Hi, I am sorry that I haven´t updated sooner, but I have been dealing with some personal issues and I haven´t been able to write in some time, but I hope that you will all like this chapter and are staying safe in these trying times.

SER BRYNDEN

He led his nephew Edmure, the Greatjon and Ser Wylis towards the King´s temporary solar. Brynden had been worried that the King was too tired to receive any visitors after having stood vigil over Robb and his direwolf´s bones, but King Jon had insisted that he was feeling up to it.

Brynden glanced at the Greatjon and Ser Wylis. Both men looked nothing like he remembered how they did just a few months before, but the maester seemed to think that they would recover in time.

Edmure was looking much better than they were however, but he was still showing signs of his imprisonment at the hands of old Walder Frey, and the worry about his only son and heir.

As they arrived at the door of the King´s solar, Brynden knocked on the door and waited for Satin to open it.

They didn't have to wait for long, and the young man opened the door and let them in with a large smile.

Satin hurried to where the King was sitting by the fire beside Brynden´s niece, lady Arya Stark, and his white direwolf was sleeping at his feet and Nymeria was gnawing at a bone by the fireplace.

The small table between the cousins was littered with rolls of paper, and Brynden was sure that he could spot his nephew Edmure´s scrawl on one of them.

Arya greeted the lords with a half a smile and a nod. The young woman had been working along side many of the lords to weed out those who were guilty among the Freys, as was her right as a Stark of Winterfell.

And she had been proving herself to not only very adept at getting the truth out of people without the need to torture them, but also that she was very fair during her interrogations of all those she questioned.

Brynden had gotten to spend a little time with his niece over the course of the few days they had been at the Twins, and it was getting very clear to him that Arya was very much her father´s daughter in this regard, as she didn't want to punish those who were innocent.

But Brynden had to wonder how she had gotten in the castle without being noticed by anyone.

He was confident that the Freys wouldn't have let her wander about the castle if they had known she was there, and if they had known, they would have used her as leverage against them when they arrived at the Twins.

But that didn't explain how she had managed to hide here when the castle had been overflowing with Freys on high alert, but every time she was asked who helped her to get inside the castle, she would reply, no one.

As she sat there by her cousin, he noticed there was a certain predatory grace about her, and Darksister seemed to fit her like a glove.

Cat had often spoken about her spirited daughter, but even his niece's descriptions paled in comparison to the real girl in front of him, and Brynden was glad that they did. They need more people who were as capable as young Arya Stark.

Brynden turned to the King and him a bow, and he could see the others hurriedly copy him.

"Thank you for taking the time to meet us, your grace. We know that you must be tired after standing vigil for King Robb." Ser Wylis spoke, and he seemed to fight the urge to rub at his freshly shaven face.

They had to shave all the hair from both him and the Greatjon as they had gotten lice from their time in the dungeon, but it seemed that Edmure was speared the shearing.

King Jon gestured for them to take seats by him and his cousin. "It is no trouble, my lords. I have been wanting to talk to you as well."

Satin handed everyone in the room a mug of ale, but Brynden refused his, as he didn't want to drink anything that could made him inebriated and cloud his judgement.

He needed to stay sharp at all times to protect his King.

Brynden remembered the King´s offer back in Barrowton that if they could rescue Edmure that he could join the revered order of the King´s guard.

He hoped with everything he had that the King would make good on that promise.

It had been Brynden´s childhood dream to join the King´s guard, and he remembered many an hour he had spent playing with Hoster as they pretended to be famous knights of the King´s guard.

Brynden´s favorite had always been Ser Ryam Redwyne.

But as Hoster had outgrown his childhood dreams of joining the order, Brynden hadn´t.

It had been the reason he had refused Hoster when he tried to get him to take a wife, Brynden just couldn't bring himself to marry a girl when he dreamed to become a King´s guard.

If he was ever offered to take the white, he didn't want to send his wife to the silent sisters just so that he could realize his dreams.

So it had hurt all the more when Hoster had flung his dreams into his face in his anger, when Brynden had opted to leave for the Vale and go into Jon Arryn´s service instead of obeying his brother and taking a wife.

"I would like to know, my lords," The King spoke with a serious look on his face. "how are you holding up?"

"I am doing much better, your grace, thank you for asking." Ser Wylis said with a smile on his face as he took a swallow of ale from his mug. "But we must confess that we have been hearing some disturbing things about the dead rising in the North."

"We have even heard…" Edmure spoke up, looking rather nervous. "We heard that you were murdered and rose back from your funeral pyre with four dragons."

King Jon looked almost uncomfortable for a moment before he hid it behind his normal stony mask. "Aye, those are all true."

"But your grace," Ser Wylis looked very confounded at the fact that the King had just confirmed both their questions. "Coming back from the dead is impossible, and if you hatched your dragons on your funeral pyre, they are much too big to have been hatched in the last couple of months, and where are your other two dragons?"

"Rhaegal and Viserion were not hatched by me, Ser Wylis, but by my aunt Daenerys Targaryen in Essos, but they decided to come to me after she locked them up for a crime that their brother was suspected of committing."

The men in the room looked stunned at the King´s words, but the young man continued speaking. "As for the dragons that were hatched on my funeral pyre, they are at Winterfell, guarding my family."

"But…but you cannot have come back from the dead? Could you?" His nephew´s voice was shaking as he stared at the King, and normally Brynden would have had to fight the urge to bury his face into his hands at how his nephew dared to question the King, but in these circumstances, it was understandable as he had just claimed to have been murdered and come back alive.

Brynden had a hard time believing it himself until he saw the scars on the King´s body at Littlefinger´s trial.

"He did come back to life; I was there, and I saw it." The King´s steward spoke up, clearly not liking the fact that Edmure had unintentionally called the King a liar. "I along with Queen Sansa prepared the King for his funeral pyre, and I was the one that placed his four dragon eggs on the pyre, and I saw him with my own eyes step out of the flames with four dragons in his arms."

The young steward spoke with such passion that if Brynden hadn´t seen the murder scars on the King´s body, he would still believe that Satin was speaking the truth.

"But rising from the dead is impossible." Edmure looked almost afraid now, but at what Brynden didn't know.

"That is not true." Lady Arya spoke up and took a small sip of the ale in her mug. "I saw Thoros of Myr resurrect Beric Dondarrion when he was killed by the Hound in a trial by combat."

"You mean to tell us that the stories about lord Beric are true? And that he has been killed numerous times?" Ser Wylis asked with his eyes the size of saucers.

The rumors had been flying around the Riverlands for some time that lord Beric had been killed on many occasions, but only to be resurrected again and again by his friend Thoros of Myr.

The small folk even called him the lord of corpses or the scarecrow knight.

"Yes, he was." Arya glanced at her cousin. "But he was a lot different from Jon. Lord Beric seemed to have forgotten most of what had happened to him before he was ever resurrected and he had even forgotten his squire, Edric Dayne, or how to get back to his own lordly seat, Blackhaven."

"I know that it is hard to believe that I was killed and came back, my lords. Perhaps it is best just to show you." The King unlaced the black jerkin and pulled at his shirt, to reveal the deep and cruel looking scar that was just above his heart, and it looked like whoever had struck the killing blow had twisted the knife to inflict more pain than was necessary.

Greatjon and Ser Wylis both balked at seeing the scar and Edmure looked a little green as the King laced his jerkin back up, to hide the scar once again.

But there was a flash of rage in Arya´s eyes as she glanced at where the scar was hidden, but it was gone as soon as it came, but there was no mistaking the murderous look in her eyes and Brynden was sure that if the King´s murders hadn´t been executed, the young girl would have hunted them down and dealt with them herself.

"I beg your pardon, your grace." Ser Wylis tore his eyes where the scar was located on the King´s chest. "It is just that when we were told that you had died and yet here you are, walking and talking."

"There is nothing to forgive, Ser." King Jon gave the man a small but reassuring smile. "I still have a hard time believing all of this myself."

"And the dead, your grace? They are coming from beyond the Wall?" Edmure´s blue eyes seemed to beg the King to say that the dead were not on the way south, but Brynden´s nephew would have no such luck.

"Aye, I am afraid so. I had the men who murdered me, executed and put in crates to that we could prove our words true, and we brought one with us on the march south."

It seemed that proving that he had indeed risen from the dead was enough to make the three men believe that the other stories were true as well, as the knight of New Castle spoke up. "Is there any way to stop them?"

"The dead men can be killed by fire, dragonglass or Valyrian steel, but the Others have only been killed with dragonglass and Valyrian steel so far."

"Valyrian steel is very rare, and where can we find enough dragonglass to arm the men to fight the dead?"

"Ser Davos has taken Dragonstone in my name and is already in process to mine and send the dragonglass to your father in White Harbor, be made into weapons for those fighting the dead."

There was pride in Ser Wylis´s eyes when the King talked about his father, and his contributions in the fight against the dead.

"Your grace." The Greatjon spoke up for the first time since entering the solar.

The man had been uncharacteristically silent ever since he had been rescued from the dungeons. "Pardon me but I was wondering about my son, is it true what they say that he sided with the Boltons?"

The actions of his son must have been burning at the man ever since he had heard the whispers of the Smalljon´s betrayal of his own liege lord, Rickon Stark for him to change the subject of their conversations so suddenly and without warning.

"Aye, he sided with Ramsay Snow and fought with him at the battle of Winterfell." Greatjon looked horrified and so stricken to hear his son had fought with Roose Bolton´s bastard, that he looked close to tears. "But no man can claim that he didn't fight bravely. It took Viserion, to make him back down and lay down his weapons."

Greatjon looked so devastated at hearing the conformation of his son's betrayal from the King. "Lord Umber," Brynden decided to speak up. "I was there as well, and your son did fight bravely as the King said."

"I do not doubt Ned Stark´s nephew or his word, Ser Brynden." The large man spoke in a low voice that was almost breaking with the sorrow of the thought what his son had done. "My son has gone against everything I have every taught him, for thousands of years we Umbers have been faithful to the Starks of Winterfell, until Smalljon took up arms against you, your grace and held his rightful lord hostage."

Silence filled the room for a moment before the King spoke again. "Aye, he did those things, but he also kept Rickon safe from Ramsay Snow and made sure that he couldn't hurt him. If he hadn´t we don't dare to think what might have happened to my cousin, it is because of that he was allowed to take the Black to regain his honor."

"But he should never have held lord Rickon hostage in the first place." The Greatjon´s voice almost broke, but he held it to gather by the skin of his teeth. "He should have kept the boy safe and tried to help him take back Winterfell from the Boltons."

Silence fell over them as the Greatjon took a moment to collect himself. "But what about his boy? Ned, what will happen to him?"

"Your grandson Ned Umber has made a pledge of fealty to house Stark and myself, and he will be marrying a girl of a house that held faith to house Stark, so there is no reason that he shouldn't remain the heir to Last Hearth." The King explained, and Brynden could see the hope light up the large man´s eyes.

"Thank you, your grace. Words cannot express my gratitude that not only did you allow my son to take the Black to regain some of his honor, but you also allowed little Ned to keep his birthright."

"My lord, punishing a child for the crimes of their parents is something I do not approve of." The King offered the large man another small, kind smile. "In fact, I think that it would be rather hypocritical of me, wouldn't you say?"

The bad joke made the lord of Last Hearth smile widely and give a weak laugh, but his spirits were lifted a little. "You truly are Ned Stark´s nephew."

The King let out a laugh at the jap at his poor excuse of a joke, before the Greatjon spoke again. "Your grace, if it is alright with you, I would like to accompany you south and help you retake Riverrun, and the capital. I would like to see King Robb´s wish for justice through."

"Of course, lord Umber, if you are feeling up to it, then you are most welcome."

After speaking with the King for a few more hours, both the Greatjon and Ser Wylis decided to continue on marching south, and to see Robb´s wish for justice for his father done and help the King to take back his birth right.

When Edmure, lord Umber and Ser Wylis headed out to get some rest, only Arya, Brynden and Satin remained with the King in his solar.

"How are the interrogations going?" The King asked his cousin.

"We have finished the last one, and we are prepared to start whenever you are ready."

"How about we start tomorrow with the lowest ranking ones and work our way to Old Walder and his most trusted sons and grandsons."

"I think that it is a good idea," Arya nodded eagerly. "they have all been very forth coming and quick to point fingers at Old Walder and many of his adult sons."

His niece glanced at Brynden and gave the smallest of smiles. "Well I shall leave the two of you to talk, I have to talk with lord Royce and lady Mormont about the trials tomorrow." She sprang to her feet as she gave him a subtle wink before leaving the solar with Nymeria following her, with the large bone in her mouth.

As the young woman left the solar with her direwolf, Brynden shot a bewildered glance at his King who spoke once the doors were closed. "Ser Brynden I believe I made you an offer back in Barrowton."

The Blackfish of house Tully could feel his heartbeat faster in excitement, and it took all of his will power to restrain his enthusiasm. "Yes, I believe that you did."

He could feel his palms start to sweat with nervousness as he prayed to the seven that the King wouldn't change his mind.

"Have you changed your mind, Ser Brynden?"

"No, your grace I would still very much like to be a member of your King´s guard."

At his words, the King nodded and smiled. "Good I am glad; I think that you will be a great Lord Commander of the King´s guard."

Nothing could have prepared him for his King´s words. "The Lord Commander? But I thought that you would offer the honor to Ser Barristan."

"Ser Barristan Selmy has declared for my aunt Daenerys and the last I knew, was still with her in Meereen."

"But he did so not knowing that you existed, so perhaps when he learns of your existence and the fact that you are Rhaegar´s trueborn son and heir, he will want to serve you as he would have no doubt wanted to serve your father."

Brynden wanted nothing more than have the great honor of serving as the Lord Commander of the King´s guard, but he would never have forgiven himself for not speaking about Ser Barristan, because the man was good and honorable as they came.

"Aye, Ser Barristan most likely doesn't even know I exist but when it comes down to it, I know and trust you and there is no one I would rather choose for the position."

"And if Ser Barristan come and declares for you?"

"Then I will allow him to serve in the King´s guard, but I would sleep better at night, knowing that you are the Lord Commander."

Brynden could feel the overwhelming emotions flood him, but he refused to allow them to come to the surface. "I would be honored to serve as the Lord Commander of the King´s guard."

The King rose from his chair, and Brynden hurried to do the same.

King Jon beckoned Satin to come over to them, and in the young man´s hands was white and silver scale armor and a fine white cloak.

As the Dragon King bid him to kneel, Brynden had never in his life felt prouder than he did at that moment, as he was sworn in as the Lord Commander of the King´s guard.

ARYA

She glanced at her brother, who looked exhausted if one knew him well enough to see beyond the mask that he seemed to have perfected in the three years that they hadn´t seen each other.

Arya was reminded of her father, when she glanced at her brother beside her, when he had sat in his weirwood throne at Winterfell, seeing to his duties as the lord of Winterfell.

It was a comforting thought that her father´s ways were being carried on in Jon.

And even though he had the crown of Aegon the conqueror on his head, and was wearing the colors of house Targaryen, Jon could not have looked more like the Northerner he really was.

Jon was the very image of a strong northern ruler as they all watched Ryman Frey curse and yell as he was dragged out of the hall and to the dungeons to wait till dawn for his execution.

She could feel satisfaction settle in her belly of the thought that soon all those who had taken part in the Red Wedding would have paid for the murder of her mother and brother.

The last few days had been exhausting for everyone, as they tried to sort out who had been involved in the planning and execution of the Red Wedding, but now as they were finally bringing justice to house Frey for the murder of Robb and her mother, along with so many Northerners, it felt well worth the fatigue that she was experiencing.

Arya could see a movement out of her eyes, behind Jon and glanced at her grand uncle, who was standing there proudly, in his new white and silver scale armor with the white cloak of the King´s guard around his shoulder that was fastened by pin made in the likeness of a leaping trout.

The Blackfish looked just like one of the King´s guard of old that old nan had told her about when she was a little girl.

Arya had come to like her grand uncle, he was everything her mother had said and more, and she was looking forward to getting to know him better on the road to King´s Landing, as she felt a little closer to her mother when she was talking to him, the uncle her mother had loved so much.

Thinking about her mother, remined her once again that they did not know where her body was, as well the fact that they couldn't give her a proper funeral, and it brought back the heartbreak with vengeance.

Jon had ordered men to search around the Green Fork for her body, but so far, they had turned up nothing, and it was looking more and more likely that they would never find Catelyn Stark´s body.

She tore her eyes away from the white cloak and scale armor of her grand uncle and looked around the hall instead to try and distract herself from the thoughts about her mother.

The hall was quite literally covered in the colors of house Targaryen, and with the colors of the lords that had now declared for Jon, creating the most colorful setting imaginable for the trials of those who were suspected in participating in the Red Wedding.

There were so many banners flying in the great hall, that for a moment she was reminded of the tourney of the hand, that Fat King Robert had thrown in celebration of the fact that her father had been made hand.

However, she had never seen the black and red banner of house Targaryen, except in the books of maester Luwin in Winterfell, and she had never thought that she would see them displayed like this, as house Targaryen was thought to be banished forever from Westeros.

But it seemed to her, that one should never underestimate a dragon.

Arya glanced back to her favorite brother, who was making an awkward attempt at small talk with her uncle Edmure, who seemed to welcome the attention from Jon, as he sat beside his young wife, lady Roslin Tully.

It was so strange to think that her brother was now the King, and the lords wanted to place him on the Iron throne.

But even stranger was that he had married Sansa, and they were raising Rickon and Jon´s cousin, Shireen together.

Now, that was something that had never occurred to Arya to even think about before.

But there was no one that Arya trusted better than Jon to protect her sister, and make sure that she was safe from harm.

After everything that Jon had told her about what had happened to Sansa after Arya had escaped King´s Landing, Arya was having a hard time controlling her temper and not just riding to King´s Landing and murdering Cersei in the worst possible way she could, since her spawn Joffrey was now dead and couldn't answer for his crimes.

"Why are you looking like you are plotting a murder?"

Arya almost jumped when she heard her brother whisper to her, and she was sure that if not for the training at the houses of Black and White, she would have.

"What on earth do you mean?"

"You have the exact same look on your face, as when you told me about your pie idea."

"I still stand by that idea; I think that it would have been poetic." She said with a straight face, but her brother, just smiled at her and shook his head.

When she had first arrived at the Twins, she had thought about making the Freys pay by baking a son of Walder Frey into a pie, and then making the man eat it, like in the legend of the Rat King, but Jon had arrived before she could put that plan into action.

But perhaps it was for the best.

Jon had reasoned that the lords of the North needed to see the ones responsible for the Red Wedding face justice. And they wouldn't have if Arya had baked the Freys into pies before they arrived.

And it did help that he had asked her to wield Darksister in his name. Just thinking about the sword at her hip made her smile with pride and wonder.

"But what were you thinking about?"

Arya shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing really, just waiting for all of this to be over, so that we can head off to Riverrun."

It didn't take a genius to see that Jon didn't exactly believe her, but she was thankful that he let it go, she didn't want to burden him with her thoughts, her brother had enough to worry about, like taking the Iron throne from Cersei, and fighting the dead.

Jon sent her one of his kind smiles and gestured for the next prisoners to be let in.

The doors were opened, and two guards half dragged and half carried Old Walder Frey into the hall, who was bound hand and foot to make sure that he couldn't escape.

Not that the old and infirm man would have made it very far, even if he had been left to wander the halls aimlessly and completely free of any bounds, as he was so old and could barely move, because of the gout that ailed him, without assistance.

The guards forced him to his knees before the high table, and all the lords were booing and hissing insults at the man as he was dragged before her Kingly brother.

The old weasel like man stared only hatefully at her brother and even though he said nothing, his ugly mouth continued to move without sound, like it had done when she had been disguised as his son, Petyr.

Arya could see that he glared briefly at his daughter, as lady Roslin sat beside her husband, but the old man quickly fixed his hateful eyes on Jon again.

Jon silenced the lords with a gesture. "Lord Walder Frey, you stand accused of betraying King Robb Stark and murdering him and his men under the protection of guest rights, how do you plead?"

The old man glanced at Ghost and Nymeria, who were both lying by the high table, and the white direwolf was showing him, his large, sharp teeth without making a sound.

There was fear in his old eyes as he glanced at the direwolves, but he turned his eyes back to Arya´s brother.

"What gives you the right to judge me and mine? Just because Rhaegar Targaryen squirted you into your whore of a mother doesn't give you the right to look down your nose at me, boy."

His words cause such an outrage that the lords in the hall started to shout and scream at the man and the Flint of the mountain clans jumped to his feet, clearly with the intention of burying his sword in the old man´s guts, but he was stopped by a gesture from Jon.

While Nymeria was now growling in her anger at the old man, Ghost had risen to his feet making the old man look ready to shit himself, much to her amusement, as Ghost ever so slowly inched towards him, with his unnerving red eyes fixed on him.

The garron sized direwolf was a sight to behold in his anger, and Arya didn't envy Old Walder of having Ghost blood red eyes on him, clearly ready to rip out his throat.

"Do not speak about my mother again, lord Walder." Jon voice was as cold as a Northern snowstorm, and the subtext was clear to everyone in the room.

Speak like that about my mother again and I will let Ghost kill you.

Arya was remined of the story of the old King and lord Baratheon, that maester Luwin had told her once, something about speaking softly and carrying a big stick and a dragon.

"How do you plead to the charges against you, lord Walder." Jon repeated the question in a firm voice, as Ghost took a step back without taking his eyes of old Walder, and rejoined Nymeria.

"Does it matter? You have all judged me and mine guilty." Old Walder snarled the best he could, but he was somewhat undercut by the fact that he had no teeth in his mouth.

"THAT IS BECAUSE YOU ARE." The Greatjon had finally had enough and stood up and shouted at the old man. "YOU ATTACKED US UNPROVOKED AND MURDERED KING ROBB WHILE WE WERE UNDER GUESTRIGHTS."

The big man´s words made everyone in the hall start shouting once again at Walder Frey, until Jon quieted them down once again. "As you can hear, we do have witnesses that were there, lord Walder, that testify to your guilt, and your own liege lord is one of those witnesses."

"Does little Edmure say that now does he?" The old man smirked at her uncle, who was sending the man an angry look that Arya had seen on Robb´s face when he had been pushed too far. "Perhaps he should be more careful about what he says, he wouldn't want someone thinking that he was saying something he could end up regretting, now would he?"

"You mean how you made him swear to lie to the other lords of this realm how we attacked unprovoked and that it was King Robb who instigated the Red Wedding?"

Even when threatened with two angry direwolves, hadn´t Old Walder looked so frightened as he did now, but the man was quick to mask that fear, but the damage was already done.

"I have never asked him or anyone to lie."

Jon turned to Edmure´s young wife, who had was sitting beside her husband.

Roslin Tully was clearly having a hard time as she sat by her husband's side, but Arya had to admire her bravery as the girl had insisted on being beside her husband during the trials of her family members that were accused of taking part in the Red Wedding.

"Lady Tully, could you please tell everyone in this hall, what you told lady Mormont, when she handed you back your son after she rescued him."

The young girl nodded at Jon. "Yes, your grace." Lady Roslin turned to the lords in the hall, and the fear and nervousness in her eyes was easy to see.

"When his grace´s army was at the gate´s, my father ordered my brother´s Lothar Frey and Walder Rivers to take my son and under the cover of night to take him from the Twins by the green fork from under the tower, so when the castle would fall they would have insurance that my lord husband would lie to all the lords of the realm about what happened in the Red Wedding."

Old Walder stared at his daughter in such horror that Arya was sure that she had never seen a look like that before in her life, and even as the outraged cries of the lords in the hall, the old man did nothing but stare, like he was made from stone.

Then the old man seemed to realize what his daughter had just said, and he started snarl at her in his fury. "You filthy whore, I should never have squirted you into your mother. You dare sit there betraying your own kin and tell lies about me, after everything I have done for you."

The girl looked ready to cry as Edmure grabbed her hand and stared at his good father with his angry blue eyes, that looked so much like Robb´s. "My wife is not lying, you traitor. You ripped our son from her arms, and you were going to use him as leverage, and if lady Maege hadn´t saved him, your sons would have taken him the seven only know where."

"I was saving my sons," Old Walder shrieked in his anger. "as long as Lothar and Walder had your squealing brat, the dragon spawn couldn't hurt them, and my house would survive."

The old man turned his runny eyes to his daughter once again. "And now you have doomed them all, you selfish bitch."

Arya had spent hours getting to know the Freys when she had been hiding as Petyr pimple, but even after that time she was having a hard time believing that any father could talk to his own daughter like that or use his own grandson so cruelly.

But regrettably, Old Walder wasn't done. "And it is not like you are innocent, dear daughter." His ever-moving mouth was pulled in a smirk and he let out a shrill hiccup of a laugh. "Without you, we could never have pulled of the Red Wedding, you knew what we were planning but did nothing."

"THAT'S NOT TRUE." Lady Roslin jumped to her feet and there were tears streaming down her face. "I ONLY KNEW THAT YOU WERE PLANING SOMETHING, AND YOU SAID THAT IF I SAID ANYTHING TO ANYONE THAT YOU WOULD HAVE PERWYN AND OLIVAR KILLED."

A needle could have been heard dropping at the words of the lady of Riverrun.

The old man shook his head angerly. "That is not true, you are just lying so that that fool Edmure will not set you aside and make you join the silent sisters or worse."

"So, you deny locking your own sons in the dungeons while the wedding took place, even though the servants and many of your own family members testify to it?" Jon asked with his face as unreadable as ever.

The Old man glanced at the growling direwolves in front of the high table in fear as he tried to think of something that could safe him, but it was clear to Arya that the old man couldn't think of a way out of this. "Kill me then. It is clearly what you want, so throw me to the dragons and my children after me and end house Frey, like how Robert should have ended house Targaryen."

Jon´s face turned even colder as the lords and knights in the hall seemed to restrain themselves from start shouting at the old man once again. "I am not Robert Baratheon, and I do not lay awake at night fearing the shadows of children."

While Jon´s face was as cold as the Wall, his eyes were aflame with rage. "And I do not execute men by dragon fire, but by the sword as is the way of the North."

Jon nodded at the guards, who grabbed Old Walder once again. "In the light of the evidence given by reliable witnesses, and the fact that you ordered the body of my cousin King Robb desecrated as well as having threatened the life of your own grandson, I Jon of house Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First men, lord of the seven Kingdoms, hereby sentence you to die."

As her brother sentenced the Old man to death, Arya felt her heart grow lighter, knowing that her brother and mother would soon have justice, in the form of the valyrian steel sword, Longclaw.