Daenerys is silent in shock. Not only had Jon revealed who his mother was but also that her brother was his father and that they had married. Eventually, she looked up at him. "Then you're the true heir to the iron throne." She mumbled.

"Dany... I... I'm not meant to be a king. Sansa should've been made queen instead and I... I couldn't try to take what you've been working towards for so long."

"That does not matter. The northern lords will want you to press your claim."

"Dany... I'm not good at ruling. They only chose me because I won a battle and Sansa was more responsible for that than me."

"And if they do choose you as the man they want to be king of the seven kingdoms. What then?"

"I'll join the nights watch again. I'm not meant to be a king."

"And what if I wanted you to be king by my side!" She snaps.

Shocked, Jon recoils slightly. She couldn't mean that. Bedding someone is far different to... To marrying someone. Why would she want to marry me? Until just now I was a bastard and everyone else still believes so. Recovering slightly from the shock words begin to stumble out of his mouth. "Dany... I... We... It's wrong... Your... You're my aunt... We can't."

"Why not?! Targaryen's have wed brother and sister for centuries what difference is an aunt and a nephew."

"Except I've been raised a Snow. Taught that wedding brother and sister sent Targaryen's mad."

"Tell me Aegon Targaryen, " Jon jolts at being called this. "Do I seem mad to you?"

"No." He mumbles in reply.

"And what about you? Have you been sent mad." Jon remains silent, unsure of how to answer. "No, you are not," Daenerys says. "You, Jon Snow, are the exact opposite of mad. You're a good person."

He looks at her solemnly. "Dany... I... I'm sorry." With that, he leaves her. In the crypts, in front of Lyanna Stark.

Her hand wanders down to hold her belly and child, with tears forming in her eyes Daenerys lets out a barely audible whimper. "Jon... I love you."

But he does not hear, he carries on walking out of the crypts without knowing what she said.

Every single one of Gendry's muscles ached. He had worked for hours each day since he arrived at Winterfell, trying to make enough dragon glass weapons. No matter how hard he worked, no matter how many times his hammer landed the amount of swords and spears needed did not seem to fall. Over a hundred smiths had gathered in Winterfell to craft the weapons needed to arm one of the largest armies the seven kingdoms had seen. It was exhausting work.

On his way back to his forge, he's interrupted by a voice he had not heard for many years call his name. Turning he saw her. She's taller, still dressing like a boy but she no longer looked like one, she had grown more womanly. Gone was the little girl who pretended to be a boy and replaced with a beautiful woman. Since he arrived at Winterfell, Gendry had overheard many men make a bawdy comment about Sansa Stark, some about her exotic Auburn hair other more vulgar ones about her tits or the way her hips sway beneath her skirts. But to Gendry, how Arya survived in the road for so long and her skill with a blade made her more attractive than a simple pretty body. Not that Arya wasn't pretty in her own way.

"'Arry," Gendry exclaims.

Arya scowls at him for calling her this.

"Apologies... M'lady." He says with a smirk.

In response, Arya raises her hand and strikes him across his chest.

"Oww. That bloody hurt!" He clutches his chest in pain

"Serves you right," Arya responds. "I told you in not a lady."

"Your still more a lady th-" she strikes him again. "Oww. Alright, alright no more M'ladying.

"Thank you." She smirks." And I'm sure that's not a word."

"You highborn's and your words." Gendry mumbles.

"What was that?" She says, raising her hand to strike him again.

"Nothing!" Arya laughs at how fast he spoke.

"Good," Arya responds. "I'm glad your here and alright."

"Yeah, well the red which had a good go at killing me."

"What happened? After she took you?" Arya asks.

"She took me to some castle on an island. Stripped me down to nothin' and strapped me to a bed." He grimaces at the memory." She put leeches on me. Said she needed my king's blood. Then some man came in started saying all these names and throwing the leeches on a fire."

"How did you escape?" She asks.

"Ser Davos broke me out. Put me on a boat and said to keep rowing." He laughs slightly. "Then I hid in Kings landing until Ser Davos found me again. Gold cloaks had no idea who I was."

Arya smiles at the irony of this. "I've been trying to find you for days after Jon told me you were here, but there are so many smiths all over the place that I couldn't find you."

"Yeah well, it still might not be enough." He mumbles. "Anyway." He says much louder. "What's a highborn lady doing walking around smiths stalls?"

Arya scowls ago him again, but this time Gendry laughs at her. She pulls a piece of parchment out from her pocket. "I wanted to know if you could make this for me?" She hands him the parchment which he unrolls revealing a drawing of a spear.

"I guess I could. Need to find something for the middle and make another dragonglass spear tip. It'll take some time but I can get it done."

"Thank you, Gendry." She places a hand on his arm before quickly removing and hastily leaving him. Alone and confused at what happened Gendry heads toward his forge.

By nightfall, Sansa is eating super alone as has become increasingly common since Jon had closed himself off. Without him to bridge the gap between Sansa and her Sister, Arya did not speak with Sansa often. Although their relationship was much improved from when they were children, they still had little in common. After finishing her supper and having a servant take it away. She pours herself a cup of wine. Although Sansa had grown to like the taste of wine, she was careful not to overindulge. After seeing the effect it had on King Robert in general and Cersei at the battle of Blackwater Bay. A knock at her chamber door interrupts her drinking. "Enter" she calls. The door opens to reveal Tyrion. "My lord hand, I must say j did not expect you this late."

"I do believe a husband is welcome in his wife's chamber." He says with a smirk.

Sansa sighs but her lips curl into a smile. "Your jokes are appreciated as always Tyrion."

Tyrion moves across the room to sit across from her. "Well it must have been greatly appreciated, I do believe that is the first time I've seen you truly smile."

"You were the closest to making me smile."

"Gods what a horrifying thought, that the demon monkey almost made the beautiful maiden Sansa Stark smile." He chuckles.

"Well, I did smile in secret when Robb won a battle." She smiles sadly.

"Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if your brother had won the war. Joffrey, the vicious cunt would've lost his head, Cersei too, perhaps even my father. Maybe myself for sharing their name."

"Robb wouldn't do that. He would be been fair to you and I would tell him that you were kind to me."

"What could've been if my father and sister weren't despicable."

"Your brother is hardly innocent either." She hisses.

Tyrion sighs. "My brother is a broken man, ever since the sack of Kings landing he's never been the same since. He hides it beneath his arrogance and carefree nature but hidden beneath that is a broken and battered man."

"Forgive me if I do not believe you."

"I can understand that. Anyway." He says slightly more cheerfully. "There was an actual reason why I came here."

"And what would that be?" She questions.

"Your brother." He says bluntly.

Santa sighs. "I know. He's completely closed himself off. He avoids me all day. I spoke with Arya and she said he hasn't spoken to her in days."

"Wonderful. Just when there is a chance for the first real peace in forty years." He sighs. "You must find out what is wrong with him. For the good of the realm."

"And I shall." She says coldly. I trust you shall also be trying to get your queen to speak to him?"

"No, I will not." He says calmly.

"Why?" She says harshly.

"What do you know about the attack on the Unsullied?"

"The same as all the other lords. Two thousand are dead and over a hundred are being treated for burns."

"Yes, that is what we told everyone. But we didn't tell anyone that the Queens closest friend was travelling with the Unsullied. They were sisters in all but blood. Speaking about Jon to her currently would not benefit any of us given the impact Missandei's death has had on her."

"So? We've all lost people we loved." Santa replies spitefully, thinking of those she had lost mother, father, Robb, Rickon, Jeyne, Lady, even Margaery Tyrell.

"Yes, you and your family more than most. So I'm sure you can understand losing someone so close to you." Sansa scowls. "She's a strong woman the queen. You and her are not so different. " Santa stiffens in her seat at being compared to the Mad Kings daughter. "She's showing a facade of strength to you and the northerners. But inside, she is suffering. In a short space of time, she has lost her closest friend and confidant shortly followed by your brother ignoring her when it's obvious to anyone with half a brain that the pair of them were behaving like lovestruck fools and all we needed was for them to say some words in front of a Septon or under a heart tree and we would be headed for peace. Yet now we are further away from a united Westeros than when we were in Mereen."

"She has you, Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah to advise her."

"Yes for most things but some require a personal friendship to discuss."

"Perhaps she doesn't have much faith in you."

"Really Sansa? Tell me if you were queen in the North and we're fucking a bastard king for half the day would you tell, let's say, lord Royce."

"No, because I wouldn't have done it."

"Of course not. Ever the perfect lady, Sansa Stark. Yes, I would've preferred her not to have a tumble in her sheets with the king in the North. But, it is clearly not just a fuck here and there. They love each other. They may be too stubborn to admit it but even now you can see the longing in their eyes when they look at each other and they hardly speak more than two words to each other. "

"So all we have to do is get the most stubborn and lovestruck royals to just speak to each other."

"Yes, that is the general essence of it," Tyrion smirks.

"Wonderful." Santa sighs.

Drinking. It was all Haime seemed to do. Tired of Bronn's jokes about finding him a blonde whore as apparently nothing prepared you for a suicidal fight like a good fuck from a northern girl. Or so Bronn said. His brother was rarely available either, Tyrion spent most of his time was spent in war council meetings or a drunken stupor that rivalled Jaime's own state.

Drinking another cup of wine, Jaime reflects on what he's done. Leaving Cersei was one of the hardest decisions he had made in his life, second only to running his sword through the Mad Kings back. Thinking of Aerys Targeryen, Cersei kept appearing instead of him. More and more frequently Cersei had been showing the characteristics that Aerys had shown, destroying the Sept of Baelor with wildfire was something Jaime could've never imagined his own sister doing.

Then there's the dragon queen, the cause of the return of all the nightmares Jaime thought he had long since buried firmly at the back of his mind. But, just seeing her brought them all back. For all, he tried Jaime could never rid himself of the nightmares of the burnings. For over twenty years, he rarely went more than two nights without suddenly waking, dreaming of wildfire roasting men alive. But now those nightmares had changed. Ever since Jaime laid eyes on the Targeryen queen at the dragon pit, he could not stop thinking about her mother. She looked so much like queen Rhaella. The Queen who did everything to protect Rhaegar and Viserys from their father's madness even if it put herself at risk. The Queen who many said was the life of the Red Keep but Jaime never knew that. He only knew the screams and the cries of pain as Aerys raped her. All Jaime knew of this supposed good and gracious queen was a woman who was beaten and violated for all the time he knew her.

Every night since the Dragon Pit and seeing her, his dreams were the same.

He was fifteen again, the youngest to have been given to white cloak. He had never felt such pride than when Ser Gerold Hightower fastened the white cloak around his shoulders. But his father, he had been livid. Tywin feigned illness to return to Casterly Rock and resigned as hand, taking Cersei with him. The reason he had agreed to be a kingsguard d and get out of his imminent betrothal to Lysa Tully had gone. But there was still hope. Aerys would not be king forever and when Rhaegar ascended to the throne surely his father would return and bring Cersei with him. Today was the return of the king and prince from the mess that was the tourney at Harrenhal. Jaime knew next to nothing about politics but even he knew that riding past your wife, a Dornish princess, future queen of the seven kingdoms and mother of your children to crown another woman his queen of love and beauty was bad. But he pushed those thoughts aside as king Aerys and Ser Jonothor Darry accompanying him. Ser Gerold had assigned him to guard the queen's chamber for the night and Ser Jonothor the king, it appeared they would both be guarding the queen's chambers for the night. The king entered his wife's chambers and for a few minutes, nothing was wrong. He heard the sound of gowns ripping, passionate lovers, he thought to himself.

"Aerys, please you're hurting me." He heard the queen whimper.

"Aerys," she cried, not in pleasure but in pain.

Jaime looks at Ser Jonothor to see his reaction to the queens cries. But he was expressionless.

"Aerys please stop!"

"Quiet woman!" He heard the king snarl followed by the sound of smack and more cries from the queen.

Jaime looks at Ser Jonothor. "We should help her. We swore to protect her."

Ser Jonothor sighed. "We did but not from him."

Horrified Jaime looks forward again and tries to block out the sounds of thequeen'ss cries and whimpers. How could they claim to be knights that swore to protect the innocent yet are allowing the queen to be beaten? How could they have sworn to protect the Queen yet allow her to be raped?

Trying to forget the memories of his to e as Aerys kingsguard he pours himself another cup of wine, a knock at his chamber stops him from drinking yet more wine. He rises from his chair, stumbling slightly from the amount of wine hed drunk. If this is Bronn trying to bring me to a brothel to find a blonde northern whore ill gut him. Jaime opens his door to reveal a man he respected but knew that he looked down on him for his slaying of the mad king. Ser Barristan Selmy.

"Ser Barristan, to what do I owe the honour?" He slurs slightly.

"Ser Jaime, I hoped I might speak with you?" He asks.

"Of course, come in."

The pair sit down in Jaime's chamber. He pours a cup of wine for Ser Barristan and picks up his previous cup.

"Haven't you had enough to drink?" Ser Barristan says looking at Jaimes cup.

"Not at all." A hint of his former arrogance creeping into his voice.

"You used to barely drink more than two cups but now you look as if you've drunk more than Robert and your brother."

"I suppose that's what happens when one is facing certain death."

"Death would be less certain if you spent less time drinking and more time training your left hand."

"What's the point? I fight as well with this hand as a child of three."

"Do you remember Ser Arthur's words." Ser Barristan questions.

"Of course I do." Jaime answers.

"Say them."

"Why? It ma-"

"Say them" Ser Barristan interrupts.

Jaime sighs. "It matters not that in the sword of the morning for there is always room for improvement."

"Yes, those where the words Ser Arthur said to anyone who asked why did he train. Whether it was you, myself, squires, knights, lords even prince Rhaegar. And you seem to have forgotten that?"

"Well, he has been dead for over twenty years. And I'm missing a sword hand."

"Should that matter? You should be out in the yard training and sparing with whoever you can so that you are just as good as you were when I last saw you."

Jaime chuckles. "There is little chance of that happening." He says grimly.

"Gods what happened to you." Ser Barristan exclaimed. "You used to be the smuggest man from Sunspear to the wall."

"Well, first there was some Bolton bannerman deciding to cut my handoff. The woman I once loved turned out to be just as mad as Aerys. Oh, and there was revealing to Myrcella that I was her father and then having her die in my arms."

"I'm sorry... She was a sweet girl she deserved better."

"That's the way though. The good and kind people suffer and die whilst the shits like me live."

"Wallowing in self-pity will get you nowhere."

"Gods when did you get so philosophical." Jaime chuckled.

"I've always been this way, you've only just started paying attention."

"I suppose this is one of the benefits of realising Cersei is as mad as Aerys and getting as far away from her as possible." A short silence descends on the pair. Jaime is the first to break the silence." Why did you come here?"

"I believe I should be asking you that."

"I don't understand," Jaime says, confused.

"Why did you come to Winterfell? The castle is full of Stark and Targeryen loyalists and both have not made it a secret how they despise Lannisters."

Jaime sighs. "Cersei she... She's not the same person she used to be. And I saw that... Thing. I couldn't just sit behind the walls of Kings landing and let the rest of the realm turn into more of them."

See Barristan smiles. "Then you are the knight Ser Arthur thought you could become."

Sansa knew something had to be done. Jon's poor enthusiasm in council meetings and lack of public appearances was beginning to harm to morale of both lords and their men. Not mention the deterioration of his relationship with Daenerys. Whether or not they where as close as Tyrion said they were did not matter. They are the key to securing peace in the Seven Kingdoms. Marriage between them would help to repair the damage done from the rebellion. Furthermore, it would give her the support of the North, Riverlands and Vale. Jon may not be a relative of them, but Sansa could easily manipulate Robin Arryn into supporting Jon and by extension Daenerys. Her uncle Edmure would be more difficult to convince for she knew little about him other than he was the one wed at the red wedding.

She had sent word for Arya, Bran and Jon to meet in the godswood. She had to find out what was wrong with Jon and she intended to use his soft spot for Arya and Bran to get it out of him.

Her younger brother and sister were already there, waiting for her and Jon's arrival. They stood in silence each of them knowing why Sansa had gathered them here. Although Arya to a less extent and Bran could've seen her conversations with Tyrion.

A short while later Jon arrived. "What's this?" He asks, clearly confused.

"Jon were worried about you. You've barely spoken to by of us. We've hardly even seen you." Santa says.

"Sansa, I'm fine. I don't know what you're talking about." Jon replies.

"No your not!" Arya shouts. "Stop lying. You haven't been yourself for weeks."

"Arya I don-"

"Stop lying! We're your family you can tell us anything."

"I can't Arya."

"Why not! Why can't you trust us?"

"Arya i-"

"He's the true heir to the iron throne." Bran interrupts.

Sansa and Arya turn to look at Bran in shock. Then back to Jon who looks crestfallen.

"How?" Sansa asks.

Jon sighs, knowing that now he has no choice but to reveal his secret to his sisters. "Aunt Lyanna she... She's my mother."

His sister's eyes widen in shock and confusion. Their aunt is their brother's mother but that still made no sense... Unless. Sansa is the first to figure it out. "Prince Rhaegar... He's your father isn't he?" Jon nods.

"He didn't kidnap her. She ran away with him to get away from Robert Baratheon. She loved Rhaegar." Jon mumbles.

Sansa's mind works trying to figure out all of the possible ramifications. Jon now had the stronger claim to the iron throne, for a son came before a sister. Was this the reason for Jon distancing himself from both his family and Daenerys? Was he worried that she would see him as a rival and try to get rid of him? Or was it something else. Tyrion had said that they had fucked and that he believed that their feelings went further than that. Was he worried that Daenerys would no longer want him? Sansa quickly ruled this out, Daenerys is a Targaryen and they had no problem wedding within their family whereas Jon had been raised a Stark. True, a marriage between an aunt and a nephew was not as frowned upon as a brother and sister but they are far from being common and Jon would likely find it a problem.

"I don't care! Your still our brother!" Arya runs over to Jon and wraps her arms tightly around him.

"I'm not your broth-"

"Yes, you are Jon. You will always be my brother." Arya insists.

"Arya, my names not even Jon." Sansa looks at home expectantly. "It's a Aegon Targeryen."

Unknown to the others, Bran's eye's roll into the back of his head.

"Then the iron throne should be yours." Sansa mumbles.

Arya turns and stares at her sister. Her eyes are full of anger.

"Sansa, I don't want any throne. The northern lords already whisper that you should be queen instead of me."

"That doesn't matter. As soon as they find out you have the stronger claim they will want to put you on the throne." Sansa replies.

"I don't want the throne. I'm terrible at ruling and I don't want to fight Daenerys."

"That won't matter to the lords. They don't trust her and you were born and raised in the north that alone makes you more appealing as a ruler to her."

"And that makes them whispering to replace me as King in the north fine?"

"I don't..." Sansa trails off as the sun disappears and all around them darkness descends upon Winterfell. Panicking and confused they look all around trying to see anything. All three of them lock eyes with Bran as his eyes roll back down.

"The long night has begun."