Wow… 700 favourites means that in just over half the chapters this story is only a handful away from becoming my most favourited story on this site! A truly incredible achievement, thank you to each and every one of you!
Last chapter was a big one, and now we begin to deal with the consequences of what happened.
We also meet Willas Tyrell. Personally, I have fancast a longer haired Jay Baruchel as Willas, but if you don't like that then just a fairly tall, skinny man will do.
As always, I own nothing but Durran and the other OC's. Everything else belongs to either HBO or George R R Martin.
Gendry had never been one to sleep easily. He always found the sound of hammering steel soothing, and so whenever the bustle of King's Landing got too much for the apprentice he found himself back in the shop continuing his work. The same was happening at Castle Black, as the new knight was woken by the howling of a wolf.
Putting on his thick, black cloak Gendry made his way down to the anvils, but the howling grew even louder. Cursing, Gendry looked in the direction of the noise, only to see bodies on the floor across the courtyard.
"Fuck!" Gendry cried, as he grabbed his Father's Warhammer and ran over to the corpses. He didn't recognise many of them, but the First Builder was on the floor, his guts outside of his body, and the Lord Commander was lying on his back littered with stab wounds, with so much blood pooling around him it was melting the snow.
More footsteps could be heard behind him, as well as a few voices crying out that it was the Lord Commander. Jon Snow's friend Grenn was the first to halt beside him.
"Jon…" He gasped, before turning to Gendry and gripping him by the cloak. "What happened?" He demanded to know.
"I don't know… I just found them like this!" Gendry insisted.
"We have to move him." A ginger man said calmly. "He cannot stay here."
"What happened though?" Grenn repeated the question.
Ed Tollett clenched his teeth, snarling. "Thorne. It has to be."
"We need to move." The ginger said once more. "To Lord Snow's chambers."
Gendry agreed, motioning to Grenn to pick up Jon's legs. The two strong men hoisted Jon up and quickly made their way into the Lord Commander's chamber, clearing the desk quickly and placing Jon's body onto it. Ed bolted the door with a wooden plank.
"He'll pay for this." Ed growled. "Thorne will pay."
"The wolf." Gendry said. "We need the wolf. King Durran told me how formidable Lord Stark's was. If it comes to a fight, we need the wolf."
"I'll go." Grenn nodded, picking up the keys from the floor. He gave one last look at Jon before unsheathing his sword, allowing some of the loyal Night's Watch members to open the door and quickly lock it behind him.
"I'll kill him for this." Ed snarled again. "And his lackeys. All of them."
"Who else can we trust?" Gendry asked. Ed scoffed.
"Trust?" He looked around. "The men in this room. Perhaps Donal Noye."
"He's crippled, we shouldn't involve him." Gendry sighed. He counted the other men in the room. "7 men against Thorne and the rest of Castle Black. I don't like those odds."
Ed laughed bitterly. "We won't live beyond tonight, we're in the wrong room for that. We fight though, and we take Thorne and as many of those cunts that murdered Jon with us."
"A brave plan, but foolish." The ginger said.
Ed narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"
"A friend. I swear." The man said, holding his hands up. "But who else owe their lives to Jon Snow? We don't have to die when we can have the larger numbers."
"The Wildlings." Ed nodded, understanding.
"We need to act fast." The ginger said. "Thorne won't be content without Jon's body."
Ed nodded. "Keep him safe until I'm back." He told the others. They all agreed, and Ed was the next man to leave before the door was bolted shut.
Gendry gripped his hammer tighter as the reality of the situation settled in. He looked over at Jon's body, and felt bile rise to his throat at the number of holes in his armour. The ginger brother was staring down at the body as well, seemingly chanting something in a language that Gendry didn't understand. "What are you doing?" Gendry asked.
"Praying." Was the only response.
305 AC
Staring into the gardens of the Red Keep from his Mother's chambers, Durran was keeping a close eye on Myrcella taking a walk with her betrothed. Edric Dayne had arrived in the capital the day before to report that Dorne was as pacified as it was ever going to get, and to request the wedding be soon. Durran could only agree, seeing no reason now to delay.
"She won't be welcome down in Dorne." His Mother's voice came from behind him. Durran scoffed. "Go on Elaenor, go to your Father." She said to the Princess. The 17-month-old child came running up to Durran, who excitedly picked her up.
"She will be loved by all, look at her now." Durran said to Cersei while giving Elaenor his glove to play with. "The pair get on well."
They both looked down to see Myrcella show off a small smile at Edric's words. "I still don't like it." Cersei complained. "She's my daughter…"
"And I'm your son, you didn't like me marrying Dany but here you are, in love with your grandchild by that marriage." Durran grinned at Elaenor. "Your grandmother loves you, doesn't she!" He said childishly to his daughter.
"Gramma!" Elaenor exclaimed happily, causing Durran to chuckle.
"Yes." Durran nodded, looking back down at the betrothed couple. "Times are changing. Myrcella will be married after the baby is born to secure Dorne and give an alliance that House Dayne needs, Tommen is the Lord of Casterly Rock and will also soon be wed. You need to let us all grow eventually, Mother."
Cersei shook her head. "You won't be saying that when Elaenor is due to go North, or the child on its way is betrothed."
"Then I'm sure you'll remind me of this very conversation." Durran grinned again.
Elaenor was growing slightly restless in his arms. "Mama?" She asked Durran.
"Mama is with the baby. You remember Rhaena?" Durran asked her. Elaenor thought for a moment and nodded. "She's very small and Mama needs to look after her. We can go and surprise her if you want?" Elaenor let out a large squeal of excitement and nodded. Durran put her down and held a couple of fingers out for her to hold before looking back at Cersei and saying one last thing. "Myrcella is almost 15 now, I was married before then. She's ready."
He walked off slowly, allowing for Elaenor's still shaky legs to lead him away, leaving Cersei to ponder on how fast her children were growing up. She looked out at Myrcella once more and felt only pain at how happy she looked.
Later that evening Durran found himself in his chambers signing documents once more. A knock at the door interrupted him, as Ser Podrick opened the door.
"The Princess Myrcella to see you, Your Grace." The Kingsguard knight announced.
"Thank you, Podrick. Send her in." Durran said, not taking his eyes off of a document. He noticed his sister dressed in a rich lilac dress daintily walk in and sit herself down at the other side of the desk. Durran waited a second and stamped his black stag seal on the bottom of a decree to disperse more food to the North as soon as Sansa Stark was wed to Willas Tyrell. "Our Grandfather would often do this when he received visitors to assert his dominance, he would sit and do his work while his guest was sat in front of him, getting more nervous as time would pass." Durran explained. He threw the paper back onto the desk and smirked at his sister. "I cannot thank the Seven enough that I'm not like he was."
"Durran!" Myrcella exclaimed, scandalised. "Can you talk about the dead that way?"
"The dead can't hear us." Durran shrugged. "It's the living that matter."
Myrcella giggled. "You called for me?" Durran nodded, pouring Myrcella a small wine. "Mother doesn't let me drink unless it's a feast…"
"Mother isn't here." Durran told her. "It's only one cup, and you're soon to be a married woman."
Myrcella nodded, taking the goblet and having a tiny sip. "Edric and I had a lovely walk earlier. He was telling me all about Starfall. It sounds so beautiful!"
Durran smiled at how happy she sounded. "From what I hear it is, and your future sons could become as famous as Ser Arthur, or Ser Ulrick Dayne, or any of the Swords of the Morning. As soon as I heard about Dawn I wanted to wield it for years as a child." He admitted. "I know it's arranged, but I really do hope you'll be happy there."
Myrcella nodded. "I think I will be. Edric has been telling me lots about Dorne and their customs. While it's… strange… I think I'll be a good Lady."
Durran grinned and walked over to hug Myrcella. "You'll be excellent." He told her.
Blushing, Myrcella tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and asked. "When will the wedding be?"
"We'll start planning it soon after the baby is born." Durran explained. "Edric will have to go back to Dorne in the meantime, but I promise it won't be long." Myrcella looked happy at the news, and that made Durran laugh a bit more. "I remember when you were obsessing over Robb Stark, and now look at you."
"I didn't obsess over him." Myrcella rolled her eyes. "He was handsome is all. As is Edric."
Durran just smirked. "Anyway, as to why I've brought you here. Tommen has written to us all; the rider came this afternoon."
Myrcella's eyes lit up. "Really? How is he?"
Durran handed over her letter. "He's fine, can you believe he's met a girl he likes?"
She couldn't. "What?" She asked, tearing into her letter. Durran let her read it as he stamped his seal on another letter, this one about a new tariff to be enforced at the docks. "Lyla Crakehall?"
"Lord Roland's granddaughter." Durran shrugged. "Ser Daven tells me that she has been spending time with him at Casterly Rock and that they now share a cat."
"Of course the way to his heart is through a cat." Myrcella groaned. "He does seem happy though…"
Durran nodded. "Daven is holding off on a betrothal for now until he can gain our opinion on it, but he will be my Warden of the West in a few years and I can't force him to do anything. Just do me one favour."
"Anything."
Durran grimaced. "Don't tell Mother. She'll fly into a rage that will make Dārys seem like a puppy."
The road to Highgarden had been long, but Sansa was excited to see the beauty of Highgarden as the Stark and Tully party rode up the hill that the castle was built upon. They entered the ornate gates to find a large procession waiting for them, reminiscent of the one that Winterfell showed for King Robert all those years ago. The main Tyrell family were stood out in front, with Lord Mace puffing his chest out proudly.
Sansa and her Mother dismounted their horses and walked up to the procession, leaving Edmure and the rest of the party to sort out the horses as they met Sansa's future family.
"Lady Sansa, Lady Catelyn. Welcome to Highgarden." Mace said proudly.
"It's our pleasure to be here, Lord Tyrell." Cat said politely.
"May I introduce my nephew, Willas." Mace said, pointing out the man stood next to him. Willas Tyrell. Sansa looked over at her betrothed, and saw a tall, skinny man dressed in fine emerald silk clothing. His cane was deeply decorated in golden stems, clearly designed to flaunt the House's wealth. Sansa stepped forward and curtseyed.
"My Lord." She said politely. "I hope I am not a disappointment to you."
Willas smiled, leaning on his cane. "My Lady, you are a true beauty. It is I who would seem the disappointment I am sure."
"Not at all, My Lord." Sansa smiled shyly. They smiled at one another for a few moments before some coughing was heard.
"Yes, yes. Now that the two have met can we get on with it." Lady Olenna Tyrell grumbled. "I'm too old to be standing outside for so long."
Mace looked outraged at his Mother's outburst, but a female voice that Sansa was delighted to hear spoke up too. "Yes, Grandmother is right Father. Lyonel could do with some refreshments as it is and I'm sure our guests are hungry."
Mace nodded. "Very well. Lady Stark, Lady Sansa. Lord Tully. Allow me to welcome you to Highgarden once more and I shall have you shown to your chambers. We shall feast in an hour!" He cried excitedly.
The crowd began dispersing, and Margaery herself came and greeted Sansa properly afterwards. "It is so good to see you again!" Margaery beamed.
"And you, My Lady. A wife and a Mother since we last met." Sansa giggled. "We have lots to catch up on."
"And plenty of time tonight to do so." Margaery smiled. "Thank you for agreeing to wed tomorrow. I understand how overwhelming it must be having only just arrived, but with Loras and Garlan both passing so suddenly… Father feels it best to not wait."
Sansa nodded, nerves appearing in her mind, although she masked it well. "From your words about Lord Willas I'm eager to be wed to him."
Margaery grinned once again. "As he is to you. I shouldn't tell you this, but he wasn't sure that this day would ever come after his injury. It does leave him quite immobile most of the time."
Sansa felt bad for him. "Does it pain him?"
Margaery nodded. "Yes, my cousin often locks himself in the library or the falconry for days in order to limit is movement."
There had been one question that Sansa had been too afraid to ask her Mother, and as Margaery and Sansa walked on ahead of the others in the bridal party, Sansa built up the courage to ask. "Does that mean he can't bed me?" She whispered.
Margaery grinned, feigning embarrassment. "Sansa!" She whispered. "That's not very ladylike!"
"I'd just like to know what to expect." Sansa grinned innocently.
Margaery laughed. "A few years after his accident, I remember Grandmother asking me to summon him. I went to his rooms and Willas was rather intimate with his own hands… You won't be dissatisfied I can assure you, although you may have to be the more active in the bedroom."
Sansa began to glow crimson as the thoughts flew through her mind. She knew what to expect and the different ways she could please her future husband thanks to conversations with Roslin before she left, but to speak so brazenly with her betrothed's family was a new thrill for her.
Margaery soon halted and pointed to a number of doors. "You have been allocated this wing for yourself and your guests. Tomorrow though you'll sleep in the heir's chamber, and you'll truly be family!" Margaery said excited. "I must see to my son now, but I'll see you soon for the feast."
Sansa nodded, hugging her friend once more before she was left alone in the room with Lady, who was now getting to be rather big. Sitting on the bed and taking a deep breath, Sansa patted the sheets to allow Lady to jump up, and the Stark girl cuddled into her wolf, readying herself for the coming days.
The wedding breakfast had been long and filled with ornate gifts given to Sansa by various members of Reach nobility, receiving things like a beautiful horse from House Appleton, ten crates of the Arbor's finest red wine from House Redwyne, and the Shield Island Lords had even gathered together to build Sansa a modest ship. Not eating a great deal due to nerves, she felt slightly hungry as she stood next to her uncle Edmure ready to enter the Rose Sept. Her dress trailed behind her, with blue winter roses decorating the fine white silk. A light Direwolf head merging into the flowers along her back, a true declaration of Sansa's changing name.
Holy music flared louder and Edmure looked down at her, her uncle giving her away on behalf of Robb. "Are you ready?" He asked.
Sansa sighed. "Not really, but I'll do my duty." She said quietly. Edmure smiled sadly and patted her hand linked with his arm.
"It will be over soon, and hopefully Willas can give you some sons and daughters to love and make your time hear easier." Edmure said, trying to be helpful. Sansa nodded, and the pair walked into the large sept.
It was crammed with fancily dressed Lords and Ladies, as the nobility of the reach all wished to catch a glimpse of their future Lord and Lady. Sansa noticed her Mother at the front and gave her a small smile as she passed, before allowing Edmure to hand her over to Willas, who was doing without his cane for the occasion.
"Aren't you in pain?" Sansa whispered lightly, as the Septon continued his prayers.
"Considerably." Willas grimaced. "But I want to be wed to you as a man, not a cripple." Sansa respected that and gave him a large smile to show that.
"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." The Septon called out for Willas. He nodded, undoing his extravagant Tyrell cloak from his back. Sansa decided to make things easier for him, and turned her back on him, stepping backwards so he didn't need to move. Feeling the heavy object upon her shoulders, Sansa turned around again and saw Willas mouth his thanks to her as the Septon continued with the ritual.
"My Lord, My Ladies. We stand here tonight in the sight of Gods and men to witness the union of an and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul. Now and forever."
Sansa held her hand out and rested it on top of Willas' own outstretched hand, allowing the Septon to loosely wrap a green and gold ribbon around the pair of them. "Let it be known that Sansa, of House Stark, and Willas, of House Tyrell, are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder. In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity." The Septon cried, unwrapping the ribbon. "Look upon each other and say the words."
This was it, thought Sansa. "Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger." She began. "I am his, and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days."
And with that it was done. Applause thundered through the room as Willas was brought his cane. Sansa took his arm graciously as the newly wedded couple walked through the crowd slowly, making their way through to the gardens where the feast was to be held.
Robb sat at the high table, with Maester Luwin to his left as the petitioners were being seen to in turn. His mind was elsewhere as the smallfolk came asking for more space in the Wintertown, builders to rebuild some of the houses that had been left in disrepair over the long summer and all manner of things that required his attention. The day dragged on, and finally Robb was told that there was only one more petitioner left. Scratching Grey Wind behind the ears as the Direwolf lounged beneath the table, he sent for the last one to come in.
Smalljon Umber was escorted in, and Robb sat straight, his eyes staring at a man he had fought beside countless times. "Smalljon, I did not expect you in Winterfell." He said in his Lord's voice.
"I did not expect to need to come here, My Lord." The Smalljon replied darkly. "But here I am, stood before you."
"Well, what is it?" Robb asked.
"I followed you into battle in the South." The Smalljon began. "It was my duty, and I was happy to do so for your Father. I followed you to the Whispering Wood, to Riverrun, all the way down to Hayford and fought at your side many times."
"And for that I shall be forever grateful." Robb told him.
The Smalljon nodded. "And then, once the treaty was signed and we came back home, I followed you up to the Wall to fight the Wildling's that were invading. I fought a fucking giant because you asked me to hold the Wall."
Robb remembered, but didn't see where this was going. "Is there a point to this reminiscing?"
"Aye." The Smalljon said. "Umbers have been dealing with the Wildling raids for centuries. We're the furthest North so they hit us first, and we've been killing them for centuries. We're good at it. Now, after we fought and bled at the Wall against them, your brother has let them all through the gates to settle near our lands, ready to take our women and kill the rest of us! I ask you to say no. Protect your lands, your people and fight back. Drive the cunts back to where they belong."
Robb leant forwards, resting his elbows on the table. "Has your Father not spoken about what's coming? He told me all the same things you're telling me now, and I made it very clear to him why this is happening. Death marches on the Wall and the only way to stop them is to band together. Northerners, Southerners, Wildlings, the Night's Watch. All of us as one big army to drive away the coming Winter. Winter is Coming, it's been our words since Brandon the Builder helped to stop the Long Night and founded House Stark because it's a warning to the future that the dead will come back. Well now they're here."
"The Wildlings cannot be trusted!" The Smalljon was growing angry. "They'll kill us all if they could."
Robb shrugged. "Perhaps that's true, Wildlings have been a plague on the North for millennia. But now we are working as one because there's a higher threat than our petty squabbles."
"Petty?" The Smalljon asked, incensed.
"Aye, petty." Robb said firmly. "It doesn't matter who lives where, or who killed who's uncle years ago. Those things were troubles of the past. Now the only thing that matters is survival against the coming storm. Banding together in the face of the darkness. Apart we are weak."
"My Lord…" The Smalljon began, but Robb held his arm up to silence him.
"I appreciate your concern, but my decision is final." Robb said firmly. "The only problem left is what to do with you and your friend." The Smalljon looked baffled, as Robb nodded to his guard on the door. He left for a brief moment before in came two men with a tied up and bloodied Ramsay Snow. The door was quickly bolted shut as Stark soldiers surrounded the Smalljon, subduing him to his knees before Robb. The Warden of the North stood up and walked around the table to stand in front of the Smalljon, looking down at him with rage. "You come here, you flatter me with our history and our friendship while conspiring behind my back with the Bastard of Bolton to overthrow me if things didn't go your way?"
The Smalljon looked at Ramsay angrily, before attempting to shrug off his captors and failing. Looking back up at Robb he said. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Robb laughed darkly. "You don't? Lord Bolton can help remind you if you like."
Out of the shadows behind Robb stepped the pale, Lord of the Dreadfort, who came up to stand by Robb's side. "Lord Stark." He nodded.
"Lord Bolton." Robb returned the courtesy. "Please, tell Smalljon Giantsbane what you told me before."
Roose Bolton looked down at the large heir to Last Hearth. "I explained that Jon Umber, heir to Last Hearth had petitioned me to start a rebellion against House Stark in defiance of your decision to let the Wildling's settle peacefully. I also explained that I had arrested him and was about to send word of this plot to Winterfell when I was told that he had escaped my dungeons with the bastard and I knew I had to come and tell you in person."
"What else." Robb demanded, pure fury in his eyes as he looked down at the Smalljon.
"I told you that he threatened to use leverage against you in the shape of your youngest brother, Rickon Stark, who he had kidnapped from the safety of his castle where Rickon had gone in good faith that he would be kept safe from any invading forces." Roose explained.
Robb allowed the accusation to hang heavy as Grey Wind got up from beneath the table and began growling menacingly at the captives. "You used my brother as a bargaining chip because of your hatred for the Wildlings. You kidnapped my brother to try and force me to go against what is best for my people and do as you wanted!"
"Lies." The Smalljon protested, but Robb backhanded him fiercely around the cheek.
"YOU DARE!" Robb roared. "YOU DARE USE MY OWN FAMILY AGAINST ME! I AM YOUR LIEGE LORD!"
"Lord Stark." Luwin whispered, and Robb started breathing deeply to calm himself down.
"Jon Umber. Ramsay Snow." Robb began, spitting venomously. "For the crime of treason, I hereby sentence you to die. Take them both away."
The Smalljon was stunned, but Ramsay began to argue. "You can't! We did nothing! Father!"
Roose just looked at the man coldly. "You are no son of mine." He told Ramsay chillingly, and all fight went out of the bastard. The two men were dragged away to the dungeons, as Robb was left to deal with his blood running hot. Roose Bolton walked up to him. "It is the right decision, Lord Stark."
"I know." Robb sighed. "Jon was my friend, and then Ramsay is your son…"
"Ramsay is an illborn monster." Roose admitted. "Do you remember my firstborn, Domeric?"
Robb nodded. "He died a few years back."
"I could never prove it, but I know Ramsay was involved." Roose explained. "He wanted power, he hated his lot in life and tried to ensure I had no other heirs to choose from. I kept him around in case of course, as I was expected to do as the last of my House, but now with Walda being pregnant and it being proved that Ramsay was involved in treason, this decision helps the both of us. Lord Umber will need to be made aware however."
Robb ran his hand through his hair. "Aye… I'll write to him tonight. Thank you, Lord Bolton, for bringing this to my attention. Your loyalty in these times means a lot. I know how difficult the situation is for all of the North."
"We beat the monsters back once before, Lord Stark." Bolton told him. "We shall do it again."
It took four hours for Thorne to try and persuade them to open the door, and then another twelve for him to get so impatient that he had ordered a man to break the door down. Gendry gripped his hammer, ready and waiting to send Thorne to meet the Stranger. Ghost was growling from beside Jon, and Grenn looked ready to hack the entire Wall down if he had to.
The thudding of the hammer on the door continued at a steady pace. "This is it." Grenn said, grinning sadistically. "Let's gut these bastards."
No sooner had he finished his sentence, an even louder thud was heard. And another. And another soon after. "Ed?" Gendry asked.
"Among others." The ginger man said cryptically, just before a loud crash was heard, and the roars of an army filled the castle.
"Attack!" He heard Thorne shout, and Gendry grinned as the Wildling's made themselves known. Swords were clashing, and the Baratheon bastard himself moved the barricade on the door and opened it to let Grenn unleash his fury on the nearest person.
Spilling out into the courtyard, Gendry noticed that the Wildling's had quickly subdued Thorne's followers, as Mance Rayder and a red-haired archer led from the front.
"Who the fuck killed him?" The red head asked angrily. "Tell me!"
"Fucking Wildlings." Thorne stated. "Snow should have killed you all when he could. He needed to be put down." The archer then gave Thorne a glare that sent chills down Gendry's spine before losing an arrow fiercely into Alliser Thorne's skull. It was so fierce a shot that Gendry had to duck himself to miss the arrow as it came rocketing through Thorne's skull and embedded itself into some wood behind him. Thorne dropped to the floor with a thud.
"Anyone else?" The woman roared out, nocking another arrow. If the sight of Thorne's body and the angry archer wasn't enough to make everybody drop their weapons, the giant growling was. Steel clattered to the floor as Ed stepped forwards.
"Lock the traitors in the cells." He scowled, and those that followed Thorne were soon escorted away to the ice cells.
Mance Rayder noticed Gendry and walked up the steps to greet him. "Where is he?" Mance asked, shaking Gendry's hand.
"Through there." Gendry pointed through the door. The woman barged past them all, slamming the door behind her. Gendry was about to go inside as well, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"Best leave her too it. She was his woman." Mance said softly, causing Gendry to blush slightly.
Through the door, Ygritte dropped her bow on the floor at the sight of Jon lying there on the table. A tear dropped from her eye as she slowly walked up to him, Kneeling at the table by Ghost's feet. She took one of his hands and choked at how cold it was.
"You fucking fool." She whispered to him, stroking some of his hair behind his ear. Her hands then moved to some of the wounds on his chest, as more tears fell. "I told you, Jon Snow. I told you we should have stayed in that cave."
Making some room on the table, Ygritte climbed up where there was some space and cuddled into Jon's body, freely letting the tears fall as she mourned for him.
I'll admit, the Durran scenes are filler. The timeline is almost ready for a new Baratheon to be born, but not quite, hence the focus on other parts of the realm for now, but next chapter that will change as we welcome a new baby Baratheon into the story! Any predictions? All I'll say is that the name is one that's been used for a Targaryen but wouldn't look out of place for a Baratheon.
Elsewhere we learn that Roose betrayed his own son to gain the trust of Robb. With House Stark in the place they are, Roose would have been mad to fight them without being sure of the loyalty of all other Houses. So thankfully, Fat Walda and her child won't be eaten by the dogs in this story!
Sansa is also married! I hope I got the girly giggle chat down alright, as a man I'm not really clued up on how that would go down, but I can imagine Sansa being a mix of intrigued and shy about it all.
Then the main part of the chapter, the aftermath of Jon dying and Ygritte going berserk at his killers. Part of the reason she's stayed alive so far was for this chapter, as I always wished I could have seen her reaction to Jon dying in this way. Fingers crossed you all enjoyed it as much as I did!
Thanks for reading and thank you to the six reviewers of the last chapter. I'll see you all next time when Durran's small family gets bigger!
Reviews:
Many Faced Mage: Ygritte is definitely not pregnant!
Freakdogsflare: After your review I sort of wish I could have told Thorne, but I felt Ygritte's angry revenge was far too crucial to show how much she cares for him.
Black Magic99: There might be…
Hail King Cerion: If the baby was a boy I think Durran would have had little choice, but girls don't inherit the Throne by law, so the threat is minimalised. Lords might kick up about her, but Durran's rule at the moment on the mainland is total, and they will never get enough support with the Riverlands, Westerlands, Stormlands and the Reach all now with marriage ties, and Dorne soon to follow. Yeah keeping the news about Jon from Durran will be important, who knows how the Stag will react to the son of his Father's greatest enemy!