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Thank you all so much for your reviews - they really inspired me to write this for all of you quickly, and a big welcome to the new follows and favorites - I hope you enjoy the adventure! Welcome to chapter 50! Freaking crazy how far this fic has come. Thank you all for your support - it's been a real treat and a light in my life during these uncertain times. :)

This chapter came really quickly - genuinely, I wrote this in record time and i don't even know what made me write it so fast lol I think I was just excited for you all to see them finally arrive in Westeros and the long-awaited scheme finally be thought out. Because this chapter came so quickly the next one might be slower than usual but know I'll still have it out within the next two weeks - and give more people time to read lol I'm excited to see what you think so I hope you enjoy :)

Jon

They had been traveling for more than a month now, and Jon was getting antsy about landing in the North. Mainly because he wanted his wife to be somewhere other than the sea while she was seven moons pregnant.

It wasn't that he hated sailing or that she was getting sick, but every single second they were on the water, it was a risk. If he really thought about it, she was nearly eight moons now, since they had been held up by bad weather for a week.

And it was amazing that even though she was that far along, and her stomach had gotten a little larger, she was still just as beautiful.

Jon shakes his head as he leans over the banister, the cold Northern air blowing on his face as they sailed. It was strange how where he had first begun his journey down to Daenerys was where they were going right now. A part of him wondered what Tormund and the other wildlings would think.

He knew for a fact the man had no clue what Jon had done in the years he had met. He had only known they were going to travel South – to find some purpose. And by the gods, did they. Tormund would most likely shit his pants once he saw exactly what they had now. And Dan had grown so much at this point.

This would be the first time he met Daemon, and the other three children, while adopted. He would see all these dragons and their men – a whole army. Dothraki, Unsullied…it was ridiculous. He didn't even know how to properly assess what had happened. And this was all over a short time span. Well, short compared to other parts of his life.

"Brooding again?" he hears from behind him. Jon turns to see the dwarf coming forward, Tyrion glancing at the high escapades of snow in the distance.

"So funny," Jon mutters before looking ahead. "Not brooding. Just thinking back…memories. Everything was set into motion the moment I arrived at the wall, and then took back Winterfell…I sat behind the wall for years, trying to find some sort of worth, by being Dan's father. Little did I know what would come later. And now here we are, finally coming back to the spot it all began."

Tyrion hmms as he comes to the other side of him, glancing up. "The wall doesn't even exist anymore, does it? The Night's Watch?"

Jon shakes his head. "No. No, it really doesn't." He chuckles a little and glances down at him. "Sending me off to the wall was probably one of the dumbest decisions that I've ever heard of. I know that Arya's told me Sansa wanted to stay connected somehow but I didn't want to speak to her. Hell, I didn't want to speak to anyone. I only wanted to go off for the rest of my days and sulk into the darkness. And yet I still stand. No…the day we arrived, all of us got up and left to go North. Didn't come back until we felt the need to."

Tyrion nods. "And when did you feel the need? When did all of this happen?"

"Well…Dan started to have visions, or dreams of a boy that looked like her but with my hair, and their mother's eyes. It was a darker version of everything, but I'm starting to believe that the dream was a vision of sorts – a combination of events that happened in the future. The lava burning in Valyria, the ground shaking, us living in the pyramid…it was just a way of us showing what would happen. But Dan felt the need to explore that. So, we did, for the sake of her. We didn't know we would find them there, it just kind of…happened. And I'm thankful it did."

The two of them were silent for a minute, letting the soft sounds of the sea drag over them. Tyrion speaks up over the wind. "Do you really think Sansa will let you all in? Genuinely?"

Jon bites his lip before turning to look at the imp. "I…think so. Arya has told me so many times that she wanted to make amends. The reason why they agreed for me to be sent to the wall was that she wanted to see me again…with Daenerys, I don't know. I'm going to have to talk to her about it. The children, too…but if she wants me, she has to take all of them. She isn't actively planning with Bran, is she?"

"I don't believe so," Tyrion responds. "Remember, the North is independent. Has been for some time. They don't need to know about any wars Bran is planning…although I am also compliant to tell you that she was in favor of ending this as quickly as possible once they had heard of your ascent in Valyrian royalty, and what you were doing to the West of Essos."

Jon raises an eyebrow. "End it 'quickly?'"

"She…was in favor of any way of ending the conflict…meaning death or otherwise."

Jon runs his hands through his hair. "Seven hells…am I going to have to cook Dany's food because I'm afraid she'll get poisoned?"

"I wouldn't go that far. Sansa still recognizes the alliance she could have if aligned with you, even if it's with Daenerys…but I'd say to go in with cautious optimism. The North is in need of aid, even if she's too stubborn to admit it. I have a feeling she'll be perfectly alright with talking with you as long as there's no-"

Suddenly, loud bursts of fire emerge from them as most of the dragons begin to take flight, the broken-down wall now in their sighs. Drogon flies behind all of the smaller ones, letting out a mighty roar. Tyrion cringes before looking at Jon.

"Yeah, that. None of that. She's not going to like that."

Jon snorts and shakes his head, before looking down at Tyrion. "Aren't you two…still technically married?"

Tyrion shakes his head. "Sansa and I never consummated the marriage, so in the eyes of the gods, no, we aren't." The dwarf sighs and glances at the ground. "She didn't use to be like this."

"You clearly didn't grow up with her," Jon mutters.

"I mean it," Tyrion repeats, looking up at him once more. "Yes, I know she was cruel to you because of Catelyn. I know that you two never got along until you were older, but when she was younger, all she wanted was to be queen. To have a prince that would love her, and to be someone who people would look up to instead of freezing in the North. Life changed her. Life changed her for the worse. She was manipulated by my sister – really every Lannister besides myself – groomed and prayed on by Petyr Baelish, and sold to the Ramsey where you and I both know what she went through. Life has made her tough…made her stubborn. Made her own mind manipulative because of what's happened. I only wish there was a way to change her back, to the poor sweet girl that had only wanted lemon cakes and jewelry."

Jon nibbles on the inside of his lip before glancing down at Tyrion again from the waves. "That's a sweet story, Tyrion. Very sweet. But that still doesn't excuse what she did." Tyrion sighs at his words as he continues. "Daenerys herself went through hell and back to get to where she is now. She's been raped and defiled and hurt so many times, and yet she has still come out with her head held high. Life is shit. We know that. But that doesn't give anyone an excuse to turn into what they hated most. That makes them no better…I know she's not actively planning against my family, but I can never trust her again…that's why we have to do this."

"I understand why," Tyrion says quietly. "I'm not going to blame you for that. I just wanted to say we have all gone through life's struggles…she's just made the wrong choices."

Jon lets out a soft sigh as he sees Drogon fly above the clouds, before swiping back down. "Tyrion…how many people in Westeros know of Valyria's existence?"

Tyrion was quiet for a moment before he glances back at the king again. "I'm not entirely sure. When Davos and I had left, we had only known because you had just taken Slaver's Bay again…for all I know, many more people could be made aware of your kingdom now."

Jon nods. "I'm not wondering for the sake of the Northerners…if they're ready for something like that. I don't know." He glances over as he sees Greyworm started to prepare the men to disembark, speaking fast Valyrian. "How's he been treating you since on this boat?"

"Yes, not well," Tyrion mutters, shrugging his shoulders. "I expected it. I don't believe anyone to treat me with respect, especially him. My whole life has been treated with insults, so nothing new there. However…for you, that has been an adventure."

Jon rolls his eyes at the statement. Indeed, it had been. Every single time he and Greyworm had an interaction regarding the war or protocols for when they arrived at Winterfell, it would always be tense. He knew he wanted to command just as much as anyone else, but Jon was still the proprietary leader in defense. He called the final shots. And to Greyworm, that was insanely hard to believe. But he was trying to for Daenerys.

Ah, his sweet wife. The things he did for love, putting up with this nādrēsy.

"It's fine," Jon responds, glancing back at the dwarf. "He respects me as a king, and that's all I can ask. At least he's not going up against me in meetings…yet." He sighs as Taevar finally emerges from the cabins down below, the snow above them beginning to come down. He glances up in surprise, staring at the surroundings.

"By the gods," the man mutters. "So this is snow?"

"You truly have never seen any?" Jon asks.

"Nope…remember, we were trapped in Valyria our whole lives. This is new." He pulls furs around his body, trying to shield the cold. "Fucking freezing here, though." He looks at Jon. "Are we almost at Eastwatch? Is that it by the torn-up piece of wall over there?"

Jon nods, following Taevar's gaze. They still hadn't repaired the wall at all after Viserion's attack on it years ago. It was more of a relic of the old world now, something few people passed by to see. The deserted castle sat below. "That is it. Tormund and most of the wildlings should be inside as I instructed him in the letter. The only raven we had that could make this far North."

"Where are we going to keep all of our men?"

"The wildling camp has plenty of spots that they can set up their places in," Jon explains. "There are whole settlements there with people who have tons of food and water, as well as open land where the dragons can go. The dragons also give off heat, so we can set up camps around there so people can stay warm. But I would suggest keeping the warm furs as much as possible. It's going to be cold the whole time we're here."

"And what of the Dothraki and Unsullied?"

"Again, there's plenty of spots open for them," Jon continues. "I've known that the Dothraki like to settle in an open field, which is completely fine. I wouldn't expect any less. The Unsullied, I'm not so sure. They'll most likely have camps but they're more guards than anything in this situation since we aren't fighting yet. We'll have some stationed to protect the dragons, just in case anything happens."

Taevar nods. "Seems you have this down."

"There have been many meetings on this boat ride. I want it to be over with," Jon mutters as he looks over to where Greyworm was. The soldier glances up at him and then nods to two other Unsullied before marching to where the three men stood.

He had a tray in his hands. He bows to Taevar and Jon, not even acknowledging Tyrion. But it sounded about right. "King's hand, my king…the handmaiden to the queen has reportedly told me that the queen was sick last night, is this correct?"

Jon sighs and nods. "That is true…I think the water was starting to get to her."

"Ah, so that's why you're awake," Tyrion states. "Thought you got up just to brood."

"Shut it," Jon warns before looking at Greyworm. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes. Eleana came to inform me before that the food you requested cooked for the queen is finished and she would like you to pick it up for her." He hands him the tray – a little aggressively – but placed it into his hands. "The handmaiden is waking up the children and getting them ready for our debarkation."

Jon nods to him. "Thank you. You're dismissed."

Greyworm gives a stiff nod to him before heading off. Once he was back with the Unsullied, heading towards the brig of the ship, Taevar whistles, chuckling.

"Good gods, do you have a history with that man."

Jon rolls his eyes. "And now you, shut it." He turns to him and Tyrion. "Taevar, get the rest of the ship ready for when we land. It shouldn't be too long now. Tyrion-"

"I know, don't stand there and fuck up," Tyrion mutters.

"No," Jon states, shaking his head. "I actually want you to do something," Tyrion raises an eyebrow at him in surprise. "I know, you're surprised to see we need you, but in reality, you've been nothing short of helpful this trip with the sea routes. Because of you and the red priests, it's been relatively safe besides the storms. We want to thank you for that. That's why I need you to go to our solar and grab every letter we have. And most importantly – the one from Sam."

"Ah," Tyrion mumbles. "Have you…given your word to that yet?"

"No," Jon sighs. "I haven't. I still don't know whether to trust it or not. I'm going to have Dan use her sight to see into the letter…make sure it's not a repeat of Qarth. But can you do that for me? Grab all the letters and meet us down near the ramp when we get off. We're going to need those war plans before we head down to Winterfell."

"Of course, your grace," Tyrion responds, bowing his head.

Jon nods, happy that the man was willing to do what he needed. Tyrion had been of good help recently regarding where they had to go. He might as well help me out a little bit and give him something to do.

He quickly heads towards the cabins once more, tray in hands, going to see his wife. Hopefully for the last time on this bloody ship.

When he walks in, the tray is full of food and sunlight is beaming into the cabin. But Daenerys was still gently asleep on the bed, her eyes closed peacefully.

She had woken up in the middle of the night, getting sick over their chamber pot, him holding her hair out so that she wouldn't get it all messy. Afterward, he had held her until she went to sleep, cuddled deep into his arms. They didn't talk about what had happened out of pure exhaustion. Maybe now she would.

He walks over to the edge of the bed and gently places the tray down, looking at his sleeping wife. She was breathing slowly, eyes twitching underneath her eyelids as if caught in some dream, one hand behind her head while the other was resting on top of her bump. Jon feels himself smile a little before softly bringing a hand up to stroke her cheek.

The movement seemed to stir her away, and she opens her eyes bit by bit until they were looking sleepily at him. And within a couple of seconds, she smiles. "Hey," she whispers, her voice croaky from the night before. "How long have you been awake?"

"An hour or so," he says, before gesturing to the tray of food on the bed. "I was concerned about what happened last night so I got you some breakfast to fill you up again, and some of that tea that you drank at the beginning of your pregnancy…I don't know how much it'll help this time, but just thought I would try."

Daenerys smiles brightly at him. "Thank you, Jon…you didn't need to do this." She takes a bite of the fruits that were on the tray, before letting out a soft sigh. "I'm sorry…about not talking last night. It wasn't because I'm sick or anything…it was because I had a dream."

"A…dream?" Jon asks, brow furrowed.

"Well, a nightmare, really," she mumbles, placing the fork down onto the plate and taking a sip from the tea. "They've been happening against interchangeably but not as bad as before…however, this one…got to me. It wasn't the old one I used to have. It was…something else. Do you remember Bennero?"

Jon snorts and nods his head. "That man? Course I do. He seemed like a mad man the first time we met him…still sort of does."

She smiles a little at his words before glancing back at the furs. "I told you a long time ago that when he touched me, I saw some vision of the future…something that wasn't good. This time, it was in my nightmare…there was fire everywhere. A blue fire, like the one in the previous. But it was almost a lake of it. And people were falling in left and right, screaming…there were dragons that were pouring it down onto the lake, adding more flames. And I was almost…paralyzed. There was nothing I could do except watch…but the sky was red and the ground was cold. Everything was the opposite of each other. It was so overwhelming that I got sick after…I didn't know how to react. I'm sorry if I worried you."

Jon pushes away her undone braids, watching as her silver tendrils of hair fell while she leaned up. "You don't need to apologize to me, Dany. I've had nightmares myself. It takes time to talk about them." He nods to the food. "You do need to eat. Visions or not, we're going to be leaving this boat soon."

"I know, I know." She starts to eat quicker than, looking up at him between bites of fruit and pastries. "So…you're not worried about this vision? Or anything?"

The king sighs as he leans against the furs, making sure she ate every last drop of her food. "I wouldn't say…worried. I'm constantly thinking of the future, but there are so many other things on our plate that unless we see that particular vision come true, I'm trying hard not to buy into fantasies. Not while Bran could be fucking with our heads. Everything is so fucked that it's hard to stage what is reality and what isn't." He grabs a spare scone for himself, munching onto the end. "Right now my main concern is how Tormund and all the wildlings are going to react to us."

Daenerys chuckles, leaning back against the board of the ship. "I assume most likely shocked."

"Shocked? No. He's going to be fucking flabbergasted." That word seemed to make her laugh, to which he only continues, gesturing to them. "I mean, look at us. When I left the North, I had a horse, my daughter, and Ghost. Now, I have a wife, a whole family, a kingdom, multiple dragons, and another child on the way. Oh, and I'm the king of all of that. And Daenerys Targaryen is the queen."

Jon shakes his head, snickering to himself.

"I mean, he had a feeling that there was some sort of magic going on, that you were somehow alive – he even said it to me that anything was possible," he explains, turning to Dany again. "He was one of the factors that lead me to leave the wildlings, but surely he never could have expected this."

"Well…I hope he's accepting of it," she adds on softly.

He could sense the vulnerability in her voice. And he didn't blame her. The North was where everything had started to go wrong for them back then. Where they had found out who he truly was. Where Sansa, Bran, and Tyrion had betrayed them. Where their lives started to take a turn for the worse. He was slightly nervous as well, but he couldn't let that get to him.

"I know," his words speak after a moment, grabbing her hand in his. "He isn't some stuffy Northern lord. He always wants what's best for everyone. He'll probably just want to hear all the stories rather than turn us away." He moves to sit back on the furs, nudging at her side and pushing away the now empty plate of food. "Come here."

Daenerys settles in-between his legs, resting her head against his chest. He feels her relax in his arms after a moment of silence, letting out soft breaths. He starts to run his fingers through her braid-less hair, soft movements that ease her tensions. "I only hope this all goes over well," she whispers.

"I know," he murmurs back, before moving his hands to her bump, gently letting them rest there. "And we will do everything in our power to make sure it does."

She turns to look at him. "What exactly is our story when we go to see Sansa?"

Jon was quiet, trying to come up with the best version of what he had been thinking. "Well, I told her in the letter that we are in need of help because of Bran, saying that because she's not part of the kingdoms anymore, she can help us. I really used Arya's suggestion heavily."

"Reconciliation?"

"Yes, a lot," he admits. "I can only hope that she'll buy it. She is smart but maybe her emotions will overwhelm her…just like she thought they would do to me." He was quiet for a second, thinking about past issues the two have had. All the fights across the military tables. All the squabbles. Gods, a part of him truly didn't know how he had put up with her for so long. "Even so, I think she'll take us in."

"What about me? And the children?"

"I think with the children, we can pull the Stark blood card," he responds. "Technically, they do have Stark blood in them…and a Stark must always be in Winterfell or something like that. With Mae, Zaevar, and Nesara…I'm not entirely sure. They have the blood of ours in them too, but it could also be a bargaining tool, that we won't come if we can't take all our children in. I think she'll be a little more forgiving towards them."

"And…myself?"

Jon sighs before turning to face Daenerys again, this time seriously. "I know you're going to hate this, but you have to apologize."

"Apologize? For what?!" she hisses. "For trying to give the North aid again? For saving her people? For giving her secret food?!"

"Dany, please," he implores. "Just let me explain."

She stares at him, clear anger within her gaze before she crosses her arms against her chest. "This better be a damn good explanation then."

"It is," he insists. "Listen, she hates you. That much is clear. She has always hated you. I know that. There's no denying or anything on my part or on yours. But, if you apologize to her for never giving her the North, and concede any plans in the future to take over it, she'll most likely let go of it. Sansa is a selfish person. As long as she gets what she wants, she doesn't care who gets what as long as it doesn't affect her. In reality, she may have hated you, but she was also scared that you would take everything that she had worked for – or, rather, used others to get. But if you take the time and tell her 'sorry,' I'm telling you, she will be so much more inclined to take you in. And, with a child in you, there will be even more of a guarantee."

Daenerys sighs before glancing down at her bump. "And what if she doesn't? And none of this works?"

"Then she can forget about seeing her brother ever again and we can do this the bloody way," he says simply. "But this is the easiest way to avoid hurting people over and over. Persuade them. Lure them to our side. Show them what life could be like if they were a part of the Seven Kingdoms again…it's what needs to be done."

She looks back at him, her hand still holding his from where he had taken it before. "I really hope you're right, Jon…I really do."

He could see the nervousness in her eyes, so he gently pulls her into his arms again, kissing the top of her head. "I know…I trust that I will be."

The two laid together for a moment before a quiet thought pops into his head.

"Are you excited about the cold again?"

Daenerys groans and pushes him away, causing him to laugh. "Please don't remind me."

"I think you'll love it."

"I think I'll hate it."

Jon snickers as he goes to stand, heading to her closet to gather her furs for her that she would wear when departing. They were a dark red, a beautiful maroon shade that he felt would look perfect in the snow. He hadn't picked the colors personally but Eleana always knew how to make these things just right for his wife. "It's always cold up here for a Southern girl."

He sees her smile at his words, a memory of the waterfall spiking in their minds before she gestures to him. "Then come here and keep your queen warm."

He smirks when she says that and drops the furs before scooping her up into his arms, causing her to squeal. He lays her down on the bed and kisses her, feeling her arms wrap around him tightly as a cold breeze from the windows finds it's way in, but then a lurch in the boat causes him to pull back.

He raises his head as he glances outside, and sees the castle just ahead of them. He hears her sigh. "Are we here?"

"Yes," he says to her, seeing her smiling lips turn into a pout. "I promise you, later." Daenerys rolls her eyes as he pulls back her furs, handing them to her. "I suppose I should tie up my hair aga-"

"No." He raises an eyebrow at her instant denial. Her cheeks turn red once he looks at her and she clears her throat. "I know you tied up your hair a lot around here but let it down…let people see the real you. You've changed so much since you've come here. You don't need to wear it the same way you did then."

He could feel himself smile at her words, how she had so much faith in whom he had become over the last few years with her. So, he quietly places the furs in her hands, before stroking her cheek. "Alright, I can do that, if you don't wear any braids."

She bites her lip before nodding. "Deal."

When they finally walk out, everyone was making their way off of the boats, one ship at a time. There were Dothraki hoarding together, putting on furs to somehow stay warm. Unsullied marched towards their leader as they waited for the king and queen. The dragonriders and army were staring in wonder at the snow, all of them whispering words of amazement.

Jon chuckles at their reactions but wasn't surprised. It was the first time they had ever seen snow. He knew it would be shocking.

"Whoa," they hear Zaevar whisper as he steps forward. Nesara was resting in his arms beside him. "This is really snow? It's so cold."

Dan chuckles as she walks up behind him. "I lived here for five years. You get used to it."

Daemon's brow raises in shock as he rubs his arms to try and stay warm. "You get used to this?!"

Jon rolls his eyes and gently pushes the boy forward before nodding at the other children. "Come on, then, it's not that bad."

Mae nudges his side. "It's pretty bad, father."

Jon raises his brow in surprise. That had been the first time he heard her say that word. At seeing his reaction, she instantly blushes and looks away.

"I-I'm sorry if that was too much, I-"

"Don't worry," he says softly. "I don't mind at all. It's what I am, aren't I?" Mae smiles at his words, clearly happy that he hadn't freaked out like before. He leans down and starts to tighten her furs. "Here, that should help a little. Dan's right – she has dealt with this more than anyone here. If you need help, ask her."

"Thank you," Mae says softly before racing back down to where the other four siblings were. Jon watches as Daemon helps her onto the snow, and she instantly shivers. "Wow, this is freezing."

Daenerys laughs as she comes to Jon's side, done speaking with some of the Unsullied guards. "A dragon truly doesn't warm up to the cold that easily," she muses as they walk forward. Jon wraps an arm around her waist as they walk down the ramp, keeping her steady as she stepped down each part.

"It takes time – but not this quickly." He glances around the encampment of people, spotting the familiar faces strewn about, all either working or gathering people together. Arya and Gendry were moving with the dragonriders, while Yara was getting the ships prepared to dock for some time. Eleana was with Kinvara, speaking about the next steps for the sorcerers. Taevar and Tyrion were both near the front, looking over the letters that Tyrion had been asked to get.

Both Ghost and Ari were sat around the children now, having run off first into the snow, and were now rolling around wildly. Jon smiles. He knew Ghost had missed the cold weather. Maybe somehow he could give him more of it back home.

Once they reach the bottom, Arya glances up from where she stood and races over to him. "Hey – we just got word that Tormund is in the castle with the other wildlings – they're in the back."

Jon raises an eyebrow at her as Gendry follows her lead to where she stood. "Whom did you hear from?"

Arya turns her eyes to Gendry, who chuckles. "Well, uh, could hear him yell out 'where did all these dragons come from?!'" he imitates. "Pretty distinctive voice he has."

Daenerys rolls her eyes. "Good. Tell the guards to bring them out – I think we should give them a formal greeting." Arya nods and races off to go and tell the guards. Before Gendry could go after her, Daenerys gently grabs his arm, causing him to turn to her in surprise. "May I ask – when is this proposal you are planning going to take place?"

Gendry turns to look at Jon in shock. "You told her?"

"She's my wife; why wouldn't I?" Jon chuckles.

Gendry sighs and looks back at the queen. "I'm going to do it as soon as I can, but each time hasn't been the right moment. I want it to be perfect…rather not have it done on a boat or on a battlefield."

Daenerys nods, smiling. "Fair. You may go." Gendry races off after that, and Dany exchanges a glance with her husband. "If he doesn't do it soon, I'm going to do it for him."

"Oh, shush," Jon chuckles, pushing her forward gently. "She isn't your sister."

"But she's like my sister."

Jon rolls his eyes but was secretly smiling. He still was so glad that they had grown close despite how they had reunited. It had been one of his wants when they first met all those years ago and now it was actually happening, thank the gods.

The two of them walk through the crowd, barking orders here and there until they reach Tyrion, who hands the letters to Jon. "As you requested, your grace."

Jon nods in thanks, taking the letters into his hands. "Good. Plenty to go over here. Thank you, Tyrion." The dwarf nods in response before Jon turns to look at Taevar. "Everything going as planned?"

"As much as we need to. They're waiting on your command."

Before Jon could respond, there was a loud shout of joy, followed by a hearty laugh. "Jon fuckin' Snow!"

He turns his head quickly just in time to see a big, red, hairy mess lift him up practically out of the snow, giving him a tight embrace. Jon laughs as he holds his friend tightly, seeing many people around start to look in surprise. After a moment, Tormund lowers him down, his hands on his shoulders.

"That's really fuckin' you, ain't it?!" he laughs. "Thought for a while ya were fuckin' dead!"

"No, very much alive, Tormund," Jon chuckles, although in the back of his mind Tormund wasn't too off. Good old Meereen just kept coming back to haunt him. "It's good to see you too, my friend."

"Gods, and these dragons, all these fuckin' people – they yours?"

"Well, uh-"

"Hey! Come out!" he yells to the castle. Jon turns his gaze to see one person come out of the castle, staring at the sky, and another looking at the army, and one by one, free folk of all shapes and sizes begin to emerge from the abandoned castle's doors, staring in wonder at everything around them. "Brought as much as I could 'ere," Tormund says as he turns back to Jon. "Didn't think I'd be greeted by a dragon!"

"Yes, and-"

"And all these soldiers? The fuck did ya do? Take over a whole rand of 'em?!"

"Tormund." His voice was firm, stern, trying to control the madness that was the wildling before him. Tormund's brow raises as Jon turns him slightly to his right, and the man's jaw falls crackdown open. Jon was sure that if it wasn't attached it would be on the floor. "This isn't all mine. I'd like you to meet my wife, and also Queen of Valyria, Daenerys Targaryen."

Daenerys lowers her hood to cover her head from the snow and smiles at Tormund. "It's great to see you again, Tormund."

"Holy fuck, you're alive!" Tormund exclaims before he suddenly takes Jon's wife into her arms and lifts her up in a bear hug. Daenerys laughs at his reaction before he puts her down, taking two steps back before bowing his head to her. "Sorry for the reaction – didn't think ya were alive after how much moping this man did after the battle."

Jon throws him a glare, but Daenerys only smiles and nods her head. "It's alright. Many are probably going to be shocked to see me alive…I'm surprised news of it hasn't spread so much."

"Ah, in the North – the real North – we don't concern ourselves with shit from beyond the wall. Probably why we haven't heard." He looks to Jon. "But, uh, in your letter you said you needed us for somethin' important. What's goin' on?"

Jon sighs as he looks to his wife. Before he could speak, there was a shout from behind him, followed by fast footsteps. "Uncle Tormund!"

Tormund turns just in time to catch Dan into his arms, lifting her up and laughing. "Good gods, you've gotten heavy!" he chuckles as he lowers her to the ground, with her arms still around him. "You been improvin' on those sword skills for me?"

"Yeah! And look at what I can do now!" Before Jon could intervene, Dan whispered under her breath before she blasts fire from her hands, making a circle around her, melting the snow at her feet. Tormund stares in surprise and shock before words finally escape him a second later.

"You're a fuckin' dragon!" he yells.

Dan smiles before gesturing over to the other four children. "And this is my twin brother, Daemon. He was the person I saw in my dreams. I know it's weird," Dan introduces, pulling Daemon closer. The boy rolls his eyes as he extends out his hand.

"Nice to meet you, uh…Mr. Tormund."

Tormund looks at Jon, the shock still clearly on his face. Jon nods, confirming what Tormund thought. "Yes, that is my son."

"Well, shit," Tormund chuckles before looking at Daemon again, and then reaches out to shake his hand. "Nice to meet you, boy."

"And-" Dan gestures to the other three siblings to rush forward, which they all do. "These are my other siblings – Zaevar, Mae, and Nesara."

Now, Tormund just seemed plain confused as he looked at all of them in surprise. Nesara rushes forward and hugs him without any hesitation. "It's nice to meet you, Uncle Tormy!"

Jon could see Tormund hold in a laugh before he hugs the little girl back. Dan had been filling the little girl's head with stories of the legend of Tormund Giantsbane – she had been wanting to meet him for the last three weeks on the boat.

"Good to meet you too, squirt." He looks back up at Jon. "Ya got a lot of explaining to do there, Snow."

He chuckles and nods. "I know. Can we start to move everyone away from the water and towards the settlement? Get them out of the cold for a little bit." To which, Tormund nods and turns to the man behind him, nodding at him to start walking. Within seconds, they were heading through the walls, going back towards the Far North.

It hadn't changed much from when he had left.

All that he really saw was that they had built many more huts and homes for the groups of families that the wildings had, but other than that, it was pretty much the same. The people still hunted and brought back food, gathering around a fire. There were snowball fights happening with the children, and songs being sung with drinks in their hands.

Except for this time, there were several – if not thousands – of Valyrian's here, enjoying each moment that they saw.

He could see all of them having fun in the snow. The Unsullied had taken guard at their tents and their own camp, while the Dothraki made way a little bit further away from the original settlement, as Daenerys had discussed with them, but the Valyrian's were everywhere. Marveling at the snow, watching the wildlings build their camps so they could build theirs, bringing some of the freefolk to their dragons that rested on the ground after their long days of flying.

Jon had to admit that it felt pretty damn good to see the wildings so accepting of them. He remembered when Daenerys had first arrived North, everyone had been terrified of her dragons – of her. But it seemed these people were more intrigued than frightened. Of course none of them actually touched the creatures but marveled at how the Valyrian's tamed them so easily.

The fire sorcerers were also putting on a show for some of the freefolk, who was staring in shock at every move they did. Whether it was producing a mass tundral of flames to surround them, the heat keeping them warm, or puffs of fire into the air that their dragons would soar through. Each time they would cheer in surprise.

A part of Jon missed that they had left their little dragons back in Valyria, but he knew it was the right choice. They were far too young to come here and fight in the coming battles. Maybe if they stayed here for some time, he could ask some of the men that remained in Valyria to bring them, but he knew they made the right choice for now. Drogon, Jonarys, Jorharion, and Visenya were perfectly capable of fighting.

His eyes travel to where Daenerys stood with the children, watching them with Eleana and Arya at her side, speaking lowly to them. Nesara was throwing snowballs at Daemon, who laughed as he pinned her down, trying to nail her with his own. Zaevar and Dan were practicing their fire sorcery while showing the wilding children, who were clapping at each trick they did. Mae sat with a wildling boy, talking about their swords they both had – and Jon made a point to keep an eye on that. He didn't need another bloody romance spurring at war – especially with his daughter.

"…Snow!" a voice breaks through. Jon leaves his thoughts and turns to Tormund, who shakes his head at him. He had been heating up some deer for them to eat over a fire at his tent, and the two had gone to speak in private while the others set up their camps. "Fucking lovestruck, you are."

Jon smiles a little, looking down at the flames. "Glad to be…don't think I ever could have been happier than what I have now."

"Well, I'm glad for that," Tormund states genuinely, pulling the deer back from the flames. "Ya and Dan always seemed a little lost here…needed something more. Didn't think it would be this, but ya found somethin'."

Jon chuckles. "Yeah, indeed we did."

"So ya really are like, the king of all this shit?" Tormund asks him, gesturing to him and then to the people around them. "Of Valyria? With the dragon queen?"

"Yes, we are."

"How did ya even find her again? When you two were travelin' South?"

"In White Harbor in an inn. Wasn't pretty."

"And then ya just…got back together?"

He snickers and shakes his head. "No, never anything like that. It took a lot of time and revelations for that to happen, but here we are. Daemon is my son – Daenerys gave birth to twins when she was brought back from the dead, but Dan was somehow transported here. How, I don't know. The gods above, I assume. They were destined to meet – and to bring us back together. We became one again once we arrived in Valyria with Dan's powers, and then took over the mad king and queen that were ruling there. Made Valyria into what it is now. Practically took over the western border of it with governing cities under the union."

Tormund whistles. "Upgraded from King in the North to King of Valyria. Pretty big fuckin' upgrade."

Jon takes a bit of the deer, the taste so eerily familiar from his time here. "It is, for sure. Something we needed to adjust to. But now, the fucking king down South has been threatening our lives…and that's why we're here now."

Tormund nods, clearly starting to understand where he was coming from. "But, uh, tell me – what were these supposed 'revelations' that were told to ya and the queen over there?"

So he does. He speaks about everything they had learned about Sansa, Bran, and the others. What they had done, and what Bran was still planning to do. He reveals everything he had seen in the letter, as well as what had happened afterward. What brought him and Daenerys together again. It was almost too much information for himself to handle, but Tormund deserved to know.

Once his tale was done, Tormund nods once, twice, before shaking his head in dismay. "Always knew that Stark girl was something different."

Jon's brow furrows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I always saw her lookin' at ya and the queen over there with this look on 'er face. Like she despised 'er or something. I never thought it would be something like that, though…I'm sorry that you're goin' through that, Snow. You and the queen over there. I mean, I'm still freefolk, through and through. Ain't ever gonna bow to no one long's as I got my head-on, but even I respected who she was. Saved our behinds."

Jon sighs and nods his head. "Trust me, I know…I wish other Northerners saw that way."

"Ah, fuck those Northern lords," Tormund mutters. "You can have my army for whatever ya want against the prick. You know ya can count on me."

Jon smiles at his words before reaching over, clasping the man's shoulder. "Thank you, Tormund. That means a lot."

Tormund nods, taking another bite of his deer before turning back to him. "And Bran's got all these powers, but ya got dragons and fire mages and shit…startin' to think this is goin' to sound more like a magic show than a war." To that, Jon snickers. "But, if ya need us, we're willin' to…been seein' some stuff here to that's been concernin' us. Almost made us go South without ya."

That raises his concern a little, and Jon looks at him in surprise. "Tell me, what of?"

"Uh…same creatures we fought at Winterfell," Tormund admits. "Not the wight fuckers but those White Walkers…but, they ain't how they looked. We've only had some instances of people comin' back from hunts and seein' them – haven't seen them myself yet."

Jon's brow furrows again at his words. "What did they look like then according to them?"

"Regular folks," Tormund begins. "But they had, uh…skin comin' off their sides. Eyes were still blue, but it was like they were decayin' but still alive..still walkin'. There were no attacks, just instances of seeing them…someone could have sworn they saw the body of one of their own starin' at them. Didn't know what to do. Almost thought maybe we needed extra help. Turns out ya might be facin' the same thing."

Jon sighs and nods. "I believe it to be Bran's doing…so does everyone else on my side. That's why bringing the North together first is so important. If this is what we think it might be, then it's going to attack the North first. And I can't deal with those innocent people being killed because of him…I can't."

Tormund was quiet for a moment before nudging his side. "I hate to be that guy, Snow, but why do you want to save these people anyway? They did shit to your queen, outed ya to the Wall, probably will have plenty of people fightin' against ya. Why not just stay in Valyria and let Westeros fall to the ground?"

"Well, first off, I have people here I care about," Jon chastises, hitting Tormund on the back of the head for emphasis. The wildling glares at him as he bites into his deer once more. "Secondly, I know they may fight against us…but this has to happen here. Bran has already attacked where we live from afar. If whatever he is planning takes Westeros as well, then there's no doubt he'll come there next. And I don't want more people to die than they have. I can't let that happen."

Tormund nods his head, quietly agreeing. "Well…appreciate ya comin' back here, Snow."

Jon rolls his eyes. "It's Targaryen, Tormund," he states, looking to him. "I'm one of the rulers of Valyria and you can't call me by the last name?"

Tormund waves his hand in dismissal. "Ah, fuck that, you're always going to be Jon Snow to me." He glances back over where the children were and shakes his head. "Those little Targaryen's are goin' to bring hell, though. Can already see it."

The king smiles. "Yeah, they are. Love 'em all."

"So…tell me, how'd you get the other three? And where the fuck did Daemon come from?"

Jon chuckles. Ever the power, Tormund was. "Daemon is by blood my son. Daenerys gave birth to twins as I mentioned but I just never met him. They came here and I met him there."

"Spittin' image of ya."

"I know," Jon says, looking over at Daemon. He was now participating in a snowball battle with Mae now, who had come to return to the children. "The other three are from a bad family…their parents were the ones who ruled over Valyria before we came. Beat the children to shit, hurt them…the father even raped Mae." Tormund's eyes widen to the size of saucers.

"Tell me that fucker's dead cause if he's not I'll strangle 'im myself."

"Trust me, he's as dead as this deer," Jon states, holding up the piece for emphasis. "We burned them after they were planning on taking over Valyria and killing everyone inside. It was a horrible situation, but we took the children in after that. Wanted to give them a new home instead of the shit one they grew up in. Zaevar and Dan share their abilities, and Daemon and Nesara do as well. Mae is normal compared to them but she's training in the sword to learn. All of them get along well…and they think of us as their parents. It's what we wanted."

Tormund points at Nesara, where she was now placing snow onto the head of a snowman. "That little one is going to be trouble. I'm tellin' ya. I can see that mischievous smirk in her eyes."

Jon laughs. "I know. She gets it from Daemon."

Tormund places his stick back down on the ground after finishing the food. "Glad ya found everythin' ya were looking for. Never thought it would be with 'er again, but here we are." He glances over at where Daenerys was, letting out a clear laugh that broke the silence of the snow at something Eleana said. "Can see there's a sixth one on the way too."

Jon raises his brow in surprise. "You knew?"

Tormund shrugs. "Hunch I had. Assumin' ya two have been humpin' like rabbits."

His cheeks turn red but thankfully the furs were enough to hide his embarrassment. "Fuckin' hell, Tormund," he chuckles lightly, glancing at the ground. "But, yeah…another one's comin'. And soon. That's why we have to do this…make this world safer. That's why we need you to keep them here, while we somehow convince the North. We can't bring the whole army with us – that's too much. But if it's just my family, maybe we can turn the tide…end this war before it even begins."

Tormund sighs but nods. "Whatever ya need, I'm here for ya. As long as your dragons don't eat our cooked deer, I don't care. All gotta survive, right?"

He holds in his laugh before shaking Tormund's hand. "And we will, somehow."

Tormund draws back and nods towards the map Jon had below him. "Now, tell me 'bout every move you're makin'. We can keep plannin' from there."

"As you wish."

They plan for some time until the sun was far below the horizon and many of their men had gone to rest for the day, and guards had shifted duties so the others could sleep. But, at the end of it all, Jon was satisfied with what they agreed to.

While he and his family would make their way to Winterfell in the morning, Tormund would keep the rest of their army north of the Wall. He would work alongside both Greyworm, Rhaemon, and Moraq – a Khal leader Jon had entrusted while he was gone – on planning war tactics should the need arrive.

But if not, Jon would send the letter of when they would be needed, whether that meant to push forward with the North…or as a means of attack.

He was glad that Tormund easily agreed to help them. He had a feeling from the beginning that he would, but it was nice to see the direct handshake as a form of seriousness. They had been through a lot together, and he was glad to see that he wasn't taking the threat to the south lightly. He was just as concerned about his people as he was about his own.

Jon sighs as he steps into the tent that he and Daenerys would be residing in for the night. The children had been given their own to stay in for the time being, while he and his wife would share the tent he used to call his own home with Dan. However, when he walked in, he was surprised to see Dan still awake and talking to her mother.

"It is way past your bedtime," Jon instantly states, closing the flap behind him.

Daenerys rolls her eyes before reaching for his hand. "Your daughter wanted to do what we've been putting off for a long time." At his confused expression, she reaches down and grabs a piece of parchment off of the table. Jon cringes as he realizes it was the letter from Sam.

"Stole that from me, eh?" Jon mumbles.

Dan shrugs. "The imp told me where to look."

Jon rolls his eyes. Tyrion would be staying behind as well under the watchful eye of Greyworm, but he had been noticing that he had been speaking to many of the Valyrian's lately de to Davos not being at their sides. He missed the old man. He hoped his family had gotten to Valyria safely. Soon, he would join them.

"Traitor," Jon mutters before sighing. "Alright, then let's get to it. We need to sleep before tomorrow morning."

Dan nods and takes the letter into her hands. "I've been practicing a little," she admits, looking at them. "Ever since that ritual, I've been trying to improve my barrier. I think I'm getting better."

"Good. Keep practicing. We're going to need that as much as we can," Daenerys admits. Dan nods before closing her eyes. She nods to her shoulders.

"Touch my shoulders." The two parents do as she requests, letting their hands rest gently on her. She takes a deep breath and starts to mumble in Ancient Valyrian, before Jon feels the familiar sensation of being pulled, causing him to close his eyes. Colors pass by his vision, sending him into a whirlwind until he finally stood, staring at two people in front of him.

Dan was standing in the front, and Daenerys to his side, while she looked around the room in quiet curiosity. This did seem like the maester's chamber in King's Landing. There were bottles of what seemed to be potions or elixirs of some kind on the desk, as well as tons of books.

Jon takes a glance outside the window and feels his heart drop. There wasn't an ounce of sunshine out there. Many of the houses from when Daenerys had burned them still remained destroyed. The streets were covered in garbage. What was Bran doing to this country? What happened?

'Are you sure this is a good idea?' they suddenly hear from the hallway, a woman's voice. They all turn their heads to see the chamber door open and a very quick Sam stumbles in, a quill in his hands, followed by a frazzled-looking Gilly. 'You don't even know if he's going to respond – we both know he's going to kill Bran. There's no other way. What if he-'

'Gilly, there is no other option.' His voice was stern. It was the most serious he had ever heard Sam in his life. 'You saw what Bran was planning; we can't let that happen, not with us here. Jon has an army now. A nation behind him. We all screwed up sending him away but by the gods, at least some of us are going to try and fix this!'

He walks over to his desk, pushing away messy books and stained pages before pulling out a clean piece of parchment. The man looked different – older, many more wrinkles on his face, some of his hair greying. Working for the king had clearly aged him.

'What if he's not the same?' Gilly asks him, coming to his side now. 'We both know that Jon has changed a lot since you first met him. It's been so long since you've last seen him…what if he wants nothing to do with us after what happened?'

Sam sighs and turns to her. 'Then that is something I can live with…but I can't not send anything. I can't die knowing I did nothing to try and gain their help.' He starts to write, running a hand through his hair as he did so. 'I hoped they would find the letter and the vial I sent there…but I didn't think it would end in this.'

Daenerys and Jon exchange a look of shock. The letter and vial?

Gilly rests a hand on his shoulder, a look of comfort in her eyes. 'I know…no one did. But Bran made his choice and they've made theirs…all we can do now is hope that something good comes out of it.'

Sam sits in the chair now, looking up at her. 'I didn't think they would do anything like that…I always thought they hated her, or him…I hated her for a time too, even if my family wasn't great. But I knew without her…we'd all be dead. And what did they do? Betray them.' He shakes his head, staring down at the letter beneath him. 'I only wish I had found that vial sooner. That letter sooner. Maybe all of this could have been avoided...'

'Don't blame yourself. That thing was locked up tightly in the dungeons. You came across it practically by accident. Sending it to Meereen was the right option before anyone found out. And they still don't know that you did it. That's quite sneaky.'

Sam manages a tired smile at her. 'I know you're just trying to make me feel better.'

'Always.'

The maester looks back down at the parchment and sighs. 'Here goes nothing.'

He starts to write again, and then suddenly, the memory disappears. Jon is blasted back to the present, trying to hold in nausea he felt after seeing that, before looking to Daenerys to make sure she was alright. She gives him a quiet thumbs-up to signal she was okay, just had her eyes closed.

Dan stands a moment later once she returned, handing them back the letter. "So…that was some news. I was wondering how the letter got to Meereen."

"Yes…I was too," Daenerys mutters once she clears her throat. "My child…go and rest. We have traveling to do tomorrow. You're going to need your strength. Thank you for doing this." Dan nods and hugs her tightly before doing the same to Jon. He gives her a soft, barely-there peck on the forehead, still in shock, before Dan leaves them alone, heading out of the tent and back to the children's area.

Once she was gone, Jon turns to Daenerys, who had gone silent. "Sam sent the vial there," Jon whispers.

"He knew it was the right thing to do," Daenerys continues, leaning back against the cot below them. "He knew that he didn't understand what would happen next, but knew that we deserved to have that…or at least I deserved to have it. You weren't there when it was delivered there." She glances at the ground. "I hated killing his family…I didn't know you knew a Tarly. If I had known-"

"Don't apologize for acting the way a ruler does," Jon instantly states, turning to her. "You were in the right to punish them. The Tarly's were always stubborn. Sam had told me so many times before. No matter what you did, they wouldn't have strayed from the crown. They wouldn't have supported you." Jon sighs and feels the letter in his hands. "I should have stood up for you then…a part of me will always hate that he told me what my parentage was before the battle. It fucked up everything."

His head hangs in shame, glancing at the ground below him. He feels her soft hands start to cover his own, pulling him back to reality as he looks at Daenerys. Her soft locks reflected on the small glow of the lantern within their tent, gentle specks of light that illuminated her eyes.

"It's in the past," she reassures him softly. "But…it seems that his intentions with this are good."

"Did you hear what he said?" he asks. "He was talking about something Bran was planning…do you think that was his attack on us? Was he planning to kill you all this time that long ago? How…how long has he been doing this? Thinking of this? I…I…"

He could feel himself spiraling, his head in his hands. How could he have not seen what was going on at all? Not even when he said goodbye to his brother. This man was something completely different than whom he had witnessed years prior. It was bad. So terrifyingly bad.

"Jon," he hears her soft voice say to him, turning his head back towards her. "You can't let what he is doing get to you. We are here because we are going to defeat him, no matter what. And when we do, it will be a glorious day…just keep thinking of that. Keep thinking of the future."

His eyes glance down at her bump, now showing from behind the furs she had removed to go to sleep. "I know," he whispers, sighing. "I just…I want the future to be bright, not the dimmed one I saw in that memory." He takes her hands in his, trying to refocus his mind again. "It sounded like Sam didn't just want to reacquaint ourselves again…he wants help."

"An alliance," Daenerys continues quietly.

"I think he wants Bran out too…we might be able to use him to our advantage if he was able to sneak us into the castle at some point."

Daenerys nods. "Or he might have a possible weakness known about Bran that we don't understand. He's the person who most likely takes care of him."

"Either way…maybe meeting up with him isn't that bad of an idea…he looked sincere. Sounded sincere. I felt bad for Gilly…poor girl got caught up in everything happening and yet here she is now. I'm glad they're still together, though…despite what's happened in the past." He stands up and pushes the other cot over to where she was sitting, trying to form a bigger bed for them to lay on. "I'll send a raven to him tomorrow…and tell him to meet us in the Vale when he goes to visit, but somewhere no one will see us. A field maybe."

He lays down on the furs and pulls Daenerys into his side, feeling her snuggle against his warm body. "I think it will be good," she states to him. "It's better to have him on our side rather than have him as an enemy."

Jon hmms in agreement, keeping him close to her. The light from the lantern illuminates their shadows on the edge of the tent, bouncing off the fabric. "So many nights…"

Her brow furrows in confusion at his words. "What?"

"No, just…I remember there were so many times where I would lay in this exact cot…with Dan on the other side, and while she would be asleep, I'd be awake and thinking how much I dreamed of having you here." He looks down at Daenerys, seeing her soft smile on her lips. "How much I wished I could kiss you…hold you…keep you warm in the snow…just to have you here with me."

Her hand comes up to rest against his chest, and he brings his own down to take hers into his. "Your dreams have come true then…are they everything you ever could have wanted?" she asks him, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I never could have imagined this," he murmurs, kissing her lips softly. "It's better than my dreams. It's my paradise." She smiles against his lips, her arms wrapping around him. When he pulls away, his forehead rests against her own. "You remember what you told me back in Naath? About how we're your home? You're mine." He gestures outside. "I could lose everything out there, but as long as I had you and the children, I would be content. I would be happy. And nothing could take that away from me."

"Good," she whispers, nuzzling her nose against his. His fingers start to run through her hair before she sighs, feeling her head rest against his chest. "We're not going to get to be like this in Winterfell, are we?"

Jon sighs as well. "If we really want to convince Sansa, most likely not."

Daenerys looks at him and bites her lip a little. "So, in that case…do you want to have a bit of fun before we leave tomorrow?"

At the glint in her eyes, he could feel himself smirk. "And what kind of fun is that, Queen Daenerys?"

Her hands sink down to his furs, a smile on her lips. "Oh, you know exactly what fun I mean." With that, she plants her lips on his, sending them into pleasure oblivion in the freezing north, trying to warm themselves up before meeting the cold-hearted Queen of the North.

They leave early in the morning, with their children by their side, horses to ride, and a few extra people to bring. Eleana had woken up to get the children ready and basically outright refused to stay, so they had decided to let her follow. The two direwolves also wouldn't sit or stay still, so they had eventually decided to bring them as well. Everyone else – including the army generals, Taevar, and the rest of their people – stayed with Tormund.

He saw them off and gave them all bear hugs, with a promise to an eager but sleepy Nesara to take her hunting when they got back. And once they were on the road, they didn't stop until night would fall and set off as early as the morning.

For nearly a month they traveled. Once they made it to the Kingsroad, they would stay as hidden as possible. If there was even a chance of running into someone, they would hide and stay in the forest until they knew it was clear. And each night they would set up their camp and stay quiet. Both Dan and Daenerys had taken to wearing their hair covered in a cloak once more, while Jon and the others stayed hidden as well as they could.

Eventually, however, when they did reach familiar territory that Jon knew was outside of Winterfell, he stopped every person that was moving, needing to have a collective meeting about their plan.

"Jon, we're so close and I'm so hungry," Arya groans.

"I know, I know," Jon says patiently. "But we need to get our stories straight for when we face her. Arya and Gendry, you're going to be to my right. We need to make sure she sees the two of us first – familiar faces, I assume." The couple nods before Jon turns to where Eleana stood. "You and Daenerys can be on the same horse. She's going to question who you are but as long as you say you're a servant to us, she'll be accepting."

Eleana nods. "Sounds about right."

"As for you," Jon mutters, turning to look at the children. "Dan and Daemon – both of you on the same horse. Nesara is small enough where she can fit on the back of Mae and Zaevar's."

Dan tilts her head. "Why change up how we've been riding now?"

"Sansa is like her mother," Jon states gently. "She's very connected to people who are by blood. While we see the Galeron's like our own, and they are considered to be Targaryen's, she's going to care more about the two of you. It's better if she sees you first, only for the sake of getting it – it's nothing against you three."

Zaevar waves his hand dismissively. "None taken."

Jon turns to where Daenerys stood, her silver hair covered by a black cloak, waiting for instructions. Jon sighs. He knew they'd eventually make it here. They just needed to keep their heads clear. "For you…stay by my side. In fact, stay on my horse."

Daenerys raises an eyebrow. "On your horse? But-"

"I know you have your own, but it'll show a sign of power," Jon states. He sees Dany's shoulders fall at his words. "If she sees that you've taken a place behind me, and not as your own, she'll probably be more willing to bring us in. She's not going to want to see you in power."

"She does know I'm the queen of Valyria, right?" Daenerys asks, crossing her arms against her chest.

"I'm sure she does, but we're running with the story that we need help and Valyria is practically no longer a part of our lives. We left to come here and get safety from Bran because he was attacking the cities. We left them in charge while we came here secretly."

Daenerys sighs, her head hanging for a moment before she nods. "Alright, fine…I suppose that will work for now."

"Good. Let's get back on. We're nearly there."

Once they do get back on their horses in their new positions, with Daenerys snug gently behind him holding onto his waist, he rides forward with everyone at his side, snow starting to come down from the sky above. It takes them a little bit over two hours to finally reach the outside walls of Winterfell.

The moment they walk up, Jon feels himself sigh. Memories come flying back at him, from his younger years to when he last left to go to Kings Landing, when everything had gone to shit. There were good memories here, but so many bad ones. He didn't know how Sansa could live in this place. Maybe in another life he could, but now, a part of him felt that the castle was drab. Dreary. Everything seemed to be dead.

Even as they rode up, many of the people were in their homes. He could see smoke coming from some of the houses, but nothing crazy. The guards that were at the castle gate stopped them as soon as they arrived, at Jon looks down at them. They seemed familiar, men that he had in his army once.

"Who is asking to pass through the walls of Winterfell?" the guard asks, his voice firm.

Jon lowers his hood, revealing his face. Instantly, the guards turn white, staring at him in shock. Instead of saying his name, he went by what he had heard so many people call him at this point. "The White Wolf…a request to see my sister."

"Holy shit," he hears one of the guards mutter before the other one races inside. The second quickly follows behind, tripping on his feet. Jon feels himself roll his eyes before glancing back at Daenerys. She was holding in a laugh at his words but kept a good face up. He turns back, waiting for some sort of greeting, when a guard nods at him.

"You can come in."

Jon heads in first on his horse while Ghost and Ari were at his sides, growling at some of the guards that came near them. Arya and Gendry were next on their horses, followed by the children. He looks around the place that he once called his home, feeling nothing but pain. It looked barren. Most people must have been inside, but it didn't seem as cold as it would be when people would take shelter in their homes. If the famine was as bad as Arya had been saying, then they were hiding out. Maybe even trying to preserve their food.

The castle looked the same. It was still just as dark and gloomy as he had imagined it to be. It seemed that everything lacked in comparison now to what he had. When he was young, he never thought he would see the world. He only wanted to bring honor to his name and join the watch so that he could be worth something. Now, he had seen wonders beyond anyone's wildest dreams. Winterfell was so small now in comparison. He wondered what had become of his chambers. He supposed he would find out today.

A moment later, once he had disembarked with his wife by his side, and the rest of them had taken their spots behind him, he heard a door close from the castle. He turns his head and feels himself still slightly. There she was. Sansa Stark.

She looked almost identical except that her hair was longer – if possible – and her eyes were cold. Calculated. They reminded him of Queen Cersei's eyes when she had first arrived back in Winterfell all those years ago. She must have learned from the best. But right now wasn't the time to analyze. It was time to act.

"Sister," he whispers, stepping forward, praying to the gods above and below that he was convincing enough. "It's good to see you."

Sansa nods only a little, and two guards step forward. Jon raises an eyebrow at her security. "Before you ask – of course I'm going to be suspicious." Her tone was bitter. Short. "I've heard stories of what you and your wife have done across the sea. United cities and slavers together to somehow form a union. You said in your letter you wish for safety. You wish for reconciliation. Why come here to Westeros when you have your perfect little palace there?"

Jon sighs. This was going to be harder than he thought. "Sansa," he begins. "I went to Essos because I had no other need to stay here. I was lost. I had nothing."

That seemed to strike a chord with her. "You had your family."

"My family?" Jon chuckles and shakes his head. "Arya was halfway across the world at that point before she came to find me. Bran was gods know what, considering he wants to kill me and my wife, and you were busy ruling here."

"I wanted you to come home," she snaps for a moment, before gaining back her composure. "Did you not receive any of my letters?"

Jon shrugs. "It's the Far North. How do you think ravens work there?" Truth be told, he had, but he had burned all of those. He hadn't wanted anything to do with Sansa after she agreed to send him to the wall. "Even so, I wouldn't have been welcome back at that point. It was too dangerous. I needed to find something else. Both of us did."

Sansa raises an eyebrow. "Both of us?"

Jon turns to where Dan stood, and the girl quietly walks forward, staying a pace behind him with her lip bit. She was trying to keep her mouth shut. "This is Daenesa Targaryen. My daughter. My blood."

"I…was aware you had children. But you had her while you were in the North?"

"She was brought to me by some divine grace – I don't know. But I did have her with me, and we found somewhere else that we felt we could go to be safe. Did that happen to be Valyria, yes, but we were safe. We were happy for a time. I still missed you and my family, and that's why I came here…I made up with Arya. I need to do the same with you. I think it's long-past overdue."

There, that sounded real, didn't it? At least to him, it did. Sansa's eyes leave him and glance over at Daemon, who had stayed quiet. "Is this the other one? The boy that was with her?"

Jon noticed how she didn't say Daenerys' name quite yet. A part of him was aggravated, but he knew it was all a game in her mind. "Yes. This is Daemon. Come here, son." Daemon comes up to him and stands next to Dan, and quietly he takes the girl's hand, sensing her nervousness. "They're both getting older now."

"I noticed that…both of them seem a little old for how long it's been."

"They aged up quicker than most," Jon states, causing Sansa to raise an eyebrow at him. "I don't understand it either. They stopped aging quickly when they met – another divine practice or something like that. At this point, after what I've been through, I'll believe anything."

Sansa hmms and walks forward, looking at the twins with almost an expression of examination, up and down. Jon felt almost the need to step in front of them but he had to keep to himself for the time being. She glances at the other three children. "And who are they?"

Jon follows her gaze and then gestures for all three to come to his side. "These are our other three children." Sansa looked plain confused now, her brow furrowed. "We adopted…they needed a home and we gave it to them. They've been ours for a year now."

Sansa nods, looking at the three. "They all seem to be same age, except for this young one." Nesara instantly hides behind Mae as soon as Sansa looks at her, grabbing her hand. That always said something to Jon. Usually Nesara was open with most people, especially after being taken under their wings. If she was nervous around Sansa, she could sense something was up with her.

"She is the youngest," Jon says quietly, trying to get her attention back to her. "The eldest is Mae, she is nearly four and ten now. The twins and Zaevar, the boy over there, are nearly three and ten. And Nesara is almost eight."

She looks at the children again and then at Arya, who had stayed silent for most of this encounter. "Sister," Sansa states with a small smile. Arya manages a quiet one to her as well. "You have been quiet this whole time. Have you nothing to say?"

Arya shrugs a little. "You and Jon haven't seen each other in a long time – I thought I would let you connect again."

Sansa nods, walking over slowly to where she stood. "So…you are with these two monarchs now? I haven't seen you in months. Have you completely abandoned the North to rule as a mock dragon?"

Jon could see from behind her back Arya's hand turn into a fist, but she instead kept her eyes on her with a smile. "They needed my aid and I decided to stay. Bran's been sending in people to hurt them. No matter what his last name is, he's still my brother, and she is my good sister. They're family."

There was a twitch in Sansa's eyes the moment she said that. She glances at Gendry, whom had also stayed quiet. "And you agree with this, Lord Baratheon? Don't you have a land to be running?"

Gendry's brow raises in surprise before he unfolds his hands, looking at Sansa. "While it isn't my right to say, I've had multiple people running the land while I've been searching for aid to help the people there, considering King Bran hasn't been doing much to forward the process."

Ah, the bite. Gendry had some sass in him and Jon enjoyed it, but he couldn't show that now. Sansa turns her head away from him at his statement before looking at Arya once more, her composure kept. "And I haven't abandoned the North," Arya states, her voice quieter now. "Far from it. I'm only aiding family – which is what we are asking of you."

Sansa glances behind her, and her eyes fall on Eleana now. "Is she an extra ride-along child as well?"

"Forgive me for staying quiet," Eleana says softly. "I am a servant to the king and queen of Valyria. I owe my life to them and promised to serve."

Sansa raises an eyebrow. "It seems a lot of people 'owe' their lives to you two," Sansa muses before looking over at Jon. "Besides the servant, who else did you bring?"

"It's only her and my family," Jon responds.

"Lord Baratheon isn't considered family," she mutters.

"He is to me," Arya responds, her voice firm. "If you don't take him in, you can't see me."

Sansa rolls her eyes at her sister but sighs. "Alright, but none of this answers my original question." She looks back at Jon. "Why do you think you'll be safe here? I'm the sister of the king. If he is trying to hurt you, then he will follow you wherever you go. It's as simple as that. Why should I put the danger of the people of the North at risk when you pose the very same threat?"

He could see her suspicions. He had to put an end to it. "Because this is the place he least expects us to go," Jon says, before reaching forward and grabbing her hands.

Sansa stares at him in surprise and the guards come forward at her look of worry but she raises a hand, stopping them. Once the guards sit still, she nods at him to continue.

"Bran still believes us to be in Valyria," Jon explains quietly. "We had red priestesses there place some sort of incantation on our boats that disguised us. We sailed all the way here so we would find some chance of safety. Once he realizes that we are not there, he will leave Valyria unharmed, and only look for us. But he would never expect us to return to Winterfell. Maybe somewhere across Essos, but not here. This is where we need to be if we want to stay safe…at least until the threat is gone."

Sansa looks at him and then takes one glance behind him at Daenerys, the first time she had glanced at the dragon queen that day. The two lock eyes for a singular moment before Sansa looks away, shaking her head and turning away. "I can't risk the people here, Jon. I'm sorry."

"Wait."

The voice that broke through was Dany's, who's tone was brittle, gentle, almost like she was trying to pace through her words. Sansa turns to look at her again, her gaze unwavering. Daenerys steps forward and lowers her hood, exposing herself fully to her. No matter what, her eyes do not stray from her own.

"I know that you and I never got along, Sansa. And for that, I truly am sorry," Daenerys says, her hands folding together. "You wanted something that I could not provide at the time. I was…completely driven by something else. The reason I stayed in Meereen for so long was because I was done with Westeros' politics. I didn't want to get involved in any kingdoms or anything else. That was why with Jon, we stayed solely in Essos until Bran attacked us. And if we can have anything to do with it, we don't want Bran to hurt the innocent people there… as I did here."

He could tell that it hurt for her to say this to Sansa, knowing what she had done, but seven hells, was she putting up an act.

Sansa looks to her and then at Jon, before a solid question escapes her pale lips. "Why?" She steps forward, so close to Daenerys that she matched eye level, despite being taller. "Why my brother? Why, after what he did, did you go back to him?"

Daenerys looks over at Jon, who nods at her to continue. She looks back at Sansa. "Because we were meant to be," was her simple answer. "It didn't happen over time. It took trust and going through many things for us to come together again. We had children together; we couldn't be separated without giving them a home. And then we found a home in each other again. After everything." She swallows and looks down, biting her lip. "I can't lose him again. I can't lose what we've gained after everything. That's why we need your help. The North is independent…Bran won't come here. We can stay hidden, for as long as we need. And we will promise never to intervene with your lives or your people again, for as long as you live. I only want to keep my family safe."

Her hands instinctively stop over her bump from under her furs. Sansa's eyes widen slightly, but not much more than that. "You're pregnant," she murmurs before turning to look at Daenerys. "Is this correct?"

Daenerys slowly nods. "Yes…eight moons now."

"Far along…you'll most likely be having him or her in the cold," Sansa mutters before looking at Jon. "So you only want to stay here for safety and to make up…for nothing else? You promise me?"

Jon nods, trying his best to hide his true intentions. "Yes, Sansa. Please."

Sansa looks to him and to the rest of them, the children huddled together, Gendry and Arya quietly waiting, Eleana staying by Daenerys' side. The direwolves sat at Jon's feet, staring up at Sansa as if questioning her themselves with her eyes.

After a moment, the Queen of the North lets out a long, exasperated sigh. "Truth be told, I have missed you too, brother. I've wanted you and Arya home for as long as I can remember. If our brother is truly that much of a threat to you…as well as your family, I suppose, you can stay here for as long as the threat is here…there is always a place for you here."

Jon feels himself let out a sigh of relief before hugging Sansa, his own mind reeling with the fact that their plan had worked. He could feel her hug him tightly, almost tighter than he had expected, and when she pulled back, she offered a small smile and a pull-away.

"However, while your…wife and your children are brought to chambers to rest, I request you and I speak alone in my solar for old time's sake."

Jon looks to Daenerys, who's items were now being taken by one of the guards. She nods to him. "That's perfectly fine, Jon. Go ahead and speak with her…I'll settle everyone in."

Sansa nods to her and then at Jon. "Coming then?"

She heads off towards the castle. Jon spares one last look at his family as he walks in her direction, watching them all whisper to each other and grab their items from their horses, before he turns back. Snow falls against his eyes once he walks into the dark corridor, and the light leaves as soon as he turns, only the brightness of Sansa's hair guiding him.

Daenerys

She was worried.

She knew she shouldn't be, but she could see how Sansa looked at Jon. How she was calculating something in her head. While she had a feeling that Jon had done a good job selling of the reason they were here, a part of her wondered if the Stark girl had something up her sleeve as well.

Even so, they were in the castle now, and it was nothing compared to home. And if anything, it made Daenerys miss Valyria so much. But she knew this was where they had to be.

One of the guards as well as the handmaidens showed the children to their chambers. Nesara, Mae and Dan would all share one, while Zaevar and Daemon would share another. They were right across from each other. The guard had said it used to be Rickon and Sansa's old chambers before she had moved to her parent's old room, where she slept now.

Instantly, as soon as Daemon walked into their room, she could hear him mutter under his breath "this place looks and smells like the ash of the volcano," to Zaevar, to which he had laughed.

The girls didn't seem too impressed either. Nesara had plain out asked "where's all the color?" when she sat on her bed. Mae had told her to stay quiet out of respect, but Dan had laughed at her remark.

"That's the North – there's no color anywhere."

Daenerys had rolled her eyes. A part of her knew it wasn't really right for them to be criticizing the home of Sansa but at the same time, she didn't care. They were here as guests until their plan could truly unfold.

After that, and a quick promise to take the children out into the snow later, she followed the guard to where she would be taken next. Arya had said she and Gendry would just stay in her chambers, so all that was left was Daenerys, Eleana, and the direwolves.

They instantly felt inclined to go to Jon's old chambers, which was where the guard had brought her. As soon as Daenerys walked in, she felt herself sigh in a painful memory. The first night she and Jon had arrived, years ago, they had made love right there on that bed, promising to each other nothing would tear them apart. And then everything wrong had happened.

She swore to herself that would never happen again.

"There is also, uh-" The handmaiden stutters as Eleana places Daenerys' bag on the ground. "There's a smaller room attached to here – Lord Sn-King Jo-I'm sorry-"

"It's alright," Daenerys says gently to the girl, reaching out and squeezing her shoulder. "Nerves are fine. Take a deep breath and tell us what it is. You don't need to use such formalities. We are your guests."

The handmaiden swallows and takes a deep breath, before letting it out. A moment later, she speaks. "The spare room was used by Jon as a closet at some point to store his weapons…we can have that changed into a room where your baby can sleep when it's born if you are still here so you and the king may have your privacy."

Daenerys nods. "That would be excellent. I'd love to have that, and I'm sure he would, too." The handmaiden nods her head and bows before excited. The guard does not say anything to her until she is sitting on the bed, hand over her bump. "Queen Sansa will come to get you before dinner. Rest."

Without another word, he closes the door, leaving only the two women and the direwolves, both of which had settled to resting on the furs with Daenerys. Eleana shakes her head and starts to unpack her garments, hanging up Dany's dresses for her.

"Let me tell you, Daenerys," she mutters. "I have seen some strange folks in my time from city to city until you rescued me…these Northerners are the strangest."

Daenerys laughs a bit. "They are a bit hard to warm up to, that is true." She looks up from where she sat, tilting her head. "I'm worried about what Jon and Sansa are going to talk about."

"I wouldn't be," Eleana reassures her. "He's a man of his word. He'll stick to his story. For now, I think it's better if we just-"

There was a sudden knock on the door. The two women turn their heads to see the guard open the door quickly, looking a lot more urgent than before. But this time, it was someone different. "Is everything alright?" Daenerys asks as she stands, her brow furrowed.

Before the guard could even say anything, they're pushed to the side, following an aggravated groan. "Honestly, what is it with you people? I'm trying to help the queen here!"

Daenerys instantly recognized that voice. The person steps out from the shadows and into the light – Kinvara. She had on a heavy cloak and her cheeks were rosy red that seemed to be from running, but why she was there – and how – was something she was completely confused about.

"She fucking turned up out of nowhere!" the guard exclaims, before pointing at Daenerys. "Your husband lied to us – there's more of you!"

"We didn't bring her willingly – Kinvara, why are you here?" Daenerys asks her.

Before Kinvara could answer, however, the sharpest pain Daenerys had ever felt rocketed through her, sending her to her knees. She cries in pain as she clutches her stomach, staring at the ground. A sudden wetness overcomes her legs and she looks up at Kinvara, who gestures to her current form.

"That is exactly why." She aids Daenerys in standing, whom was now gripping the edge of the bed for some kind of support. "I had a vision in the flames – your child was going to arrive sooner than we expected. I got on a horse and-"

Another sharp pain soars through her and she cries again, this one so much that it had her falling onto the bed, clutching her stomach. "Why does it hurt so much?!" she breathes out, her voice filled with panic.

Kinvara instantly turns to the guards, how now seemed frozen in their spots. "Go get the king – forget whatever conversation he might be having with the queen. We need him here now."

They stood still for a moment, still unfazed. Eleana quickly rolls her eyes and then shoves them hard, out of the room. "GO! And get Arya, too!"

The guards then finally run off, and Eleana runs back into the room. Another surge of agony goes through her body, and this time it almost felt like a million knives stabbing into her skin. Tears stream down her legs. Where had all of this come from? What was happening? Everything felt dark – everything hurt.

Was…was her baby okay?

"Need…need Jon," she weeps. "Please…please…"

"We're getting him, my queen. He'll be here soon, I promise," Kinvara whispers. "Just stay awake with me. Stay with me."

Her mind starts to go in and out as the pain starts to intensify. She hears bits and pieces of what Eleana and Kinvara were quickly saying to each other. "She's…early…pain…why?"

Kinvara's mumbled voice comes back to her. "Moon…soon…protection…forcing her…"

Everything started to fade. Her world began to grow cold. The pain overtook her. She fell into darkness.

Jon, Ten Minutes Prior

Walking through the halls of the castle, Jon could feel himself smiling a little from the memories of his childhood, his younger years, memories of Arya playing in the snow with him and Rickon, a younger Bran that hadn't been corrupted. Before the world had truly fallen apart. But here they stood, somehow standing.

He followed his sister right up until she was at her solar, and opened the door for him. As he walks to where he would sit, he couldn't help but admire how she had done it. She was most definitely her mother's daughter. Everything was organized and in its right spot. There was barely a speck out of place. It almost looked like Sansa had her shit together.

Almost.

"I must say," she begins lightly. "I was quite surprised to see you send a letter to me two months ago. I had thought you forgot about the North after traveling east with…her."

Jon tries to push past the tone she used when speaking of his wife. "Yes…we've been through a lot. We wanted to come back to somewhere we knew we would be safe."

Sansa sits down at her desk and sighs. "Jon, cut the shit." At his surprised look, she gestures outside. "I'm not an idiot. Many of the people on this continent may be, but I've been keeping up with what's been happening overseas. I know you and her have an army that would do a perfectly fine job protecting you. If anything, I'm surprised you didn't bring them here. What is the real reason you've come to visit Winterfell?'

Well, he never said she wasn't intuitive. She at least knew that much about them. Jon sighs and tries to think of a reason quickly off of his feet before turning to look at her again. "I wanted to see you again." At her raised brow, he continues. "You were right. You did send me letters."

"You…you said you didn't receive them."

"I was angry at you, Sansa," he admits. He could, at the very least, be a little truthful with her. "I was angry that you had sent me off here, and that you were resting in a castle while I was off in the snow, raising a child in the freezing cold. I was bitter. I never really even told my daughter about you until she was older. But then things started to happen to my family…bad things. And I knew that I could no longer take for granted what I had taken for so long. I wanted to see you again and somehow repair what we are…I know that I've embraced my true heritage. There's no way around that. And I'm proud of it…but I'll always also be a Stark."

He sees a shift in her eyes at his explanation, and he immediately realizes he told her exactly what she wanted to hear. He was getting better at this whole lying thing.

"Well…I'm glad that you feel that way," she says softly, before sighing. "If you'd like to know exactly why you were sent to the wall, I can tell you."

'Oh gods, do I know,' he thinks angrily but pushes that down. "Please, tell me. Did you have anything to do with it?"

"I wanted you to come back to Winterfell, but Bran told me no," Sansa explains. "I wanted you home, here…with me." She rests a hand over his, a touch that was much different from the woman he had just seen only minutes before. "With Arya, whenever she returned. I didn't want the Starks everywhere and all over again. I knew that the North would favor you…or at least accept you despite what you did, but Bran told me that the Unsullied and the Dothraki would have your head. It wouldn't be safe. So we sent you to the wall. I sent those letters because I thought when you were finally safe, you would read one and realize we were asking you to come back."

His brow furrows in surprise. "You…wanted me here all along?"

"Yes," she sighs, finally pulling her hand back from his. "Jon, despite what you may think, I do care about you. I didn't want you freezing beyond the wall again after you possibly saved all of us from…her." That brought him back to reality. And he straightens up at her voice again. "But as I see it, it seems even a knife didn't do the trick."

"Don't say that." His voice was firm. Cold. Hard. "No matter what you may feel for her, or any animosity you may have, she is my wife. I'm not going to let you insult her."

Sansa looks at him and shakes her head. "I wasn't going to." She glances outside the window, biting her lip. "Jon, I didn't like her. A part of me still doesn't. I think it's because I was jealous that she took you away from us." She turns back to him. "Obviously the Starks and Targaryen's always had bad blood between us, but I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt for the sake of the people of the North. But then she barely listened to my demands for independence, took you away from us because of your true parentage, and then went on to burn a city. How does that look like to someone from the outside?"

'I wish I could tell her everything I knew,' he mutters within his head. Everything she said was the problem Sansa had caused. She was trying to get him at his own game. "She was going through many things. She doesn't even remember what happened that day. She's a different woman than she was then."

"For the sake of the people here, I pray she is as well," Sansa mutters, looking down at her letters. "And your children…two are yours with her and the other three are just…strays?"

He fights the urge to roll his eyes. "They aren't strays. They're our children." He sighs and glances at the ground. "They had horrible parents…I know I grew up with Catelyn but what they experienced was worse than I've ever seen on a child. They were beaten and harassed…Mae especially. We couldn't sit by and let them hurt the children."

"And…what's happened to those parents?"

Jon bites his lip, wondering if he should speak the truth on that. But he decides to say 'fuck it' and tells her. "Burnt to a crisp at the bottom of the sea."

"Seven hells," she mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You've seemed to take advantage of that Targaryen side of you now."

"Is that a problem? That I've embraced who I am?" he asks her, leaning forward. "You seem to have embraced being a Stark. If I remember, for the longest time, you wanted to be a Lannister."

"I was a fool," she spat, her eyes narrowing before letting out a deep breath. "I was a young child who dreamed of having something she couldn't have and I regret it to this day. If I had never gone down to King's Landing, who knows what would have happened…I know I wouldn't be who I am today, but I have nightmares about those years." She crosses her arms against her chest and glances at her desk again. "So what if I embraced being a Stark? Being the leader of a nation? I always wanted to be a queen, and now here I am in my home, doing what I wanted."

Jon sighs. "I can see that." He looks towards the window. "I've also heard rumors of the North suffering recently due to famine."

"Ah. Arya's spilled," Sansa mutters. "I would expect nothing less from her, honestly. We are, if you want the honest truth." She turns to look at him. "We've been having trouble for the last couple of years. Crops are refusing to grow during the warmer moons, and because we don't have the union with the king anymore, we can't ask for trade…many have proposed that I start to make some sort of alliance with them again, but I can't…that's like giving up my power to the people. They need to know what I say goes. Or else the rule will be influenced by outside forces."

"Sansa, the North doesn't survive without aid," Jon urges to her, causing her to roll her eyes. "I know that you feel that you can do everything from up here but it's too cold for things to survive for long. There are so many people spread out. You can get aid from everywhere – even from the south-"

"What, like you did with Daenerys?" Sansa interrupts, looking at him accusingly. "If I remember correctly, the last time you went south, you came back with far more than just help."

Jon could feel his anger bubbling over, but he still manages to keep a cap on it. "Are you just upset because she's my aunt?" he asks her.

"No, Jon, I couldn't give two shits if she was your aunt, your sister, whatever!" she exclaims. "Starks have married in the family before even. It's not as uncommon as people would believe to keep bloodlines somehow going. I'm upset that at the first sign of something better you abandoned all of us for her. You followed her. You went with what she wanted and didn't think of what the North wanted."

"And what did the North ever do for me, huh?" Jon asks, gesturing outside. "Sure, it was my home, but it never felt like it. You and your mother treated me like shit. I always felt looked down upon just because of who my mother was. I would have done better if I grew up in the South, where no one gives a shit if you're a bastard or not. So forgive me if I felt that I found a woman who didn't give a shit who I was when we first met and still does."

Sansa leans back in her chair and shakes her head. "There were plenty of other women up here that would more than willing to do that. Plenty. And yet you went with her…you've always gone with her. Don't you think that would hurt us? Our family?"

"What hurt more was that you never even gave her a chance," Jon states, his voice tired. "You never talked with her for real about why she felt the North couldn't be independent. And honestly, I agree with her."

"You were the bloody King in the North – how could you say that?"

"I was given that position out of nothing," Jon states angrily. "I became a king when I didn't want to be one. I didn't ask for that. I didn't ask for any of that."

"And yet you're a king now."

"Because I feel prepared. I feel like I'm meant to be there," he responds, gesturing to the outside. "You always say that you belong in the North. Your home is here. My home is there…I'll always be a Stark, but my name is Targaryen. I don't even go by Jon anymore to people who don't know me – I'm sure you know that." To which she nods quietly. "I've been there the seven hells and back to somehow stay alive and keep the people I love safe, and now I came back to the place where I felt the most alone for years….but I came back because I want us to mend. I want whatever it is that happened to us to end…because all I want is to see you smile again."

He sees her brow furrow at his words. Alright, the anger was leaving. That was good. "What do you mean?"

"Do you remember when you first came to Castle Black all those years ago? When you escaped Ramsey? Or when you saw him die? I want to see that version of Sansa again. Not the woman who's a schemer. Not the girl who goes against everything I've said. My sister. That's what I want. Arya was able to move on and even become friends with Daenerys – they're practically sisters now…why can't you?"

Sansa stares at him for a moment, seemingly talked to silence, but as soon as she opens her mouth, there were quick knocks on the door. The woman sighs and stands. "We'll finish this later." She walks to the door and opens it, seeing a panting guard. "What is it?"

"I-you…" The guard trails off, trying to gain his breathing back before he turns to look at Jon. "It's your wife," he breathes.

Jon instantly stands. "What's wrong? What's going on?"

"She's screaming in pain – some red priestess showed up – they said she's having your child."

Jon gapes at him, eyes wide. Kinvara. "What? But it-it's too soon!"

"I don't know, man, I just came here to tell you – she needs you now. I gotta go get the other girl." The guard raced off after that and Jon quickly grabs his bag. While he didn't want this conversation with Sansa to end that quickly, being with his wife was a much more needed matter. Especially if she was having his child – fuck, something was wrong.

He turns to her, but at her hand, she waves him off dismissively. "Go. We can continue this conversation later…Daenerys will need you."

He notices that her tone was different than the last time she spoke her name, softer. "You're fine with her-"

"I can't control when she has a child," Sansa instantly states. "No matter what you were going to be having the child here while you visited. I only wish it wasn't right now. Go to her. It's alright, Jon."

Jon nods, grateful that for once she was perfectly alright with sending him off. A part of him wondered what she had been going to say before they were interrupted, but he supposed that would be a conversation for another time.

He quickly leaves the room, practically running towards where they would be. He quickly asks a guard to what room they were in, and he says his old chambers. Thankfully, he knew exactly where that was. As he ran past the children's room, they all pop out at the noise. "What is going on?" Mae asks quickly, concern laced in her brow as Zaevar popped out from behind.

"Your mother is having the baby," Jon quickly says.

They were silent before it snaps to them. "What?!" they both collectively exclaim.

Dan sneaks out of the room, slipping from behind Mae. "Is there anything we can do?"

"Stay here – I don't know what's going on. She wasn't supposed to have the child so soon…I'm going to be with her."

"Wait!"

Daemon comes through the other door, slipping past a nervous-looking Zaevar. Jon's brow furrows. "Make it quick, son."

"I can help her."

Jon's brow furrows. "What? How?"

"I've been practicing my healing a lot – maybe I can help with the pain," Daemon says quietly. "I know childbirth isn't, uh…a pretty sight, but it's mother…if she's having the baby now, she needs help."

"Yeah! And we want to be there!" comes Nesara's little voice from behind Mae. "Even if it's…bloody." That was muttered.

Jon sighs and runs his hands through his hair. This was the wrong time to be admiring his children for their bravery. "Daemon, come with me. We could need you. The rest of you – stay outside the door. I don't know how many people are going to be in the room but I don't want you to see-" There was a sudden high-pitched scream that rang through the halls, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand. "No time for talking – let's go!"

The children run behind him with Daemon at his side, the shouts of pain echoing off the walls. He could hear Nesara sniffle. "Is she going to be alright?"

Jon swallows as another yet scream pierces the air. 'I hope so,' he thinks worriedly. 'I'm coming, Dany.'

Sooo...don't kill me lol

I told ya'll it wasn't going to be easy coming to Westeros - some past decisions are coming back to haunt 'em now. And Sansa's back in the picture! I know some of ya'll are just going to love that lol I know many of you are expecting me to make her some evil bitch character but I'm tryin' real hard to show the two sides of these folks and I'm sure that'll get exposed in the coming chapters - as long as you don't all murder me for this cliffhanger lol

A quick Valyrian translation:

Nādrēsy – bastard

Also - I need your help so please leave me your reviews! Regardless of what happens in the next chapter - boy or girl for the baby? I've been debating on which one would have a stronger impact but I'm finding them equal. Need some outside opinion on this, so tell me which one do you think would work better?

As always, love it? Hate it? Want to send me off to war to somehow fight for this piece of garbage? Let me know in the reviews, as they always inspire me to keep writing and pushing out these chapters for you all. Every single one of you has been super responsive and has helped my writing so much so thank you - keep up the awesome reviews because all of you are so amazing! Don't forget to follow or favorite if you would like to join us on our adventure, and I will see you all in the next chapter. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a great day! Wash your hands and stay healthy!