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

12. A King,Queen and Prince Who Was Promised

A/N: There is some crossover in the Sansa/Arya povs, Sansa is traumatized after what has happened and so doesn't see things as clearly as Arya does, which is why they may seem not to match up.

Winterfell 303 AC.

Sansa Stark.

Sansa's hold on her brother was so strong that she could feel her arms begin to hurt, her eyes closed as they flew over the land. Ever since she'd seen the Moon Door in the Eyrie open up before her and had watched her aunt Lysa plummet to her death, Sansa nursed a secret fear of heights. Yet she found it wasn't the flight North that made her fearful, nor the fact that she was sitting on the back of a fire-breathing dragon.

She was afraid this was all a dream. That she hadn't managed to get away from Littlefinger and that Jon had never come for her. Sansa feared that the warmth of the body she felt against her despite the cold, was a lie, and so something she didn't want to think about. How could it be real? How could Jon be riding on a dragon by himself? Why would he wish her with him after all she'd said and done?

"We're almost home, Sansa," she heard Jon say and her hold on him tightened as she prayed it was true and not just her mind playing her tricks.

Her heart beat faster in her chest when she felt the dragon descend and as they finally landed, she didn't realize she was sobbing until Jon mentioned it.

"Stop crying, sister. You're safe, now. You've done what's needed to be done and soon we'll get you home where everyone's waiting for you." Jon said softly, comfortingly.

She then sobbed harder. Now she knew it was all a dream and so she wished she would never wake up from it. Her family hated her; Jon had made clear in their last conversation that they didn't consider her as part of their pack.

"Sansa. Look at me," Jon said firmly and she shook her head, refusing to allow the dream to end yet. "You have nothing to fear from me, you know that?"

She nodded and finally complied, gasping as her teary eyes locked with the worried ones of her brother.

"You came… You really came for me…" she whispered before falling into his embrace. "So everything… Littlefinger… I did it? I really did it?"

"Yes, sister. You did it."

"How did you find me? How did you know…"

"The Hound. I'm ashamed to say that I thought you were gone when he came to me, but I guess he knows you better than we do. He was convinced that you wouldn't leave us, especially not with Littlefinger."

"You really thought I would choose them over you?" she said, hurt.

"I'm sorry, truly. With our last conversation and the ultimatum I gave you, I thought… Then we realized your clothes were still in your rooms and when the Hound told us that Littlefinger had set off in a different direction than the Lords of the Vale, we immediately feared the worst. So I went to Rhaegal and sought you out."

"Rhaegal… The dragon?" she said and he nodded. "How did you… That's how you managed to arrive so quickly from the South! By the Gods… We really flew on a dragon? How did you do it?" she asked the words stumbling from her mouth.

She could see Jon tense and feared that she had said something she shouldn't have. Had Daenerys gifted him to him? Were they lovers?

"I promise I will explain everything about Rhaegal later, but for now, I would like you to keep his presence secret to anyone who isn't part of our family. Can you do this for me?" he asked and Sansa nodded.

"Where are we?" she asked a moment later.

"The Wolfswood. We'll have to walk a little to get to Winterfell. Do you feel you can do it?"

"I…" Jon's laugh startled her and she frowned in confusion as she saw a horse trotting to them. "How?"

The horse came to her and seemed to look at her with unveiled interest, making her turn away slightly scared.

"She is fine, Brother. Thank you for sending us help." Jon said, confusing her further.

"Brother?" she asked.

"There are a lot of things we need to talk about, but let us go home first, shall we?"

She watched as Jon talked to the dragon, who seemed happy judging by the sound he let out, and then they both mounted the horse to take her home, where she hoped her family would not shun her.

Rickon and Arya were near the stables, as was Ser Davos when they arrived, and Sansa tensed, feeling self-conscious when they approached. Jon had ordered Lyn Corbray to give her his coat so she could cover herself, but she could still feel the blood on her and she briefly wondered what she would look like to her family. Though this wondering was soon gone and she was surprised and deeply touched when Rickon ran to her to embrace her wholeheartedly.

"You look like shit," he said, holding her tight and she lost it at that moment.

Was she laughing? Crying? She couldn't tell. Her emotions were overwhelming and the only thing she cared about was the feeling of Rickon's arms around her. She watched Arya carefully walk over to them as if Sansa was a dangerous animal about to snap or a frightened one about to bolt, and she wanted so much to tell her sister that she would never hurt her, but she was unable to utter anything but sobs.

She felt Jon behind her shielding her and she finally crumbled, letting him lift her in his arms and clutching onto him while Rickon and Arya followed silently. Now she was sure she was crying hysterically, unleashing all her fears about what could have happened to her and her relief to just be with her brothers and sister once more. She heard Davos speaking about sending Maester Wolkan to see to her needs and Jon agreeing to it. She then heard Rickon's voice telling her that she was safe, but it was Arya's voice that brought her back to reality when she ordered her brothers to leave them alone. Panic set into her heart and she pleaded with them not to leave, only for Arya to put her hand on her cheek.

"They will be back. You are covered in blood Sansa. We need to clean you up before the Maester arrives. Here, let me..."

She felt the cold damp tissue brush her face and did not move as Arya proceeded to clean her face. She couldn't remember the last time her sister looked at her with the concern she was now showing while removing the blood staining her skin.

"It is not my blood…" she managed to say.

"I figured. Littlefinger's?" Arya asked softly and she nodded. "Did he… Hurt you?"

"He did not have time." she said relievedly.

"Good." Arya said leaving no room for doubt that she meant it truly.

Sansa said nothing more, not wanting to imagine what would have happened if she hadn't been trained by her sister. She was sure Jon could have dealt with Littlefinger by himself or with the Dragon, but by the time he'd arrived, Littlefinger would have had his way with her. She was about to thank her when she noticed they were not in her room.

"I…can you take me to my room, I…"

"Aye, I'll take you." Arya replied, her soft smile warming Sansa's heart, which almost burst out with joy when she saw Jon and Rickon outside waiting for them when they left the room.

She was home. She was with her family and they did not seem to hate her. That to her was more than she felt she deserved, but she would take it even if it only lasted a day. The feeling of belonging was something she knew she had longed for, though it was even stronger than she'd ever expected it to be. It made her almost feel complete in a way that she'd not ever known before, a way that she hoped was not to be just fleeting and was in fact here to stay.

King's Landing 303 AC.

Dany.

The Great and the Good had been called to attend her coronation; ravens had been sent out in her name and others in the name of her Hand. Varys had made his own requests and demands as well. Words had been sent that were far less direct than she would have wished and yet perhaps more needed given how they'd worked. All but two of the so-called Seven Kingdoms had answered, The Vale and the North not sending any representatives and Dany found she only wished that one of them was here. No that wasn't true, she wished the Vale had come and accepted the words she'd sent them, but she wanted the North to be here, she wanted Jon to be here.

Ever since Olenna and Varys had told her the truth of who Jon was, she'd wanted to see him, to speak to him, and to see if he still looked at her as he had. They had left things between them unsaid and undone and she wondered now if this would change how he felt about her. It didn't change how she felt about him, far from it. Olenna had been right when she'd named Jon as the best choice for a husband and that was before she'd found out who he truly was and before Olenna had known about Rhaegal. Now she felt her very blood call out to him and she hoped that his own called out to her just as keenly.

"You look incredible, my Queen." Missandei said and Dany turned to look at herself in the looking glass.

The dress was pure white and for a moment she saw an image of another ceremony playing out in her head. She looked down to see the outlines of the dragons, the three-headed sigil of her house, and felt how soft the silk was against her skin. With a nod to Missandei, she turned and they walked to the door, Grey Worm, Qhono, and Ser Jorah standing there waiting for her.

"Khaleesi." Qhono said breathlessly as he looked at her and had she any doubt of how she looked, it would be gone now.

"My queen." Grey Worm said wearing the closest thing to a smile she was like to see on his face this day.

Jorah was speechless, Dany noticing what looked to be tears in his eyes as he took in the sight of her and it took him a moment or two to speak.

"Khaleesi, you look like a vision from the very gods themselves." he said as she thanked him and then they began to move through the Red Keep.

Olenna and Varys waited for them near the carriages and it was the older woman who walked to her, the smile she wore on her face a true one, Dany felt.

"You look every inch a queen, your grace. People will speak of this day for years to come." Olenna said.

"All is prepared for later?" she asked and Olenna nodded as Dany then climbed up onto her silver and was joined on horseback by those closest to her, Olenna and Varys would be taking the carriages instead.

When they'd planned this, it had been suggested that she rode in a carriage, but she'd shot down that idea. Queen of the South she may be, but she was and had been a Khalessi for longer than anything else and so she would be seen as such. Around her rode more than two hundred of her Khalasar and the same number of her Unsullied marched. She led the way with her silver, with Jorah and Grey Worm to one side and Qhono at her rear, Missandei riding just a little behind her.

As they rode through the city she heard chants of Dragon Queen and Silver Princess and heard her mother's name being called out alongside her brothers and her own. Looking at the smiling faces of the people as she passed them by, she wondered how much of their joy was truly for her and how much was because Cersei Lannister was no more. If it was half and half then she'd accept it, because she knew she'd make it so it was far less about the lioness in time. Upon reaching the remnants of the Great Sept, the full extent of the damage that had been done here was made apparent and Dany found her eyes drawn back to the carriage that Olenna was riding in. She'd refused to do this here at first, knowing how much pain this place had caused her Hand, and yet Olenna had insisted.

"Hail to Queen Daenerys."

"Long Live the Silver Princess."

"Rhaella's Daughter."

"The Dragons have returned."

She had to admit hearing the words being shouted did make her pride flare up a little. Illyrio may have lied to them all those years ago, people may not have been toasting their name or sewing their banners in secret, but now they'd be doing at least one of those things. Dismounting off the horse as easily as if she was wearing her riding apparel and not a long flowing white dress, she waited for the signal from Ser Jorah and then made her way up the steps that were left, and to the wide-open space that had once been the Great Sept.

Standing waiting for her was the High Septon and as she walked up the steps, to her left and right stood the Lords and Ladies who'd come to pledge their fealty and those who were already here. Yara stood with Theon, both of them looking at her and seeming pleased to be there. Tyrion stood with a man she knew not, the smile he wore on his face a forced one she felt. There were lords from the Reach, from the Westerlands, Edmure Tully had come as had some of the Riverlords and the newly named Aurane Velaryon stood to one side in his ridiculous hat. Dany smiled at Lady Ellaria and Tyene, the Sand Snake, had been joined by her sister Sarella who was soon to be named the Princess of Dorne. As she reached the top of the steps she turned and was soon joined by the rest of her party, Missandei now standing with Olenna and Varys, as Qhono moved to his men and Grey Worm to his own. Jorah was the only one who did not, the Lord Commander of her Queensguard taking up his position behind the High Septon, hand on sword just in case.

"My Lords and Ladies, Good Men and Women of Westeros and Beyond, we are here today on this auspicious occasion to Crown a new Queen. A True Queen. For far too long the Iron Throne has been sat by usurpers and those not worthy, today that changes as the family that forged it, now once again takes back their rightful place. Your grace if you would." The High Septon said and Dany knelt down on the cushion that was provided as she saw the Septa step forward holding the crown in her hands.

She looked out to the sea of faces that stared up at her, none seeming put out or unhappy that this day had come, most seeming truly joyful. Her own people most of all.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden Crone, Stranger. In the light of the Seven who are one we do today crown Daenerys Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, The Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm." the High Septon spoke the words as the crown was placed on her head.

There was no actual weight in the crown, the golden bands were bejeweled with tiny rubies and it was so thin that even a babe could lift it easily. Yet she felt the weight of it still. As she looked out upon those present, she felt it truly for the first time. She was now responsible for their well-being, for their safety and given what was coming for them, that was a monumental task to undertake. Closing her eyes she imagined the dark-haired and grey-eyed man by her side, the man who would, she hoped, share that burden, the man she longed to see.

"I give you Her Grace, Queen Daenerys Targaryen, the First of Her Name. Long may she reign."

"Long may she Reign!."

"Long may she Reign!"

"Long may she Reign!."

As she rose to her feet the cheers began and she heard the sounds of clapping, those around her having started it first. Her people, Olenna and Varys, Ellaria and her girls, Yara and Theon, and then the other Lords and Ladies joined in. The sound of the cheers was soon drowned out when Drogon and Viserion flew over her head, her children roaring their own approval and she wondered if somewhere in the North her other child was doing so too. She felt that he was and she hoped that he knew how much she missed him, him, and his rider.

Winterfell 303 AC.

Arya.

She had wanted to believe that Jon was wrong, that her sister had simply done as Arya thought she had. Sansa had finally shown her true colors and left with the Knights of the Vale and Littlefinger because the South was where she truly belonged and wished to be. Her feelings for her sister had been so full of anger and dare she say it, hatred, that she couldn't even grasp the concept that she'd been taken against her will. The mere idea that she hadn't wished to leave in order to regroup and come up with some other way of taking the North for herself, not even entering her mind until it did.

Then her anger had been directed at a much more deserving target. Littlefinger and the Knights of the Vale and only that Jon had made her concerned about Rickon's safety and that she worried that they'd try to harm her brother still, or nothing would have stopped her from going after them and bringing Sansa back home. Instead, it had been left to Jon to do so and she at least took comfort in that. While she feared for both her brothers, in Jon's case she knew he could more than take care of himself. Now even more so if what he'd said about the dragon was true.

How he'd become bonded to the Green Dragon she knew not, though he had promised to tell her upon his return. Something that each passing hour made her even more fearful about. Arya had tried to get Rickon to speak to her about their brother being bonded to a dragon, only for him to shut her down and tell her that it was not his story to tell. It had made her consider going to Bran to ask him, but after all that he'd done since he'd returned, she knew she couldn't trust him to be honest with her and she needed honesty. She needed the truth and for there to be no more secrets between them all, her, Jon, Rickon, and even Sansa, she wanted them to be what they always should have been, what they once were, a pack.

"What's keeping them?" she said as she paced the room.

"Jon will be back soon and Sansa will be with him." Rickon said firmly "Nymeria too." her brother added and Arya smiled knowing he was saying so for her benefit.

"Did she really say she was coming back?" she asked softly.

"Aye, she did, I told her you were more yourself, that you were her Arya once again." Rickon said and this time her smile was even truer.

She was about to say more when she heard the commotion from outside in the halls. Rickon looked to her and she moved quickly to the door to find that the horse that her brother had sent to them had been spotted. So she and Rickon hurried from the room to the stables to be there when Jon and Sansa arrived back. They arrived just in time and the sight of her sister almost stilled her heart. Sansa seemed to be covered in blood and after Rickon had moved to her, Arya did likewise.

"Sansa, who….are you…"

"It's not her blood, Arya." Jon said reassuringly and Arya nodded, not noticing the surprised look her concern had brought to Sansa's face.

"It's not my blood." Sansa said her words almost in a whisper.

Arya's thoughts went to the worst places as Jon helped their sister into the keep and into Rickon's room. She barely heard him ask for water and some clean clothes to be brought, Lyanna Mormont running off to carry out his wishes as he closed the door behind them leaving just Sansa, her, and her brothers in the room.

"You're truly unhurt?" she asked Sansa worriedly when she stopped crying and she saw the small smile and nod that Sansa gave her before Jon helped her to a seat to pour her some water to drink.

The anger she felt as the story was relayed to her only increased and increased, right up until the moment when Jon told them that Sansa had killed Littlefinger herself. Arya reached out her hand to take her sister's and was surprised that Sansa seemed to welcome the touch, her fingers gripping her own tightly as they sat and listened to Jon tell more of what happened and what was likely to occur now that it had.

"You think the fucking Vale will seek to avenge Littlefinger?" she asked angrily.

"I think we must think along those lines, Aye. Though they'll have to go through me and the North to do so." he said looking at Sansa who seemed to appreciate the words.

The knock on the door was answered by Jon as she and Rickon, who'd joined her in holding one of Sansa's hands, both looked their sister over once more. This time Sansa herself told them that she was unharmed and so they accepted her word while Jon took the clothing and the water from Lyanna Mormont and spoke some words that she didn't hear. It was her who helped Sansa wash, Arya finding that she was far more able to clean the blood off her sister than Sansa herself was and she almost chuckled when Jon and Rickon left the room so Sansa could change her clothing.

She was surprised to be asked to stay and then horrified by the scars and marks she saw on Sansa's body as she undressed and redressed. Her sister was too lost in what she was doing to notice how Arya stared and snarled as she thought that the gods were cruel to allow her to suffer so. Ramsay Snow was lucky he was dead and not even knowing how his death had come about made it seem enough to her. Were he still breathing today, then the suffering she'd put him through would go on for moons and each day she'd welcome hearing the screams and pleading he'd make.

"I…can you take me to my room, I…"

"Aye, I'll take you." she said and was once again offered a warm smile, one of the few that she and Sansa had shared over the years.

Both Jon and Rickon walked with them to Sansa's room and she watched as Jon ordered a number of guards to be placed outside them and along the corridor. Her brother took no chances with their sister's safety and then placed a kiss on Sansa's forehead as he bid her goodnight. Rickon was even more effusive, the hug he gave Sansa being one that she welcomed greatly given how tightly she hugged him back. Arya noticed the tears in her sister's eyes when they entered her room and how she wiped them away quickly so that they may go unnoticed.

"I'll stay with you tonight if you wish?" she said as Sansa nodded eagerly.

She pulled a chair to the bed and watched as Sansa lay down under the covers still fully dressed. To her surprise it was facing her that Sansa began to drift off to sleep and not turned away and when Arya reached out her hand, Sansa almost grabbed it and pulled it to her chest.

"Thank you." Sansa said softly.

"It's nothing."

"No….for your help. I did it, what you said, I…I stuck him with the pointy end." Sansa said and as she fell to sleep, Arya felt her own tears fall softly down her cheeks.

Sansa seemed in much better spirits the next morning, her sister was awake even before she was and she thanked her for staying with her the night before, something that Arya simply waved off. Though she was not allowed to, as Sansa much to her shock, embraced her and held her for some time.

"Did you know about the dragon?" Sansa asked softly when she'd let her go.

"Jon mentioned that he and Rhaegal were bonded, but he said no more than that."

"I…we flew here, Arya. He brought me here on the dragon; it was like nothing I've….I'd not believed he'd have come for me." Sansa said and Arya took her hand and looked her in the eye.

"You're part of the pack, Sansa, of course, he'd come for you. As would I or Rickon." she said and Sansa smiled at her.

They ate together, the four of them and she'd not known them all to be so jovial and friendly in many a year. Rickon japed at Jon's expense, Jon told stories that had Sansa laughing and shaking her head and some even had her near tears she laughed so much. When they were finished, Sansa asked if she and Rickon could speak alone and Jon bid her join him in the Crypts for some reason. She briefly saw Rickon look to their brother and then he and Sansa were speaking and she and Jon were walking from the room.

She smirked as they walked into the Crypts, memories of the prank that Jon and Robb had pulled on her and Sansa all those years earlier filling her mind. Her smile though soon left her face as they passed her grandfather, uncle, and father's statues and found themselves standing in front of her aunt's. Seeing Jon place a winter rose in her aunt's outstretched hand was a surprise as was how he looked at the statue itself, her brother seeming to almost be teary-eyed as she stared at their aunt Lyanna.

"All my life I wished more than anything to know who my mother was, to know whether or not she'd loved me, wanted me, and would she have been proud of me." Jon said and as she went to speak his voice grew a little louder "Lord Stark kept that from me, hid that knowledge for me and I find I hate him for it, Arya, gods I don't wish to, but I find I've no love in my heart for him because of that and the lies he made me live."

"Fath…"

"Was who he was and I know in his way he loved me. I know he felt he did the right thing, but he didn't, not even close." Jon said angrily "I may never forgive him for the wrongs he did to me, may never be able to just accept the rights. I know I'll never forgive him for keeping my mother from me, nothing you or anyone will ever be able to say to me will make that change. Lord Stark was not my father, Arya, he was my uncle. My father was Rhaegar Targaryen and my mother was his wife, Lyanna."

Lyanna? Aunt Lyanna? But she'd been…hadn't she? Jon wasn't father's son, he wasn't her brother, he was her cousin, her cousin who wasn't a Snow or a Stark, but a Targaryen, this couldn't be right, this couldn't be true.

"You're not…" she said, unable to finish the sentence.

"I'm your brother, I've always been your brother. Look at me, little sister." Jon said as he turned her to face him "I am your brother."

"Jon." she said as she felt his arms wrap around her, the smell of him was the same as it had always been, the feel of him as he held her tightly, just as comforting as it had always been. His words were as true as they had always been: "You're my brother, you've always been my brother and you always will be my brother." she said firmly as she felt him relax but not let her go for some time.

King's Landing 303 AC.

Varys.

Watching the queen's coronation was a special experience for him. Rarely had he felt so enthused by such a thing and that it had taken so many different crownings in his lifetime to finally get to the right one, was no fault of his. Had things worked out as he'd wished, then it would have been Rhaegar himself and not his sister that Varys was witnessing being crowned and yet he hoped in time to see that wrong righted too. He hadn't been able to see the father take his rightful place, in time he'd see the son do so and that place was by the queen's side. Something he found himself ever more excited to see come to fruition.

To serve a good king and queen, to see the realm prosper and the people finally get their due, he would happily go to whatever heaven or hell awaited him once he'd seen that done. To that end, as he made his way back to the Red Keep, he was quickly joined by one of his little birds. The song was placed in his hand and he read it eagerly. The ship had set sail and would arrive on the morrow, the woman was on board and eager and Varys almost smiled at that. He hoped she'd be eager to speak to them about what had happened all those years ago, to fill in some of the blanks at least.

Arriving at the Red Keep, he made his way to the Queen's Chambers at her behest and was happy to hear the words she spoke. There would be a celebration later that night, a feast, and over the next few days, there would be the swearing of fealties. Yet the queen seemed both eager to put the realm to rights and to travel North, something that could only bear well for the future he sought for her, Jon Snow, and the realm itself. She'd accepted the need to wed her nephew, most eagerly. The love or beginnings of it that she felt for him was already there and far from a political alliance only, theirs it seemed would be one most welcomed for other reasons too.

That was something he was most pleased about. It had been some time since the realm was run by a king and queen who truly cared for each other. To have them be on the same side, the same page as each other was something that they truly needed in the days, weeks, moons, and years to come. A king not sidetracked by his lusts or appetites and a queen not concerned with her own grandiosity, two young and healthy people with their eyes focussed on what needed to be changed and righted and the will to see it done. In Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow, Varys finally believed he'd found those two people. Just as once he'd believed it of Prince Rhaegar and Elia Martell, but the prince it seemed had been a far better mummer than he'd imagined. The love he shared with his wife was more a platonic one than one of the heart. With how the queen and the man who'd soon be her king looked at each other, there was no doubt that it was a romantic form of love they shared.

"The girl asked for you, Lord Varys." a guard said as he made his way to his rooms, Varys sighing as he turned to head to rooms on the other side of the keep now instead.

When he reached them, the guard let him inside and he saw the young woman and her babe. The boy looked to him eagerly and Varys reached into his robes for the candied sweet to hand to him, his mother giving him a chiding look before the worried frown came over her face.

"You asked to see me, Gilly?" he said softly.

"Aye. Some people brought this to me and asked me to come tonight." Gilly said worriedly as she pointed out the dress.

"I think her grace sent them to you. Do you not wish to attend?" he asked and she shook her head "Then you need not, my child. I'll see food for you and Little Sam is brought to you and you can stay in your room if you wish."

"I…Thank you." she said as he turned to walk from the room, her voice stopping him in his tracks "Will we be going North soon?"

"Within the week I would wager. I've sent a raven to Lord Snow to tell him that you'll be joining us." he said to another worried frown "He won't hold what happened against you, Gilly. That man who attacked him wasn't Samwell, though he wore his face."

He'd tried to explain this to her several times and each time he knew he'd failed. At first because of her grief over the loss of Samwell Tarly and then because she couldn't understand the concept of a Faceless Man, something that Varys himself had trouble doing. It was one thing to hear of them and their deeds, another to have someone explain how it was they accomplished them. Looking at the woman and seeing her worried look, he decided to try another tack.

"Does Lord Snow seem the type of man to blame you for actions that you took no part in?" he asked and she shook her head "Does he seem the type to blame a babe for the same?"

"No."

"If you wish we can find you a place here, see you're well looked after. There is no need for you to go North if you fear it so."

"It's the only home I know." she said sadly.

"Then I'm sure it will welcome you back to it, as will Lord Snow." he said and this at least seemed to have an effect.

He believed in what he said completely, all the songs he'd gathered about Jon Snow told him so. The man could be fierce and unyielding to those who deserved it, but he was not or had not been up to now, unnecessarily cruel. In this he was the same as the queen, she too could be unyielding and even ruthless at times, but only with those who deserved to be treated that way. Varys had no love for the slave master of Essos and while Tyrion may have taken issue with how she'd treated those in Meereen, he very much did not.

What had been done to the children as a warning had backfired completely on the Great and Good Masters of Essos. They'd found Daenerys Targaryen to be of much sterner stuff than they had imagined, and in killing the children as they had, they'd only hardened her resolve and signed their own death warrants. Could she be rash, impulsive, yes at times she could, but so could any king or queen, any lord or lady. In time patience would replace any rashness and with Jon Snow by her side, he'd already seen what a help good and true advice was in that regard.

As he walked to his rooms and lay down for his nap, he found himself dreaming and contemplating the future. Images of dragons in the sky and children running around the Red Keep, of peace and prosperity filling his mind. Even later that night at the feast and at the swearing of fealties, it was this as much as those who had come to swear to the new queen that Varys thought on. His eyes may have sought out each of the lords and ladies who knelt and swore their oaths, his ears may have listened to any lie that may be in their words, but his thoughts were on the days to come.

After bidding the queen and those with her goodnight, Lady Olenna and Ser Jorah along with Missandei and Grey Worm all sat closest to the queen along with Yara Greyjoy and Ellaria Sand and her daughters, he made his way to his room and slept a comfortable night's sleep. When he woke the next morning it was with a sense of excitement as he waited for the ship to dock. The final doubts about Jon Snow were soon to be cleared up and he found he was as keen as no doubt the queen would be, to hear about those few moons at the Tower of Joy and of Prince Rhaegar and Lady Lyanna.

Seeing the woman when she walked down the gangplank took him a little by surprise. For some reason, he'd expected her to be older and had forgotten what Ned Dayne had said about him and Jon Snow being milk brothers. Wylla though was not so old, a woman in her fortieth year he'd wager and she looked as fit and healthy as any woman could be. There was a nervousness in her eyes and yet she didn't seem displeased to be there, nor by his presence when he moved to greet her.

"Lady Wylla?" he said stepping forward.

"Just Wylla, my lord."

"Then you may call me, Varys, Wylla, for truly I'm no lord either." he said with a small titter that brought a smile to her face.

"I had expected to be brought to the North, Varys, to Winterfell?" Wylla questioned.

"And you will. Her grace will soon be heading North to meet up with Jon Snow." he left the name hang and saw the smile grow a little bigger at Wylla's hearing of it "We felt it for the best if you joined that party to ensure that you reached the North without delay."

"I thank you for your concern. I find myself most eager to see the North at last. Long have I wished to be given leave to travel to it."

"I believe her grace would like to speak to you before and during your travels, Wylla, would you join me." he said pointing to the carriage and seeing her nod as she walked with him and then climbed inside.

There was a warm greeting from Ned Dayne when she arrived at the Red Keep, the young Lord of Starfall almost as keen as the woman herself and the queen to finally head north and now even more so when he found out that Wylla was to join them. Though he had no doubt the woman would have liked to get settled in the Red Keep, he found himself eager to bring her to meet the queen. Daenerys was most interested in what Wylla had to say and Varys hoped that when she met and spoke to the queen, Wylla's lips would loosen even a little. In one respect he somewhat got his wish, the words Wylla spoke when he introduced her to Daenerys, soon proving some of what they knew.

"Your grace, this is Wylla, the lady we spoke about."

"Wylla, I've heard so much about you, it's an honor to finally meet you." Daenerys gushed and Wylla stood silent as she looked at her.

"You look so much like him, you can truly only be his sister." Wylla said after a few moments of awkward silence.

"You truly knew my brother?" Dany asked excitedly, she may have known that this was true but there was a difference between hearing it from him or others and hearing it from the woman herself.

"I know him as well as most, your grace. He was my prince, his wife my princess." Wylla said happily.

"You knew Princess Elia?" Daenerys asked only to hold her hand to her mouth when she realized her mistake.

"No, I knew Princess Lyanna, your grace."

Winterfell 303 AC.

Rickon Stark.

The last few days had been overwhelming for the boy and his entourage and he couldn't help but think that it was his fault. He had been so focused on Jon and keeping him safe that he had neglected the rest of his Pack. Worse, his absence had aggravated the tensions between the North and the Vale, and his family had almost paid dearly for that.

Sansa's abduction was the result of his negligence and he felt so guilty he wasn't there for his sister as he should have been. Once again he'd acted selfishly, preferring to enjoy Jon's company instead of looking out for Sansa. Nymeria's words when he shared her mind came to him as soon as he heard of Sansa's disappearance. He had acted like a brat, like a child, because he had been too scared to lose Jon, and he had almost lost Sansa because of it.

When he searched for her at Jon's request, he didn't know if he could do it. He concentrated on Sansa and soon found her door, which meant that she was still alive, but while he forbade himself to go through it, he could still feel her emotions. Her panic and despair echoed through his very being. Rage filled him when he then focused on Littlefinger and he contemplated entering his mind to force him back to Winterfell. He didn't care about the man and wanted him dead anyway, so what difference would it make to control his mind?

Then you would be no better than your brother.

He didn't know where this voice came from, nor did he have time to question it more fully, but he knew he didn't want to be like Bran and so he focused on the animals around them. He traveled into a willing horse that was riding in their party and who shared with him what he had heard about Littlefinger's plans. Rickon thanked him for his help before telling Jon where it was they were heading.

This experience troubled him greatly. The fact that he had thought about doing something that he knew was wrong, and with almost no remorse, upset him. He knew it could be justified by the situation, or by his desire to save his family, but what would Osha think of him if she was here? Would she think him a monster as she had Bran when he'd warged into Hodor?

He tried to put these thoughts aside when he felt Jon and Sansa were close by and he shared the mind of a horse from the stables to go and look for them in the Wolfswood. The image of a bloody Sansa would forever be imprinted on his mind and he felt even more guilty for not talking to her sooner.

Despite Jon and Arya's assurance that Sansa was well and would quickly recover and the relief he felt when he heard that she was the one to end Littlefinger's life, the guilt would not go away.

He could not sleep that night, as he was too consumed by his thoughts and his concern for Sansa to manage to close his eyes. He missed Ghost's reassuring presence, even though Jon was there with him offering his own.

"You did well today, brother." Jon said as he sat on the floor next to him.

"Did I, really?" Rickon scoffed bitterly. "I failed Sansa. We all failed her."

"I know how you feel, Rickon." Jon sighed, making him frown. "When I received word that you wouldn't wake up and I was stuck in the South, I felt like I had abandoned you when you needed me the most. I feel the same for Sansa now and I know you do, too. I was trying to be the best brother you could have but I turned out to be the worst."

"But you aren't the worst!" he said firmly shocked that Jon would think such thoughts.

"That's what you say, but not how I feel."

"You came back. And you went to Sansa. If it weren't for you, we would have lost her. She was surrounded by people who would not have hesitated to kill her after what she did."

"And I got there thanks to you. You told me where to look. You were the one to save Sansa." Jon said rubbing his shoulder as he spoke.

"Yet I feel like shit. It should never have happened in the first place. We should have killed Littlefinger when we could."

"You're right, but what is done is done. It will do us no good to dwell on the past. We have another chance with our sister. The only thing we can do now is to take it and do better."

"I almost did it, you know?" Rickon admitted, to his shame, continuing when Jon looked at him inquisitively. "I almost forced myself onto his mind. Osha told me once that there was not a worse crime for a warg than to go inside a man's mind. That it was forbidden. But it was so tempting... I could have controlled him before he hurt Sansa. I could have made him do my bidding."

"I heard it too from another warg. Orell was his name. He had an eagle as a familiar. Gods I hated that man and he hated me too." Jon said his hand touching the scars on his face.

"What happened to him?"

"I had to kill him. His mind went to his eagle when he died and the eagle tried to kill me too. Fun times..." Jon chuckled, making Rickon smile too. "You're just starting to use your ability. The Free Folk think that warging is both a gift and a curse, given the person who can use it is able to skin change. They say that the way someone uses their power reveals their true heart. Your heart is a good one, listen to it and to your instincts. If it tells you that something is wrong, then it's because it is. Do not let this power corrupt you into being what you are not"

Rickon nodded, thinking back to the voice he heard and to his other brother. Was Bran heart's corrupted by his power? Had it made him become the emotionless person that Rickon now saw every day? He couldn't say, and in truth a part of him didn't want to know either.

He tried to put his thoughts aside and focus on his sister the next day. Sansa seemed better than the night before but he noticed the nervousness she felt every time she saw or heard someone who wasn't family. He had told Lyanna to keep the Lords of the North at bay for now and his friend did what he'd asked even though he knew she was curious to hear the whole story too. When Sansa asked to speak to him privately, he was afraid of what she wanted to say. Was she angry at him? Disappointed? Hurt that he hadn't been a good brother to her?

"I… I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for everything." she said, catching him off guard. "I thought I was doing what was right and to the best of my abilities. I… I think I finally understand you and so I'm truly sorry for how I acted before, for the words I said, and for giving up on you…"

"Sansa, don't…"

"I have to say it. You were right. I knew what Ramsay would do to you and I didn't act to save you. It broke my heart but I didn't even try while Jon never even thought about putting you aside. When I was… When Littlefinger captured me I thought I would never see you again. Worse, I feel like you wouldn't care and you would feel relieved not to have me around anymore..." Rickon wanted to interrupt her but she shook her head. "I know this is not true. I know it now and I thank you for not giving up on me. When I saw Jon I… When he said that we were still pack, it was as if a piece of me I didn't know was missing came into place. That's when I realized. When I knew how deeply it must have hurt you when you heard what I said…"

"It's in the past, now, Sister. I haven't been the best when it comes to you either. I should have done more."

"Do not blame yourself for my failures, Rickon. You and Arya and Jon, you reacted that way because I wronged you, and the North. Yet when I needed you the most, you were there. I can't say the same about myself." Sansa said her words firm.

"I know you stayed with me when I was… away. I saw you, Sansa. And I could feel that you loved me." Rickon said, feeling the emotion catch in his throat.

"I do, By the gods, I was so scared I feared I would never get to tell you how much I do…"

"What?"

"What?" Sansa frowned, confused, while Rickon decided to tease her to change the mood of the conversation -that was getting too emotional for his liking.

"What did you want to tell me?"

"Well… This?" she said looking at him confusedly.

"Meaning?" Rickon insisted, smirking and making Sansa stare at him with annoyance.

"What I just told you!"

"Which was?"

"Rickon!"

"Aye, I love you too, sister!" Rickon laughed wholeheartedly and then embraced his now annoyed sister.

He could feel her relax in his arms and she returned the hug while chuckling. He enjoyed her closeness and thanked the Old Gods for the second chance they had given him before they were then interrupted by the noise at the door.

"I don't care if the fucking king asked not to be disturbed! I want to see her now! so help me, if you do not let me through…" The hound shouted out.

"I should go talk to him," Sansa said sheepishly. "Before he hurts someone."

"Aye, you should. He really cares about you, you know?"

"I've always known..." she retorted, smiling brightly before rushing to the door.

He watched with amusement how Brienne, Tormund, and the Hound all fussed over Sansa who kept repeating that she was well. Then he felt a tug in his mind and rushed to the yard, only to find Ghost, Nymeria, and her whole pack there. He could hear the worried voices of the smallfolk and the awed whispers of the Free Folk as the wolves all stood diligently, not moving an inch as if they were waiting for guest rights.

"My pack welcomes you here and I as King in the North vow that you always have a place to stay here. You are free to do as you please and will be under my protection. Should any man or woman try to hurt you, they will be dealt with by me if you do not do so yourself," he finished with a smirk answered by a nod by Nymeria.

He watched with bated breath as she turned to her pack and they all howled their agreement, Ghost watching with something akin to pride as his sister led hers to do so. His excitement grew as he saw Jon escort Arya out of the crypts and his sister gasped as she caught the scene in front of her.

"You came! You really came!" Arya yelled, running to Nymeria who had her beat in speed and pinned her while licking her face happily.

Seeing the joy in her sister's face made Rickon think about everything she and his kin had gone through. They had led a very rough life when they would never have expected that to be their fate because of their upbringing. Their father had sheltered them so much that they weren't prepared for the harsh reality of the world, he more than the others due to his age, and they'd suffered greatly because of that and all of them to an extent had closed themselves to others.

Bran had changed completely, erasing his feelings while Rickon lashed out in anger at everyone he didn't trust. Sansa pushed those she loved away and surrounded herself with people she knew were dangerous to her, though Rickon still didn't understand why she kept making the wrong choices until now. Arya was wary of everyone and wanted to be No One at some point and Jon… Jon forsook himself completely to do what was best for everyone else. All of them chose to bury their feelings and fears so as to not be hurt, and all of them were surviving rather than living up to this point. They would still need to survive the Army of the Dead, but Rickon would make sure that when they did, they would get over their fears and start living life to its fullest. Starting with Jon.

As much as he wanted to keep his brother with him, Rickon felt that he was not what would make Jon happy. He needed to be his own person, not to be in the shadow of a King or to be simply a servant of the North, and Rickon also had to get over his own fear of losing him. He knew, felt in his heart that wherever Jon would be, he would come back to him should he need him and their family. He still feared for his life and his well-being, but he saw the way Jon worried about Daenerys and her own feelings towards him. His brother was in love and even a blind man could see it.

Feeling the weight of a stare on him, he turned from the scene in front of him and his gaze locked with Bran's. How at times the fucker moved so swiftly, Rickon didn't know, but the shake of his brother's head, rather than deterring him, reinforced his desire to talk to the Lords that night.

They met in the Great Hall per his request, with Sansa sitting back at the High table, near Arya, and Bran at the end of it. Rickon made the message clear of who he favored and who he didn't.

"As you know, Lord Baelish has committed a great crime against the North. While under guest rights, he abducted my sister, Sansa, counting on dissension in our ranks for us not to seek to run after her. However, whatever wrongs my sister has done cannot condone this action."

"Lord Baelish is now dead, killed at my sister Sansa's own hands, and because of that we may face a potential war with the Knights of the Vale should they wish to claim retribution for their Liege's Regent." Jon added.

"Let them come!" Larence Snow. "They'll soon find out the hard way how dutifully the North protects their own."

"We went to war because a daughter of House Stark was abducted once, we would go to war to protect another whose life has wrongfully been threatened and who defended herself as any Northern Lady should have." Lyanna declared sternly and Rickon saw Jon wince from out of the corner of his eyes.

"I thank you, my Lord, my Lady. I have sent a raven to Lords Glover and Cerwyn at Moat Cailin so that they intercept the Knights of the Vale so this can be explained in person, while other arrangements will be made to bring back the Lords who helped kidnap my sister to Winterfell. Once those particular men are returned they will then be judged by NorthernLaw for the crimes they've committed." he said to cheers.

"The fuckers from the Vale won't stand by and watch you slay their own," The Hound, who hadn't left Sansa's side since she had been brought back, declared. "They'll accuse Sansa of lying and they'll ask for a trial by combat if you refuse to judge her for Littlefinger's death"

"We're well aware of it, Clegane, and were they to challenge my sister, they'll find Longclaw stands ready to defend her," Jon answered, making Rickon smirk and Sansa gasp in shock.

"You would be my champion?" she asked Jon weakly.

"Of course. We're family, Sansa. They'll have to get through me before they can get to you." his brother replied assuredly.

"And they'll find me in their way too," Brienne then said determinedly.

"You know I'll kill them all. You only have to ask," Clegane added gruffly.

"Same for me," Arya said and Sansa's smile grew even larger at their sister's words. "Although now that you showed that my teachings have not been for naught, I think I can make a knight out of you quickly enough for you to kill them yourself." Arya added to loud cheers.

"She did take Littlefinger's little finger!" Tormund yelled out to laughs from the others.

"Aye, my Sister, the Red Wolf," Rickon said proudly, and soon all in attendance shouted out Sansa's new moniker. He could sense she was on the verge of crying, but she needed to feel that this action had brought her somewhat back in the North's good graces.

"How do you feel, Lady Sansa?" Lord Manderly asked once things had calmed down, the Lord of White Harbor sounding genuinely concerned.

"I am well, Lord Wyman. Still a little shaken, but I am relieved to be home. I have a lot to atone for, with my family and with you, My Lords and Ladies, and I am ready to face the consequences of my actions."

"Lady Sansa has agreed to step down from the council, as proof of her good faith. She is not to get involved in Northern matters for the foreseeable future." Rickon said to fists banging on the tables in agreement. "I would now ask Lady Dustin to take her position if it pleases you, my lady"

"Me, Your Grace?" Barbrey said, obviously surprised.

"From what I heard, you've worked hard with Ser Davos and Lord Manderly and have been most vocal against the Knights of the Vale, so I know you will fight for the interests of the North and I need people willing to do this."

"An honor, Your Grace, truly. Though… May I be honest with you?"

"Honesty is what I seek, my Lady." he said nodding to the older woman.

"I do not think we should be adding more people to the Northern council… As we might not need one when the war is over…" she said to rising murmurs from the others.

"Lady Mormont, Ser Davos, and Arya have voiced your concerns to me, about Daenerys Targaryen and what should happen to the North after the war against the Dead." Rickon said. "Your concerns are valid. We stand no chance if Queen Daenerys decides to attack us before or after coming back North. She however has sent word that when she does come it will be with food, provisions -"

"And an army far stronger in numbers than our forces." Morgan Liddle said.

"Indeed, but she has respected her promise to send Jon back North when her war was won has she not? She could have kept him as a hostage and tried to bargain with us, but she didn't. She gave up something she truly wanted and agreed to set our differences aside to help us win this war, and I don't think she would attack if we agreed to give it to her."

"You're talking about the throne? You're going to bend the knee?" Wyman Manderly asked.

"Oh, no. Not the Throne. I'm talking about my brother." he said and Jon turned and stared at him with disbelief.

"Jon?" Sansa gasped. "You want to give her Jon?" his sister not sounding best pleased and he was glad it was worry about their brother that his thoughts went to regarding Sansa's motives and not anything else, Rickon knowing that was what she was leading with.

"Isn't it who she asked for in our first bargain?" Rickon smirked. "She could have asked us to bend the knee, to give up the Crown in exchange for her help. Yet she keeps praising Jon and calling me King. She's treating me as her equal when we know damn well that she could make us bend with just her dragons, whereas she asks for the Vale to bend the knee to her in the same letter. Why is that? Because I am Jon's brother. She respects me because she respects him, and so I think it is time to suggest an alliance if we were to survive the War. To give her something or rather someone she wants in exchange for her help and see if she accepts."

"You can't be serious!" Arya said loudly. "You can't give away our brother like that!"

"Actually, this is a rather sensible offer, my Lady, begging your pardon," Ser Davos butted in as Rickon knew he would, as he had suggested a betrothal before. "An alliance by marriage would be beneficial for both parties. This way we are seen as willing to compromise with her, whether she accepts or not, and it will open negotiations even if she doesn't."

"I will not sell my brother, not even for the North!" Arya retorted, her voice trembling with emotion while Sansa looked ready to agree with their sister.

"If we do that, we are no better than what Littlefinger tried to do to Lady Mormont," Bran interjected.

"I am King in the North. It is my duty as King to do what is best for my people. For all of them. And Jon marrying Daenerys Targaryen is the best outcome that could happen for the North." Rickon said and saw it then, the flicker of surprise turning to understanding and then determination in Jon's eyes.

I'm doing it for you, Brother. So you can have the opportunity to be happy… his mind called out and he hoped that Jon could hear him as clearly as if he'd said it with words.

He could see Bran was trying to object, but whatever he was about to say was cut short by Jon's intervention.

"All I have ever done in my life has always been with the North and my family in mind, even when I thought I had lost them all at the Wall. My brother, King Rickon, knows this, and he also would never force me to do anything against my will. If marrying Queen Daenerys is what the North needs me to do, then I would gladly do so. Not only because it will benefit the North, but because it is what I want and so if she would have me then it's what I want to happen."

"You would do it willingly, then?" Lyanna asked, smirking.

"I knew you wanted her!" Tormund exclaimed, making the Lady of Bear Island shake her head and glare at the red-headed man.

"The last thing we wish for is to have a son of Stark blood being forced to leave unwillingly with the dragon." Big Bucket Wull said loudly and Rickon's wince echoed his brother's. "But you say this is what you want, so I ask, are you sure you want it, The Jon?"

"Aye, I do." Jon said without a hint of doubt.

"Then the Wull agrees to the proposal."

"As do I, I think it would be for the best." Lord Manderly nodded.

"You should make him a Stark before suggesting the betrothal, Your Grace" Barbrey said. "Not that I care what your name is, but the Southerners might take offense at a bastard marrying their queen."

"Let them think what they want, Lady Dustin. For I carry no shame about my birth. Queen Daenerys doesn't care about status and birth privileges. She believes in people's true worth. One of her most trusted advisors is a former slave and her Hand is a woman." Jon retorted harshly, maybe a little too harshly for Rickon's taste. He might understand that his brother already had a name, but the way he refused seemed as if he truly loathed the one he had wished him to share with them all.

"What of Tyrion Lannister?" Ser Davos said while the others looked at him in shock.

"He has been demoted because of the wrong council he has given the Queen thus far. Lady Olenna Tyrell is the new Hand of the Queen." Jon said, speaking the woman's name fondly to Rickon's ears.

"Good for her to finally realize how wrong it would be to have a Lannister in a seat of power after kicking Cersei from hers," Arya noted gruffly, only smiling when Nymeria made her presence known.

"The proposal I will make to Queen Daenerys is both on my brother and the North's behalf. This is why I want to make sure that all of you agree to it." Rickon then declared, bringing the attention to him as a chorus of Aye's resonated in the Great Hall. "Good. Now I wanted to thank you all for your work regarding the preparations for the war. I know this winter will be a hard one, and that we all have to make efforts and sacrifices to ensure our people survive. There is a shipment to be received in Sea Dragon Point, sent by the Queen, and I will need volunteers to go collect it, as well as some fierce hunters to follow Nymeria's wolves when they'll leave to bring us more game. These wolves are not to be touched as they were given guest rights. I don't care how fucking hungry they are, if one of your people harms one of them, they will be given NorthernJjustice by me or my sister over there." Rickon said and Sansa chuckled as did Arya when it was she and not Arya he looked to.

After this stern talk and the promise of the Lords and Ladies to obey his orders, most of them volunteered for the mission he had given. Talia Forrester had also offered to bring some ironwood from her keep's Grove to help with the consumption of wood in Winterfell, as it was widely known that Ironwood was nearly impervious to flames and only the Forresters could light it up for as long as they wished.

Looking now at his satisfied Lords, Rickon chanced a glance at his brother and smiled wolfishly at his expressionless face, the shake of the head he received warming his heart more than even Arya or Sansa's smile.

Winterfell 303 AC.

Howland Reed.

He'd waited for far too long to set foot in Winterfell once more, more than two decades had passed since he'd done so and he'd almost begun to give up hope that he ever would. Sending his children rather than himself had been hard but he'd done as the gods had bid him and it had cost him a son and almost a daughter. Meera was only now starting to come back to herself somewhat and that was mainly down to the fact that Rickon Stark lived and not anything to do with him.

Was anyone to ask him, he'd say that his daughter had loved Bran Stark once. That even despite him not having the use of his legs, he would have who she'd have chosen for a match was she given that choice. Whatever had happened between them or whatever feelings she may have had for the boy, was now a thing of the past. Which he was most grateful for, as over time he'd found out that it was not his issues with Ned Stark that had kept him from Winterfell for all these years, nor even his guilt over her son, but fear of a boy who'd become something both powerful and very dangerous. Bran Stark was his reason for staying away and had things remained the same, then he'd have mayhap done so for the rest of his life.

As it was, the Old Gods had shown him the path and it led to Winterfell. Howland was both excited to see Rickon Stark in the flesh and equally so to see her boy once more. The guilt he felt about Jon Snow was something he'd carry with him to the grave. Promises that weren't kept, plans that were discarded and a life lived that should not have been. While he truly believed that in the end, it was as the gods had willed it to be, he still felt his own part in things could have been much better. He owed her more than that and should he see her again, he felt she'd not be forgiving.

"The Lords of the Vale, father." Meera called out and Howland nodded, seeing the men some distance in front of them, the sigils of Glover and Cerwyn spread amongst them.

With a nod to his daughter and the men who rode with him, they increased their pace and caught up with the larger group before nightfall. Howland was happy to be among men of the North once more, though it seemed that the horse that Rickon Stark had left in his care was very much not.

"Be at peace. It's to someone far better I take you to." he said softly as he tied off the horses and made sure they were cared for.

Meera had seen that their tents were already set up and so Howland made his way to speak to Robett Glover and Cley Cerwyn, the older of the two looking at him with suspicion while the younger seemed stunned to see him away from the Neck.

"Howland?"

"Robett. I take it you head for Winterfell?" he asked to a nod "And the Knights of the Vale?"

"The king sent a raven, Lord Reed. They've been bid to return." Cley Cerwyn said, still looking at him as if he was a spirit or wraith, something he could understand as few had seen him since the Rebellion.

"I'm surprised to see you, Howland, I'd not thought anything could get you to leave Greywater Watch." Robett said and his suspicion was still noticeable.

"Some things require it of even me, Robett. I'm to swear my oaths and play my part in what's to come."

"I'd have thought you'd have been given leave to protect the Neck, Lord Reed."

"Aye, were I to ask for it Lord Cerwyn, then I'm sure his grace would oblige, but the fight that comes our way requires us all and there are decisions soon to be made that will shape the North for years to come."

Robett looked at him even more curiously now but held his tongue and Howland was glad of it. They ate and spoke some more, Cley Cerwyn eager to tell him as much as he could about the King and Jon Snow as well as the rest of the Starks, while Robett seemed almost angered in hearing the names being spoken. He almost chuckled when mention of the horse was made, Cley naming Unicorn as wild and unruly and Howland replying that mayhap it was the rider and not the horse, something that didn't sit well with Robett.

They rode in silence the next day, he'd tried to speak to the Knights of the Vale and found them to be a prickly bunch. Lord Royce did not look best pleased with being ordered back to Winterfell and complained about it more than once. When he saw the large grey walls come into view he was transported to a time many years earlier. Banners had been called and war was on the horizon, not much had changed if he was being honest with himself. Though seeing the face of Jon Snow when they entered the courtyard and were greeted by all of the Starks soon had him back in the present and not lost in time.

"Lord Reed." Rickon Stark said, smiling at him and at Meera.

"Your Grace."

"We had not expected you, Lord Reed. Though you are most welcome." Sansa Stark said and looking at her was like looking at her mother reborn.

He almost gasped when he saw the other Stark daughter, Arya looked very much like Lyanna once had though she was a little rougher around the edges too. Out of the corner of his eye, he felt Bran Stark's eyes upon him and though the boy wore no expression, there was enough in that gaze to warrant caution. As for Lyanna's son, he said little, and other than a brief greeting, they barely interacted. Instead, it seemed to be Glover, Cerwyn, and the Knights of the Vale who took Jon's attention.

There was some amusement when Rickon Stark saw Unicorn, the boy not acting like a king as he walked away from them and welcomed the horse. The whispers in its ear and the way he closed his eyes as he stroked its head were enough to tell Howland that the bond between them remained strong. There was no sign of the famous Direwolves which disappointed him a little and he was shown to a room far too quickly for his liking. Rickon then bid him and Meera join him in his solar a little later that night.

"His grace wishes to speak to us." he said to the giant blond woman who guarded the door, Howland happy to see that Rickon was taking his safety seriously, though later he was to find out it was Jon Snow who was in charge of seeing that was so.

"I'll see if he's ready for you, Lord Reed." the woman said as she knocked and opened the door, he and Meera bid to enter a moment later.

Later that night they held a feast of sorts, Howland finding his eyes drawn to the Starks and he was happy to see that they looked so united. Rickon, Sansa, and Arya all laughed and japed while Jon Snow played along, though it was clear his heart wasn't truly in it. The Knights of the Vale and Lord Royce in particular looked displeased and given what Rickon had said to him and Meera regarding his sister, he could understand why. Though they'd find no favor in demanding that she pay for doing what any woman in her position should. and Howland smiled as he remembered the words that Rickon had said.

"They may seek to see my sister tried and if they do I wish them good fortune, for they'll find my brother's blade a match for any they can call on and she can or will have no better champion than Jon."

There was a sense of pride about how the Starks seemed to speak about each other now. Meera had told him that Sansa was a much different person than she'd been when she and Bran had arrived and seeing them sitting together so closely, he would name them as what they were always meant to be, a pack. All but the one who sat somewhat distanced from them and whose eyes searched the room even more keenly than his own. Bran Stark seemed a wolf apart, though he wasn't truly a wolf any longer.

Howland soon found his eyes drawn to Lyanna Mormont and she was every inch her mother's child. The She-Bear of Bear Island may be small in stature but she had a presence about her that he remembered Maege having all those years before. It was Meera who brought his attention to Jon Snow when he left the Great Hall, Howland looking from him to the King for permission to follow and upon seeing the small nod that Rickon gave him, he hurried after him. He saw the disappearing form as it entered the crypts, the door left open for him to follow and soon enough he was walking in the footsteps that Jon left behind. He was noticed as soon as he entered the crypts, though he couldn't see the man in front of him.

"My mother named you a friend, Lord Reed." the voice called out from the darkness, and Howland was lost for a moment as he sought out the owner of that voice "She saved you from a beating according to her journal and though I know few of the true details of what happened at the Tower of Joy, I know it was your blade that ended The Sword of the Morning." Jon Snow said as he moved from the shadows and lit the candle that illuminated Lyanna's statue.

"I did, Jon." he said softly and shamefully.

"So you knew of me?" Jon asked accusingly.

"I did."

"Yet felt no need to speak to me, no need to tell me a truth I deserved to know." the voice was quiet and yet the anger was clear "Was it an oath to a man who deserved it not that kept you from telling your friend's son who he truly was?" Jon asked bitterly.

"In part, Aye."

"Then mayhap my mother should have let those men finish what they started at Harrenhal."

He reached out to stop him as he walked away, his hand quickly being brushed away and he almost felt as if he was about to be struck or worse.

"I hold you in the same contempt I hold him." Jon said looking at Ned's statue "Between you both you hid the truth of who I am and I care not for your reasons. I deserved to know who my mother was, who my true father was. I deserved to know that the tales I heard about them both were untrue. All my life I believed my father to be a rapist and a kidnapper because of him and you." Jon spat "May the Old Gods forgive you both, for I find I cannot."

"Jon.."

"Is that even my name?" Jon asked and Howland knew not how to answer.

"I know not, it's what your fa…" the glare he got stopped him from naming Ned that way and so he resorted to naming him by name instead "It's what Ned told me your name was, that you were to be called Jon. I believe he named you for Jon Arryn or mayhap even Jon Stark."

"I'm not a fucking falcon or a wolf though am I! All my life I've been afraid of this place. I've felt I didn't belong here and that the shame of my birth meant they wished me gone. The ghosts of the past told me I wasn't welcome here and all my life I knew it to be so. Yet because of Ned Stark and Howland Reed, I knew not why that was." he could see anger and determination in his face as Jon spoke.

"I'm sorry, Jon." he said softly.

"I care not for your apology, Lord Reed and I don't accept it. Keep far from me while you stay here, speak not on me or about me, not even with my family. Do me that service and this is the only time we need speak. My mother named you a friend, Lord Reed, but you were no friend of hers and you're certainly not one of mine."

He watched as Jon walked from the Crypts, the retreating figure looking anything but upset and though he'd not welcomed his anger, he did welcome that at least. Turning to the statue he looked up to see a face that was a poor likeness of the woman she'd been.

"Forgive me, Lyanna." he said softly and as he felt the wind ride and the candle blow out, he felt she would not.

King's Landing 303 AC.

Sarella Martell.

Having her father's name brought her as much pride that hit did guilt. She would rather have him and the rest of their family alive than to be a Martell. To think that they didn't even get her sisters' bodies back, or that they in some way had been desecrated had made her mad at Ellaria for quite some time. She was not a religious person, but she believed in action and consequences, and her mother's action against Doran and Myrcella had cursed her older sisters, almost condemned Ellaria and Tyene, and what for?

They hadn't even avenged her father's death, not if the rumors and her mother's account were to be believed. The Mountain had still been breathing and the forsaken Maester whom Cersei took as her Hand was responsible for that abomination he'd become. If it hadn't been for Jon Snow and the Queen's dragon, then justice for her father wouldn't have been done.

She was glad to see her mother and sister safe and sound. Whatever disagreement they had in the past regarding their actions would never change the love she bore her family and Sarella found herself crying in her mother's arms when she arrived in King's Landing. She was grateful only Tyene and Ned Dayne were present to see her moment of weakness, as it would be unbecoming for the future Princess of Dorne to appear feeble.

"Mama!" she remembered saying before looking her in the eyes as if she was still a child and not a grown woman.

"My sweet, beautiful, child..." Ellaria had gushed, caressing her cheek and smiling brightly. "I didn't think I would see you again."

"Neither did I. I'm so glad I was wrong!"

"The girls? Are they..."

"Guarded in Hellholt. They miss you, Mama, but they are well looked over. Grandfather dotes on them, especially Dorea and Loreza. He refuses them nothing and spoils them way too much." she sighed, making Ellaria and Tyene chuckle.

"Did they give you grief, the Lords? When they heard you would be legitimized?" her sister asked.

"Well, Lord Yronwood put forward a betrothal with his son Cletus. As did Lord Dalt with his brother."

"He'll have you marry Drey?" Tyene gasped and Sarella, knowing of his sister's closeness with the man, gave her a playful smirk.

"Yes, but I told him I would not have my sister's leftovers. I'm not that desperate!" she jested, amused to see her sister glare at her.

She still couldn't believe she would be the one to rule Dorne. She felt unworthy of the task and truly, she didn't want it in the first place. She wanted to keep on studying as an acolyte in the Citadel, but her cover had been blown as soon as her mother sent word to her and she had been forced to leave Oldtown to take care of her younger sisters while Ellaria went on her path to vengeance. The institution frustrated her in more than one aspect. Their unwillingness to share their knowledge with girls or to get involved in the affairs of the Seven Kingdoms as well as their dismissiveness for anything regarding magic, despite the previous reports of occurrences happening in the North and warnings about a possible threat beyond the Wall, got on her nerves. She remembered how they laughed when Qyburn, on behalf of Cersei Lannister, asked for means to eradicate dragons, and she couldn't help but smirk when she saw them fly over her head during Queen Daenerys' coronation.

Who's laughing now, Archmaester Ebrose?

"Shouldn't there be three dragons?" she asked her mother as she stood admiring them.

"Yes, but they do as they please. Queen Daenerys always says that a dragon is not a slave."

"Indeed. Do you think I could have a private audience with her? There are some things I need to discuss with her."

"You can ask Lady Olenna when you'll see her," Ellaria suggested and she nodded, enjoying the festivities until her duties were reminded to her the next day. She went into the Tower of the Hand after breaking her fast with her mother and found Lady Olenna already working.

"There's much to be done, Princess," Olenna said and she grimaced at the denomination. "You'll get used to it, maybe not to the unwanted attention the title will give you, but to it, you will. How are the preparations for the war in Dorne?"

"We've done as you've asked and a force of twenty thousand men led by Ser Daemon Sand will soon be arriving in King's Landing. We will depart as soon as the Queen is ready to leave."

"We?"

"It is my duty as the Princess of Dorne to lead my forces to battle and to ensure their safety."

"That's something that will endear you to the Lords since your Uncle couldn't do so himself. Have you been trained like the others?"

"I have, but I studied -"

"At the Citadel, I know. I hope you're smarter than the foolish men who remain there."

"You're talking about their unwillingness to send a Grand Maester now that the Queen has been crowned?" she asked curiously.

"You definitely sound more clever. Any idea why they're taking their sweet time to send someone?"

"Stupidity, wariness. Fear. Whoever they send here, watch him carefully and do not trust him without testing him first. They were the ones to send the blueprints for the scorpions requested by Qyburn, while this man had been set aside from the Order. One would wonder why they still comply while the Last Grandmaester was killed and they hadn't sent one to replace Pycelle."

"But you know why, don't you?"

"They didn't believe dragons were back into the world, but they wanted to be prepared in case the reports were true. They do not like having a Targaryen rule the Seven Kingdoms with magical beings around her, especially the Mad King's Daughter. And I don't think they will believe the things I have heard my mother say about the dead men walking." she said shaking her head.

"I have had the unfortunate experience of seeing one of those dead things, believe me, it pains me to say that it's true." Olenna said shivering slightly.

"I know. We received an acolyte from Castle Black, a Samwell Tarly. Nice man, a little unsure of himself and about everything except that the Long Night was coming."

"Tarly, you said? Were you close to him?" Olenna asked, frowning.

"Not really. He was friendly enough but he got frustrated that nobody listened to him and he kept trying to access a forbidden section of the Citadel. Then, one day he just… Disappeared." she said and Olenna looked as if she was about to say something only to change her mind and ask her something else.

"And what is your opinion? About the Long Night?"

"I don't think people like Daenerys Targaryen, my mother, and yourself would lie about seeing the dead walking. I have read things about the Long Night in books and have read about the Last Hero. I just wish we had more time and could find out more ways to defeat the dead if we truly have to fight them."

"I think it's high time for the Citadel to be reminded of their place in the Seven Kingdoms, of who is in charge of it and who they should help." Olenna said firmly.

"I would hate to see books burn, but if I can see the Archmaesters soil themselves, I'm all for it." Sarella chuckled.

"I like you, and the Queen will surely like you too." Olenna's smirking face showed her words to be true.

She felt so filled with pride. Praise from the Queen of Thorns, one of the most prominent players of the Game, was something few alive could boast about. Maybe she could do it, she thought. Maybe she could actually be a good Princess of Dorne and make her father proud.

The Black Cells 303 AC.

Jaime Lannister.

Never in a million years did he think he would end up this way. Stuck in the worst cells of the Keep he had lived so long in, after being captured a third time by the enemy. Yet it was not yet another countless humiliation that got to his head and shattered his mind.

She had left him. She ran away with Euron Gryjeoy, of all the people, and left him here to die without a care.

Why hadn't they killed him? Did they enjoy torturing him by keeping him alive, he who was already dead on the inside? He knew they wouldn't exchange him or keep him alive to ensure Cersei wouldn't try anything against them. Why would they, when she clearly abandoned him without thinking twice?

Damn you, Cersei! Damn you to the Seven Hells!

He could understand her desire to leave King's Landing when she felt the winds change and that she was losing. She had their child to think about and to protect, yet he couldn't get over the fact that she'd left with that Greyjoy fuck. That she didn't tell him to come with her hurt him the most. Instead, she had let him do her dirty work as usual and then had run away with Euron fucking Greyjoy of all people.

I hope you choke and meet your fucking Drowned God!

He could hear people praising Daenerys Targaryen who it seemed was getting crowned that day and it made him despise them all even more. They weren't this cheerful when they ruled King's Landing, but could one of them say they'd suffered more under Joffrey, Tommen, or even Cersei's rule than they had under the Mad King?

Fools, the lot of them. If they knew what Aerys had planned for them during the Sack of King's Landing then they wouldn't dare kiss his daughter's feet. She was no better than her Father, hiding behind dishonorable people to do her bidding and push her enemy to make a mistake so it would seem they were those in the wrong and she who was wronged. These sheep couldn't be expected to stay loyal to someone, for as soon as their opponent lured them with promises of a better life and more food to eat, they would turn their cloaks and stab you in the back.

Fuck them. Fuck them all. I should have let Aerys burn this city into ashes.

He knew he was being unfair. That the people of Flea Bottom were never loyal to his sister, but rather scared by what she could do, just as they were with Aerys, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Anger and hatred were all he felt at that moment towards everyone, his sister included.

She betrayed me. No, she has saved our babe. Get a grip, Jaime, at least she can raise it somewhere safe, away from the Dragon Bitch and all those who wanted to see her dead.

His thoughts threatened to overwhelm him and yet he gave into them all the same, or he was about to.

"You seem conflicted." he jumped as the voice rang from the other side of the cell and frowned as he saw the woman there. How the hell did she manage to enter without him hearing her?

"Who are you? What do you want?" he asked, his voice shakier than he'd have liked.

"To give you some clarity before you face justice. In two days' time, you will have a trial, and my Lord brought me here so you can be prepared."

"Tell Tyrion that I do not wish his help, nor do I need it." he spat.

"I do not come on your brother's behalf." she said and he frowned, looking at her closely before realizing who she was.

"You... You were with the Dragon Bitch too. You're the Red priestess who came with the bastard. Stannis former's whore. If you're here for a quick fuck, you will be disappointed." he said snarkily.

"I am Melisandre of Asshai and your insults will not hurt me. I have heard and endured much more than to be upset by the likes of you."

"Why are you here?" he repeated, annoyed by her presence.

"To tell you some truths that you need to hear. Because you are needed in the battle to come. The Long Night is coming and the Dead come with it. You saw it, saw what we must defeat"

Jaime shook his head, remembering the dead thing that had attacked Cersei on that fateful day that she left him.

"Not my problem. Though I do wish you good fortune and all." he said smirking at the non-amused woman.

"You were willing to fight against it. I saw your face when it was attacking your sister. Wouldn't you want to protect her still?"

"You all want her dead anyway, so spare me your manipulation."

"Her, mayhaps, but not the child she bears."

"How... How do you..." he stuttered.

"My Lord shows me a lot of things, Jaime Lannister. He showed me your purpose is not done yet. There are many answers you seek, about your role, your place in the world, and things that were said to you by a Prince before he headed to face his end at the Trident. About a song that would be heard and your sword answering its call." she answered with a soft smile.

Jaime's confusion deepened and he shivered at Melisandre's words. He would have named her a liar had she not talked about Rhaegar and his last words to him. He had never said them to anyone, not even Cersei, so how would she know about them if it wasn't through her God?

"Let me leave with you, my Prince. I can be useful. I can fight, you know I can!"

"One day your sword will be needed, far more needed than it is today. There is a song to be sung and I fear for the realm should it not be. On that day it would bring me comfort to know the singer has the White Lion to call upon, but that day is not today, Jaime."

"It can't be..." Jaime whispered, lost now in the reminiscence of a past that still hurt him deeply.

"You always wondered what he meant, didn't you? The answer to your question lies North, where the wind blows and the wolves howl, and a song needs to be heard for the Dawn to rise."

"Why can't you just simply tell me already?" he asked, frustrated by yet more mystery.

"It would not be as fulfilling as finding out by yourself, trust me. Go North, fight for the living, find your purpose, for your Prince asked it of you and you owe him as much."

She left as she'd arrived, with him being too overwhelmed to notice her movements. He shook his head as he tried to decipher the meaning behind her words and yet couldn't forget them. As much as he hated it, she had found a way inside his head by speaking of Rhaegar Targaryen, the only man that he had admired as much if not more than Ser Arthur Dayne, before the whole ordeal with the Stark girl had occurred. He'd never once thought that the Prince had held her against her will and that someone like the Sword of the Morning would condone such behavior from any man, even one he'd named his truest friend. Even though he did so with Aerys when it came to Queen Rhaella, he knew that he was as disgusted as Jaime was because of it and that he would refuse to guard the King's door, instead keeping to his duty around Viserys or Rhaegar's children when they were present in the Red Keep.

Why now? Why would she make him think about a past that he had decided to bury as soon as Cersei had married Robert Baratheon? Why did she care about a dead man's wishes, and why did he feel that he still cared so much now that he thought about it?

Jaime was still in a daze a few days later.

Tyrion pleading his case during the trial that his crimes committed against House Targaryen were for the greater good had been met with skepticism, and Jaime had almost laughed at how much his brother had fallen from grace. Daenerys Targaryen was clearly holding him in contempt and while Jaime didn't understand why, he couldn't bring himself to care either. The last thing he needed was to owe that monster his life after he tore it apart with his machinations and desperate attempts to be seen as something other than what he truly was.

When the Red Lady had stood up and taken up his defense, much to the surprise of everyone, and when Daenerys then agreed to send him North, so the Starks who had suffered as much from his cruelty could decide on his fate, he felt like a sacrificial lamb. Yet the smile of the red priestess never left her face, not even when she accompanied him on the ship heading North, her words promising him that he would not regret the journey.

He hoped for her and for his own sake that she was right.

Beyond the Wall 303 AC.

Benjen Stark.

He was glad he could no longer feel the cold and that he didn't need to sleep. The dead were everywhere when you knew how to look for them and the Night King was getting frustrated while waiting to grow his ranks. The ranging from the members of the Night's Watch had stopped and he was glad for it, fearing that the Night King would use one of his former brothers to cross the Wall without much trouble. Not that the Night King would have much trouble with crossing it soon.

He could feel it. The magical protection of the Wall had been getting weaker ever since Bran crossed over to the other side of it. He now believed the mark of the Night King on his arm had had an effect over the Wall itself and so he blamed himself for going against his instincts and making Bran leave with his friend. Benjen prayed that they at least had listened to his warnings and had prepared accordingly. For it would be the North, and his former home, that would be attacked first by the forces of the Night King when they finally broke through it.

Thinking about his nephew made him shiver. The Bran he had known in his former life was so different from the one he'd met in this one and it had broken his heart. That his nephew was supposed to be the next Three-Eyed Raven had filled him with pride and sadness, as he knew from the one who had saved him what such a thing truly entailed. A life of solitude and seclusion was not what he desired for Bran, but that he would stay alive and grow old, older than what he could imagine until he found a replacement to share his wisdom with, was something Benjen appreciated, especially given the short span of the Starks' life expectancy in recent years.

He was worried for Bran, though. His coldness and the fact he couldn't feel any connection with him, contrary to what he'd felt with Bloodraven ever since he'd been saved, made him uneasy. It was the Three-Eyed Raven's presence that prevented him from becoming a White Walker, and Benjen had to struggle every minute since his disappearance to resist the influence of the Night King's magic. He could feel the enemy's powers growing and he found himself drawn to him more than once.

Come with us.

You don't belong to the living.

Help me. Help me fulfill my purpose.

Cross the Wall and bring him to me.

Bring me to him...

They will die. All those you care about.

They died because of him and the rest will join me soon.

These thoughts, rather than convincing Benjen, made him resist even more. He knew thanks to Bran that Arya, Sansa, and Jon were alive, and the last thing he wanted was for the last remnants of his family to become slaves to the Night King's will.

Yet he would be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued by the Night King's insistence. Who was the person he wanted so much to reach? Why did he want him to go to them? He needed to know more and so he had prayed to the Old Gods for more answers.

It was when he was kneeling in front of one of the few heart trees that had not been desecrated by the Army of the Dead that he felt it. The compelling need to travel North. The thought was a warm one, not like those he had shared with his enemy since Bloodraven had died, so he knew it wasn't another trap concocted by the former and decided to trust his instincts.

He encountered many dangers and had needed to kill many foot soldiers to arrive at his destination, and he could feel in his mind that he was being followed. The Night King used dead animals as lookouts to warn him of his presence and the presence of any of the still mortal ones. Benjen soon found himself in a place he knew well and he was surprised to see the Raven's Heart Tree, where everything had started for him once more.

Why was he here? Would he find the answers he sought? Had Bloodraven left a clue, knowing what was to happen next?

It was strange to feel the magic surrounding the tree once more. It was weak, but definitely there, and he hesitated before trying to cross it, as he couldn't before unless one of the Children was with him.

He felt a tug at his heart when he went through the barrier while thinking about that fateful night and all those lives lost. The last cry for help that Bloodraven had sent him before disappearing completely from his mind.

Benjen… Your nephew… Help…

He had mourned them all. The Children of the Forest were gone and he now remembered the wonder he'd felt when he'd realized that Old Nan's tales were anything but. That a few of them had remained until then and now that all of them were gone broke his heart, but not as much as poor Hodor's fate had.

He'd known Wylis for as long as he could remember. Had grown with him and remembered a time where he spoke and trained with Lyanna, Ned, and him. Wylis had been a part of his previous life and his loss affected Benjen's cold heart as much as Ned's did. He sincerely hoped he didn't suffer much, for he was a gentle man with giant's blood who didn't deserve the fate he had been given.

The cave was surprisingly neat, with no sign of the massacre that had taken place there. Only the remains of the man still tied up in the roots stood out, the cold having preserved Bloodraven's body and if it wasn't for the gash he could see in his torso, he would say he was simply sleeping. It made him wonder how come the Night King hadn't raised him back?

"Because he was useless at this point." Benjen instantly put his sickle out to protect himself from a potential enemy and gasped as he saw the one who had talked to him.

"Welcome, Benjen Stark. I have been waiting for you."

Winterfell 303 AC.

Jon.

He found her kneeling down and speaking to Nymeria, his sister's voice not carrying in the wind or the distance between them. Though he didn't need to hear the words she said nor to imagine what they were and so he called Ghost to him and the white wolf was soon by his side. With no true words spoken between them and with Jon just kneeling and looking into those all-knowing red eyes, he reached out and stroked Ghost under the chin and then rose back to his feet. When she saw him Arya smiled and together they watched both wolves as they gathered the pack that Nymeria was the leader of and walked out the gates. Eyes closed, he was soon in Ghost as they ran across the field, their destination far ahead of them and their mission one that he knew they would see done.

"We should go back inside, Little Sister, it's getting cold." he said when Arya walked over to him, the shiver she made as she did so was enough to show him that she'd been out here some time.

"Aye, we should." Arya said before taking a last look at the gate and following him back into the keep.

They strolled through the keep together, Jon eager to go to his room and read more of his mother's journal, and Arya he knew would stop off and speak to Sansa before doing whatever it was she did when she was alone. She was still a mystery to him in that regard, guarding her privacy as truly as she did their brother and sister and he wondered did even Bran know what it was she got up to at times. Jon knew he could find out if he wished or that Rickon could, as his brother's gift for warging was far superior to his own and he'd even begun teaching Arya how to do so. Neither of them would seek her out without her consent though, she like them, deserved things that were for her and her alone.

"Is it what you truly want, Jon?" she asked him when they reached his room, the same question she'd asked him more than once since Rickon had surprised them all in the Great Hall.

"You know it is, Arya. More than anything I've ever wanted I believe, If she'll have me then Aye, I want to marry her." he said and saw her nod.

"Of course she'll have you, why wouldn't she." Arya said firmly and he embraced her before kissing her forehead.

When they were children she was the only one he could ever truly do that with. He and Robb were boys and of an age, both of them thinking themselves older and less in need of such things than they truly were. His time with Rickon and Bran was limited and should Lady Stark ever see him embracing one of them then it would not have gone down well. As for Sansa, his other sister had begun pulling away from him as soon as she was old enough to know what a bastard was, and before that she'd always been the apple in Lady Stark's eye, his time with her was because of it the most limited of all. It had been him and Arya, the two of them taking comfort in each other and he the one she sought out first and foremost in that regard.

"You'll go to Sansa?" he asked when he let her go, Arya nodding and then looking up to him with questioning eyes "I'll consider it." he said as he answered her unspoken question.

After bidding her goodbye, for now, he entered the room and moved to where he'd hidden his mother's journal and what he now knew was truly her maiden cloak. He'd not truly understood what it had meant when he'd held it in his arms before, content instead to just feel something close to his skin that she'd worn even once. It was really reading in the journal that proved the truth to words spoken by Bran and even by Rhaegal. His mother and father had loved each other, they'd wed and he was the result of that love. He had been wanted, wished for, welcomed, and though the gods had seen fit to deny him a mother's presence or a father's guidance, they'd at least seen fit to gift him that. The words he now read as he lay on his bed were proof enough for him.

He sang to him tonight, a song I'd not heard before and one that brought tears to my eyes not just because of its melody but because he sang it to our babe.

I wake up at night and find my husband speaking to our son, telling him of his brother and sister and the world they'll build together. The hope he has in his heart for all that he'll become is one I share and one I dream of when I close my eyes.

Today I felt him kick for the first time, my little wolf who is a dragon.

I fear for him, for my son. My dreams are filled with nightmares of what happened to his brother and sister. The thoughts that anyone could do that to such a sweet girl as Rhaenys and to the babe in the crib that Aegon was are ones that I find myself thinking about far too often. I would gladly accept poor Elia's fate if the gods would guarantee me that my son would not suffer his sibling's, but there is no Weirwood here and I fear my prayers may go unanswered.

I know now that I'll not see him grow or watch him become the man he is meant to be. My time draws close to an end and now I only have two prayers left in me. Let him be safe, protect him from those that will do him harm, and give him a life, a good life even if it was not the one he should have lived. Let me see him and hold him even but once, let me kiss my son and then take me if you must.

As always he ended the night with tears in his eyes and unable to read anymore. The earlier pages were filled with hope and happiness and yet those too brought him only sadness. Jon finding the knowledge that the promise those early pages were filled with was never to be realized to be just as tragic as the despairing words his mother wrote in the later ones. He tried to place himself at the Tower of Joy, to put himself in her shoes, and found he could not. Instead, as he dreamt that night it was to another place and another time he was taken, and when he woke the next morning it was his father's words that were on his lips.

"Lyanna." he said softly, the last words he believed his father ever uttered as he lay dying at the Trident, and long after he broke his fast and sparred, he did so hating that Robert Baratheon had been welcomed so fondly by his uncle into these halls.

The supplies had arrived from the Stoney Shore and Jon was not alone in welcoming them. Just seeing how much Olenna had sent from the Reach and knowing that she and Dany would be looked at differently because of it, was a bright spot in an otherwise dark day. He left it to Sansa to see to their storage, the food not for them but for the armies to come and once it was in the process of being put away, he then made his way to see to the defenses of the keep.

Later that night he stormed out from the Crypts and made his way to the Godswood, only stopping when he got there to make sure that Bran was not there and happy to find he was not. He'd had mixed feelings all day about Howland Reed's arrival, more so than he had about the arrival of the Lords of the Vale and so he'd been glad enough to not need to speak to one of those at least. As for the other, they'd behaved just as he'd expected. Lord Royce angrily demanded justice for a man who deserved none.

"How are we to know that the tale you tell is the true one." Lord Royce shouted loudly.

"You name my sister a liar?" Arya asked angrily and Royce was lucky that he didn't answer that particular question.

"My sister was kidnapped, Lord Royce, I need no other words than her own to name it so, but my brother who was the one to bring her back here can answer more to it should her word not be enough for you." Rickon said firmly.

"A sister and brother who may have had their own motives is no proof, your grace." one of the knights called out.

"Then what is?" he asked.

"A trial needs to be held, Lord Snow, one to judge Lady Sansa's guilt or innocence." Lord Royce demanded and Jon nodded to Sansa who stood up and looked to the Lord of Runestone and the Knights of the Vale.

"I demand Trial by Combat and name my brother Jon as my champion." Sansa said firmly and as he looked out at the faces of the Knights of the Vale he needed not to study them too closely to know that not one of them would stand against him.

Yet now as he stood looking up at the great Weirwood it was not the idiots from the Vale he was thinking of, it was the man from the Neck, Howland Reed. It was the conversation if you could name it such that they'd had, that Jon was now reconsidering. He'd been harsh, very harsh, and probably too harsh if he really thought about it. The man getting more than his fair share of the blame for what his uncle's lie of omission had meant to Jon's life than mayhap he deserved.

Rickon's words rang out in his head and the conversation he'd had with his brother about Howland Reed helping him when he'd warged and ran desperately to make sure Jon was safe was something he should have brought up with the man. He owed him thanks for that and for sending his son and daughter to Winterfell all those years ago and yet he'd led with his own grievances and placed many that were not on Howland's part at his door regardless. After resolving to speak to the man on the morrow, Jon made his way back to the keep and again to his room, his night's routine about to begin again as he lit the candle and took out the book before laying down on his bed.

Fate stole his apology from him the next morning, or to be more precisely the urge to go and speak to Rhaegal who had landed in the Wolfswood, did. So after breaking his fast and making sure that all those present knew of their own tasks, he told a white lie and with a look to his brother to show that Rickon had understood it and a smile to Sansa to let her know all was well after the night before, he made his way out from the keep and walked alone to the Wolfswood. The solitary nature of his walk allowed him even more time to think and he knew he'd need to tell Sansa soon. He'd put it off for too long already and though he believed she was on their side now, he'd used that as an excuse for why he'd not spoken when in truth it was not the reason. He felt she'd think politically and while he needed someone to do so, he was not ready for that to be how people saw his truth just yet. For now, he had someone else to speak to and he smiled when he saw the Green Dragon waiting for him.

"You've been well, eaten?" he said softly and heard the dragon's trill as he stroked its head "Aye we'll fly soon, tonight when it's dark." he said to an even louder trill from Rhaegal as he then leaned his head against his own.

He stood with the Green Dragon for some time and then with a last look he bid him Farewell, the final words he spoke to Rhaegal bringing out the biggest trill of all.

"Īlon'll ūndegon aōha muña se lēkias aderī. Pār īlon'll mirre sōvegon hēnkirī, nyke kivio." (We'll see your mother and brothers soon. Then we'll all fly together, I promise.).

How he knew how to speak the language of dragons was a mystery to him. He believed it was because of the bond that he and Rhaegal shared, that the warging that he knew now he'd been experiencing with the Green Dragon, had tapped into something deep inside and allowed the words to come from his lips as if he had spoken Valyrian all his life. True, he spoke it with a Northern burr and until he said the words themselves he knew not what they meant, but it had made him consider whether or not he'd be able to only speak them with Rhaegal or could he do so with Dany too.

Was the fact that he had now accepted who he was partly the reason too? Or was it the gods at work in their own mysterious ways? They were questions that may never be answered and so for now he just accepted it and as he watched Rhaegal fly off, he turned to walk back to the keep. His arrival was expected or anticipated or perhaps just waited on. Jon saw Davos standing as if he was seeking him out and when he saw him walk into the courtyard, the knight came running towards him, or as close to running as Davos now did.

"A raven Jon, from Queen Daenerys." Davos said holding said raven's scroll in his hand and Jon looked at it and the man curiously.

"Has my brother read this?" he asked to a nod from the older man.

"Aye. He bid me find you and give it to you and you alone, Jon."

He took the scroll when offered and opened it up to read, the words that were written there bringing a smile and then a frown to his face.

To the King in the North,

My armies and I are set to depart on the morrow and should arrive in White Harbor before the week is done. We stand ready to fight by the side of the North in the wars to come and ask for leave for Lord Snow to be named as Commander of both your own and our own forces as he is a man that mine own will gladly accept their orders from. We have much to discuss King Rickon, many things we need resolved and I bring with me an offer that I hope you will accept. I look forward to seeing the North again, to speaking to you and your sisters. I hope that you and your family are well and I pray that your brother has managed to keep out of harm's way. For I have much to discuss with the commander too and many questions that only he can answer.

Queen Daenerys Targaryen,

Queen in the South.

His first thought was that she was coming and that he'd see her soon and then his thoughts were on the offer that Rickon and the North had for her and the offer that she said she was bringing to them. He wondered if they were the same and If not, then what was she to offer them. Quickly though he felt his nervousness rise and his worries threaten to overwhelm him. How would she react to his truth? What it would mean for what had been growing between them and whether or not she'd accept or reject the thoughts of being wed to someone like him all fighting for prominence in his thoughts.

"Relax lad, if the letter worries you so then remember we're about to fight an army of dead men and we're all probably fucked." Davos said before bursting out laughing, Jon joining in and reaching out to pat the man on the back.

"Aye, you have the right of it. Come, we've to make sure we're prepared to welcome a queen and the largest army the North has ever seen." he said and as he walked with Davos into the keep, he did so without noticing the look on the face of Bran as he sat watching them do so.

The North 303 AC.

Nymeria.

It had been just as he'd said, her bonded was who she had once been and the joy she felt at finally seeing her again after all these years was one that was shared. Seeing her brother again only made that even more so and despite his quietness, he'd made it clear that he felt the same too. Both of them shared in their grief and finally mourned together for those they'd lost while at the same time being joyful at what they'd found.

He'd shared with her how his own bond had finally been fulfilled and that hers too would be formed truly in time. Something that had begun to happen far more quickly than she'd expected. It was just the beginnings of it, the first reaching out of it and it was far from what her brother shared with his own bonded or what she'd shared with her wild brother's bonded just briefly. Yet it was the promise of it, the idea of it that she welcomed and the time she'd spent with her bonded that she had longed for which made her feel fulfilled.

Her pack was well cared for, left to do as they must, and though some of the two foots were wary of them, none gave them any issue and so she took no issue with those around her. Some of the younger ones were wary about being so close to the den full of two foots but they welcomed the warmth of the old tower and being out of the wind, as well as the food that they were given when they had not been hunting.

It was her quiet brother who came to her first, long before her bonded did. His bond with his own bonded was enough to show him what her bonded would wish to do. She'd argued with him, told him they should not and had been shown images of their soft sister and how were she here, she'd not be soft in this regard. So when her bonded came to her and told her what she wished for her to do, she received no argument or doubt and soon enough she was moving south once more.

Her quiet brother had joined her and she welcomed his presence and the comfort of not being alone in doing what needed to be done. She shared with him the worries she had about her pack and he showed her how to protect them, his cunning, something that they'd need if they were to do as they were bid and do so without losing any of those with them. Were it just her quiet brother and herself, then she was sure they could do so without any true danger, but they needed her pack and so it was them she worried about.

They reached the camp at nightfall and the smell of two foots was overpowering. She comforted those who knew these two foots were not the same as the ones they'd left behind and showed the others this was true while her quiet brother did what he did best and snuck unnoticed into the camp. It was at his call that she and the pack came and they arrived to find none awake. The pack moved quietly to each of the two foots before she howled loudly and the slaughter began. Their steel arms lay unused as necks were torn apart and the smell of their blood filled the air. Some who had woken and ran soon found no respite in the darkness of the night.

It was the one though, the one who'd laid hands on her soft sister's bonded, the one who had managed to find his steel arm and who she feared would harm her pack that she moved to. She watched as he raised the steel arm in warning and as her pack growled menacingly at him. One of them almost threatened to break ranks and attack and it took all she had to hold him back. Her worry for him was not unfounded as even she'd have trouble getting past the steel arm the man held.

Again it was the quiet brother who offered her comfort. His silent steps allowed him to come up on the two-foot from behind. With a look to her and then a leap he was on the two-foot and the steel arm had fallen to the ground. She moved quickly to join him and then bid the pack do likewise, all of them finding some piece of the two-foot to sink their teeth in and she and her quiet brother leading them to do what they'd come here for. This two-foot had tried to harm her other pack, so now she, her quiet brother, and her pack would see he harmed no one else. His screams soon grew silent and were replaced by her howls and the howls of the pack she ran with. Her quiet brother looked on almost proudly and then she watched as he picked up the two foot's metal arm and moved it to a different place far from the two-foot, the look in his eyes enough to tell her that their work here was done.

North, back to the North, back to her bonded, and back where she belonged. Her old pack was smaller than it was meant to be. Wolves of both sorts were no longer here, but the pack she'd gathered, the pack that remained would be as strong as it was before, stronger her quiet brother said, and as she felt another piece of the bond grow between her and her bonded, who was she to disagree.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next Dany leads an army North, Jon and Rhaegal both feel the call of their blood. Reunions lead to revelations and negotiations take place about a match. Jon finally meets with someone who can answer the questions he has and tell him things about his parents that no one else can. Meanwhile, Bran is not best pleased with the turn of events and takes action to set things back to the path he's chosen.

Sibeaal: Sorry missed this in my last answers. I'm glad you like the talking to animals part, it's obviously only the wargs who can do it and we wished to give them a voice somewhat. I am a big fan of the Witcher and Roach.

Daryl Dixon: So glad you liked it.

Heir of Rohan: I think it's the only way to logically explain Bran in any way shape or form, his actions or inaction costs so much and things like telling Sam to tell Jon at the moment he does or that whole BS about "That's they I came or You were where you were supposed to be" the only explanations for them is that he manipulated things. In some regard, he's the boy who wished to be remembered and honored and then wasn't and so he decided to take what wasn't his. So that's partly what's going on here and the whole power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely thing too.

With Sansa, I think a bit like Bran she suffers because of poor execution. Sansa in the books is learning how to play the game and I can see her ending up where she does in the show, only without the sympathetic slant they tried to give her regarding Ramsay and her suffering. She'll in my eyes be more villainous in that she'll have no excuse for the things she does or no defense from those who usually do so with cries of She suffered as if others have not and as if that's a defense for screwing over her family. I think she'll end up alone and bitter, but with a crown. In time realizing that she's screwed over all those who may have cared about her, which will be her true lesson. But at least in the books that will come across as a conscious choice and so while she may be villainous, she'd be understandable because of it. We can accept someone being a villain after all. What we can't accept is someone doing bad things and the writers retconning other actions or having characters tell us that they are right, we're not fools, we can good and bad, right and wrong. What Sansa does from the moment she reaches Castle Black is to lie and manipulate someone who would naturally be on her side, that's wrong, no matter what way you cut it.

Here we're giving her a reality check early which allows for her to come out the other side and be a more balanced character we feel.

Nagiten: For me, it's the dragons. I like to think that the gods put Bloodraven and Bran there to help Jon do what needed to be done, thinking Kin would help only to find that they chose badly. He does and doesn't, he dreamt they were not but does he know they were not? So while yes at heart he knows they were not the last words, in truth he can doubt himself and think he's only wishing they were not. We'll see with Viserion, and yep Bran is looking at Tyrion. The bow was aimed at the horse, not Sansa, LF would not risk killing her, but he'd not allow her to escape.

I always felt that the whole thing with Bran is such a cop-out, people ignore how creepy he is, how little he helps and how much he literally says "I'm Not Bran, not Anymore" so when you have those who knew him before ignoring certain things, it's dumb. Jon would know Bran's tells from when he was a kid and emotionless as he is, some would remain. Also as you say being linked with Ghost helps. The hound is awesome at times, he has no filter lol. Tormund may be luckier than you think.

Mickiblue: It bugs the hell out of me that it was simply dropped, they literally have Tyrion spell it out to Dany before leaving Meereen, then never bring it up again so they can do their forced drama BS. The moment Jon arrives on DS as KITN, it should have been under discussion, hell the moment Jon set off to go to DS and spoke to Sansa, she should have suggested it since she's supposedly so politically astute. It's just terrible writing that it's never brought up and all so they can do their crap-ass storyline later. So one of the key things we wanted here and having Jon go to DS early and Olenna live is to have smart characters look at situations and do the things they'd do in those situations.

Were Willas a thing in the Showverse, Olenna would have sought a marriage right away, so why would she not with someone else in his place? Rickon being alive allows for someone other than Jon to think on those lines also. We'll see with Lyanna and you'll get your wish on one of those other things, this chapter shows which one regarding Jaime.

Guest: We'll see some Bronn/Tyene in a bit.

Suppes: It was about time and there is only so long you can keep him alive before it becomes a joke.

Don't like accts: You've hit on one of my pet peeves with fics in that changes are made and then certain events which could/should be changed are then just made happen anyway. One of the key things I try and do when plotting a fic is to introduce an element of change and see what ripples out from that. Too many people want certain canon events to happen and so we get the RW all the time or Ned losing his head, for me, I like to have those events happen before the change is introduced so that while they affect the story, they're not forced to happen in a situation where they should not. Here for example Dorne happened before the events take place, so it has to be acknowledged, but Olenna hadn't died yet and so it could be changed.

Rickon is the key element of change, it all spreads out from him which is why when my co-writer came up with the idea, I was so keen on it. Rarely do we get to see him live. As for Jon/Dany, well Season 8 and even somewhat earlier were not the true versions of either of them IMO.

You're hitting some of the notes on Bran/Rickon, I won't/can't tell you how many you've hit perfectly but some of them you're spot on with.

Celexys: I'm with you completely on Bran, he's perhaps my least favorite character out of all, the show made him dull and uninteresting but even in the books he's just not someone I can enjoy reading. I've also said that was Jaime's true crime, he didn't push hard enough lol. Glad you liked the interactions between Jon and the family, we see more here, and Bran is kind of being pushed even more to the side.

I think the Hound/Tormund could be friends, the Hound saved him when they were stuck on the Ice and I think they could bond over fighting, Tormund would annoy him of course, but he'd like him all the same. We have more plans for Sansa, as you see she's closer to her family now here and seems to have learned her lessons, she's still a way to go but is on the right path. We really wanted it to be her who killed LF, I know some may wish for a different death, but it felt right to us that it be Sansa. She who passes the sentence swings the sword so to speak.

Rhatch: So very glad you liked it.

Kingmanena: That was a key thing, for her to do it a little brutally and you see how the North has responded to it. Jon's truth is about to be revealed to one and all. Arya got it here and Sansa is coming soon. I think had Bran said something negative towards Jon's mother, he'd have struck him, he may very do so before the story is done. The hound so does deserve some chicken.

Lawkeeper; We went over numerous ways to kill LF and that funny enough was one of them, as was having the wolves do it, but I did that in another fic. We wanted it to be Sansa for the She who passes the Sentence bit, plus to make the North look at her differently but mainly because it really should be her who kills him given all he's done. That's the thing Booksansa is learning the lessons and will become a dangerous player of the game, she'll perhaps do the same things she did in the show only far more calculating and without the Ramsay story to make her sympathetic. We may dislike or even hate her for it, but she'll be a better character because of it. The Show tried to make her a heroine and her actions were justified because she suffered, which she did, but so did everyone else.

Here she's needed to learn that she was trusting the wrong people and going about things the wrong way, that she's in the North not the South and She's part of a pack and not a lone wolf, that's what her arc has been leading to.

That clip from the show always makes me want to see Jon push the chair and see Bran drown. It's a pathetic piece of writing and a further example of just how much they hated the character of Jon Snow and Kit in particular. Jon has literally nothing to apologize to Bran for and Bran on the other hand has numerous things he should. So yes this was a bit cathartic for me too. Rickon is the key to so much, to show the changes he brings and to have him both act a king and more mature than he is and to yet be a kid at the same time. We'll see Ned Dayne Properly in a bit, we're only getting mentions of him as of yet, but we will see a pov and a big scene of him and Jon and Dawn.

Vwchik: So very glad you liked it. It had to be Sansa we felt.

Jayod: Very much so, the North Remembers and all that, plus it brought her closer to her family too, which is even more important.

IB: So happy you liked it.

Dunk: It so would, the one thing the show never addresses is why the North would ever look to Sansa, we saw it in how Lyanna Mormont reacted to her when they met and they were trying to gather men to take back WF. Sansa was literally the Stark who looked to the South more than any other, everything about her is the complete opposite of the words that the Greatjon Spoke when naming Robb KITN, yet it's never even brought up. Here her killing of LF, that she did so herself and got blood on her hands, that's huge and as you see has already brought her favor.

We'll see with Jaime. Bran is doing exactly that and that's s key point in things, him being what he should not be is important to the plot. With Rickon there are some hidden things going on too, he's maturing for a reason, which hopefully our explanation of will make sense but we're trying to show that he can be mature in certain aspects and yet still have this childish side too. I hope to update Purple Deception, Honor so High and Live as a wolf this week, that's my plans anyway, at least 2 of those for certain.

Lady Octarina: That was my thoughts exactly, while using the wolves would have been fun, I've done it before and it would seem to be repeating myself. So my co-writer and I decided to go with it being Sansa as it's both fitting and such a key point in her character development. She needed to know she was cared for and worried about and the North needed to know there is a northern lady inside. Sandor does care about her too, so it felt right to make it be him. In Brienne's defense she still has issues that she's not good enough and so she took it that way, more so than it not being true.

It bugged me that no one can see Bran's lies or half-truths, he's not that smart or clever, and with Jon linked and bonded to Ghost (something that maybe Bran didn't want) it allows for him to feel what Ghost feels somewhat. When you then add it in that for once Jon is actually looking for such things, that his time with Olenna and his worries about Dany, Rickon, etc, make him consider people's intent, it allows for him to see through Bran somewhat.

Oh, I'm so with you on that about the animals. Hell Ned's first instinct is to kill the wolves, let that sink in for a moment. The sigil of his house and he's willing to kill them right away so yep, to him they were simply large puppies, and so there was no one to educate the Starks in what they truly were. It's partly why different upbringings create such interesting dynamics with the Starks. Like Arya raised in Bear Island or Robb in White Harbor, Sansa in Highgarden as I did in TDC, it changes them and allows them to grow differently.

The Jon raised by Barbrey is sort of for that dynamic too, he'll be raised as a proper Northerner which will be and forgive the pun, a stark contrast from those at WF.

Wrysenseofhumour: Sorry to hear that, hope you get a new one soon.

It is so lazy to get a character to act how you want to fit the plot rather than set it up so that the plot and characters work in consort. I may not always get it right, but compared to the idiots who wrote the show, at least they behave in character. Which is all I truly ask for.

So very glad you got the part about the privates and LF's business, it just seemed too good to resist. As did having Sansa be the one who did it given what he'd put her through with Ramsay. I find it hard to not think that Jon wouldn't be doubtful of Bran given the setting. I tried to explain the show versions as best I could here, but it's a hard thing to do.

You've hit the nail on the head with Bran, you can see it somewhat here in Benjen's pov too, but the none acceptance of his fate is a key part of Bran's arc.

Scarilla: Exactly, so glad you saw it that way with LF. You got your wish belatedly with Arya here.

Xan Merrick: Thank you, my friend, so glad you enjoyed it.