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

19. World was on Fire, No one could save Me

Somewhere in Westeros 304 AC.

Lord Davos Seaworth.

Flying over the lands beneath them was as terrifying as it was breathtaking. Yet Davos couldn't appreciate the one-of-a-kind opportunity he had been offered, for his nerves were getting the better of him.

Although the letter he'd been given had shown him that he was expected by his family, he couldn't help but feel immense anxiety at the thought of seeing them again. He had lost so much time with his sons, so many years that he would never be able to recover and to think that they were all soon to be men made him both proud and regretful. Steffon would have three and ten namedays, and Davos hadn't seen his little boy since he was but seven. Devan was nine and ten and Stannis six and ten. They were men already and they had lived so many years without their father which begged questions he feared the answers to.

Why would they need him?

How could they need him?

What would he do if they didn't?

If it hadn't been for the Lordship and the responsibilities that the Queen had gracefully bestowed to him, one of the best legacies he could offer his sons, he wasn't sure he would have made the journey. Though watching Baelon's crash loudly on the ground, with no care for propriety and his mind clearly elsewhere, Davos felt it would be a welcome getaway for the both of them.

"Still worrying about seeing your family?" Baelon asked, pulling Davos out of his thoughts.

"Aye. It's been a while."

"I know, but you said they were waiting for you."

"That's what they said in the letter, but… What if they change their minds when they see me? What if they don't know how much they truly resent me until that moment?" he asked worriedly.

"Then you will just have to get on your knees and beg for their forgiveness, but you will at least have a chance to do this before it's too late." Baelon said, and he could hear the sadness in the lad's voice. "What do you think would happen if you die fighting the Army of the Dead? Do you think your sons will not hate you for not coming back when you had the chance to do so? I do not want them to think that in the end, they didn't matter to their father when I know dawn that it is not the case. Believe me, had I but the chance to…."

Davos felt chastised by the future King's words. Of course, he had thought about that eventuality and he would be devastated if they thought he didn't love them enough to come to them. Not when everything he was trying to do was so that they would have a deserved life, or at the very least a chance to live a full one.

Not wanting to dwell on his thoughts, he decided to change the subject.

"Speaking about family, how do you feel about yours right now, lad?" he asked and felt Baelon tense at those words.

"If you're speaking about Bran, he had it coming a long time ago."

"I know. You almost became a kinslayer, though, Baelon."

"I do not see that thing as my kin anymore. After all he's done, after he manipulated our whole family to whatever it is that he wished to accomplish, after all the hurt and the helplessness he has sprung upon their minds without even caring, and…"

"And after he tried to separate you from Queen Daenerys, I get it. And I also get that you do not see him as kin, but he still is, and the last thing I'd want is for you to get cursed because of his sordid games."

"What should I do then if he continues? Ask him calmly to stop whatever he's trying to accomplish? I already asked nicely. I threatened him politely and it didn't work. I warned him, Davos, yet he continued, what should have I done?" Baelon asked exasperatedly.

"You made your point. I'm sure he understands now. And I'm sure too that there are other ways to prevent Bran from intervening in what doesn't concern him."

"Rickon is not so sure of that. He fears Bran is too powerful to just ignore and that he is bidding his time. He…" Baelon stopped and shook his head. "I'm not worried about what Bran could do to me, rather what he could do to the people I love. I know he spoke to you."

It was Davos' turn to tense as he remembered what Bran said to him after the incident with Rickon.

"He did."

"And it affected you, didn't it?" Baelon asked.

"Aye. But I -"

"I could feel you holding back for my sake when I arrived. Is it about Shireen and the promise I made you?"

"The Red Woman is still alive." Davos said bitterly.

"And she knows I intend to stay true to my promise to you, Davos. We also need her in the fight to come."

"I was afraid she got to you as she did with Stannis. That you felt you owed her so much that you kept stalling and tried placating me with your oath." he said relievedly.

"Why didn't you tell me of this sooner, Davos?" Baelon asked and Davos shook his head, not knowing how to respond. "I asked Melisandre to confess her crimes to Daenerys when she was in the South. She told her and the Small Council of the South what she did to Shireen. It has been formally decided that her execution will take place after the fight against the Dead and that I will be the one to swing the sword."

"So her being alive still is a political matter?"

"No, Davos. You know of her powers, you know that should something happen she would be able to help. Both Rickon and Dany want to keep her alive should one of us fall, whilst I just want to make sure that my oath to you would be carried out."

"Are you sure you're not saying this because you don't want to kill her?" Davos asked, the bite in his voice making it clear just how disappointed he was.

"I won't deny that I owe Melisandre a lot, and I would be a liar if I said I'd not grown to care about her. I will not take her life with joy in my heart, yet take it I will. For whatever fondness I might have for her, I can not excuse the atrocious crime that she committed." Baelon said and whether he was speaking not as firmly as he may have done or his feeling for the Red Witch came across too much for Davos' liking, he needed more.

"What is there to say that she won't have you pardon her when the war is over?"

"Your anger towards me is justified and I fully accept it, but I will not have you question my word. I gave it to you and I will uphold it, even if I feel that there's something you have forgotten in your obsession to see her dead." Baelon said slightly angrily.

"What could I have forgotten?" Davos asked, more curious about Baelon's reasoning than angry at him.

"You're losing yourself in your hatred for her. I could have swung the sword right after she had saved Rickon, named her for who she was, and cut her head off. But then nobody would have heard her confess what she did, and Shireen's memory would have faded with her. Now, everyone knows, and Shireen's fate will never be forgotten. It doesn't make much of a difference when it comes to vengeance, but it does when it comes to justice."

Baelon's words were so full of conviction that the knight could see how truly he believed what he was saying. He had been honest with him when he could have lied and placated him, and all of it made sense. Davos felt guilty for not thinking of this, for thinking of revenge rather than making sure that Shireen would be remembered. He nodded, a lump forming in his throat as he realized that Baelon had his interest to heart more than he had believed, and he felt an ass for having doubted him.

"We should get some rest." was all he could say and Baelon nodded, smiling sadly.

The flight to Cape Wrath on their second day felt longer but less tense than the day before. Davos' anxiety grew as they neared his lands. The view of Storm's End as it loomed on the horizon was astounding, and he still couldn't believe that the keep would soon become his. He signaled to Baelon the way to head and soon his own small keep came into view, making Davos' heart beat faster. He'd almost forgotten how much he'd loved spending time there with his wife and sons, hunting for red deer in the woods and enjoying the comfort of the growing keep he had built from naught. All these memories came back when he spotted Cape Wrath, and with them the pain and shame he'd felt for so long. He hoped Devan, Stannis and Steffon still enjoyed living in this place without him.

He could see people rushing out of it when Rhaegal circled it to signal his presence before carefully landing on the outskirts of the keep. He struggled to get down from the dragon's back, his legs shaking so much with all the anxiety he felt, he thought he would collapse, and he was grateful Baelon was there to steady him. The future king's reassuring smile and a pat on his shoulder gave him the incentive to walk to the waiting household.

His family. Would they recognize him? he thought once more until his gaze fell over his wife's fearful one. She was still as beautiful as he remembered, if not more so. Even with the grey specks on her hair probably due to her worrying too much about his prickly arse Her eyes widened when she recognized him and he stood paralyzed with anguish as she walked slowly toward him.

"Am I dreaming?" she asked and he shook his head, too emotional to manage to speak, as there were so many things coming at once in his mind.

When he felt her hand caress his cheek and her body pressed to his, he finally crumbled and held her tightly. He could hear her, feel her sobs shaking against his body while he let his free all the same. Nothing around him mattered, nothing but the feeling of her against him, the smell of her hair as he buried his head in it, not wanting to let her go.

"Father? Is that… Is that truly you?" a frail voice coming from behind Marya made his heart skip a beat.

Davos lifted his head and gasped as he recognized his youngest son. Steffon hadn't changed much. His bright brown eyes full of wonder were glistening with tears and Davos felt unworthy, yet happy to bring so much joy to his son. He gestured him to come closer and embraced him with his free arm, not willing to release his wife from his hold yet.

"I'm sorry… I am so sorry…" was all he could say to them as he let himself be overwhelmed by all the emotions he had tried to bury for all these past few years.

"Nonsense." Marya said, forcing him to look at them. "You're here. You came. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I…"

"I meant what I said in the letter. You have to stop punishing yourself. We all believed in Stannis Baratheon being the best choice as king of the Seven Kingdoms. Matthos would have gone by himself anyway. 'Tis not your fault, Davos. 'Tis part of life." Marya insisted, brushing away his tears. "Is the fight over? Are you here for good?"

Davos shook his head and suddenly realized they weren't alone.

"I needed to see you all before going to fight. Prince Baelon brought me to spend some time with you." A look at a smiling Baelon let him know that the prince didn't care about being introduced properly.

"Prince… Oh shit!" Marya exclaimed, pushing her husband away and looking at Baelon with embarrassment as she curtsied. "I'm sorry, Your Grace, I…"

"Do not be concerned with me, my lady. I understand and I am glad to witness so touching reunion." Baelon replied, still smiling.

"I… Thank you for bringing him back, even for a moment. Cape Wrath is yours, Your Grace." she said and Davos' heart clenched as he thought that he could never see her again.

"Lord Davos here has helped me and my family countless times. Bringing him here was the least I could do to thank him."

"Lord?" Steffon exclaimed suddenly. "You're a Lord, now, Father?"

"Aye. I… It's a long story. Better take it inside. Where are your…" Davos couldn't finish his sentence, as his eyes fell on two men standing awkwardly in front of the household. "By the Gods… Devan, Stannis…"

"Hello, Father." they both said tentatively.

Davos' heart burst with joy as he rushed to greet his two other sons. Devan was starting to have a beard and looked so much like a younger version of him, though when he was a smuggler and not a knight. As for Stannis, he had his mother's smile. Davos stopped short of embracing them, not knowing if they wanted him to, but to his relief, they closed the gap between them and embraced him wholeheartedly.

For the first time in years, surrounded by his family, Davos Seaworth felt whole.

The feast his wife and sons celebrated for his arrival was sumptuous. They really went out of their way to greet them and honor their reunion by making Davos' favorite dishes, and he was surprised to realize how much food they were served. Davos enjoyed the meals greatly, and so did Baelon, who had been all but ordered by his wife to attend the dinner when he had wanted to leave them all to catch up.

"I bet you don't regret staying now, do you?" Davos teased, making Baelon laugh.

"Not that I've really been given a chance to refuse, have I?"

"Aye, Marya can be bossy when she wants." he agreed, joining in the laughter.

"I apologize, Your Grace. Those are simple meals, but -" Marya started, only to be stopped by Baelon.

"These are the most delicious ones I have eaten in some time, Lady Seaworth."

"Surely you're jesting!"

"Ask your husband, my Lady. I swear the last time I have eaten so well, was when I dined with the queen on Dragonstone or mayhap the days before I arrived at the Wall."

"You were of the Night's Watch?" Steffon inquired.

"Aye, lad, I was. I am sure your father will tell you of my story later." Baelon said and Davos nodded.

"Did you really travel here on the dragon's back, father?" Devan asked excitedly.

"I did, Son. Rhaegal and his Grace are bonded and were it not for them I wouldn't be here today."

"You sell yourself short, Davos." Baelon countered, turning his attention to Steffon and Devan. "Were it not for your father, I wouldn't be here today to ride Rhaegal. I owe him a lot, truly."

"I only did what I thought was right, Your Grace."

"Your father has a tendency to downplay his role in everything he does. Is it a trait he always had, Lady Marya?" Baelon asked amusedly.

"Oh, please, call me Marya, Your Grace. And to answer your question, it is. He almost refused the knighthood Lord Stannis had offered. If it hadn't been for the lands given to the title and the opportunity to give Matthos a proper education, he wouldn't have accepted." she said smiling and not realizing how speaking their son's name had dampened Davos' mood.

"Well, it seems that history does repeat itself. Did you tell them already, Davos?"

"I… I hadn't…"

"What happened?" Marya frowned.

"Is it about the fact that you're Lord now, Father?" Steffon asked.

"You're a bright lad, Steffon. Very observant. You remind me of my brother Rickon." Baelon answered, smiling fondly.

"I do?"

"Aye. Your Father has been named Lord of Storm's End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands." Baelon explained and everyone gaped at him.

"Storm's End?" Devan repeated while Marya stared at him with disbelief.

"Queen Daenerys and I are adamant that we need a man like Lord Davos to rule over the Stormlands. He at first didn't think he was worthy of the honor -"

"That's my husband for ya, Your grace." Marya snorted. "You're really giving him Storm's End?"

"Aye, we will. We want him to be the Lord Paramount. Your son Devan, who is his official heir, would inherit the title and the keep after his death."

"I don't know what to say, Your Grace…" Devan said, looking flustered.

"What will happen to Cape Wrath, Your Grace?"

"It is still yours to give, my Lady. If you want one of your other sons to have it later, it can be done. There can be as many cadet branches of House Seaworth as you have children."

"You mean I could have a keep?" Steffon asked happily.

"Try being a knight first, kid, wasn't that your dream?" Davos inquired, ruffling his son's hair.

"It still is, but I am no one's squire…" Steffon sighed sadly before regaining his cheerful composure. "Oh! Do you have a squire, Your Grace?"

"Oh no. I'm no knight and never will be, but if you truly wish to serve a good and true knight then look no further than your father. For no man is more true and good than he." Baelon said and his words, as well as the proud smiles of his sons and wife, warmed Davos' heart.

They talked through the night about what they'd lived through, Marya and Devan speaking about life in the Stormlands after Stannis' death while Baelon and Davos explained what happened with the Targaryens. Steffon had fallen asleep and had been carried to bed by his mother when Davos' older sons decided to approach the subject of the dead coming.

"I want to leave with you." Devan spoke firmly, making Davos shake his head.

"Absolutely not."

"But Father… You said you'll need all the help you can. I can fight!"

"So can I!" Stannis added.

"There is no way in the seven hells that I would let you fight these things."

"But -"

"How can you expect us to sit idle when you're risking your life?" Devan said, visibly hurt by their dismissal.

"I understand your father." Baelon said. "If I could prevent my brother and sister from fighting, I would. I am still trying to come up with a plan to make them sit out of the conflict without them raising seven hells about it. You two are the future of House Seaworth. Should we fail, should the dead win against our forces, it will come to you and those still standing to defend and protect Westeros. So train, fight, prepare yourselves, and pray that we never have to call you, for war is a terrible thing."

Davos could see that his sons were not convinced, but they wouldn't argue against a Prince and he was grateful for Baelon's intervention. He would do anything so that his children never had to fight, and looking at the future king, he knew he would not be the only one.

Baelon excused himself not so long after, as he was set to travel to King's Landing on the morrow, and both Devan and Stannis went to bed after Davos promised them that he would not leave before a few days. When he lay next to his wife that night, Davos also promised himself to remember every little part of her so he would have another reason to come back.

The Riverlands/King's Landing, 304 AC.

Baelon Targaryen.

Flying on Rhaegal allowed him to clear his mind somewhat, as had having Davos with him. He chuckled to himself at how nervous the man behind him was and how tightly he held onto him. A part of him almost daring himself to give him a flight he'd never forget, but he'd not be so cruel to a man who meant so much to him. That he'd save for Tormund and his damn pecker japes. Being in the air was freeing, his mind was connected to the Green Dragon beneath him and Rheagal's own calm and contentment fuelled his somewhat.

He needed it badly as while he'd loosed his temper on Bran, he'd not fully exhausted it. It still burned and longed to be let loose again and for once it was the Dragon's fire and not Ghost's cold that soothed him and allowed him to keep it in check. They landed before night fell and he and Davos had a conversation that he longed for and one he almost wished he could avoid. Baelon listened as Davos told him the rights and wrongs of what he did and as he told his reasons for his actions before they then spoke on Melisandre.

It was one of the hardest conversations he'd ever had. Davos' hurt and anger made him say things that he never would normally and even accuse him of things that threatened to raise his ire, though only because it was someone else he was angered at. He hoped he'd made himself clear, that his words had brought comfort to a man who deserved it more than most. That the conflict he had about those words didn't come across as fully as it may have. As make no mistake, he was conflicted. The debt he owed to Melisandre already was one that he could never repay. She'd given him back his brother, helped him come to terms with who he truly was, and her advice and counsel were much valued.

Yet she'd killed a young girl. A girl that though he'd not spent much time with, reminded him a little of his own sisters before the world went to shit. Melisandre had erred in her mistaken belief that Stannis was who it turned out that Baelon had always been destined to be. That to serve the Prince that was Promised, to see R'hllor's chosen had all he needed to succeed, Melisandre had committed an act that there was no forgiveness for. It had been why he'd sought her confession in front of Dany and so many others, Baelon needing them to look upon things with a clarity that he feared he may lose.

"She must die, Jon, I know she means much to you, but she must pay for her crimes." Dany said as they stood alone on the cliffs.

"I'd not be here today were it not for her, Dany. You've seen the scars for yourself. I don't just mean she brought me back either, her counsel has made me more than what I was….I not only owe her so much, I…."

"You care for her." Dany said softly "She means much to you." she added slightly put out.

"I….I knew not my mother, Dany. I never…..there was no one who….I…."

"Oh, Jon."

Hearing Davos as he awakened, he shook the thoughts from his mind and did his best to concentrate on other ones. After breaking their fast on fish that he'd caught while Davos slept, they mounted Rhaegal again and took to the sky once more. Despite his eagerness to meet Davos' family, it was to King's Landing and the lands surrounding it that he bid Rhaegal fly and he was pleased to see that all looked well, though he resolved to speak to Lady Olenna and the Small Council before he and Davos returned to the North.

Cape Wrath was a small keep, one that he had wished for himself at one time in days gone past. A forlorn hope that his uncle would name him a Stark and grant him a keep and lands, that he may be allowed to wed and have something to offer any children he was graced with, had been something he'd dreamt about most nights. It was not to be. Yet he was happy to see Davos' wife and children move quickly to the nervous man and their reunion allowed him to force thoughts of Ned Stark from his mind.

"Prince… Oh shit!" Marya exclaimed, pushing her husband away and looking at Baelon with embarrassment as she curtsied. "I'm sorry, Your Grace, I…"

"Do not be concerned with me, my lady. I understand and I am glad to witness a so touching reunion." Baelon replied, still smiling.

Dinner with Davos and his family was something he enjoyed greatly, even if he felt he was intruding a little. He did his best to talk up how much he valued the counsel and support he'd received from the husband and father of those he ate with, not allowing Davos to diminish his role or importance to what they'd achieved or hoped to whenever he tried to do so. When one of his sons bid him take him to squire, he spoke words that were straight from the heart and saw how much they affected Davos to hear them. Davos may not be a swordsman of note and he doubted he'd win any jousts, but as true knights go, Baelon would rank him with the very best of them.

He slept a dreamless sleep and woke up early to break his fast. When Davos' sons bid him spar with them, he did so gladly. Teaching them as he did Rickon rather than beating them as he would in his own normal sparring sessions. At one point he was asked to show off his true prowess and seeing Davos nod to him, Baelon bid four of the keep's guards to take him on. Well trained though they were, they were no match for him and he saw the youngest of Davos' sons trying to match his movements as he watched the fight.

"I'll return in a day or so, give you time to spend with your wife and family, Davos." he said as the man escorted him from the keep.

"Be safe, lad."

"Aye I will." he said as Rhaegal landed and as he moved to the dragon, something made him stop and turn "They're as lucky to have you as you are them, Davos. Remember that should you feel unworthy of them."

"Thanks, lad." Davos said and as Rhaegal took to the sky, Baelon looked down to see Davos' youngest son run join his father, smiling at the sight of the lad's hair being ruffled; he then turned to head for King's Landing.

The flight was one that he didn't seek to hurry. Baelon again enjoyed the peace and tranquillity that being in the air and connected to the Green Dragon brought him. He practiced seeing through Rhaegal's eyes, spoke to the Green Dragon without speaking, and heard the trills he made at sharing this with him. Far too soon they reached Kings Landing and landed in the Dragonpit, Baelon climbing down from Rhaegal's back and moving to his head so he could thank him and look him in the eyes.

"Nyke kirimvose, ñuha raqiros. Nyke kirimvose syt mirre ao've gaomagon. Īlon'll sōvegon hēnkirī arlī aderī, jikagon, ipradagon, ēdrugon, se gō ao gīmigon ziry īlon'll sagon arlī lēda aōha muña se brothers. Aderī aōha muña se kesan sagon joined se isse jēda ao'll emagon tolī brothers se sisters, Rhaīgal, va bisa emā ñuha kivio." (I thank you, my friend. I thank you for all you've done. We'll fly together again soon, go, eat, sleep, and before you know it we'll be back with your mother and brothers. Soon your mother and I will be joined and in time you'll have more brothers and sisters, Rhaegal, on this you have my promise.)"

He felt the warm air that was blown out of Rhaegal's mouth, saw the look in the dragon's eyes that he could only name as true joy. Then he heard first the trills and then the loud roar, Baelon laughing as Rhaegal took to the air and at how he seemed to show off for him as he did so. As he walked through the city, he was still laughing somewhat. Words ringing out in his head that he'd have no doubt would be spoken to him were people to know he was doing so alone and without guards.

"You cannot risk yourself so, brother."

"You're a king, Baelon, you need to be guarded at all times."

"It's why the Kingsguard were created, your grace."

"You didn't even have Ghost with you brother, how could you be so foolish."

"Am I to be surrounded by foolish brave men all my life."

Upon reaching the Red Keep, unmolested he may add, he soon found the voices in his head to be joined by those very much not. Varys, Olenna, and to his surprise even Ellaria Sand all made the same comments about his safety. Baelon allowed them to do so and promised that he'd seek to take fewer risks in the future. It was no lie, though while they may have thought that meant he'd no longer walk without guards, for him it meant something completely different since he felt he'd taken no risk in simply walking by himself.

"What brings you to King's Landing, Jon?" Olenna asked as she sent a servant for refreshments.

"I've just come from Cape Wrath, my lady. I've let Lord Davos there to speak to his family and felt the man deserved some time not having to worry about my northern arse." he said to a smirk from Olenna and a chuckle from Ellaria "So I'm at a loss for what to do and felt here was a far better place for me to be lost in."

"You're most welcome, Jon, as well you know." Olenna said and he nodded, then looked to her and the two others present.

"Baelon, my lady. My mother named me Baelon." he said softly.

"A worthy name for a king, Baelon." Varys said and Baelon nodded.

"Her grace and I are to be wed upon my return, ravens will be sent out to name it so once it has happened. We've agreed to all we've needed and the North accepts the need for us to be wed." he said looking to see if there were any who felt it should not be so.

"I'm most pleased to hear it, my prince, most pleased." Olenna said happily.

They spoke then on what they'd been up to in the capital, Baelon listening though only barely. When it was suggested that they feast him that night, he'd bid them not. Instead accepting the invite to a dinner with Lady Olenna, her granddaughter, and the rest of her family that was in King's Landing. Eventually, both Varys and Ellaria left him alone with Lady Olenna and he took the opportunity to thank her for her letter and the words she'd offered him.

"It meant much to me, Lady Olenna, and I never thought you to be insincere, I wish you to know that." he said to a relieved look.

"I worried that you may have thought I played a game, Baelon. That I…"

"I did not, my lady, and I meant what I said. The words you shared with me meant a lot, truly."

"Well if you'll excuse me then, your grace, I've much to do. Some of us can't simply climb upon a dragon and fly off to wherever they wish in order to get lost." Olenna said and Baelon found himself laughing truly when she winked at him as she rose to her feet.

It was somewhat similar at the dinner they shared that night. Olenna, her goodson Paxter and granddaughter Desmera, and while it was awkward at first, the truth of who he was not universally known and causing some confusion as to how he was being feted, soon it was anything but. Desmera while not yet at her grandmother's level, was clearly someone she took much pride in and Paxter spoke of ships and sailing with great knowledge to Baelon's ear.

There had been other members of her family that he'd just missed and he found that he wished he had not. A daughter, goodson, and gooddaughter and grandsons who'd gone back to the Reach in order to see to events there. Being with her family showed a side of Olenna that he'd not truly seen up until then too. It made their talks on the family she'd lost that much more poignant and real somehow and more than once, the two of them caught each other's sympathetic looks.

He bid them goodnight, was stunned as were others by the soft kiss that Olenna placed upon his cheek, and made his way to his bed. His dreams that night were of Dany and of a life sometime in the future. Dreams of a wife and children and many dragons flying in the sky. Waking the next morning brought him to the sparring yard and more than one knight or man at arms tried their best to beat him, only one coming close and that was because of the many who'd come before him. Baelon broke his fast with Olenna and Varys, listening to them speak of all he needed or Dany needed to know and it was sometime after noon that he, Olenna, and Desmera made their way to the Dragonpit. Olenna's granddaughter wished to see a dragon up close and for Olenna, Baelon would see it so.

Little did any of them realize just how fortuitous this wish would turn out to be as no sooner had they arrived and Rhaegal landed, than the seven hells opened up and the world was illuminated in bright green fire

King's Landing 304 AC.

Olenna Tyrell.

She had failed her Queen, her King. She had failed the people of the city.

Seeing the desolation taking place underneath her and realizing the horror of what was happening at that very moment, she couldn't help but burst into tears. She had almost died, almost lost her granddaughter. Had it not been for Desmera and her desire to see the dragon then she would have, and worst of all, she should have seen this coming.

The dragon had sensed danger and had saved their lives by taking them away quickly, and she could see her guards panicking as they saw green flames erupting from the city.

"Run!" she yelled out to Left and Right. "Run as far and fast as you can! Get away from here!"

They obeyed her instantly and both men sprinted away from the Dragonpit. She waited hopefully for them to reach a safe place when the next explosion made her cry out in despair, leaving no doubt on her mind about what was happening.

Wildfire.

The city had been reduced to ashes because of something all of them knew existed under King's Landing. Something that had killed her son, grandson, and granddaughter. She knew Varys was working with the remaining alchemists from the Guild to find a way to neutralize the dangerous liquid. He had also sent word to the Citadel for them to find a way to dispose of the wildfire but hadn't yet heard a word back from the prickly Maesters.

They thought they had it covered, or at least secured enough to breathe a sigh of relief, but once again she had underestimated her enemy's cunning and her depravity.

Cersei. She was sure the bitch was behind the attack.

"We need to land, to help the people." Baelon declared and she nodded as he flew away from the disaster that was happening below them and left Desmera with her at the outskirts of the city. "Be very careful, my Ladies. I will be back soon."

"Be careful, please, Son." she pleaded, grabbing Baelon's arm with urgency. "Come back. Do not risk yourself too much. You have a bride waiting for you, remember that before diving headfirst into trouble."

"I promise." Baelon said with a reassuring smile. "Help the wounded as much as you can. I will not be long."

She finally let go of him, looking around her and seeing people in need of assistance, she didn't know what to do. Olenna wasn't equipped to care for them and the green flames burning in the distance brought back a slew of bad memories.

Thankfully, Desmera took matters into her own hands. Her granddaughter was crying too, but she managed to overcome her fear to assess the wounded's needs. Olenna quickly followed her granddaughter's example, trying not to think of the lives lost in the explosions. Nor the ones that had been lost in an explosion just like them.

And then, the Red Keep collapsed, shooting the green flames higher in the skies as it did so.

Varys, Ellaria, Paxter, all of her household… She hadn't seen Erryk and Arryk reach safe grounds. And Baelon now was putting himself in danger as well.

Never in a million years would she have thought that Cersei still had supporters willing to help her raze this city to the ground, for she was certain it was the Lion Bitch's doing and that she would not come to blow the city up by herself. She wanted to be Queen of Westeros, and if she didn't get King's Landing, nobody would.

"Father... I need to get to Father..." Desmera suddenly said, realizing that Paxter might have still been in the Red Keep.

"You heard the Prince, child. We need to help the people first. I'm sure your father got out of the Red Keep and we will see him soon." she retorted with conviction, for she too needed it to be true.

That seemed to be enough to keep Desmera in line, and they soon found themselves busy with sorting out wounded and burnt people according to the degrees of their affliction.

She was relieved to hear Rhaegal's roar before seeing him again, as the sun had been covered by the smoke surrounding the city, and even more when she saw who was with him. Erryk and Arryk climbed awkwardly from the dragon's back and she kept herself from running to them. Baelon had come back as promised and his grim face made Olenna worry more.

"Explosions are occurring still, my Lady. I tried to help those fleeing to the most secure places I could find outside the city. We need to make camps, to provide food, water, and shelter to everyone."

"All of our reserves were in the Red Keep." Olenna said despondently.

"We cannot go there for now. I do not know how long the explosions will last. we need to get to the closest keeps and ask for help." Baelon said touching her shoulder softly.

"We cannot send ravens. The Queen needs to be informed of this."

"I can take you to Dragonstone for now. It will be more secure for both of you, and you will be able to centralize all the help and effort to help those in need. They have ravens, a Maester, and we can send people there with the ships that have not been blown up, so they would have a place to take shelter too."

"I'd rather stay, Your Grace." Desmera said, her eyes filled with tears. "My father… He was in the Red Keep…"

"Oh. I…" Baelon seemed at a loss of words, probably not wanting to upset her granddaughter much more than she already was. "I can accompany you to some of the other camps so you can look for him. Lady Olenna, I just thought of something."

"Your Grace?"

"Could you arrange for someone who can read and write to take the names of all those who are in this camp while I help Lady Desmera find her father? That way, if anyone is searching for their family they would have someone they can turn to."

"Excellent idea, Your Grace. This will be done immediately." Olenna nodded as he offered his hand to a distraught Desmera.

She watched as Baelon and her granddaughter disappeared on Rhaegal's back before focusing on her new task while praying that her nephew and goodson would be found alive. Olenna instructed Erryk to do as Prince Baelon had asked while Arryk guarded her and she was thankful to see them both alive. Though she might be rude to both of them sometimes, she had grown to care for them a lot and to think of them as family almost.

When Baelon came back with Desmera to bring them both to Dragonstone, she was informed that her granddaughter had found her father in one of the camps and Olenna was incredibly relieved to hear so.

"People from Rosby and Stokeworth are riding to the people's aid." Baelon said. "I had left your granddaughter with her father for a few moments to go to the harbor and ask the captains of the ships that were in a good state to lead the people able to walk to Dragonstone. Your goodson will have a passage in one of these ships."

"I thank you, Your Grace."

"I know this is much to ask you, Lady Olenna, but I promised these men they would get paid. I don't have much and I might have overstepped, but -"

"Say no more, Your Grace. I understand. I will bear the costs of this until the time comes for you to repay me."

"Thank you, Olenna. Truly. I know Daenerys will be thankful too for the role you're playing right now." Baelon said gratefully.

"It is my duty as Hand of the Queen, Your Grace."

He carefully installed them all on the dragon's back and flew them to Dragonstone, where people from the household waited anxiously for an explanation on what had occured. Maester Pylos said they had seen the explosion from the island and then asked how dire was the situation.

"Very dire, Maester. King's Landing is in flames and a lot of people are without shelter and food. Some of them are going to arrive soon here. We will need to see them settled before the Queen arrives." Baelon said and the Maester frowned.

"We?" Pylos said, making Olenna frown in turn. The way he said it didn't sit well with her.

"Aye. Can you give Lady Olenna an estimate of the state of the stores here? I will inform the Queen of what happened in King's Landing and send word to Ser Davos while you discuss it with her."

"I… Yes, I will… My Lady?" Pylos stammered, visibly confused.

"We also need to ask for the Lords of the Narrow Sea's help." Baelon stated, not waiting for a response from the Maester, whose look of bewilderment started to grate on her nerves.

"Say what's on your mind, Maester." she snapped.

"I do not know if we should follow Lord Snow's orders, My Lady. I mean no disrespect, but you are the Hand of the Queen, and he might be a perfectly competent commander, but someone of his station shouldn't presume to lead others in a situation such as this."

"By others, you mean you, don't you?" Olenna scoffed.

"Not only me, Lady Hand. The other Lords will not take kindly to Lord Snow abusing his position, no matter how infatuated he may be with the Queen." Pylos said snootily.

"Good thing his position is above yours, then, Maester." she said curtly, cursing herself for not thinking of this sooner.

"My Lady?"

"The man you call Jon Snow is actually Prince Baelon Targaryen, legitimate son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Princess Lyanna of Hous Stark. He is also Queen Daenerys betrothed and they are set to wed very soon."

"A… Are you sure?"

"Why would I lie to you? We were waiting for their wedding to make the announcement, but since you so gladly pointed out the problem we face regarding the Lords' possible attitude regarding His Grace, I feel this is high time to let them know about this."

"Indeed, this change things, my Lady. I will gladly comply with His Grace's request."

"Yes, do that. And fetch me some ink and some parchment so I can work on some letters to send myself." she grumbled, annoyed.

She spent the night writing, to Highgarden, to the Citadel, and all the Houses of the Crownlands, hoping that the Archmaesters would stop playing their silly games and work with them for once. Olenna thought about reaching out to the Iron Bank, but she would need to wait for Daenerys to come and assess the situation before doing so. All of her Queens assets, the spoils of war, and whatever Cersei had left behind that was of value, all of it was in the Red Keep which was probably still in flames at that moment. As Baelon pointed out earlier, they would rely on Olenna's House for the time being and she needed a calmer head than hers was now to predict what would happen next. Should Cersei strike again somewhere else, should she use more wildfire, then they were all done for.

There was also Baelon's eagerness to lead the rescue operations to think about. He was definitely born to be a leader, but as much as she loathed to admit it, the Maester had had a point in saying it would be difficult for him to be followed.

"What would you have me do, Olenna?" Baelon said to her the next morning when she broached the subject with him, visibly annoyed. "You would have me sit here and do nothing while people need me? We need all the help we can get before Dany comes, and she won't be here sooner than a day or so."

"Of course not, Your Grace." she replied as he sighed with frustration, and while his declaration of the Queen arriving that soon left her perplexed, she tried to hide it the best she could. "I understand the need to act, yet we need to protect the Queen's authority as well. You cannot undermine her by ordering people around before being married to her."

"Again, what would you have me do?" Baelon asked frustratedly.

"Let me travel with you to Driftmark. Let me act on behalf of the Queen and request the Lord Paramount's help. Lord Velaryon will gladly offer his help and issue an order to the other Lords to follow your lead -"

"Then let us go, now." Baelon said and she shook her head.

"Have you eaten since the dinner we shared? Have you broken your fast?"

"I am not hungry."

"You need to eat, though." she retorted, smiling fondly as she looked at his affronted face. "You will not help much if you are not fed enough and collapse due to hunger."

"I was a man of the Night's Watch, Olenna. Being hungry is a feeling I know and…" he sighed once more. "You won't let it go, will you?"

"I am a stubborn Old Lady, and I will not risk you fainting in the air when I do not know how to ride a dragon by myself." she quipped, making him chuckle for the first time since the tragedy.

She had been right in her assumption that Aurane Velaryon would not see Baelon's intervention with a favorable eye. Even after seeing the man ride a dragon and hearing that he was to marry his queen, the new Lord Paramount of the Crownland openly ignored Baelon. The former Bastard of Driftmark discussed every point about the plan the Prince had devised with her and only her. Baelon, though frustrated, had the good grace to let the Lord play his game, though she was certain that Aurane would later get a beating in the sparring yard for the way he would have treated the Future King. Most of all for the misplaced quip he had said earlier.

"Had I known that Queen Daenerys was into bastards, I would have suggested a union with me."

"Only it wasn't a bastard she was seeking, but a man able to be her equal." Olenna retorted, offended on behalf of the man she considered a true friend. "Riding a dragon is not a simple feat, my Lord."

"Indeed, my Lady Hand. I wonder how he managed to do so…"

"What's important today is to care for the people of King's Landing." Olenna said, not wanting to say too much. She was not Varys and didn't have his talent for swiftly evading subjects they did not wish to talk about, and she sent a prayer that the Master of Whisper was safe, hoping that the reason he hadn't found a way to contact them was due to the chaos around the city and not a dire fate falling upon him.

King's Landing, 304 AC.

(During what would soon be known as the Mad Queen's Fury)

Baelon Targaryen.

The sound of the explosions rang out and off in the distance he could see waves of fire flash in the sky. Beneath them, the ground shook and he heard Rhaegal call out to him in his mind, the Green Dragon demanding that he come with him and come with him now. Beside him, Olenna and Desmera looked as fearful as he'd seen anyone look since Hardhome. Neither of them knew what to do and their guards' attempts to get them to move weren't finding any success.

"My lady, my lady." he said moving to Olenna who looked at him and seemed lost "We must get you and your granddaughter to safety, my lady, we must move now."

"Where, your grace, where is safe?" Olenna asked and though he had no answer, he heard Rhaegal again and soon found one.

"With me, Olenna, both of you need to come with me." he said and saw her nod eagerly.

He barely heard her tell her guards to find somewhere safe, the two giants moving the other men and nodding at him as he helped firstly Desmera and then Olenna to climb onto Rhaegal's back. Was he more experienced and less worried that if he tried he'd falter, then he'd have taken more than just the two ladies. But he couldn't risk them all falling here today and while he'd sworn no knight vows, it was his job to protect those who could not protect themselves, was it not?

"Sōvegon Rhaīgal, sōvegon eglie se adere." (Fly Rhaegal, fly high and fast).

His dragon needed no further command and in the blink of an eye, they were in the sky. Desmera held tightly onto his back while Olenna sat in front of him and felt so very small in his arms. While both women kept their eyes tightly shut, his own were wide open and through them and then through Rhaegal's he looked at the carnage they left behind. How many explosions there had been he knew not, but King's Landing was covered in flames and it seemed they were not done yet.

He bid Rhaegal fly past the city and to what the dragon himself felt was safe ground, Baelon looking as far around them as he could to ensure they were alone, before allowing Rhaegal to land. After helping Olenna and Desmera from the dragon's back, he readied to mount up once more. The two women looked at him worriedly and only one of them was truly able to speak. Be it her shock, her concerns, or something else, Olenna named him a son and bid him be safe and then he and Rhaegal left them behind and flew back to the city.

They landed near the gates and he had Rhaegal roar out loudly. The Green Dragon did what his own words would not have been able to alone and brought a sense of somewhat calm over the panicking people. With Longclaw in hand, he pointed to gates and bid them leave more orderly. Then speaking to Gold Cloaks, guards, men who seemed less panicked than others, he bid them see to their evacuation.

To each of the seven gates he went, repeating the same message and then to the city itself and the green fire, he and Rhaegal flew. Some areas were completely gone and he pitied the poor souls that had been caught up in the destruction and prayed that their ends were quick and sudden. In others he found panic and despair and did his best to bring some order and calm, failing as much as he succeed much to his dismay. He and Rhaegal cleared obstacles so that people could move to what they and he hoped was safer ground. They flew to the docks and bid the ships to move from them and to take as many aboard as they could when they did so.

Far sooner than he'd have hoped for, it became clear that there was little more use he could offer those inside the city and so with a heavy heart, it was to those outside that he bid Rhaegal take him to. As he was flying back, he saw Olenna's two giant guards, and both men seemed to have resigned themselves to their fate. Around them, the flames burned high and moved ever closer and so he bid Rhaegal do whatever he could. There was no place for them to land, no true way for Erryk and Arryk to get to them, or so he thought. Baelon then almost let out a cheer when his clever dragon proved him wrong and lifted them to safety in his talons.

They landed where the fires burned not and he bid both men join him on Rhaegal's back, smiling when they asked about their ladies' safety first and foremost. Rhaegal took them to Olenna and Desmera and the relief she showed upon seeing them and him was palpable. The words she shared with him and he with her, bringing neither much comfort and so he was glad when Desmera sought some of her own and relieved when the gods granted it to her. It was much later that night when he, Desmera, Olenna and Erryk, and Arryk headed for Dragonstone and he hoped he was making the right and only choice he could.

The next few days.

There had been few sights that had made him feel as lost as the one he now looked upon. Few times when he truly questioned the gods and their plans for men, such as he did now. Hardhome and now this being the only two times when he'd seen people who for all intents and purposes were broken and it cut him right to the bone. That these people were actually the lucky ones, only made that even more tragic.

He'd taken Olenna and Desmera along with Erryk and Arryk to Dragonstone and had then found the next day or so to be the most frustrating in his life. Listening to people who rather than seeking to help, were instead intent on running him down because they thought him what most had all his life, had been frustrating and pathetic all at the same time. There had been moments when he'd wished to unsheathe Longclaw or bring Rhaegal to bear on them for their stupidity and others that he'd wanted to use his sword on himself for his own.

They had meant to send ravens out proclaiming his truth. It had been something he'd planned to do after he'd revealed himself to the Lords of the North, West, Riverlands, Reach, and Dorne. Yet events had caught up with him and too many people had needed that truth explored in person and so he'd not seen it done. Others too had found themselves busy with what, were anyone to have asked him before now, were more important things. So it had been Jon Snow that had flown South when Baelon Targaryen was who this current crisis truly needed. Had it not been for Lady Olenna's words and her seeing that the ravens were sent, then still he'd have faced more arguments about himself than about what was needed to be done. Not that he hadn't then faced those arguments too.

Their need for everything was almost overwhelming and while most of the Houses and their Lords may have been brought around for the need to help, they still hadn't been brought around to give up as much as was needed. 'Winter was coming after all' he thought with a grimace. Words he'd spent his whole life hearing and which now almost mocked him. As he moved around the camps, he tried not to think on the Maester of Dragonstone, on Aurane Velaryon, and on some of the nearest lords who'd taken up precious and much needed time arguing over who he was, and so instead he tried to think how best to help those he looked to now.

"Let me carry that." he said to a woman who was struggling with a large jug of water.

"I can bear it, your grace." the woman said seeming embarrassed that he'd offered her his aid.

"Let me bear the weight of it, I beg of you." he said and she relented.

She led him to a small open tent and inside he saw a young family. There were two girls and a boy and all had burns of some degree. Thankfully they were minor, though painful still. After he laid the jug of water down, he reached into his pack and felt around for the last of the salves he had with him. They would do little to heal the hurt, but they'd stop them from getting any worse and may offer some comfort. Moving to the first of the girls, he shuddered when she moved from him and so he then began to speak softly.

"This will help little one, trust me." he said and she looked at him with hope in her eyes as he placed the salve on her arms "You're a brave little girl, what's your name?"

"Mara." the girl said.

"Does that feel better Mara?" he asked as he looked at her and saw her nod her head, Baelon then looked to her sister and brother.

"She's Sara and he's Parla." Mara said naming her sister and brother and it was her words that allowed him to treat their wounds.

"I'm Baelon." he said and Sara looked at him and giggled.

"That's a silly name." the younger girl said as her mother looked on aghast, Baelon's laugh a far truer one than he feared he'd find this day.

"Aye, it is." he said to another giggle from the girl whose brother and sister joined in now.

He stayed for a few moments, spoke of the dragon and of the queen being on her way. Taking some food from his pack, the lunch that Olenna had insisted he bring with him, he handed it to the children's mother.

"I cannot, your grace." the woman said shaking her head.

"For the little ones." he said and eventually she relented and nodded to him.

"What's to become of us, your grace, me and the little ones what life is there for us now?" she asked worriedly.

"Her grace, I, Lady Olenna, and all those nearest to us will do all we can to see that you have food and shelter. Whatever it takes to see you and your family well, you have my oath that we won't rest until it's done." he said and as he moved to leave the tent, he felt the small arms of Sara as she wrapped them around his leg, his fingers mussing her hair before he walked and moved to help whoever else he could.

By the time he and Rhaegal got back to Dragonstone, his spirit was almost broken. He'd said words that he'd meant with all his heart and yet he feared that those words would make a liar out of him regardless. Baelon had seen children who'd have to go through life wearing scars that would make them outcasts. If they were lucky enough to survive the next few moons that was. There had been mothers who had wept at the thoughts they'd nothing to fill those children's bellies with. Those who hailed from Flea Bottom may have had little, but they had something, and now it was all gone and nothing he could say or do would bring it back.

When he eventually caught up with Cersei Lannister and Euron Greyjoy, he'd see them suffer a thousandfold. He'd show them the cruelty that their actions demanded. For now, he needed to let his anger and hatred fuel him and do whatever he could for those who were suffering before he had a need to head back North. Baelon lamenting that despite the need for him to be here, the greater need was still somewhere else and he feared he didn't have the strength in him to do both. So when he heard the sound of Rhaegal's trill, when he turned to see the two dragons in the sky, it was a boon to his spirit that was much needed.

"Dany." he said softly.

Winterfell. Dragonstone, The Crownlands 304 AC.

Dany.

She'd just taken off the dress and handed it back to Missandei when she heard the commotion outside her door. Looking to Sansa, she bid her future goodsister see what it was while she moved to dress back into her clothing. It took her little time to do so, so keen was she to find out what was going on and for a moment she found herself hoping that Baelon had come back. Only to then dismiss the thought as it was far too soon for his return.

Instead, she was to find that it was King Rickon and the look of worry on the young boy's face made her heart almost stop. Pushing past Missandei and Sansa, she moved to the King of the North and almost grabbed him in her concern, only for his words to alleviate some of her fears.

"Jon is well, your Grace." Rickon said yet the worried look on his face didn't change.

"What's wrong? Is it Bran, has he done something else."

"No, it's…Something has happened in King's Landing, your grace, a raven is on its way, but…but.."

"But what?" she asked agitatedly.

"Jon says you need to go to him, that he needs your aid and needs it at once. He awaits you on Dragonstone, your grace."

Her mind was soon back in the same turmoil it had been in just moments before. Baelon calling for her aid was just as concerning as were he himself in some danger and the vagueness of it worried her greatly. As she tried to think why he may have called, she didn't hear Sansa and Missandei ask King Rickon how he'd received the message. Was it not for the need to have her things prepared for the flight she was now set to take, then she'd not have heard the answer either.

"What do you mean you spoke through Ghost?" Sansa asked incredulously.

"Jon and I spoke through, Ghost, as we did when he was at the Wall with the Golden Dragon." Rickon said and while Sansa and Missandei both looked at the young boy as if he had lost his mind, Dany very much did not.

"Baelon told me the same when we had dealt with Viserion's pain. This was like that?" she asked as Sansa and Missandei took in her words.

"Not the same, no, your grace. This time the connection was more true, mayhap since we'd done so afore."

"It matters not, I must go and go now. I know or care not what tale you need to tell the Lords and Ladies. But I must go to Baelon." she said and with that, the room began to clear and Missandei readied all she'd need for the flight.

She did her best to reassure her closest friend and Ser Jorah and Grey Worm that all was well. Argued with them all when they tried to insist she took one of them with her and only relented when Missandei begged her to. After speaking to reassure the Starks that she'd make sure that Baelon was safe and well, she asked Lady Melisandrei, Jaime Lannister, Ned Dayne, and others to continue with the preparations they were doing and said she'd return as quickly as she could. Then she and Jorah climbed onto Drogon's back and less than a moment later, Winterfell was just a speck in the distance behind them.

Despite her fears, she landed when darkness fell and bid Drogon eat and rest. Her son did so reluctantly and only left to hunt once he knew that Viserion was staying by her side. While she barely ate the food that Jorah prepared, she did welcome seeing Viserion eat what Drogon brought back to him, and rather than the fire, it was by the dragons that she slept that night. Dany thanked the gods that the dreams that filled her head were of the most pleasant kind and of a wedding night that she longed to come.

"We won't rest today, Ser Jorah, won't stop, so if there is anything you need to attend to?"

"I am good, Khalessi."

"Then we fly." she said determinedly.

She'd woken early, broken her fast early, and now wished to be on Dragonstone before the night fell. Beneath her, Drogon felt her eagerness and her son responded in kind. The flight taking far less time than she feared and seeing the island come into view, seeing Rhaegal on the cliffs and looking unworried, was only trumped by seeing Baelon standing there and looking unharmed. Yet still, when they landed and she climbed down off Drogon's back, she almost raced to Baelon and her eyes took him in completely as she sought any sign of injury. Relieved to find there were none, she then worried why he'd sought her aid even more.

"Baelon, you are well?" she asked, just to make sure.

"Oh Dany, gods, Dany, I…"

"Baelon?" she asked as she felt him hold her tightly.

"I need you, Dany, I can't….I can't do this alone." he said, sounding almost broken.

It took the walk to the keep to find out what had made him that way and despite wishing to fly straight to King's Landing, she knew that she'd be of better use here. Baelon needed her and so she'd be by his side and on the morrow, together they'd offer whatever aid they could. They were met by Olenna and a younger woman when they reached the keep, Dany barely paying attention to the one and little to the other.

"We'll talk on the morrow, Lady Olenna." she said and was glad the lady left it at that.

She led Baelon to her rooms, called for refreshments, and then was stunned when they arrived and Baelon refused to touch any of them. His hunger was clear to her and yet he'd not eat and it took her some time to find out the reason for that.

"They have so little, Dany, the children especially. How am I supposed to…" Baelon said looking at the full plate and she moved to him, knowing words would have little effect and instead she let her arms, her kisses, the feel of her offer her love the comfort he so needed.

They fell asleep on her bed, Baelon fully dressed while she was very much not. It was a fitful sleep for both of them, Baelon's sighs and little shudders forcing her to wake and speak softly to him more than once. She let him sleep on the next morning while she made her way to speak to Olenna and found her with the same young woman once more. This time finding out just who that woman was and just hearing the name stirred up feelings she'd thought she was over. Was it not for what Olenna said and the shock of hearing those words be properly explained, something that Baelon had not been able to do, then Desmera Redwyne may have taken up all her thoughts and attention.

"It's truly that bad?" she asked after Olenna had spoken.

"Unfortunately, your grace. We have no idea of the full extent of the losses but they are in the thousands, tens of thousands at the least."

"By the gods, Who? How? Why?"

"There is only one woman who'd seek to do such a thing, one woman who's mad enough to do such a thing. Cersei Lannister is a jealous and cruel woman who'd not give up something she believed was hers and who has used Wildfire before." Olenna said and as Dany moved to offer the woman her hand, she saw there as no need for it as Desmera did so before her.

They were interrupted by Baelon and she was happy to see he looked much better. The kiss he placed on her lips was one she much appreciated. As she listened to him speak of his frustrations with the lords nearest the now devastated city, Olenna added little bits that showed things in that regard had been somewhat resolved. When Olenna brought up the wealth she'd lost, Dany surprised her with her nonchalance.

"I did not bring all my wealth with me and not even all to King's Landing, Lady Olenna. There is some in the vault here too, Less than half of what I brought but enough to be of use. More is in Meereen as well should it be needed." she said and then she stopped for a moment, letting the thought fully develop. "We need to send word to Daario Naharis, it's not just wealth we need but food, supplies is it not?" she asked excitedly, not seeing the frown on Baelon's face.

"Aye, it is."

"The Bay of Dragons has much it can offer us, much we may need." she said happily.

After writing out the letter that she'd send to Daario and speaking to Olenna about the coin she'd already provided and asking her to keep a note of it so she could be reimbursed later. She and Baelon along with Ser Jorah made their way to the cliffs and to the dragons.

"Be prepared, Dany, for it's a heart-wrenching sight." Baelon said and she moved to him and offered him her hand once more.

"Together, we'll help them Baelon." she said and he nodded, smiling at her for the first time since he'd first seen her return.

A week later.

Gods help her she'd tried. She'd done all she could to put the woman from her mind and found that not even all she needed to concentrate on was enough to do so. Each time she saw her, every time she caught Baelon looking in her direction, Bran's words would come back to haunt her. So much so that Dany even began to picture the children they'd have together and consider the politics of what such a match would mean to the realm. At one point, during one of her darkest moments, she found herself almost wishing for her death in the war that was to come, just so she'd not be a barrier or obstacle to Baelon's future.

It made her feel terrible about herself. To be thinking of such things when there were far more important things to consider. They had far too few supplies, far too little to offer, and not even demanding that keeps and villages give up more than half their winter supplies was enough to stop the suffering that was soon to come. Ships had been sent to Essos, orders for food and coin put aside to see it bought and yet it would not be enough and not be in time. More people were going to die and there was nothing that she, Baelon, or anyone could do to stop it.

Turning her mind from Desmera and Baelon for a moment, she thought back to what Baelon had said to the people at the large meeting they'd held. The words he'd spoken had been heard by one and all and though it had taken much out of him to speak them, her pride in him that he did so was absolute. He'd shown his need for her when she'd arrived and he'd told her that were she not by his side then he'd not have found the strength to do what he must and yet she'd not believed him for once. For he was far stronger than he gave himself credit for and if she was his strength, then he was very much hers too.

"I'll not stand here and lie to you. Nor sway you with pretty words and speak untruths so you'll cheer my name. I'll not hold it against any who curse me or speak ill of me for what I must tell you all, for it's a harsh truth that I must share with you." Baelon said as they stood on some raised boxes so that as many of those around them could see and hear as was possible.

"Speak your truths, your grace." a woman called out, one that Baelon had spent more time with than any as he tried to help her and her children.

"While help is on the way, it'll take time to get here. For as much as we stretch out the rations, it'll not be enough." Baelon said and Dany was surprised there were no angered shouts. "I come from the North as some of you may know. It's a harsh place and there we know the truth of Winter far better than most. We've suffered through it at its worst, been forced to make the toughest choices, not for ourselves but for those younger than we. For our children and our children's children and though it pains me to say it, that's now a choice that each and every one of you above the age of forty namedays must soon make."

She looked around and the confused looks and noticed one or two of them seemed to have some inkling of what Baelon was about to say and then she, they and those nearest to the raised boxes, heard the choked words and how much they pained him to speak them.

"In the North, there is a tradition. When winter comes the oldest among us leave those younger and stronger than they and set off on a hunt. It's a hunt they know they'll not return from and one that in truth serves but one purpose. To remove a hungry mouth from the table so that those who remain can better share the little they have. We're not yet at that time, but I fear it's coming close." Baelon said to loud shouts.

"You would wish me to send my father away?"

"To deny my mother the comfort of my table?"

"Are you a monster?"

"Do you have a heart in that chest of yours?"

It was Drogon and not Rhaegal who roared out, her son doing as she bid while her other one mayhap did as Baelon asked of him.

"You think this pains me not?" Baelon asked as he wiped his eyes "You believe I don't think this damns my soul? I know of what I ask, believe me, and was this a thing I could face with my dragon or my sword. Was this a battle I could win by sheer will alone or one that I could snatch victory from even at the cost of mine own life, then I would do so gladly. I cannot make it so, no matter how much I will it. If the supplies do not arrive within the moon, then this is what must happen. I bid you look to the children, look to their suffering and ask yourself if there was not anything you'd do to see it was not so."

He'd shown a strength that day that she knew she needed to match and so she made her way to speak to him and tried not to let her emotions get the best of her when she saw him, Olenna, and Desmera speak and laugh together. It had been rare that she'd seen him laugh these past few days and he deserved it more than any. Smiling at Davos and Lady Marya, Dany's presence was soon noticed and Baelon moved from Desmera's side to take his place at her own. She felt the kiss on her cheek and he led her to her seat where they spent the next few hours going over all they'd put in place.

If the gods were good then Baelon's words would never come to pass. Yet both of them had seen in their lives that the gods were anything but good. They'd sent word to the Red Temples, knowing that their priests and priestess would relish the chance to offer aid and gain new followers. She'd flown to the Citadel and demanded their aid and together they'd mourned the losses of men and women they knew. Varys and Ellaria were both unaccounted for and had not been found among the many injured who were recovering and they were not the only losses they'd suffered.

When they were finished speaking, she bid Baelon join her on the cliffs and told Jorah that she wished to do this alone. The two of them walked in silence and Dany did her best to come up with the words that she truly didn't wish to speak but knew that she must. She was glad of the momentary respite that being with the dragons brought to her and after bidding them fly, she readied to tell Baelon what she'd decided.

"The wedding, Baelon, it cannot go ahead."

"Dany?"

"You…Desmera and.."

"Dany?" he asked moving to her and whether it was how he did so, the feel of him or something else, she found herself shaking her head and speaking words that she'd not thought she would.

"No, I'll not give you up, not even to her, I'll not, I'll not."

"Dany? what's going on?"

She looked at him through tear-filled eyes and smiled as he wiped them. His own expression was one of confusion and worry and she did her best to clear up one and remove the other. Her own worries soon became clearer and clearer as she told him of what Bran had truly said and who he'd said it about. Dany let the words almost flow from her and all her doubts, fears, and concerns were quickly exposed.

"That's why you've been so short with her." Baelon asked when she was finished.

"I've not been…." she began only for his finger to touch her lip and stop her from speaking.

"What have I told you about Bran, Dany?" he asked and she looked to see there was some mirth in his eyes, something which was slightly infectious.

"That he's a cunt."

"Aye." Baelon said with a chuckle "Remember what I asked you after he spoke to you? What I said that night?" he asked and she nodded "You're the only woman in my heart, Dany. The only woman I wish for or will ever take for mine own. So reject me if you wish, but do so knowing that I'll spend my days alone, but for a dragon and a wolf." Baelon said making her giggle.

"So you and Desmera?"

"Are friends because of her grandmother and the lady is soon to be wed to another, so you've naught to be jealous for."

"I'm not jealous." she said trying to sound affronted.

"And neither am I about Daario Naharis." he said raising his eyebrow and she felt something she'd not with him up to then, a different sort of kinship as she realized that just like her, he too truly felt as she did.

"You've naught t be jealous for." she said repeating his words.

"Good. Now since neither of us has a need to be jealous, I think it's time for us to return to the North, don't you feel it to be so?"

"Is all settled here?" she asked and he shook his head "But it will be and is in capable hands." she added and he leaned forward and kissed her.

"Aye, my love it will. Now we have a war to win and wedding to attend unless you've got some silly idea about running from me and forcing me to chase you down?" he asked challengingly.

His challenge was one that she accepted eagerly and her laughter soon rang around the cliffs as she ran as fast as she could and Baelon chased her as he had said he would. How he took her to the ground so softly, she knew not, but as he lay on top of her and she looked up at him, the look in his eyes was one that cleared up any doubt she had about their future.

"Caught you little dragon." Baelon said as he kissed her nose and then her cheek before moving to her lips.

"Aye, you did." she said, her words swallowed by his mouth as it closed on her own.

Crownlands, Riverlands, and the North 304 AC.

(Before, during and after the explosions)

Tyrion.

A dragon, he had a fucking dragon. How was it possible? True he'd seen Rhaegal's interest in him and it had been the Green Dragon who'd saved Jon Snow from the Mountain, but never had he believed that he'd actually mount said dragon. Yet he'd seen it with his own eyes, looked to the sky, and saw Rhaegal and Jon Snow as they flew over King's Landing, and the hatred he'd had for the bastard wolf, had only grown stronger because of it.

It had made him hurry back to the tavern he was staying in and he knew the sight of his stunted legs as they tried to move quickly had amused the wretches of the city. Though given what he'd planned to do, it would be Tyrion Lannister, The Imp, The Demon Monkey who'd have the last laugh and his one would be as loud as can be. Hurrying up the stairs once he'd arrived, he made his way to his room and moved to the loose floorboard where he'd hidden his plans. He'd taken no chances with the Spider around and he knew that each time he'd left his room, Varys or his little birds had no doubt searched it.

Taken out the large sheets of parchment, he looked them over and made sure that they were as he believed them to be. Each small element needed to be perfect for it to work and he'd take no chances that he'd fail, even more so now that the bastard was here. He'd not dared to dream he'd be so lucky. Instead, he had expected that Jon Snow would fall to Bronn and not him, and while he was annoyed that he'd not, it did save him a keep that he had no true way of gifting the man, something that brought a chuckle from him as he studied the plans.

"Call one of the servants, I think I'd like my luncheon now." he said to an odd look from his guard, though the man did as he had bid him.

It was still early and he'd not long finished breaking his fast, but there was much to do before he departed this city and he'd need a full stomach to see it done. Sure now of his plans, he rolled up the parchment and put it inside his shirt before taking his seat. The meal arrived a little while later and for the first time, he ate it without wine to wash it down. What he needed to do required him to be sober and steady and he could drink many drinks in celebration once it was done.

The next morning.

His head hurt, the light from the window forced his eyes closed and the warm body that lay beside him was one that he had no recollection of inviting into his bed. Rising to his feet, he broke wind nosily and chuckled as he made his way to the privy. It had been that rather than his departure from the bed that had woken the whore up and for some reason that amused him greatly. Once he was finished emptying his bladder, he made his way back to the room and paid the girl for her services.

Were he another man then he may have pondered on her fate. Tyrion though found he cared not, life, death, whatever it was that was to visit her that day was for the gods to worry about, not he. He ordered his meal to break his fast and ate as heartily as he had in moons. The blacked bacon was even crispier and the ale he used to wash it down, felt welcome on his palate. Once he was done, he moved to the floorboard and took out the parchment once more. With it in hand, he walked over to the fire and threw it into it, watching it almost gleefully as it burned and smiling at the thoughts of all that would burn this day.

"Have Artos found and brought to me." he said to his guard when he was sure the parchment was no more.

"At once, my lord."

It took longer than he wished for Artos to come to him, the guard looking as if he'd only just awakened and Tyrion for once not being bothered by the tardiness.

"Take this to Willem, make sure you pay him in full, Artos, for the task I've set him is an important one." he said handing Artos the small piece of parchment and the coin purse "And have Maroq see to the horses, I mean to depart before noon."

"To the West, my lord?" Artos asked and Tyrion shook his head.

"Not yet, Not yet."

Less than an hour later, he and his guards were riding out of King's Landing and he smirked at the little birds that took note of his departure. They and their master were in for a big surprise very soon and he found himself almost giddy at the prospect of who would perish in the flames. Varys, Ellaria Sand, Olenna Tyrell, the withered old cunt that she was, and Jon Snow, the bastard who'd cost him all that he'd deserved.

He wondered if a dragon could survive the flames that headed its way. Found himself contemplating it as they rode the Kingsroad and it was a thought that didn't leave his head until they stopped to water the horses. His mind tried its best to remember if the flames of dragons hurt the dragons themselves or if they were immune from them and from other fires. Much to his dismay, he found that he couldn't for the life of him remember what it had been that he'd read about them all those years earlier.

This and all other thoughts were gone a moment later. The sound was like nothing he'd ever heard before and he felt the ground shake beneath him. Artos and his guards moved to steady the horses, their own worries and fears put aside for now. Tyrion though found himself almost racing to find higher ground. His eyes looked to the road behind him and even this far from King's Landing, he found it to be a glorious sight as the world was lit up in a bright green flame and over and over. More so when those flames were joined by more.

"What the fuck?"

"Was that King's Landing?"

"What the fuck happened?"

"My Lord, My Lord we needs must get you to safety."

The voices washed over him as he stared at the green flames in the distance, images of faces being enveloped in their fiery embrace filling his head and warming his heart. Though he couldn't be certain just who the flames had taken, his mind brought those images to life and he reveled in the horror and pain on the faces he saw. Each of them had fallen, each of them had been burned away to naught and so Tyrion began to laugh and laugh loudly.

Over the next few days, there was rarely a time when a smile didn't come to his face. He listened as his men made their worries clear and he cared not. When he told them that it was even more imperative they headed North, the arguments had been few and far between and he'd much enjoyed his time in the various brothels and taverns they'd stopped off in. For the first time since before the War of the Five Kings had begun, he felt as he used to feel. The journey North felt like a jaunt, a pleasure ride, and it brought back memories of those he'd used to go on all those years earlier.

There was not a thing that he would deny himself when he'd traveled as the son of Tywin Lannister. His name, his father's gold, all of it combined to make him a most welcome guest wherever he decided to lay his head. While it was somewhat different now, he still had a large amount of coin and the realm had suffered much during the wars that ravaged it. Whores were most happy with his business and his men enjoyed themselves in this regard as much as he. As he was doing now with the girl who wore the silver-haired wig and who was at present doing her best to make his member rise once more.

"My sweet little dragon, a man needs rest." he said as he reached over to grab the wine jug.

"My lion won't rise for me?" the girl pouted.

"In time, my dragon, in time."

His words were eventually proved true and the girl more than earned her coin. They had left the Crownlands and were somewhere in the Riverlands. Word of the destruction of King's Landing had not yet made it here and he enjoyed the looks on people's faces when his guards told the tales. He'd learned much of the state of the Riverlands and had been surprised that Edmure Tully was so well thought of by those he spoke to. The Lord of Riverrun had proved himself no military man and yet the Smallfolk spoke more fondly of him than they ever did his father, or so Tyrion would wager.

The actions he'd taken during the War of the Five Kings may have cost him his house and his uncle, but it had earned him favor with those he ruled over. As had his actions since then. Tyrion finding out that he'd had seen that their bellies were as full as he could make them, just as he had tried to do during the war as one innkeeper had told him fondly. Now the Lord was off in the North and they worried for his return. Though Tyrion's own worries about Edmure Tully were much more in regards to himself.

It had been Jaime who'd held him hostage and forced him to yield Riverrun and his father who had seen the Riverlands put to sword and flame. So he'd not be best pleased to see him when he arrived in the North and in that he'd not be alone. Dorne, the West, the Reach, and the Northmen themselves would be no friends of his, and yet it changed naught. His path was set, the road he had to travel, one he had no choice but continue upon. What he wished for and what he desired the most demanded it of him and as he left yet another tavern behind, he felt closer than ever to get what he deserved.

A few weeks later.

Seeing the Twins bereft of male Freys had been a shock to his system. As had the welcome he'd been given there, as more than one of them had tried to tempt him to their bed before he'd left and his guards had been far more willing than he. Not even the fact that Roslin was now Lady of Riverrun had seen the Freys recover their position. They had coin, armed men to guard them, but no fathers, brothers, nephews, or cousins to chart their future and for now at least, it seemed as if the Twins was like a rudderless ship, adrift and with land far from sight.

Traveling through the Riverlands had proved far more taxing than it had at first seemed. Their welcomes grew less friendly the deeper into those lands they journeyed. His men had covered their armor and tried not to be seen as Lannister men, but because of him that was easier said than done. The Imp of Casterly Rock was too well known and unlike any other dwarf, his very baring marked him out as who he truly was. It had led to far too many scuffles and at least one death and so upon reaching one of the larger villages, he'd sent Artos to gather as many supplies as could be bought and his nights in taverns and brothels were no more.

Rather than a warm mouth or even warmer cunt to spend in, it had been his hand that he'd sought his pleasure from. His nights filled with thoughts of what he'd do to Daenerys Targaryen when he finally showed her his true face and proved to be just as pleasurable as those he'd spent with someone sharing his bed. Not even the cold as they drew closer to the North itself was enough to stop the fire that burned deep in his heart. Vengeance, Justice, Retribution, and Desire were his companions as they followed the Kingsroad and rode into the Neck.

"Moat Cailin, my lord." Artos called out taking him from his daydream of silver hair, violet eyes, and the tears that fell from them.

"We'll shelter there for the night and rest the horses." he said to a relived nod from the weary guard and he hoped they'd be made somewhat welcome by whoever garrisoned the keep.

They were and they were not at the same time. The Northmen were displeased by his presence and only that he named himself as something he was not or they'd have sent them on their way. Tyrion told them that he represented the Queen and had news of great import to share with her and the stubborn ugly Northman finally agreed they could stay the night and no more. The food they were given was pitiful, though the stew was at least warm if not full of much goodness. Their rooms were a little better, though at least they had left them a warm fire burning which meant they'd not die of cold in their sleep.

His dreams were once again his respite. Pain suffering and sorrow were what they were full of as he spoke of Jon Snow's death to Daenerys and named his sister and Euron Greyjoy as the architects of that death. He almost cried out in joy as she crumbled before him and believed that he may have very well done so when she begged him for his help. Help that he'd give her until the timing was right to see her own fall come to pass. At what point his hand found his hard cock, he knew not, but when he woke the next morning it was to find his seed had spilled over his hand during the night. The feel of it was not something he welcomed, nor was the coldness of the water he was forced to wash it in.

They were offered an even more pitiful meal to break their fast and so after leaving the Moat behind them and entering into the North proper, Tyrion bid his men stop and they delved into their own supplies. This meal was more to his liking and filing his and his men's bellies enough to drive them forward. How long it would take him to reach Winterfell he wasn't sure. The last time he'd made such a journey it had taken weeks, but there was no wheelhouse to slow him down this time. Though that meant no King and so no overabundance of wine and good food either. Still one did what one must when in search of what one wished for.

"Caw, Caw." the raven called out and Tyrion smiled at it as he rode past the tree. For ravens were the harbingers of bad tidings and upon their dark wings they oft brought dark words, soon enough Tyrion would act a raven of sorts and his words would be dark ones indeed.

Winterfell, 304 AC.

Rickon Stark.

He had felt the weight of his crown a lot in the last few moons, his latest decisions regarding the North, justice, and family had made him wary of the responsibilities. Yet as he was about to knock on the Queen's door, he thought that he would not have it another way.

Had he shirked his responsibilities when he'd felt his family tearing itself apart like some would have wished him to do, then he wouldn't have been able to protect them from all the things that were happening.

What Jon had told him before, about them having enemies and how important it was for them to be a real pack, to support and trust each other, Rickon had felt the truth of it when Daenerys and her army had come to Winterfell. There were too many people who he didn't trust, starting with the one who had almost killed him and Bran all those years earlier.

Theon had tried to make amends to him and was it not for Sansa and Daenerys, then he would have sent Arya to kill him without any remorse. He didn't care that his father's former ward was a broken man. Nor that he'd been tortured by Ramsay Bolton and that he'd helped Sansa flee to the Wall and so he had made it clear that he would not forgive the man for what he'd done to his household and what he'd inflicted upon the miller's sons. The only thing he could do to vent out his frustrations was to beat him every day during spars, which he did most eagerly.

He didn't trust Jaime Lannister either. He knew that the man was partly responsible for the death of his father, and this time it had been Ghost and Melisandre who had stayed his hand. The Kingslayer was apparently loyal to Jon, Rickon had felt it when sharing the Direwolf's body, so he let him be for the moment. Knowing full well that Arya was watching him closely too.

His uncle Edmure was another one he had trouble with. Not only because of the way he was constantly seeking to bond with him, which seemed terribly forced, especially considering the man hadn't cared a bit for him when he was in the South, but also his attitude whenever Jon was mentioned. He clearly hated him and any enemy of Rickon's brother was his enemy too.

The most unnerving was of course his own brother. Why Bran had felt a duty to try breaking the pack, he didn't know, but Rickon was sure he wasn't saying the truth when he said it was to strengthen their bonds. They could have forgone all the drama surrounding Littlefinger's presence and done without the trauma surrounding Jon's parentage. They could have used another way to bring Sansa to the fold other than having her abducted and almost raped, contrary to Bran's words on the matter.

"You had to feel the fear of losing her, Arya and Jon too, so you could all realize how much you cared for her."

He didn't buy it, nor did he the nonsense Bran had said about Jon and Dany. Through Ghost, he could feel the real attachment the woman had for his brother, and her longing for him as he'd left with Davos was almost as strong as his. While they didn't spend a lot of time together, he could see all Jon had said about her caring for her people and wanting a true place in their family was true. That she had believed him fully and hadn't hesitated to fly to Jon even when the sun had set was another testament to her feelings for his brother.

They had received the raven two days after and Rickon had seen Missandei's suspicions change into deep respect. She had sought him out afterward and asked to learn more about his powers. Rickon gave her a book about the legends of the North, not wanting to speak too much about what he could or could not do since he didn't want Bran to know either.

What bothered him the most was that his dreams were back, and when he'd heard Jon's distress through Ghost, he had realized that the last one he had was about King's Landing.

A red castle was swept over by a green wave, leaving nothing in its wake but a flow of dead bodies while the dragons above it cried in despair. It was a sennight later, when Jon came back with Dany, both looking worse for wear, that he figured out that it was not a simple dream.

"We bear tragic news, my Lords, my Ladies." Jon started in the solar, where their sisters attended the meeting he had set with the representatives of the other kingdoms. "King's Landing is no more."

Shouts of shock, surprise, and distress rose in the room, none so loud as Sarella Martell's and her sister's.

"What do you mean, King's Landing is no more?" the Princess of Dorne said shakily. "What happened."

"A series of explosions. Wildfire explosions." Daenerys said as all stares turned to a paling Jaime Lannister.

"What about the people? My goodaunt… Lady Olenna…" Lord Rowan started, still in shock.

"She and Lady Desmera were with me when it happened. They are safe on Dragonstone and are supervising the search for other survivors and helping those who we were lucky enough to get to safety." Jon said and the lord let out a sigh of relief.

"Our mother? Have you…" Tyene started, only to cry out when both Jon and Daenerys shook their heads.

"The search is not over, Tyene." Daenerys said softly. "We cannot lose hope for now. We have mobilized all the abled people from neighboring keeps, as well as the Citadel and the rest of our forces who were in Dragonstone to help find the survivors, provide food and shelter to those in need."

"We need to get back there. We need to -"

"No." this time the Queen's voice was firm and uncompromising.

"I will not stay here while my mother -"

"I understand your frustration and your desire to seek your mother and I will not prevent you from going. However, your army will stay here, Princess Sarella." Daenerys stated.

"We would have stayed to help in the South if it hadn't been for the dragons pressing us to go North." Jon said and Rickon tensed at his words.

"The nights are becoming longer than the days, even in the south." Lord Davos added.

"While the temperatures have dropped and the Maester are all in agreement that Winter is here, this is not an occurrence they are familiar with in these parts of the lands." Dany pointed out.

"Which means the Long Night is about to fall upon us." Davos said.

"I don't bloody care about your fucking Long Night. Not while my mother could be dead in King's Landing!" Sarella spat and Rickon felt for her.

"We all care for Lady Ellaria, Princess." Jon said sadly. "I saw her the day before the explosion and we finally had a true conversation about family. There is none more than I who sought her and who feel her loss. But we looked for her everywhere during our time there, we've sent men to seek her and others out. It pains me to feel the lack of hope I do for her, yet feel it I do."

"She should be in the Red Keep or in Chattaya's, she…" looking at the dismayed faces of his brother, Rickon deduced that the Red Keep had fallen as it did in his dreams. "Please… Please let me go to her…" Tyene begged with tears in her eyes.

"As Queen Daenerys said, we will not prevent you from leaving. We understand how you feel and Lady Olenna's utmost priority is to find Lady Ellaria as well as Lord Varys, who too has been unaccounted for."

"Should you need any assistance, you will find accommodations to see you transported there."

"I … Thank you, Your Graces." Tyene whispered.

"What of Cersei? We all know she's the one behind this. Wildfire is her solution to solve every problem she gets. First at Blackwater Bay, then at the Sept of Baelor, and now…" Daven Lannister said bluntly, putting the attention back on his cousin Jaime who answered in kind.

"Cersei wants to be Queen. She would not -"

"She would not what? Raze the city she'd lost to the ground instead of leaving it to her enemies?" Sansa scoffed.

"We need to apprehend her before she hurts more people." Edmure said.

"Our spy network is now in disarray. We do not know where she is." Dany said and this time, Rickon felt his brother's knowing gaze on him.

"I will use mine to help." he said without flinching.

"Thank you, brother."

"What will happen to her when you will find her?" Jaime Lannister asked, nervously.

"She dies." Jon replied, his fury and hatred clear in his voice.

The meeting had all but ended at that point, those who had lost someone or who had been unable to offer anything to help, leaving the rest of them behind. Talk then had turned to the wedding, Jon clearly fearing that given all that happened and when the full truth of it was known to others, there were some who would see them being wed as selfish or worse. it had been his sisters, Missandei and Melisandre, and most of all Wylla who'd soon removed those thoughts.

"It needed to happen, had to happen." Wylla had said, and when he too added his own thought, the matter was settled.

It was good that it was, as the wedding was much needed. Not just by Jon and Danerys, but by them all. people needed a symbol of hope and to simply blow off some steam. Even those who'd felt lost after the meeting had welcomed seeing their new king and queen be joined and other than Sarella and Tyene, all had attended and seemed pleased to be there. For him, it was seeing the sheer joy on Jon's face that made it all worthwhile. All the doubts he held about the future and what it would mean for him and his brother, were forgotten when looking upon Jon's face.

Reality was soon to catch up to them, though, and the little respite they had felt was soon forgotten when the accursed raven arrived that night. Seeing Bran's face at that moment filled Rickon with anger. Of course, he'd known about all that would happen, and Rickon felt he'd been played once more, for Bran would have told them exactly what was about to happen should he feel the need to. Yet he had stayed silent, not because they had told him to, not because they'd dismissed him, but because he wanted them to. He wanted that moment to happen, his smug face saying 'I told you so' was proof enough for Rickon when he went to see his brother after the meeting he'd held.

"Are you ready to listen to me now?" Bran asked, failing to hide his smirk.

"You had a lot of time to talk to me, Sansa, and Arya about what would happen."

"You shut me out every time I -"

"Every time you tried to use another to play your fucking games, we did. When we were alone with you, not once had you opened your mouth to say anything."

"You do not trust me. Why should I lose my breath to warn you when you do not trust me?"

"Have you found a way to defeat the Night King?"

"No."

"Do you know what is his goal?"

"To get rid of all life on Westeros."

"Why is he attacking now?"

"Because the Wall has lost its magic. The dragon had seen to it."

"What the fuck do you mean by that?" Rickon yelled, thinking he was talking about Jon.

"Viserion had attacked the Wall when the Night King had tried to corrupt him."

"So it was the Night King?" he insisted, not convinced.

"Who else would it be?" Bran answered and for some reason, his answer didn't ring true to Rickon.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

"Will you uphold your vow?" Bran asked, making Rickon tense. "When the time will come to protect our family, will you do it?"

"I made a vow in front of the Old Gods." was all the young man would answer.

"You did. A binding vow I only heard twice in my life. One sworn by Jojen and Meera Reed, in the common tongue, and one made by me to the Old Gods, in the Old Tongue, as you did to me. I am truly sorry for you, brother."

"Why?" Rickon said, frowning.

"I know what it entails to be made to serve the Old Gods. The power they give you is enticing and you feel you can do everything, but it is not the truth. I agreed to be the Three-Eyed Raven because I thought I could help defeat the Night King, yet nothing I had learned so far has helped. I am plagued with visions of the future nobody wants to hear me out about, not even my own family. I am all alone, hated by all, and for what?"

Rickon's heart clenched as Bran's words reminded him of a time when they were there for each other. A time when they had only each other to rely upon, and when Bran would play his role of older brother to protect him to the best of his abilities.

"I'm sorry, Bran. I truly am."

"I wish you wouldn't take this path, but you never listen. I just hope you'll find it was worth it, for I do not. This is a curse, Rickon. Not a blessing. A curse."

For the first time since they reunited, Rickon felt his brother was truly sincere with him. Gone was the pretense of being emotionless, of controlling his demeanor. The sadness and the raw pain in his voice made Rickon shudder. Maybe Meera was right. Mayhaps the Old Bran, the one he had loved and cared about, was still there, and mayhaps like Sansa he needed something to happen to him to realize he was messing things up with the rest of the pack.

"One day, you'll have to tell me what they've done to you. For now, we should focus on defeating the Night King."

"Aye. That is the only thing that matters." Bran agreed before Rickon left the room.

Rickon didn't sleep that night. He watched with a small smile as Brienne all but dragged a worried Tormund to her chambers, as Missandei did the same with Grey Worm, while Alys, Ned, and Gilliane Snow invited him to a drinking contest. He let them win, as he needed to be sober for the upcoming discussion with Jon.

He waited for his brother to feel his presence at the door the next morn and was relieved to see Jon come to it dressed already.

"Brother? Is it time already for the other wedding? I had thought…" the blinding smile on Jon's face disappeared as he saw Rickon's contrite one.

"We received a raven during your wedding night. The dead have started attacking the Wall. Castle Black calls for help." Rickon said and despite the sigh that came from his brother, the resolve that came to Jon's face soon after, quickly strengthened his own.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. I want to thank you all for your kind messages, I'm recovering well and it really meant a lot to me to read them. Up Next, we take a look at a wedding night from the perspective of the bride and groom before goodbyes are said and the march to the Wall brings us to the eve of war.

Supremus: The problem with that is that Westerosi morals are what are relevant. Yes, people would celebrate Tywin's death, and was it anyone other than Tyrion who killed him, they'd be feted. But still, Kinslaying is a thing, it is considered probably the lowest thing that anyone in Westeros can do and so there would be consequences because of it. The show ignores this both in Tyrion's case and later on in Jon's. Arya asking him to kill Dany really shows just how little she cares about him because she's basically asking him to be a Kinslayer. So in that setting, far more people would damn Tyrion, the right or wrong of his actions aside, than would fete him and he'd certainly not be accepted as Hand.

Daryl Dixon: So glad you liked it.

Celexys: There is certainly more coming, as you see he's still trying to play on emotions and tug on heart strings, but he's having less success than he thinks. With the Starks it's been building to the point where they can argue with each other, four of them anyway, without it being a huge thing and it shows the shift in the earlier dynamic when motives would have been questions.

Tormund and Brienne was supposed to come out of left field a little, we put little hints in where Lyanna, Rickon and others gave him advice which he took and then decided to have it be a secret thing. Basically though, because Brienne was spending so much time with Rickon, as was Tormund, it allowed for her to see the other side of him and led to them ending up together. Where in the show, no Rickon, Brienne only sees Tormund from afar and so never gets to see what he's really like or have her view of him challenged. Meanwhile Tormund without Rickon and with that Lyanna, never is given any good advice on how to court her. So it's a little ripple effect.

Suppes: Thanks for saying so.

Malser: One more chapter and we'll be right at it.

Kingmanena: He really had to, someone did for all he'd said and Jon had warned him already.

J: Very true. I'll admit I'm not the biggest Edmure fan, but basically, he's just not a man cut out for war, that's literally the only thing wrong with him. His heart was in the right place and he tried his best, he's pretty much a peacetime lord who would probably see his people prosper. So in Tyrion's pov we have that reflected a little. The killing off of the Blackfish was just such a terrible plotline, and not only a waster of a great character or actor, but in a way it screws over two at the same time. Firstly you get them basically making Edmure do the complete opposite of his book actions, but you also get them to have the Blackfish act completely against all he stands for. In the books he's offered the chance to go to Jon Snow at the Wall, however he only knows Jon through what Cat has said and the fact he's now LC, makes him think the Lannister's responsible somehow. In the show, Brienne comes to him with a request for aid from his niece, which he ignores. There is literally no way on earth he'd do such a thing. Family, Duty, Honor is everything to him, even his reasoning of keeping his home goes against his book reasoning. So both got done dirty.

I agree with what you say about Tormund and Brienne, it's funny when you think of it with Jaime it's the same thing too, and for those who ship Sandor and Sansa, they really should look up the ages of both. Since this starts with show events, it's kind of tied into the show verse, but I've got a couple of other stories that have book Tormund in them.

Rhatch: So glad you liked it.

Scarilla: Thanks for saying so. Glad you liked the beating, it was a long time coming. With Sansa, her journey had to happen for her to be as supportive and as calm as she was here. With Meera, it's very needed. We tried to make the wedding as nice an occasion as we could, I'm so glad you liked it.

S0648960: Thanks so very much.

Dunk: Me too, my friend. I always thought that in the show too, how little info he actually gives, and yet people just think nothing of it. Here with him so actively trying to mess with people and so giving them more info to hurt them than he is about the NK and the Army of the Dead, someone was bound to pick up on it. He really is trying to sew chaos at a time when it's very much not needed, which I think is the only way you can interpret his show actions. Telling Jon the truth when he told him, how he told him, and with who he sent to tell him, can only be looked upon that way. He could have told Jon the moment he arrived back in WF, or at any time during the preparations, yet he waited and waited and then picked his moment. He didn't even Doctor Strange it, where he couldn't speak the words in fear of them causing them to fail, as the words he spoke pretty much caused the damage post the NK rather than stopped the NK himself.

Dorodigo: I'll try my best.

Creativo: Como ven, el Sur no es tan bueno y mientras el Norte aguante, el centro estará bien.

Wrysenseofhumour: Thanks for saying so, I feel much better now. Yeah he writes under Will Jordan and has a series of action books featuring the same protagonist, Ryan Drake. They're a bit like Reacher in style.

We see it happening now with LOTR, where they are changing characters to suit agendas and going against their established back stories. I mean I know fics do some of that, but in those we try and take the roads not taken, and in my own case I always try to introduce an element of change which I then allow ripple out affecting characters and plots. When you're actually adapting something though, then you should be confined to that adaptation as much as possible. Jon Snow in an adaptation has to go to the Wall and has to be a man Imo, in a fic, that's not necessarily the case.

With D&D the thing is even as fic writers they'd be terrible, as there is no logical consistency at times and certainly no follow up to plot threads. Characters literally forget things they said or placed some importance on from episode to episode and the closer they got to the end, the more of this that occurs. Egregiously so in some cases such as Dany/Tyrion literally having a conversation about the need to match a match in Westeros and then ignoring any mention of that match when Jon comes as KiTN to Jon Snow almost derailing the talks because he cannot tell a lie to then opening his words to the Lords of the North by lying. Dany never gave him the choice he says she did, she never forced him to kneel in order for her help and if anything had given her word about that help and Jon then knelt willingly. That's some blatant character inconsistency right there and as for Dany kinda forgot about the Iron Fleet, well less said the better.

I think the writing quality of those making our entertainment has just gone downhill, the clever twisting plots or interesting characters are few and far between and as bad as a lot of their own IP's are, when they're handed someone else's then you really see it. Star Wars, Star Trek, some of the comic book adaptations and now I fear LOTR too.

Won't confirm or deny the NK's reason, other than to say more is to be revealed in the next few chapters and you'll have the full truth of them, within three. I've listened to some of the theories, my biggest issue with Jon not being R+L=J is that Ned's actions and his unwillingness to name his mother just don't make sense. Even were he to be upset about his failed relationship or felt loss and hurt because of it, him not naming Ashara as Jon's mother is just too hard a sell for me. With Lyanna there's an obvious reason for it, with Ashara well in my opinion it's a forced one. I personally prefer the Jon is Lightbringer theory, that Rhaegar was Azor Ahai and that his first two attempts (Aegon/Rhaenys) failed leading him to Lyanna (Nissa Nissa) and Jon being forged by their union.

I think with Arya it was lazy writing, they just ignore the HOBW after she leaves and it makes more sense that either A) the HOBW was playing it's role in things or B) they'd be pissed. Since neither is answered it causes a problem.

Jon did beat up Bran pretty substantially, but he didn't break any bones or do any lasting damage and yes it was a wake up call and Jon letting his dragon loose. I like seeing the dragon as fire and the wolf as Ice, Ghost calming him and allowing him to have a quiet rage while Rhaegal allows him to give into the burning one. We see some of that with Jon at the Wall, his temper is unleashed once or twice and it's pure fire when it is.

With Edmure as much as he was being a dick here, we were going for a couple of things with him. As you say he raises things that someone from the South should and also, we were aiming for him sticking up for family, living his words somewhat. Only that family is dead and when you truly look at their actions, they're very questionable, as you raise here. By the end of the dinner, he at least is looking to the family he has left.

Bronn to me is not a good enemy, he's too easy to be removed and once you have someone who can wield a sword better than he, he's done for. So we wanted to go a different route here and show him in a different light. Also since the key is that things changed because of Rickon's presence it allows for Bronn's fate to change too and we wanted to set up a decent one for him. Yes, Rickon's oath is Irish. I agree completely in regards to Tormund, a thoroughly decent character and the one man who stayed completely loyal to Jon (other than Edd). Here because of Rickon and Brienne being placed to guard him, she got to see the side of Tormund that she didn't and because of advice from Rickon and Lyanna, he got to show a willingness to change, bringing them closer and allowing for them to get together.

Yeah, none of them wish to ruin the wedding night, but because of the Wall not the South.