Am I my Brother's Keeper, Yes I Am

by Alperez16

A different choice after the Battle of the Bastards brings another Stark back from the dead. Together with his brother how does Rickon Stark's living change the Game and what do another King in the North and his bastard brother mean in regards to the return of House Targaryen. An idea suggested by my good friend and co-writer Leilani972 that I just couldn't resist jumping on board

28. Peace is Hell

Rosby/King Landing 304 AC.

Olenna Tyrell.

Though the king and queen had done what they could, the needs of the North were more pressing even than those of the survivors of the destruction of King's Landing. So it had been left to Olenna, Desmera, Aurane Velaryon, and others to deal with the chaos of the South while Baelon and Daenerys dealt with the danger in the North. Olenna may have at times thought her king and queen had the easier task, but they were but fleeting thoughts.

It took weeks for the true extent of the damage to be seen and even then, it was through eyes that were forced to deal with an eternal night. The gods were not content with death, destruction, hunger, and homelessness. Not even with sending a force that Olenna could barely comprehend with but one task, to see them all dead. They wished them to face it all while denying them the sun too. Still, she forbore it because she had to. Her strength was needed and while she may bemoan that it had fallen to her as Hand, Olenna had vowed she'd prove herself up to it regardless.

At first, she'd based herself on Dragonstone, but logistics, time, and the sheer amount of work she needed to do had soon brought her to Rosby. Desmera had come too even despite Olenna wishing her far away from things. Her granddaughter proved herself to be much like Margaery was and was keen to help out where she could. Be it with a kind word, a warm meal, or an extra blanket. Even one night with a song that brought a smile to Olenna's face and made her forget just how very tired she truly was.

"You should rest, grandmother."

"I'll be dead soon enough girl, I'll rest then." she replied and then moved to offer comfort to Desmera who looked worried at the idea of her time coming to an end "But not yet," she said simply, to a nod of Desmera's head.

The sheer scale of loss was something that Olenna couldn't believe possible and yet they'd been lucky too. Close to 50,000 people were dead or unaccounted for and mayhap half that again wouldn't make it through the winter, mild though it seemed to be for now. Among them were some important people, some who'd be considered very much not, and some that Olenna would almost name as friends. Ellaria Sand's body had not been found, but her jewelry had. Burned, and melted, the blackened rings and locket told the story of the woman's fate most clearly.

To her surprise, Varys still lived. His little birds had sought her out after the king and queen had left to go North and Olenna had been taken to him. He had been badly burned and was almost unrecognizable, yet somehow he had survived. While he was yet to wake from whatever sleep held him, a part of her believed that he may very well do. If it was up to his little birds he certainly would as they were most diligent with his care. Each of them helped to clean him, feed him and keep him as comfortable as any man in his condition could be.

Olenna had sent a raven to Winterfell telling the king and queen of both his survival and Ellaria's loss. Then she had gotten back to work. The Kingswood's trees had provided wood for temporary and not-so-temporary accommodation. Keeps, towns, villages, and holdfasts had taken in refugees that were able to travel and both Dragonstone and Driftmark were as full as they had ever been. Her Goodson had recovered from his injuries and his fleet had been sent far and wide in search of food and supplies. Both to purchase and to capture as some of the ships of the Arbor were, for now, little more than fishing vessels.

Her days had become a routine. She'd wake, go over the lists of the supplies that they had, that were needed, and where they may be obtained from. Then she'd break her fast with her granddaughter and her betrothed, Ser Humfrey proving himself both a capable man and one who was enamored with Desmera at the same time. Desmera and she would tour the camps, and speak to mothers, fathers, and even children, though mainly to the healers. They'd eat their luncheon with those with nowhere else to go, showing them that they too ate little better than they did. Then she'd visit Varys' tent and after leaving, she'd then spend the end of her day going over her correspondence. She was doing so when Erryk entered her solar. Olenna sitting alone and taken aback by the sight of her giant guard walking towards her unannounced. Her heart thumped in her chest as she awaited what she feared was bad news, only to find it was very much not.

"He's truly awake?" she asked Desmera as she met up with her granddaughter in the courtyard of Rosby.

"He is, grandmother, he's asking for you."

It happened as they traveled in the carriage. One moment it was night and the next the sun shined and it was now day once more. Sitting inside the carriage in the darkness, it took the excited voices from outside to alert Olenna and Desmera to it and when her granddaughter opened the shade, they both had to shield their eyes from the first daylight they'd seen in weeks.

"They did it. He did it," she said happily as she willed her eyes to readjust to the light.

"Did what? Who? The king?"

"The prince that was promised will bring the dawn," Olenna said in reply to Desmera's questions.

As they neared where Varys was being treated, the sounds of cheering and singing grew louder. Climbing out of the carriage, Olenna squinted and yet could see the happy faces all around her. The children's expressions alone were enough to fight away any tiredness she was feeling. Despite wishing to stand and enjoy the moment, something made her hurry to Varys' tent and she arrived with little time to spare. Awake though he was, it was clear he was not long for this world, and taking her place beside him, Olenna tried not to grimace when she felt his burned hand reach out for her.

"I…The King, the Queen?" Varys coughed.

"Have done it, Varys. They've beaten the army of dead men and Baelon and Daenerys have brought the dawn."

"They live? They…" he coughed again.

"They live, Varys." Olenna lied as she shook her head at Desmera and bid her to remain silent. She believed they did, hoped they did, but until she actually received news from them, she couldn't be sure. Still, if these were to be Varys' last moments, then he deserved some comfort in them.

"It was…." Varys coughed even louder and one of the little birds handed her a mug filled with water, Desmera holding Varys' burned head as Olenna placed the mug at his lips.

It took all she had not to turn away from the sight of him drinking it down. The true extent of his injuries was finally shown and laid bare and never would she have wished them on her worst enemy. After he'd quenched his thirst, he coughed once more and then fell silent and Olenna worried that he'd passed, only for him to grip her hand tightly and speak once more, this time for the last time.

"Tyrion, Olenna, it was Tyrion. He set the Wildfire alight and…."

"How can you be sure?"

"Tell my king and queen I'm sorry I failed them….Tell them….."

"You didn't fail them Varys, they and I know this to be true."

He smiled a gruesome smile and then she felt his hand loosen its grip on her own. Desmera looked at her and laid his head back on the pillow and around them, his little birds wept silently. Olenna bid a grave be dug for him and found one on a hill that overlooked King's Landing somewhat. Wasting no time to bury him, she said some words over his grave herself, and by the time night fell once more, she was back in Rosby at her desk once again.

When she woke the next morning, she, like everyone else she wagered, immediately moved to see if the sun shone still and was greatly relieved to find it did. It would make things easier and allow them to see even more the extent of the damage and of the rebuilding that would be required. More than anything though, it would mean that they'd soon be joined by the king and queen, or so she hoped. Before breaking her fast, she wrote out the note and it was sent by a raven that night. How Tyrion Lannister had managed to destroy most of a city and kill so many people, she knew not, but the truth of him would soon be known to one and all. She prayed she'd see him suffer for his crimes and then readied to begin her day for true once more.

A week later.

The arrival of the raven had been most welcome, especially given the news it carried. Though the note spoke of losses, the two she most wished for had survived and were now traveling south once more. Olenna was both greatly relieved that the king and queen had come through the battle unscathed and eager to see them both again. Keen too to see Tyrion Lannister pay for what he'd done. Unlike Olenna though it may have been, she'd spoken the words as she stood over Varys' grave. Telling him wherever he was that he'd not died in vain and that the dynasty he sought to see rise high would do so out of the ashes of the city he'd died in.

It wasn't just the arrival of a raven that focussed Olenna's attention, as three days after it had arrived, the ships from Meereen did too. Olenna was asleep in Rosby when they did so. Her granddaughter woke her with the news and despite the tiredness she felt, she dressed quickly and broke her fast in the carriage that took her to the docks.

They'd cleared the debris and had torn down any buildings that were no longer safe. So the ride to the docks was one done almost out in the open. Close to a third of the city was uninhabitable. Nearly a quarter of it had been destroyed outright, while a little more was damaged too severely to do anything but remove the rubble and start anew. Yet, in the cold light of day, things had been shown to be not as bad as they could have been. Flea Bottom was destroyed, though not from the initial blast, and in truth that was a good thing. For when they rebuilt, and rebuild they would, those poor wretches would be given a much better future than the past they'd known.

As the carriage finally made it to the docks, Olenna steadied herself and readied to meet the captains of the ships that had arrived. Desmera helped her from the carriage and Erryk and Arryk took up their positions to both her and her granddaughter's sides. No sooner had she stepped away from the carriage than she saw Aurane Velaryon move her way.

"Lady Hand." Aurane said with a small bow of his head as he did so.

"Lord Velaryon. The ships?"

"A dozen, my lady. Bearing supplies of coin and food for her grace from the city of Meereen." Aurane said as he moved even closer "Their captain is the commander of said city, a Daario Naharis I believe he named himself." Aurane then said more quietly.

Olenna knew the name. While the queen had spoken little of her time in Essos other than in generalities, Missandei had been more forthcoming. The young woman was most proud of Daenerys' achievements and the taking of the city of Meereen was but one of them. Daario Naharis to the best of Olenna's recollection had been a sellsword who had joined the queen's service. There may have been more to their relationship than that, or that was at least the impression that Olenna had been given, yet it had never been stated outright.

"He says he bears other gifts for his queen too, my lady." Aurane said, his tone showing he liked the man not.

Olenna looked to her guards and then bid Aurane to take her to this sellsword. She was led to one of the buildings that still stood, the docks having taken some damage but not as much as elsewhere. The building served as sort of a gathering place for the captains of the ships to meet and contained a tavern that was supplied by the ships themselves. Entering it, Olenna was stunned to see that there was only Essosi in the large open room. As she turned to Aurane, he pointed out the sellsword and Olenna made her way to where Daario sat.

Daario was a relatively handsome man, though his arrogance and cockiness were clear to see in how he lounged in his seat. The look he gave her was dismissive, while the look he gave Desmera was anything but. His lust for her granddaughter was all too clear to see as he practically undressed her with his eyes. It made Olenna glad that Ser Humfrey was elsewhere as the last thing she needed was a pissing contest between two men over a woman that only had eyes for one of them. The thought then came to her head that if indeed there had been something between this man and her queen, she may find herself witnessing such a thing soon enough regardless.

"My name is Olenna Tyrell, I'm Hand to their graces King Baelon and Queen Daenerys Targaryen," Olenna stated.

"Daario Naharis, Commander of the Second Sons and Protector of the Great City of Meereen and the Bay of Dragons," Daario said without moving from his seat.

"You bring supplies for your queen?" she asked to a nod of the man's head "I'll see you're given the men to help them be unloaded."

"The food only," Daario said and though he irked her with his look and tone, for now, she cared not for what coin he may have brought and food was a far more pressing concern.

"Food only." she agreed.

"My queen, where is she?" Daario asked, still lounging as casually as he'd been since she first entered the large open room.

"She and his grace led their armies North where they've won the world the greatest victory it's ever known." Olenna said, her words for those others present as much as they were for the man she spoke them to "They now make their way back and should return within the moon."

"I look most forward to seeing her, for I've brought my queen other gifts that will please her greatly."

Had those gifts not been brought out and shown to her then Olenna would have worried about how Daario spoke those words. She'd have concentrated on that and only that, were it not for the two heads that were placed on the table in front of the sellsword. While she may have only met Euron Greyjoy once, she recognized him easily and even more so by the head that was next to him. Without thought and quicker than she normally was able, Olenna moved to the table and picked up Cersei Lannister's severed head in her hands.

The spit was unbidden and landed right between the green eyes that Olenna hated with all she was. Salt or something else, Olenna cared not how the head had been preserved and to her, it looked as if it had just been severed. Though that was clearly not true. This was the woman who'd cost her almost all she loved in the world, the woman she wished dead more than any other living being. She'd wished it to be at her own hands and yet as she looked at what seemed to be Cersei's terror-stricken expression, she cared not. Only the fact that she was dead truly mattered in the end. That and she died before Olenna herself breathed her last and shuffled from this mortal coil.

"How?" she asked. Her words were barely a whisper.

"She and the pirate with her believed they could take my queen's city with a handful of men. You Westerosi truly believe yourselves to be better than us all." Daario said with a chuckle "As you can see, they found they were very much not."

Hands shaking, she placed the severed head back on the table and composed herself. Olenna repeated that the king and queen would be here within the moon and noticed how Daario bristled over the first of those words. She would speak to Baelon about the man and advise him to be wary around him, for it was clear that it wasn't just gifts that Daario wished to give to the queen. Bidding the man farewell for now and offering him all the hospitality that they could offer, she, Desmera, Aurane, and her guards walked from the building and made their way back to the docks.

"That was truly Cersei Lannister and the Crow's Eye?" Aurane asked as they did so.

"It was them."

"Their graces will be most pleased, grandmother." Desmera said.

"Keep a close eye on that man, Lord Aurane, I trust him not."

"Of course my lady. I'll see the ships are unloaded quickly and the food is added to our stores."

"Get me a tally of it too, Lord Aurane. I'd like to know just how much he's brought with him. See too if you can find out what he's brought in terms of coin, but do so without making it seem that's what you're doing."

"It will be done, my lady."

She and Desmera climbed back into the carriage. Once it started to move, Olenna asked her granddaughter what she made of Daario Naharis. It pleased her greatly that Desmera had noticed his looks at her and liked them not and even more that she said she'd have naught to do with the man while here. For even while a lady may not wish to be seduced or to lay with a man, that did not mean that said man would simply take no for an answer. When Desmera said that she believed that Daario wished to lay with the queen, Olenna smirked. Her granddaughter had just shown that she was just as astute as Olenna wished her to be.

"He'll find himself at the end of Longclaw's blade or falling prey to Ghost should he dare to dream of such," Olenna said.

Later that night, she handed the note to one of Varys' little birds and hoped that even with the man himself now gone, the network he'd created still functioned. In time, they'd appoint someone else to serve as the eunuch. For now, Olenna just wished the man was here to see this task done and to offer his own counsel when required.

"Hurry back my king and queen," Olenna said as the little bird left her room and ran to see the song was sung far from the south.

Winterfell 304 AC.

Rickon Stark.

The rays of the sun warmed his cold and tired body, letting him know that the Night King had been defeated, yet he couldn't bring himself to feel any joy at the moment. Not when he could still hear the desperate screams of the person who was once his brother. He needed to get away from him, from his voice, from what he had been forced to do, and he had to face his family and his people, the people that still lived.

"You must do it, Rickon. It is the only way to protect the pack." Nan had told him.

"Would that make me a kinslayer?"

"He will live, condemned to relive the horror and death of the person he wronged the most, unable to get out of the prison of his own mind until the end of his time."

"A fate worse than death itself." Rickon sighed.

"It is what he deserves, for all the lives he has ended before their time. For my kin and for yours."

"Aye, for Arya."

Rickon had placed Arya's body on Nymeria, who had joined him to see Bran's demise, with the utmost care. All while bidding his sister's forgiveness for what he had been forced to do to her. How he'd managed not to cry, or just to walk, he had no idea. He knew that both Sansa and Jon were safe, he could feel it through their bond, but he wanted to see them, to make sure they were for real.

As he exited the Godswood, he welcomed Sansa's hug as much as he felt he didn't deserve it. He had failed Arya, they had all failed her as they kept giving Bran the benefit of the doubt. They should have exiled him the moment they felt he wasn't part of the pack.

"What happened, Rickon? Why is Bran behaving like Hodor?" his sister asked and Rickon shook his head, feeling the shame of what he did come to him once more.

He could still hear Bran crying out, pleading for him to come back.

Please Rickon! It hurts! It hurts so much!

Do not leave me this way!

The pain… It's too much!

Please! I learned my lesson!

You're the strongest of us all, I understand that now!

If you have to, kill me, but do not leave me this way!

This was not how it was supposed to be!

End me! End me now!

Kill me you coward! Kill me or open the door!

He understood perfectly every word that the former Three-Eyed Raven uttered, as he shared a mind with him, whilst for everyone else Bran was only saying a word.

"Rickon! What happened?"

He shook his head and let go of Sansa, unable to speak the truth to her. How could he? How could he explain that their brother was responsible for the death of their sister and that Rickon had to be the one to seal his fate so no one else would die because of Bran?

Because of him.

"Give him time, little wolf. We've all been through a lot." he heard the Hound say and nodded with gratitude.

Come back!

Do not leave me here!

Save me, Rickon! Please! I beg you!

Open this fucking door!

He needed to leave, to shut Bran's voice out of his head, but he was too weak to do so. His exhaustion and mental state made him unable to control his power. Rickon was overwhelmed by all the emotions he could feel coming from his surroundings. Through Nymeria, he felt the pain, sadness, and anger of her and her whole pack. They had lost a third of their kin but Arya's loss was felt by all of them as one of their own. Through Sansa, Rickon knew their uncle Edmure had not survived. While he did not know the whole story, he could feel her guilt radiating from her.

Each and every familiar face he saw made him both relieved and sad, especially seeing the flicker of sadness as they spotted his sister's lifeless body being carried away. He nodded to each man and woman he saw to express his relief at seeing them safe. The wounded were being settled on the sides, beside the walls, while the wights and those who had lost their lives were rounded up in the yard. Cheers started to mount in the ranks of the living when they saw him walk physically unharmed, all of them unaware of how destroyed he was on the inside.

"The King in the North!"

"The Rickon lives!"

"The Long Night is Over!"

"House Stark!"

His heart skipped a beat when he saw Lyanna Mormont rushing toward him, bloody and limping, and he managed to smile when she stopped herself short from hugging him.

"Thanks be to the Old Gods!" she whispered while scanning his body. "Are you hurt? Are you…"

"Are you?" he asked back.

"Nothing much. I… I'm good."

"The others?" he said and she shook her head.

"Ned… He saved my life," she answered, looking away in shame before gasping loudly as her eyes fell on Nymeria. "No… Rickon… Is she…"

He couldn't say the words. The images of her death would haunt him forever, as would the thing he had to do to her so she would not come back as a wight.

Rickon could still see the tear falling from her eye when he plunged the Dragonglass dagger into her heart. It had felt to him as if he had killed her just as much as Bran.

In a way, he had.

Lyanna's embrace hurt him as much as it appeased him. He almost broke down at this point, but he could feel the gaze of his people upon him.

You're still a king. You still have a duty to them.

"We all lost someone we care about." He painfully said while stepping away from Lyanna. "Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, children. Family, friends… We have paid a heavy cost to bring the Dawn, all of us."

"Is… Is it truly over, Your Grace?" a soldier asked him and he nodded.

"Where is King Baelon?"

"And Queen Daenerys?"

"The dragons?"

"Should we send help to them?"

"The sun shines anew. The fight is over, aye, but lots of lives have been lost behind the walls of Winterfell. As we mend our wounds, so too are the knights, soldiers, and Free Folk outside of Winterfell. So too do the king and the queen. They will come to us when the time is right. Meanwhile, there is much work still to do. We have to make sure those who fell will be treated with the respect they deserve. We have to honor them. I… I want you to care for every one of the fallen as if they were your family, for you are alive thanks to them. Then and only then will we celebrate."

"It will be done, Your Grace." Talia Forrester said and he was glad to see her breathing.

"What of Lord Brandon, Your Grace. Is he -" Lyanna's words made Rickon shiver, as the mention of his brother made his mind travel to the Godswood.

Let me out!

We're brothers!

You can't do this to me!

"Lock him in the crypts for now," he said, trying to ignore the voice in his head. "Do not be surprised if he behaves differently. There are things I need to discuss with the remnants of my family first, but in time you will all learn about his fate."

"I'm on it, Your Grace." Lyanna's determined voice made Rickon grateful for his friends and her propensity not to push to know things.

"Sansa."

"I'm here, brother. I'm here," she replied, pressing her hand to his.

"I know you must be tired and overwhelmed, but I need you to be the Lady of the Keep. I can't… I don't feel…"

Rickon!

Open the door! Please!

I know now I was in the wrong!

"You need… To be there for the people while I shut down the voices for good." Rickon managed to say.

"The voices? You're scaring me, brother."

"Just… Take care of our sister for me, will you?"

The last thing he saw as he lost consciousness was the worried face of Sansa looming over him. He could hear them talk about having him see a maester, and he was glad his sister suggested bringing him to his rooms so he could rest before being surrounded by darkness.

He couldn't feel anything. Not his body, nor his mind and he embraced the silence. For a moment he wondered if he was dead. For a fleeting moment, he wished he was until he remembered what he saw in Bran's mind. He couldn't, wouldn't do that to Jon and Sansa.

Not when they already lost Arya.

Still, he longed for this sensation for a little while longer, until he felt a brush over his mind and tensed.

It's me, little brother. I'm with him.

Rickon felt drawn to Ghost's mind as if he had no choice but to be there. The lack of control over his power worried him greatly, but he was glad to be in the direwolf's body and not somewhere else.

He could see Baelon looking at the horizon, the walls of Winterfell not too far from where he was standing. Around him, hundreds of bodies lay on the ground as soldiers gathered them as they did in Winterfell.

"Shouldn't the dragon burn them, Your Grace?" Ned Dayne, who looked injured, asked.

"We should honor them first, Ned. We may not have the names of all of those who fell to the Night King and his minions, but the North remembers and Westeros should too. We should do all we can to report to their families, to their loved ones, that they gave their lives so others could breathe."

Rickon was happy to see Baelon on his feet, but he knew what effect Arya's death would have on him. He tried to feel and seek out more of the people he knew and cared about. Tormund, Brienne, Nessa, and even the Red Woman, but were either too exhausted or too overwhelmed by the constant voice in his head to manage to find them. The dragons however were safe, though as exhausted as Ghost and he himself was. After a short while, he could see Daenerys immersing herself in her queenly duties and he was relieved at the sight of his goodsister unharmed.

Ghost's body brushed against Baelon's side and both of them welcomed the soft stroking of the white fur.

"I am glad that you're well, brothers. I am well too," he reassured them and Rickon felt the dread of what he was about to announce to his older brother.

"I can't. I can't do it," he whined, catching Baelon's full attention now. "I can't tell him. Not like that."

"Rickon? Is everything well?" Baelon's worried voice made his anguish grow.

"Go, little brother. I will be with him when the time is right. You have another thing to settle before our brother's arrival. Go." Ghost dismissed him, and Rickon complied, but not without sending Baelon a sad glance before going back to his body.

He felt more exhausted than before he'd collapsed as he struggled to get out of the bed. Rickon had tried warging once more, into one of the mice of the keep that he'd already shared a body with, only to find out he couldn't.

Was something wrong with him?

Were the Gods punishing him for going into Bran's mind?

Was he bound to lose his mind just as he forced his former brother to?

He couldn't dwell on his fears, not when Bran's voice kept ringing in his head and prevented him from thinking straight. Rickon knew it was mostly guilt that allowed him to be consumed by this feeling of inadequacy. He had closed the door on Bran's mind to prevent any more unnecessary deaths. To avenge Arya and stop a monster from destroying all that he held dear.

He had to, to protect the pack he had to act. Bran said more than once that they weren't brothers anymore. Rickon himself had felt that he hadn't been part of the pack for a long time.

Rickon just hoped his family would forgive him for not acting sooner.

Winterfell 304 AC.

Dany.

It took some time for her eyes to adapt to the sun once more. Dany now reveled in its light and what it meant. As did Drogon beneath her. Once her eyes had adjusted, she turned to look at her other two children more closely. While she'd seen them flying close by her and was sure they'd not been injured, seeing them in the light of day was something she welcomed greatly. To be able to look at them and see they were unharmed was a boon to her spirit and once she was certain of their well-being, she then sought out her husband to make sure of his.

Leaving Winterfell behind and happy enough to see so many people were still standing as she did so, Dany bid Drogon to take her to where they'd last seen Baelon. Rhaegal flew ahead of them and far more quickly than either Drogon or Viserion did. Her son's eagerness to see Baelon almost matched her own. As she watched him fly and then land, Dany closed her eyes and tried to feel through her bond with Drogon if he felt any worries or sadness come from his brother. Relieved that he did not, she looked beneath her and almost laughed at the sight of Ghost as he raced across the snow-covered ground. The white wolf's own eagerness to see Baelon was very clear by just how easily had moved on the ice and through the snow.

She felt him long before she actually saw him for true. A piece of her heart clicked into place and then she was looking down on her husband. Rhaegal had landed and Baelon was speaking to him as Dany bid Drogon to join them. No sooner had they landed than she was off the dragon's back and though she wished to praise her son and her other children for all they'd done, she believed that Drogon understood why it was Baelon she moved to first.

"You're unharmed?" she asked breathlessly when she reached her husband's side.

"I am. You are well? The dragons?"

It was her lips she answered with, not words. The kiss was a needy one and one that Baelon returned just as hungrily. The feel of his arms as they wrapped around her was a most welcome one. As were the words he spoke to her once they moved apart.

"It's over, Dany. it's done. I love you….I love you so much."

"I love you too, Baelon," she said as this time she was kissed.

How long they stayed locked in an embrace she knew or cared not. They deserved this and so much more time together. Given what they'd done, they deserved a lifetime of knowing such peace and comfort. Unfortunately, they would have to wait a little longer today to be alone and she felt it when Baelon stiffened against her. Dany then giggled at the words he spoke softly to her before moving from her arms.

"Ghost, it seems he's most eager to make sure I'm unharmed. The white wolf and the Dragonqueen have much in common it would seem."

Allowing her husband to move to Ghost, Dany walked over to the dragons. She leaned her head firstly against Drogon's own. Speaking softly to her son, she told him how very proud she was of all he'd done. That he'd shown that he was as mighty as any dragon who'd come before him. Dany told him how happy she was that he was unharmed and then chuckled when he snorted warm air at her. Drogon's pride was on full display as he basically said, "Who could harm him".

She moved from Drogon to Viserion and offered him up the very same warm words she'd given to his brother. Dany told him that he'd not played a lesser part than Drogon had, even though she'd not been on his back. Her gentle son trilled under her touch and her words and once she was done talking to him, she then moved to Rhaegal. With him, it was more talk of Baelon than anything else she engaged in. While she praised him as much as she had any of his brothers, it was her words that they and Baelon would fly together soon enough that Rhaegal most welcomed.

By the time she was finished speaking to Rhaegal, Baelon had spoken to Ghost. So Dany moved over to where Ned Dayne was standing over the fallen figure of Jaime Lannister. She was joined by Baelon and Ghost as she did so.

"Your injury is not severe?" she asked Ned who shook his head and looked sadly at Jaime Lannister who almost looked to be sleeping.

"He…"

"He saved me, Dany." Baelon said when Ned stuttered "The Night King would have killed me were it not for Jaime Lannister. He deserves to be honored greatly for what he did."

"Then we shall see he receives it, Baelon," she said determinedly.

While she wished for them to fly together, Baelon begged off for now. Dany knew much of warriors and their ways and yet she knew little of them too. Rather than take Jaime's body atop Rhaegal, Baelon wished it carried and to be among those who did so himself. So Dany would not deny him leave to do as he wished.

"You fly, Dany. Go and make sure that those you care about are unharmed. I'll join you soon enough."

"You're sure?" she asked.

"Aye, I'll not be long," Baelon said before kissing her softly.

Reluctantly though it was, Dany made her way back to Drogon and she was unsurprised when it was only Viserion who joined her. They flew the short distance from what had been behind the Night King's Army's lines to where their own army was. Flying over their heads, Dany was greatly relieved to see just how many of them were still living. They'd suffered losses no doubt, but her Khalasar seemed almost intact and she could see many Unsullied still standing.

Once she was happy enough that she'd seen most of her men and more importantly that they'd seen her, she then turned to find a place to land. The loud cheers from the Dothraki as they flew over them were more than enough to show their own joy at their victory. Dany bid Drogon land and no sooner had she done so than she was joined by those she'd truly been seeking out.

"Khaleesi, you are unharmed, the Khal?" Qhono asked and Dany embraced her Bloodrider before telling him that she and Baelon both took no wounds this day.

"A great victory, Khaleesi. The Great Stallion will be most happy to be honored so."

"The Khalasar deserve to be honored by the Great Stallion, Qhono," she said to a broad smile from the larger man.

Seeing Jorah and Grey Worm move to her almost brought a tear to her eye.

"My queen." Grey Worm said, his voice far less stoic than usual.

"It pleases me to see you, Torgho Nudho. The Unsullied?"

"Few have fallen, my queen."

"Then we shall mourn those who have and honor them and those who won the day."

"We will, my queen."

"Khaleesi," Jorah said, relieved.

"You're hurt, Jorah, I…."

"A flesh wound, Khaleesi. One I'll wear with honor. You are well? The King?"

"Killed the Night King and is unharmed, Jorah," she said proudly.

More and more faces she recognized were seen and she was pleased to see Benjen Stark among them. Meera Reed too was unharmed and some of the Northmen who fought for Baelon in the Battle of the Bastards had come through this one too. Dany smiled when she saw Eddison Tollet. The dour Lord Commander of the Night's Watch was one of her husband's true friends and it put her in mind of his truest of all.

"Where's Tormund?" she asked to no reply.

They found him before Baelon arrived back. He and Brienne were laying together wrapped in an embrace. At first glance, you'd not even know that either had been harmed, but soon enough it would become clear that they had both lost their lives. Were it not for the cheers that rang out, Dany would have seen them moved elsewhere. Instead, she turned to see Baelon, Ned Dayne, and some other men she knew not, had now arrived.

Moving to her husband, she watched as he embraced his uncle and then Eddison Tollet before he bid everyone to quieten down.

"The Night King has fallen. Though it was not without its cost. While it was my blade that took him from this world, it was many others that gave me the chance to do so. Some of those have paid the ultimate price here today. Ser Jaime Lannister gave his life to protect mine own and was it not for him then I'd not be here to speak these words. I name him a Hero of the Dawn. As I name each and every single one of you.

This was not my victory, nor my wife's or our dragons. This was not a victory that belongs only to the North, West, Reach, Dorne, Riverlands, Stormlands, or the Vale. Not one that belongs only to the Dothraki, the Unsullied, or the Free Folk. It belongs to each of us, to Westerosi and Essosi alike. Not a single one of us played a bigger role than any other. To the brave fallen, I say thank you for all you've done so that we can see another Dawn and know a future. To those who live I name you all as the true heroes and heroines of this day. Together we brought the Dawn, let no man or woman ever forget that."

Baelon's words were stirring and Dany saw how much they meant to each of those who listened to them. She waited until he'd thanked as many people as he could and then she saw that look in his eyes.

Seeing him as he moved to her, her expression spoke the words before she did. Reaching out her hand, she led him to where Tormund and Brienne lay and it broke her heart to see and hear him weep so truly.

"He…I never deserved such a friend as him. All I brought to him was death. Ygritte, Mance, his people, all I brought to him was death…."

"Baelon…."

"How can they be so cruel, Dany? What gives them the right to take so much from us…he….they….they'd only just found each other….."

"Oh my love, my poor love," she said as she grabbed her husband and pulled him against her.

Baelon stayed on his knees, the shaking of his body as he cried against her white coat was the only sound she heard. Seeing his uncle and others move towards them, Dany shook her head and was grateful that they left them alone. It was close to an hour later that she watched as Baelon placed a kiss on Tormund's forehead and when he bid her to give him a moment alone, she did so only at his behest.

She wished to go to Winterfell then and there. Dany believed that her husband needed to see his family was safe and well, he needed good news, and yet it was not to be. They had dead to mourn and living to honor and so it was not until long after night had fallen that they even began to speak of moving from where they were. In the end, tiredness forced them to get some rest, and more than once, Dany woke to find Baelon up and about with tears streaming down his cheeks. Her words of comfort were listened to and accepted, she believed. Enough to get him to come back to bed and while they didn't lay together, eventually Baelon slept some.

They flew to Winterfell the next morning. Baelon had left orders that the bodies of their fallen were to be taken to Winterfell where they would all be burned or buried together. Ghost had run back to the keep at Baelon's request and Jorah, Grey Worm, Benjen Stark, Meera Reed, and Ned Dayne joined them on their flight. She felt it when they arrived and it was only the sight of Lyanna Mormont and Sansa Stark that forced the feeling away. Temporarily thought it was to be.

"Sansa," Baelon said happily and Dany saw it even more clearly when they embraced.

She feared it was Rickon who'd fallen, only to catch a sight of him through one of the windows in the keep. Baelon's eyes had found him long before her own did. Looking around. Dany saw Davos walk their way and the look on the older man's face was one she'd remember for many years to come. The sound of her husband calling out for his sister was one she'd remember for the rest of her life. As was the sight of Baelon as he raced through the courtyard to find Arya Stark. A search that would only lead to even more heartache.

"Oh my love, my poor love," she said as she hurried after him, hoping to be there when he found what it was she believed he would soon find.

Winterfell 304 AC.

Sansa.

Sansa had not truly had time to mourn her sister, other than when she was alone in her room that was. A few moons together were all she and Arya really had, a few moons in which they were finally the sisters they should have always been. It was nowhere near enough and each day her duties were done with, Sansa sobbed and gave in to her grief. Only for the morning to arrive and she was once again forced to put that all to one side for the good of the North.

Both Rickon and Jon needed her to be who she was pretending to be. They needed her to show a strength that, for now, neither of them possessed. An ability to do what was needed not for their family, but for their House and for the good of the people who relied on them. As for what her other brother needed, Sansa cared not. Bran was truly broken now. He barely acknowledged anyone's presence and though he ate and slept far more than he once had, Sansa bore no concerns for him whatsoever. Not even hearing him speak the one word that he did over and over was enough to move her heart but a little. Given what he'd done, Sansa believed he'd gotten off easy and each morning she awoke a part of her hoped to find that he had not.

Rickon worried far too much over what he'd done. He too hadn't truly mourned their sister and was far more concerned with their brother than anything else. All his duties as King In the North and Lord of Winterfell were irrelevant to him compared to the need to offer some comfort to Jon. Sansa blamed him not and was glad that someone was able to. For never had she seen a man so lost as her oldest brother. She'd offered her own comfort when she could and Jon had Daenerys by his side almost constantly. Ghost and Rhaegal too. Yet Sansa believed that it would take some time for him to get over the losses he'd suffered and one in particular.

Turning her thoughts from her brothers, for now, Sansa readied for her day. She walked from her room and was immediately joined by Sandor. Though she'd not asked him as of yet, he'd pretty much appointed himself as her sworn shield. It was something she was most grateful for. As she was for the others who helped her deal with the duties that had fallen to her. Lord Davos, Princess Sarella, and others had all offered her advice and help when she'd requested it. Soon enough there would be others who'd do so too, as Lord Manderly, Lady Dustin, and more of those who'd traveled south away from the battle would arrive within a day or two.

"My brothers?" she asked Sandor as they walked through the halls of Winterfell.

"The Godswood."

"Very Well. Have you eaten?"

The lack of a reply almost made her chuckle. While he may or may not have already broken his fast, Sansa knew that Sandor would eat with her now too. So it proved to be as they took their seat in the Great Hall and she broke her fast on warm porridge and some warmed milk. Sandor enjoyed far meatier fare as he ate the bacon and sausage hungrily. Looking around the Great Hall, Sansa soon found her eyes drawn to Tyrion Lannister. He too mourned someone and yet there was something in his expression at times that Sansa liked not.

Princess Sarella broke her fast with her sister and Ser Bronn of the Blackwater. The latter had covered himself in glory somewhat by saving both women from Wights during the Battle of Winterfell. Sansa offered a polite bow of her head to Lord Howland Reed who sat with his daughter Meera. Before then offering a sad smile to the men of the Riverlands who'd soon be departing and would bear her uncle's body back to Riverrun. She'd already sent a raven naming Edmure as a hero and offering her Goodaunt her condolence. Before they left she'd write Roslin a letter too. One that named his acts even more true.

Hearing the hall hush, Sansa turned to see Daenerys, Rickon, Lyanna Mormont, Lord Davos and Jon enter and take their seats. Only one of her brothers acknowledged her as they did so. Though given Jon barely acknowledged anyone, Sansa would not hold it against him. She looked at him with great sympathy as he went through the motions of breaking his fast. Jon only ate when prompted to by either Rickon or Daenerys and even then, he did so without any great gusto.

"He needs to shake himself out of his moods," Sandor said.

"He needs time," she replied firmly.

Rising to her feet, she offered both her brothers her warmest smile, and then along with Sandor, Sansa walked out from the Great Hall and out into the courtyard. While she may not have done so with a direction in mind, she was not surprised by where her feet carried her. Standing at the Crypts doors, she sighed and steadied herself before walking in through them. Soon enough she was passing by the statues of her grandfather, uncle, aunt, and father. The space beside them was empty and yet ready to accept Arya's body when it was interred there and Sansa stood in front of it silently. Only to be almost scared witless when the shape moved out of the shadows.

"Uncle Benjen, you scared me," she said reproachfully.

"Forgive me, niece. I find myself lost at times when I'm here."

"I know the feeling."

Sansa had no true understanding of her uncle's condition. By all rights he should be dead and yet he stood and moved as if he was not. Whether he breathed or his heart beat, she knew not. But he was not a Wight and Benjen himself could offer up no true explanation as to why he still lived. If that was what it was he actually did. All he'd been able to say was that he'd expected to fall when the Night King did, yet for some reason, he did not.

"How's Jon?" her uncle asked, taking her from her thoughts.

"The same. He's not ready to say goodbye yet," she said looking at the ground that Arya would soon name her final resting place.

"None of us are."

"Have you decided upon your future, uncle?"

"Aye. I'll travel back beyond the Wall. Go back and make sure there is no sign of the dead anywhere and mayhap help the Free Folk rebuild."

"Will you return?" she asked worriedly.

"Aye, if the gods will it so."

"You'll not leave until after….." she said looking back to the disturbed ground in front of her.

"No. Nor until Jon heads back south."

Though it somewhat discomforted her to do so, Sansa embraced Benjen and felt his coldness as she did so. Walking out of the Crypts, it was to Bran's room that she next went and though she didn't stay there long, she found no change. Sansa closed the door behind her to the sound of Bran's voice ringing in her ears.

"Hodor."

She made her way to Rickon's solar and spent the rest of the day going over papers and making plans for the North. The war was won but the battle with winter could still cost them much. Daenerys had promised that food would arrive from Essos to help them and there would be coin made available to them from her own coffers too. Though whether or not that was a loan or something else, Sansa still hadn't been told.

They needed to appoint new lords and replace some of those who'd been lost. Young Ned Umber had fought valiantly and lost his life and with him, the Umbers, were now no more. So someone would need to be appointed as Lord of Last Hearth. There was the matter of the Dreadfort too and while she had a claim to it, given her forced marriage, it would not be one she'd be pursuing.

After a long day, Sansa ate her nightly meal in the Great Hall and did so while sitting in Rickon's seat at the High Table. Neither of her brothers had attended nor had Daenerys while Bran would be fed in his own rooms and far from anyone's sight. Sansa did her best to act as the hostess she was meant to be. She spoke to everyone she could. Offered up smiles and words of gratitude to different people over the course of the night and even danced with more than one man though she wished not to. Before heading to her bed, she spoke briefly to Lord Davos about things they needed to make ready for the funeral services and other plans they needed to come together on. Then she bid everyone a good night and along with Sandor made her way to her room.

"Thank you, Sandor," she said as she entered the room, his mumbled response going unheard.

Tonight it was as she was getting into her bed that the tears came. Sansa sobbed herself to sleep as she held her pillow tightly to her chest. Her dreams when she did sleep were of days long passed. Memories that she'd forgotten about and adventures that at the time had annoyed her greatly. Being hit with mud as she wore her new dress and walked through the courtyard. getting spattered with food at the feast when Robert Baratheon had come to Winterfell. Mainly though it was laughter and being held in her sister's arms after what had happened with Littlefinger. That and Arya's smiling face when she pulled some prank on her.

Waking the next morning, Sansa rose and made ready for another day as the Lady of Winterfell. Those who had traveled south would be returning and she had much she needed to discuss. The funerals and her final goodbye to her sister would soon be occurring and though inside her heart was as broken as Jon's or Rickon's was, for now, she once again forewent her own mourning and concentrated on her duties once more.

Winterfell 304 AC.

Lord Davos Seaworth.

Winter might have left the North with the end of the Night King, yet for Davos, it seemed Winterfell had lost all of its warmth. Most of the people who'd survived the Long Night were grieving the loss of their loved ones. Yet while the new Lord of Storm's End mourned some of the people he had fought with, it was the Starks, most precisely Baelon Targaryen who made him curse the Gods more than once.

Davos had tried to forget the man's distraught face as he raced around with the cold body of his sister in his arms. He had tried to forget the unsettling feeling of dread as Baelon's cries rang out through the yard.

"Where is she? Where is Melisandre? Has someone seen the Red Woman?"

Davos had wanted to run, to deny the truth, and to run far from the man. For how could he face him, knowing what had happened?

He had wished with all he was not to be the one to crush the man's hope. He couldn't talk, couldn't say out loud that she was gone for the life of him and he was ashamed of what he would have to admit to.

I'm sorry, lad. She saved me and she died for it.

"Ser Davos? Have you…"

He didn't get to say anything in the end, as the necklace he held in his hand had answered for him. Davos remembered the changing expression on Baelon's face, from shock, disbelief, and denial and finally to utter despair. He didn't think his heart could break any more after losing Mathos. Then he had been proven wrong and thought he had hit the lowest point of his life when he heard about Shireen's demise. Seeing the spark of life leave Baelon Targaryen's eyes as the latter realized his little sister wouldn't be brought back, had destroyed Davos almost completely.

Even more so since he was the cause of the lad's suffering.

Davos hated this, hated to be alive while Arya was dead, and he hated, even more, himself for the fact that part of him felt happy for not inflicting the same pain upon his family.

The conflicting emotions had prevented him from falling asleep, so he took it upon himself to help out around the keep as much as he could. Queen Daenerys was juggling between her role as queen and her husband, and Davos felt the least he could do was to alleviate her duties. He had sent a message to Lady Dustin to confirm the end of the Long Night and to urge the evacuees to return to their homes. With the Maester and Lady Sansa, who too had buried herself into work around Winterfell to ease her grief, they were waiting for them to arrive that day and also prepared to see to the men of the West and the Riverlands' departure.

"Ser Devan suggested that Ser Jaime be brought to Casterly Rock, so he would be treated with the honors he deserves for saving the Seven Kingdom and its king. Queen Daenerys has answered favorably to his request," he explained to them.

"Has Tyrion said anything about leaving with them?" Sansa inquired.

"Lord Tyrion doesn't seem too keen on leaving for now. He and his cousin are not on speaking terms and Ser Devan has expressed his… reluctance at traveling in his company." Maester Wolkan said, making Davos chuckle despite his mood.

"Meaning we will have to host him a little while longer, I imagine?" Sansa sighed at the maester's nod.

"I had thought that honoring his brother would take precedence over everything else, given how the man reacted to his death, but it seems that I had been mistaken," Davos answered, thinking back to the moment he had to announce Jaime Lannister's fate to the Queen's former's Hand.

Tyrion had stood vigil next to Jaime's body, crying and saying out loud how life was unfair, unaware of the eyes and ears of those standing beside him.

"They treated you like dirt. Said you were no knight. And you give your life for them. Why? Why would you do such folly for people who despise you?"

"Because that is what a true knight does, my lord." Davos had intervened. "He has redeemed his honor, and is a true hero."

"What good does being a hero do when you do not breathe anymore?" Tyrion had said bitterly. "Was the sacrifice worth it, truly? To get his name restored?"

"He protected his king, Lord Tyrion. He saved his life."

"Indeed. After planting his sword on Aerys' back, he dies the same way protecting his grandson. The irony is not lost on me, Lord Davos."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."

"No offense taken. 'Tis the way of life. What goes around comes around." Tyrion said bitterly before exiting the room, leaving Davos perplexed by their exchange.

"He has insisted on accompanying the Queen back to King's Landing, to help out with the aftermath of the destruction caused by his family." Maester Wolkan stated and Davos was glad to see Sansa react as he did.

"What do you make of his proposal, Lady Sansa?" he asked the young woman.

"I doubt he is doing it from the goodness of his heart. He may hope to get in the Queen's good graces by being close to the people."

"I think so too. I find it very strange that instead of sending help to King's Landing, he decided to come to Winterfell in the first place."

"You and I both, my Lord… Now that the war has ended, we should watch him closely. My brother will soon be alone in King's Landing and I would rather not have Tyrion Lannister standing next to him."

"Baelon will never be alone, Sansa," Davos said, the way he spoke conveying the silent promise he had made ever since he came back from the dead.

They will need you both in the years to come… Melisandre's feeble voice rang through his mind.

"I know you'll be by Baelon's side and protect him to the utmost of your ability, and it gladdens me to be able to count you as one of my brother's closest friends. He has lost so much already…"

"And so have you, Sansa."

"Any word from the Iron Islands?" she asked shakily.

"Not yet. I suppose Queen Yara too needs time to mourn."

Davos had been the one to send the message about Theon's death. What he had learned through Rickon's last council had shaken him to the core. Had he not seen people coming back to life and other miracles through the last years of his life, then the fact that a Faceless Man had used the opportunity of the war to exert his vengeance on Arya Stark would have shocked him.

Bran Stark's involvement, though, truly had. Davos remembered feeling as much rage against the crippled boy as he had for the Red Woman when he'd heard about Shireen.

"He should die for his crimes." Sansa had spat while Baelon remained apathetic.

"We are not kinslayers, sister." Rickon had intervened.

"He… He let Theon die, and then… Arya…"

"And I did what I had to do to see him punished for his crimes."

"What do we say to Theon's family? That someone took his face to kill our sister?" Sansa insisted, her anger for once getting the best of her.

"From what I'd heard about the Faceless Men, we cannot know for sure when Theon died. He could have been in King's Landing when it happened. Or even before."

"Queen Yara will probably wage war on the North if she knew that her brother died just to get to Arya." Sansa retorted. "She already hates the Starks and she will want to have justice."

"This is why we cannot tell her what happened." Queen Daenerys intervened, to everyone's surprise. "We should send her a message, telling her that her brother died a hero, as we did for the others we lost. That is all she needs to know."

"The Queen is right," Davos added. "Yara Greyjoy might not like it, but she will accept the fact that her brother sacrificed himself for the North. She will not, however, accept that he would be killed for a senseless reason. She might call for Bran's head and…"

"She can have it."

Silence fell as Baelon stood up and walked away, everyone looking around in shock as the king's last word seemed to reverberate in the room until Rickon broke it.

"Killing Bran would be a mercy for him. After all that he provoked, all that he did, he deserves to suffer until the Gods decide otherwise."

Sansa's voice brought him back from his thoughts, finally calling the meeting to an end, for which Davos was grateful. He went to the Great Hall to take his early meal, as he usually did, but only for necessity. The truth was that Davos had been unable to enjoy the taste of anything since he came back from the dead. He didn't know if it was normal and couldn't tell anyone about it. Especially since the only two people he knew had lived the same experience would probably hate him should they know the truth.

The Great Hall was full of laughter and music when he entered it. The Freefolk and the Northmen wanted to honor their fallen in a boisterous way while those from the South drank in relative silence. A previous discussion with some Lords of the West and the Vale made it clear that they looked forward to leaving this place and never coming back. While at the same time some of them worried for their King that he wouldn't be able to rule given the way he behaved.

The Queen rose to her feet, her movement commanding solemnity and silence around her. She gave a look to Rickon and Sansa, who both nodded, and then started her speech.

"Tonight, we get together to celebrate the lives of those we've lost, as well as thank those who've bravely fought with us. King Baelon, as well as King Rickon, both want to reward those who have bled at their side, and I too want to participate in fashion. Ser Daven Lannister, Ser Bronn of the Blackwater, Lord Howland Reed, Ser Patrek Mallister, Lord Edric Dayne, step forward."

Murmurs rang into the crowd as the persons called came before the High Table.

"Ser Daven, my goodsister Lady Sansa has told me much of the War of the Five Kings and the everlasting enmity between House Stark and House Lannister. Some crimes cannot be forgiven, but they are crimes that had been ordered by men since long dead. They say the North Remembers, but while most of it applies to the wrongs done to them, they can recognize the good deeds that men do as well. You and your men came to our aid, and while I know I may have ordered you to do so, I know too that we all owe you and your men a lot for the help that you were willing to send afterward."

" 'Tis nothing but what should be done, Your Grace."

"Indeed, and we all are thankful for that, hence why, with the agreement of my husband, we decided to gift you this." Daenerys nodded to Jorah who handed her the sheathed sword which she then passed to Ser Daven who unsheathed it a moment later.

"This… This is a Valyrian Sword?"

"Our greatsword Ice was reforged in two and given to the Lannisters during the War of the Five Kings," Sansa explained. "Ser Jaime gifted his to Ser Brienne of Tarth and took the one that had been gifted to Joffrey when he died. Both Ser Jaime and Ser Brienne have lost their lives in this battle and we've been given our heirloom back. However, while my brother, King Rickon, had accepted to take back Ser Brienne's sword."

"My husband thinks that Ser Jaime's should be gifted to you, Ser Daven. A true knight of House Lannister." the Queen added, smiling, while Baelon seemed to shrink into his seat at the mention of the dead.

"I… I would never…"

"We would request, however, given the former name of this blade, that it be given another one, less… reminding of the past."

"I… Thank you, Your Graces. Lady Sansa. King Rickon." Ser Daven blubbered, still in shock.

"May this blade become the symbol of a new beginning, for the North and the South. A mending of the rifts between House Stark and House Lannister who both bled together for the Dawn to rise."

"It will, Your Grace. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New." Daven said, still somewhat in shock at the gift he'd been given.

More gifts had been distributed, some that had been discussed before the war, such as the sharing out of the Twins. The lands and castle north of the Green Fork belonged now to the Reeds and the ones in the south to the Mallisters. None of the rewards however were more surprising to Davos than the castle Ser Bronn had received.

Somehow Castle Darry was to be his, by a decree from the Queen stating that he would become a Lord of the Riverlands and take a name of his choosing. An idea that seemed to please both him, his lover, and some Riverlords, Though Davos noticed Tyrion leaving in a hurry when the new Lord jested about the Crown being the ones giving him what was owed by the Lannisters.

"Was it your doing?" he heard Bronn ask the lady Tyene as he came back to his seat.

"I owed you this, for saving my sister's life," she answered almost shyly.

"You more than thanked me for that with that wicked tongue of yours."

"Mayhaps, mayhaps. Let's say that you owe me now!" Tyrene said with a wicked wink of her eye and a wanton expression on her face.

"That I do." Bronn chuckled, making Davos shake his head and smile.

There were more toasts made and men and women honored and Davos felt the need to leave the Great Hall sooner rather than later. Rising to his feet, he moved slowly enough so he could be seen yet quick enough to move through the crowd of people who were rising to cheer at each announcement. So concentrated was he in doing so that he never even noticed the girl when she moved to join him.

"I sense your uneasiness, my Lord," Missandei said, catching him off guard. "Do you want to go for a walk with me?"

He nodded, not knowing why he did so. Missandei's return had been a balm to his wounded heart. Seeing her interact happily with her lover since they had reunited had made him think of the good of being alive. He would be able to see Marya and his children soon, and as he welcomed the thought, the guilt he felt battled with it in his heart. They walked into the yard, past the point where he had fallen and Davos shivered as he remembered his fate. As they got past the smithy, his heart tightened as he thought about Gendry, who was presumed dead as he never made it back to the keep. Mayhaps it was a mercy for the lad, given how close he was to Arya, that he didn't get to outlive her.

"May I ask you a question?" she started.

"Of course, my Lady."

"Has something happened between you and the King?"

Davos tensed and shook his head.

"King Baelon is… deeply affected by the aftermath of the war -"

"The Queen has told me and Lady Wylla about the King's condition. I understand that losing his favorite sister and most of his friends may have taken a toll on King Baelon, which saddens me greatly on his behalf. However, I saw how you purposefully evade him and I wondered if something more happened between the two of you."

"I… I can't stand seeing him broken." Because of me, he wanted to add but shook his head instead after the thought crossed his mind.

"This doesn't sound like you."

"Pardon?"

"I have not known you for a long time, my Lord Davos, but I watched you closely ever since I arrived with my Queen in this cold and unwelcome place." Missandei started, her soft smile melting the frown away from Davos' face. "You have always been close to the Starks, closer even when it seems they struggled with their own conflicting emotions. Now, you cannot even stay near young Rickon. I feel like there is more to it than giving them time to mourn their sister."

"You are definitely very observant, my Lady."

"Just Missandei, my Lord. You've always been good to me and I hope I can return the favor. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know if I can. Not that I can't trust you, I know I can. It's just -"

"What you say will stay between us," Missandei stated firmly.

"You won't be able to talk to the Queen about it," Davos said, not knowing why he felt the sudden urge to confess to a stranger, but the opportunity of getting it off his chest was something he didn't know he craved so.

"I swear it on… The Old Gods… and the New? Is that the correct saying?" Missandei asked and her sudden shyness got over Davos' last reserves.

He told her it all. How he'd died, like Rickon, like Baelon, and how like both of them the Red Woman, the person he despised the most, had revived him. Although this time with the exception that she didn't live long after whatever ritual she'd performed. He showed her the wound and told her about Melisandre's last words. Davos expressed his discomfort, his guilt knowing that he'd prevented Arya Stark from getting a chance to live, and how scared he was that all the Starks would blame him for it.

Not once did Missandei stop him, for which he was grateful, even if saw her frown deepen from time to time. When he was done, he was mentally drained and realized he was crying.

"I think you should talk to Rickon Stark." was all she said in the end.

"How? How can I face him, knowing I…"

"You are lost. You've been brought back from the dead and you are scared and lost. It is perfectly understandable to be so, but you need help to get over your fears. Do you truly think Rickon Stark would trade your life for his sister?"

"Arya was their favorite and -"

"You fear they would hate you, even when you weren't the one making the decision. The Red Woman decided to save you. She said you had things to do. If she was to save Arya Stark, she would have done so instead of you." Missandei said, shaking his beliefs to the core.

"She wasn't supposed to die."

"I know. Bran Stark's actions cost Arya Stark her life. But the Red Woman knew of her fate, didn't she? I heard her more than once stating this fact."

"Aye, she claimed she did."

"What if she always knew she would die saving you, Ser Davos? Have you thought of the possibility?"

Missandei's words made his internal turmoil pause. He remembered Melisandre's words.

"They will need you both in the years to come."

"I don't understand…..this makes no fucking sense. I was dead and now…You were young and now…"

"My time is done, Ser Davos."

Could it be? Would she know her fate would be to die to save his life?

"Valar Morghulis, Lord Davos. All men must die. It was the Red Woman's time. I am glad it was not yours yet, and I am sure others are too, even those you don't think would be." Missandei smiled gently, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Since you are not dead, it means you have to do the other part of the saying."

"Which is?"

"Valar Dohaeris. All men must serve," she answered, nodding as she walked away to leave him with his thoughts.

Never had he imagined that Melisandre's death would be related to his own. The mere thought of it seemed ridiculous, yet it was known that the witch didn't shy away from whatever duty she thought she had. Many times had he been close to death, yet Melisandre had reassured him it was not his time. He never understood why she had strangely saved his life when he'd freed Gendry to prevent him from being sacrificed. Nor why she never feared him ending her life when he wanted to do so many times.

Did she truly know? Then if so, why hadn't she saved herself?

They will need you both in the years to come.

Anger bloomed in Davos' heart. He already felt miserable owing her his life, she who he despised so much and wanted to see dead for the crimes she had committed. If this was true, if Melisandre knew that she was supposed to die saving his life, then he didn't know how to feel about it.

He was about to go back to the Great Hall when he spotted Rickon walking outside.

"Trying to sneak away, lad?" he joked, feeling the need to lighten the mood.

"Celebrations are no fun when you are not allowed to drink."

"You're too young to get drunk," he said chidingly.

"So I've been told, but I feel I deserve at least a mug of ale."

"Just one mug?" Davos asked and Rickon nodded with something akin to excitement. "Then come. I have some in my room."

Whether Missandei's words got to him more than he had thought, or the proximity to the King in the North did, he ended up telling him what burdened him for so many days while the boy was drinking his ale. Rickon stared at him with disbelief before putting his mug away and walking toward Davos, making the latter feel nervous about his reaction.

"Do you feel different? From before I mean." Rickon asked.

"I feel… conflicted. I do not know what to think. Why did she decide I was worth bringing back, why her God decided to bring me back? Why me and not -"

"Why you and not another?" the boy finished at the same time and Davos nodded, feeling his heart beat wildly. "I remember feeling the same. I didn't know why they brought me back and not father, or Robb. I had to be Lord of Winterfell, then King in the North, and have all these responsibilities when I should have been dead. I remember what Jon told me then. You were the one who convinced him to go on with his life. Do you recall what you told him?"

Davos nodded, his throat tightening under the weight of the emotions he felt.

"You go on. You fight for as long as you can. You clean up as much of the shit as you can."

"I don't know how to do that. I thought I did, but... I failed."

"Good. Now go fail again."

"A wise man once told me that life was unfair but we fuckers have been given another chance at it," Rickon said, smiling fondly and making Davos do the same as he guessed who he was speaking about. "We've been through a lot, all of us. Don't think too much and enjoy this second chance, Davos. You deserve it."

Rickon's words lifted part of the guilt weighing on Davos' heart. The old man's last reserve fell down and he began sobbing, cursing himself for letting a boy see how broken he was and finding solace in the little taps on his shoulder. Rickon Stark should be the one to be consoled, as he had seen far too much at his age and had gotten to do things Davos himself wouldn't have been able to do. He allowed himself this little moment of weakness, secretly swearing that he would follow Rickon's advice. He might not be able to erase his guilt fully, nor the conflicting emotions inside of him, but he would try his best to repay what he owed.

After all, he would be needed for the years to come.

Winterfell 304 AC.

Lyanna Mormont.

Grief was something she was used to, ever since the Red Wedding. She had promised herself to close her heart to it once she had shared all the tears she could upon hearing of her mother and sister's death. Lyanna had stilled herself, following in her mother's example, as the woman was of the North and death was part of their daily lives. Especially because of the many threats that surrounded Bear Island. The only emotions Lyanna had allowed herself to show were anger and disdain. Using them to rebuke and set anyone and everyone, who dared to try and manipulate her due to her age, straight in the process.

She had bonded with Rickon Stark due to this. The simmering anger they both felt at the world being a shitty place was a shared experience. Yet seeing him now, as broken as his older brother, all sparks of anger and hatred burning under his grief and sorrow, made her angrier on his behalf because it stirred the same emotions in her.

They were of the North, both Baelon and Rickon, and she understood they needed time to mourn Arya. Lyanna herself would miss her truly, for the Lady's principles were much the same as hers.

Protect your family, your loved ones, and your people, at all costs.

The Starks had waited for all the Lords and Ladies of the North willing to pay their respects to Arya before putting her in her tomb. They had held a private ceremony, with only Benjen, Rickon, Sansa, Baelon, and Daenerys Targaryen present. It was a surprise to some that someone other than a Stark would be allowed in the crypts during the ceremony, but not to Lyanna. She knew that Daenerys Targaryen had grown to enjoy Arya's company and the fact that Arya had considered her as part of the pack had touched the queen greatly.

Rickon was barely holding on. He had talked to a few of the Lords, but he was clearly not the same and it was not only because of Arya's death.

Bran Stark's fate weighed on his mind and seemed to at times almost bring him to the verge of madness.

"I can hear him still," Rickon said when they were sparring to unwind their building emotions.

"We all do, Rickon. He yells most of the time that same word and as disturbing as it is, it is what he deserves, you said so yourself."

"No, you do not understand. I can hear him. I can understand what he says, and I just want him to stop, but I can't. My powers… I can't control them anymore." he said to her shock.

"What do you mean?" Lyanna asked worriedly, more for Rickon's own sake than out of any fear for herself or others.

"When I went into his mind and shut him inside, he became as… As a familiar to me. And I cannot get rid of him because I'm too weak to control it. I tried. I tried again and again, for the last few days. I can't stop his fucking pleas and his begging or his denials, even though he was the one to ruin our family."

"Want me to kill him?" she asked only half in jest.

"No. That's what he wants. He wants to stop suffering, and I want him to experience pain for every single hour of whatever is left of his fucking miserable life."

"What about you? What will you do?" she asked more softly.

"If my sanity is the price to pay for doing something forbidden, then I will have to accept it," Rickon said firmly, but Lyanna could feel his unease.

"I can knock him out from time to time if you want to have some quiet inside your head."

"I would appreciate that greatly," Rickon said, the first glimpse of the smile she had missed, now reappearing on his face.

She didn't get the time to act, as Princess Sarella soon came up with a suggestion that her friend took on board immediately. Dreamwine was then added to Bran's meals so he would stay in a lethargic state. The Princess had offered to send them some Sweetsleep after she'd arrived back in Dorne. Sarella informed them both that Bran could get used to the Dreamwine. The suggestion was one that Rickon agreed to gratefully.

Everyone was unnerved by the former Three-Eyed Raven as they were by what had happened while they were fighting for their lives. The tale of what he did to his own sister had spread into their ranks and nobody felt any sympathy for the boy at all.

The Lords and Ladies of the North had been summoned to the Godswood a few days later, much to Lyanna's unease. So much had happened there in so little time that she didn't feel comfortable around that place anymore. Especially knowing how it affected Rickon, who was trying helplessly to get his powers back.

"I guess the Old Gods really only needed me to stop Bran from creating more chaos. They aren't answering my prayers and I… I can't feel them as I did before."

"You're exhausted, Rickon. You're pushing yourself too hard." she retorted harshly.

"I need to… I have to shake Jon out of his grief." Rickon insisted. "I've seen what happens if he doesn't. He… I cannot, I will not let Bran win and take him from me too."

Her friend's distress echoed in Lyanna, his need to do something for his brother matching her own need in regard to him. It reminded her of a time when Rickon was struggling with Baelon's absence and being the King in the North, and the way he'd relied upon her and the council members to help him through it. She wasn't as close to him as she was at that moment, yet she had felt the same desire to help him.

"You're trying too much. Just be yourself. Talk to your brother as you used to."

"I…"

"You've closed yourself to him, to Sansa, because you feel you should be strong for them. They don't need you to be strong. They don't want you to solve their problems. They don't need King Rickon. They need you. The real you."

She saw his facade crumble and it pained her greatly.

"I failed them, Lyanna. I failed my family," he whispered as tears fell on his cheeks, making her move toward him instantly.

She tightened her grip around his hips as she felt his body ease up against her and let him cry on her shoulder.

"You can't control everything. You could not foresee what would happen and nobody blames you except for yourself. Stop this. She wouldn't like you to feel bad because of her. She would want you to live and do what you do best. Protect your people."

"Thank you, Lyanna," he said when he stopped crying. "I hadn't realized how much I needed this. Thank you for always making sense of things for me."

"That's what I'm here for, Your Grace." she scoffed and frowned when he gave her a sad smile. "What?"

"This. I'm going to miss this. You calling me Your Grace." he sighed as she startled. "I will talk to the Lord and Ladies and tell them of my decision to step down as King of the North. I will bend the knee to him, but I won't force them to do the same."

"I don't… I don't get it. How?"

"You will soon, I promise."

As she stood next to a nervous Talia Forrester, she watched with bated breath her friend standing in front of the Godswood, ready to speak.

"You must be wondering why I asked you to meet with me here rather than in the Great Hall…"

"Actually, we were wondering what took you so long, Your Grace." Barbrey Dustin retorted, smirking. "You're about to bend the knee to the dragons, are you not?"

"I will bend the knee to my brother, King Baelon Targaryen, and swear fealty to my goodsister Queen Daenerys because they have fought for our survival. In our time of greatest need. They were who gathered the resources and men to help us and Baelon himself was the one to end our biggest foe."

"This, I will not deny, Your Grace. I was all for bending the knee to him when I heard of his victory against the Night King. But your brother has not been himself ever since…"

"For good reasons." Lyanna couldn't help adding.

"Begging your pardon, The Rickon, but The Baelon is barely holding on." Brandon Norrey said.

"Aren't we all?" she butted in once more, feeling annoyed at her peers.

"I understand your concerns, and this is why I alone will bend the knee to him," Rickon said to gasps. "I know that neither King Baelon nor Queen Daenerys wishes the North any harm. If anything, they would accept it as being its own realm. I will stand beside and with my family, and if the North thinks they still need their independence, then we will give you leave to choose a new King or Queen of the North."

"You… You would abandon us?" Talia asked weakly.

"My House remains of the North and Winterfell is our home, Lady Forrester. I will however only pledge myself and not demand it of anyone else." Rickon answered.

"So you mean to leave with them? That is what you mean. Have you talked to Lady Sansa about this?" Lyanna said in turn, making the murmurs of the crowd grow.

"Should you wish to follow my sister, you will find in her a true Lady of the North, working hard for her people and -"

"You'll leave her alone...when she has lost so much?" Lyanna cut him off harshly.

"I do not mean to stay away from her or my home for long. She is my pack, you are too, but my brother needs me more at this moment. It would not be fair to the North, to you, nor to him to choose-"

"How is it fair when you're clearly admitting to choosing him over us!" Lyanna shouted angrily.

"HE IS MY BROTHER, LYANNA!"

"AND SANSA IS YOUR SISTER! WE ARE YOUR FRIENDS! YOU ALSO HAVE A DUTY TOWARD US. HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO US?"

'To me'

Lyanna realized that her anger had gotten the best of her and turned away, not wanting to show how betrayed she felt at that moment. She'd believed him when he'd said they were a pack and so she'd opened up to him. The fact that he was willing to discard her after all she did for him, after all they shared together, broke her heart and filled her with as much anger as it did hurt.

"I am not fit to be your king. I have never been. My purpose was to unite you all for the War and I wasn't even able to do so. You did. You, Lord Manderly, Lady Dustin, the Northern council, and the Free Folk. You needed someone to rally behind and for a time, I was the one you chose. But I am not the same. Not anymore. I cannot be a good King when my loyalties are split between my people and my brother. I am a child of the North and I will always be. I could order you to bend the knee as my last act as King in the North, but I will not. I respect you all too much to force you to make a decision. This is why I came here to make a vow to all of you."

"A vow?" Barbrey Dustin repeated, confusion clearly visible on her face.

"Should you bend the knee to my brother and he finds himself not the person I believe him to be, the one that will care for the North's interests and remember where he comes from, the one that will come to our aid in time of need. Then I, Rickon of House Stark, solemnly vow to you and the Old Gods, in front of the Heart Tree, that I will stand with the North."

"Against your own brother?" Barbrey insisted.

"You know what I'm capable of. Whether you believe me or not is up to you at this point."

"You truly think this is the right choice? That the Baelon will get better?" Artos Flint asked.

"The future's not set in stone, but the Old Gods have shown me what path I shall take to ensure it. More than anything, this is why I have to step down. I can only be who I am meant to be by being myself. Not a king, not a Lord, but a servant of the Old Gods and one who needs to protect his pack."

"You've done a lot of things people here would not be able to comprehend, all by the Old Gods' will. You've rid us of a foe who would have brought the Seven Kingdoms to its ruin, and I am not speaking of the Night King." Howland Reed stated after a moment. "If you believe this is the way to make the North prosper, then I trust your judgment. I would have pledged myself and my House to Lyanna's son anyway, but now I do so with peace and certainty in my heart."

"I thank you, Lord Reed. For everything. If it weren't for you and Meera, I…"

"There's no need for any thanks, Rickon. We are all but servants of the Old Gods." Howland said and his daughter nodded.

"Both you and Baelon Targaryen have earned my trust, too. If you swear that you will protect the North, then I will follow your lead." Wyman Manderly declared.

"I will always protect the North, wherever I am, my Lord," Rickon swore and Lyanna could not take it anymore.

As one by one, the Lords and Ladies of the North vowed to bend the knee to the new King of the Seven Kingdoms, setting Rickon free from his duty towards them, she felt overwhelmed by her grief and soon moved to walk away from the scene and towards the First Tower. She wanted to be alone to vent her frustrations, but the direwolf behind her seemed to have other ideas.

"I suppose he asked you to follow me?" she grumbled, annoyed as Nymeria seemed to nod. "Seven hells! Why won't he let me be? He's getting what he wants, what more does he need from me?"

The grey wolf came close to her and surprised her by forcing her to nestle against her.

"I don't want to… I don't need to…" Lyanna's protests were muffled into Nymeria's fur and the situation looked so ridiculous that she began to laugh.

She laughed and laughed until she could do so no more. She laughed at life, at where she stood, feeling hurt by a boy she thought was her friend, her family, leaving her again. Jorah too she knew would be joining the Targaryens when they left. She was doomed to be alone, to stay alone, and soon her tears were falling and she was sobbing against a direwolf's fur.

How long did she stay like that, Lyanna didn't know or care. She hadn't realized that she needed to let out her feelings this way until given the opportunity. So while she internally cursed Rickon Stark for making her appear weak, she was also thankful that he knew her enough to send Nymeria to comfort her.

"If you tell him… If you say anything to him, I swear to the Old Gods I'll find a way to hurt you. All big and menacing you may look, but believe me, I am fiercer than you." Lyanna threatened when she stopped sobbing, earning an eye roll and a playful shove from the wolf in return.

The interaction made her smile, reminding her of what Arya Stark would have done, and she shook her head annoyed at herself while thinking about what she had said to Rickon.

"I was truly selfish, wasn't I? He said he felt staying near Bran would make him go crazy, and when he finds a way to leave, I just yell at him. I just… It hurts to let go of my only friend." she finally admitted.

"It hurts to leave you too, but I do not plan on being away for long." Rickon's voice rang out from behind her, making her jump in fright.

She hid her head in Nymeria's fur, unwilling to look at him.

"I'm sorry, Lyanna. Truly I am. I wanted to tell you before everyone else because you're my most trusted friend, but -"

"But you didn't."

"I didn't. I need to do this, and call me craven if you want, but I was afraid you would try to make me change my mind on this."

"As if someone could get through that thick head or yours," she mumbled.

"You can. Only you," he said, making her shiver. "But this is the right choice for me."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I went to Bran this morning after I made up my mind. I wanted to confront him and tell him what I would do."

"What did he say? Did he curse you like the last time or did he beg you to stay?"

"None of this. He just said 'Hodor'." Rickon answered and she could hear the relief in his voice. "For the first time since Arya's death, I could not hear him in my mind."

Lyanna's heart broke completely at those words. It was clearly a sign that her friend was getting better, yet she couldn't find in her heart the strength to rejoice for him. Not when he was leaving her.

"I didn't lie in the Godswood. Winterfell is my home, the North is my home and I will not stay away for long."

"What am I to do when you'll be away gallivanting in the South?" she said as he sat next to her.

"Gallivanting? Do you truly not know me?" Rickon chuckled, annoying her to the point of hitting him. "You go back to Bear Island, you rule your land and protect your people as always, and you keep an eye on Sansa from time to time? Please? She'll probably yell at me as you did in the Godswood and I would feel better knowing that she has someone she can count on."

She contemplated the idea of calling him out for making her do his bidding as usual and wondered how he managed to do so every time. Looking at his blue eyes she tried to deny him, wanting to do so with all of her might.

"I'll try my best. Damn you." she finally said, caving once again and cursing herself for doing so.

Lyanna had been named as an emissary for the Northern Lords, and all of them had decided to kneel to the dragons after Rickon's speech. Sansa, who had also been notified of their decision, had wanted them to kneel in the Godswood as a show of goodwill, so Lyanna was back at the place she disliked so much, for more reasons now than she previously did.

Whereas Daenerys Targaryen looked as regal as she used to, if not more, Baelon didn't seem to have rested much since the end of the war. She hesitated for a moment on what she should do, for she was the only one who hadn't openly pledged her allegiance to the Targaryens yet.

"You've requested an audience, goodbrother?" Daenerys asked, her soft smile showing how fond she was of Rickon.

"Aye, I did. The Lords of the North and myself have talked. Or should I say I exposed my point of view about our position in the Seven Kingdoms and told them what I have decided."

"What have you decided?"

Rickon took a deep breath and went on to kneel before his brother while Sansa did the same.

"I will step down as King in the North and pledge myself to my brother King Baelon, First of his Name, King of the First Men, and his wife Queen Daenerys, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar."

"House Stark swears to the King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Protectors of the Realm, for perpetuity," Sansa added.

"You don't have to do this, Rickon, Sansa…" Baelon said, his voice emotionless.

"You're our brother and we will stand with you. We stand with our pack, now and always." Rickon insisted.

"What about the Lords of the North?" Daenerys asked, looking straight at her.

"We acknowledge your role in the War of the Dawn, both of you, and follow the lead of our former king in the North. We only have one request." Lyanna answered, struggling to keep a neutral face.

"What is it?"

"The North has found its unity thanks to House Stark. We wish to keep this unity by having the Head of House Stark named Warden of the North."

"We would not have it another way." Daenerys smiled knowingly.

"Then the North is yours, Your Graces." Lyanna concluded.

"We thank you, Lady Mormont, and welcome you in the Seven Kingdoms. The North is my husband's home and we will always look to its best interests."

"I hope you will."

"I have another request, Your Grace. Concerning my House." Rickon declared, and Lyanna wondered how many times her heart could break.

Winterfell 304 AC.

Baelon Targaryen.

He tried to show her with his eyes that she shouldn't worry about him, but it was to no avail. Baelon knew he was lost and that those around him were concerned, yet for now, there was little he could do about it. Instead, he just went through the motions as best he could and tried his very best not to just break down and give into his despair. Today would be a test of just how much strength he had in him. So as he rose, washed, and dressed, he begged the Old Gods to let him make it through without faltering too much.

They broke their fasts and just like every meal he'd eaten since he'd seen her body, Baelon only did so because others looked at him while he ate. Once they were done, he rubbed his hand through Ghost's fur, offered Dany the closest thing to a smile he had in him and together they made their way from the Great Hall and into the courtyard. Rickon, Sansa, Davos, and Wylla walked with him and though he could see him not, Baelon knew Rhaegal flew overhead. His dragon, just like Ghost, wished for nothing more than for his heart to fix itself after it had been broken so completely.

Soon enough they were at the gate and here his footsteps faltered. Closing his eyes, Baelon took a breath and then began to move before anyone could take his arm and bid him do so. He kept his eyes closed for some time and when he opened them it was to a sight he had hoped never to see. Row upon row of pyres littered the grounds in front of them. Body after body laid out on top of them. The heroic dead. Those who'd paid the ultimate price and whose sacrifice had ensured that the rest of them knew a morrow.

"Baelon," Dany said worriedly and Baelon nodded as he moved a little ahead of her, hoping his movement showed he was well, or at least that she bought his mummery.

Before too long, they were joined by the rest of those who'd come to pay their respects. Each and every person who named Winterfell and Wintertown their homes. All those who'd fought against the army of the dead and the Night King. Men and women from every corner of Westeros each united in their grief and loss. It was Sansa who handed him the torch and the worry in her blue eyes was something he'd never truly expected would be aimed in his direction. It showed just how far they had come in their own relationship and though he wished it had taken much less for them to be a true brother and sister, he welcomed it all the same.

"I'm well, Sansa." he lied.

He, Dany, and Rickon had spoken of the need to speak the words that would be spoken here today. It shamed him that he could not bring himself to be the one to do so and yet he knew he could not. Instead, it would fall to his wife and his brother and as a hush came over those present, Dany stepped forward.

"There are no true words that can speak of the debt that is owed to those we come to honor here today. Not a single one of us here who doesn't respect the sacrifice these brave men and women made so we knew a future. Together we all fought and played our part and some of us, the lucky ones, got to stand here and breathe free air in the brightness of the sun's shining glory because of that and the parts that those who fell played.

No man or woman did more than any other, yet those we honor today lost more than any of us because of it. Their families lost more and the world is a poorer place without a single one of those who lost their lives that day. Their courage will never be matched. Their sacrifice never forgotten and their loss never recovered from.

To the Brave Fallen, We Salute You!" Dany said, her words ringing out loudly, and then answered in kind.

"The Brave Fallen!"

"The Brave Fallen!"

"The Brave Fallen!"

As the cheers died down, Rickon moved forward. Baelon tried to offer his brother a reassuring look but no doubt failed miserably. It should not fall to him to do what Baelon himself should, yet he was thankful that his brother had the strength he did not.

"We of the North have a saying that is known to one and all. The North Remembers." Rickon said loudly "Each man and woman, every child who lives or is born from this day forward will hear the tale of the Battle for the Dawn. They'll learn of the heroes of that day. Of the King and Queen who led us through our darkest ever time. Of the battle fought between two kings, one of darkness and the other of light, and how it was our King, King Baelon Targaryen who drove his sword into the Night King's chest and brought forth the Dawn.

They'll learn how in his own words, King Baelon named each and every man and woman who fought that day just as true a hero as he was. And they'll learn of the Brave Fallen. They'll learn of Tormund Giantsbane and Brienne of Tarth. Of Ned Umber and Edmure Tully. Of Jaime Lannister and how he gave his life to protect his king.

They'll learn of all of those who fell.

To those who lost kin, I bid you to name them now. To shout out their names loudly and proudly." Rickon said.

Around the field, the voices intermingled as names of husbands, fathers, brothers, sisters, and mothers, of nieces and nephews, grandfathers, and grandmothers all rang out. Then with a simple raising of Rickon's hands, the hush was upon them all once again.

"We owe you far too much to ever repay. Yet we make you this solemn vow. The lives you bought us will not be wasted, the days we shall know because of you will be ones where we prove ourselves worthy of your sacrifice. And you will never be forgotten.

The North Remembers and we are not alone in that!"

"The North Remembers!"

"The West Remembers!"

"The Riverlands Remembers!"

"The Stormlands Remembers!"

"The Reach Remembers!"

"The Vale Remembers!"

"Dorne Remembers!"

Seven kingdoms united in their grief all shouted as one and once their words were lost in the wind, then and only then did people begin to move forward. Baelon dipped his torch into the fire and prayed once again to the Old Gods to give him the strength to do as he must. He moved forward to the pyre and felt the tears as they flowed down his cheeks. They were laying together, joined in death as they had been but briefly in life. Tormund and his beauty. Baelon's truest ever friend lay in front of him and his hand began to shake as he moved the torch to the pyre.

Words flowed through his head. Images of days gone past and in his desire not to see them and witness them once more, he was soon pushing past them. Baelon thought it was too hard to see the memories he and Tormund had shared together, given what he soon saw, he wished he'd thought differently. For he was no longer standing by the pyre watching as Tormund and Brienne were given to the flames, instead, he was back at the Crypts next to his sister's body.

"AryaAAAA!"

"ARyAAAAAA!"

"ARYAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

A few days earlier.

None of them could utter the words. Yet he knew they were hiding something terrible from him. Seeing Rickon in the distance, his shape at least as he stood looking out of his window, Baelon was both relieved and not. For if both he and Sansa were here and Arya was not, then it could only mean one thing.

"Where is Arya?"

"Where is my Sister?"

"ARYAAAAA."

"ARYAAAAA."

He ran through the courtyard, his destination unknown and when he made it to the crypts he almost broke through the doors. Looking around he couldn't see her and though it should give him some relief it did not. Racing outside, it was to the Godswood and then to the keep itself he ran. Behind him, words were shouted out and yet he cared not. He had to find her, to see her, to save her. He had to.

Guards moved out of his way and at one point he swore he saw Rickon standing with Old Nan, yet no words were spoken to him and so he was sure he just imagined it. It was the sight of Nymeria that led him to where she was. The sadness in the wolf's eyes was one that he was soon to know for true. Almost kicking the door open, he hurried into the room and the cry he let out was one that would probably be heard at the Wall itself.

"ARYAAAAA!"

She lay unmoving on the bed. Was he not already lost in his grief then he'd have thought she merely slept. Moving to her, he felt her coldness before he even touched her. Taking her in his arms, Baelon lifted her from the bed and was soon running down the halls and out into the cold air of the courtyard. No one moved or tried to stop him nor even came his way. Most averted their eyes as they couldn't bear to look at the sight he presented to them.

"Melisandre! Where is the Red Woman! Find me the Red Woman!" he shouted to one and all.

"FIND ME THE RED WOMAN!"

Davos moved towards him, his hand open and bearing her necklace in his palm. The words not needing to be spoken and Baelon fell to his knees as he cursed the gods.

"DAMN YOU ALL!"

"FUCK YOU ALL!"

"WHY HER?"

"IT WAS MEANT TO BE ME, NEVER HER, NEVER HER!"

Hands touched him and he shrugged them off. People came to him and were lucky they placed their hands on him and not his sister. For had they done so then blood would have been spilled here this day. Eventually, they left him alone. Baelon knelt in the middle of Winterfell's courtyard holding his sister in his arms and wept for some time.

At some point, he moved and walked with Arya in his arms to the Crypts. Ghost and Nymeria had joined him as had Dany and Sansa. Behind him, his sister and wife spoke of him and he cared not. Their words were like wind and though they were concerned and worried about him, Baelon was in no condition to make them feel any less so. Entering the Crypts, it was to his uncle's statue that he carried Arya and laid her down in front of. The first time he'd let her out of his arms since entering her room.

Baelon knelt and begged his uncle's forgiveness. All the anger he'd had at him over the lies about who he truly was were forgotten as instead, he told him that had he the power he'd have taken the blow that ended his sister's life. That if the gods would but give him the chance to trade places then he'd do so gladly. He begged his uncle to take her into his embrace. To hold her and keep her in his loving arms. Then he leaned down and kissed his sister's forehead before he picked her back up and carried her back to her room.

No one could reach him that night or the next. Dany's words went unanswered and not even Rickon, when he finally regained his energy, could get through to him. Baelon was a man going through the motions, a Wight in all but the fact that he breathed and his heart beat still. He found himself drawn to the Godswood more than once and though he cursed the gods as he stood in front of the Weirwood tree, he felt some little comfort there.

As he did when he was joined by Dany, Rickon, and Sansa. Later on by Wylla too when she had returned and allowed him to speak and sob against her chest while telling him all the while it was not his fault. Rhaegal and Ghost worried about him and he did his best to offer them reassurance. His touches, his unspoken words, hopefully being enough for now. He felt nothing at all when words were spoken to him. Took no respite in his food and found no sleep in his bed. Not even the feel of Dany's arms as they wrapped around him was enough to get him to sleep. And in the end, he simply perfumed a mummery of it. It was not until words were spoken about Bran that he felt anything other than despair and he embraced the hatred he had for the thing that had been his brother once.

"She can have it," he said when words were spoken of taking Bran's head from his shoulders.

Now.

Baelon was in his room with no memory of how he got there. Standing by his bed and looking down at him, Dany looked as lost as he felt. He reached out with his hand and she took it. Baelon then pulled her into the bed beside him and though they spoke not, he felt he did enough with his arms when they wrapped around her to make her feel somewhat better. He hoped he did. Sleep once again eluded him and so he quietly climbed from the bed and made his way to the window. Looking outside, he saw Rhaegal in the sky and knew he needed to speak to his dragon.

Baelon dressed quietly and moved to Dany to check if she slept soundly or not. Upon finding that she did, he wrote a small note and then moved to the door. Handing it to the two unsullied stationed there, he waved away their suggestion that they follow him and instead walked away alone. Ghost was offering up his own comfort to Nymeria and her pack and so Baelon disturbed him not. Instead, he just moved about the keep, happy in the knowledge that there were few up and about at this time of night. It took him no time to reach the main doors and to walk out into the coolness of the night.

As he walked through the courtyard and to the southern gate, in his head he called for Rhaegal to join him. Their bond was a unique one and as with Ghost, his dragon never refused his call. So eager was Rhaegal to see him and to find out he was well, that Baelon saw him land before he reached the southern gate. To bows of heads and whispered "Your Graces'" Baelon nodded, smiled, and walked out the gate in silence. He knew all eyes were on him as he moved to the green dragon and so he did his best to make it look as if this was nothing more than a simple walk at night. Something hard to do given just how eager Rhaegal was for him to fly with him once he reached him.

"Sȳrje." (Very Well) he said to a loud trill from Rhaegal as he climbed up on his back and bid him to take him for a nighttime flight.

Rhaegal flew over Winterfell and the Wolfswood, past where the battle had been fought and won, and deeper into the lands of the North itself. Deepwood Motte, Sea Dragon Point, and down along the coast before turning back towards Winterfell once more. Baelon shared as much of his feelings with Rhaegal as he could or wished to. His sadness, his despair, guilt, and loss, all of it in equal measure. He thanked the green dragon too. Praised him for all he'd done in the fight and told him that time was what he needed. Baelon prayed he was telling the truth and not that it was merely wishful thinking he was expressing.

They arrived back at Winterfell before morning broke and Baelon once again thanked and praised Rhaegal. He told him that he was so very proud of him and his brothers and that they were the true heroes of the battle they'd fought. Though he could feel that the green dragon only somewhat accepted that he'd be better in time, Baelon felt that it was enough for now.

Walking back into the keep, he resolved to speak words that offered the same comfort to those who worried so much about his well-being. A lie for now mayhap, but one that would, he hoped, be the truth in time. However, it was not to his room that he walked and as he stood outside the door, he felt a new feeling almost overwhelm him. It was one he welcomed greatly. For hatred was what he should feel for the thing that was in that room.

Moving his hand to his sword, Baelon almost smiled. Opening the door, he didn't hear the sound of the hurried steps as both Ghost and Rickon ran to join him. To stop him from what he may do if he was left alone with the thing that had been his brother once. Bran deserved death. He deserved pain and suffering and left alone with him, Baelon would bring him both. Something though held him back, it allowed him to leave the door open and to keep his hand from his sword, and instead, it was with words and not Valyrian Steel that he attacked Bran with.

"You killed her." he said angrily "As much as if you'd struck the knife in her heart yourself. Why? For a fucking throne? To see me suffer? What kind of a thing are you? She would have fought the world to see you safe. And you…..you took her from us."

"Hodor."

"Jon," Rickon said softly.

"Worry not, I'll not end this thing's life. I'd not stain my sword on it." Baelon said as he walked to the door and then stopped.

He looked back at Rickon who looked at him worriedly. His brother had explained it to Dany already, he'd told her exactly what he'd done to Bran and his reasons for it. Baelon knew both of them believed he'd not heard or not been listening, but he had. Deep down he understood and yet he was of the North and his way was the old way. By right, Bran should face the sword and Baelon should be the one who swung it. That Rickon named his punishment as truer than that, was understood and accepted, if only barely.

"Bran," Baelon called out.

"Hodor."

"It should have been you," he said as he left the room and the thing inside it behind.

Later that day they stood at the weirwood and Rickon knelt to him and Dany. it was just those closest of all to them who'd bear witness to it. He and Dany, Davos and Missandei, Lyanna Mormont and Sansa. The words meant little to him, though he welcomed the sentiment behind them. It was not until the oath was sworn first by Rickon and then by Sansa that anything truly registered in Baelon's mind.

"What, you can't," Sansa said.

"Yet it is what I must do."

Baelon looked at his brother and sister, confused by the panicked look on Sansa's face and the resolved one on Rickon's. He turned to Dany who wore a true smile and to Lyanna Mormont who looked almost heartbroken.

"What's going on?" he asked, feeling a fool for doing so as it showed he'd paid little mind to what had been said.

"Rickon wishes me to be named Lady of Winterfell and Warden of the North. He wants to go south with you and Daenerys." Sansa said pleadingly.

"Brother?" he asked, more confused now than anything.

"It's my choice, Jon. You told me I'd find my path and this is my path." Rickon said, the look in his eyes one that both begged Baelon to accept and told him the truth of why he wished to do what he was suggesting.

A part of him wanted to deny him. To tell him that this was his place and that in time he'd pull his head out of his own arse and be who he needed to be. He so very much wanted to be stronger than he was at this very moment. To put aside the grief he felt for Arya, Tormund, Jaime, and all those who'd lost their lives. Yet for now, at least, that part of him was beaten away by a different part. The simple truth was that he not only wished for Rickon by his side, but he needed it like a man needed air to breathe. As much as he needed Ghost or Rhaegal, almost as much as he needed Dany, he needed his brother and so he simply nodded his head and looked at his wife.

"Sansa Stark, in the name of his grace King Baelon Targaryen and in mine own name, we name you our Warden of the North and the Lady of Winterfell," Dany said unhesitatingly and with that Lyanna Mormont walked away from the weirwood tree and Rickon looked to him.

Again it was a simple nod of his head that took Rickon away from the Godswood and not one of them needed to ask where he had gone or who he'd gone to. Sansa reluctantly accepted her new role and with one last look at the Weirwood, Baelon was left alone or alone for a moment. He was standing looking at the tree when he felt him nearby. His uncle's presence felt different to him from anyone else's for some reason. How Benjen lived still and what sort of a life it was that he was to know, Baelon knew or cared not. That he lived was more than enough for him. Turning to face him, Baelon almost knew the words that would be spoken before they were.

"You're leaving aren't you?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Aye, I am. This is no place for me, Jon. Though with luck it won't be the last time I see it."

"You could…."

"No lad, I'm of the North and though I understand little of what I now am, I know I'll not see other lands before I'm called to join my kin."

"I…"

"I'll see the Free Folk settled, make sure that all is well Beyond the Wall. We'll see each other again, Jon."

"I'm glad we had some time, uncle."

"Aye lad, as am I."

Baelon stayed standing there alone after Benjen left, his uncle was a mystery to him and he wagered to Rickon too. Before the sadness he felt within him grew too much for him to bear, Wylla made her way to where he stood, Ghost walked with her and he felt them by his side long before he opened his eyes to see them there. As his hand rubbed through the white fur he felt the comfort of the closest thing to a mother he'd ever known taking his other hand in her own.

"You'll…"

"I will. I'll be by your side for as long as you need me, Baelon."

"Thank you," he said softly as she hugged him.

Two days later they said their goodbyes to Winterfell and the North. Or to be more accurate, Dany did so on his behalf. Other than the words he'd spoken in private to Sansa, he'd said little to any apart from the Free Folk. A promise that they would always have a place in their kingdom and a friend in him and his House that he swore to live up to and that was that. When or if he'd ever see them or the North again, only the gods knew.

Riding out the gate, he didn't look back. Baelon feared if he did so then he'd not be able to leave her behind. He feared that he'd see her atop the walls or hiding in a place that only she knew. That the memories that threatened to overwhelm him would burst forth and break him even more than he already was. Wiping tears from his eyes, he looked to his wife and brother and offered them the truest smile he'd done in days. He was not who he was meant to be, but with their help, one day he would be so again.

"Goodbye little sister," he said softly in the wind as Winterfell faded from view.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next: As Dany, Baelon and Rickon travel south and finally reach King's Landing, Tyrion's crimes come to light, and Rickon's powers grow. While Olenna is given an unexpected gift and Daario finds his queen has truly moved. Matters of the realm help Baelon's wounded heart and the new king and queen, finally begin their reign.

For those following my other fics, Dragonverse is up next followed by Revenge is a Dish and Dark Prince.

Missed Reviews.

Guest: Firstly I don't hate Ned Stark. What I try to do is show that not everything he did was perfect and that there would be people who don't see him in the same light as some do. Secondly, never once have I suggested that Ned should have claimed Jon as king when he found him. It would be suicide and while I feel he could have made a better choice than naming Jon as his bastard, I understand and accept the choice and fault him not for it.

Where I take issue with Ned is the actions post the Tower of Joy. You say Jon wished to go to the NW, well what other choice was presented to him? If you are raised to believe you're a stain on your father's white cloak, are made very aware that the woman of the House wants you far from her sight and know as a bastard you have little prospects and none are offered to you as an alternative. While all the while you see how people look at your other uncle and are told there is honor to be found at the Wall, then what exactly do you expect?

Ned could have removed any idea of going to the Wall from Jon's mind, he did not. He could have made him an offer of a different life, but he did not. So while he never actually sent Jon to the Wall, he all but did so. As Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, Ned was not without means. He could have found a role for Jon with one of his Bannermen, giving him a keep of his own, giving him his name if he was so bloody honorable. Instead, he did no more for Jon than Tywin Lannister did for Joy Hill or Walder Frey did for his bastard sons, in fact, he did much less as Walder at least tried to find brides and a future for his sons, and Tywin and he never allowed them to be sent from their halls.

Rhaegar and Lyanna as I've said to anyone who'll listen are like Schrodinger's Cat, we have no true idea of just what happened and so how at fault they were, we can't be certain. There are numerous theories, from letters sent and intercepted, to Rhaegar rescuing Lyanna from his father, to Rhaegar being a mad kidnapper and rapist, and everything in between. What we do know is this. 1. A broken betrothal doesn't mean war. 2. Someone or Brandon himself named Rhaegar a kidnapper 3. Any man who calls a prince to come out and die is fucked and 4. Even with all of the above, if Aerys wasn't mad, there still would have been no war.

So at most, Rhaegar and Lyanna lit the spark, but the kindling, the fire, they were lit by someone else. And the spark alone was not, nor would it have been enough to lead to the war that followed.

I don't blame Ned for the deaths of the Kingsguard, for the same reason I don't blame the Kingsguard for the death of those with Ned. What I do say is this. Everyone always puts the entirety of the blame on the Kingsguard when Ned is just as much, if not more at fault. At no point does he actually ask about Lyanna, say that's why he's there, or demand her release or to see her. Instead, his own words name him as an agent of Robert, and given what the KG know of Elia, Rhaenys, Aegon, and even Rhaegar's deaths, why the hell should they not fight against the man who is well known to be his brother by choice?

We have no idea of events during the time Lyanna and Rhaegar were at the TOJ. Maybe ravens were sent, letters unanswered, maybe they were not. Maybe Lyanna in her conversations made it clear that despite not wishing to be wed to Robert, Ned refused to accept it and wanted her to marry his bestest friend ever anyway. Maybe she named Ned as being more on Robert's side than hers. How much of what went down in Kl that the KG know is open to question to. So what's to say they don't believe that if it hadn't been Tywin's mad dogs it wouldn't have been Ned's?

Again I point to the words that Ned says to the KG, the conversation we know takes place, read it, and tell me at what point Ned sounds like a worried brother seeking out his sister? At what point during "I looked for you on the Trident" he even mentions Lyanna? The KG at no point refused to let Ned pass to see his sister because at no point does Ned even mention her. To them, rightly so given what he says, Ned is there to act on Robert's orders and so they are right to not let him pass. He's given them no reason to think otherwise. That's the point I'm trying to make with Ned being wrong to kill the KG, that and the fact that in some eyes, he would always have been in the wrong. Especially when not around to explain or clarify.

Jon growing up with Dany in Essos may well have been a better or worse life for him, we don't know. But let's not sit here and say that Ned's raising of him was perfect. At least had he grown up in Essos he'd have known the truth about himself, his father, and his mother, and he'd not have grown up believing he was lesser than what he was.

Again I don't blame Ned for the initial actions, in some ways he's to be much applauded for them, but those that came later are more than open to question in my mind and that's what I try to do especially the later into canon I go. Jon learning the truth and being able to go and speak to Ned would accept things far better than Jon learning the truth after he had gone to the Wall. Far better than learning the truth after being killed by his so-called brothers and far better than when he learned it in the show. That's what I try to show, Jon would be more and more bitter at Ned, the longer it took to learn the truth. That and that Ned had so many other options after rescuing Jon, none of which he even considered.

Chapter 27 Reviews.

Daryl Dixon: So glad you liked it, the Bran ending was one we picked right from the start.

Crimetar: Thanks so much, that's exactly who he was at the end, A Stark in all but name and it's really the only logic I can give to Season 8 Bran's actions.

Tfranco: With Mel from early on she was really on Baelon's side, so it only made sense that she'd try to help even in death. So glad you liked Bran's ending and the NK fight, we hoped they'd be impactful and the idea of Olenna being around for much longer is one that really excites me.

Tytos: Dany, Rickon, and Sansa are probably the biggest losses that Jon could take, he barely survives the ones he has lost, and to lose one of them would probably kill him. Jaime got his redemptions, in the future he'll be known as the Kingsaver and go down along with Aemon the Dragonknight as what a true knight of the KG really is, that's everything he'd have ever wished for.

Sibeal: I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Irish Hermit: Yeah with Davos we felt that it would make sense that Mel would give him a chance at another life and it almost makes their shared history a much more intriguing one. As for Bran, he no longer is considered kin and he'll eventually waste away into oblivion.

Dunk: We sort of christened the Bran/Rickon fight as Starkbowl in our heads and always wanted it to be a warg battle, to have the two claimants for the TER actually duke it out, in their minds. Having Bran broken, and reduced to Hodor just seemed a far more fitting punishment than death did too. Olenna has Desmera and her grandsons (Hobber/Horas) as well as her daughter, Janna who is with child, we just went with the other side of her family being alive as well as the Hightowers yes. Giving her Mel's ruby seemed like something that this Mel would do since she served Baelon faithfully. As for Tyrion, it's coming.

Wrysenseofhumour: Thanks for saying so, it does feel so much more fun to be well than not. It is this lack of care with the lore and also a lot of these writers think they're either too good for or better than the work they're doing. Henry Cavill said that regarding the writers of the Witcher and it's clear to see in the show itself. They also have no idea how to write a decent character which is why all new characters shit on legacy characters. The new Iron woman is so much smarter than Tony Stark, why, well because we said so.

Then they wonder why core fans get pissed and don't accept their brilliance and get butt hurt and resort to it being either a race or sex thing that is stopping their genius from being applauded how it should. Not that they just screwed the lore, created terrible characters, and wrote something piss poor. It's the same with almost all franchises now, the studios hire people who were never fans and so they have no care for the product. Fanfiction even when it's bashing, still shows care for the characters. Yes, some fics put their faves far more over, but most times they stay truer to the base characteristics. My own philosophy is very simple, if you're changing a character's actions, then it has to at least make sense within the context of the story. Jon can be a happier soul, but you have to give him a reason why that is so. Cat can be worse or better than canon, but you again have to explain why that is. X should lead to Y and to Z and the steps to get there should make sense, even if they're not steps that someone personally agrees with or enjoys. That's the problem with all these shows, so much of them just make no damn sense.

There's an old adage that a character can only be as smart as the person writing them and while that's true. Most people writing characters have some inherent bias, but with fics, that bias is still mainly lore related. We know what can't be done because we know the lore, something that these other writers don't.

You're spot on with Elrond and Galadriel. Of course, they don't need to be the same characters they are later, but the genesis of those characters should be seen. It's very much not. Galadriel behaves like a teenager which is bad enough, when you then give her completely different reasoning behind her actions, she becomes a different character altogether. Elrond suffers slightly differently in that he's made weak to make Galadriel look strong. We see this more and more and even in GOT at the end, the idiots resorted to this. Sansa is made to be perfect while Dany is diminished and Jon is turned into a moron.

Obi wan's reasoning too is suspect. He literally has one job, his leaving the planet for any reason is just dumb and is a case of we need this for the plot, let's not worry about logic. That it then fucks up the lore and makes little sense of future actions, well that's even more egregious. As for his lack of skills and then them suddenly returning, again, the plot needs what to happen lol. It's just terrible writing all the way. But we're not supposed to look at the writing, plot, and characterization, instead, we're supposed to enjoy the member berries and just move on to the next piece of spoiled lore garbage they'll churn out. Indy this time getting the treatment.

As I said with Sansa, I've no problem with her becoming somewhat of a villain or even with her screwing Jon over so she gets what she wants. As long as it's portrayed in that light. The show, like so many other shows, doesn't want to portray certain characters as villains. In Sansa's case, they tried to portray her as perfect in every way by the end. The smartest, most politically astute, always right, yadda, yadda, yadda. They gave her knowledge she never earned or learned and had everyone around her act OOC in order for her to not get called out on her BS. Again, I've no issue with her using LF's teachings to get what she wants, because at least she's learned and earned that knowledge. As for Bran, my big problem with him is that GRRM pretty much said he's to be king at the end, for me that makes no damn sense and the only way it works logically is if he's a villain. I mean, he's supposedly not a villain in Season 8, and yet do any of us accept he has any right to sit on the Iron Throne? No, we don't.

I do accept that with GRRM's characterization, it's why I write using so many of them and why I feel that even with the defined roles he gave them, there is still so much room to play with their arcs. Be it in changing Jon's fate from early on or pushing a character this way or that with a little nudge. We do love the characters, even those we hate.

That was entirely our intention with Bran, to in the end have him fit the almost classic villain role. Hidden intent, acting as an ally, using ties to stop characters from ruining his plans too early, eventually the big reveal and final battle. Our own twist on it was to use the magic of ASOIAF to play its part and so to have this mind battle so to speak while ending it with him suffering a fate he'd inflicted on others. With Jaime, it was simply redemption yes. In some ways I can sort of see it being his end arc in the books too, saving Jon or Daenerys and somewhat redeeming himself. Maybe saving Bran, but in the end, going out a hero of sorts.

I've had the treason argument with people in regard to Jaime and my take on it is simple. It's only treason if Robert, Renly, or Stannis end up judging him. I can't see a Targ judging him for it for a couple of reasons, one being the incest aspect and the second being, they wouldn't care lol. But you're spot on, it is by definition High Treason. I do think he fits the redeemed knight trope perfectly, but maybe GRRM will surprise us. Most think he's simply going to kill Cersei and maybe take his own life as his end, which sort of works too. Especially if Cersei actually uses Wildfire. (another thing that they just hand waved away in regards to Jaime in the show).

It's funny you mentioned a Davos pov as our thoughts were the same as yours, hope this sufficed.

Celexys: So glad you liked it, with Bran it was something we planned right from the start so it means a lot you enjoyed it. The Mel/Davos thing just seemed to add so much to their relationship and so we couldn't resist it. We're almost at the end now, another chapter and a big epilogue should do it.
Fluppy Ghost: Thanks so much.

Orthankg: Really glad you liked it.

Supremus: I completely disagree about Galadriel. Not only by this point in her history would she be a much different character and her motivations are completely different, but she behaves like a teenager and her arc makes little sense IMO. When you look at her character in LOTR, her being this way just doesn't fit, and worse, as I said her actions don't line up. The whole aspect of her and Sauron is just dumb, but you're free to feel differently and we won't fall out over having opposite views.

Bran may very well not turn on Jon, my take on it is that for Bran to end up on the Iron Throne he almost needs to be a villain of sorts. As for Sansa, I can see her doing it, to take what she feels she is owed, and partly because of LF's lessons. Does that mean it'll happen, of course not and you may turn out far more right on this than me. That's the beauty of it not being done yet, we have no idea where things will go. I would have said that all the Starks would come together and work toward the same goal, that was what I'd always thought we were leading up to. But while the show screws things up in many ways, the endings of the characters may very well be the ones we're getting. Sansa as QITN, Bran as KITS, Jon Beyond the Wall, and Dany getting screwed over by one or all of them. I no longer see the Starks as the heroes of the tale I once did, however. Especially those who were left alive.

I like fix-it fiction for the same reason, and I've tried to write some fics that reflect that, but you can't give everyone a happy ending all the time and sometimes you need to be more realistic. What I will say is this, me, my co-writer, we agonize over every single death or so-called bad ending and only do so with a reason in mind. It's not for shock value or even to get rid of characters either of us dislikes, but always for the plot to work and for the themes, we're aiming for to come across.

I hate the RW too, and I did hear that about it being added. The funny thing is that without it, where could he have gone? As for Theon, again we'll agree to disagree. I think there are enough clues there within the early chapters to see it coming, but I know you like the character and thus far I've not done him justice to your mind, I do promise I will in the future have a version that's more palatable to your tastes.

Biohazard: So glad you liked it.

JLDR: Thanks so much.

Keb: We felt it was better than death for him.

Tata Fox: Out of all the things Bran did, what he did to Hodor was awful, we're told he feels the terror in Hodor's mind, so it felt right he'd feel some terror of his own.

Reviewer:

With Bran, we went for the classic villain arc, where their intentions early on get painted in a new light later once you're shown the full context of them. Part of this is because the show setting of him doesn't really offer him as a good guy as you say, not at the end. Early on maybe, however, again this is where context comes in. Like any good villain, the early events are portrayed in one light, only to be shown more truly later. We sort of went a little Verbal Kint/Keyser Soze with Bran.

In the show, he sends Rickon to the Umbers (the books he does not) the Umbers then betray him, which lends itself to the plot that he sends him there for that very reason. That he knows and is doing it purposefully. Again, a classic villainous act, to make a thing look one way when it's really another. Yes, you can argue Hodor was an accident, the first time, he did it far more than once and forced him to kill someone. Yes again you can argue he does it to save them, but it could also be argued he did it to save himself, further making him a villain.

Arya can die, it's our story and our plotline. What GRRM would/will do matters not, only our reasoning for it and here it plays a significant plot reason and we know why we did it. GRRM supposedly has the five main characters, Jon, Dany, Arya, Bran, and Tyrion, so you could argue all are his faves, do we really think all make it through and survive? So if Dany can die, why can't Arya? It actually makes sense she may since she's now a servant of the God of Death. Again though, you're mixing up what GRRM may or may do with what we can or cannot, and well, we can kill anyone we like.

So with Jon learning about his heritage, not sure how much you know about the lore but to call the Ghost of High Heart Deus ex Machina is a bit rich. She is literally the one who gave the PTWP prophecy in the first place. Her Greenseeing powers are well established in the books and so having her be the one to tell Jon makes a lot of sense. Arya's meeting with her in the books is just as dramatic as the one I had with Jon, the only difference here was we made it a little showier.

After Ygritte, Jon almost has lust at first sight with Val in the books, so it makes sense that with Dany he'd feel the same. You also have him willing to think of being with someone, which changes things. Robb Stark falls immediately in love with Jeyne Westerling, so I don't know what more you wished from the relationship. It played out over time, days, weeks, moons until they expressed how they felt, it may not have felt that way, but reread it and you'll see it does. As for Brienne/Tormund happening off-screen, yes, for the surprise aspect of it. It made sense to us that they'd have a secret relationship at first. Arya/Gendry is rushed yes, partly because I bloody can't stand it, nor Gendry. Partly because Arya wouldn't go for it until it reached a certain point, we went with the show version of it for that reason.

In regards to the visions, other than Benjen, all the characters we use are characters who have shown either a full sight of them using the power, Mel, Bran, or glimpses of it, Dany, Jon, Rickon. Yes, it wouldn't work that easily, but the point of things is that we're reaching the endgame and the gods are more invested. With Mel the intent was clear, we thought. Before now she'd been serving the wrong man, Stannis and so her visions were all over the place, here she served the right one, Jon, and so R'hllor gifted her with clarity. The same with the use of King's Blood, all king's blood is powerful, and the blood of the PTWP is more so, which allows for more.

Jon's growth is in his acceptance of the role he's to play. Other than that he can't really grow into more than that given the time frame and the events that are taking place. He's in the middle of a war, more than one, and his family is in danger, so those things will always be the most apparent. Yet, his growth was in not being confined to think he was lesser, there is no time for true soul searching, and events dictate and force him to move with them.

Rickon being a butcher was to show the Lords of the North he was more of the North than came before him. Rickon is more savage at heart and because of his suffering more willing to be so. We intended to have him be a throwback to the lords of old, a servant of the Old gods which he is. So at times, his butchery is clear, it has to be. Old lords made sacrifices to the Weirwoods, if he's closer to the Old Gods and the truer Northern Lords, this should be the case. It's far different to go full bloody with an execution than to do what the Boltons did also.

With the Sand Snakes, the show's ending leaves so much to be desired. The fact that they're forgotten about, Tyene and Ellaria was terrible writing. As for how it's so easy to take KL and why it should be. Jon is a planner, bookjon anyway. It was easy because Cersei fell into the trap of thinking of him like Ned and so his actions were impossible to predict. Jon's reasoning for his actions is made out clearly in his worry for Rickon. Yes, we could have killed Olenna or others, but if you can accept that the Red Wedding can go off without a hitch, simply because one side planned it out and the other was unaware, then so too could the attack on KL.

We did it during a parley, something never done. Exactly the same reason that the Red Wedding can happen, because no one breaks guest right. Jaime didn't get to walk around freely, he briefly mentions it in his pov, how it's because of Brienne that he doesn't face more than harsh looks. Jaime also once he's been accepted by the king can't be touched because he would be under Guest Right from then on. Why does Jon accept him, because he needs men in the fight to come and yes it may be somewhat easy, but exactly what has Jon got against Jaime? This Jon I mean? that he attacked Ned Stark? Well, Jon here has his own issues with Ned, does he not?

Not sure what you mean in regard to Cersei/Euron. We went with hubris to be their downfall. That after being beaten they try something to get back only to find themselves outmatched. So please explain further. If you wanted their deaths to come at the hands of those in Westeros, I somewhat understand, but we felt their deaths worked out better this way, they no longer mattered.

Jon is always unnaturally perfect in my writings lol. Some of it I know is because of my reaction to the terrible version we got at the end of the show, some of it is because I try to see Jon as the PTWP, and so what does that exactly mean? Olenna figuring out who Jon is, I'm sorry I don't agree. There is a reason why Ned Stark doesn't want Jon anywhere near the South, a reason why other than Jaime who barely looks at Jon, no one who knows Rhaegar went North with Robert when they went to WF. Hell the Lord Commander of the KG, Barristan Selmy, doesn't travel with the entire Royal Family, for some reason. Wonder why that is?

Olenna/Varys even Tywin and Jon Arryn not seeing through Ned Starks's BS lie are far more of a Deus Machina than one of them eventually doing so. Olenna never gave Jon any thought whatsoever. Here she has a reason to, which then leads to her digging deeper. If you don't think she would do so, then you clearly don't understand her character. So once she starts to dig, she pays more and more attention and sees things that make her dig even deeper. Literally, she is the epitome of all Ned Stark feared in regard to Jon.

I never bought Jon being bothered about Dany being his aunt, I'm sorry but it's there in Stark history, they live in the North where it's happened before. The show may have made it out as a big thing, but that's only because they didn't look into the lore IMO. As for Dany not being bothered about his claim, again, why should she be? At the point that they find out, there is clearly something going on between them. Things are being presented to her in a certain way. The show again forced an issue that really should never have been one. They had two emotionally compromised people try to deal with issues and neither of them dealt with them rationally, while around them, their advisers were conspicuous by their absence. Here, Olenna, and Varys present things to Dany in a non-emotional way, making a suggestion that let's face it, Tyrion had already made before and then was ignored for the rest of the show.

The show wished to place obstacles between Dany/Jon and so did so, and in order to do so they completely ignored so much of what the situation was. Here, we did not and so the obstacles are able to be maneuvered around easily before they become sticks to beat them with.

Tyrion I went with the next step from LAAWDAD, the follow-up he wasn't allowed. However, all I copied and pasted was how events would make him behave. Tyrion is petty, and jealous, and would not take kindly to Jon being the one who shows him up. Nor to being replaced as the key adviser and that's no different here than it was in LAAWDAD. That's mainly due to the timing of his arrival and the events that are somewhat set in stone, his attack plans, and their failure. Had Tyrion in the show been called out as he should have been, removed as he should have been, then I believe this is somewhat how Tyrion would act, so to have him go another route would require different actions to take place. The setting doesn't allow that. For that to occur we'd have needed to have Jon arrive in Meereen. But even after that, I wanted to delve into certain aspects I didn't get to with him in LAAWDAD, most especially just what he could or would do if he actually got the chance. So that's not copying and pasting, it's following through a road not taken.

Ned's actions would always be looked at through the light of how certain people see them, yes the North may have loved him, but the North only saw one side of him. My stories show what happens when the other side comes out or his questionable actions are well, questioned. Rickon of course loves his father and mother, but he also blames them for the things that happened to him because, in essence, they abandoned him. Jon feels certain things based on his learning of the truth which he can't resolve because Ned isn't around. Other characters who've had different dealing with Ned aren't going to see him in the same light as those who had nicer dealings with him. Then when those things are brought out into the light, questions would be asked. That's not because of my own feelings for the character other than in using a character to express some of those feelings. It's because logically some characters would actually express those feelings and once they did, then how is Ned looked upon?

With the KL explosion, we tried something literary-wise, to show the aftermath and people not trying to deal with it, hint at events and then later show the events, it may not have worked, but we felt it was a better way of framing things than showing them happen chronologically. I don't love Mel, Dany yes, Jaime not so much, though I like playing with his redemption. If you've read my other fics you'll see Mel portrayed as both a good or bad character a villainess or a heroine, here at this point in the story it felt better to portray her this way. As for Dany, this story is literally an FU to the events of the last couple of seasons of the show, of course, she's going to get some love.

All writers how biases towards characters they love, be they blatant or subtle. Jon is my fave character, he's always going to get far more love from me than anyone else. He's always going to be my protagonist and so he'll rarely change too much other than in the circumstances of his life. Others I play around with more, I've written a good Ned, a bad Jaime, a decent Cersei, and a more than decent Tywin. I've had Tyrion side by side with Jon and against him, Sansa as his favorite and most beloved sister and his worst enemy, or even here, somewhere in between. I change characters regularly, but at all times I try to show a character in the light that suit's the story best and one that makes sense within the confines of that story. One that follows the logical path the story sets forth.

I welcome your criticism and your praise equally as I know does my co-writer. We don't agree with all of it and feel you misinterpret some things or miss our intent with them. And you do have some of your own biases too, especially with Arya lol. But I thank you for your well-thought-out review and hope this answered it in the same manner.