Jon

Saying that the day was chaotic was an understatement. Nearly a hundred people died within the walls of the castle amidst the wildfire and fighting and nearly the same amount were killed in the camps. Had the Dornish armies and Dothraki not reacted as fast as they did, then hundreds more would have been killed, maybe a thousand. But there were still casualties among the ranks of soldiers and even the families of great houses. The Brackens lost their heir, Lady Ramona Dondarrion succumbed to a wound she took and now her six-year-old son was to inherit the rule of House Dondarrion. Many were grieving for their loses while others were plotting for revenge. Those who wore the Lannister colors and were smart or had no part in this plot had thrown down their weapons and fell to their knees, but even then, there were some who could not escape the wrath of those that were angered.

In the castle grounds, it took about an hour to douse the wretched green flames of the wildfire. The explosions didn't cripple the castle, but there were many important parts that were destroyed. The forges and all the materials, including some Valyrian steel weapons and armor being made, were destroyed. There were about fifty men in the armory to take up arms against the loyalists when the second explosion happened. All the food in the storerooms was burned into ash and there were few in the Great Hall when the explosion that destroyed half of the Great Keep went off.

The amount of death and destruction was minuscule to the war with the Night King, and yet things were far worse. There was turmoil in the camps, many were still suffering from injuries. Cersei failed to have House Targaryen eradicated, but she succeeded in making things go beyond control.

But in the chaos, there were some moments of joy. Bran had woken and was back to being Bran according to him, and Daenerys safely birthed Matthias and Aemon.

The Lord's chambers were cleaned of the dead by now. Varys's body was taken to be prepared for his and many others' burials. Some of the servants who survived brought the unused Ironwood crib for the babies. Thought it was meant for one, it was big enough to fit both of the twins in it. They slept quietly during the wait for the Starks and Tyrion and Missandei to come. Sam and Gilly took Little Sam to another room with protection from Tarly bannermen.

Sansa and Rickon were brought by some of the guards. In Sansa's arms was a babe he only saw once but recognized as Arthur Dayne. Jon embraced his siblings when he saw them, relieved that they were safe. Accompanying them were the Dayne children. Sansa had been looking after them and protecting them how she could.

Jon knelt down to little Ashara and little Gerold. Both of them still mortified by the death of their mother and the attack. "Are you two hurt?"

"No." Ashara sniffed and wiped her tears away. "Are you the dragon king?"

"Uh… I am the King. My name's Jon, what's yours?"

"Ashara Dayne. Where's papa?"

"Your papa got hurt fighting off the bad people, but he'll be alright, I promise. But you're gonna stay here until it's safe, alright?"

Ashara nodded and clung to Sansa's dress.

Jon smiled warmly at her and looked behind him. "Do you see Ghost? He's going to keep you safe too."

Ashara finally showed a small smile, happy to see the direwolf.

Jon stood up facing Sansa. "I'll have the other crib brought in for Arthur. He can rest with the other babes."

"Other babes?" Sansa asked.

Jon smirked as he cocked his head back to the crib with his sons.

Sansa and Rickon both became surprised and amazed. They both walked over and beheld the sons of Jon and Daenerys.

"They're wonderful," Sansa said.

"And so pink," Rickon commented.

Sansa turned to Jon, smiling at him. "Father would be proud of you."

"Thank you, Sansa."

Ashara and Gerold stayed together and ended up falling asleep up against Ghost on the floor. Sansa took a seat near them while waiting for the other crib for Arthur to be brought. Rickon kept looking Jon's children, amazed.

When the crib was brought, one of the guards informed that Bran was going to be with Meera for quite some time until his presence with Jon was a necessity.

Tyrion had taken shelter in the godswood with Ser Davos and was saved by Bronn, Arya, and Gendry. He and Davos had come and all had relief that both Jon and Daenerys and their children were safe while Gendry and Arya were needed elsewhere for now.

Davos sat with Sansa, ready to help with the Dayne children since he had experience as a father while Tyrion took to talking with Jon.

Jon was sitting in a chair next to the crib his children slept in, unable to take his gaze away. He never adored something so much in his life before. This was all something new to him, something terrifying and at the same time calming.

"Is she hurt in any way?" Tyrion asked looking at Daenerys.

"Just tired," Jon replied. "She's earned the rest."

"I agree, but with everything going to shi-..." Tyrion glanced over to the Dayne children and back, "going very badly, her presence will be needed soon as will yours. Everyone will be looking to you for command and guidance, and many who suffered will be seeking your approval for vengeance."

"I'm not letting revenge be disguised as vengeance. There will be justice for those lost today. But I will not butcher men without a trial." Jon took a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts. "I will give them one chance and one chance only."

"May I ask how?"

Jon sighed as he shook his head. "I'm still working on that."

At this time, the door to the room opened and Missandei rushed inside with Qhono. She looked terrified at first when she saw Daenerys in the bed. "Your grace!"

"Shh," Jon shushed calmly. "She's fine, just resting." He gestured a hand to the crib with the babies in it. Missandei's worry turned into wonder and joy when she approached them in marvel.

Missandei turned to Jon and Tyrion. "They're beautiful. Congratulations, your grace."

"Thank you." Jon got up from his seat and offered it to her. "I have some things I need to take care of now. I would like my wife to wake up to her friends with her if I am not back by then."

Missandei smiled at him and sat with Tyrion. "Are you alright, my lady?" Tyrion asked.

"Just fine, Lord Tyrion," Missandei replied.

Jon retrieved his sword belt and tied it around him. "Ser Davos."

"Yes?"

"Send word to all the lords and ladies that we will all be gathering in the meeting hall tonight."

"Yes, your grace."

Before leaving, Jon took another look at his sons sleeping in their crib. He then approached Daenerys and gave her a light kiss on her brow. "I'll be back as soon as I can." He made for the door. "Qhono, come with me. Ghost, stay." With Ser Jorah and Ser Cole indisposed with their duties, Jon would still need a guard as a precaution.

Qhono nodded and followed Jon out of the room while Ghost remained, watching over those inside. They went to the room Sam and Gilly were in to make sure they were alright. Sam was free of injuries as far as Jon saw when he first saw him, but he looked distraught at something, most likely the death of his sister. Checking on his friend was the least Jon could do for him since he stood vigil to Daenerys in labor.

The Tarly bannermen stood at attention when they caught sight of Jon and Qhono approaching.

Giving a couple of knocks first, Jon called through the door. "Sam, may I come in." He could hear what sounded like recovery from crying.

"Yes, one moment," Sam replied.

It didn't take long until the door opened. Gilly was the one who opened it and allowed Jon and Qhono inside.

Sam was sitting on a bed, his eyes red from tears. Jon was the first to see Sam's sister dead body and witnessed when Melessa Tarly had broken down in front of everyone at the sight. Sam didn't cry then, but he was now and no one could blame him for it.

"I'm sorry about Talla, Sam. I never thought something like this would have happened. Is your going to be alright?"

Sam shook his head as his eyes fell to the ground. "My mother's dead, Jon. I only left her alone for a few minutes… and when I returned, someone had cut her throat like Talla."

Jon felt like someone stabbed a knife in his chest again. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry-"

"Your Grace!" Lord Royce appeared in the doorway, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword and the other over his heart. "Thank the seven you are alright. I and many others feared the worst when we couldn't find you."

Jon nodded assuredly to Lord Royce. "I'm alright. If you could give me a minute-"

"Jon, I want to be left alone if I could," Sam muttered.

Jon turned to Sam and could see that he was in a state of utter misery. He didn't want to leave a man he would call his brother alone to weep and mope, but one look from Gilly told him that she would be all Sam needed for now.

Jon nodded and went to leave, but glanced at Gilly before he did. "Thank you, for help my wife. If there's anything I can do, let me know."

Gilly smiled. "Thank you, Jon." She closed the door behind Jon and Qhono.

He didn't want to leave Sam, but maybe it was for the best. Sometimes being alone is all a person needed, but if anyone could help Sam feel better, it was Gilly.

"Forgive me for interrupting, your grace." Lord Royce said.

"It's alright. Do you have anything to report on of the condition of the camps and the Lannister bannermen?"

"The attacks have ceased and the Dornish combined with the Riverlands, the Vale, and Dothraki have surrounded the entirety of the Westerland armies and any others sworn to Cersei. Their arms and armor have been confiscated and have not a single man have a chance to even pick his nose without someone noticing. The dragons are causing a bit of unrest and fear among many. Remarkably though, they are keeping their distance. It seems a little unnatural after witnessing what I have about them."

Something, or rather someone, was keeping them at bay. "Who led the counter defense?"

"I and several others did, your grace."

"I'll not let your valor and loyalty be forgotten, Lord Royce. Keep them under confinement for now, but round up all the Lords and Generals to stand trial."

"A wise decision. May I inquire about the queen's condition? We've heard that many tried to kill her but failed."

Jon couldn't contain a bit of a smirk. "She's resting from the birth, my lord."

"The birth?" It took Lord Royce a moment before he finally realized the obvious. "My sincerest congratulations, your grace. Such a thing will help bring some light to repel all the dismay and sadness today. Also, you should know that the lord and Lady Baratheon are in need of you for an urgent matter."

"Thank you, my Lord," Things were calming down now, enough so that Jon felt he wouldn't need protection as much as he assumed. "Qhono, go with Lord Royce. Gather enough Dothraki to make sure the captives won't pose a threat."

Qhono bowed his head and followed after Lord Royce.

Now alone, Jon took his leave from inside the castle to the outside. He needed a moment to contemplate all that was happening. He walked along the walls, looking at the destruction that occurred within and without the castle. He leaned his fists on the battlements and gazed out to the last of the smoke that remained after dousing the tents that were lit aflame. He felt his fists tighten as the anger arose within him.

He was sick of the fighting, sick of the betrayals, the backstabbing, and the plotting, tired of the wars. He wondered if when all of it was over, regardless of whoever won the war for the Iron Throne, would it end there?

If he could have his way, he wouldn't have another battle. He would have thousands more die for victory, just one. The idea Davos had before all of this happened was something Jon was torn between saying yes and saying no. He would not have Cersei murdered in the night, he wouldn't stoop to her level. But if he didn't, then even if he came out on top of this war at the cost of the city, he would still lose.

Jon felt stuck. He couldn't wait any longer for this to end. He had to act as soon as he could. But at the same time, he wasn't sure if he could. Cersei only had an army the third the size of his. The Dothraki alone would be enough. But if he marched every abled soldier to King's Landing, would it remain or would Cersei destroy it all because she isn't willing to accept an honorable end.

Then again, her having a shred of desire for any kind of honor was ridiculous. She was a mad queen, the Mad Queen. If this was going to be her end, she would make sure it would not be forgotten, it would be a death so great it would be legendary.

He needed guidance but from the right person. He wished his father was here to help him, he wished Maester Aemon could provide the words he needed like he always did. Jon knew he had to do the right thing, he just wasn't sure what that was right now.

His thoughts were broken when a crier called out to all who could hear in the courtyard.

"Hear ye! Hear ye! On this day of winter, the Queen, Daenerys of the House Targaryen has given birth! We welcome the twin princes, Matthias Targaryen the first of his name and Aemon Targaryen the first of his name! Long live the heirs to the crown!"

After the man had announced that suddenly, the mood had instantly shifted. There was hope in the eyes of the people again. Hope that things would get better.

Jon longed for this to last. He would do everything he could to keep that hope there.

"I never thought it was possible for you to smile when you brood, " Arya said as she approached. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit of everything I think," Jon replied. "So many things have been happening today, and it's not even evening yet. You?"

"Same I suppose. Right now, I want nothing more than to burn Cersei alive in wildfire, give her a taste of what she loves doing these days. At the same time, I can't wait to go see your babies." She looked back to the castle and together they observed at the destruction that happened. There were areas of the stone foundation that was not just destroyed by the wildfire but melted like candle wax.

"Why is it that everyone wants to keep destroying our home?"

"Perhaps it's Winterfell's age," she suggested. When he gave her a confused look, she explained, "Well, it is the oldest of the castles in Westeros. Perhaps they feel we are in need of some...newness." But then she ended the joke with an impish grin.

Jon couldn't help himself as he pulled Arya into his arms and hugged her. She could have died today, any one of his siblings or family could have but they didn't. It only made things worse of what he had to ask of her soon.

"I was told you and Gendry had something important to tell me."

"Aye, he's waiting for us at the godswood."

Jon followed his sister to the entrance, but that was as far as they went. Gendry was waiting there for them.

"You wanted to see me?" Jon asked.

"The Valyrian swords I forged are gone."

"Destroyed in the explosion with the forges. Is there any chances more can be made soon?"

"No, they weren't destroyed in the wildfire, they were gone. If they melted, I would've found molten metal were they were like I did some of the other weapons, but there was nothing. A dozen swords are gone. I think they might've been stolen before the attack."

"You think," Jon stated. "Are you sure they weren't moved?"

"The only work I didn't have kept in the forges was the rest of your armor. I've had it put in your room this morning, and then there were two swords I made put aside in Tyrion's room just before the fighting started, and then my new hammer." Gendry moved his cloak and lifted up a massive war hammer. The design was similar to his original, but he had his own sigil on it in polished brass and the rest of the head was made entirely of Valyrian steel. Because of that, the head was also larger than normal, but his hammers were already larger than normal, to begin with. "Besides them, nothing else of what I or the other smiths have made has left the forge. But I figured the best way to find out was to ask Bran if he could see what happened."

"Then why do you need me?"

"If they were stolen, I'll need help taking them back. I've never let anyone steal from me in King's Landing and I'm not gonna let that happen here either." Gendry marched into the godswood with Arya and Jon following after him.

"He's starting to show his temper," Jon commented to Arya.

"Well, he is a Baratheon." Arya reminded,

Jon, Arya, and Gendry approached the weirwood slowly but stopped when he noticed Bran with Meera Reed. They talking with each other, Bran saying what he could to comfort Meera during her time of loss. In a sense, Jon envied her. She got to hear her father say goodbye to her. He never had that privilege with either of his nor his mother.

Meera noticed them and excused herself. Before she passed them, Jon stopped her. "Meera, I… I'm sorry that your father died that way."

"Don't worry," she told him. "He died smiling at me." She continued onward and left the three of them alone with Bran.

"Shouldn't be resting in bed?" Jon asked.

"I've been resting for too long," Bran said with an upset expression. "If I had only been awake, I could have stopped this happening. I could've saved them all" He was getting more frustrated with himself, which surprised Jon.

"What happened to you? You used to be… a dead man had more attitude than you, but now you're reminding me that you are a person again."

Bran chuckled as he shook his head. "If I could remember, I'd tell you. But know that I'm Bran again, not just the Three Eyed Raven."

"I never really understood it that much in the first place, but maybe it's for the best."

"Yes, it is. I saw your sons, I can see them now. They look just like you did as a baby. I'm happy for you and Daenerys, truly… but congratulations and small talk what you're here for, is it?"

"No, we need your help." Jon turned to Gendry.

"The Valyrian swords I was working on are missing from the forge, and I'm certain that they weren't destroyed. I think they might've been stolen."

Bran seemed to look out in the distance at nothing, his facial expression kept changing as if he was having a conversation in his mind. "You're right, they were stolen before the wildfire was set off. The thieves who took them are bannermen of Ser Devan Lannister, they're taking them to Cersei."

"Dammit!" Gendry shouted. "How far away are they?"

"Twenty miles from here, you can't catch them."

"I can," Jon said, "I'll take Rhaegal and intercept them. Can you show the way?"

Bran nodded. "I'll lead you with my flock of ravens. You'd best hurry."

"I don't think there's a horse that can outrun a dragon."

"I wasn't talking about them." Bran looked concerned. "The dragons are growing angry, so much I don't think have a chance to keep them at bay. You need to go and calm them."

Another thing to worry about. Jon turned to leave, but then he had an epiphany. "Bran, tonight, the lords of the Westerlands are going to be brought before the lords of Westeros, and I need to know which ones were involved with today. Can you help me with that."

"Yes, of course," Bran said, agitated, "now go!"

Jon cracked a smile. "It's good to have you back, brother." He took his leave from the godswood after getting the last word in he needed.

A screech from the dragons caught Jon's attention as he ran through the gates. He looked out to their nesting area and saw them growing more violent, so much that they might try to unleash fire on the other. He ran as fast as he could through fresh snow to reach the dragons. The ground was started to shake from Drogon's thrashing about and the sound Rhaegal's voice was deafening to hear.

Jon stood before them with his arms up, showing no fear to them even though he could be crushed and killed. "Enough!"

The three dragons all turned their attention to him. Drogon slowly crept forward and loomed over Jon. Being so close, the black and red dragon was like a mountain. Drogon lowered his head and snuffed smoke at Jon. Ever since his leg healed as much as it could, Drogon had been more aggravated than he already was. There was a large scar that looked like it pulsed with pain.

Jon removed his gloves and reached his hand out. He lightly touched Drogon's snout. He could feel the turmoil within the dragon. Drogon was angry and afraid. The anger was expected, but the fear was something Jon never imagined this particular dragon to feel.

"It's alright," Jon assured the three dragons. "It's alright. Daenerys is alright. Our children… your brothers are alright. We're safe now." Jon needed to calm the dragons down as best he could, so he did what he would for Ygris and Lyarras.

"Though the winds of winter blow

They will never scare the crow

Never shall we knock Death's door

For the lands above we'll soar

When the King came striking down

Our steel did break his crown

His touch turned all to ice

In the snows was his demise

And then the skies did fill with light

Our brothers have won the fight

The fires of the dawn had come

And the colds of winter undone

Then the one who was lost shall win

And the greatest of ages shall begin

When all finds peace in the end

The world forever we'll defend

The wolves will howl and the dragons cry

Through fire and ice together we'll fly."

The anger and fear died from Drogon. His growling became a heavy purr of sorts. Even though his eyes were intimidating to look at, there was peace within them. He backed away and turned from Jon, taking a great many leaps before spreading his wings and taking to the skies alone.

Rhaegal and Lyarras remained with Jon. He reached out his bares hands and stroked the muzzles of their heads. "I'm sorry for all this. It's my fault for thinking something like this wouldn't happen. I guess I expected too much from someone." He looked at Rhaegal deep in the eyes. "I think it's time you had your share of the fight," Rhaegal growled out before lowering his body for him to climb on. Stepping lightly until he was positioned and had a firm grip, Jon braced himself for flight. "Valahd."

Rhaegal screeched out and began to jump forward, spreading his wings and flapping clouds of snow before taking flight. Lyarras followed after them closely. The dragons sored low to the ground at first, flight just a giant's height above the camps before climbing higher into the sky.

Jon caught sight of Bran's ravens and Rhaegal sensed his intentions. He no longer had to warg into his dragon to fly, he finally had an understanding of the bond he shared with Rhaegal.

On a horse, twenty miles would have been an hours ride, but on a dragon, it was mere moments.

Jon spotted a riding party of thirty men going over a hill on the Kingsroad. They took notice of Rhaegal and Lyarras and split up, but it wouldn't do them much good. The flock of ravens split into four groups and followed four of the riders, the four that had the swords. Lyarras split off from Rhaegal and pursued the other horsemen.

Jon began thinking of ways to defeat the riders and get the blades back, but instead, he decided otherwise. "Better in no hands than the wrongs hands." He tightened his grip on Rhaegal as he began diving closer to two of the riders. "Dracarys!" Rhaegal unleashed his fire down onto the riders. The sounds of the men screaming were as loud as the horses whining as they were roasted alive. Rhaegal continued his stream of flames as he circled the ground. Doing this, he created a wall that steered another group from escaping.

Lyarras, on the other hand, dove low to the ground and snatched a rider off his horse with her mouth, ripping through his armor and clothes, devouring him. Her presence frightened some of the other horses into grouping together, making them easy targets as she breathed fire on them.

With the power and speed of the dragons, the riders nor their horses had any chance of escape. It wasn't long until the hills were littered with dying dragonfire, snow blacked by ash and soot, and charred corpses of men and horses.

Rhaegal and Lyarras landed in the middle of the massacre, but Jon did not dismount. Looking at it all only made him angry. Even if these men were not pursued by dragons, the Dothraki would have caught up to them. They had no chance and still, they tried, all for some swords.

Jon's fists clenched hard at his side. Seeing it all made him feel dishonorable in a way. Fighting the dead and the Night King, he never realized how easy it was for the dragons to kill, and he had two at his command. It went against what his father taught him.

'The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.'

Could a dragon's fire be counted as a sword if he was the one commanding it?

Looking around, Jon could see what remained of the Valyrian Steel swords and it wasn't much. The dragonfire cooked the metal to the point of melting and the scorched ground had hardened puddles of steel. They might be salvageable, but he wouldn't be able to do anything about it right now. "Let's go home."

The flight back to Winterfell was faster than it took to get to the hills. Rhaegal and Lyarras remained in their nest, but Drogon kept flying in the skies around the castle. Jon informed Gendry of the fate of the swords and later planned to have what remained retrieved and salvaged if possible.

Needing some time alone to think, and some time to clean his sword of the blood still staining the blade from the attack, Jon took to the godswood again. Bran was gone when he came back. It was just him.

Sitting at the foot of the weirwood, Jon ran a cloth down the blade, cleaning what little blade remained, his gaze went deep inside the black ripples of the steel. His thoughts drifted to when he fought with it for the first time. Throughout the battle, he could feel something about the sword, something powerful that both entranced and scared him. The way the blade moved in his hands was a beautiful thing. It did everything he wanted it to do.

"For a moment I thought you father's ghost," Arya said as she approached him.

"He always seemed so calm when he polished Ice here. Though I might give it a try."

Arya sat down next to him. "You don't seem calm though. You seem sad."

"I'm not sad… I just tired of all this. How many more have to die for someone else's stupid desires?"

"If you're tired, then maybe you should write to Cersei and agree to her demands," Arya said bluntly. She didn't mean it, of course, only to prove a point she was about to make. "Men fight for others because they believe in them. The cunts who attacked us today believe that Cersei isn't the Mad Queen she is, but everyone else who fights for you believes that your the one to lead them against her, to free the country from shit like her. Are you going to betray their hopes in you?"

Jon shook his head. "Never." He set the cloth aside and inspected the clean blade.

"Have you thought of a name yet?"

"No, I haven't really had any names come to mind lately."

"How about something like Dragonclaw or Winterfyre? Give it a part of what the swords that made it were called."

Jon thought about it, but this sword was something else entirely. But his mind lingered on the use of Winter. But that wasn't the entirety. A sword born in the longest winter since the Long Night. Jon took hold of the handle with his bare hand and felt a resonance in the sword. He felt he could hear something from the blade through the touch of his skin, he felt he could be the metal singing.

"It's called Wintersong."

"Wintersong? A menacing sword like that?" Arya shrugged her shoulders. "Could've been worse, but now that I say it, it fits. Wintersong."

Jon got up to his feet and sheathed the sword back into the scabbard before tying the belt back on.

"Come on, I haven't seen your babes yet and I want you to introduce me to them."

Jon smiled, but it died quickly as Arya took several steps away.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Arya, I need you to meet me in the crypts tonight, at father's tomb, and I also need you to bring the Hound."

"What for?"

"I can't tell you yet. We may be alone, but that won't stop words from being heard by unwanted ears. Trust me, please."

"I do." Arya nodded.

Back in the Lord's Chambers, Jon sat at Daenerys side while she slept. He watched as Arya and Sansa would take turns holding Matthias. Aemon remained asleep but earned the attention of Ashara Dayne. Both of his children were dressed in the clothes Sansa made for them.

Tyrion and Ser Davos took their leave to help prepare for the meeting and would await Jon's arrival when it was to begin.

Jon held Daenerys hand in his as she slept, the feeling of her skin calmed him down. Aemon began to fuss as he began to wake. Jon left the presence of his wife and took his son into his arms, rocking him until he quieted down.

As he sat back down, Jon failed to notice a hand reaching out to Aemon. Daenerys woke up just as they did.

Jon smiled as she did. "Feeling better?"

"Very much so." Daenerys sat herself up and leaned into Jon to look at their son. Aemon's silver hair began to show more, catching the light and reflecting it constantly. His eyes were pale blue of a morning sky, but they could change into Jon's brown or Daenerys's violet color after a few moons have passed.

There was knock on the door that caught everyone's attention before in stepped one of the Winterfell guard. "Apologies, your grace, but the meeting is about to begin."

"Aye, thank you."

"Meeting? What meeting?" Daenerys asked.

Jon handed Aemon to his mother and she began to rock him in her arms. "It's time for this war to come to end, the sooner the better. I'll be back."

"Please be quick."

"I will. I promise." Jon gave his wife a deepened kiss before he left with Rickon, Arya, and Sansa.

The light of day was waning as they left the castle to the camps. The three of them were under the protection of a dozen Unsullied and just as many Northmen. But the meeting hall had more protection than ever before. Eight of the giants stood watch with large clubs in their hands and lined up in between each of them were twenty Unsullied at attention. Inside was just as secure. Unsullied stood guard at the front of the seating for the Lords in attendance while Dothraki and Northerners stood guard over Jon and the Starks.

All the Lords except for those from the Westerlands, save for Ser Jaime, were seated inside. Many of them conversing with the one another. There were some who were absent from the meeting, either dead or too injured to come. The Dornish and Northerners were especially riled.

Lord Tyrion and Ser Davos were already seated at the High Table but arose when Jon and the Starks.

Jon took his seat with Tyrion at his Right and Ser Davos at his left facing all of the Lords. Bran had arrived before they did and was seated with Rickon.

"Nice of you to join us." Ser Davos commented.

"Anything to report?"

"Aye. Some of the bodies that were found were identified as bannermen of Houses Marbrand, Spicer, Lorch, Clegane, Lannister, and a dozen knights. But given that The Hound and Ser Jaime fought against them, I think it's safe to assume that these men were acting under someone else's orders."

"Unfortunately," Tyrion said, "any evidence of whom could not be found."

"I already have a plan for that." Jon waited for everyone to quiet down before he stood up from his seat and spoke. "Today, we have suffered from a great treachery inflicted on us all. Though a truce was made, Cersei Lannister saw fit to break by ordering many of those still loyal to her to attack and sabotage and thieve. But in those darkened hours, their lights of courage, loyalty, and selflessness. Lady Brienne, Podrick Payne, step forward."

Both Brienne and Podrick looked confused as to why Jon would call them, but answered accordingly and stood before Jon and the Lords of the realm.

"The two of you have shown valor and bravery in a most crucial time. You protected the innocent against conspirators and traitors. You have both shown me more than enough to be what the realm truly needs. Draw your swords and kneel."

Brienne bent the knee as she drew Oathkeeper and rested the tip into the floor as Podrick did the same with his sword.

"Brienne of House Tarth, Podrick of House Payne, do you swear before the eyes of gods and men to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to protect all women and children, to obey your captains, your liege lord, and your king, to fight bravely when needed and do such other tasks as are laid upon you, however hard or humble or dangerous they may be?"

"Until my death, I swear it," Brienne said.

"Until my death, I swear it," Podrick repeated.

"Then on this night, I bestow upon you the titles of knights of Westeros."

Both Brienne and Podrick did their best to contain their joy to themselves. Podrick failed to hide a smile but Brienne remained composed but proud.

"You may be seated." The two knights sheathed their swords and took their seats, many who surrounded them cheered and congratulated them.

"Your grace," one of the lords called out as he stood up.

"I'm afraid I don't know you," Jon admitted.

"My name is Ser Baelor Hightower, Lord of Oldtown. My Father fought and died against the dead." One of many fathers' who did. "While we were in more ways triumphant, there was still a loss. It has become known to us that Lady Melessa was murdered during the attack. And with her Death, House Tarly has no heir and the Reach no Lord or Lady Paramount. I have taken the liberty of conversing-"

"Forgive my interruption, my lord, but there's still a Son of House Tarly. He sits right there." Jon pointed directly at Sam. "The firstborn of Randyll Tarly and rightful heir to Hornhill."

"Your grace, Samwell Tarly forfeited his claims when he chose to take the black. His own father disowned him. 'He will never be worthy of the red hunter' I believe the words were."

"Who determines that worth? His father? You?" There was a still silence. "Of all the time I've known Samwell Tarly, he has proven to be a better man than most who sit in this room. And his worth? Sam was the first man in thousands of years to kill a White Walker, he has the qualities of a true knight and has served under the Night's Watch faithfully and loyally. The Night King and his army are defeated. I and Lord Commander Eddison Tollett have released Sam of his vows, given that he has more than fulfilled them." Jon looked back at Sam. "But I will leave the choice to him."

All eyes turned to Sam as he stood up nervously. He cleared his throat and stood straight. "House Tarly is not dead yet, and I will not shame my family's name like my father thought I would. I am Lord of Hornhill now, and I will lead my men to battle when called upon by the King. And I swear this to all of you, the Red Hunter of House Tarly will be seen at King's Landing to fight and win against the Mad Queen's army."

There was an uproar of cheers for Sam. He wore a face of determination, but Jon knew him long enough to tell that he was nervous. Sam and Baelor Hightower sat down when things quieted down.

"Ser Jaime, come forward." Jaime Lannister looked more nervous at this. He sat himself away from everyone as much as he could. Many eyes were filled with hate towards him, either for being the leading commander of those who attacked or just for his family's name, maybe even both. He presented himself before Jon.

"You above all have my thanks today. You defended the Queen and my children at the willingness to give your life for them. You are a different man than when you first came here, a man I would gladly stand beside in war. From this day, until your last day, I hereby strip you of titles as Oathbreaker, Man without Honor, and Kingslayer. You are Ser Jaime Lannister, the Lord of Casterly Rock and the Westerlands and Warden of the West."

Ser Jaime was shocked and also relieved, but not in the sense that something bad was going to befall him, but relieved of a weight on his shoulder. For more than half his life, he was shamed by all for betraying his vows to do the right thing.

"Your grace, I… thank you for this." Some of the hateful looks disappeared, but only some.

Jon could feel Tyrion looking directly at him and caught a glimpse of him through the corner of his eye. Tyrion was just as surprised and just as grateful for this.

"I believe that men earn what they work for, and you have worked greatly for this. But now, I would ask that you stand beside me and judge those who not only betrayed a truce but betrayed their rightful lord." Jon nodded to one of the Unsullied awaiting his signal and it wasn't long after that the Lords of the Westerlands and some of their generals were escorted inside and brought before everyone. All of them were disarmed and disrobed of any armor.

Many of those who suffered loss this day shouted out insults to them.

"Oathbreakers!"

"Traitors!"

"Mad servants!"

Most of the Westerlands lords were angry while others looked afraid. Jon stood from his seat and walked in front of the accused, silencing the crowd. "Some of you played a part in today's treachery, some of you didn't. What I do know is that those who were responsible were following the orders of your queen. So I will extend this offer once, in the name of mercy. Any who admit their guilt may bend the knee and serve House Targaryen or will be honored by the truce and allowed to return home with their armies or join with Cersei, but in doing so they will be branding themselves as traitors and oathbreakers to their rightful liege lord, Ser Jaime. Any who do not admit their guilt at that time will be executed immediately when found discovered. Now make your choices."

Many of the lords looked at each other, unsure of who was going to take the offer. Surely enough, six men stepped forward, but only Raynard Ruttiger and Arthor Payne bent the knee to Jon.

"Your grace," Arthor Payne, an elderly man with a patch of white hair on his head spoke, "I only acted out of fear for my family and my House."

Jon eyed the other lords. "Anyone else?" When no one else stepped forward to admit their guilt, Jon nodded and the six men were taken aside by the Unsullied. "Then your chance for mercy is gone." Jon looked back at Bran and nodded.

"Rolph Spicer," Bran spoke, "Lorent Lorch, Addam Marbrand, Tytos Prester," he continued on to name several others, all of whom were shocked and taken off guard when they heard their names. When Bran finished, the Unsullied forced the named individuals to the knees and those that were not were allowed to be seated.

"This is ridiculous!" Lorent Lorch shouted. "You have no proof!"

"A brother who can see everything at any time is all the proof he needs," Ser Jaime Lannister retorted to his bannerman.

"Daven Lannister," Jon called, not forgetting who's men committed theft. Two of the Unsullied grabbed ahold of a man with a great long long golden beard and long golden hair. He looked well into his years until he was looked at up close. "You stand accused of conspiracy and involvement in the theft of Valyrian Steel rightfully belonging to Gendry Baratheon. How do you plea?"

Before the Lord said anything, Jon caught a look that passed between the Lannister brothers. He couldn't discern what it was until a confident look crossed Jaime's face. Then, Daven merely shrugged. "Not guilty."

Jon looked back at Bran and was surprised at the response. "His men stole them, but he didn't order them. In fact, Cersei had no idea about the Valyrian steel. Those men stole them of their own decision."

At that, Jon could hear the breath that Jaime exhaled. Obviously, he really hadn't been that sure of the truth. Now, however, he looked back at Devan, as the man explained further. "If you expected me to ally with a mad bitch like her, then I'm not surprised actually. But no, fuck her. I may be a Lannister, but I have common sense. And she killed my sister when she destroyed the Great Sept of Baelor. If my men decided to change their loyalties, say the word and I'll kill them all myself."

Jon was surprised as were a great many. "I didn't expect this if I'm being honest."

"I'm a practical man, your grace. But don't get me wrong. If Lord Tywin was still alive and commanded this, I would follow his orders because I respected him and had not a single doubt about what he did. But he's dead, and a rabid lioness now sits on the Iron Throne. I imagine that the longer she does, the sooner all of our deaths will come if we don't stand together." He honest at least.

"You would forsake fealty to her and pledge for me?"

Daven almost laughed out loud. "Promises from Cersei are like promises from a captain telling you his ship is the mightiest vessel to sail on the fourteen seas when it's already sunk in water." That jape got a rise out of a great many laughs from those who watched.

Jon studied the golden-haired man for any trace of doubt from him. "I will not punish for the actions of your men, but you are at fault for them getting out of hand. You may take a seat with the other lords."

Devan bowed politely with a grin before being escorted away.

Jon looked over to one of his guards. "Fetch a block and basket for the heads."

"This is unjust!" Lorent Lorch spat. "A cripple simply saying so does prove that we were involved!"

One of the men broke into a sprint for the door, managing to get past the Unsullied. But the moment he set foot outside, a giant's hand reached down and grabbed him off the ground. There was a loud scream but it was ended suddenly by a loud splat. The body was tossed back into the hall but the top half was like a sack of loose meat.

Some of the lords and ladies watching covered their mouths to contain their vomit while the rest of the guilty began begging for mercy.

Jon ignored their rabbles and began to draw his sword, but Jaime stopped him.

"Your grace, with all due respect, these are my men, my responsibility."

"Ser Jaime, if I pass the sentence, then I must be the one to carry it out. That is the old way, that is my way."

"I know, but I am just as much fault for today's treason happening. My father once taught me that if a soldier lacks discipline then the fault lies in his commander. Say what you will about him, but the authority he had over his army was greatest in the world. If it pleases you, I shall sentence them and swing the sword myself." There was a glint in Jaime's eyes now, something of the man who had come to Winterfell all those years ago. "That is how you do it up here, the one who passes the sentence, will execute it? In honor of your way and the way of your family and the way of your lands."

Jon looked at him curiously. He was not wrong when he said that Ser Jaime wasn't the same. He nodded and stepped back, allowing Ser Jaime to take charge and responsibility.

Ser Jaime drew Widow's Wail and rested the tip on the floor and his good hand on the pommel. He looked back to Jon. "Which name shall I use for the sentencing, Jon or Aegon?" Jon would have once taken the question as a sneer, but there was genuine sincerity when he asked it.

Jon never thought about this until then, but how would he be addressed as King in court and dealings of the realm. He didn't care personally, but he knew that it did matter. Should he continue on as Jon, former Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and King in the North, or as Aegon, King of Westeros and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms?

'Kill the boy, Jon Snow. Kill the boy, and let the man be born.'

"Aegon."

Ser Jaime nodded and faced those who betrayed the trust of many this day. "In the name of Aegon of the House Targaryen, the Sixth of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realms, I Ser Jaime of the House Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West, sentence you all to die."

Ser Jaime stayed true to his word and took the heads of every man who betrayed the truce. The swing of his sword was a strange kind each execution. His leaned forward and forced his body low, but doing that gave him the momentum and force he needed to take heads in one

swing without the use of his right hand.

The blood that spilled stained the floor, but was cleaned accordingly and the bodies were taken away.

After it was over, Jon let the hallway disperse and remained with his family inside. "Sansa, Rickon, the two of you will be staying here in Winterfell to oversee the North. Our food stores are nothing but ash, I need you two to help replenish them and help keep order while we're gone. Bran, I need you to come with us. We'll need your abilities to form a battle strategy and root out any unwanted ears." Bran nodded in acceptance. "I'll also be leaving five hundred men here, in case Cersei tries to send an attack while we're gone."

"What about me?" Arya asked.

"I told you, later tonight-" there was a sudden commotion outside that caught everyone's attention.

Jon and Arya rushed outside as fast as they could and already found the Unsullied handling things. Ser Jaime was lying in the snow with a cut across his arm. It wasn't deep and bled lightly. Across from him, pinned down on the ground by Ser Bronn was Tyene Sand with a dagger. The Unsullied surrounded all three of them with their spears pointed down.

Tyene was struggling to be free of Bronn's grip and shouting out. "Let me kill him! Let me avenge my sisters!"

Jon didn't know much about Tyene or the Sand Snakes, but he was told that the girls that were killed and brought into the castle were Tyene's full blooded sisters.

Bronn slapped her hard across the face. "Listen here, I saved you because I like fuckin' you. But until I'm eating and fuckin in my own castle, you don't get kill him. His sister doesn't get to kill him. Only I get to kill him."

Jon stepped into the fray and all eyes were on him. He looked to some of the Unsullied. "Take her to a cell and clasp her in irons." The Unsullied seize Tyene from Bronn and disarmed her of three other blades she had hiding in her clothes.

Before they left, however, the sellsword grabbed at a necklace the young assassin and his would-be lover wore, yanking it away from her throat. He nodded his head and she was led away.

"Best take a slug of this, my lord. The nick won't kill ya' but I'd bet all the gold you owe that the blade was poisoned," he said.

Jaime didn't hesitate to drink what Bronn gave him. "Well, there goes your highborn beauty, bastard though she was," Jaime commented.

Bronn merely shrugged. "No doubt that's she's probably as good as dead now. But luckily for me, you owe me again for savin' your rich arse." Bronn patter Jaime on the shoulder and walked away.

Jon approached Ser Jaime while keeping his gaze on Bronn. "I've met murders and rapists at the Wall with more decency for life than him."

"I think he enjoys that about himself. I know it is what my brother does," Jaime told him. Then he smirked. "But don't fall for the entire act. Under the greed, cynicism and bawdy sense of humor, there is a sliver of honor to the man."

Jon shook his head and looked at the wound Jaime took. "Get that patched up, and then later tonight I need to speak with you in private. You and Brienne."

Ser Jaime looked confused. "What for?"

"I'll tell tonight, in the crypts at my father's tomb."

Jaime visibly shuddered. Ned Stark still had that effect on him, even with the blemish on his honor removed. "Not the first place I would want to meet but definitely not the last." Jaime nodded and took his leave to find a maester.

Jon returned to the Lord's chamber. Daenerys was with Missandei and each of them had one of the babes in their arms. Both of the babes were asleep, breathing softly.

"I'm glad you're back," Daenerys admitted. "I hope there isn't anything else to take you away from your children tonight."

"Unfortunately, just one more thing tonight. And then tomorrow, I need to handle a would-be assassin."

"Someone tried to kill you?" Shock and worry present in her voice.

"Not me, Ser Jaime. Tyene Sand wanted vengeance for her murdered sisters. I almost don't blame her for trying. They were all just children." Jon felt his fists tighten as he sat next to her on the bed.

"After that, we need to prepare to march for the capital."

"It will take at least a fortnight."

"No, I want us marching in six days."

"Six days?"

"The sooner this war over, the sooner I can feel safe living. As long as Cersei is alive, I have to worry that a dagger is coming for your throat and our children's. If that were to happen… I won't let it." He felt a hand take his.

"I am your Queen, Jon. I can take care of Tyene Sand with Tyrion while you prepare for the war. But you need time with your sons. Have you even looked for the tiny differences between them besides the obvious ones?"

"No," Jon chuckled, "I have not."

"Aemon has a slightly bigger nose than Matthias, but smaller ears. And Matthias tends to be quieter than his brother." She smiled down at Aemon in her arms, rocking him gently.

Missandei stood up and passed Matthias to Jon. "Shall I excuse myself, your grace?" she asked.

"You may. Have a good night my friend," Daenerys told her. Missandei smiled at the both of them and left.

Jon wished he could spend the rest of his life at this moment with just them, but as the night darkened and the moon began to rise, he had one last thing to take care of.

Within the crypts, Jon gazed up at the statue of his mother, the only image he had to know what she looked like. He memorized every part of her he could, regardless of how accurate it was.

'Am I the man you hoped I would become? Am I what you and Rhaegar hoped for?' He reached his hand out and felt the stone cheek of the statue, hoping it would give him some comfort, but it didn't. It only made him long for a moment with her, just one so he could see her in person.

Jon heard the sounds of footsteps approaching and left his mother's tomb and stood by his uncle's, though he would always regard Ned Stark as his father.

Ser Jaime and Lady Brienne came into the light of Jon's torch. Close behind them was Arya and Sandor Clegane.

"Your grace," Brienne said with a bow.

"Thank you all for coming," Jon told them. "This war with Cersei has become too much. She's beyond madness, whatever that is. Regardless, it can't go on. As long the wildfire is under King's Landing, I can't march our armies to fight the sellswords, not while Cersei can give the order to have it ignited. The only way I see that we can win the war and save the city is if we kill Cersei before we make the attack."

The only one who looked surprised by this was the Hound, but at the same time, he expected it. "And since you're telling us, it means we're the ones you sending off to do it."

"I wouldn't ask any of you to do something I'm not willing. And I thought you wanted to settle the score with your brother."

Sandor shook his head. "I was hoping it would be on the battlefield. Fine, what's your plan."

"You, Arya, and Brienne will accompany me to Red Keep while Ser Jaime will lead the armies to King's Landing."

"No." Jaime stated definitively, "I cannot be the one leading the army."

Jon was going to protest when Ser Jaime went on. "I know what you are thinking. This is not the honorable move, to sneak into the city and assassinate a queen, but you are willing to do it yourself, sully your precious Stark honor." Jon's face must have given up his thoughts, because next, the knight said, "It is not a king's job to do it. And you are a king. Besides, it won't work. You're expecting them to honor things like rules and codes just like Ned Stark did before he unexpectedly was sentenced to death. If you try to kill Cersei, you'll no doubt raise alarms. And if you kill her or not, you will get captured and you would be the perfect hostage against those who've bent the knee to you."

"If we can kill your sister before you arrive, then there will be no need for a battle. The sellswords will have lost their contractor and will have no choice but to surrender."

"So we do it when our armies arrive," Arya suggested. "Empty the city of everything Cersei can through at us and then make the kill."

"That'll work," Jaime agreed, "but not if he is there." He pointed at Jon. "If Cersei is told that the King is not at the head of his own army, she'll suspect something." There was a bitter silence. "I'll go instead of you."

"Ser Jaime," Brienne said, "I don't think that is wise."

"It's wiser than you think. I know of passageways hidden in the walls of the Red Keep. I used to use them to meet with Cersei. We can sneak through and while everyone is focused on the dragons and the Dothraki and soldiers of Westeros…" He paused in his words, almost ashamed to say what was next. "... we kill her."

"It's not right unless I'm the one to do it." Jon objected.

"Yes, yes. As we've established tonight, the one who passes the sentence and so forth. I respect the traditions of my king and North, but Cersei isn't in, nor of, the North." He looked to the ground now, as he came to a grim conclusion. "She is my sister. I will see the job done."

"I doubt you will," Arya argued. "So if you don't I will. I have more right to kill her than any of you. She was one of the first names on my list. But if Jon wishes it to be done your way then I will honor that."

All eyes fell onto Jon, waiting for his say. He took a deep breath to prepare himself for his orders. "Then I charge you all with bringing justice to the false Queen, Cersei Lannister, under the command of Ser Jaime Lannister."