she spun those tales. Wiping his eyes he moved to thank Rhaegal and found the dragon to be resting, so he began to look for wood to start a fire and a place for himself to rest for the night too. Whether it was that that drew him to the top of the hill, curiosity, or something else, he knew not, but he found himself there regardless and he almost yelped like a green boy when he heard the voice behind him.

"Long have I waited for you to come here, boy, long have I lived and dreamed of such."

He turned to see a woman who was even smaller than Tyrion. She had the palest flesh he'd ever seen on anyone before and her hair almost shone in the light of the moon. In her hand, she carried a gnarled black cane and her red eyes and long white hair put her in mind of Ghost, something that for some reason made him relax and made her laugh out loud.

"You're not far off, boy. For I too am a Ghost of sorts." the old woman said and Jon looked at her and shook his head.

"How could you? How did you know what I was thinking?"

"Who says I did? Now come, the night is young, still, I hope you brought wine with you in that pack of yours." she said moving away from him.

He looked at the strange woman before following up the hill and to some stones set up as a seating area of sorts. A fire was already burning in the middle of the circle of Weirwood stumps and he wondered how he'd not seen its light or its smoke when they'd landed. Taking some food and the pouch of wine he'd brought with him from his pack, he handed both to the small old woman who accepted them gratefully. So much did she seem to be enjoying the wine that when she offered it back to him, he shook his head and watched as she drank the rest of it.

"A song, boy, sing me a song." the old woman said and Jon chuckled.

"I can't sing, my lady." he said, shaking his head and she laughed.

"I've not been a lady in many a year, but sing you can for was not your father a bard himself."

He looked at her confused, never had he heard his father named as such, and was he thinking more clearly, then he may have asked her how she knew his father. Instead, he for some reason began to sign.

High in the halls of the kings who are gone

Jenny would dance with her ghosts

The ones she had lost and the ones she had found

And the ones who had loved her the most

The ones who'd been gone for so very long

She couldn't remember their names

They spun her around on the damp old stones

Spun away all her sorrow and pain

And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

They danced through the day

And into the night through the snow that swept through the hall

From winter to summer then winter again

'Til the walls did crumble and fall

And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

High in the halls of the kings who are gone

Jenny would dance with her ghosts

The ones she had lost and the ones she had found

And the ones

Who had loved her the most

He heard the sniffles of the old woman and he looked to see her wiping the tears from her eyes. Why he had sung or why he had sung that particular song, was beyond him. Yet as the old woman looked at him, her eyes still glistening from the tears that had fallen, she wore a smile that was as true as any he'd ever seen before. Rarely if ever had seen such a peaceful look on someone's face as he did right then and as he was about to speak, she did.

"Just like your father, you are. Never have I heard the song sung so well. My Jenny thanks you, young dragon. Though this is not the song you're supposed to sing." she said and before he knew it she was standing in front of him and he felt the powder as she blew it into his eyes.

As he drifted off to sleep, he thought he heard her speak and tried to make out the words.

"Song of Ice. Song of Fire. It's time for your song to be sung."

He was in a desert of sorts, the sand blowing in his eyes, and then it was gone and he could see. Ahead of him lay a tower and there were some men and horses in front of it and Jon found himself running to see who they were and to hear what they said.

"I looked for you on the Trident," His father said to three men in white cloaks who stood outside the tower.

"We were not there," Ser Gerold Hightower answered.

"Woe to the Usurper if we had been," said Ser Oswell Whent.

"When King's Landing fell, Ser Jaime slew your king with a golden sword, and I wondered where you were."

"Far away," Ser Gerold said, "or Aerys would yet sit the Iron Throne, and our false brother would burn in seven hells."

"I came down on Storm's End to lift the siege," His father told them, and the Lords Tyrell and Redwyne dipped their banners, and all their knights bent the knee to pledge us fealty. I was certain you would be among them."

"Our knees do not bend easily," said Ser Arthur Dayne.

"Ser Willem Darry is fled to Dragonstone, with your queen and Prince Viserys. I thought you might have sailed with him."

"Ser Willem is a good man and true," said Ser Oswell.

"But not of the Kingsguard," Ser Gerold pointed out.

"The Kingsguard does not flee." "Then or now," said Ser Arthur. He donned his helm.

"We swore a vow," explained old Ser Gerold. His uncle's companions moved up beside him, with shadow swords in hand. They were now seven against three.

"And now it begins," said Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. He unsheathed Dawn and held it with both hands. The blade was pale as milkglass, alive with light.

"No," His uncle said with sadness in his voice. "Now it ends."

Seven fought three until one against two remained. Ser Arthur Dayne was facing off against his father and the match was as uneven as any he'd ever seen before. It was not his father's blade that struck down the Sword of the Morning. The dubious honor of ending the greatest knight that ever lived instead fell to the small Crannogman who backstabbed him.

"I would not be here were it not for Howland Reed." his father's voice called out in the ether.

Jon hurried after his father as he ran up the steps and as he made his way into the Tower, the screams of the woman made him take them two at a time. Entering the room he saw the bloodstains on the sheets that covered the woman, the pained look in her eyes that brightened upon seeing his father and he knew as he'd known before, that this woman was his aunt Lyanna. Her statue didn't even come close to capturing how she looked and he felt as if he was staring at his sister and not his aunt as his father moved to the bed. Arya was his aunt reborn, people had said over the years, and looking at her he could now see why that was so.

"Ned?" his aunt asked softly.

"Lyanna."

"Is that you? Is that really you?" You're not a dream?" her voice hopeful.

"No, I'm not a dream. I'm here. Right here." his father replied.

"I missed you, big brother."

"I missed you, too."

"I want to be brave."

"Shh, you are.

"I'm not. I don't want to die."

"You're not going to die. Get her some Water!" his father cried out.

"No, no water. "

"Is there a Maester?"

"Please. Listen to me, Ned." his aunt said grabbing his father's hand "If Robert finds out he'll kill him, you know he will. You have to protect him. Promise me, Ned, Promise me."

He looked at the baby in the crib at the same time that his father did, the thoughts whirling around his mind and as he moved to the crib he heard his aunt call out, not to his father but to him.

"Promise me, Promise me."

Torn between the crib and the bed, Jon moved to the bed and looked down at the woman lying there. Her eyes were unfocused and then they seemed to become clear as she smiled up at him and as his father moved slightly towards the crib, Jon heard her speak softly.

"My son." she said looking directly at him "His name…His name is…"

Jon woke up curled up against the Green Dragon's scales. Jumping to his feet he moved away before he felt the contents of his stomach emptying as he threw up on the grass. He looked around and then ran to the top of the hill, hoping and praying that the old woman was still there, only to find she was not. Through tear-filled eyes, he looked around to see if there was any sign that it had been a dream, that it was all one terrible dream and yet he could see embers of the fire in the middle of the hill and the stones that he'd sat on. To one side lay his empty pouch, the wine had been drunk and his pack still lay by the stone he'd sat on.

"It can't….I'm not….he wouldn't…."

The words were jumbled and the cry he let out was an agonized one as he fell to his knees. All his life he'd believed the words his father….his uncle had told him. All of it was a lie, from his killing of Ser Arthur Dayne to naming him as his bastard. He almost laughed at the thoughts that he'd actually believed it had been his mother who bore the blood of the dragon, that it was through her that he had been able to bond with Rhaegal when it had been his father all along.

"Rhaegar." he said as he felt the bile rise in his mouth and he threw up again, he was a child born of rape, as if being a bastard had not been enough of a stain to bear.

"Not rape, love." The voice said in his head and he looked behind him to see Rhaegal staring at him, the dragon's bronze eyes staring deep into his own.

"How could you know? How could anyone know?" he shouted to the dragon, to no one, to himself and the world.

"You know. A dragon knows."

He climbed up onto Rhaegal's back. Answers! he needed answers and he wanted so very much to believe that the Green Dragon was right. His fa…uncle had never spoken of Rhaegar Targaryen as harshly as others had, something that Jon now wondered about. As he did the other things that Ned Stark would say to him from time to time. His uncle's way with words was now something that he pondered on.

"You may not have my name, but you have my blood?"

"The finest knight I ever saw was Ser Arthur Dayne, who fought with a blade called Dawn, forged from the heart of a fallen star. They called him the Sword of the Morning, and he would have killed me but for Howland Reed."

"The next time we see each other, we'll speak about your mother, hmmm."

Half-truths so that his uncle didn't besmirch his precious honor. Lies in all but name and as he gripped the horn in front of him tightly, he felt his anger begin to rise. He'd not been the only one that had been lied to, his cou…his brother and sisters had been lied to as well, as had Lady Stark and he wondered if the truth had been known to them, would things have been different. Would he have been treated differently by Robb and Sansa, by Arya and Bran? Would Rickon have still named him a brother had he known? Would he still?

How would Lady Stark have been with him were she to know the truth? Would it have made a difference or would she have hated him just as much? Would she have simply found another reason to despise his presence and wish him gone from her sight? Yet more than even those thoughts it was thoughts of his fa…uncle, of the man he'd believed to be his father and whose honor he now questioned that Jon found himself concentrating on. Why hadn't he told him? Why couldn't he have let him know the truth? What did he fear he'd do with such knowledge? How could he not tell him that his mother was buried mere yards from where he slept?

The last thought soon had him willing Rhaegal to fly faster. His mother's bones lay in the Crypts, her statue was there and though for years he'd dreamt terrible dreams of that place, it was where he needed to go. To his brother and to the crypts, to his family, and to the truth.

They landed in the Wolfswood and how he had resisted the urge to not land outside the gates, he knew not. A part of him wished to shout it out as loudly as he could, to tell the world the truth of who he was and landing on a dragon in front of the gates of Winterfell would more than achieve that. It was Rhaegal who told him that he wasn't ready for such, that now was not the time. The Green Dragon knew almost instinctively that Jon still had to process and deal with the revelation himself before he was ready to deal with how others would react to the news.

"Ipradagon, ēdrugon, kesan ūndegon ao aderī. Kirimvose, ñuha raqiros." (Eat, sleep, I will see you soon. Thank you, my friend.) he said as he stroked the Green Dragon's head, Rhaagal looking at him with those eyes that seemed to understand so very much and trilling under his touch "Kesi sōvegon hēnkirī arlī aderī, nyke kivio." (We will fly together again soon, I promise.).

He looked on as the Green Dragon flew towards the coast, eager for a whale or something else that would be enough to fill his belly. Jon felt it though as he went, the link between them was as strong as if he was still stroking Rhaegal's head and it calmed his fury a little, though not by much. The day had dawned by the time Rhaegal had left him and as he walked to the Keep, he was surprised by just how far away from it the Green Dragon had landed. It took him hours to reach it and the anger he felt had been joined by a multitude of other emotions. Sadness, regret, worry and concern, and a slight bit of fear too.

What it was he was fearful of, he wasn't sure, but it was there all the same. When he reached the outskirts of the ground of Winterfell, he did his best to fight down all these emotions and nodded to the guards as he made his way in through the gates. He barely heard their surprise and shock at his return and had it not been for the loud booming voice of Tormund Giantsbane, then he'd not have noticed that the Free Folk seemed to be in the middle of packing up their things and readying to leave.

"My little crow." Tormund shouted out happily and Jon wished for nothing more than to greet him as friendly as he was being greeted, but the sight of Free Folk families packing their things had taken precedence for now.

"What the fuck is going on, Tormund?" he asked, as Tormund glared at him before noticing where he'd been looking.

"The Free Folk aren't welcome here any longer, Jon. Those fuckers from the Vale wish us gone and my people won't stay where they're not wanted."

"This is the North, Tormund, not the fucking Vale. If they want you gone then they can go fuck themselves. I invited you here, I want you to stay. Tell your people that they have a home here for as long as they wish it. Tell them that they bled with me. Tell them that the North and Jon Snow Remembers." he said to a slap on the back from Tormund.

"It's good you've returned King Crow." Tormund said, smiling broadly as he moved to speak to the Free Folk who'd by now had noticed his arrival as well.

It took him no time at all to find out a meeting had been called and was in the process of being held. Jon looked to the crypts and then to the window of his brother's room and sighed as he instead made his way to the Great Hall where said meeting was taking place. As he entered he was immediately met by Ghost who licked his hand and it took a few moments for those there to notice his arrival. During that time he'd heard enough to bring his temper to the boil as mentions of a marriage between Lyanna Mormont and Robin Arryn and talk of the Free Folk being made to leave had reached his ears.

"Perhaps we can ask the King's Regent his thoughts." Sansa said, looking almost relieved to see him there.

"Lord Snow." Littlefinger coughed looking anything but.

"Jon." Davos said smiling at him and Jon looked to see that the Lords of the North seemed most pleased to see him, while those from the Vale did not.

"What have I missed?" he asked, almost growling and then he listened to all the voices rising at once to speak to him, Jon closing his eyes before opening them again and then speaking loudly.

"Enough! One voice and one voice only. Sansa, would you care to explain the reasons for this meeting?" he asked and saw Sansa take a breath before she went on to tell him what had been going on.

Apparently, with Rickon unable to perform his duties as King and him not being here, Sansa had been put in charge. Whether that was by her own maneuvering or not, he couldn't quite be sure. Given how the Lords and Ladies of the North looked at Littlefinger and the Knights of the Vale, and how Arya glared at Sansa, he'd say they'd played a part. The Vale now had a voice in the Northern Council which did not sit well with the North and a match between Lyanna Mormont and Robin Arryn was being discussed, something the lady was not best pleased about. When Sansa got to the part about the Free Folk being sent away and that the Knights of the Vale wished it so, Jon had enough.

"NO!." he said loudly before he moved to the High Table, a nod to Lyanna Mormont as he did so "There will be no wedding alliance between Lady Lyanna and Lord Robert." he said before Littlefinger interrupted.

"Lord Snow, such a match would be most beneficial and would…."

"Is there a part of the word no that you don't understand, Lord Baelish?" he said glaring at the man and seeing the smirk on Lyanna's face when he turned to look at her "As for the Free Folk, whose bright idea was it to send them away?" he asked looking to Sansa only for Lord Royce to speak up.

"The Knights of the Vale won't ride with savages, Lord Snow." Yohn said and Jon nodded.

"Then the Knights of the Vale can go fuck themselves, Lord Royce. I've just come from King's Landing, my lords, my ladies. The South has been called to kneel to Her Grace Queen Daenerys, the Lannister army is no more and the war in the South is over. Word has been sent to Lord Arryn to come and bend the knee, that is not a request, my lord, not a suggestion, it's a bloody order. Soon enough the Vale will have knelt or been brought to its knees if it's stupid enough to think it more capable of facing dragons than Cersei Lannister was. Her grace has agreed to live up to her agreement with our king to bring her armies and allies to the North to deal with the threat we all face."

"I've not knelt." Lord Royce spat.

"Then feel free to take your knights and ride and should you do so then know this. I promised her grace to help her win the war in the South, should you make me need to fight one more battle there then when next I face you, It'll end in your death. Do not test me on this, Lord Royce, for you'll find that I too can be a savage when provoked." he said and he heard the chuckles of the Northman and women present "Now, by all means, if you wish to leave, leave, I'll not stop you, no one will. But I will name you craven for doing so."

He turned to those in the room, not bothering to see how his words had been received by Lord Royce. Looking to them, he could see that most had been pleased by what he'd said, those from the North especially so, and that Tormund had arrived with some of the Free Folk who it seemed had heard every single word he'd uttered.

"The Free Folk fought side by side with us at the Battle of the Bastards, they bled with me, mourned with me and they better than any know what it is we are to face. Lord Stark used to say we find our true friends on the battlefield, I name them as mine and your true friends. The Knights of the Vale rode to our aid and we are most welcome that they did so. But this is the North, not the Vale, something which in my absence seems to have been forgotten. That ends now. I bid our friends from the Vale good fortune in the wars to come should they decide to leave and more so should they stay. I swore an oath to Her Grace Queen Daenerys that I would help her win both those wars and I keep to my oaths." he said loudly only for Littlefinger to decide then was the time to speak.

"Do you, Lord Snow? Did you not swear an oath to the Night's Watch too?"

"Aye, I did and then my watch was ended." he said looking around the room "Some of you have heard tale of me. Those who were there at the Wall, such as Ser Davos and Tormund have no doubt spoken of it. I was betrayed by men I'd named as brothers for doing what was right. Men who stabbed me rather than face the truth of what was to come. My heart stopped beating and I was as dead as dead can be and yet I stand here in front of you all, ready to do the right thing once more." he said as he moved to stand in front of Littlefinger and Lord Royce.

The gambeson came off first and then he pulled his shirt from his britches before pulling it over his head. Jon felt the cool air on his chest and heard the gasps of those in the room as they finally saw the wounds he bore. He turned in a complete circle so that each person there could see and saw the tears in both his sisters' eyes as the truth was finally revealed to them and to others. Then grabbing his shirt and gambeson, he walked from the Great Hall and made his way to his brother's room. It was only when he reached it that he redressed himself and as he nodded to the guards and entered, he saw Rickon laying there. His brother looked as if he was sleeping peacefully and Jon brushed his hand over Rickon's forehead before leaning down and placing a kiss upon it.

"Wake up, brother. For there is much we must speak about and I miss you so." he said softly before turning to walk from the room.

He and Ghost walked past the guards, the Lords, and Ladies of the North, and the Knights of the Vale who'd left the Great Hall and perhaps had come in search of him. Walking into the crypts he heard the voices he'd heard for most of his life, the whispered words no longer causing him to fear them as once he had.

"Out"

"You don't belong here.

"You are not a Stark."

The Kings of Winter held no power over him any longer, for he too had the blood of kings in his veins. Blood that came from both sides of his parents and as he passed his grandfather's and both his uncles' statues, he looked at none of them. Instead, it was the statue of the woman that he found himself standing in front of and he looked at it through tear-filled eyes. This was the woman he'd sought for all his life, the woman he'd wished to know about since he was old enough to wish for anything at all. She'd been denied to him by his uncle and he hated him for that, yet now was not a time for hate and so instead it was love that his heart led with.

"I wish I'd known." he said softly as he looked at the face of the woman who'd brought him into the world "I wish I'd known you."

He stood facing the statue for hours. Speaking to his mother in his head and telling her the things he'd longed to tell her for so very long. Words he'd longed to speak to her, finally were said, and even after doing so, he felt there was so much more he needed to say to her. Had it not been for the sound of the footsteps that moved his way then he'd perhaps have stood there for the rest of the night. Jon turned to see Arya look at him with a worried frown on her face.

"Aunt Lyanna?" She asked, raising an eyebrow and Jon nodded "Are you well, Jon?" she quickly added concernedly.

"Aye."

"I…I didn't know….I…." he felt her arms wrap around him and heard what sounded to be sobbing coming from her as his arms did the same to her, Jon holding her tightly against him as he told her that he was well, that all was well.

He decided it was for the best if they didn't have whatever conversation they were to have in the crypts and so they walked out together. Ghost for some reason stayed behind and was Jon not so keen to offer Arya the comfort she'd sought in coming to him, then he'd have noticed that the white wolf was digging up the ground beneath his mother's statue. Instead, he walked out from the crypts holding his sister's hand in his own and as he closed the door behind him, it was to the sound of Ser Davos calling his name.

"Jon, Jon….It's your brother, Rickon, he's awake." Davos called out and Jon took a deep breath and together with Arya hurried to his brother's room.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next Jon and Rickon speak and spend some time together as brothers. Sansa has an argument with Jon over the North and Davos listens to the fallout from Jon's interruption of the meeting. Littlefinger plots and the Hound reveals some truths while Sansa faces a difficult situation as things come to the head between the Vale and the North.

Daryl Dixon: So glad you liked it.

Supremus: I'd like to see how that played out, but I think the critique would be that you're making them make the same mistakes as canon. Hopefully, this chapter gave some further explanation as to why it had to go down as it did. In regards to Olenna killing Cersei later that kind of seems to be going around the long way to get done what needs to get done. You end up back in the original position Imo, being that you need to take the city, beat Cersei, and do so with as few casualties as possible, and then if anything you come out even more dishonorable because you sneakily kill Cersei off later. The biggest problem with the show's nonsensical plot workings is that they are nonsensical. They make characters act OOC or forget every single lesson they have learned or every experience they have gone through up to that point, in order to get them to do dumb things.

The parley with Cersei was never set up with the expectation that Cersei would join her forces to theirs, it was set up expecting and hoping for her to stand down. This makes no sense as you take Dany's forces which are at 100 percent, Cersei's the same, then send one of those to war while the other rests up, meaning that when they finally face-off, Dany would be weaker than when she started out. Literally, no military commander in the history of the world would agree to such a thing, yet somehow Jon says nothing, nor does anyone else, It's mind-blowingly stupid. As for Bran here he's no ally and doesn't reveal anything for anyone's benefit other than his own. The problem with honor is that it's shown quite clearly what happens in Westeros when people fight honorably. So to expect Jon to do so after his family has been devastated when doing so in the past is to be naïve.

Even with the nonsense, the show threw at us, they show this clearly as they have them believe Cersei's words and accept them only for her then to prove she can't be trusted which is something they should have known in the first place. Robb tried to be honorable, Ned tried to be honorable, both ended up dead because they were not dealing with honorable people. Having Jon do the same thing, would and should lead to the same outcome. It's like the old saying, if you want peace, prepare for war. Well if you want to be honorable, expect dishonorable people to seek to use that against you, especially when you have countless examples of it to call upon.

Suppes; Thanks glad you liked it.

Kingmanena: The Bran aspect of things will be discussed between Jon/Rickon next, as for the Northern and Vale lords, one is almost resolved and the other is soon to be so.

Lawkeeper: Bran can only be a villain in my books, certainly in how the show portrays him. I think GRRM will try and have him be a more heroic figure or maybe even a more villainous one, but he's just such a tool IMO lol. Sam in the show is worse than in the books because he never grows as a character, he starts out as a coward and there in the last fight is still a coward. Now while this is perhaps true to form, it makes him a terrible character IMO. Randyll was right about him lol.

I do take issue with the Jon wanted to go to the Nights Watch thing in that he sees it as his only choice. Ned never gives him a different option. Jon supposedly has been asking to go to the Watch for some time, so technically it's his choice, but his reasoning is that 1. He wants to remove the stain of himself from Ned's Cloak and 2. It's the only option he had.

Ned could simply have gone, No, that's not the life I'd seek for you and provided another option, the fact he didn't to me means that at least on a subconscious level he knew Jon going there solved a lot of problems in regards to who Jon was. That's one of my main issues with Ned, he's an ostrich not a wolf, he buries his head in the sand and hopes things turn out right. This is clear with his children, with the North, and with Jon as he never does anything proactive with any of those things. It's also why when it comes to fics, the idea that Ned would just simply decide another course of action without some outside influence, doesn't ring true. If he was forced to do something, he'll act, but otherwise, he just plods along doing what he does. I was a huge fan of Ned literally until I read the first fic that sent Jon on another path because it showed clearly there were options. Then when you add in that GRRM is so keen to keep his secret and like certain other plot points this retroactively changes perceptions of things, Ned becomes a very flawed character. Betrothing Sansa to Joff suddenly becomes a much different thing, once you realize who Jon is. As does sending the raven to Stannis. Allowing Jon to go to the Watch, allowing him to think himself lesser and making no arrangements for him whatsoever.

Literally, unless the promise he made to Lyanna was that he'd never allow Jon anywhere near the Iron Throne because Rhaegar was a rapist, kidnapper., it's very hard not to see Ned in a negative light for me now. Now I can accept that others still like him and as a writer, I will be trying to both show him with that bias in mind and in a more positive light in other stories. But one thing I do believe wholeheartedly is this. The longer it takes for Jon to find out the truth about himself, the worst Ned comes out of it in Jon's eyes. This idea that he'll find out the truth and love Ned as much as he did and still think him a father, completely ignores human nature. It works on the same premise as an adopted child finding out that they are adopted and ignores the truth that Ned lied to him, withheld his mother's name, and the fact she was buried a few feet from where he grew up from him.

Jon before going to the Watch being told the truth would be pissed but there is so much room to make up and deal with it and Ned being alive would be able to explain it. Jon after Ned dying and he'd sworn his oaths, that would be bad. Jon after being killed at Castle Black and resurrected, Ned would be thankful he's dead, IMO. Not that I'm trying to change your mind regarding him, just explaining my own thoughts and why he may be portrayed in certain ways in different settings.

J: I think the reason you get so many show based is that you have those certain events that take place such as the Battle of the Bastards etc. My own pet peeve is somewhat similar to yours regarding events not being changed, in that I really dislike fics that introduce a changed element early and then follow canon almost entirely. Jon going South with Robb still leading to a Red Wedding or Ned being smarter and yet still losing his head for example.

The show did so many dumb things, that I like to pop into certain points in the timeline and see how they can be logically changed by an element that I introduce. Here Leilani came up with the premise and we're seeing the difference play out which is something I really enjoy, the ripple effect. But to do that you almost have to accept the stream is already there and this is what you have to work with. You bring up the Winter King and the thing is that so many stories just have Robb and Jon pretty much ignore this huge change in their relationship or have Jon just give up the North as if he's Bran in Season 8 and that to me is not only dull and boring but is it truly likely?

Robb was reluctant to be crowned, somewhat, in that he accepts it because he feels he needs to. But he does grow to enjoy being king and so it becomes who he thinks of himself as. To simply give that up is no easy feat, especially to a brother who despite the love he had for him, he always saw as beneath him in terms of status (rightfully so given how they were brought up). Pride plays a part in things, as does the difficulty in dealing with a sibling outshining you which at the best of times can create issues, when that sibling is considered lesser because of their status, even more so. I wished to play on that, to bring up the childhood argument they had when Jon said he was Lord of Winterfell in their spar and Robb said he could never be, which showed even then he knew the difference between them. If you were the golden child of your family, the one that everyone looked to and deferred to and spoke highly of, and then suddenly it was your brother, you'd feel put out and act accordingly. With Robb in WK it was this on a larger scale. He also had people whispering in his ear too, so it took time to come around and by the time he did, well, we are where we are. I think I've said enough about that fic here though lol.

I agree completely about the Umber thing, it was a piss poor attempt to do the Whorsebane/Crowdood plot, and that they used the Smalljon only makes it even worse. It would have made sense to make it Mors who did it given his feelings toward the wildlings and the book readers would have gotten the references. I uploaded a new HSH chapter the other day, updates should be more regular now.

Creativo: Oh, puede que pronto lo vea de esa manera también.

Celexys: Glad you liked the warging. Jon is no longer dancing around a certain subject, Rhaegal, Dany and his parents are all coming to the fore so we'll be seeing more of his thoughts on all 3. I'm so not a Sam fan but we had planned something else for him here, then decided to go this route. Rickon was lucky and why Viserion did as he did is soon to be explained.

Tommiboy: I do love self-fulfilling prophecies and yes Bran's acts have led to an outcome he really didn't wish for. Having Rickon hear Glover's words was just a side benefit. We had beaten around the bush with Jon/Dany long enough, so yep they both realize how they feel and others around them see the benefits of it. Had Sam lived then he'd have perhaps played a similar role to canon, only the effects would be different, here his death allows for something else.

Lady Octarina: And yet Viserion is not an Asshole, which makes you think why he acted this way, hmmm lol. You may love what's to come with Rickon/Bran then even more. Luckily for Rickon, Jon is now there for him when he wakes. We'll be seeing more of Howland. I was torn between Warg what is it good for and the Lou Reed and went with Lou lol. Ghost is always the best boy and soon to have a sister by his side too. The Jonerys will be getting much deeper in a chapter or two and the reveal to the world of Jon and Rhaegal is soon too.

Wrysenseofhumour: Some people think they have to shock people with the writing or the so-called dreaded subvert expectations crap, when for me it makes more sense that characters act and behave how has been established or are given a reason as to why they don't. Same with plots, you can offer up some surprises, but if someone adds up all the clues and figures out where you may be going, that's a plus for them rather than a minus for you as far as I'm concerned. We knew what was to happen in LOTR, we could predict it, there are surprises and moments along the way, but if we got to the end and it's Merry with the Ring because expectations are subverted, that doesn't make things better only worse.

BookJon is a misunderstood character and I think you've nailed him perfectly in your take. He may not seek things, but he doesn't go out of his way to not accept the recognition. It makes sense that he'd not seek WF with his siblings alive, it doesn't make sense that he'd not seek a crown if it was his birthright, that's a big mistake people don't get.

My co-writer said that she likes to believe that animals communication is as our own, just we can't hear them and so we went with that idea. All animals speak, but only a few (wargs) can hear them and communicate back with them. One other key aspect is the opening of the doors, if they let you in, then there is some back and forth, but a warg can force themselves and subjugate their will. Remind you of anyone? As you see the Hawk forced Rickon out which again should be a clue to something. Why it was Viserion is soon to be explained.

I always find it funny when I think of Ned's words to Jon and how they're a show-only thing. If ever there was an early example that they were morons, that is it. It's there for that reason as you say, but the problem is that in retrospect and knowing that Jon is who he is, that then makes Ned look like a dick and makes the reasoning for Ned not telling him, questionable at best. They never got that, they looked at it simply from the side, which shows they didn't pay attention and played it out in their heads. It's funny too that few characters really come across better in the show, Davos I think is another and it makes you glad that they didn't have certain characters in it to ruin too. I think GRRM will change certain fates, and obviously, the context of things will be far different, but the endings I think will be the same. Just how we get there may make more sense. Of course, if he finishes it at all.

Anyway, Jon/Dany will be much closer when she arrives in the North, very much closer.

The Lion's Pride: We wanted to introduce Howland and yes we have a reasoning as to why he's not been seen in so long, a plot reason so to speak.

That's a good analysis of Bran and he is getting a pov next chapter, the big issue with him is kind of the LF/Varys issue. Where he can reveal too much so you need to decide when to show his pov and almost have others interpret his actions before showing the truth of them. But it is coming and more of what he's up to is to be revealed soon.
The fact there is a lack of repercussion with Rickon's recovery should tell you a little, and yes once again is there for a reason to be explained in a later pov.

Glover is just that, it makes no sense that he wasn't dealt with in the show (another dropped plot point) Jon would have gone to him after the battle at WF and taken his head, he'd have had to as you can't leave him in place after the second betrayal. With the Warging and how the animals speak, it's only in regards to the warg and Jon speaking to Rhaegal for example is because he is a warg too, hence why Dany can't hear Drogon.

In regards to the bolded stuff, you are right it's a direct intervention, and this first sign of such. We will be delving more into the magic of the gods and their own plans and things from here on and some lore aspects that may be interesting. It'll be the same with the TER and the explanations we have lined up in regards to their power and why they have it etc. As for Bran specifically, the mere fact he doesn't do all you say, should again be a key. But more of that will be clear in his pov.

Sansa I think is somewhat similar to Ned in some respects in that she'll act only when literally forced to. Because of her time in the south, she believes their way is the right way and needs to for lack of a better way of putting it, be more Northern. She believes to beat LF you need to play and well the truth is that Cersei showed how to beat LF. Power is Power and LF has little of it when you truly get down to it, especially while he's in the North. Allowing the Vale a role shows again the politician working rather than the leader. Which is something we've been trying to have her adapt to and yet takes time. She will be acting soon though.

The Tyrion as Hand and the Jon NW thing I hope you like seeing addressed here. We'll be getting a Jaime pov in a bit and see what he's thinking about. You raise an interesting point in regards to Jon and the FM, something that Jon kind of hinted at in his pov when he considered why the FM attacked him in the last chapter, if you pull more on that thread you may figure it out before the next one as it will be brought up either then or in Jon's upcoming conversation with Arya.

So glad you liked it.