SANSA

She watched as Baelish was dragged away by lord Royce and the Flint of the mountain clans, the small man was screaming and crying, trying to convince her to tell them to let him go.

As they left the hall with the man, to take him to the courtyard, she could hear her name being shouted by him, begging her to help him.

Jon stood up and started out the great hall, making everyone follow him. His face was stoic, and his eyes cut like the swords that he had strapped to his waist. The four young dragons also followed the king of the seven kingdoms, not wanting to be left alone in the great hall.

As she followed her betrothed with Rickon and Shireen by her side, she felt the anxiety start to mount in her belly. She kept waiting for Baelish to pull out another trick from his sleeve and escape his execution.

As soon as they made it into the sunny courtyard, the four young dragons took to the sky and flew high over their heads, shrieking and roaring as they went.

They looked beautiful as the sun shone on their scales, it was like their bodies were made of precious stones as they flew above them.

Sansa looked back to the ground, she could spy Satin running up to them with a chopping block in his hands and he placed it in front of where The Flint and the lord of Runestone were holding the little man that Jon was going to execute.

The two big men forced Baelish to his knees in the dirt of the courtyard and in front of the wooden block as Jon drew one of his valyrian steel swords from its sheath, Longclaw. That was what he called this sword; it had been given to him when he had saved Jeor Mormont from one of the dead men some time ago.

The fear in Baelish´s eyes was something that Sansa hadn't seen before this day, he had always had the smug glint in his eyes, like there was a joke being told that only he was in on and he was the only one that was smart enough to understand it.

But no more, now his eyes only held the fear of the valyrian steel sword that had been drawn out of its sheath in front of him and the man that was wielding it.

Jon stood in front of the man. "For the crimes of betraying lord Eddard Stark, conspiring to murder lord Jon Arryn and handing Lady Sansa Stark to her enemies, I Jon of house Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Roynar and the First men, lord of the seven kingdoms, protector of the realm and defender of the faith, hereby sentence you to die. If you have any last words, I shall hear them now."

But Baelish wasn't looking at the king, he was staring at her with tears in his eyes. "Please Sansa, please I love you, all I have done is for you, please don't let them do this to me."

As the man sniveled on the ground, begging them to have mercy on him, when he had none for them, she could feel a small hand wrap itself around her fingers.

She could see Rickon take her hand in his, as he stared at the man in front of him, but there was no fear in his eyes, there was a hardness in them that looked out of place on such a young face.

Shireen was standing close to her on her other side doing her best at showing no emotion about what was happening.

Baelish was still begging for his life, as his head was forced on the block. Jon lifted his sword and as the sword fell on Littlefinger´s neck, the small man was still begging for his life.

The blood streamed out of his neck like a red river as his head rolled off his shoulders, and Petyr Baelish´s grey-green eyes stared unseeingly up to the blue sky.

Sansa felt a weight lift of her shoulders seeing the man die at the hand of her betrothed. She felt a hand on her shoulder as she watched Jon wipe of his sword. She looked behind her and saw her friend and protector, Ser Brienne of Tarth.

"Are you alright my lady?" Sansa smiled at her friend when Brienne asked her if she was alright.

"Yes, I am." For the first time in a long time, she wasn't worried that Littlefinger was going to start some convoluted plan to get his hands on her and the north.

Jon approached them as he sheathed Longclaw, as two guard took the body of Petyr Baelish and another took the severed head.

Jon looked at Rickon and Shireen. "You did well, both of you." Rickon beamed at Jon, he looked so proud for getting praise from Jon that he seemed to grow in size, and Shireen smiled at Jon as well with pride in her eyes.

Sansa could see that the lords in the courtyard were starting to disperse, but there were some that were trying to listen in on the conversation that Jon was having with his cousins but trying not to let it show.

Like lords Royce and Redfort were with the lords of the north and they were all trying their hardest not to let them notice that they were watching the king interacting with his family.

"But do you know why I had to do it?" Jon´s deep voice brought her back to the conversation. Rickon shook his head, but Shireen frowned. "It is a first men custom?" She half stated and half asked.

"Aye," Jon answered. "Our way is the old way and we believe that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword, and if you cannot look a man in the eye and hear his last words, perhaps then that man does not deserve to die. Do you understand?"

Rickon nodded with a serious look on his face, but Shireen frowned and looked like she was going to ask something but was conflicted.

Jon smiled at her. "Shireen, I know that the Baratheon´s of Storm´s End don't keep to the old ways," He put his hand on her shoulder in an almost fatherly way. "But when you take up the mantle of lady of Strom´s End and the lady paramount of the Stormlands, you will have to deal with these situations as well, and you will owe it to the people that you will sit in judgment of, to look them in the eye as you sentence them to their fate."

Sansa looked at her future husband and she felt such pride in him that it felt like her heart would burst. No other man that she had been promised to, had such way of thinking like Jon. Joffrey had been a selfish little prat that only thought of himself, Loras Tyrell was a spoiled young man that only wanted to knock men of their horses and then bed them afterward, or that was what the rumors said.

Tyrion had come the closest; he was a decent man and very smart. She knew that Littlefinger had been weary of the imp of Lannister, until Baelish had lost his head a moment ago. But Tyrion wouldn't have upheld the first men tradition of swinging the sword himself, even though he was capable. But he had been raised in such a way that he didn't do things himself if he couldn't throw a pouch of gold at someone to do it for him, especially if they involved killing.

Ser Harry Hardyng was another spoiled little boy that only wanted to knock men of their horses in tourneys, and the less said about Ramsay Snow, the better.

She could see that the lords had heard what Jon had said to Rickon and Shireen, and they were clearly happy with their king and how he was teaching his cousins.

Shireen looked thoughtful as she contemplated his words, but Sansa could see it in her eyes that his words resonated with the younger girl.

Jon then took his leave of them was he retreated to the godswood, like her father had always done after having carried out justice.

"Can I go with him Sansa?" Rickon asked while still holding her hand. She looked into his eyes, and she could see that he really wanted to go, but Sansa was sure that Jon needed a little time alone.

"Rickon, you and Shireen need to go to your lessons with maester Wolkan." Rickon pouted in displeasure but nodded non the less.

As she watched Shireen lead Rickon away to the maester for their lessons, Sansa when on with Satin to find rooms for the visiting lords.

JON

He didn't know how long he sat in front on the pool in the godswood, just cleaning Longclaw. He didn't feel guilty or bad for killing Littlefinger, he had committed so many crimes that it was time for him to be stopped, and Jon knew that killing the man was the only way to do so.

That man would have never stop trying to get his hands-on Sansa, no matter what happened, Littlefinger had been obsessed with Catelyn Stark and after she died, he must have transferred that obsession over to Sansa, or maybe even sooner.

Sansa thought that he had grown obsessed with her after Catelyn Stark died, but Jon wasn't so sure, there was something that kept nagging him that Baelish had started becoming obsessed with Sansa before lady Stark had died, but it didn't really matter now anymore, the man was dead.

He heard a shriek from one of the young dragons as they played in the air above him, their colorful scaled bodies reflected the sunlight beautifully in the high afternoon sun.

He started up at them for some time, just admiring them as they flew above the godswood. Then he heard the sounds of footsteps as someone walked over to him as he sat there cleaning the blood of his sword.

He looked over and saw the captain of his guards, Edric Strong, standing there waiting for Jon to be done. Jon stood up and sheathed Longclaw as he walked over to the man.

"Your grace, we have disposed of the body, we burned it as you requested that we should do to all the bodies." Edric ran his hand through his ink black hair.

"Good, thank you Edric, I appreciate your hard work." The man smiled proudly, it was a big thing being thanked by a king, and Jon made sure that he thanked his men when it was appropriate, and when they did a good job.

They started out the godswood. "So, are the men ready to move south to the Barrowlands?" Jon asked as they walked.

Edric nodded. "Yes, your grace we will leave Winterfell fully garrisoned as per your request, with only trusted men." Jon nodded his head.

They spoke for some time before they went their separate ways, Jon decided to head to his solar, as he entered the room, he spotted Ghost lying on his side in front of the fire, clearly enjoying himself.

Jon sat down in his chair and let out a sigh as he took of his crown and placed it on top of the book that was resting on the table beside him. "Your grace," Jon looked up and saw Satin was standing there and holding out a cup of ale in his hand. "Here you go, you look like you need it."

Jon smiled at him. "Thank you, I do need it." He took the cup and drank from it; the ale was smooth and much better than the swill he was used to at the wall.

"Your grace, lord Royce asked to talk to you when you have the time." Jon looked back to Satin, what could the lord of Runestone want to talk about? But he nodded anyway.

Satin rushed out of the room, to fetch lord Royce, as Jon waited in his chair. Jon was glad he didn't have to wait for long, he wasn't in the mood to entertain lords after the day he had. Not that Jon was ever in the mood to entertain highborn guests, besides his family.

His steward entered the solar again but this time he was followed by the lord of Runestone. Satin gestured for the older man to take a seat in the chair opposite Jon, then he offered the man a cup of ale, which the man took gratefully.

Jon remembered when the man had come to Winterfell to escort his third born son to the wall, so that he could take the black. Jon also remembered that lord Royce had like the taste of northern ale, in small quantities.

"What can I do for you, lord Royce?" Jon asked after a short silence.

The older man cleared his throat. "Your grace, I have heard that you intend to go to the Barrowlands and root out Lady Dustin, and after that you are going to the Riverlands to dispense justice and restore the Tully´s to Riverrun."

Jon nodded silently, confirming the man's words.

"Am I correct in assuming that you will be taking the knights of the Vale with you?" Jon almost smiled at the man. He did indeed intend to take the knights of the Vale with him to the Riverlands, for he had no intention of leaving them here when he was in the south.

Lord Stark had once told him and Robb, that you found your true friends in the battlefield, and while Jon didn't really trust his uncle´s judgement when it came to his friends, his words did ring true in Jon´s experience.

So, it was time to make some friends.

"Aye, I indeed intend to take the knights of the Vale with me south." Jon watched as the man nodded at him.

"I am glad your grace, it is an honor to help you liberate the Riverlands from the Lannisters and the Freys." Jon had a feeling that this wasn't the reason that the man had come to see him now. Jon watched as the man was trying to gather up his courage to say what he wanted.

"Your grace," The man spoke after some deliberation. "I think that Littlefinger had intentions of killing lord Arryn." Jon raised an eyebrow at that, it was a very real possibility that Baelish had intended to kill young lord Robert Arryn, but as the man was dead there wasn't a lot the whoremonger could do now.

"What makes you think that?" Jon was curious why the lord of Runestone had drawn that conclusion, maybe he had known something that Jon didn't.

"It was because he wanted to betroth lady Sansa to Ser Harry." The Bronze Yohn nursed his cup of ale as he spoke. "I think that Baelish was obsessed with lady Sansa and I think that it is suspicious that he suddenly wanted her to marry Ser Harry, and lord Arryn has always been a sickly boy and no one would have been shocked if he would develop a sickness and die, making Ser Harry the lord of the Vale."

Jon rubbed his beard covered chin. "Why are you telling me now?"

Jon could see the worry in the older man´s eyes. "The maester that always took care of lord Arryn, is one of Littlefinger´s creatures, or so I think, and he went with lord Arryn when we left the Vale, to foster with lady Anya Waynwood." Lord Royce cleared his throat. "I fear that Littlefinger may have left orders with the maester that if he should not return to the Vale, that he should kill young Robert."

Jon had to admit, Baelish did strike him as that sort of man, that would make his lackies kill young children if something went wrong, it was his method of operation, to sow as much chaos and discontent as possible.

Jon was now getting concerned, he didn't want the young lord of the Eyrie getting killed, but he couldn't send a large delegation to the Vale when he was marching of the Riverlands soon to fight the Lannisters.

He also didn't want to send lord Royce or Ser Brynden as they were two of the most experienced men, and Ser Brynden had fought in the Riverlands with Robb and would know the Riverlords well, and they respected him. Lord Royce and his men were also out of the question, as they were experienced and not battle weary.

Then an idea struck him. "Lord Royce, would you be willing to write lady Waynwood an letter stating your concerns about lord Arryn and the maester?"

Lord Royce nodded eagerly. "Yes, of course your grace."

"Good, we can send a small delegation with Ser Morton Waynwood, and have him deliver the letter, I think that Lady Waynwood would believe the news if they come from her own son."

The lord of Runestone smiled at him. "Thank you, your grace. I know that I may not have much to go on and I hope that I am wrong but lord Arryn´s life may be at stake."

The lord of Runestone seemed to have an inner debate with himself for a moment. "Your grace, I was wondering if I could ask you something."

Jon nodded his consent and waited for lord Royce to ask his question. "My son, Waymar. He went to the night´s watch to take the black, and sometime ago we got a letter stating that he was lost beyond the wall." Yes, lord Royce would naturally have questions of his son´s fate after seeing the dead Ser Alliser Thorne.

"I was wondering if he had been turned to one of those things?" Jon could see fear in the older man´s eyes as he asked the dreaded question. It was something no parent should have to fear, if their child was coming back to fight on the side of the dead.

Jon cleared his throat before he spoke. "Ser Waymar disappeared a little before I arrived. But Lord Stark did execute one of his companions for desertion after Ser Waymar disappeared. That man told us that they had been attacked by an Other and that your son fought them bravely, but they were outnumbered. It is most likely that Ser Waymar was turned."

Jon didn't want to tell a man that his son had been killed and made into a living corpse, but he couldn't lie to him either. Lord Royce had a right to know the truth about how his son died, and while Jon may have embellished the truth of how the man his uncle had executed, had told them that lord Royce´s son had fought bravely, Jon couldn't really see the harm in lord Royce hearing that.

The grief in lord Royce´s eyes made them shine like polished steel. "Thank you for telling me, your grace. I needed to know."

There was a knock on the door before Jon could say anything, and Satin who had been working behind Jon´s chair, rushed to see who it was.

"Lord Royce, what a surprise." Jon heard Sansa´s voice as she entered the room. Both Jon and lord Royce stood up from their chairs, as was proper when a lady entered the room. Just by entering a room, Sansa made the atmosphere brighter, and the overwhelming sense of grief was lessened.

Jon offered her a seat in the chair beside him, which she gratefully took, as she must have been on her feet the entre time after Jon had taken his leave.

"We are so happy to host you and the other Vale lords, lord Royce." Satin walked up to Sansa and offered her a mug of ale. She smiled at the young man as she took hold of her mug. "I am just sorry for the grim reception."

But lord Royce just smiled kindly. "There is nothing to be sorry about my lady, I am just glad that Baelish in no longer here to torment us with his blatant power grabbing."

Sansa smiled at his words. "I agree, I am just sorry that so many had to die for his ambitions." Lord Royce told her what he and Jon had discussed about Littlefinger and lord Royce´s fear of Robert Arryn being in danger.

At this news, Sansa frowned. "I agree, I think we need to get this maester away from lord Arryn, just to be sure. We can't take any chances with his life."

They talked with lord Royce for some time, before the older man excused himself.

Jon and Sansa sat in silence, before Jon asked her. "Do you think he is right? Do you think that Baelish ordered the maester to kill lord Arryn if he didn't return?"

Sansa looked worried. "I don't know, but I am not willing to gamble with his life." Jon nodded, she knew Littlefinger better than him, and if she thought that it was a possibility, that he would take it seriously. He trusted her judgment and he found himself always hoping to hear what she thought on all matters.

Jon looked her over, to him she seemed like there was a weight lifted of her shoulder, and she seemed a lot happier.

She was holding her mug with both of her small hands, and she was smiling softly into the mug, like it was telling her something funny.

"Are you alright?" He asked with a smile tugging at his lips. Sansa looked at him in surprise.

"Yes, of course, why wouldn't I be?" Her blue eyes were wide as she asked.

"You are smiling into your ale like it is the funniest thing in the world." Sansa rolled her eyes and gave him a little push on the shoulder.

"Shut up." She said as a smile spread of its own will, across her face, as Jon just laughed.

They sat there in silence for a while before Jon asked. "But how are you, really?" He studied her face, trying to find any trace of any discomfort. Sansa had told him that she had been made to watch her father get beheaded, and he didn't want her to have to relive that trauma.

He had been afraid that watching him behead Baelish would have brought back memories of when Joffrey ordered lord Eddard, beheaded and that she would start associating him with Joffrey. But he couldn't ask her to stay behind in the great hall.

Jon didn't want to disrespect her like that, and Sansa would know if she couldn't handle something and would behave accordingly, or so he hoped.

Sansa smile a little and reached over and took his hand into her small one. "I am fine Jon; I am just glad that it is over now and Littlefinger is dead."

It was enough to dispel any worry that he might had that Sansa saw him as another Joffrey, and he felt relief flood throw his body like ale after a long night on the wall.

ARYA

She had intended to arrive at the Saltpans, but after the war of the five kings, she couldn't find a Braavosi captain to land there, so she settled for Maidenpool.

The town was walled with pink stone and on the east side there where hills with soldier pines growing tall, and the castle of Maidenpool and the seat of house Moonton, was on a hill on the other end of the small harbor town.

As she took her first step back on dry land, she looked about her and watched the people of the busy harbor bustle about with their wares. The seagulls added to the noise as they flew overhead, while trying their best to grab something from the ground to eat.

She could hear the faint call of a young girl selling clams, and it brought a small smile to her lips.

Arya remembered being that girl, or someone like her. Maybe one day she would be her again, but not today.

Today, she was Arya Stark of Winterfell, and she was on a mission.

Arya Stark had to avenge her brother and her mother. The Freys, Lannisters and the Boltons would pay with their blood for what they had done to her family. She would start with the Freys as they were the closest, then she would go to king´s landing and kill Cersei and her family. After that she would be traveling north to her home of Winterfell to kill Roose Bolton and his bastard.

But first she would have to buy a horse and supplies for the trip. Money wasn't an issue, not for her, not anymore.

The faceless men had taught her many things, making sure that you had enough coin to do your business was one of them.

Arya walked around and found an inn, that would be a good place to start. She wanted to hear news from Westeros before she began on her journey, and there was no place better to gather intel then an inn.

Arya entered the noise inn and sat at one of the tables. She waved the innkeeper over to order some food and ale.

The inn wasn't as crowded as she had feared, too many people created too much noise, and then it would be harder for Arya to overhear what they were gossiping about. The innkeeper brought forth good brown ale and mincemeat pie that smelled heavenly after the long sea voyage.

As she ate, she listened to the talks around her.

The two farmers behind her spoke how the Kingslayer had taken Riverrun and had now given it to his aunt Genna Lannister and her Frey husband. As the men said the name Lannister, one of them spat on the ground in anger while the other frowned. The Lannisters didn't have many admirers in this part of the world.

Then again, Arya doubted that there were many places that the Lannisters were liked, even Lannisters didn't like other Lannisters if the rumors of Tyrion Lannisters killing his own father and nephew with Sansa´s help were to be believed.

But the two men seemed a little merrier when they spoke of Ser Brynden, Arya´s granduncle´s escape from the castle.

There were three guards in Moonton colors in front of Arya, speaking quietly about the happenings in the capitol. Arya had to stop herself from laughing when she heard that Cersei had been arrested by the faith militant and made to walk naked through the streets.

Normally Arya wouldn't have wished that fate on anyone, but Cersei was a special case. That harpy had ordered Lady killed, when she full well knew that she hadn't done anything, and she had stood by when her monstrous son had ordered Arya´s father killed.

When Arya closed her eyes, she could still hear her sisters screams as they chopped of their father's head with his own sword.

But it was the conversation between two of the servant girls that Arya was the most interested in.

"Did you hear? Apparently, there is a new king being crowned in the north." Wait what? A new northern king? But all of her brothers but Jon where dead, and he was a bastard in the nights watch.

The girl or rather young woman, that spoke was pretty enough, but she had large crocked front teeth that made her a little hard on the eyes.

The other girl was younger, and wild orange hair. "But I thought the Starks were all dead, Bryn told me so."

The older girl with the large teeth started to wipe of the table as she answered. "Apparently this one isn't a Stark." She said with a grin, and there was a twinkle in her eye. She was clearly enjoying the fact that she knew something that the other didn't.

"What do you mean? I though your northern…friend, said that the northerners only follow Starks?" When she said the word friend, it was clear that she meant something else.

The older girl stopped wiping the table and took two empty cups of the table and walked over to the counter, but Arya could still hear them. "Normally, yes but this one is half a Stark."

By now Arya wasn't the only one listening in on the conversation, almost everyone in the inn were watching them.

The younger girl opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted by one of the guards. "Oy, I heard about the new king," That made everyone look at the man and he seemed a little exited at being the center of attention.

"My friend from White harbor, one of the sailors of the Winterqueen, saw him with his own eyes, riding through the streets with the lady of Winterfell, Sansa Stark." As the man grinned, Arya could see that his teeth were brown and were starting to rot.

Arya felt her heart leap to her throat, Sansa was alive and in White harbor. Arya had never been this interested in a conversation between people she didn't know.

The older servant girl nodded fiercely. "I heard that too, apparently lord Stark´s bastard wasn't a bastard at all, but Rhaegar Targaryen´s trueborn son with the Stark girl."

Arya´s mind stopped working for a moment and she felt her insides freeze at the girl's words. Where they saying that Jon wasn't her brother? He was the only possible candidate, but he was a sworn brother of the night´s watch, he couldn't have been crowned king.

But the man spoke up again. "I heard that he had four dragons that he hatched with blood magic." This made the people start muttering to themselves.

"All the dragons are dead." The innkeeper said gruffly as he wiped a mug with a rag.

"My friend saw them with his own eyes, I swear. As the king and lady Stark were marching out of White harbor to reclaim Winterfell, they were flying overhead." The guard said passionately.

The older servant girl spoke up. "I heard that too, I heard that the new king had four dragons and a direwolf, white as snow and as large as a horse. Just like the king in the north had."

Arya stared at the girl, Robb´s direwolf had been famous in the Riverlands as he had gone with Robb into battle, but Ghost wasn't well known, and as far as she knew, only few people knew that Jon had a white direwolf.

Could they be telling the truth? Was Jon really the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark? before today she would have laughed at these people for thinking that Jon was a secret prince, but the girl had known the color of Jon´s direwolf, so maybe there was a grain of truth in these rumors.

She would have to find out, but first she would have to make her way to the Twins, she had business with Old Walder Frey and his get.