Jon was incredibly nervous about seeing Sansa. When she had returned, she had been practically begging him to tell her all about what had happened during her time away. He had just been able to dismiss her questions, telling her to rest more before they had a proper conversation. That meant he still had to tell her about his decision about his future and his commitment to the wildling community. It also meant, more importantly, she had no idea that Bran had died. He had considered telling her he had tragically perished in the battle but he knew deep down that it was the wrong thing to do. And he didn't doubt that she'd eventually find out the truth. He knew that the longer he left it, the worse her reaction would be.
Sansa was waiting for him in her room, holed up inside the castle of Winterfell. It was the same room she had grown up in as a child but, after all the changes of ownership that had occurred recently, it had lost all the personality she had bestowed upon it. It was now a cold, dark room. Nothing marked it as any different from the hundreds of other rooms in the castle. But that would soon change. The war was over. Daenerys Targaryen and Stannis Baratheon would hopefully be leaving her family home sooner rather than later, taking all their men and savages with them. Then she'd be able to make it feel like their home again. Her and Jon. That didn't mean she was particularly happy with him. Soldiers used the downtime to drink and that meant they talked. About a lot of things.
Jon was slightly perturbed by her expression as he came into her room. She said nothing, evaluating his face for the guilt she expected to see. He slowly closed the door behind him, the silence quickly becoming deafening. He tried to maintain eye contact but her icy glare eventually made him look away. He wanted to know what she already knew because, from looking at her face, he could tell she already knew something. It just was left for him to determine what that was. The way she was looking at him...it reminded him of the way she had acted around him when they were mere children, when her thoughts of him had been plagued by callous words from her mother. He hadn't expected her to look at him in that same fashion ever again after they had grown closer but here she was. Looking at him as if he were a piece of dirt. He felt himself shrink under her gaze.
"How was the meeting?" she asked with hardly any emotion, acting as if they were in for a normal conversation. He was happy to keep that going to stop the inevitable tirade.
"Productive," he replied. "And shocking. Stannis is now under Targaryen control." Sansa barely lifted an eyebrow in response.
"All I care about is whether that means they will now be leaving my home. Our home. I want things to go back to the way they were."
"I think the plan is for them to head south within the next few days. Daenerys wants to be gone as soon as possible."
"So this castle isn't good enough for her?" she asked bitterly. Even if she wanted her gone, there was still an irrational part of her mind that didn't want Daenerys to disrespect Winterfell.
"You know that's not what I meant. She has her eyes set on the Throne. She didn't have to help us against the White Walkers but she did. And lost many men doing so. So the least you can do is give her the courtesy of not judging her before you actually spend proper time together." That shocked Sansa. She hadn't expected such a strongly defensive response. She wanted to shake her head. He was just another man caught under her spell.
"I probably won't have time to. Maybe when she is queen, if she manages to become the ruler, we will visit as the Northern powers." He looked down at the floor guiltily, which she picked up on. "What?"
"You'll be the ruler of Winterfell. Not me."
"You're just as much of a Stark as me. So you'll take control."
"Not by blood. And that's the most important thing. You're the last remaining Stark."
"Even so...you will be here by my side to help me. So that we can grow the house name again to what it once was."
"About that...I'm not going to be here." She stood up abruptly.
"Why?" she asked with a hint of anger. "Are you going with...her?"
"No, no. Mance Rayder died in the battle, which means the wildlings no longer have a leader. Tormund wants me to help them settle again."
"But you're not one of them! You owe them nothing!"
"They need my help! There are so many different clans and groups currently together. There's bound to be at least one person who sees this power vacuum as an opportunity to enhance their own power only. They are good people. I owe it to them to make sure they don't fall apart again."
"This is your home."
"Not really. It never was. I was always an outsider. Don't pretend like you didn't know. I'm the bastard. As long as I stay here, I will always be seen as that. They're my family. And, by establishing them properly further up North, I will be repaying Daenerys by making sure they don't pose a threat to her future reign."
"You're turning your back on your true family. Just as you did to Bran." He paused, the colour draining from his face as he realised she had already found out about her brother's fate.
"Who told you?"
"Soldiers have a tendency to talk about many things. It was a pretty big event."
"I was going to tell you."
"Where you?" she asked sceptically. "Because I don't think you would have. Since I can tell you feel guilty for it. You were a part of the group who condemned him to death!"
"You don't understand what happened."
"You killed him. That's what you did. Maybe not literally. But you agreed to it."
"He was the reason the Night King came here! You know he had changed. He was no longer the boy you knew. Bran was nothing like we ever realised."
"And who told you that?"
"Bruda."
"The old man? That crazed old man who follows Daenerys, the woman who would benefit from getting rid of a Stark now she wants the throne? What proof did he give you?" He didn't know how to explain what the warlock had shown him. His silence made her presume he had given none. "You say I'm now the ruler of Winterfell. If that's so, I order you to take me to see her. It's about time we had a conversation."
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Sansa, with Jon hurriedly trying to keep up with her, stormed into Daenerys' room. She was surprised to see that it was unlike any room in the castle since she had walked into what seemed like a waiting room, with the Targaryen's sleeping chamber blocked by another door to the right. Jorah stood up as she entered, relinquishing his hold on his sword, an automatic movement that had been caused by the sudden entrance. Jon gave the knight an apologetic shrug of the shoulders. Bruda, sat calmly in the corner reading some pages of old parchment with his spectacles on the very end of his nose, merely looked up at the commotion, relishing in the angry expression that was directed his way by the Stark woman. He neatly folded the parchments way, stowing them in some deep pocket in his robe that was hung lazily on his chair, and took off his glasses. The only sound in the room was the snap of the wireframes coming together as he put them away too. With all their attention on him (just as he liked it), he stood up and silently walked towards Sansa. She held back a gulp as he towered over her. He'd always seemed like a pleasant man yet now she was definitely seeing a different side to him.
"You can't just barge in here," Jorah said from behind them, although she didn't take her attention away from the older man. Looking away would be a sign of weakness, she knew it.
"I am the Lady of Winterfell. Last time I checked, we are currently in said castle. In other words...I can do whatever I want." Bruda smirked at her feisty words. He'd barely interacted with her before. He had to say he was impressed with what he was seeing.
"What is it exactly that you want?" he asked her. He could see her slightly relax as she realised she was going to be listened to. She hadn't had a position of power or authority before, that was clear to him.
"To speak with Lady Targaryen." She was trying to be polite at least. Bruda could easily tell it was fake.
"She's a very busy woman. You know...planning a political coup. Takes a lot of energy to do so. What do you want to talk about?"
"I feel that I should know what her plans are and when she is choosing to leave my home. We are grateful to her for her help in the war but Winter is a difficult time, especially when it comes to feeding our people. Our hospitality can only stretch a certain length."
"You could, and probably already have, learned all that from Jon here. He was there for the meeting. No...this wouldn't cause you to charge into here uninvited. There's something else on your mind."
"The murder of my brother." Jorah visibly blanched, knowing he had been the one to do that. Bruda gave him a reassuring nod.
"Again, I'm sure Jon explained to you what happened and why it had to happen."
"He gave me the same excuse you gave him before it happened. I want answers. As far as I'm concerned, you're the reason Bran is dead. Wars have started in the past for less than that. Is she going to risk that same fate?" The warlock held up a placating hand at Jorah, thankful that she thought he had killed the Raven.
"Are you threatening us?"
"Just letting you know what situation you're in right now."
"Then you should know that I did the right thing. And it's something I would gladly do again. Jon argued against it vehemently but I showed him what was going on. He was not your brother. Not anymore." He could see her getting angrier, not accepting his words.
"Bruda." They turned around as they say the other door open, Daenerys standing in it, looking at Sansa carefully. "You do not need to defend your actions. That task is down to me, seeing as I am the one Lady Stark wants to talk to." She moved to the side, signalling that Sansa could come in, which she did with a cautious look at the others. Jorah moved to follow her but Daenerys placed a hand on his chest to stop him, giving him a reassuring smile. "This needs to be done between the two of us alone." She closed the door behind her and slowly stepped into her room. A small round table was in the middle of it, which Sansa was currently standing awkwardly next to. "Please sit," Daenerys said, gesturing to one of two chairs placed by its sides. "Would you like a drink of some sort?" Sansa shook her head in the negative. The blonde woman poured a hot sweet tea into a small cup, a delicacy that Varys had introduced her to, and sat opposite the younger girl. "You want an explanation of events that took place in your absence. And you rightly deserve the answers you seek." Sansa waited patiently. "You were not here to see what happened in the war. Dreadful things occurred that even my nightmares would never concoct."
"I can only imagine."
"And, after the battle, we discovered that your brother was the reason why the Night King attacked us. You knew that Bran was different after he became the Three-Eyed Raven. You have to view his actions as if he were someone else, which he truly was in the end. The Raven before him was in league with the Night King and he carried that on."
"And what proof do you have of this?"
"The kind that is almost impossible to explain. Magic. Bruda showed us. And I trust him completely. But, even if you don't believe me, then you only have to look at his actions when we confronted him. He attacked us. Would have killed us if Bruda and Jorah hadn't intervened. You would have seen the damage to the outer walls." Sansa couldn't believe Bran would do such a thing. She sat in silence, contemplating Daenerys' words. "I feel that I and you are so alike and, yet, I sense a tension between us. Why?"
"My brother." She wasn't talking about Bran this time. "Jon. He loves you." Daenerys wore a surprised expression. "Don't act like you didn't know. He is just like every other man, falling at your feet in the hope of making you smile. Men do stupid things for a woman like you." Daenerys tried not to be insulted by her insinuations.
"I care for Jon." Sansa's eyebrow quirked in question. "My one and only goal has been to win the Iron Throne. But I came here to help him. I fought a battle, lost men...when I didn't have to. Surely that shows how high a regard I place him."
"And what about Tyrion? I need to know that he is treated well. He always gave me the utmost respect." Daenerys smiled warmly.
"He is one of my most valuable advisors. He is one of the main reasons why I have a chance of taking back the Throne from those who stole it from my family. He will be protected once I rule. And it will not be long now. But I must know that any tension between us has been resolved."
"That all depends on the North."
"What do you mean?"
"It was taken from us. And now we have it back. And I don't see us bending once again to the will of another person. Not even you."
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Sansa's emergence from Daenerys' room startled the three men who had been waiting patiently outside. Jon began to speak but the young woman, wearing a neutral expression, simply stalked out of the room without uttering a single word. They turned to the open door, staring at Daenerys, who had emerged shortly after her. She had a scowl on her face which worried them greatly. The last thing they needed was for her to be in a dangerous mood, especially when her plans were in such an important stage. They would be meeting Olenna Tyrell in the space of a few days. They needed that discussion to go better than the one that had just happened, judging by her facial expression. She looked at Jon, searching his eyes. Had Sansa told the truth about his feelings? It had come as a surprise to her since they had hardly spent any time alone together. But Sansa had said that was her form of magic, something completely different to the sort Bruda possessed. If her mood hadn't been so sour, she might have enjoyed the thought of the jealous reaction it would all prompt out from Jorah. Maybe even Bruda.
"You're not joining us, are you Jon? When we leave tomorrow." He bowed his head, not seeing the confused looks on the other men's faces. He tried to find the words to formulate a response.
"No, Your Grace. Tormund, on behalf of the wildlings, asked me to help lead them. I could not turn him down after what we have been through." Daenerys, despite her feelings, smiled slightly. He always tried to be so noble from what she had seen.
"I can't say I'm not disappointed. You have proven your worth since I met you."
"That is high praise indeed. But I fear I would not have been much use to you after you sit on the Throne, which I'm sure you will. I'd only be another sword and you already have plenty of those. They need me more."
"Well, you can visit whenever you want," Bruda said, sending him a rare smile. They had often been at odds with one another but he couldn't fault what the lad stood for.
"And I'm sure you will prove to be an excellent leader."
"I've learnt from the best. You and Mance." His smile dropped slightly as he thought of his somewhat mentor.
"Yet, I fear without your presence here, your sister won't be able to cope with the demands of ruling. She is a powerful young woman but one who needs to learn the extent of her power."
"What did she say?" Jorah asked fearfully.
"She wants the North to be independent. She is fearful that, after regaining it so recently, we would effectively take it back by ruling over it. Despite it surviving just fine these past centuries."
"That's preposterous," Jorah exclaimed. "I doubt she would get support from the nearby noble families if she put it forward. They know they rely on the Crown for a lot of their basic necessities."
"I don't know," Bruda said. "Dangle that carrot in front of a hungry man, the ability to run your own life for the first time in generations. I bet many of them will side with her."
"It is just another obstacle for me to overcome," Daenerys sighed. "But I have managed to deal with worse than a petulant child who hasn't grown up yet."
"She's more capable than you think," Jon countered, defending his sister. "She's been through a lot. Abusive relationships, losing loved ones, physical torture." Daenerys' nostrils flared at his defiance.
"And it pales in comparison to what I have been through," she barked. "I will not let her stand in my way. She doesn't even have control of the region yet. Stannis effectively does for the time being. Meaning her efforts will be delayed."
"So you don't need to worry about this until you have won the Throne," Bruda assured her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She regained her composure and smiled back at the old man. She was always thankful he was there.
"That's true."
"If you don't mind, Your Grace," Jon interrupted. "We're leaving later this evening and I need to sort out some last-minute things before I go. Is it alright if I'm excused?" She nodded her head and he moved towards the door.
"Jon," she said, halting him. "It has been a pleasure."
"The same to you. I'm sure this won't be the last you see of me." And, with that, he walked out of the room, preparing for his next journey. Daenerys sat down in a nearby chair.
"Are you okay, Khaleesi?" Jorah asked her.
"All I have ever wanted is to take what is owed to me. To destroy those who ruin this kingdom with their selfishness and greed. And now people who I thought were like me turn out to be against me. It just makes me question the ideas I have had in my head since I was a small child."
"Not all your enemies will be the archetypal fat, white man who lives in a tower above the people he rules over," Bruda remarked. "There are many people in this kingdom who are perfectly fine with things staying as they are. And it can be confusing. All you have to do is show them that you can bring a better, fairer world to fruition. Which I know you can do." She reluctantly nodded her head, prompting a tendril of blonde hair to fall out of place. The warlock knelt by her side and delicately moved it behind her ear. "Sansa is by no means your enemy yet. There is still time for you to forge a relationship with her which could see you work together. The North is an important political ally. You fought by their side. People don't tend to forget these sort of things."
"But only worry about that when your primary goal is achieved," Jorah told her. "The Throne is within sight. You have never been closer. The kingdom has never been closer to the bright future you can bring."
"Let that future shine bright," Bruda finished with a wink and a grin.
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Everyone was now ready. A cold sun was looking over the courtyard as the final preparations were made. A legion of horses were waiting outside the castle gates with many soldiers sitting on them. Banners bearing the sigils of Targaryen and Baratheon, as well as some smaller Northern houses and the Greyjoy badge. That was despite their two leaders falling in the battle against the White Walkers. There were murmurings throughout the camps that the presence of Euron Greyjoy in the capital could pose a threat to Daenerys simply because he could sway those remaining soldiers back to his side. An attack from within would probably prove to be fatal, Bruda had sagely warned her, so, when they reached King's Landing, that portion of the army would be towards the front of their battalion so that they could look out for any surprises.
Despite that, there was a quiet confidence growing amongst their ranks. After putting Sansa's words to the back of her head, Daenerys had spent the evening strategising with her council, only taking a break to see off the large party of wildlings and Night's Watch members who were leaving for the Wall. She had given Jon a polite hug, ignoring the angry glare from his sister, before he got upon his stallion. Sandor Clegane had come up beside him, warily looking at Tormund and Ghost on his other side. She had later been told that the Hound had chosen to follow the young Snow, knowing he would be a useful asset up in the wilderness. After their departure, the castle grounds had appeared strangely empty and quiet despite there being many soldiers still living in the camps nearby. As the stars began to appear in the inky black sky, Daenerys had joined Jorah, Bruda and Davos outside as they sat around a fire, simply discussing their lives. The warlock had spun many a tale, most of which she doubted were true but they were still entertaining enough. She had been interested to learn about Davos' past life, listening intently as he talked about a particularly daring adventure he had been on to smuggle a chest of golden brooches into one of the Free Cities. The story had ended with him fleeing for his ship as he wore one such piece of jewellery on his cloak. Yet her favourite part of the evening had been snuggling up to Jorah as he recounted stories from his childhood on Bear Island. He had spoken with a candour she had rarely seen in him as he reminisced. The night had gone far too quickly for her liking.
A surprisingly relaxing sleep had brought her to this point, where she surveyed the goings-on as Bruda sidled up next to her. Crates of weapons were being loaded into wooden carts as men made their last checks that they had everything they needed. Davos was handing out pieces of bread and some form of food to the soldiers and she noticed him pick up a particularly large piece for Shireen as she ambled over. She smiled as he ruffled her head, the look of disgust evident on the young girl's face, before she hurried over to the horse that her mother was on, next to Stannis. She would be riding on it safely in front of Selyse. She noted how Melisandre was looking over at the warlock by her side as she waited on her own horse. Daenerys gave the clueless old man a soft nudge, alerting him to what was going on. He gave her an energetic wave and a large smile, which made both women laugh. It was strange to see the Red Woman display such emotion in public but that was the effect Bruda had on her.
As horses began to move through the castle gates, Jorah walked over to them, closely followed by Davos, who had finished his job. Daenerys greeted them with a smile, Bruda a nod of the head. She didn't show the emotions whirling through her head as she tried to grapple with the fact she was getting closer to her ultimate goal but the action of Jorah placing a hand on her shoulder signalled that he could tell what she was going through. It was a talent he had shown constantly throughout their relationship, even when he was merely her soldier, and she thanked the gods every evening for his gift.
"All the resources have been packed away," Davos said. "We're now ready to leave. Just awaiting your orders, Your Grace." She was too busy watching some Dothraki men galloping around, whooping and shouting as the taste of battle grew strong once more. She was thankful that some had survived the previous war; their tactics would be like nothing seen in the kingdom, which meant other armies wouldn't be able to deal with them. She was hoping their reputation preceded them and struck fear into their enemies' hearts. That was if it even came to a battle. Jorah was still hopeful little blood would be spilt. He looked at her with kind eyes.
"Your horse is ready, Khaleesi. We're hoping it will be an easy journey to Highgarden. Olenna Tyrell will make sure that easy passage is guaranteed. But our number is so great, we should not be troubled by anyone as we march."
"That won't be a problem," she said as they walked outside the walls of Winterfell for the last time into the open space. She looked up to the sky. "I won't be needing my horse. And neither will you." He looked at her in confusion. A roar from above could be heard, followed by another three. Drogon, Rhaegal, Viserion and Hidebyo soared over their heads, prompting many of the horses to rear up in fright. The soldiers moved out of the way as the beasts landed, flapping their wings and sending gusts of wind flying at them. She walked over to Drogon who showed his large sharp teeth in a sinister snarl as if he were telling them he was ready for their next adventure. "We shall fly."