This is just a sort of fun end to the story to show how Dany and Durran's lives went on after the war. New characters are added as children were born, and if anybody is confused then I'll do a family tree for the 8 major houses, but only if I'm asked for one.

For the last time in this story, I don't own anything you recognise, all I could claim ownership to is this Durran Baratheon and his extended family. Everything else is the property of either George R R Martin or HBO.

13 Years Later - 320 AC

A strong wind was assaulting the lavish tent decorated in the gold and black of House Baratheon, as King Durran sat on his bed, eagerly telling a story to two young boys.

"At that moment, Rhaellar roared from above us and your Mother jumped from her back with her sword poised and struck the Night King in the head!" Durran said excitedly, doing the actions for his two sons benefit. "The demon split in two with a roar! And the sun shone once again as all the skeletons in his army crumbled to dust!"

"Yeah!" The youngest of the pair, 8-year-old Aegon Baratheon cheered.

His elder brother by three years also had a huge grin on his face. "What happened then, Father?" Renly asked.

Durran grinned, knowing that what was to come wasn't the truth. "Then, my boy, we partied for what seemed like a whole year! From Winterfell to Starfall the realm was in delight, as the sun shone down on us all."

"But Winter didn't end." Renly reminded him. Durran's grin fell slightly, but he still smiled for his boys.

"No, Winter lasted another seven years. It was tough for all of us, but especially here in the North." Durran told them, becoming more teacher than storyteller. "But while the Starks are always right with their words…"

"Winter is Coming!" Aegon exclaimed, interrupting.

"Yes, Winter is coming." Durran nodded. "But the opposite can also be said. Summer always comes afterwards. You are lucky Egg, you only remember the Summer."

"Are you sure it's Summer here Father?" Renly asked. "It snowed yesterday."

Durran laughed. "Yes it did, because the North is so cold that even in the Summer they get snows."

"It was brilliant." Aegon grinned. "I got Cass with a snowball!"

Durran remembered it being less enthralling, having to ride along with his tearful youngest child after the incident. "And what did Mother tell you after that?" He warned.

"Not to hit family." Aegon dropped his head in shame.

"Good." Durran said, ruffling his youngest son's black, shoulder length hair. "Family is important, and never forget that."

The tent flaps opened then, as Lord Commander Arys Oakheart poked his head through, Durran's longest serving protector having ascended to the role after Ser Barristan's peaceful death 9 years before. "Your Grace, Prince Gowen is here."

"Let him through." Durran nodded, standing up and picking up his thick, black wolfskin coat, a gift from the North for his latest nameday. Soon Durran's second eldest son entered the tent, dressed in a striking black doublet with the gold of his Father's house and the red of his Mother's detailing the garment. "Father, Mother is getting impatient."

Durran nodded, turning to his younger sons. "Where are your cloaks?"

Renly had his beside him, but Aegon looked around sharply, not finding it. Gowen shook his head and held it out for him. "Here, Egg. You left it on your pony again."

Aegon quickly got up and took the cloak, quietly thanking his elder brother. "Come on then boys, we'll be at Winterfell by noon if we hurry."

Egg grinned. "I'll race you!" He exclaimed towards his brothers before he rushed out of the tent. Renly just sighed and walked out slowly, groaning as Gowen grabbed him in a brotherly headlock and ruffled his hair. Durran grinned, strapping the cloak to his back and then putting on his sword belt. He caught a glance in the Myrish glass on a table and stroked his greying beard before leaving the warmth of the tent, being assaulted by the wind.

"You can go and prepare your horse if you like Arys." Durran told his long-time friend. "I'll be safe with the Queen."

"Of course, Your Grace." Arys bowed his head. "I still say we should have given that dragon the white cloak."

Durran chuckled. "You can try pinning it if you're brave enough old friend."

Arys grinned before bowing and taking his leave, as Durran walked beyond the quickly established camp to where the horses were being prepared. Soon enough he was weighed down as a black-haired girl clung to his shins. "Father!" She cried.

Durran smiled, and leant down to pick up his eldest daughter, Naerys. "Where did you come running from?" Durran asked as he brought her up to face level.

"Cassie was taking forever to get dressed so I escaped." Naerys grinned, one of her front teeth was missing however and it made for an amusing sight. "So I came to see you!"

Shaking his head, he placed a kiss on her cheek. "You shouldn't run off like that. Your Mother will be worried if she doesn't know where you are."

Naerys nodded, placing her head in his neck. "Sorry Father." She whispered. Durran saw where his wife and youngest child were preparing their horses, and so Durran walked over and placed Naerys on the ground.

"There you are!" Dany cried, looking at the six-year-old. "I thought you'd been eaten by a Direwolf!"

Naerys shook her head, but little Cassana's eyes widened. "They aren't real, are they mama?" The five-year-old asked softly.

"Oh yes." Durran told her, helping her onto her pony. "Lord Stark has one the size of Muttons here." He said, patting the pony. "But Grey Wind, is very nice." He moved back towards where Daenerys was mounting her horse and stood beside her as she settled herself. "Have you got them both or do you want me to send Pod down with you?" He asked, knowing that Naerys especially was likely to go roaming.

"I've got them." Dany told him. "Go on, we can't leave until you're ready and I'm eager to feel those hot springs again."

Nodding, Durran turned away to where his horse had been prepared for him. Mounting up, he looked behind him where his wife, 5 of his children, 4 of his Kingsguard and the rest of his retinue that weren't packing up the camp were all mounted. He turned back Northwards and kicked his horse off into a steady walk.

They had ridden up the Kingsroad when Durran fell into line with his wife. Aegon and Naerys had raced off ahead, with Gowen riding beside them keeping them from going too far. "Any word from home this morning?" Dany asked.

Durran nodded. "Stefan sent this to Castle Cerwyn." He said, reaching inside his own doublet for a raven message. "He had to speak to Duncan about his dalliance with your niece."

Dany groaned. "He's not dishonoured her, has he?"

"No." Durran said, feeling as relieved as Dany looked. "But it seems he's struggling to wait until next year to marry Rhaena."

"He'll have to." Dany said firmly.

"Stefan has it under control." Durran said calmly. His Hand of the King had sent Duncan to Casterly Rock with Cersei so that they could go and see Tommen's new heir for the first time to get the pair away from each other, a move that Durran was grateful for. "Are you sure about them marrying? I know their fond of one another, but it'll mean the end of House Targaryen."

Dany nodded. "As long as a Targaryen is alive and isn't linked to a Baratheon then our son is at risk. There are still those in Dorne that plot against us my love."

Durran knew all too well. "Very well." He said. Looking up, he could see a castle in the distance. "But let's not speak of those snakes, we have a daughter to see once again and a wedding to attend." He smiled, as he dug his heel into his horse to ride slightly faster towards the castle of House Stark.

Meanwhile in Winterfell, the castle was manic with activity. All around him Robb could vaguely notice men and women rushing around the castle getting everything ready for the King's arrival. Stag banners had been put up alongside the Direwolf of House Stark, and a feast was being prepared.

Robb meanwhile had left all that to his son's betrothed. Princess Elaenor had moved up to Winterfell as a ten-year-old, and for the past two years had basically been the Lady of Winterfell after Roslin's death birthing a stillborn boy. He missed her but was grateful that she had gifted him with two boys and a daughter before her death.

"You're too solemn, My Lord." Elaenor's voice came from behind him. Robb turned to see the Baratheon beauty approach.

"I'm just lost in thought, Princess." Robb told her, turning back to the bronze statue that had been built in the courtyard of Winterfell after the battle. It portrayed a large longsword but had all the sigils of the Houses of Westeros carved into the blade, to show the unity that was needed in order to beat the Walkers. "The last time your Father came to Winterfell himself was for the battle."

"So much has changed." Elaenor nodded. "Winter was harsh on us all."

Robb agreed. It seemed that it had affected none more so than his own House. Shaking his dreary thoughts however, he turned to the Princess. "Anyway, how are you? Are you ready?"

Elaenor smiled. "I've been ready to marry Brandon for years, Lord Stark."

"They're here!" A voice came from atop the battlements. Robb looked over to see his youngest son Edwyle running down the steps. "There's dozens of them!"

Elaenor couldn't contain her grin. "Go and get Brandon and Bethany, tell them the King is close." Robb told his ward. Nodding, Elaenor picked up her skirts and ran back towards the Great Keep, where Robb's eldest son and daughter were.

Just like two decades before, the entire population of Winterfell had gathered out in the courtyard before the Great Keep to welcome the King of the Seven Kingdom's. Durran rode into the castle in the middle of the procession of Baratheon guards, and the group halted as the Stark's fell to their knees.

Durran dismounted, his face stern as he walked over to the kneeling Lord of Winterfell. Robb had grown his hair longer to cover his burn scars. Stopping in front of the kneeling Lord, he gestured for him to rise. Robb did so, and the rest of the courtyard followed suit.

The pair stared into one another's eyes. "You got fat." Durran told him, in the same sort of tone that King Robert had used on Lord Eddard all those years ago. Robb's lips twitched in amusement, the Stark had gotten slightly less lean, but was still a healthy size. Nodding his head down to Durran's own lean belly as Lord Eddard had also done, Robb continued the joke. Grinning, Durran hugged his once enemy, since friend fiercely. "It's good to see you Robb." Durran told the man.

"And you, Your Grace. Winterfell is yours." He bowed his head. Durran appreciated that, and he began moving down the line as was expected of him. He stopped in front of the heir to Winterfell and his future goodson. "You must be Brandon." He said firmly.

"Aye, Your Grace." Brandon Stark bowed his head.

Nodding his acceptance, Durran moved along to the 14-year-old Edwyle Stark. "How's your sword arm?" He asked.

"Improving every day, Your Grace." Edwyle replied proudly. Durran smirked at the Northern boasting, before finally settling eyes on the so-called prize of the North, Bethany Stark.

"You're a pretty one." He complimented. "How old are you?"

"10, Your Grace." Bethany replied confidently. Durran smiled and patted her head, before returning to Robb as Dany walked up to them.

"My Queen." Robb bowed, kissing Dany's hand.

"It's good to see you, Lord Stark. I was sorry to hear about Lady Roslin." She said quietly. Robb tipped his head in acknowledgement.

Now that formality was out of the way, Durran only had eyes for the blue-eyed woman stood to the left of Robb. "You've grown into a woman." He remarked.

"That tends to happen, Your Grace." Elaenor smirked. Durran barked out a laugh and moved forward, hugging his daughter.

"We missed you." He whispered into her ear.

"Come, let us head inside and let the Princess reunite with her family." Robb said loudly. Durran nodded his appreciation as the courtyard began to empty, and Elaenor greeted her mother with a fierce hug. She soon hugged Gowen too, who was almost as tall as his elder sister, then Renly and Aegon.

"You were just a babe the last time I saw you." She teased her younger brother. Aegon pulled a face at her, causing them all to laugh. Soon she knelt before her two sisters. "You must be Naerys and Cassana." She said kindly.

"Are you our sister?" Naerys asked.

Elaenor smiled. "I am, I've been in Winterfell for a long time though."

"Is it true you have a dragon?" Cassana asked quietly. Elaenor grinned.

"Stormfyre is out hunting at the moment, but if you like, I'll take you for a fly when he's back." Elaenor whispered. Durran groaned. He thought himself fairly lucky when Elaenor's egg was the only one to hatch, even though all of his children had eggs. Now all of them would want hatchlings. "But you must all be cold! Come along inside and let me show you to your rooms." Elaenor said brightly, leading the Baratheon's into the Great Keep.

Neither King nor Warden of the North stayed at the feast for long. They sat there for long enough as was appropriate before they escaped towards the cold, darkness of the Winterfell crypts. Durran was enthralled by the history, walking past the final resting places of legends. He stopped as they went past Ned Stark though and paid his respects there.

"He died for my claim." Durran said solemnly. "I can never thank the man enough for putting himself through."

"He always did what was right." Robb said. "It still feels strange to me now that I've ruled the North for longer than he did."

"And you've done a good job." Durran insisted. "Is the Wall down yet?"

"Almost." Robb replied. "The mountains in the West are still treacherous, but Ned Umber and his Free Folk wife have organised filling the castles and farming in the far North, we're getting there."

Durran smiled at that. The decision had been made to tear down the Wall now that the threat had been eliminated so that the Free Folk could go home if they wished, but the lands would become part of the Iron Throne, just under a more relaxed system. "How is Rickon, by the way?" Durran asked. He had seen Arya and her son Jon on the way through Moat Cailin, but the King hadn't seen the youngest of Lord Stark's children since they passed one another on the Kingsroad 13 years earlier.

"He's a father." Robb chuckled. "Aye, he and Lady Karstark had a daughter three years back. Osha they called her." Durran couldn't imagine the rowdy Rickon as a father, but then again, he couldn't imagine his own cousins as parents, yet all three of Stannis' children had proven fertile. They moved along to the next statue, and the sombre mood crept back. "My mother couldn't handle it, after his death." Robb explained.

A flashback to the last moments of the war hit Durran, as Bran Stark spasmed in the Godswood. "Did he see much afterwards?" He asked.

"Everything." Robb said, placing a candle at the bottom of Bran's statue. "It drove Mother further into her depressive state. Did you go via Riverrun on your way North?"

Durran shook his head. "I sent Gowen to see if Shireen wanted to bring Lady Catelyn and the twins, but she refused." He said. "I'm sorry."

Robb shook his head. "It took a toll on us all at the end." He sighed. "His madness affected the castle. Dying… it was a blessing for him I think."

Durran could understand. "We have to keep moving forwards though." He said. "They wouldn't want us to waste our lives in mourning. My Father would kick my arse through all Seven Hells if I tried." He breathed out a laugh. "He'll be smiling down on us soon. It was his dream to wed Baratheon and Stark."

"Aye, and soon we shall finally make his dream a reality." Robb nodded.

A couple of weeks after the Baratheon party arrived at Winterfell the occasion they had all travelled for so long for arrived. As soon as night had fallen the various Lords and Ladies of the North that had come to Winterfell for the wedding all disappeared to the Godswood, and Durran was left in the castle as he prepared to give away his daughter.

The moment she appeared from her chambers in a simple, yet elegant white gown, Durran would remember until the day he died. "You look beautiful, Elle." He told her.

Elaenor's cheeks turned a light pink. "Thank you, Father." She beamed.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Durran made sure. "I can whisk you back home if you would prefer."

Elaenor just laughed. "I have a dragon." She reminded him. "But no, I'll always love King's Landing, but Winterfell is my home now, Father. That's why we're having the ceremony by the Weirwood instead of the sept. My children will be Starks of Winterfell, followers of the Old Gods."

Durran nodded, kissing his daughter on the forehead. "You're going to make a wonderful Lady of Winterfell. Those children will be lucky to have you as their mother."

Smiling, Elaenor added. "Let's go and make it happen then."

Durran shook his head. "One more thing." He said, as he opened a small chest that had been sent to Elaenor's rooms as they arrived. He pulled out a slightly worn golden cloak, with the black stag of House Baratheon in the centre. "This is the same cloak that I used to wed your Mother."

Elle looked at it in awe, holding the fabric in her hands. "I don't know what to say." She whispered.

"Don't say anything." Durran smiled down at her. "Turn around." She did as he asked, and he gently placed the cloak over her shoulders, tying it loosely around her neck. "Let's get you wed."

She took his arm gently and the two walked through the castle and out towards the Godswood. The path was lit up by numerous candles either side of walkway, and Durran proudly walked his daughter past all the Lords and Ladies of the North, each person holding their own lantern as tradition called for. They reached the end of the path and stopped in the middle of the youngest Stark children standing with their Aunt Arya and Uncle Rickon, and on Durran's right stood his own family, minus Duncan.

Robb and Brandon stood before the Weirwood tree, and the elder stepped forwards. "Who comes before the Old Gods this night?" He asked.

"Elaenor, of the House Baratheon." Durran answered. "A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?" He felt slightly wrong at giving his daughter away to Gods he didn't worship, but the war had taught him many things about other religions powers and even as King of Westeros, Durran felt tiny in comparison to the face on the Weirwood tree.

Brandon stepped forwards, reminding Durran of a younger Ned Stark with the way he wore his cloak and braided his hair. "Brandon, of House Stark. Heir to Winterfell. Who gives her?" He said in his deep Northern accent.

"Durran, of House Baratheon." Durran began. "King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. Her Father."

Robb then looked towards Elaenor. "Princess Elaenor, do you take this man?"

Elaenor looked towards the groom, and a big smile appeared on both their faces. Looking back at Robb she said proudly. "I take this man."

Robb had a smile on his face too, as he stepped forwards to take Elaenor's hand, placing it in his sons. "Then kneel before the Gods and let them bless this union." He told them both. Durran moved to stand beside his own wife as Brandon and Elaenor did just that, and the entirety of the Godswood bowed their heads in prayer as the couple knelt before the Weirwood for a moment, before standing again. Brandon then stepped behind Elaenor and gently unlaced the ties keeping her Baratheon cloak up, folding it in his hands and moving to pass it over to Durran.

"Look after her." Durran whispered.

"I will." Brandon replied, as he swapped aisles and grabbed a Stark cloak from Rickon and placed that on the bride's shoulders instead.

The couple then made their way down the aisle between all the guests hand in hand, as the Godswood followed them in an organised fashion towards the Great Hall, where the wedding feast was to be held.

The feast was excellent. Music rang through the room as the guests all enjoyed food, wine and the bawdy dancing that the Northerners favoured. Ned Umber especially was rather handsy with some of the women in the dance.

Durran and Dany preferred to sit together and watch the procession, laughing on at some of the antics going on and smiling fondly as Elaenor and Brandon danced throughout the night together, never taking their eyes off of one another.

"I never imagined what a good match I made when I suggested this at Hayford." Durran said to his Queen.

"A union born of war." Dany laughed. "It reminds me of us."

Durran agreed, and the two clinked their goblets together at the memory of their wedding so long ago. The King looked around for his children. Naerys and Aegon, his two most boisterous of children were in a corner holding hands with Bethany Stark while spinning in circles in time to the music while Cassana had fallen asleep in her chair. Durran grabbed the attention of Renly, who was in an avid conversation with Arya Stark's son of the same age, Jon. Sighing, Renly got the message and scooped little Cassana up taking her to bed.

"Would you like to go for a walk, my Queen?" Durran asked holding his hand out. Dany smiled and accepted his hand, and the pair regally walked out of the Great Hall, making sure to tell Ser Arys to keep an eye on the children still enjoying the festivities.

The cool air hit them first as they stepped out into the courtyard of Winterfell, and a light summer snow began to fall. Durran and Dany lost formality then, just happily walking around in each other's company. They did stumble across Edwyle Stark however, catching him in the act of a heavy kissing session with the Lady of the Dreadfort, the late Roose Bolton's daughter Alarra.

"Do you remember our first meeting?" Dany asked.

Durran barked out a laugh. "I was only looking for the dragon skulls. I didn't expect to find a real dragon."

Grinning, Dany playfully hit her husband's arm. "I'm serious. I dread to think about what would have happened if you hadn't have walked into my cell."

Durran shook his head. "The Seven fated us to meet my love. They just cursed me to wait another three years before I grew brave enough to defy my Mother."

Dany laughed, clutching him tighter and moving closer to his body. "I'm glad that you did." She whispered.

"As am I." Durran told her, turning her to face him. "You are the love of my life, Daenerys Stormborn, and I look forward to many more years with you at my side."

The Baratheon King leant down to capture her lips with his own, and the two shared a romantic kiss in the snow as the soft tones of the music from the wedding continued to play. Peace had held for thirteen years, and the pair were determined that so long as they stood united, nothing would change that.

So, there we have it. The final chapter of United in Fury and it's time to say a fond farewell to Durran Baratheon, the First of his Name.

I want to thank each and every one of you readers for sharing this journey with me. It's been an absolute pleasure to write this and I hope you all enjoyed reading it just as much as I enjoyed writing it. If demand is high enough I may add the final family trees for all of the major houses in the story, but I'm not sure that it's needed.

I'll probably take a bit of a break before uploading again, but I've still got a Lannister to write about so that will come soon.

Thanks again for your support!

Reviews:

Hail King Cerion: 13 years alright for you? The way this ended means that there's no issue of the Walkers coming back, hence the disbanding of the Watch and the cooperation between Westerosi and Wildling. No Mercy is my next story to focus on, considering the season isn't back yet.

Many Faced Mage: There is certainly peace for the foreseeable future. Thank you for all your reviews!

Heart of Lies: Thank you so much!

Riverdog: I had that planned from the very beginning that she would be Azor Ahai and Jon would be Nissa Nissa. The Targaryen line will end, but only at the blessing of its matriarch, which she agrees to after being brought up basically as a Baratheon. You noticed the Mad King bit too! I thought I'd add that in there as it's a fun theory that I don't think will actually happen in the show, but I enjoy it.