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

18. On This Our Wedding Day

Winterfell 304 AC.

Baelon.

He was on his way to speak to Davos when she found him, her worried look taking him aback for a moment and the fact she could barely speak to him, quickly making his own worry grow. Taking her by the hand, he led her to a nearby room and bid her tell him what concerned her so. Missandei took a deep breath before she could speak the words and Baelon did his best to offer her a reassuring look, even though he himself didn't feel that reassured.

"My queen, she's not herself, Baelon, she's shown an upset that I know not from whence it came." Missandei said softly, her concern for Dany clear.

"How long?" he asked.

"An hour, two." Missandei said, frowning.

"Did something happen? Did one of these fuckers say something to her?" he asked angrily and he was glad that Missandei knew it was not her he was directing that anger towards.

"I do not know, I don't believe so. We went to the Godswood, as my queen wished to see it for herself and she spoke to…"

"Bran, she spoke to Bran?" Baelon said, holding back his snarl and looking on as Missandei nodded nervously "I'll speak to the queen, Missandei, get to the bottom of this. She'll be well, I promise." he said and he saw the relief that his words brought and together they hurried to Dany's rooms.

For now, he let worry be all he felt, worry and determination to clear up that worry. Soon he knew that the anger that he felt building within him would need to be released, but for now, it was better that he kept that in check, or as much in check as he could. It was a hard thing to do when they reached Dany's rooms and he saw both Ser Jorah and Grey Worm standing there with their own concerns clear on their faces.

"She's asked not to be disturbed." Jorah said looking to him, Baelon though could tell by that look that he'd not stop him from entering the room and that he'd actually wish him to, though it was Missandei who spoke and not he.

"She'll wish to see Baelon, Ser Jorah." the young woman said softly.

"Aye…"

He heard no more words that were spoken as he opened the door and entered the room. The sight he was greeted with was one that almost broke his heart. Dany lay almost curled up in a ball on the bed, she was hugging a pillow tightly to her stomach and it was clear that not only had she been crying, but she'd cried herself out. Baelon tried not to let the sounds of her stifled sobs get to him, fighting down the anger he knew that a boy he'd named as his brother once was the reason for those sobs. For now, it was Dany and only Dany that he focussed on and he could deal with Bran and would soon enough.

"Dany, Dany." he almost whispered, his footsteps soft and his movements careful as if he was afraid to startle her.

When he looked at her, he saw how she hugged the pillow a little tighter and refused to look at him. He moved closer and heard the loud exhale of her breath when he took his seat on the bed beside her. She then shuddered and tried to move from him when he placed his hand on her shoulder and it caused him to take his hand away, briefly.

"Dany, I'm here my love, I'm here." he said and his words only made the sobs begin again.

He was lost and felt this was beyond him. Never before had he been the one to comfort someone truly and so he was not experienced in doing so. Baelon worried that anything he did or said would make things worse and yet he knew that he had to do something and so he moved further onto the bed and lay down beside her. His arms wrapped around her and he moved the pillow gently away and though she at first moved from him when he wouldn't allow her to do so, she then moved back into his embrace.

"Dany, I'm here, I'm here." he said as his hands softly rubbed her arms and he kissed her neck.

How long they lay there, he couldn't tell, but he felt her still and then relax, and then she drifted off to sleep. She had exhausted herself, the sobbing, the hurt she was feeling, it had all taken so much out of her that she had exhausted herself and sleep had come not because she wished it or even because of his presence, but simply because of that. Her continued sleep though was because of him being there, as each time she woke, he spoke softly to her and told her that he was there and he was going nowhere.

At what time she woke and got out of the bed or how long she'd been up when he noticed it, was something he'd never know. Only that when he himself woke up it was to find her standing by the window and looking out at the darkened night's sky. He hurried from the bed and moved to her, his arms going around her, and once again he felt her move back into his embrace. When his fingers began to brush through her hair and caress her cheek, he heard a contented sigh and then she moved from him and he looked at her in confusion.

"Dany?"

"We cannot be, I see that now." she said without looking at him "I...I cannot bear children, Baelon, I cannot give you a child."

The sound of her sobs did more to him than the words she spoke, Baelon moving to her and turning her to face him before pulling her tight to his chest. He felt each shudder that she made and then heard her surprised gasp when he lifted her from the ground and carried her to the bed. Once there he softly laid her down and again climbed in beside her, this time the two of them laying face to face and his hand brushed away her tears before softly caressing her cheek.

"Talk to me, tell me what it is that ails you so, let me help, Dany, please, let me help." he said and she shook her head and tried to move from him but he wouldn't allow her to.

Why he kissed her, he knew not, only that it stopped her moving from him, and instead she moved closer to him. He felt her hunger, her need, and it was one he shared and yet after some time, she moved from him once more.

"We can't…"

"Why can't we? Who says we can't?" he asked hoping his raised voice didn't scare her or force her from him.

"I cannot give you a son, Baelon, I cannot further our line. You and I….you're the only one who can see that our House doesn't fall…"

"Dany…speak to me, I beg of you. I understand this not, speak to me, make me understand." he said and she looked at him and nodded.

It took her some time to tell him the tale and though he so very much wished to concentrate on the very last part of it, the part where she said that Bran had made her see why they could never be, he knew he needed to deal with the first part before then. A witch had told her that she was cursed, she'd made her believe that she'd never bring forth a child and though she'd hidden it deep within herself, the thing that had once been his brother had used it to drive a wedge between them. Was he not so angered at Bran and worried about Dany, then he'd almost give the fucker credit for seeing what he wished done.

"I died, Dany. My brother died. Yet my heart beats still." he said taking her hand and placing it on his chest "I swore on oath that I'd wear no crowns, hold no lands, win no glory. That I'd take no wife and father no children and though I did so not knowing my truth, I did so willingly."

"Baelon, I…"

"Words are wind, Dany, that's all they are, wind. Mine spoken in front of a heart tree beyond the Wall, that thing that is no longer my brother's or a witch's in Essos. They are nothing more than wind and you and I, we're dragons, when has wind ever stopped us from flying high?" he said as he leaned forward and placed a kiss on her lips, a soft almost featherlike touch before he moved away from her and smiled when he saw her move with him.

"I don't understand." she said confused.

"I love you, do you love me?" he asked.

"Baelon…"

"Do you love me?"

"You know I do."

"Do you want to be my wife?" he asked staring into her eyes.

"Baelon, we can…" he placed his finger on her lips and bid her answer him "I want to be your wife."

"Then fuck a witch's words or the words of a cunt that wishes to break us apart. Rickon told me that Bran seeks us not to be wed, Bran told me so myself, he made up some horseshit that wasn't worth my time to listen to and he's long since past being someone whose counsel I heed. I was dead and now I'm not, I was a bastard and now I'm not. You were once a scared little girl and now you've very much not. Imagine what we can do together, Dany, you and I, just close your eyes and imagine it." he said and when she did not, he closed them for her, enjoying the sound of her giggle as he did so.

He looked at her face and could see the expressions change and so he moved to her and brought his lips to her ear.

"We've done so much apart, achieved so much. There is nothing we cannot do together, Dany. No curse we cannot break, no army we cannot defeat, and no obstacle that we cannot overcome. I want you to be my wife, you and only you and together we'll bring more dragons into the world. Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion will not be the only children you have Dany, not a witch, not Bran Stark, not the Night King himself will prove me wrong in this. Do you believe me?"

"Yes." she said softly.

"Will you marry me?" he said and she opened her eyes as she nodded.

"Yes, Yes, a thousand times yes." she said and he moved to kiss her, feeling her arms wrap tightly around him as he did so.

She wished to lay with him as he did her and yet he would not. Instead, he held her in his arms and spoke to her as she drifted off to sleep. His words were of their wedding, of wishing it to be held as soon as it could be and of the night they'd share once it was. He made her laugh when she asked him if he was truly so eager for them to be wed and to be abed and his answer showed that he was. As she finally slept, he moved from the bed and made his way to the door, quietly so as not to wake her.

"She's better, Missandei, you should go get your own sleep. I'll speak more to you later, but know that she's better and that she'll be grateful to see you on the morrow," he said to a relieved nod and then he was surprised when the woman hugged him before leaving.

The next morning when she woke, it was to find him already awake and looking down at her. He kissed her once more and laughed when she said that she liked being awakened that way and then he heard the knock on the door and opened it to allow Missandei inside.

"Her grace has much she wishes to be done, Missandei, a wedding that needs to be prepared for and one we wish to have most quickly." he said and he found it hard to tell which of them smiled most truly, Dany or Missandei.

"Then most quickly it shall be." Missandei said as he moved to kiss Dany on the cheek and told her that he'd be back later.

Walking from the room, he did so without a smile on his face, and the peacefulness and contentment he'd known but moments earlier were now gone. Instead, it was anger and a sense of purpose that he felt as he moved through the keep and walked out through the main doors and into the courtyard. He was surprised to see him sitting in the chair where he was and had expected it would be the Godswood he'd find him in and yet it suited him far better that he was here. Around him the courtyard was full and he barely heard it when Tormund called out his name or noticed it when Ghost ran to his side, so focussed was he on the boy in the wheeled chair and what he wished to do to him.

He believed he saw a smile on Bran's face, a small smirk that may have been unnoticeable to some and yet very much was not to Baelon. Seeing it only inflamed his anger which was already begging to be let loose and so loose it, he did. Baelon moved to the wheeled chair, his steps purposeful and quick and his intent clear to any who knew him well. Standing in front of this thing that had once been his brother, he took a breath, and the moment he heard Bran's voice, he acted.

"Jon I…"

The hand moved to Bran's neck so quickly that it stopped him in mid-word. Baelon lifted him from the chair one-handed and kicked the chair down to the ground, before bringing around his other hand in a backhanded slap, it would not be the last slap that he struck him with and each one of them was punctuated by angry words as he began to beat the crippled thing with no intention of ever stopping.

"I fucking warned you!"

"I told you what would fucking happen if you interfered in my life again!"

"You think I believe your fucking lies!"

"That I'd allow you to spout them to her!"

"Did you see this in your fucking future? DID YOU!"

Again and again, he struck Bran, his hand crashing into his face and the blood beginning to splatter onto him from here he'd broken the skin. Around him people looked on in shock and in his head he saw images of Ramsay Bolton and the beating he'd given to him after the Battle of the Bastards.

"You think you can manipulate me? Make me see what you want me to see? I fucking told you what I'd do should you try. So call your fucking ravens Bran, call them and see if they can save you or stop you from getting what you fucking deserve!"

He knew he was shouting, that his words rang around the courtyard and that soon people would come to stop him from actually killing this thing that had been his brother once. Before then though he'd ensure that the message was sent loud and clear and that the next time the Three-Eyed Raven thought to play with his life, he'd reconsider before he did so.

"Baelon!"

"Baelon!"

Ser Davos' voice called out and Baelon barely heard it. He did hear the men from the Riverlands as they moved towards him and so he took the hand that he had been beating Bran with and drew Longclaw before turning and facing them.

"You do not want to interfere with me!" he said loudly and the men looked back to where their liege lord stood and then hesitated, even more so when Ghost moved and stood between Baelon and them.

Around the courtyard men and women looked on as he lifted Bran even higher in the air, the bloodied face clear for all to see and for the briefest moment, Baelon thought about driving Longclaw into Bran's chest. It was the sound of his sister, his brother, Arya, and Rickon running to him, and then it was the feel of Tormund's arms as they wrapped around him and the words he spoke to him that more than likely stayed his hand.

"He's not worth it, Jon Snow, you've done enough." Tormund said and Baelon looked from Tormund to Bran and to Rickon and Arya who'd been joined by Sansa before he then dropped Bran to the ground and moved away.

"Someone see to that." he said, his voice full of disdain and he spat down barely missing the crumpled form that now lay on the ground. "Next time no one will stop me, remember that well before you look to me or mine again."

He walked away and past his brother and sisters, a small nod of his head to let them know that he had calmed and he knew that he'd have questions to answer later. Baelon was thankful that while Sansa looked shocked and worried, Rickon and Arya did not and even Sansa seemed torn between Bran and himself. By the time he reached the doors that led into the keep, Missandei, Grey Worm and Jorah stood there, and not one of them looked at him with any doubt or concern, Missandei even offering him a warm smile and a nod as he passed her and headed back to Dany's rooms.

He felt Ghost when he joined him and after finally sheathing Longclaw, he looked to his hand to see the blood that it was covered in, none of it his and it brought a smile to his face that he wore even when he entered Dany's rooms. She lay resting in the bed and so he moved to the bowl of water and began to wash his hands, taking a seat beside her, he then spent the next few hours just looking at her as she slept and waiting for her to wake so they could speak and he could know that she was feeling well.

Later he spoke to his brother and sisters and told them what Bran had done and why he'd beaten him so severely, only Sansa raising an objection and that not for the reasons he would have expected. When it was suggested to him that he take Davos to Cape Wrath as he'd planned to do days earlier, he'd told them, no, only to have Dany too make the same suggestion. Time away from the keep and doing something where he didn't need to be reminded of Bran and what he did, was what he needed, Dany had said and so reluctantly he agreed and did as he was bid.

Winterfell 304 AC.

Sansa Stark.

She had been in tense situations before. She had to stay with a drunk and rambling Cersei during the Battle of the Trident. She had had to break her fast with her Aunt Lysa and Baelish after a night of hearing her Aunt screaming like a banshee on her wedding night. She had to withstand the insufferable meals with the Boltons, when she knew that she would deeply suffer from whatever humiliation would be thrown at her husband by his father afterward.

Yet nothing came close in comparison with the uncomfortable dinner that was taking place in Rickon's quarters at this very moment. Her little brother was on the verge of exploding, as was her sister, and the unemotional battered face of Bran did nothing to help the situation. Instead, it simply reminded all of them of what happened earlier that day, as did their annoying guest.

"How do you feel, Nephew?" Edmure asked, genuinely concerned for Bran while both Arya and Rickon rolled their eyes, knowing what had caused his current condition.

"I am fine, Uncle, still a little bit shook, but fine."

"Shook. Right." Rickon scoffed.

"I cannot believe that the Ba… he did that to you." Edmure said, shaking his head.

"He's had it coming for a long time. I hope you'll know no to shut your mouth when nobody asks for your council." Rickon said angrily.

"How can you say that?" Edmure exclaimed, looking at Rickon with a horrified expression. "Your brother did nothing wrong!"

"Whose brother are you talking about?" Arya frowned.

"Why, Brandon! He was the one who had been viciously attacked!"

"Because once again he meddled in things he shouldn't have." she retorted and Sansa had to agree. Seeing the distraught face of Daenerys and her almost defeated demeanor was enough for her to know that Bran had all but broken her spirit.

"I must say I am pretty surprised that it didn't come sooner with the way Bran announces… disturbing things to everyone he talks to." Sansa said as she took a sip of her rabbit stew, hoping there would have some meat in it that day.

"So you're not going to defend Bran's honor? This… Baelon or whoever he thinks he is should be punished for his insolence!" Edmure declared as Sansa's hand gripped her bowl while tightly to keep her temper in check.

"What insolence? I had tried to smack some sense into Bran myself. Then I almost got killed by ravens." Rickon shrugged nonchalantly.

"All is well, Uncle. I bear no ill-will to Baelon." Bran said. "I understand his frustration and as my siblings say, I have lost the diplomacy necessary to announce things."

"Look at what he did to you! To his supposed family! And all of you act like it is acceptable? Your Mother would be ashamed of all of you, but especially of you, Rickon." Edmure admonished.

That was the wrong thing to say, especially to her youngest brother, and Sansa dropped her spoon, bracing herself for what was about to come.

"Well, Mother is dead, and if she wasn't, then I wouldn't fucking care about what she thinks about what is fucking acceptable or not!"

"How dare you speak of my sister this way? Has the bastard poisoned your mind against your own mother as he has against your brother?"

"Baelon did nothing of the sort. If anything, your sister is the only one who poisoned my mind against her. She fucking abandoned me and Bran to get herself killed at the fucking Twins!" Rickon snapped.

"She was trying to get her daughters back, and to avenge your father!" Edmure protested.

"What about her sons? What about us?"

"She thought you dead! She mourned you, by the Seven! There was not a time she would not think about you and Bran." Edmure said loudly as he defended his sister.

"Thinking about us is fine, but leaving a boy to rule a keep for moons, moons! Without any news from his mother, that is totally messed up." Rickon retorted.

"Rickon is not wrong." Bran said, to everyone's surprise. "She could have come back, yet she didn't. She was afraid of Robb making the wrong decisions and not following her counsel, so she stayed with him and refused to leave when Robb bid her go back to Winterfell."

"See? Even the prick agrees with me!" Rickon said with a snort.

"She thought you safe at Winterfell, she…"

"She was wrong and it almost cost us our lives." Rickon cut their uncle off harshly.

"That's enough, all of you." Sansa intervened. "Uncle, we know that Mother loved us and that she did her best for us, but to recall her memory will not make us act against Baelon."

"Your Mother always believed that he would cause trouble. And trouble he did cause. He has almost killed your brother has he not?."

"Believe me, Uncle, if Bran would have felt in any danger, he would have -" Rickon started but Bran cut him off, showing annoyance for the first time.

"How many times will I have to say that I didn't mean it, to make you believe me?"

"You tell me. You're the one who sees the future. I bet my fucking hand that you knew what would happen with Jon."

"What are you talking about?" Edmure asked, startled by his nephews' bickering.

"Oh, so you haven't heard yet? I thought you would have tried to get to know your nieces and nephews' reputation before meeting them for the first time." Rickon answered, smirking.

"The second, for me." Arya rectified. "I was the one to give him the key to his cage at the Twins."

"Oh, that's right. So, according to people from the Vale, we are monsters and murderers. All of us. Even sweet Sansa over here." Rickon said with a laugh.

"Especially me, you mean?" she chuckled darkly. "For have I not killed their Liege Lord's Regent and caused our dear cousin to die from anger."

"Robin… Is dead?" Edmure stuttered and Sansa resisted the urge to call him out.

Of course, her dear brother wasn't one for diplomacy, particularly when he disliked someone, and he seemed to despise their uncle greatly. Not that she could fault him on that, since he never acknowledged their existence as far as she was concerned. She could still remember her Uncle Brynden's message brought back to her by Brienne and the disgust she felt at Edmure betraying his kin, long before she had almost betrayed hers.

"You really are a shitty uncle. No offense, but you are." Rickon spat.

"I will not let a green boy talk to me this way!" Edmure replied, understandably offended.

"This green boy as you say is King in the North, Uncle." Sansa reminded him curtly.

"He may be king, but he will never unite the North and the Riverlands as Robb did, not with that attitude!"

This revelation piqued Sansa's interest. The mere notion of it reminded her of Littlefinger's plans. Did Baelish have time to put this silly notion of a union to Edmure before his death? It certainly didn't come from Robin, as since her uncle was so oblivious to his death then he surely had no contact with their other kin.

"What care should I have with the Riverlands, if I have to deal with people the likes of you?" Rickon spat.

"Rickon, please, do not let your anger get the best of you." Bran said placidly.

"Isn't the Riverlands part of the Kingdom of the South, Uncle?" Sansa enquired, hoping to be as subtle as possible.

If the look of embarrassment from Edmure wasn't telling enough, the words he'd uttered next were.

"It was. Before I knew of the Queen's plan to marry a bastard."

The growl that came from Rickon and Arya was expected. The one coming from her, however, startled Sansa a little. Baelon was not a bastard, and should he still be her father's son instead of her aunt, well she had long since gotten over the status given by the name imposed on Jon Snow. He was her brother and had done more for her than some of her trueborn siblings.

"And this would justify you breaking your vows to Queen Daenerys, to risk earning her ire and directing it towards the North and our family in particular?" she asked frostily. "Do you realize the significance and the implication of your actions?"

"Well, you made her accept the North as a separate entity, and she gave the Iron Islands their independence, so one more kingdom -" Edmure began before she interrupted.

"The Iron Islands are a kingdom on its own because of a deal she struck with Asha Greyjoy in exchange for her help and her ships. And the only reason that Daenerys Targaryen is envisioning the North as a principality, and not a kingdom of its own, is because she is marrying our brother!" she retorted, stressing the last words so it could stuck in her uncle's mind. "You know? The one you keep calling a bastard?"

"He is not your brother." Edmure said dismissively.

"Say that again and I swear to the Gods I will fucking gut you where you sit." Rickon warned.

"You would turn against your Uncle, against your family? You would become a kinslayer, all for this bas… for this boy?"

"Try me." Rickon challenged, pulling his dagger out for good measure and making Sansa shiver at the way he crouched over the table, ready to pounce at their uncle should he dare to do so.

Looking around, she could see Arya acting the same, a dagger already in her hand and showing that she was at the end of her patience. As for Nymeria, who was near the door, she had started walking dangerously towards Edmure. Sansa was also enraged by Edmure's comments, but she was not as short-tempered as her siblings and she knew that threatening the Lord Paramount of the Riverlands would not do.

"I don't think you truly understand our ways, Uncle. Baelon is a part of our family. I'm sure you've heard tales about Rickon being brought back to life." she said and ignored the scoff Edmure threw her way. "It is true. All of it. We owe Rickon's life to Baelon because he never gave up on his family and would not accept his death. He has proven many times the true meaning of Family, Duty, and Honor. Can we say the same about you? Or do I need to remind you about what happened to Uncle Brynden when you gave up on him and gave Riverrun to your enemies?"

Her words seemed to have the desired effect, as Edmure hung his head with shame.

"You don't understand. You don't know how it feels to be a prisoner. They tortured me, taunted me with my son, and threatened his life. I had to do what was needed to be done so that we could both survive."

"All of us suffered, Uncle. Some more so than others. We have another chance to be a family, a real one. You and your son are as much family to us as Baelon is. Now is not the time to ask us to choose between you or him, for we shall unite our forces to defeat what is coming for us, and you will be disappointed by the choice made today." Bran suddenly said and she stared at her brother in disbelief. Was he truly defending them? Was he siding with them in choosing Baelon over Edmure?

However strange this intervention was, it had the effect of changing the room's atmosphere. Sansa was about to lose her temper at her uncle's selfishness and took the momentum to rein it in for the moment. Rickon and Arya were equally disturbed by this turn of events, frowning at Bran as if trying to figure out his real motives, and Edmure seemed to ponder his words before sighing loudly.

"I will never think of Baelon Targaryen as family. But you do, and I lost too much of my family to risk losing you, so I will refrain from talking or doing anything against him." her uncle conceded, albeit reluctantly.

"Thank you, Uncle. This is all we ask. Truly." she said, resuming her meal and sighing delightfully as she found a piece of meat.

They ate in an uncomfortable silence and she was glad to see their uncle take his leave and escort Bran to his rooms. She was not in the mood to humor either of them, and she needed to speak to Arya and Rickon about what had almost happened during dinner.

"That went better than expected, given the situation." Arya sighed.

"No thanks to you two. Who the fuck invited Bran tonight?" Sansa asked and frowned when her siblings looked at her in surprise. "What?"

"You just said a bad word, sister mine." Rickon said and she rolled her eyes.

"Well, you do it all the time, and I've been dying to curse Edmure out during dinner, so cut me some slack, will you?" she sighed and continued on her rant. "The nerve of that man. Who does he think he is? 'You don't know how it feels'. Does he know how being battered and raped feels? Does he know how running for his life feels? Has he ever had to look at people that you love and care for as they die before your eyes feels like? He was fucking his wife when the Red Wedding happened and now he thinks he can lecture us about his misery? Nothing he's lived through so far compares to what each one of us had lived through. Being captive. In a cell is a bloody luxury compared to all we've suffered."

"You're starting to speak as a true Northern Lady." Rickon added, smiling wolfishly. "You should have told him exactly what you felt, Sansa."

"I couldn't. Not yet."

"Why?"

"Because I can hold my temper far more easily than you, and yelling at him would be playing right into his hands. It would just give him a reason to hate Jon more than he already did. We have to protect Jon and Dany from any bad reputation or motives that others would see them have. People are wary of Jon now, more so because of what Bran did. It's our role to show them all that the fucker deserved it."

"We should turn Edmure in to Dany for speaking treason." Rickon said.

"We can't. It would be a political nightmare to deal with the execution of the Lord Paramount of the Trident. Both for Jon and for Dany." Sansa said shaking her head before Arya interrupted.

"Then I can -"

"No, there's to be no killing our Uncle while wearing Walder Frey's face, Arya. We can keep an eye on both Bran and on Edmure, and if we think one or both of them are truly conspiring against Jon and Dany, then and only then do we intervene. For now, we do nothing and we try to stay courteous to our dear uncle." she said looking to her siblings, neither of whom seemed eager to listen.

"You're playing politics again, Sansa. You know it always turns nasty when you play politics." Rickon said.

"Who invited Bran tonight? None of you, I suppose?" Sansa asked and both her siblings shook their heads. "This is exactly why I have to play politics again. Bran is up to something. His leaving with Edmure was no coincidence. Can you warg to watch if they're still talking?"

"I can't. He can feel my presence."

"Arya?"

"I can't do it apart from Nymeria." the latter lamented.

"It will come to you, Sister." Rickon said encouragingly while Sansa's heart clenched as she thought about what she could have done if Lady was alive.

Seeing Arya with Nymeria made her incredibly happy for her sister, but it also reminded her of the loss of her companion, and she longed for some of what Rickon, Jon, and Arya had. Sansa truly desired a strong connection with a familiar of her own.

Nymeria came over to her, probably feeling her sadness, and she smiled at the Direwolf while caressing its fur.

"With your leave, brother. Jon's cloak is not ready yet and I want to make sure it is upon his return. Knowing how he is, I am almost certain that the wedding will take place as soon as he lands." she chuckled, making the others laugh wholeheartedly.

She walked back to her rooms with the Hound in tow, grateful that he had not left her side and relieved the obligations of the day were over. Sansa had been working on her brother's cloak with Wylla who had been more than happy to talk to her about her aunt's time in the Tower of Joy. To think that Lyanna had been a free spirit who had still enjoyed sewing and crafting as much as sparring with the Kingsguard and that she was a song and tales enthusiast brought a smile to her face. Her aunt was a sort of perfect mix between Arya and her, and it made her wish she'd gotten to know her, which in turn brought her a kinship with Jon she'd not felt before. She hoped her present to her brother would have would made her happy, and that it would be appreciated.

Winterfell 304 AC.

Melisandre.

She strolled through the camps, looking for any sign of trouble to report to Queen Daenerys and King Rickon. People were getting used to her morning and evening walks and she knew where she could and could not go. She didn't get too close to the Dothraki tents, as they feared her too much because of her use of magic. The men from the Reach looked at her warily, as tales of what she did to Renly circulated once more. As for the Westerlands and the Riverlands, it was Arya they watched warily especially since the Northern Lords had made her involvement in the Freys' death as revenge for the Red Wedding known.

She was amazed at Arya's restraint and loyalty to her brother, for Melisandre was certain she would have already been dead were it not for her Prince. The assassin had made her intention and her mistrust clear as soon as she could and the Red Priestess couldn't fault her for that, knowing that she had almost ended the young woman's friend's life.

Their collaboration, fortunately, had nothing to do with Gendry Waters' fate, but thanks to, or rather because of Baelon's request before his departure.

The incident with Bran Stark, as well as the anger her Prince still felt towards the boy, had prompted him to take his distance from Winterfell to clear his mind from all his rage. He took the opportunity of the promise he had made to Ser Davos of reuniting him with his family for it, and while his family understood and encouraged him to do so, Queen Daenerys felt guilty of the whole ordeal.

"Will you watch over my betrothed for me, my Lady?" he asked her and she nodded. "I thank you. I already asked my siblings to do so, but I want to make sure that she has no interaction with Bran."

"I understand, my Prince. I will do as you bid me to."

"I also need you to watch the newcomers for me. Edmure Tully despises me and Daven Lannister hates everyone related to my late brother Robb. We need them on their best behavior and to be ready to fight the Others."

"Anything else, my Prince?" she asked and frowned when he smirked.

"Aye. Make peace with Arya while I'm gone."

"Easier said than done. Your sister is a stubborn little thing."

"I know, but at least talk to her. For me."

"Very well, for you, I will try."

"That's all I ask."

Baelon had then embraced Daenerys and his sisters, before stating out loud that he would be back for his wedding which prompted his betrothed to smile and blush. While Sansa Stark and Missandei had quickly started speaking about what to be done, and soon after he was gone, Arya came to her and suggested their first patrol.

They were both greeted by the Unsullied speaking in broken Valyrian and Melisandre smirked at the young woman's surprised face when she responded in kind.

"The God you served is not the only one using this phrase, Arya Stark of Winterfell. Although it is a way for a Faceless Man to get recognized by others so as not to be bothered in their missions. For the Unsullied as for the priests of R'hllor, the notion of servitude is ingrained in us since our childhood. While they acknowledge your past by greeting you this way, this is also a way for them to remember that their fate is not in their hands."

"Everyone controls their own fate." Arya retorted harshly.

"Is that so? Is that why I am not dead by your hand yet? Am I not on your list?"

"My brother asked me not to kill you." Arya said petulantly.

"Yet had he not asked you to do so, I would still be breathing. I have seen my death, child, a long time ago, at my first initiation by fire after being sold to the temple of Asshai. It has never changed since. Whatever choices I made, whatever wrongs I committed, my end is still the same and it is not coming by your hand."

"Does it make things easier for you? To know about your death?" Arya asked, looking genuinely interested in her answer.

"It does, in a sense. It drove me to my purpose without fear. Even if I knew I would die in Westeros, I left my home and my temple because my Lord gave me a mission."

"Aye, find the Prince That was Promised."

"Indeed. Azor Ahai reborn." she said happily.

"You thought he was Stannis."

"And I was wrong. I did things for him to gain power. Unforgivable things." she said while shaking her head in regret.

"Now you think it is my brother. Will you burn people alive so he could be victorious?" Arya asked angrily.

"Only the dead ones."

"How can I trust you? How can I be sure you're not after my brother's blood, as you wanted Gendry's?"

"I did want your friend as a sacrifice, but I acted on his uncle's request. We both know that my Prince would never ask something of this extent to me."

"I still do not trust you."

"Gendry is alive, Arya Stark. You should enjoy spending time with him instead of trying to find reasons not to speak to him." The Priestess said and shook her head at the glare she received. "I wish I could have loved ones to share my last days with people I could call friends. Cherish the bonds you have, for it makes you stronger."

"You said… Your last days?" Arya frowned, pausing in her walk to stare at her.

"I told you I know of my fate."

"Do you know of mine?"

"I can look into the fires if you -"

"No." Arya cut her off quickly. "I would not be able to focus if I knew. I… There's only one thing to say to the God of Death."

"Tubi daor." (Not today) Melisandre replied, and for the first time since they met, the wolf girl smiled genuinely at her.

She was glad to see her advice being followed the next day when she looked on from afar as Gendry and Arya bickered at the smithy. He was crafting Dragonglass weapons and she wanted one for herself. She had obviously thought long about it and had to show Gendry a demonstration of force to have him agree to make it for her. Melisandre watched with interest as the smith looked at Arya's retreating face with a bright smile before his whole demeanor changed when he spotted her watching.

"What are you doing here, my Lady?" he asked, visibly uncomfortable.

"Watching you, Ser Gendry. It seems the fire you use for iron melting is not hot enough."

"With the cold weather, it is indeed less than what it should be, and it takes more time for it to melt." Gendry said relaxing somewhat.

"Do you wish my help? I can use my Lord's blessings to solve your problem."

"I would rather not. No offense, my Lady, but the last time you talked to me about fire, you wanted me to go in there to burn, and this is the last place I want to be in."

"I understand, and I would have asked for your forgiveness had I thought you would give it freely. We both know you do not trust me, though I am glad you found your way back to your friend. I would ask for Thoros to help you with the fire." she offered.

"I do not trust Thoros either. He sold me to you."

"We have a common enemy and your role in the fight to come is very important. More important than I thought it was when I first saw you. I know that now."

"So, you will not try to take my blood or to burn me anymore?"

"Only if you ask me nicely." she said seductively, winking and laughing at his shudder.

"Leave the poor boy alone, my Lady!" Thoros' amused voice rang out in the smithy. "As you said, we need the lad, so now is not the time to make his heart stop."

"That was not my intention, raqaros." (my friend) she retorted with a smile.

"Come, my lady, there are things we need to talk about."

She followed the priest to the Brotherhood quarters, where Lord Beric Dondarrion was waiting for them. That Thoros had been able to bring him back so many times still impressed her, especially knowing that Thoros was not a firm believer of the Red God and had been forced to follow him until he first revived his friend. It seemed that R'hllor was most attentive when his priests doubted him. Melisandre too had almost lost faith until she realized her successful attempt at reviving Jon Snow.

She knew then that he had been someone important for the fight to come, but the extent of his importance was lost to her until the moment she saw him ride Rhaegal. A hidden Prince was not something she'd ever thought of finding in Westeros, yet everything she'd done had led her to him, and to the Wall. She just wished she hadn't had to walk the path she had taken beforehand, as so many people had died because of her.

Shaking her head, she sat in front of the fire, waiting for one of the men to start talking.

"Do you feel it, my Lady? Do you feel the nights going on for longer than the days?"

"I see it, Thoros. Even more, since our Prince left, and I am starting to feel the cold in my bones." she said as she shivered slightly.

"He shouldn't have left. Knowing what is to come, we shouldn't have let him -" Thoros began but she interrupted him.

"He needed to." she said curtly. "And he will be back before the Long Night. Emotions are creating chaos here, first with the reveal of his birth, then with Brandon Stark's attempt at breaking the alliance between the North and the South."

"Any idea why he did that?" Beric Dondarrion asked.

"He said that bad things would happen to the Prince and the Starks should Baelon wed the Queen. That he saw the fate of his family and he is adamant that they will face destruction." she replied.

"Yet he can't see how to end the Night King." Beric mumbled.

"Apparently because he's hiding from him, but there is something disturbing in the boy. Something I cannot figure the truth of." Thoros added.

"The boy had been touched by the Night King before getting away. King Rickon told me so when our Prince was at the Wall." Melisandre explained.

"Do you think he's controlled by the Great Other?" Beric wondered.

"No, but he shall be watched all the same." she answered.

"I looked into the fire to see if he was right. I asked the Lord of Light to show me the fate of Westeros should Daenerys and Baelon marry." Thoros said.

"What did you see?" she asked, curious.

"Nothing, but I felt a peace I've never felt before. Their union is blessed by R'hllor." he replied with confidence, which relieved Melisandre.

"Our Prince doesn't trust Brandon Stark. His powers are dangerous and if he is set on separating them, I fear what Baelon would do to him." she said a moment later.

"What can we do? We do not even know the extent of his powers." Thoros lamented.

"We should ask Rickon Stark about him and them." Beric declared. "He too has some power of his own. If you combine your forces, then you'll be able to protect the prince."

Melisandre nodded and thought about the King in the North's changed since he came back from the dead. He gained in assurance a lot through the moons he'd been separated from Baelon, yet she could feel he was still fragile despite his icy demeanor. Contrary to Brandon Stark, he was driven by his emotions and it troubled her greatly.

Winterfell 304 AC.

Bronn.

When Tyrion had made him the offer, he'd considered it carefully. Had he still been Hand of the Queen and still in her favor, then he'd probably have even come up with a plan to see Jon Snow dead. Tyrion was no longer in favor, far from it and so when he had agreed to give him Highgarden, Bronn had known that he was lying to him. It was something that normally would have led to a man's death. Not for the lie itself but for reneging on a deal with him or not paying him his due. The only reason he'd not killed him then and there was that it served him better to have him alive for now.

Leaving King's Landing and making his way to the North had been simple enough. The sheer mass of men that were doing so had made it easy for him to blend in and though most of them were not men who liked an ale or a bawdy song, it mattered not to him and he'd enjoyed both on the journey to White Harbor. It was upon his arrival there that he saw her again. The Dornish woman who he'd spent many a night spending to since he'd last seen her.

"You want a good girl, but you need the bad pussy."

It had been a strange thing for him, to be so affected by a woman, any woman. True he'd had his share and other people's shares too, but none of them had ever been anything more than a good night to him until he met her. No woman had ever played with him and made him actually look and think about her the way that Tyene Sand had done. That she'd saved his life had played its part too. As it would have been just as easy for her to simply allow him to die. Yet still, he'd thought that once he and Jaime Lannister had left Dorne, that would have been the last he'd ever thought of her and certainly the last he saw of her, how wrong he had been.

Since then she'd been in his thoughts far too often, her face in his dreams and at times replacing the faces of the women he lay with. When he'd seen her in King's Landing, it had taken all he had not to go to her, and seeing her again in White Harbor, it was exactly the same. In the end, he'd not needed to as she'd come to him and the night they shared together and each of them since had been like nothing he could ever imagine. No, that was a lie, he'd imagined nights such as these for most of his life, he'd just not ever truly hoped he'd get to experience them.

"You have not risen again?" Tyene pouted and Bronn laughed as he reached over and took the jug, not bothering to pour a mug and bringing it to first his and then her mouths.

"I'm thinking of the future." he said as he placed the mug back on the table and watched Tyene roll over onto her stomach, Bronn for once not looking at the firm arse or the curve of the small of her back and instead, he stared at the soft features of her face.

"And do I play a part in this future of yours?" she asked playfully.

"Aye, if you want." he said catching her by surprise, something she hid quickly.

"So what does this future entail?" she asked and he told her what the Stark boy had told him, the keep that was his by right of blood and how that along with helping to win this war would be enough to set him up for a far more comfortable life than the one he'd known up to now.

Was this but a few days earlier, then he'd have not mentioned the war at all. Had this been something he'd have known about before coming North, he'd care not about the war against an army of dead men and it would certainly not be a war that he'd be fighting in. if he believed that she'd come with him was he to leave, then it still wouldn't be. Tyene though had made it clear that she was to stay and fight with her sister and the Dornish Army and nothing he could say would change her mind.

Mayhap that showed just how truly she'd bewitched him. The fact that it was her safety even more than his own that he was focussed on. It was a first for him, truly. Even when he'd guarded Tyrion or Jaime Lannister, it was always his life that was the most important one. True he'd risk it for them, but only when that risk was one that gave him a better than even chance of coming out of it still breathing. Even when he'd saved Jaime Lannister from the dragon, it had been with such a calculation in mind, and had he for one second believed he'd have been too late or got caught up in the flames, then he'd have left the man to burn and rode on.

Now though it was different, and for the first time in his life, he cared about someone more than himself. If Tyene was to stay, then so would he, and only together would they leave this place, unless she didn't wish to leave it with him that was. He looked at her face, her eyes closed and her lips pouting as she lay beside him and seemed to be considering his words and his offer, though he'd not truly made her one. How long it took her to speak, he knew not, but every second felt like an eternity to him and so when she opened her eyes and looked at him, he held his breath.

"I think I'd like to be the Lady of Darry." she said softly and her next words almost went unheard by him so happy did her first ones make him "It seems you've risen once more." she said with a small laugh.

After they'd coupled and he'd fallen to sleep, he later awoke to find himself alone in the room and so he rose, drank down the remainder of the ale, and dressed and readied for the day. It was as he was on his way to break his fast that he saw him again, the boy looking at him with that same dead expression on his face and it discomfited him as much as it did everyone else. It made him grab his food and take it elsewhere to eat and it was as he was doing so that he began to think about what Brandon Stark had said to him.

That the boy knew things was something that most agreed on, however, there was something about the nature of what he knew and whether or not he told the truth that had become the source of conversation these past few days. Ever since his brother had beaten him and left him lying in the courtyard of Winterfell, people had asked questions. Not as many about why Baelon Targaryen had seen fit to beat a boy in a wheeled chair as one might imagine either. Instead, it had been questions of why not one of the other Stark's had sought to do any more than the barest minimum to see that Brandon Stark recovered. How they'd then argued with any who dared name Baelon Targaryen as being in the wrong and how not just one, but all three of them had said that "Bran deserved it".

For Bronn, it had made him consider the words that the boy had said to him and to examine them more closely. So much so that when he finished eating, he sought out the one man he'd been avoiding since he'd been told about his father, the one man who actually knew Jonathor Darry and could tell him the truth of the man, Jaime Lannister. He found him looking over the defenses of the keep, he and Brienne of Tarth and Podrick, the latter two not best pleased to see him and soon enough leaving him and Jaime alone as they were tired of his quips.

"You truly have a way with people." Jaime said and Bronn chuckled.

"I don't see too many rushing to be in your company." he replied back to a nod of the head.

"True. The king may have made it clear that I hold a role here now, that I hold his favor somewhat, but that only stops fools from seeking vengeance or justice for some act they blame on me or my house. You saw what happened with the Mountain Man?" Jaime asked and Bronn shook his head "He sought to avenge Ned Stark, only to find that not even his son believed him in the right or me more in the wrong than I truly was."

"The attack in King's Landing?" he asked and Jaime nodded "You were doing it for your brother and it wasn't your spear that struck Stark."

"No, it wasn't." Jaime said shaking his head "Now what brings you to me, other than my charm and wit, for I've no more gold to offer."

"So no castle from you then." Bronn said laughing.

"I own only what you see me wear, Bronn, and never have I been richer than I am right now."

He looked at him unsure what he meant for a moment and then saw it more clearly in his eyes, Jaime was content, truly content, and that was not something most men could ever say or live to feel.

"Your brother offered me Highgarden." he said and Jaime's head almost spun so quickly did he turn to him "All I had to do was kill Jon Snow, or who we all believed to be Jon Snow."

"I take it by your telling of this to me that you've thought better of it?" Jaime asked and Bronn swore his hand moved to his sword as he did so, surprising him a little.

"Aye. Not only do I know what comes for us and that he's who we need to fucking stop them, but I doubt I could take the fucker even if I wanted to. I'm good, he's better, and he's not a man who can easily be snuck up on." he said and saw the smile on Jaime's face.

"Not if you don't wish to face a dragon or a wolf, not to mention the man himself."

"Which I don't." he said to a nod of Jaime's head "But while I may have decided not to follow through before he spoke to me, speak to me he did and I…"

"Spoke to Who?"

"Brandon Stark."

The look on Jaime's face darkened so suddenly that it took him a moment to remember that hadn't been his expression when they started to speak. When he felt his arm being taken and he was moved away from the yard and into an empty room, he looked to see that expression was darker still. He watched as Jaime walked around the room, checking it for something he knew not, and then once he was done, he turned to him to speak.

"What did that little fuck tell you?"

At first, he was about to speak on Darry, but instead, he spoke on what had been said regarding Tyrion and his plans to kill Jon Snow and his own part in it. How to speak up about it would lead to his death and that his words wouldn't be believed. All through his tale, Jaime looked and listened and once he was done speaking, then and only then did he make any comment.

"I'll speak to Tyrion and make him see reason." Jaime said and Bronn nodded "If he does not then I'll speak to the king."

"He'll kill him. You tell him this and he'll kill him."

"Mayhap, but only if Tyrion doesn't see sense, and should he not then he's beyond my help anyway." Jaime said resignedly "I don't understand why Bran Stark would tell you not to speak on it though, why he'd say it would end in your death, it makes no sense."

"That wasn't all he said, he told me that my father was a knight. A man of the Kingsguard." he said and Jaime turned to look at him, his words naming it as even more true than Brandon Stark's did to Bronn's mind.

"Jonathor." Jaime said almost reverently.

"You knew?" he asked to a shake of Jaime's head.

"Lewyn had a paramour but I met the woman and you're not his son. The Bold and Gerold would never nor would Oswell and as for Arthur, not only would he not, but there's no way in the seven fucking hells you're his son."

"What of the ones before then?" he asked and Jaime shook his head.

"No, only Jonathor and Lewyn broke that vow. He was a good man, your father, a good man and true and….." Jaime said before seeming to get lost in thought.

"Jaime?"

"Darry, you're the Lord of Darry, the keep is yours." Jaime said laughing loudly "You got your fucking castle after all."

"Aye, I did." he said as Jaime slapped his back.

"Come let's get drunk, Lord Bronn."

"Tyrion, Brandon Stark?"

"Are both worries for the morrow. We should celebrate your good fortune and I'll tell you tales of your father as we do so."

He'd never wished to know the truth about his father and yet as they walked from the room, he found himself eager for every single morsel that Jaime Lannister was about to serve up.

Winterfell 304 AC.

Howland Reed.

Father...

Howland woke up panting and sweating, quickly looking around his room in a panic. Ever since he'd arrived at Winterfell, he'd had the same dream.

He'd seen a majestic Heart Tree, one as big as the one they worship in the Neck, but this one was surrounded by snow. He knew this was the Heart Tree where the Three-Eyed Raven had rested, as it matched Meera's description, yet he had no idea why he was dreaming of it.

Until he saw him.

Jojen's spirit was trapped there, his sad smile piercing Howland's heart like a burning arrow. The guilt he felt at sending his son and heir to that awful place to die was suffocating and he couldn't bear to see him in his dreams, even though he longed for every single glimpse of him. Jojen had known of his fate and had he known too, yet had he truly known what would happen to his children and to Bran Stark, then he would have never agreed to let them go.

Sometimes the death of one boy was necessary to prevent that of many.

He immediately felt regret for thinking this way when his thoughts traveled to Rickon Stark. That lad was innocent, as innocent as Jojen had been, and he wouldn't have deserved to die.

Jojen didn't deserve it either, but he chose to follow his path and Howland couldn't blame his son for doing what he thought was right. He had known of the threat of the dead, of what the Night King would cause to Westeros should he manage to cross the Wall, and he felt it was his duty to bring the last greenseer to the Three-Eyed Raven.

If only he'd known how it would turn out...

The more he looked at Brandon Stark, the more he heard about his deeds and the more Howland was sure that he was not supposed to be this way. He was to be a servant of the Old Gods, as the crannogman was, and the Old Gods always required their servants to observe and not act unless being asked to do so. The Three-Eyed Raven was someone who witnessed and reminded the world of the Pact between the Children of the Forest and the First Men. He was to be the Guardian of the Memories of their ancestors, the keeper of the secrets of the Old Magic, and he was not supposed to use his knowledge to further his gain, which was what Howland thought Bran was now doing.

He had talked to the young man after the incident with Baelon. Not that he really wanted to, but he needed to understand what had happened for Lyanna's son to lose his temper so completely. Howland had waited for the Maester to leave Bran's side and had then gone inside his room with Meera, hoping that what remained from their friendship would be enough to make him talk openly.

"Why did your brother beat you?" Meera asked bluntly.

"He is not my brother. Not anymore. He has chosen his side today."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I warned him that nothing good would ever come from a Wolf loving a Dragon. He chose not to heed my warning and to follow in his mother's steps. Soon, history will repeat itself." Bran answered, looking straight at him and sending a shiver to his spine.

"It can't be. The Seven Kingdoms are united behind them." he said grasping for something to prove the boy wrong.

"Nothing lasts forever, Lord Reed. If we survive the Long Night, then war will break out because of the dragons' lies. The South will turn against the Queen and my brother, and my family will pay the price for it. Before the battle for the Dawn, a terrible thing will -"

"Stop right there, brother." Howland was startled as Rickon's icy voice rang into the room.

"People need to know what is going to happen." Bran retorted.

"Was Jon's warning not enough? Do I need to threaten you myself so you'll finally stop your fucking games?"

"I'm just looking out for our future, Rickon. For our family."

"Well, focus your energy on looking out for a way to rid us of the Night King. Though I doubt Jon will trust you now that you tried to sabotage his marriage. Are you fucking stupid or do you have a fucking death wish?"

"You need to listen to me, brother." Bran pressed.

"It's already too late. You won't change his mind. He is going to marry her whether you like it or not. If you want me to believe that you have Jon's interests in heart, truly, then let him do what he wants. And if something happens, then you and I will act. Not beforehand."

"You'll never act against Jon if he loses himself."

The words that came out of Rickon's mouth made Howland tense and seemed to get Bran's undivided attention. He heard the sounds, the harsh clicks that some of the Free Folk who didn't speak the common tongue made, yet it was nothing compared to the Old tongue he'd heard so far.

"Is mise Rickon an Stark mac Eddard, mhic Rickard, mhic Edwyle, mhic Willam, mhic Beron, mhic Cregan, mhic Rickon, Mhic Benjen, Mhic Bael, Rí taobh thall den Bhalla." Rickon started and Bran narrowed his eyes at his brother while the latter continued. "Is mise an Rí sa Tuaisceart, sliocht Chéad Rí an Gheimhridh, tá fuil an Mac Tíre agam agus iad siúd a chanann amhrán an domhain ag sileadh i mo chuid féitheacha agus geallaim do na Sean-Déithe go gcoimeádfaidh mé mo bhriathar. Cosnóidh mé mo theaghlach, fiú uathu féin. Ar thalamh agus ar uisce mionním é, mionním é ar chré-umha agus iarann, mionním é ar oighear agus ar thine."

Brandon's expression grew somber and Howland could see that the lad was truly shaken by his brother's words. Mayhaps he'd been troubled by the fact that Rickon knew of the Old Tongue, which wasn't truly shocking regarding he'd been raised by a Wildling for years, or mayhaps it was the words he'd said to Bran. Whichever it was, the new Three-Eyed Raven only nodded before asking them to leave.

"Make sure no one except from the Maester and one servant only goes into this room. Not even the Queen can interact with my brother, is that understood?" Rickon ordered the men guarding the door who nodded in turn.

"Will you come and see me, Rickon? Can I at least see my family? Or will you push me away like he did, when all I care about is the Pack's safety?"

The king in the North tensed then sighed loudly.

"Only if you promise to keep your mouth shut from now."

"Thank you, brother. Thank you for not giving up on me."

Rickon's gaze softened as he glanced not at his brother, but at Howland's daughter, and left the room without any more words.

For days Howland had tried to understand the meaning of Rickon's demeanor. He knew the young king had made a promise to Meera to see if Bran was still worth saving, for Jojen's sacrifice to not be in vain, but he still felt there was more to the story than what he believed.

He walked into the large sparring yard that had been transformed into a training camp, looking at his daughter who was using a trident made of ironwood and Dragonglass to fight against Lyanna Mormont. Howland was glad to see her getting included warmly by the Northern Ladies and surprised to see both the Stark girls and the Queen joining in on one of her lessons. There was not many moments to laugh for Meera since she had come back home and to hear the sound he'd missed so much coming from his daughter warmed his heart.

"Meera was born first, Father. Had we been born in Dorne, she would have been your heir. She deserved to be the heir." Jojen had said to him once and seeing her lead the fighting lesson that day showed it clearly. Howland just wished that Jojen didn't have to die for him to see the truth of it.

"Lord Reed?" he heard from behind and was surprised to see the Queen's advisor. "Are you well?"

"I am, my Lady. Thank you for asking."

"I noticed that you always place yourself on the outskirts of the yard as if you're always on high alert." she pointed out and he smiled, noting her observations qualities. "Should we fear an attack?"

"Not that I am aware of, my Lady. Though where I live, we always are vigilant about our surroundings. So this is a habit that is hard to lose."

"Oh yes, Lady Meera and King Rickon have talked to us about the Neck. It seems like an interesting place to visit." she smiled politely, though Howland noticed the uncertainty in her voice.

"Well, once the fight with the Army of the Dead is over, I would gladly invite you and your Queen to visit Greywater Watch, if you don't mind the humidity of the swamps. Not everyone in the North enjoys it, though it is a place full of wonders." he said and her face lit up at his words.

"I thank you, my Lord. For the invitation and the hope. I look forward to visiting the Keep with my Queen and my… companions. With your leave, I am going to train now. Your daughter is a diligent teacher and a credit to your House. And, she is less scary than Lady Arya." she chuckled and he couldn't help but agree with her words.

As the young lady proceeded to join with Meera and the others, Howland felt that simple exchange to be very meaningful. He realized that, like Missandei, he needed the reassurance that he, or at least his people, would have a future after the upcoming war.

His feet led him to the Godswood and he was glad to feel the calmness of the place soothe his fears. Bran's isolation from this place had rendered it less eerie and he wondered if it had to do with the Three-Eyed Raven's influence or the atmosphere surrounding the lad wherever he went.

He knelt in front of a Heart Tree, praying for the wellbeing of his kings and their family. of the North in general, and hoping for a glimmer of hope regarding Meera's fate.

Listen to your dream, Son of the Marshes. Do not be afraid, you may not think it the case, but he always knows what shall be done. the flow of voices caressed his mind as a calming breeze did the same to his face.

His heart clenched, thinking about the person he had evaded for so long in his dreams.

Listen to him, as you've always done, for his spirit lives in our branches now and he has an important message for you.

"I cannot." he whispered. "I am too weak to face him…" he started and stopped at the cawing of a nearby raven.

No!

It was a warning, a not subtle one, and rather than listening to the Raven, he decided to choose the path the Gods had asked of him.

He struggled to sleep that night. The sounds of the ravens flying near his room disturbed him greatly and he had to ask a favor of Rickon so that they left him alone. Thankfully the wolves residing in the Broken Tower didn't like the dark-winged birds and took pleasure in hunting them down.

He was back Beyond the Wall, in front of the majestic Heart Tree which was surrounded by a blinding light reflected by the snow, giving it an ethereal look.

Father…

Jojen's voice made him shiver and he finally turn around to look at his son. He couldn't keep the tears away as he rushed to his side and fell to his knees.

"Jojen…My son… I am so…"

"Father, do not blame yourself for what happened. Meera and I needed to go to the Heart Tree and I knew what would happen to me, but it needed to be done."

"Have you seen what happened to your companion? To your sister? To Bran Stark himself?"

"I know, part of the Three-Eyed Raven's message got lost in the way. This was not what was supposed to happen."

"So you died -"

"No, Father. My death was necessary. Only death can pay for life. My death was destined to open the New Raven's third eye, yet in our hurry, we left someone behind, someone who should have come with us on our journey."

"Rickon…" Howland whispered, understanding more of what happened.

"Aye. Bran and Rickon are both greenseers. They both could have been the Three-Eyed Raven. I erred in focusing my teaching only on Bran since he was the eldest, but Rickon too had been chosen by the gods."

"So this means Rickon could see…"

"He can. He needs to be trained. I need you to train him, father, for he will be needed for the wars to come."

"I… How can I train him?"

"You will know. Talk to him, and he will tell you of his dreams. Help him decipher them."

"I will."

"There is something else, Father. A wrong we should rectify before it is too late."

"What is it, Son?"

"Just as Rickon has his role to play in the Battles to come, so does Meera."

"Meera?"

"She was meant to stay at the Wall. father. She should be at the Wall right now. She is needed there."

Howland's heart clenched as panic submerged him and he shook his head, overwhelmed.

"You cannot ask this of me. I just got her back. You cannot ask me to send her to her death!"

"There is something for her there necessary for her survival, Father. For everyone's survival. Without it in her possession, all is doomed. Not only her fate but the fate of all the living. You have to send her back."

"Are you sure, son?" Howland asked shakily.

"Aye, they were never supposed to be where they are. Bran should have stayed in the cave and Meera would have defended the wall. Things have changed now, but Meera's fate is not in Winterfell. Trust me, Father."

"I… Trust you. I always did, My Son."

"I know and I thank you for this. It is time for you to wake and time for me to rest."

"Will I see you again?"

"I'm following you everywhere you go, for as long as there is a Heart Tree, then I am here with you, always. And when the time comes, your spirit will be there with me, watching over Meera and her children."

Howland woke up with a start, his eyes full of tears and his heart filled with a new resolve. He had to make yet another sacrifice, another one for the good of Westeros and his daughter most of all. He was but a servant and his Gods had bid him act to correct a wrong done, so act he would.

Starting with Rickon Stark.

Winterfell 304 AC.

Tormund Giantsbane.

He had thought that getting drunk the day before had been a great idea to celebrate his friend's return and upcoming wedding. Yet as he woke late that day, alone in his bed, he cursed his nasty habit and decide to stop drinking, at least for the day. It was a moment he wanted to enjoy, as much for Jon Snow as he did for himself.

A wedding was a joyful event and he would make sure to enjoy every moment of it, even if the Southerners' customs weren't the same as the Free Folks'.

The Dragon Queen and Jon had decided on a 'Northern' ceremony, which visibly disturbed the uptight lot that had arrived with the Queen, but greatly pleased the Lords from the North. They had felt the need to unite under the Old Gods' eyes and Tormund liked the idea also, for they were the gods he followed.

He soon arrived at Jon's room, joining Davos and Rickon in the invite for breaking their fast together.

"Sorry, I'm late." Tormund grumbled as he sat glaring at the amused sods who picked on him while serving himself a mug of water.

"Tough night, my friend?" Davos teased and he almost choked on his first sip of the cool refreshing water.

"I was starting to get worried." Jon said and he could feel that his concern was genuine.

"You should be worrying about keeping your bride happy with that little pecker of yours." Tormund retorted.

"For the last time, I was naked and cold. You cannot judge anything in those circumstances." Jon sighed and Tormund chuckled at the annoyance his words brought his truest friend. That they were spoken in fondness was the only reason he had kept the jape up this long and he knew that Jon knew that too.

"Well, I hope your death didn't break it, that's all I'm saying." he japed and realized Jon was not joining in the fun. "What? Are you scared about that? Truly?"

"No, that's not... I know it's working."

"Maybe we should leave this conversation when Rickon is not around, lads?" Davos said, visibly embarrassed.

"I know what they're talking about! Osha told me what happens when a man steals a woman! And I know about fucking!" Rickon said smugly.

"Thank you for that, Tormund." Jon rolled his eyes and sighed loudly before setting his annoyed glance at him.

"Just tell us what bothers you, brother." Rickon insisted. "Is it the wedding, or what happened when you were away?"

"I... I just want to marry Dany, but I can't help but think about what Bran said, and -"

"And fuck Bran! Don't tell me you think he's right now?" Tormund exclaimed, ready to knock some sense into his friend.

"No! But Rickon said he did try to warn us -"

"No, he didn't. He said something about something happening, but he never said what. He was playing his fucking games and I will knock you on your arse if you even think to let him win." Rickon growled.

"You're right. We've decided to proceed with the wedding and we will do just that." Jon said firmly.

"Thank the Gods for that!" Tormund sighed with relief.

"Why do you care so much about my wedding?" Jon asked, suddenly suspicious, and Tormund bit back a curse.

"Well... I would have been an idiot to miss such an occasion of celebration and besides I want to know if your pecker is still working."

"Save it. There's more to it, isn't it?" Jon pressed.

"I... Just... Oh, fuck off, will ya?"

"Are you blabbering?" Rickon teased.

"Do you want me to tell your brother how many pouches of goat's milk you and the She-Bear stole from Nessa the other night?"

"You wouldn't dare, you fucking sod!"

"I will deal with you later, Rickon." Jon said, making his little brother curse under his breath and glared at Tormund. "What is it, Tormund? You know you can tell me anything, don't you?"

"What I say here will not get away from this room, or so help me..." he said reluctantly.

"We promise. Rickon? Davos?"

They all nodded and Tormund sighed loudly before mumbling something unintelligible.

"What was that?" Rickon frowned.

"I need to be on my best behavior today so I can be rewarded tonight! There! I said it!" Tormund exploded, now really embarrassed by the situation he'd walked himself into.

"On your… What the fuck is your best behavior?" Rickon exclaimed while Davos and Jon seemed to understand.

"You slimy bastard! You did it and you never said a word!" the future husband swore as the older one chuckled and patted an embarrassed Tormund in the back.

"What? What's going on?" Rickon asked confused.

"When did it happen? You know what? Never mind. What do you need?" Jon continued, ignoring his brother.

"Can someone explain what the fuck is going on?" Rickon finally yelled, annoyed.

"Brienne, Rickon. Tormund is courting Brienne." Davos replied, smiling brightly.

"Oh… OH! How? When? Why?" Tormund could see the lad was trying not to make a disgusted face and it strangely comforted him.

"I can tell you why!" Jon butted in. "Our dear old Tormund is in love! Did you steal her already?" he smirked.

"Well…" Tormund started, coughing with embarrassment as he remembered how it happened.

"By the Gods! She was the one who did the stealing?" Davos deduced.

"It was not… We were both happy and relieved that Sansa got back and…"

"Sansa? That was fucking moons ago!" Jon said, surprised. "How the fuck did you keep this a secret all this time?"

"Brienne told me not to say anything." Tormund almost whispered, sounding very much like a child being chastised.

"Oh, this is getting better!" Davos quipped. "He is done for, my friends! He is already at her beck and call."

"So what did she tell you after she stole you? Did you fight? I cannot believe she stole you and she bested you!" Rickon excitedly asked.

"I didn't fight much. You told me to show manners, King Pup, so that's what I did."

"So that's why you're taking more baths than usual lately!" the King in the North realized.

"She said a man doesn't need to smell awful to show his better side. That the most important thing for her is what is under the pile of crass and bad manners I have, and she thinks that if I learn how to have some manners then I could show the world that I am worth way more than what people believe."

"So now you're truly courting her… Fuck me sideways."

"Rickon!" Jon exclaimed glaring at his brother.

"I owe Lyanna a ride on Ghost because of you, Tormund. She said you would be the one getting stolen."

"You bet on this?" he asked with a snort.

"Well, none of us thought it was possible, except for Lyanna. How she figured that out, I don't know, but this… She tricked me and now I will have to pay up. Thanks, Tormund."

"Of course, she figured it out, that little bear. She happens to be the only one in your lot who knows how courting truly is, King Pup!"

"What? How? Is someone courting her? Is… Is she courting someone?" Rickon asked worriedly.

"Wouldn't she be the one to be courted? Doesn't it work like that here?" he asked.

"Nah, I would know if someone dared try speaking honeyed words to her. We would all know because she would beat them bloody." Rickon chuckled.

"Unless she likes him?" Jon added.

"The only things Lyanna likes are sparring and getting on my nerves." Rickon said and Tormund smirked and ruffled Rickon's hair while the lad snorted. Some things never changed and it was a good thing, for once. "So, what do you have to do to court Brienne?"

"First, she told me to take a bath and wear fancy clothes for the wedding. And something with my beard too. Not sure what it was about."

"I think we will need more than that. Rickon, we will need both Sansa and Wylla." Jon said and the twinkle in his eye before he walked over to his wardrobe made Tormund shiver.

"Don't forget that it's your wedding, brother." Rickon grumbled and closed his eyes for a moment

"Aye, I know, but if someone else deserves to enjoy the next few days with the woman he desperately chased for moons, I think it's Tormund."

"After all the effort he's made for us, we can do that for him, don't you think?" Davos said.

"Aye, you're right. Nymeria is on her way. Sansa and Wylla were already together. I think they're planning something for Jon."

It always amazed Tormund to see how easily Rickon was able to share his gift with people around him. He wasn't afraid of this power given by the Old Gods and contrary to his brother Bran, the Free Man felt he could trust him fully. This was something new for him, as wargs were always pushed away from the tribe until they could prove their worth, and then kept at the outskirts of the clan even after doing so.

That not only his people but also the Queen and her entourage didn't fear Rickon was a testament to his character. While everyone seemed to avoid the cripple prick at all cost, they almost welcomed Rickon's help. When the Dragon Queen had to leave hurriedly a few days after Jon did, it was to Rickon that everyone turned to find out the truth of things. He had confidently said that something had required Daenerys attention in the South and that he knew nothing more, and people had believed him without reservation.

Later on, Bran tried to speak about what he had apparently seen, but he had quickly been shut down by his own family. Which effectively cut the last shreds of reliability the seer had before he had tried to stop Jon's wedding with his games. The Free Folk called Bran by what he named himself, the Raven, the bringer of dark words, and thought him cursed by his warging abilities. Rickon didn't help salvage his brother's reputation when he all but confirmed that he was the one to launch the ravens when he felt threatened. Whilst Tormund doubted he did it on purpose, remembering that the boy had also been attacked during the incident, he knew that Rickon would never forget nor forgive Bran for all he had done so far.

After they had arrived, Sansa's giddiness to help Tormund find something new to wear should have offended him, but she knew the way of the South and so did Wylla. The latter proceeded to enter the place he took his bath in without warning and pour something into the water whose flowery smell almost made him gag.

"Scrub well behind your ears, your armpits and your crotch, as well as the crook of the elbows and the knees. Don't forget to wash your hair and beard. In fact, just put your whole body in the water. Trust me, you'll thank me later." was all the woman said before leaving as suddenly as she had come, leaving him even more confused.

He however did as he was told, for once, as the idea of the Big Woman's reaction upon seeing his transformation made him almost giggle with anticipation.

Part of him felt guilty when he saw the women's attention drawn on him as they worked on his hair when it was supposed to be Jon's day, but the latter didn't seem to mind much.

"I am going to marry the woman I love in front of the Heart Tree while surrounded by my loved ones, 'tis what counts for me and nothing else." Jon said when he'd asked him why he wasn't upset at the attention he was receiving.

"You'll have to wed in the eyes of the Seven too." Sansa mentioned while working on untangling Tormund's knotted hair. "For the Lords of the South's sake."

"I know. Lady Olenna told me this. We had talked about a ceremony in the small Sept they had built in King's Landing after the explosion of the Sept of Baelor, but -"

"There's a Sept in White Harbor, brother… Should Lord Manderly send word for the Septon of the Snowy Sept and you could travel to get him…"

"You want me to fly to White Harbor on my wedding day?" Jon asked frowning.

"As if you had better things to do until tonight!" Sansa replied.

"Sansa is right, dear." Wylla added. "It will be a good way to keep yourself occupied and to be useful at the same time."

"And it will give us more time to focus on dear Tormund over here." Sansa said, smirking.

"There's more to do?" Tormund squeaked, uneasy. "Can't I… Ouch!"

"See?" Wylla chuckled.

"You pulled my hair!"

"There was a knot."

"Why do you have to do this?"

"Because your lady love is going to want to run her hands in your hair. In. Your. Hair. Not over it because she can't get through it."

"She's not like that!"

"How do you know?" Tormund tried to remember the moment she stole him and the nights after.

There had been a lot of hair-pulling and clothes ripping on his side, which made some women of his tribe scowl when they helped mend his, but he could feel the softness of Brienne's hair under his fingers and he shivered as he realized they might be right. He grumbled but nodded still, indicating they could go on their ministrations.

Staring in the looking glass, later on, he thought that all of this hadn't changed much of his appearance at the end, even though all around him complimented him about it. He scoffed and shook his head, thinking about the Southerners and their stupid rules. Courting, marriage, trueborn and bastards… All of these things made no sense and were way too complicated when life itself was already difficult enough. He hoped that Jon being their king would change some things in their way of thinking, but he knew that getting the message of change through to some of them, mostly the Vale fucks, would be hard to do.

"They think Prince Baelon a bastard still. They do not recognize Lyanna and Rhaegar's marriage." Brienne explained when they were alone.

"Didn't they wed following the Southerners' Gods rituals?"

"They did, but Rhaegar was already married so they consider Lyanna as a mistress and not a second wife, for the seven don't condone multiple unions."

"But…"

"Listen, Tormund. I know this is some complete horseshit, but this is the way of the South. They bury their heads and fight whatever doesn't suit their interests. They don't like Baelon and Daenerys marrying each other and they will try to argue with everything they can. That's how the Lords are, and I doubt it will change." Brienne said dejectedly, making Tormund realize that she didn't like this situation either.

"Jon will make it change. He is of the North and he has been taught well by us." he retorted with confidence.

"And I thought I was the naive one."

"I was like you once, Maid of Tarth. Not trusting anyone, especially not the Crows at the other side of the Wall. Jon Snow managed to prove to me more times than I can remember that what I believed about the Crows, about the Northern Southerners was completely wrong. That I and my people could have a future here and that we didn't have to change our beliefs to do so. He accepted us with our customs, even the Thenns, and we were the ones who changed thanks to him. So aye, I trust him to knock some sense into the thick heads of those fucking lords."

"I see… I must admit that he doesn't see things like the rest of them. He never judged me and he accepted I was worthy to guard his family when most people would look down on me for playing with swords."

"Why would people look down on you for that?"

"All I ever wanted since I was a little girl was to be a knight. I trained hard for it, and I am thankful my father never forbid me to, but we have been scorned and ridiculed because women have no place wielding weapons."

"Tell this to Lyanna Mormont, to Arya Stark, the Dornish snakes, and the women of my tribe." he snorted loudly.

"The North and Dorne are different, more accepting of people and things than the rest of the realm. I admire them, truly, and I admire the Free Folk for this too."

"You stole me, Maid of Tarth. You are a Free Woman too now, so fuck the rules of the South. You can be who you truly are with me. That is if you want to." he'd said, almost shyly, hoping she would accept.

She hadn't responded but her hungry kiss was all he needed at that moment to know that soon, she would truly be his.

Tormund saw his woman gape at him when she and Arya brought the gift Sansa had prepared for her brother and he couldn't help but smirk smugly at her.

You didn't think I would follow your order, huh? he thought, his smirk growing larger as she quickly averted her gaze.

"What is this?" Jon asked softly.

"I want you to see it before the ceremony. Wylla and I worked on it as soon as your betrothal was enacted. I hope you will like it." Sansa answered, seemingly anxious about her brother's reaction.

He watched as Jon unfastened the bundle and gasped at the beautiful grey cloak in front of him. It had four wolves' faces woven into it, each one of a different color. The white one was clearly Ghost, with his red eyes perfectly represented, and he could guess between the two grey wolves which one was Nymeria. The last one, a black wolf, was almost smirking and it reminded him of Rickon. When Jon turned the cloak to look at it, though, Tormund could see it was black and his dragon family sigil was woven into it while his friend was shocked to look at the grey part.

"This… This…" Jon stammered, in awe.

"We took some inspiration from your mother's wedding cloak. She was obviously married to a dragon, but she still felt as if she should represent her ancestors, her family, so she added the wolves on it." Wylla explained.

"Arya even helped on it. Well, she tried. She is still more gifted with a sword than a needle." Sansa chuckled while Arya grumbled, making all of them laugh.

"This is… The wolves… Ghost, Nymeria, Shaggydog, Lady…" Jon whispered, pointing at each one of them.

"Take it as a way to welcome Daenerys into the pack, brother. Because as much as you and her are dragons, you always will have a pack of wolves protecting you. Both of you." Sansa said.

"Sansa I… Thank you… Thank you so much. It means a lot to me." Jon replied, not hesitating once before embracing his sister who was struggling not to cry.

He did the same with Wylla, Arya, and Rickon, who were happy to see their gift accepted so wholeheartedly, and suddenly Tormund felt he was intruding. It was a moment for them, for their family to share, so he promptly exited the room and let them enjoy this joyous moment together. He had never been too close to his family. He loved his children, but things were so hard beyond the Wall that he had soon learned to detach himself from everyone so as to not get hurt if something happened to them. He had said to Rickon that he was a lone wolf, once, yet as he closed the door and his gaze fell on Brienne of Tarth, he realized that he was nothing more than a lost pup yearning for what the other wolves had.

Love.

Winterfell 304 AC.

Dany.

She stood in front of the looking glass, the reflection one that she'd not ever truly hoped to see and certainly not one she expected she ever would. Unlike the day of her first wedding, the smile she wore was as true as it had ever been and the eagerness and excitement she saw in her eyes were both real. Dany had feared that when next she wed it would be to a man that she had no real choice about. That it would be just as it almost was in Meereen with Hizdahr, an arranged marriage where she felt nothing for her would-be husband. Today was anything but, the feelings she had for Baelon were even stronger than those she'd eventually found with Drogo. The thoughts of being his wife, of laying with him, of spending the future with him by her side were ones she would find herself contemplating all through the days that led to this moment and ones that were soon to be realized.

A part of her had worried that something or someone would come between them and force them apart. Something that Brandon Stark had tried to do, only for Baelon to show her that they were meant to be together. Even given what they'd seen after she'd received the message from King Rickon and followed Baelon to King's Landing, hadn't been enough to stop this day from happening. Baelon, his family, Wylla, and Missandei had all made it clear that the wedding should take place regardless and Dany herself wanted nothing more than for that to be so.

As she looked at the dress and felt the softness of the material, her eyes began to water. The tears that threatened to fall were tears of joy and not sadness and yet somehow she stopped them for now. She knew that before this night was done, however, she'd not be able to. Being on Dragonstone again had stirred up thoughts that she'd not had up to now while planning the wedding. Wishes and dreams of things that could not be and she knew that Baelon felt the same as her in this regard. Both of them wished that their mothers could be here to see them wed and that Rhaegar could lead his sister to his son and see them joined. It could never be and yet she felt that somehow they would be here with them and that they would be happy for them too.

"You look a vision, my queen." Missandei said from behind her and Dany turned to look at her closest friend, soon finding herself being hugged and not sure if it was her or Missandei who'd initiated it.

"Is Ser Jorah…"

"He's outside, my queen, shall I fetch him?" Missandei asked and Dany nodded, both happy and sad to be left alone while Missandei did as she'd asked.

She took one last look in the looking glass and then moved towards the door, not making it to it before Ser Jorah and Missandei were both by her side once more. The look on her knight's face was one that she'd never seen him wear before. It was not one of longing or jealousy and she welcomed it and the words he spoke so softly to her as he took her arm.

"I've never seen you look so very beautiful or so very happy, Khalessi. I am in his grace's debt for bringing that look to your face and it pleases me greatly that you've found such a man." he said and Dany leaned into him and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

His feelings for her were well known to her by now, though it had taken her time to know the full extent of them. It made how he'd felt about Drogo, Daario, and Hizdahr all the more clear and to hear him say he didn't feel that way about Baelon was something that she'd hoped for. For as much as it was his own wishes to be with her, something that never could be, it was his doubts about her choice of lover or husband that had influenced Jorah just as much. He'd never found any of them worthy of her and so knowing that he felt Baelon was, only made her own belief that much stronger.

Leaving the room it was to find Ghost waiting for them, the white wolf moving to stand by her side as Grey Worm and her Unsullied escort along with her two Dothraki guards all readied to lead her to the Godswood. She offered Grey Worm and Qhono both a smile and was surprised when both men returned one. Grey Worm was not really a man who showed his emotions and yet he looked as happy as Qhono was in her choice of husband or mayhap it was simply that he could see her own happiness as clearly as others could.

They walked through the keep, out into the courtyard, and across it, people stopping whatever they were doing to look at them as they did so. Men of the West, Dorne, Reach, and Riverlands. Of the North and the True North as the Free Folk named the lands beyond the Wall. Women too. All of them seemed happy that this wedding was to take place and she felt her steps grow ever firmer as she neared the Godswood and then she felt her breath hitch when she saw the lanterns as they illuminated her path to the Weirwood Tree.

"All is well, Khalessi?" Jorah asked when she stopped suddenly.

"All is well, Ser Jorah." she said as she looked to see Baelon standing by the Weirwood with Lord Davos and noticed the clothing he wore.

Baelon was wearing their house's colors. His usual black was for once joined by a red shirt and he looked every inch a dragon. When he turned to look at her, when she caught the expression on his face and saw the smile appear, her own beamed right back at him and she nodded to him that she was ready to become his wife.

"Who comes before the Old Gods this night?" Lord Davos called out.

"Daenerys of House Targaryen comes here to be wed. A queen grown, trueborn, and noble, she comes to beg the blessings of the Old Gods. Who comes to claim her?" Ser Jorah said without a hint of hesitancy or doubt.

"Baelon of House Targaryen, trueborn son of Rhaegar and Lyanna Targaryen and rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms. Who gives her?" Baelon said loudly.

"Ser Jorah of House Mormont who is her Queensguard and loyal friend."

The words had been agreed to by them both and with input from King Rickon, Lady Sansa, and Lady Wylla, as well as Lady Olenna. Baelon's claim superseded her own and while they would rule together and as equals, that claim had to be established in front of all those present here just as much as them being wed had to be seen by them all. There could be no doubt that they were together and that Baelon was who he said he was, not that there was any on either count.

Feeling Jorah squeeze her hand, she moved forward and stood next to Baelon. She felt his eyes on her as she did so, the look in them was one she had known only once before. Daario may have claimed that he loved her, but only Drogo had ever looked at her the way that Baelon now did and even his look didn't stir up the feelings that she was now experiencing.

"Queen Daenerys, do you take this man?" Lord Davos said and so lost was she in Baelon's eyes that it took her longer to answer than those watching expected and was it not for the feel of Ghost's tongue licking her hand, it may have taken even longer still.

"I take this man." she said firmly and though she felt it was loud, only she and Lord Davos heard the exhalation of air from Baelon's mouth.

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and it confused her for a moment until she saw it was King Rickon and that he held something in his hand. Something he handed to Baelon before moving away almost immediately and then she looked down and saw the cloak and watched as Baelon moved behind her and covered her with it. The warmth of it was like nothing she'd ever felt before and as she knelt beside her new husband, it finally struck home that it wasn't the cloak itself that was the reason for that warmth. It was that she was finally wed to a man she wanted with all her heart, a man who wanted her more than anything else in the world.

As he helped her back to her feet and she heard the cheers around her, as she felt him lean into her and kiss her deeply, she felt truly happy for probably the first time in her life. She giggled when he lifted her up and cradled her in his arms. Dany smiled truly as he walked with her held there and placed small kisses on her cheeks and lips as he did so. By the time they reached the Great Hall, she was already ready for their bed, and yet she wished to enjoy the feast too. When Baelon whispered in her ear, she felt the warmth of his breath and wondered what it would be like to feel that breath on other parts of her body, something she'd know before this night was done.

"You are happy, Dany?" Baelon asked as he placed her on the chair at the High Table and took his seat beside her.

"I am, for the first time in my life I'm truly happy." she said and though he didn't say the same to her then, the kiss they shared was enough to tell her that he felt that way too.

The feast itself was one of the very best she ever remembered or was likely ever to enjoy. Though the food wasn't lavish and the wines, not the very best the realm had to offer, it mattered not to her or to those present. She smiled when Baelon drank only one mug of ale and refused to drink the goat's milk that Tormund tried to get him to or the mare's milk that Qhono did likewise. All through the meal and the drinking he never let her hand go and not once did she not feel his touch on her or hers on him, both of them almost checking to make sure this was real and not a dream.

Though she spoke to Missandei and both her new Goodsisters, mainly she sat almost silently as did Baelon and it was only when they danced together that they truly spoke. Dany was unsurprised to find that just like her, her new husband was trying to take in every aspect of the night. Baelon had told her that he wished to remember every single moment of it and that he too had never felt as happy as he did right then. When the time came for the bedding, she laughed when Baelon rose to his feet and loudly proclaimed that any man who wished to disrobe his wife need only beat him, Ghost, and Rhaegal in a fight. For all three of them would protect her modesty and no man would look upon her that was not her husband.

It made her jape that she was happy to see any woman who wished to look upon her husband, go down even better, though no one dared try to disrobe him as the look in her eye showed that it was simply that, a jape. She barely heard the cheers when Baelon reached out to take her hand and she was soon laughing once again when he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the door. The words he whispered in her ear brought a blush to her face as she felt the flush of excitement truly take hold. Then before she knew it, they were alone and facing each other and for the first time, she saw some nervousness on her husband's face. A nervousness that was soon gone and replaced by an altogether more hungry look when she began to undress in front of him and Baelon quickly did the same.

"Do you like what you see, my king?" she asked as she stood in front of him naked for the first time, her own eyes roaming his body and much appreciating the sight and that his excitement was clear and he was already erect in front of her.

"More than any other sight I've ever known, my queen." he said huskily, and then she felt his lips on her own, his arms around her, and before the night was done, she found out that he knew many things and that he was just as much of a dragon as she was.

Winterfell 304 AC.

Wylla.

The others may have felt the gods were conspiring to stop the wedding, she did not and so she told them so. Baelon and Daenerys both needed to know just how important it was for them to wed and so she'd left them in no doubt. She cared not about the realm, or what it meant to the lords or ladies. True she knew that once they were wed it removed a huge potential problem in terms of succession and would stop whatever plots and schemes having them both unwed would see put into place. Wylla though only cared about the prince himself, about how he felt, and about his happiness.

No one deserved to know joy more than her prince, and so anything she could do to ensure that he did so, was a task she'd willingly undertake. So when Baelon and Daenerys shared the news of what they'd seen when in the South and when questions were asked and doubts were raised about having a wedding after that, she'd quickly put them to rest. She spoke to Daenerys and left her in no doubt that having the wedding was what needed to be done and then she'd gone to speak to her prince, to tell him the same thing.

"Do you think your mother and father were wrong to wed, Baelon?" she asked.

"No, I…I don't know."

"The world went to shit after they did so and yet not once did either of them believe they were in the wrong, not about that. Love matters, Baelon, it matters more than anything else in this world, and don't let anyone tell you differently."

"People may…"

"Fuck people." she said and he looked at her oddly "I don't mean it like that, but fuck them if they are against you wedding the woman you love. Fuck them if they think this wedding shouldn't go ahead, let them sit and watch and moan and bitch or let them dare say afterward that it shouldn't take place, they matter not."

"I thought the politics matter?" Baelon asked confusedly.

"Not more than what you feel in here." she said touching his chest "Nothing matters more than that. Do you love her?"

"You know I do." Baelon said firmly.

"Do you want her to be your wife?" she asked and he nodded "Then that's all that matters is it not?"

"Thank you." he said softly as she moved to the door.

"You never need to thank me, Baelon. Seeing you happy is all I wish before my time is done."

She'd spoken to the Red Priestess and found that she just like Wylla herself was of the same mind when it came to the wedding. As was the queen's friend, Missandei telling her that she would speak to her queen and remove any doubts that she may be feeling. That none of those doubts were about Baelon and their future was yet another reason why the wedding had needed to take place and so she'd felt even more right in seeing it so.

When Ned and Princess Sarella had wished to speak to the queen and to Baelon, Wylla had intervened and it was her they had the conversation with. Her words left them in no doubt that despite what had happened, what needed to happen next was the wedding, and nothing or no one would stop that from being so. She wasn't the only one who felt that way either as when the thing that was named Brandon Stark began his proclamations about the wedding needing to be delayed, stopped, or not taking place at all, King Rickon moved swiftly to shut him up. Her prince had no firmer advocate than the cousin he named a brother.

The wedding itself was everything she wished it to be. Her prince named himself a king and she stood with his family and those closest to him while he and the queen were joined together. To see the look on both their faces once they had been wed was to prove her right once more and as she made her way to the Great Hall, she looked forward to the feast and the night to come. Once there, her eyes sought out those whose own found the happy couple. Wylla looking for any who seemed perturbed or upset and who weren't showing the same joy as she and Baelon's family and friends or the Queen's people were.

She found fewer than she feared and for that she was thankful. Even amongst those who didn't seem as happy, it was not specifically the wedding that was the reason for it. Something that the Red Priestess was keen to let her know as they sat and drank and made merry. That she was the second person that Baelon danced with was a testament to how he felt about her and she, him. The relationship that she'd always wished to have with him and that had been denied to her by Ned Stark, was now one that she was finally enjoying. His words spoken softly to her were both thankful and wistful and she felt her tears begin to fall when he whispered in her ear.

"I never knew my mother and though I'd wish her here to see my joy this day, I know that cannot be. To have you here, to know of you, you've no idea how much that means to me, Wylla. Nor how much you do, thank you for everything."

Her words wouldn't come to her, her throat was dry and her tears fell only to be wiped away by her prince's fingers. The kiss he placed on her cheek brought a shudder to her, so emotional did she feel and though he was not her son and they'd been denied so much time together, she felt it just as keenly as if they'd spent their lives by each other's sides. When she took her seat it took her a few moments to compose herself and so she turned down the offers of dances that came her way. Only moving when the other boy she considered her son walked her way and held out his hand. By the time she and Ned had sat down, the bedding had been called for and she laughed loudly at Baelon's refusal to allow one to take place and the queen's jape that she'd be willing to see her new husband disrobed forcefully.

With a nod of his head and a smile that he aimed in her direction, Baelon took his bride by the hand and led her from the room. Wylla's own smile was full as he lifted her into his arms and carried her and as the revelry took on a different tone without them both present. Once again her eyes sought out the faces of those who'd looked to Baelon and Daenerys and once again she took note of any who showed the slightest doubt or anger. Unsurprisingly it was to be Brandon Stark who spoke aloud and his brother who had him removed from the Great Hall. This time, however, it was to be different as a raven had seemingly arrived bearing dark words, and soon enough, it was the King's Solar that she found herself in and not the Great Hall and a wedding feast.

"NO!." she said firmly after the contents of the raven were made clear.

"I've been warning you all, I told you this would…"

"I told you to shut the fuck up, speak no more brother or I'll see you removed." King Rickon said while glaring at Bran and Wylla looked to the others in the room.

Ser Jorah and Missandei represented the queen, Jaime Lannister and Tormund stood for the King while Lyanna Mormont, Barbrey Dustin, and Wyman Manderly represented the Northern Council. Princess Sarella and her sister Tyene along with Ned Dayne represented Dorne and Edmure Tully and Daven Lannister stood for the Riverlands and the Westerlands respectively. Lord Davos had been newly appointed as Lord Paramount of the Stormlands and yet he stood more for Baelon and Rickon than he did for them as of yet. While both Thoros and Melisandre had been asked to attend along with all of the Starks.

"Lady Wylla?" King Rickon asked looking at her.

"I said, NO! Nothing can be done about this tonight, To speak to their graces would serve only to spoil their wedding night and it's bad enough we'll be spoiling their first day as man and wife as it is. Give them the night, your grace, give them the night, and should they find fault in you doing so then I'll gladly take their ire. But give them the night I beg of you." she said and saw both Arya and Sansa nod, others in the solar doing likewise.

"Lady Wylla is right, brother. Nothing is to be gained by disturbing our brother and Goodsister and far more is to be lost by doing so. Let at least one member of our family know a true wedding night." Sansa said almost sadly and Wylla watched as Arya reached out to take her sister's hand and squeeze it gently.

"Aye, your sister has the right of it, King Pup." Tormund said and she smiled at him for doing so.

"They need to know, we must tell them!" Bran said loudly.

"I told you to fucking shut up. Guards!" Rickon called out and within a moment the guards had arrived "See that my brother is confined to his rooms, he's to speak to no one until I tell you otherwise."

She saw the brief look of anger on Brandon Stark's face and then it was gone so suddenly that it was almost as if she'd imagined it. Though looking to Tormund, Melisandre, and Lyanna Mormont it was clear she had not.

"I'll speak to my brother and Goodsister on the morrow, no one is to disturb them before then and the night's festivities are not to be stopped. The war is upon us and this may very well be the last night we know feasting, drinking, or dancing, we may as fucking well enjoy it as not." King Rickon said to a slap on his back from Tormund and nods from the Northern and Dornish representatives.

Edmure Tully and Daven Lannister didn't seem best pleased. but they raised no argument against what was decided and as she left the solar she moved to speak Missandei and Ser Jorah.

"Your men guard the King and Queen's rooms?" she asked.

"Aye, Unsullied and Dothraki along with Grey Worm himself." Ser Jorah said.

"Mayhap you should tell them to ensure that no one comes close to those rooms, not even to pass them."

"I shall see it done, Lady Wylla, and on the morrow when you speak to his grace, I'll stand with you and speak to her grace as well. Let it be said that I too agreed that this should be kept from them this night." Missandei said and then with a nod of her head and a turn, both she and Ser Jorah walked off and Wylla had no doubt that it was to make sure that no one got close to the rooms that night.

She felt she was right in this, that she was doing as Lyanna herself would have done. The king and queen had much that depended on them, the fate of the realm and of life itself if the tales were true which she believed they were. Let them have one night where all they had to worry about was each other, it would not be something they'd know in the nights to come and so they deserved at least this small measure of peace.

"May the Old Gods and the New see that it's not but one night they know such a feeling." she said softly as she walked back to the Great Hall.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next As the army moves to face the threat at the wall, we take a look at what Baelon, Davos, and Dany faced in the south and find out why there was some reluctance on their parts for their wedding to take place. In regards to the words Rickon spoke, they will be explained later.

A/N2: I want to thank every single person who wished me well after my crash and let you know that your words and thoughts meant a lot to me and helped me greatly during my recovery. I'm doing well now, the injuries are healing and I'm back writing full time, so there should with any luck, be no more delays. But again, your thoughts and well wishes really meant a lot to me, thank you all so very much.

Daryl Dixon: So happy you liked it.

Lawkeeper: Rickon really is the catalyst and that's why my co-writer is so keen to give him some of the very best lines. Without him, things would just simply play out as canon and well we all know how bad that was. With Bran and him there is this underlying sense of abandonment that he's not willing to accept anymore too, not to mention more than meets the eye. For me Bran, Show Bran, only works as a villain. There is pretty much no other way to interpret his actions and lack of actions as he's working to his own agenda and he wants the throne. The whole telling Sam to tell Jon the truth when he does makes no sense otherwise. You don't drop that bomb on the eve of such an important battle and he had plenty of time to tell him from the moment he returned to Winterfell, Sam too for that matter. So why tell him at that specific time if not to get the reaction he did?

With the KG, you can see here more explanation why I went with Jonathor rather than any of the others. But mainly it fit into the narrative nicely as it gives him the claim to the keep, something we know he wishes for. I agree it can be too cliché, but it serves what's to come and that's my reasoning for it.

My main argument against Lyanna being held as a prisoner, even if it was briefly and only after her father/brother's deaths is that there is no hatred towards Rhaegar from Ned and I also don't see Arthur Dayne following that order from his prince. Now could I be wrong, of course, but I can't see how that wouldn't be something that Lyanna would tell Ned in her final moments. "I wanted to come home, but they refused to let me leave" type deal, so I find it hard to reconcile her being a prisoner at all. I think a lot of the rest of what you say is more plausible, she certainly was a girl who had some sense of romance and adventure and she also wished to be free of her betrothal. In regards to Rhaegar fucking up, yes he did, big time. But taking out Aerys wasn't as easy as you make it out. He had Arthur on his side, but the Bold, Gerold? Oswell, Jonathor? Would they have followed him if he actually acted violently against the king? I don't think so. Not to mention that Aerys did have followers and men in his corner too. So making the direct move could very well have led to his death and to his families' deaths.

So he came up with the Harrenhal plan, to bring the realm to his side and then act. Could he have moved quicker and more decisively, yes, but there was a risk in it too and the one thing I've no doubt on, Rhaegar didn't wish his father dead. Cregan Stark took two years to remove his uncle from his seat, simply because he didn't go full-on as he knew he'd lose, he waited, bided his time and made plans and was able to remove him without the need to kill him and Rhaegar I think tried the same. His own personality, his flaws, and his actions led him to fail.

Taran: True and yet not at the same time. Those who've dealt with Bran directly no longer believe him. Rickon, Jon, Sansa, Arya, Tormund, and others, but even if you don't believe him it doesn't mean his words can't cause you hurt or pain. He plays into people's fears, he did so with Sansa, Arya, Rickon, Davos and does so here with Dany. People may not believe him, but that doesn't mean when he tells them a half-truth or plays on that fear, his words aren't listened to. Anyway, hopefully, this chapter shows a little more of what you would like to see in regards to Bran and I hope you like what's to come with him.

Malser: Thanks so very much.

Suppes: I do too, it's some of the hardest things to read or write for me, though I do usually like the parts that come after when it's clear they can't be separated.

Rhatch: Thanks so very much.

Celeyxs: Thanks for saying that in regards to Sansa, we wanted to show this part of her but needed to get her past the earlier more show-based version of her, to have her grow so that this felt natural and not forced. I do promise with Bran that eventually when he gets his just rewards it will be worth it.

Kingmanena: So very glad you enjoyed it.

Sven: Bran has been separated, what he's not been is confined to a dungeon or locked room all the time. He's also able to manipulate people and because he's their brother, or was their brother, he's not been killed or treated worse by them. Which is part of the reason why he's able to sew so much discourse. Were he another character, unrelated to them, say he was Melisandre for example, then he'd be dead already. But it's taken time for each of the Starks to come to realize the games he's playing and for them to reach this point with him. Since he played a lot of those games separately and spent most of the early part of the story doing his best to create divides between them. They're now at the point where they don't believe a word out of his mouth, yet still, they don't know the full extent of what he's up to and think it's only that he's misdirected and not that he's actively working against them.

Supremus: Yes and no. There is no doubt that Tywin was a terrible father, not just to Tyrion, though he suffered the worst of all. But does that excuse Tyrion killing him in cold blood, because that's what he did. He had no need to kill him, he literally sought him out to do so. Regardless of that, killing your father is kin slaying and in that world, that's the worst crime anyone can do. The fact the show pretty much ignores this and it's never brought up other than by Jaime or Cersei was just pathetic. Dany having Tyrion by her side would lose her support right away and he'd never be accepted as being Hand of the King. Remember also, Tyrion lost a trial by combat which in the eyes of Westeros establishes him as a kin slayer of Joffrey too. The fact he didn't do it matters not, perception would be that he's a kin slayer.

Nikkero: You're wrong about that, they have talked about him and they don't trust him. He is being watched and yet there are ways around that, hence him blackmailing a servant or using his powers to know when the perfect time is for him to make his moves. What they haven't done is lock him up properly under guard and not allowed him any freedom whatsoever, simply because they don't yet understand that he's actively working against them, all they know is that he's tried to use them against each other for some reason, but they still think he's on their side when it comes to the war. His being able to maneuver himself so he can meet with Dany and do as he did, is not a huge leap considering he can literally see events play out before they do and see and know when is the best time to put his plan into action. After doing so, however, he no longer has any trust left between him and his siblings, it was the final straw but sometimes when it's someone we used to love, it takes a long time for the final straw to be reached.

Dunk: It was a final throw of the dice for him and as you see, Baelon wasn't having any of it. Bran's plans are a bit like LF's in a way, convoluted is a nice way of putting them. Though he have reached desperation stages now. With Bronn it was more about the reveal of who his father was than anything else, Bran saw in his looking into the past just how much Bronn hated his father for abandoning him and so he tried to use that to his advantage. We'll see with Jaqen lol.

Guest: Oh Bran will get his don't worry. I think that's a fair assessment, compared to what we see with the others, Ned comes across as heroic and since we don't know at that point the truth about Jon or Ned's thoughts on that truth, we don't look at Ned in a negative light. It's pretty much once we know the truth about Jon that Ned's actions then look far different. Jon as a bastard son with no prospects going to the NW doesn't strike us as anything bad, yes we feel a little for him but his reasoning seems valid. Then we find out he's not Ned's son, he may very well be the true heir to the Iron Throne and he's been lied to all his life and that Ned is, in essence, shipping his sister's son to the Wall and refusing him the information to make an informed choice about whether or not he wishes to go there.
So in retrospect, every action Ned takes, pretty much looks far worse. Accepting to be Robert's Hand doesn't work as well as being by his brother by choice when you realize that said brother by choice would see Jon dead and laughed over the bodies of his siblings. Betrothing Sansa to Joffrey doesn't come across as doing what's best for your child and house when you realize that in essence he's usurping his nephew and letting him go to the Wall so he can father no children to challenge your grandchildren in the future. The biggest of all though is that this is the life you gave your sister's son, yes you allowed him to be raised with your children and you kept him safe from harm, but to what end if all you intended was to give him no real future.

Lady Octarina: So glad you liked the reveal. Jaime has a key purpose yet to be seen. That was my thought with Bronn, HG is a joke, let's face it. But the idea that he actually has a keep and didn't know is just a fun one for me. As you see with Dany it was a combo of Missandei going to Baelon and Baelon himself. Jaqen's choice will be revealed very soon, a chapter more I think.

Scarilla: Bronn's reveal is true, Bran does that a little, uses the truth as much as he lies. Sansa's arc has been leading to this side of her, so I'm glad you liked it. We'll see, though with Jaqen he really is on a mission and so he won't be easy to dissuade. You too, hope your 2022 is even better than your 2021 was.

Mrmcnasty: You can argue that he did the same in the show, Dany was pretty much guaranteed to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and yet his plans worked (if you accept him as a villain) though he overplayed his hand here big time and unlike the show, found a very different Jon Snow. We'll see with Jaqen.

Wryesenseofhumour: Me too, he has just the right amount of humor that it adds to his vids rather than distracts from them, he's also a writer too, has written a few novels which aren't half bad.

I think that's the problem, it's forcing diversity and shoehorning it into established lore, I mean look at the new LOTR for example. We're getting a warrior Galadriel which is completely against her established character and to add insult to injury, they're placing her in a war and place that she wasn't. So rather than come up with a different warrior elf woman, they take an established lore character and change her to suit their agenda, then wonder why people get pissed when they do so. It's not about the diversity, we need more not less of that, it's about forcing it in without thinking it through.

I think only Olenna got any sort of decent ending, not the best one, but at least she got to give her reveal and be Snarky, the others all got screwed completely. Benjen is just wasted, the BF killed off-screen when he would have been so very interesting thrown into the dynamics in the North. Ellaria too, and they even screwed over the actress as they didn't tell her it was her last scene until she shot it and she's yet another who's refused to work with them ever again, says something about them don't you think.

God, I loved that aspect of Oldman's Dracula, all I'll say here is that the NK has a reason and we'll be finding it out soon, but it's not simply revenge, it's far more than that.

For Jon not to be angry at the gods is not something that I would understand, especially if he's to be some messianic figure. Yes you could argue that all roads lead him to where he is and without traveling those roads he'd not rise as he should, but from Jon's perspective, he'd be wrong not to wonder if he needed to travel every one of them, which is what I was going for her. I do think the spiritual aspect of the gods is a key part of ASOIAF and I try to play with as much as I can in each of my fics. I've probably made the Old Gods act far more directly at times, but for story reasons and with a reasoning behind why they've done so. So without spoiling too much, we'll see some of that here.

They do yes, Valyrian Steel has that quality, the bows the same, I think some little aspects of them need to be explained in the context of the story too, for example here before we're done, I'll be giving a reasoning behind Valyrian Steel and a certain sword especially.

Very much so with Bran, he crossed a line here and it's something I've tried to say in regards to why he's been allowed to get away with so much for so long. Because of who he is, he's given more freedom and rope to hang himself with than so many others. I know some people are annoyed he's been able to sew so much discourse, but he's still technically kin and it makes more sense that he has plot armor because of that than it does for LF to be able to freely stroll around in the North after all he'd done. But he's gone too far now and there will be consequences because of it.

As you see with Bronn, he'd made up his mind long ago, hope this clears that up. I think so too and Rickon is the best character to show that side of things, the time for games is not now and it annoyed the hell out of me that Sansa was playing those games when she was in the show. Her actions could have led to the North's destruction and yet she was playing the game of thrones while the dead were marching, it makes no damn sense.

I hated that with Arya, there is no way that she'd be allowed to simply walk away unless that was the intent of the FM, so they could have simply added a moment where Jaqen made that clear, and yet instead they left it as an unresolved plot point. Here, we've been hinting from when she arrived in WF that the FM weren't best pleased with her, not so much with her leaving, but with her bringing the gift to those who hadn't been chosen by the Many Faced God.