Chapter 2 – Reunions
"As soon as we heard about the wall, I called all of our banners to retreat to Winterfell," said Sansa who sat to the right of Jon at the front of the room. "Lord Umber, when can we expect your people to arrive?"
The little lord popped his head out and stood up shyly. "We need more horses and wagons if it please, My Lady…and My Lord…and My Queen…sorry."
"You'll have as many as we can spare. Hurry back to Last Hearth and bring your people here."
"No." Everybody in the room turned their head to see who dared oppose the Lady of Winterfell and to their surprise, it was, the cripple, Bran Stark. "Your people are already on their way to Winterfell. I've arranged ravens and other means as soon as the wall fell. Likewise, with the other houses and Night's Watch that are not with us right now."
"Bran, you can't be making decisions like that without consulting us. How are all those people going to get here without logistic support when the winter roads are in full effect?" said Sansa with a slight rebuking tone.
"If you had sent him back to Last Hearth, he would have died." The room became dead silent as he continued. "His body would have been nailed to a wall, surrounded by the limbs of his bannermen. Then he would have been burned to die a second death."
"Bran!" It was Jon this time that had to stop his brother from going any further; the young Lord Umber was on the brink of tears as he listened to the description of his horrific death and many of the northern lords seemed shaken by his words.
Jon's voice seemed to have stirred him out of his vision as the light in Bran's eyes returned back to the present. "I'm sorry," he said to the boy who was only a few name days younger than him. "I didn't mean to frighten you."
"Well you sure as hell frightened me," said a voice from the other side of the table. The half-man got up from his chair and slowly walked in front of the table so that everyone could see him. "With how scary the White Walkers already are, we don't need to be adding to their numbers. Luckily, if its logistic support you are looking for, we just so happen to have the largest khalasar in the world with us. That should be more than enough to expedite the retreat," said Tyrion as he looked to Daenerys who gave a nod of approval.
"Your Grace!" It was Lyanna Mormont, the young lady of Bear Island, who stood up next. "But you're not, are you? You left Winterfell a king and came back a…I'm not sure what you are now. A lord? Nothing at all?"
"It's not important," said Jon quietly.
"Not important? We named you King in the North. A king's knee should not bend so easily." The rest of the lords in the room agreed in unison as Lady Mormont took her seat.
"You did name me King in the North," said Jon finally. "It was the honor of my life, and I will always be grateful for your faith." He then stood up from his seat as he continued with a hardened tone. "But a king does what's best for his people. Mance Rayder, the King Beyond the Wall, didn't bend his knee and his people were slaughtered for it at Hardhome. I had a choice: keep my crown or protect the North. I chose the North. And I want to make another thing clear, I didn't bend the knee just because she has a great army for even Cersei Lannister has that. No, I bent the knee because I have faith in Daenerys Stormborn, just like how you had faith in me. So I ask you, My Lords, to give her a chance. For she too had a choice: to come to fight with us or to claim the Iron Throne. And she chose us."
With those words said, Jon sat back down as the northern lords' earlier discontentment began to waver. Jon then turned to Sansa and she could see how much he wanted her to trust Daenerys as well, and for a moment, she wished she could go back to be the naïve girl that believed in the good in everybody, but she couldn't. 'Sometimes when I try to understand a person's motives, I play a little game.' She could already hear the voice of Petyr Baelish playing in her head. 'Assume the worst.'
"May I ask, how we meant to feed this great army?" When the words left her mouth, she could see the pain in her brother's eyes, but she too did what she did for the good of the North. "While I ensured that our stores would last through winter, I didn't account for Dothraki, Unsullied and two full-grown dragons. What do dragons eat anyway?"
"Whatever they want," said Daenerys without showing a thing on her face as Sansa turned to face her.
"They eat anything we feed them," said Tyrion quickly as he tried to defuse the situation. "A little bit more on the carnivorous side but that won't be a problem. After our attack on the loot train from High Garden, we managed to recover a substantial amount of food that will arrive shortly from White Harbor." Despite his attempt at creating peace, the two women were still shooting death glares at each other. "So…let's just all be friends…"
'When did being Hand of the Queen become so hard?' thought Tyrion as he looked down at the Winterfell courtyard. It was busy with the last of the dragonglass-filled wagons moving in and people in charge of digging the trenches moving out. He then looked up across the balcony as his eyes caught a glimpse of the radiant red hair that was causing him so much headache right now and decided to confront the problem separately. 'Divide and conquer.'
He walked up to her just as she finished speaking with Yohn Royce, the Lord of Runestone and a powerful bannerman of House Arryn. What he meant to say was 'My Lady,' but what came out of his mouth instead was, "Sansa."
Sansa was slightly startled, curious of who was calling out to her with such familiarity, only to find her first husband standing there before her. Before Tyrion could correct himself, she responded, "Tyrion."
He was glad that she wasn't using any formalities as he knew that was one of her defense mechanisms back at the capital. But apart from that, he was also happy that she used his name as he had asked the night of their wedding. "The Lady of Winterfell has a nice ring to it."
"So does Hand of the Queen…depending on the Queen, I suppose." The last part reminded Tyrion of why he was here. As much as he would like to reminisce about having such a beautiful wife, his purpose here was to perform diplomacy.
"Last time we spoke was at Joffrey's wedding. Miserable affair."
"It had its moments."
Tyrion looked up in surprise and slight shock. "I see you have picked up some of Littlefinger's sense of dark humor."
"It's too bad, I found your jokes a lot funnier," said Sansa as she looked away for a moment. "I'm sorry, for leaving like that."
"Pity, you missed one of the greatest trials in the history of Westeros. The Crown v. Tyrion Lannister." Unfortunately, Tyrion could not keep up the humor for long as he remembered what Shae did. "Though I suppose it was for the best, it ended up being quite a farce."
"Well, we're both still alive."
"Ah yes, thank the gods for keeping me alive long enough to see dead men trying to literally end the world."
'I'm glad you're still alive. The world needs more men like you,' but the words remained stuck in her throat and unsaid. She couldn't afford to show that kind of emotion, that would be weakness and weaknesses are exploited. Instead, what she needed to do now was prop up the position of the North so that when the need arises, they'll be able to reclaim their independence. "The deal with Cersei, you know it'll fall through, right?"
"I'd like to believe that she has something to live for now," said Tyrion as he sighed, "but knowing my sister, yes. She'll most likely renege completely or send the minimum number of troops to appear as if she is still cooperating."
"Why bother even having a deal then?"
"Because on the off chance that she does have a change in heart, we would have won a powerful ally. If she doesn't, then once we win the Great War, the high lords of Westeros will know who the right monarch is. She won't last long on the Throne without any support and the transition into Queen Daenerys' rule will be much smoother."
"And if we lose?"
"Then there's not much use talking about it, is there?"
After a brief pause, Sansa spoke once more, "I assume Queen Daenerys sent you here to talk to me regarding what happened during the meeting earlier."
"It seems you have uncovered my intentions," said Tyrion as he chuckled, "but it wasn't Daenerys that sent me, I wanted to speak to you."
"If it's about not undermining her authority during meetings, then I've already heard a version of it from Jon."
"No, your concerns were more than valid and befitting of a good leader," said Tyrion as he walked a bit closer so that she could no longer avoid looking at him. "I would just like you to consider what your brother has said. That Daenerys would make for a good Queen and that a consolidated realm is beneficial to everyone, including the North."
Sansa considered pointing out all the flaws of such an optimistic outlook, but she decided to hold her tongue, it was best not to antagonize herself too much against Daenerys' party. Noticing the heavy turn the conversation took, Tyrion decided to tell one last joke to end on a lighter note. "Think of your poor husband, how will he ever keep his job if he can't even convince his wife to side with his Queen?"
Even though she didn't want to laugh, his fake sad tone as he pretended to be in distress really sold the performance. Her poker face cracked as she pressed her lips together to suppress the grin. "I'll think on it more," said Sansa as she walked past him to attend to her other duties.
"Thank you for hearing me out and have a nice day, My Lady."
"You too, my dear husband," she said without looking back at the shell-shocked Tyrion. He was so used to his jokes falling flat from hanging out with Varys, Grey Worm and Missandei that he never expected Sansa to play along. Despite achieving his objective, his opponent still somehow managed to leave with the last word that left him feeling outplayed and somewhat awkward.
Jon stood alone in the middle of the Godswood as he meditated quietly. So much has happened in such a short time span and while most of it has been good news with the addition of new allies and the reunion of his family, the threat of the Night King has finally arrived. There are no more walls to hide behind now, their tallest one should have been their biggest advantage but the squabbling of the seven kingdoms has caused it to fall before they were even able to defend it properly against the real threat.
His father, Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, was said to always be able to find solace in this place. But rather than peace, he could only feel more weight on his shoulder. People looked to him for answers that he didn't have, and he didn't know whether he was capable enough to find those answers. His last major decision got himself murdered by his own brothers of the Night's Watch, and while Davos told him to go fail again, he wasn't sure he could afford to do so anymore. His next failure may very well spell the end of the world as they knew it.
"You used to be taller," said a voice behind him, catching him by surprise. He didn't hear any footsteps approach him and his hand went to Longclaw by instinct. But the moment he turned around to see who it was, he could only smile as he saw his baby sister. They quickly shared a tight embrace and once they finally separated, Jon took another look at her. Gone was the wild girl that used to cause so much trouble in their younger days, the person standing in front of him now was a warrior, something Arya always wanted to be.
"You still have it," said Jon as he looked down on the sword he had given her when he left for the Night's Watch.
"Needle," she said as she drew it.
"Have you had to use it?" he asked, knowing what the answer most likely was. He never intended for her to use it as a tool for killing. It was meant as a gift to let her know that he fully supported what she wanted to do with her life, despite how "un-ladylike" it was. He didn't know it then but taking another person's life is an experience that can't be taken back. Some people get a taste of it and it leads them down a dark path, a path he hoped Arya wasn't on.
"Once or twice," she responded. "I followed your advice. I stuck them with the handle, and they went running to the hills."
Jon laughed for the first time in a long time when Arya began jabbing him with Needle's handle. "Where were you before? I could have used your help with Sansa."
"She doesn't like your queen, does she?"
"Sansa thinks she's smarter than everybody else," said Jon with a sigh.
"She's the smartest person I've ever met."
"Eh, you're defending her? You?"
"I'm defending our family…so is she."
"I'm her family too," said Jon with a hint of sadness in his voice.
"Don't forget that," said Arya as she smiled and brought him in for one more hug. "So…the Dragon Queen." The moment she said that she felt her brother stiffen a little as he awkwardly separated from their hug. "Doesn't the Night's Watch make you swear off women or something?"
"Actually, the exact words are 'I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children.'"
"Oh, so you guys aren't having sex or are yo-" Before she could finish, Jon covered her mouth with his gloved hand as he began ushering them back to the keep.
"That's enough from you."
*Author's Note: Thanks for reading and let me know what you guys think of the changes so far!
Guest: Thanks for the review, hope you enjoyed this chapter!
patrickthenobleman: I'll definitely also be watching it until the end, it's just that with two episodes left I simply don't see how they can fix the damage that they've done from a story-telling perspective. In my opinion, subversion of expectations needs to, at least to some degree, make sense (Arya teleporting out of darkness and Dany not seeing Euron's ships while on a dragon are sinful). I also agree that a traditional ending with the focus on the fight between good and evil would be a much better payoff for the seven seasons of buildup than Cersei being the final boss. Anyhow, that's why I wrote this fanfic and I'm glad you are enjoying it so far!