Jon

Another two months had passed when they had taken Casterly Rock and it's weak garrison of three hundred along with Tommen Waters and Tywin Lannister, who had been preparing a levy to face him when they were caught unawares. With the war all but over, Jon returned east for his wedding to Margaery Tyrell. They had mustered an army of at least eighty thousand and were returning with five and seven thousand men behind them. The Tyrell men's camps were the loudest, with men jovially laughing and singing and praising the King and Queen to be.

I must do my duty to the realm. They would not have sworn to me unless I would marry her. But was it worth it, he wondered. He was drawn out of his thoughts by Robb pulling up next to him. "So, the proud king makes his way back, eh?" Robb japed, grinning at him. Jon tried to return the smile. "Well, this marriage wasn't my first choice, but perhaps I will come to love her, cousin." Robb grinned at him again. "Cousin. It feel so strange, after calling you brother all these years, eh?"

Indeed, Robb. Indeed.

Daenerys

Two exhausting months of moving along the sea on the three galleys later, her Dragons - and she, too - ached to fly, to enjoy a hunt. But sadly, with only the light blue above and the dark blue below the only thing there was to see, they were getting tired and bored. It was to her surprise when the captain came in one night and announced they were a day or two off Lys and would be stopping in port there. Finally, I can stretch my legs once more.

They made port a day and a half later, though it took her a good part of the day to get used to walking again. Her dragons had to stay, lest they be captured or killed, but she got to roam the markets freely and hear the news. The news was not great, though. "I heard the new king, the dragon, has crushed the old lion to bits. Most of his army is in tatters and he's taken Casterly Rock. The war is all but over now, with Stannis disappeared to Dragonstone and the boy king, Tommen, in chains." Denerys stopped listening to him after that, as he changed the subject. She turned her attention to a boy with whitecolored hair and purple eyes talking with a gruff man who seemed quite stern. The boy was chattering away and she didn't catch much, as her focus finally turned to the final man. "I heard the dragon king has to marry the rose lady for their allegiance." The other man at his table countered with, "Well, I heard he has to marry the lady Arrielle or something like that, the Martell."

Hmm, she mused, that can't be good. She turned and left the tavern she had been eavesdropping in to find the sun starting to set, so she made her way back to the ship to find her dragons. She counted them carelessly, One, two, th- wait, no… only two? Drogon was missing.

She turned to a nearby shiphand. "Where is he? WHERE IS MY DRAGON? If you have stolen him, I will feed you to my dragons. Speak!" She roared at him, fury in her eyes. The man stuttered, trying to deliver his answer. "N-no m'lady. He, he flew away. We tried to find you, but we couldn't." She seethed at him. "Then where did he fly off to, you dolt?" She cried, rage and fury in her ayes, blocking much of her sight. "He - he went north west. We tried to stop him, but he shrieked and burnt one of the oarsmans hand to a crisp!" She stopped and began to breathe heavily, trying to calm herself down. She breathed in and out for a few moments before she told him to get out of her sight.

Tyrion

He had arrived in Duskendale along his way with Bronn and another sellsword with him. He had met Bronn in an inn while he was travelling south and hired him as, ah, extra protection. He had turned out useful when they had been near the Vale and were attacked by a few roaming Clansmen. He had hired him fulltime for his journey south.

They arrived in King's Landing perhaps two days later to bend the knee. They found a castellan, and Barristan Selmy, to meet them. Selmy took him to a cell that was not all that bad, quite pleasant enough in truth, where he awaited this new king.

It did not take long. From his makeshift calendar carved with a spoon, seven days. The boy arrived back at the head of a mighty host indeed, and the Imp had been taken out to parade in front of this demure lad.

"So you're the Imp, hm? Well, you're about what I expected. Tell me, Tyrion of House Lannister, how did you get arrested?" The lad asked, looking at him with his eyes that had a hint of purple in them, as well as a sadness.

"Well, King Jon, I gave myself willingly to your rotund castellan and the lord commander of your kingsguard. I found I would rather not have my head, or worse, my cock chopped off, and I was hoping to bend my knee to you and swear fealty and the like." He replied with a grin coming afterwards.

The young fellow thought for a moment. "Very well, Tyrion Lannister. You will be made Paramount of the Westerlands, so long as you bend your knee and give me a hostage." He then looked at him with those steely eyes. Just like his fathers, he mused, though these eyes are alive.

"Yes, well, I believe with my brother killed in the commotion, the only family member I have any love for is in your possession - no, not my father, my nephew twice over. Bastard though he may be, I do love him. So keep him as a hostage, ser, and get on with it." He felt small in this room, in front of this tall gangly lad who looked on from that great, crooked throne of his.

"Very well, Tyrion Lannister. Rise as Lord Paramount of the West." He rose what little he could and grinned. Thank the gods for that boy, he thought to himself.

Jon

The feast was a grand thing, with seven courses for the seven gods of the south. His soon to be lady wife was at least attractive, and sweet too, though this wedding was a bit off. Still, all would be well when the wedding was done. He had heard The Bear and the Maiden Fair at least four times now, but it was a good alternative to the gloomy Rains of Castamere or The Dornishman's Wife. He turned to take in the maid before him, who was shortly to be his wife once the bedding had come and gone. She was a fair girl, with a sweet face, doe eyes and a slender but shapely figure. That, at least, was good. After the third course he could not eat a bite more for fear of bursting like an overripe berry. His lady wife turned to him and noted this. "Jon, is something wrong? You have not touched a bite more, my dear." He turned to her and gave her a wan smile. "It's alright, Lady Margaery, I'm just stuffed." She smiled ad moved in for a kiss, and he decided to give in. I'm going to be married to her anyways, so why not? He moved in and their lips locked in an embrace for a few moments before they pulled away. He grinned at her and took a sip of his wine.

The gifts for the individual had already been received. Jon had gotten an excellent crown, a book of Targaryen Reigns, a cloak sewed with the Targaryen sigil in the middle and a fine chalice with seven rubies. Margaery had received a fine gown of Myrish lace, a crown for herself with ruby dragons and pyrite roses, and a finely made riding cloak.

The gifts for the both of them, Jon had paid little attention to, instead looking at the joy around him. He was quite happy now, and buzzing from the wine he had almost quaffed, as Robb described it. Then the crowd began to chant. "Bedding! Bedding! Bedding!" Jon looked up with a grimace and got up alongside his lady wife. She was taken off by Robb, Loras, the Greatjon Umber, Oberyn Martell and another fellow he didn't recognize.

He was picked up by the ladies of the feast and stripped down to a single sock by the time he got to the bedchamber. They placed him and her on the bed, made a few more jests, and left, with one of them closing the respective doors behind them. He laid upon the bed and took in Margaery's curves before getting up and pouring himself some water to calm his nerves. He took a good swig and returned to the great bed to find her waiting for him. She smiled at him and beckoned him. He could feel the swelling down there and she glanced down with a smile. She pointed to him where to go, and he entered her. truly uniting the bride and groom as a couple.

Later that night, after the bedding done, he left with a cloak on and little else to stand upon the balcony and breathe some cool air. He heard a shriek and a flap of wings, and suddenly a black dragon the size of a large dog landed in front of him. "Oh my," Was all Jon could say.