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

29. To Right the Realm

Winterfell 304 AC.

Sansa Stark.

'Be careful what you wish for' was the saying that came into her head every time she would open her eyes each morning. For so long she had wished to be the one in charge To be the Lady of Winterfell or even the Queen of the North, all to make sure she and her family would never have to suffer ever again. Now that she was finally placed in that position, she wished she was not.

Sansa had come to realize that she would trade all of it without hesitation for just another day with her siblings. She reluctantly got out of bed, as Nymeria's warmth surrounding her was the only thing that soothed her troubled heart ever since her brothers' departure. To say that she missed both of them and would have wanted them to stay longer would be an understatement. Yet, Sansa had understood why they wouldn't and couldn't stay longer, and she would not blame them for leaving. The memory of their sister's loss was still painstakingly present in all of them and Sansa would struggle everywhere she went. No matter whether that might be the Great Hall or the sparring yard, everything and every place reminded her of Arya.

She might have traveled with them if it weren't for the fact that they were counting on her to hold the North in Baelon's name. Sansa believed that to escape the ghosts of Winterfell, she would have left it once more.

The keep felt so much bigger since the departure of the armies of the South. Sansa almost missed the animated atmosphere, as the silence brought her back to things she didn't want to think about. So she had made herself useful by learning how to cook simple meals for the smallfolk who had stayed to help rebuild part of the keep Just, seeing their smiles and the gratitude on their faces had made her feel accomplished in some small way. That and the boons that were given to the North by the Old Gods since the defeat of the Night King.

Sansa couldn't comprehend everything that had happened, even though Rickon and her Uncle Benjen had tried to explain things to her regarding them. It was all related to some curse placed on their family, a curse now lifted. She'd been told that the return of animals not seen this far south since the creation of the Wall had made it clear that while winter may not be over, things were starting to and would only get better.

"It may take some time, but the arrival of long-forgotten creatures proves one thing, Sansa child." Old Nan stated when Sansa confided in her after the sighting of a unicorn in the Wolfswood.

"What thing?"

"That the curse of the Bloody Blade has ended with the Children, and the taint of the Stark blood has been given to the last Raven."

"But I thought Rickon was the Raven now?" Sansa asked, worried about her brother.

"Oh, no, sweet child. Rickon is a servant of the Old Gods, but he is a Wolf, not a Raven. His powers are meant to protect his people, as a leader protects his pack."

"I don't understand."

"There is no need for a Raven of old as its purpose ended with the end of the Children. The age of Ice has ended, and ravens were a safeguard, a means to keep faith in humanity and the pact between the First Men and the Children. This is a new era, with its own perils and difficulties. While the Old Gods are still relevant in this one. More than ever with a King who believes in them. As long as their magic is not used for nefarious purposes, then there will be no need for someone to prove to them that Men are capable of anything other than using them and waging war."

It was still an abstract concept for Sansa, but the fact that Rickon wouldn't have to be bound to the weirwood as the former ravens were, relieved her greatly. For all her brother had done to help them and all he had suffered, it would do her heart no good to think of him sacrificing his life and wasting it away to prove a point to some gods. She didn't need to fear him becoming another Bran, and so this relieved her even more.

Sansa could hear Bran cry a lot, and she hoped he would wallow in his tears for the rest of his life. She couldn't find it in herself to sympathize with him. Not after what he'd knowingly done to their family. Only one person even bothered to visit him and that was the Maester. Even then Wolkan only did so to bring him food that was left untouched most of the time or sleeping draughts for when Bran was too agitated. Something which had happened less and less as the days went by. The former Raven had apparently lost his will to fight the moment Sansa's brother left Winterfell. Not that he had any chance to win anything in his state, but she believed Rickon when the latter said that Bran would want anyone around him miserable if he could not get what he'd thought he deserved. This and Rickon's constant guilt regarding Arya's fate were the reason she didn't put up a fight when he announced he was leaving.

"I know you must hate me now, sister. That you may think I am abandoning you." Rickon said and she shook her head.

"I knew it was bound to happen. You've always been closer to Jon, after all. I just didn't think you would leave so soon." and that Arya wouldn't be there with us, she wanted to add, but refrained from doing so.

"I am coming back, Sansa. I swear to you, I will come back. I have to do this, but I will not leave you alone. Nymeria will stay with you. And I will come back as soon as I can."

"I trust you," she said truthfully, though she couldn't help but feel the lump in her throat grow. "Please be careful, and take good care of our brother while you're with him."

"I will. You have my word."

She made her way to the Great Hall, where the remnants of the Lords of the North who hadn't left already were breaking their fast. Lyanna Mormont and Talia Forrester seemed to be having a heated argument, while Wyman Manderly and Barbrey Dustin looked on and at them with concern.

"Lady Sansa, you've come along at the right time!" the Lord of White Harbor said, making her frown.

"Is something the matter?" she asked, feeling she would not be able to have her meal anytime soon.

"Lady Talia here has received a proposal from Alester Oakheart, of the Reach before he then departed with the rest of the army," Manderly responded, to Sansa's surprise.

"Oh… Well, does it please you, my Lady?" she asked, turning to face the lady in question.

"I…"

"She cannot marry that man. She is her brother's heir." Lyanna Mormont said bluntly.

"Mayhaps we should not talk so openly about it before the Lady Talia figures out what it is that she wishes for?" Sansa suggested, sensing Talia's discomfort.

"What is there to figure out? The Forresters have been given the lands and keep of Last Hearth and she cannot leave the North to become someone's wife."

"What if I want to leave?" Talia retorted shyly, looking everywhere but toward her friend. "Rodrik is getting better, and he has Elaena. They soon will have a family of their own and they won't need me as an heir when they have children. Ser Alester knew my sister Mira, and I remember her saying he was kind and -"

"That doesn't make him more worthy of you. You're of the North, Talia." Lyanna said, her scowl enough to even make Sansa wither a little.

"I know. I am. But… After everything that happened, I don't know if I can bear to stay here. There are too many painful memories -"

"That's why you were given Last Hearth and why Ironrath has been given to your half-brother." Lyanna pointed out and Sansa nodded, knowing how difficult the last few years had been for the Forresters.

They had been staunchest supporters of House Stark and had paid dearly for their unwavering loyalty when Roose Bolton became Warden of the North. Ramsay's cruelty had known no bounds when it came to punishing the Forrester, and Talia had lost her twin, her mother, and her eldest brother because of Sansa's dead husband. Her two remaining brothers were still recovering, physically and mentally, from the abuse they had suffered before the Starks had retaken Winterfell. That she discovered she had more family in Josera and Elsera Snow didn't make things much better for Talia, as she soon lost her half-sister before she could bond properly and Josera was still coming to terms with him being the new Lord of Ironrath and what it entailed. The man had since been spending more time with Rodrik than with his younger siblings.

Sansa understood completely the point Talia was trying to make, as she too would want to leave all the pain behind if she had the choice to do so.

"'Tis an opportunity to start anew. I would however suggest that you don't rush your answer before you know more about the man." she declared, smiling at the young girl as Lyanna stared at her in disbelief.

"I… Thank you for the advice, Lady Sansa." Talia said gratefully.

"Please know too that should you decide to accept his proposal, you will always be welcome North, be it with your brother or here at Winterfell by my House and me. You will always have a place here, for you are of the North, and we protect our own." Sansa added truthfully.

"It means a lot that you would say so, my Lady," Talia said, looking very emotional, while Lyanna Mormont seemed ready to explode.

"Lady Mormont, a word in private?" she asked as firmly as she could, not leaving room for the younger girl to argue.

The walk outside the Great Hall felt heavy, as Sansa could sense all the anger and rage radiating from Lyanna. It reminded her of Rickon when she struggled to understand his hurt at her actions. Now that she knew better, and understood that anger was a mechanism used by most of the northern people she knew to hide the raw pain they felt, Sansa hoped she would be able to help the lady with her own issues regarding the potential match.

"May I be blunt with you, my Lady?" she said as they stopped in front of a straw dummy.

"Aye. Get straight to the point." Lyanna said, glaring at her.

"Whatever you feel right now, you need to stop. Else you will push your friends away."

"What friends? All the people I care about are either dead or running away." Lyanna sighed.

"Being angry at them will solve nothing, Lyanna. If they decide to leave, they will do so with or without your consent."

"So I should keep quiet. That's what you're saying?"

"Lady Talia is your friend. I know it is hard to see the people you love leave you behind, but sometimes it is necessary."

"Is that what you tell yourself at night to get better? Because I tried and it doesn't work." Lyanna spat and Sansa felt her heart break for the young girl.

"I miss him too, you know?" she said, sighing sadly as she saw Lyanna ball her fists. "It's only been days and I feel as if it's been years already. But he would have been going mad had he stayed here."

"I know. Doesn't make it less hurtful, though." Lyanna mumbled, making Sansa smile as she thought about how alike her brother the Lady of Bear Island was.

"We will see him again. As will we Lady Talia should she decide to leave."

"How can you be so sure? What if they never come back? What if they feel better where they are and they forget completely about us?" Lyanna said, her voice growing higher in pitch as she spoke.

"Then we go to them, beat them bloody, and curse them before then resuming living our lives," Sansa said and chuckled at the dumbfounded look she received from Lyanna. "But I doubt it would happen. They need time away to heal, we all need time to do so, but as we will never forget what we've been through, we both know nor will they either. Thus they can never forget the bond they and they forged during such hard times."

"You have changed, truly." Lyanna declared, startling Sansa.

"In a good way, I hope."

"If we didn't think so, you wouldn't be Warden of the North right now. I see now that it's a decision we won't have to regret, because you care truly for the people, not like before. I thank you for trying to reassure me."

"Did it work, at least?" Sansa asked, trying to shake off the overwhelming emotions Lyanna's words gave her.

"Ha! You wish. It was a nice try though. More luck next time!" Lyanna smirked before taking a mace in her hand and moving to the straw dummy, signaling the end of their conversation.

Sansa couldn't help but smile at this. They were so much alike, Lyanna and Rickon, that she didn't doubt one second that her brother would be back. If not for Sansa, then for the strong bond he shared with his friend. That they didn't realize the extent of this bond was one thing that showed that they were young still, for which Sansa was grateful. Not that she would mind them courting each other, but she wasn't ready to lose yet another brother because of marriage.

Daenerys and Sansa had managed to get along before the war, and the Lady of Winterfell knew that the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms really cared about Baelon. Yet the thousands of miles between them and the affairs of the realm would make it harder for Sansa or them to visit.

"Should you need me to come, you only have to send a raven, Goodsister. Drogon and I will come and get you so you can see your brothers." Daenerys had said, which had touched Sansa greatly as much as it had broken her heart.

"He won't come back, will he?" Sansa deduced sadly.

"Not for the now, he won't. Losing Arya almost destroyed him, as it did to us, but to Baelon…"

"I know, he has always been the closest to her, and now for him, Winterfell will always be associated with her death. And Bran. I understand. I just wish I could help him more than by letting him go. I feel like I'm losing more and more family rather than gaining any." she admitted to her goodsister.

"We will figure things out. But I swear on the Old Gods and the New that we will see each other as much as we can. I'll bring you to him if you miss him too much. Just say the word and I'll be there."

"Thank you, Dany. It means a lot."

"Anything for my pack." the Queen said, making Sansa tear up as much as any time she had felt included in their family.

Sansa turned and was about to go back to the Great Hall when she saw the Maester rushing to get to her. His alarmed expression forced her heart to beat faster and her thoughts quickly turned toward her brothers.

"What is wrong, Wolkan?" she asked, her voice belying the true worry she felt.

"We received word from King's Landing, my lady. From the Lady Olenna. The way the message was sealed shows it to be a most important one." he said as Sansa grabbed the scroll and hurriedly broke the seal to open it.

"By the Gods…" she whispered, too shocked to say anything else for a long time. "We need to bring this to the King's attention and with much haste."

"Is something the matter?" Lyanna asked, alerted by her stance and ragged breathing.

"I can't believe it. He would not stoop this low."

"Who wouldn't, Little Wolf?" the Hound was quicked to ask, frowning as she gave him the missive. "That little fuck… Come to think of it, it doesn't surprise me. After all, he made it clear during his trial for Joffrey's murder that he regretted saving the city."

"My brother was in King's Landing. He could have been killed during the explosion." Sansa said, feeling her anger rise at the thought of Baelon being hurt. Not only would they have stood no chance in defeating the Night King in the war for the Dawn, but the idea of losing another family member was just too much for her to even contemplate.

"And then the Fucking Lannister rode straight to Winterfell to offer his services to the Queen after his little stunt. Are you sure he is not in league with his sister?" Lyanna wondered.

"I do not know, but we need to warn Baelon as soon as we can. If Olenna Tyrell sent this raven instead of waiting for them to arrive, then she must be worried about his next moves."

"They're probably at the Neck right now. We won't be able to catch up with them, and to send a raven there is nigh on impossible." Maester Wolkan said.

"If only Rickon had recovered his powers, I could have tried asking Nymeria to relay the message, but -" Sansa frowned as the direwolf chose this moment to push her. "What is it? Can you do it?"

Nymeria shook her head but then seemed to point at another wolf.

"I think she wants to send one of her pack to join Rickon. Is that it, girl?" Lyanna said and the she-wolf nodded.

"It will be quicker than with a rider," Sandor added, as the young wolf sat in front of Sansa, waiting eagerly for her orders.

"Will he know where to go?" she asked, turning to Nymeria who nodded again. "Rickon said he couldn't feel his powers, how can we be sure it will work?"

"Trust in the Gods," Lyanna said. "I'm not particularly fond of them lately, but they favor Rickon and Baelon. They will make sure the message is delivered."

"You can still send another one by raven to Moat Calin or the Twins to ease your mind." the Maester suggested.

Another glance at Nymeria and the young wolf made Sansa's resolve strengthen.

"Very well. Maester, please seal the message once again and give it to our friend here. I trust you to find Rickon and Baelon and deliver it to them." She said, watching with something akin to amazement as the wolf followed Wolkan, who seemed unfazed by its presence so close to him.

She guessed he had grown accustomed to Ghost and Nymeria, so a younger direwolf would feel less of a threat to him. Nonetheless, she still thought she wasn't thinking straight by giving a mission of that importance to an animal. Looking at the pack leader as she proudly stood watching him leave once he'd been readied made her realize that she had come a long way. Moons ago she wouldn't have believed anything that had been born out of the legends of the North. Sansa wouldn't even pray to the Old Gods, as she believed in the gods of her mother far more than the stories of Old Nan.

But Old Nan was still there, still protecting her family, and the legends of Bran the Builder were anything but tales.

"The Old Gods sent me to protect a child per his mother's wishes. She had prayed for them to take pity on the babe since his father had died during a petty war and she had no strength left to live and care for him. I just had a few cubs and was nursing them, so they brought me where the babe was. I found him hidden in a cave under the heart tree in what became Winterfell's Godswood. As soon as I saw him, I felt an unbreakable bond between him and me, and when he latched on to my teat, I felt his power surge through me. I became something else thanks to the magic of his blood. but the bond between us and my love for him made me watch over him as if he was mine own and made me what I am today. Not quite a direwolf, not quite a woman, but a protector of his line."

"You said your time was coming to an end. Our family still needs protection."

"I know, child. You may not believe the Old Gods favor your family, given the tragedies that have happened these last years, starting with your familiar's death." Old Nan smiled sadly as Sansa gasped, thinking about Lady's demise. "The gods give boons to their heartfelt followers and take them back when they feel them unworthy."

"So they took Lady from me because I was not worthy of her?" Sansa asked.

"It was your actions, the fact that you did not stand with your family when your sister needed you the most. That was what made the Old Gods take their gift back. Had you had more faith in them, then they would have found a way to save her like they did Nymeria."

Sansa's heart broke hearing this, knowing that she had alienated herself from her family from such a young age, far preferring to further her ambitions instead of supporting her sister. Now she would give anything to go back to this time and do things another way.

"I know what you think, but you have another chance at proving your worth, sweetling. Nymeria accepts you as part of her pack, just as Ghost, Baelon, and Rickon all have. Embrace your true self and show them that the Red Wolf deserves her name. Do so and you will once again win the Gods' favors."

For days Sansa has wondered what she could do to prove herself. Besides ruling her lands as a true Lady of the North, she had no idea of what more to do. Until this very moment.

She hadn't set foot in the Godswood ever since Baelon's departure. Images of Arya's lifeless body on the ground disturbed her every time she went there and she couldn't bring herself to go to the heart tree alone until now.

"I am sorry for being angry at you for taking my sister away. I know there were other forces, other persons against us in this fight and I redirected my anger towards you because you gave the thing that was my brother the power to destroy our family. I realize now that it was not your fault, and that I could not blame the gods for actions committed by men. Except for those who targeted Arya." She added, feeling her bitterness and anger boil inside of her. "I miss her so much. I miss not having a chance to tell her how much I love and miss her. Rickon said that she is in the trees now as are our Father and Robb. So, Arya, if you hear me, I wish we had more time together. Please watch over Rickon and Jon. Please make them safe. I cannot bear the thought of losing one of them. I… I hope you'll watch over me too. I hope I will make you and our family proud. Gods, I feel so stupid right now… I… I'm so lost without all of you… I'm lost without my Pack."

A gentle breeze caressed her face and her emotions crumbled, leaving her unable to hold back her tears. Voicing her true thoughts aloud was something she disliked greatly, but she felt compelled to do so in front of the Heart Tree.

As she was about to stand up, she noticed Nymeria approaching the tree and smiled as her companion licked one of its bloody tears.

That is right. I am not alone.

Nymeria's yelp caught her off guard, as did her reaction afterward, but nothing perplexed Sansa much more than when she got tackled to the ground and restlessly attacked by licks all over her face.

"What is it, girl? What is going on?" Sansa chuckled.

You are the Stark of Winterfell. The future of your House. You will never be alone, Red Wolf…she thought she heard whispered in her ear whilst the red sap fell from the carved face.

The Neck 304 AC.

Rickon Stark.

Leaving Sansa and the North behind had been hard for him, so hard that he'd tried his best to use his powers to catch a glimpse of them every chance he got, only to end up more frustrated day after day. He could feel them, feel the force bubbling inside of him, but for a reason he didn't understand, he could not focus on warging nor traveling through time.

Rickon had been sure that he was doing the right thing by leaving with Jon, especially since he could no longer hear Bran torturing him in his head. Yet as he watched his brother and his goodsister moving to the makeshift camp, he wondered if he hadn't been mistaken. Jon seemed to get better as days went by, splitting his time between his duties with Dany and sparring with Rickon.

As for the former king in the North, he clearly was not well.

You're trying too hard. Trust the Gods on this… a voice in his head resembling his most dear friend's chided him, forcing him to shake his head.

"Is everything well, my Lord?" Missandei asked concernedly.

"Just tired, is all." he lied, making her frown. "I am well, Missandei. I swear."

"Begging your Pardon, my Lord, but you're a terrible liar." she scoffed and he chuckled at that.

"How do you find the Neck so far?" Rickon asked, changing the subject slightly.

"It is… Humid, to say the least. Completely different from Essos and what I've seen of Westeros so far."

"You don't have marshes in Essos?"

"I haven't visited all of Essos, but there was mostly sand and deserts where we lived. The Dothraki live in the Great Grass Sea, but I've never seen it with my eyes. Here it feels… Eerie."

"It takes some time to get used to it." Meera Reed intervened reassuringly.

"I remember the first time I got here. We were running away from Moat Cailin," he said, smiling as he thought of them putting Lord Glover on his arse moments before their escape. "I could feel the magic surrounding the place, the danger in the water. Unicorn was not feeling well in here. Look at him now."

"A real horse of the Neck, this one." Meera pointed out, smiling.

They all laughed as the horse trotted around without restraint nor care for his surroundings while the others looked as panicked as Rickon stated.

"I am at a loss, here…" Missandei said. "I thought you hadn't traveled south of Winterfell."

"With my body, I had not. I was warged into Unicorn when I felt Jon was in danger, and I traveled here to meet Lord Reed so he could help me."

"Oh. Forgive me, I forgot -"

"Don't apologize for this. I sometimes can't believe I did it too, especially now." Rickon sighed, feeling his doubts come back.

"You're too hard on yourself, lad." Davos, who had kept silent until then, declared. "You've been through a lot and you need time to heal. Mayhaps more time than any of us regarding what you had to do."

"Aye, I believe you need to regain your strength back," Meera said confidently.

"Is there any way we can be of help?" Missandei asked and he shook his head while giving her a grateful smile.

"I guess I need to be patient, but patience is not something you learn in the North."

"True. Patience is not something I would ever associate with you, lad." Davos chuckled.

"Have you… Prayed lately?" Meera asked almost shyly.

"I… Don't remember the last time I did," he said, shaking his head.

"You're really a horrible liar. But I get it. 'Tis hard to put your trust back to the Old Gods after everything."

Rickon nodded distractedly. His faith in the Old Gods was unaltered and without question, yet Arya's fate, the gods' inability to bring her back despite his pleas, and his lack of control over his powers had made it hard for the boy to talk to them. He knew he couldn't resent them, as he was not the only one who had lost family and loved ones in the war.

It was still hard to come to terms with all the losses they experienced. Tormund and Nessa would not see their people go back to their lands. Nor would Ned Umber grow to be a Lord and bask in his title of Giant Slayer. Brienne and Gendry had got to spend so little time with the people they loved, and Rickon missed them greatly, as he knew Baelon did too.

Annoyance crept into his heart once more as he couldn't even say goodbye to them. He knew that their bravery and their utter faith in the Old Gods had earned them the honor of communing with the Tree. He knew this because he had been able to reach out to his father, brother, and sister so he could defeat Bran once and for all. Rickon had wished for Jon to be able to talk with them through him, to realize that even though their bodies were gone didn't mean they wouldn't watch over them, and to also gift him with the surprise of speaking to Aunt Lyanna. However, as soon as he had tried reaching out again, the voices had remained silent. It was as if all he had lived so far, all that he had witnessed had been a dream, a lie. As if the Old Gods wouldn't grace him with this last request because they had no use for him anymore.

He was supposed to follow the path shown by them and did so to protect his brother. But Bran's words kept poisoning his mind.

The Gods take a lot from you and they give back nothing in return. They are willing for you to get cursed, yet what is your reward? They crippled me so I couldn't leave the cave they wanted me to stay in. They condemned me to a life of servitude and solitude. They will curse you too when they'll be done with you.

Shaking his head, he went to sit near his brother and goodsister who were talking with Howland Reed and Ser Jorah Mormont about Greywater Watch. Rickon had become far less wary of the man who was guarding his family since he had proven he would shield both Dany and Baelon and had the seal of approval from Lyanna. If his dearest friend could trust her cousin again, then so would Rickon.

"We are not too far if you want to visit, but I am sorry to say we will not be able to accommodate everyone on the crannogs." he caught Howland's last words as he plopped on the ground next to Ghost.

"Missandei would love to visit, as do I. Your daughter told us about the Giant Heart Tree that grows there. It must be a sight to see." Dany said, smiling, as Baelon's expression darkened.

Rickon knew what being around a weirwood tree would do to his brother. The only ones he'd seen so far were in Winterfell and behind the wall. Both of them now held sad and tainted memories for his brother, as they did for him if he was being totally honest. Nonetheless, knowing what he did about the spirits in the trees had made Rickon adamant that they should try again to get in contact with them.

"I would like to go, Lord Reed, if you please. To pay my respects to my family and friends," he said, making Baelon turn to him. "I know how mad I sound every time I say it, but I know they're in there."

"You are not mad, Rickon," Howland said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I know thanks to you that my Jojen is there. He was the one who led me to train you. A poor substitute for seeing my son in the flesh it may be for me, but to know that he and others watch over us through the trees does truly warm my heart."

"I'd rather have them with us," Baelon said gruffly, voicing his thoughts clearly for the first time in so long.

"Me too, but we may not hear them nor see them, there's still a way for us to be sure they know what we wish them to," he said, trying to get his brother to see the benefits of such a thing.

"Isn't that why you kept going to the Godswood in the first place?" Dany asked, pressing her hand in her husband's with an encouraging smile.

"Mayhaps it will do you some good to come with us, brother?" Rickon insisted, but Baelon shook his head negatively before standing up and moving to his tent.

"Give him some time, Goodbrother," Dany said, a sad expression on her face as she looked at her husband's retreat. "Shall we go now?"

As they went deeper into the swamps, Rickon watched with a small smile as Dany and Missandei marveled over how the crannogs moved over the water. The flow of questions they had for Lord Reed about the process and maintenance amused him, as they looked more like awestricken girls than battle-hardened women. The Lord of Greywater Watch entertained them graciously and not once did he show any sign of annoyance at their questions. If anything, he looked greatly pleased by them.

"By the Gods! Is that…"

"The Heart Tree, aye, Your Grace. We will soon arrive at its foot." Lord Reed replied.

"But, the roots…"

"Are hidden in the water, as are most of those of the trees in the marshes," Meera said.

"My father told me tales of this weirwood." Ser Jorah said, visibly amazed. "He said it was proof that the Old Gods could do anything, as it stood and grew strong in such an inhospitable place even after the second Breaking."

"I tried to reach its roots once, with a lizard lion's help, but I couldn't. And no, I won't try it again. They don't like to dive that deep." Rickon said, chuckling as he caught his Goodsister's disappointed pout.

The crannog was moored at the Heart Tree's foot and Rickon felt his eyes water as he glanced at the carved face. So many emotions battled inside him that instant. Sadness, grief, anger, guilt… Yet, strangely enough, it was shame he felt more than anything.

It was at this point that he finally began to understand why he couldn't control his powers. Rickon had accepted his role as a servant of the Gods, to save the North and his family and to defeat the Night King. He had sworn an oath and defeated the biggest foe they unknowingly had to face, only to let his grief get over his duty toward his people and overwhelm him completely. He had let his emotions get the best of him, relying only on his instincts when Baelon was involved.

Rickon had abandoned his duty and focused solely on his brother. The fear of the road he'd seen Baelon take in Bran's mind after Arya and his death still gripped Rickon and prevented him from thinking straight. He was fully aware that the Gods wanted him to travel south with him, that he had to stay with him until he was certain that his brother's fate wouldn't lead to his premature death. But his reasons for doing so and protecting Baelon had been purely selfish. He was not using his powers for the greater good, but because he didn't want to lose another member of his family.

This was not the oath he had given the Old Gods and he felt shame that he only remembered this as he was faced with their true representation.

"You do not have to choose between your family or your people, Young Rickon. The fate of both is intertwined. You did the right thing, but you lost yourself in the process." he heard as he knelt in front of the tree with trepidation, soon finding himself surrounded by a soothing breeze.

"How can I find myself and come back? Last time it was Jon… Baelon who helped me find my purpose."

"You are stronger than you believe, Young Wolf. You opened your third eye by yourself."

"Because Jon was in danger."

"Jon may have been the push you needed to get it done, but it was you, little brother, who kept pushing until you reached your potential." Robb's voice rang in his ear and he stifled a sob as he listened to him go on. "You, Rickon Stark, were the one who kept the North and the Free Folk united. You, Rickon Stark, defeated the last Raven. And you will be the one to help hold the Realms of Men united."

"But my powers… You…"

"You are the one restraining yourself. You are trying too much, son." His father's voice cut him off this time. "And you are way too wolf-blooded to listen to what your pack tells you. Listen to them. Trust your instincts. You are on the right path. Let go of your obsession to see Jon safe. You have saved him already. Trust the Gods to have his and your best interests at heart and rely on them should you feel some doubt."

"What of Arya's best interests?" he asked bitterly. "She didn't deserve her fate."

His body reacted to the warmth he felt surrounding him as if Robb and their father were hugging him, and he welcomed the feeling it gave him.

"Aye, she didn't. But she will always be with you. She is watching over Sansa right now and she is proud of you and what you have accomplished so far." Robb said, and while part of Rickon was disappointed not to hear all of it from her, the fact that she was protecting Sansa while he wasn't there to do so brought a small relief to the guilt he felt in regard to his eldest sister.

"You did well to protect the Pack, Son. You felt it expand as your responsibility grew and you created a family on your own. Whatever you do, do not forget that these people depend on you, as their leader. Protect your pack, Trust your instincts. For you are a wolf through and through."

"Thank you, Father, Robb… I will try to keep that in mind…" he whispered and stood up, stopping in his movement when he spotted something in front of him. "Is that… Was that here before I knelt?"

"I don't think it was…" Dany answered, frowning, as she and Howland got closer to the white sapling facing Rickon.

"'Tis a gift for the King and Queen, from the Old Gods, to bless their union and the soil of the place they will call their home, and their children after them," Rickon said, almost as if the Gods were talking through him.

"This is a blessing I humbly accept," Dany said, bowing once again in front of the tree. "My husband is a believer of the Old Gods and I know he will cherish it -"

"When the time is right," Rickon added, still in trance. "Only when the time is right will this sapling be planted. Our servant will know when to do so."

"Rickon? Are you well?" Dany asked worriedly as Rickon felt like himself once more.

"Aye, I… I am," he said, smiling truthfully at his goodsister while watching Howland grab the weirwood sapling.

Rickon felt the pull as soon as they got back on the causeway and separated from the group, following his instinct as his father had bid him to. He could almost feel himself being pushed in a particular direction, signaling that something important was about to happen.

When his eyes found the direwolf's intense gaze, he almost froze in anticipation. It was as black as the night, reminding the boy of Shaggydog. Only its yellow eyes were visible from the place it was hidden, waiting for something, someone, and Rickon quickly realized that it had been sent to meet him.

"Are you one of Nymeria's pack? I don't remember seeing you before…" Rickon said and the wolf tilted his head as if inviting him to get closer. "What are you doing here?"

The wolf huffed and lifted its head, letting Rickon see a shiny collar that he recognized instantly. It was the one the Maester had made for Ghost to carry open messages to him. Walking closer to the messenger, Rickon's breath hitched as he felt his mind being brushed by another. It had been so long since it happened that he almost thought himself crazy. He probably would have if not for the wolf's steely gaze as it looked at him.

Friend. The wolf whispered to Rickon while the latter opened the door to his mind, the vision of Sansa's tired smile tugging at his heart.

"When you see my brothers, tell them I miss them a lot. Tell Rickon I am taking care of Lyanna for him, however difficult she can be sometimes. And tell him to give no quarter to Tyrion once he reads this message."

Whilst Rickon stood shocked as he realized he'd truly warged into the direwolf, his sister's words didn't give him time to appreciate what had just happened. He reached out to the collar and took the message stored into it, frowning as Olenna Tyrell's words unraveled in front of him. He had known that he shouldn't, couldn't trust Tyrion Lannister. The man wanted to stay close to his goodsister, a little too close for Rickon's liking, and he didn't even hide his dislike for Baelon. Yet Bran had confessed his involvement in the Burning of King's Landing. Rickon had seen it in the Raven's mind. So how could Tyrion also be responsible for it?

He was out of his body as soon as the question was out of his lips, frowning once again before realizing where he was.

"You'll take care of me family if I do this?" a young woman said as she dressed, Rickon turning away so he couldn't see her nakedness and glaring at the Imp who lay lazily in a bed.

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"No, my Lion. But it feels wrong to..."

"Your mother and sons are already on their way to Casterly Rock. Your sons will be educated in my household and your mother will never have to work one more day in her life. Isn't it what you wanted? To protect your family?"

"Aye, I do."

"The Dragon Bitch would never do that for you. She doesn't care about the smallfolk as I do. I need you to show this to the good people of King's Landing and your family will be heavily rewarded for your sacrifice. You know why?"

"I… Why?'

"Because a Lannister always pays his debts, and this one has been owed for too long. The so-called White Wolf will breathe no more and the Lion will be brought back to its rightful place." Tyrion said, a raven's laugh echoing not too far away and chilling Rickon's bones.

He saw it then, something he'd thought deep down but hadn't wished to believe. The expression he'd seen on Tyrion's face was one he knew all too well. It was one that still at times haunted his dreams. Try as he might, Rickon feared he'd think back to the day he died and see that expression on the only other face he'd ever known it from. It took all his strength not to see Ramsay Snow instead of Tyrion Lannister and only that he felt his anger build at what Tyrion had wished for, or he'd not have been able to concentrate on the living threat rather than the one his sister had sent to the grave.

Rage took over Rickon's body as the vision ended. The fact that not only Bran but Tyrion too had brought thousands of people to their deaths just so they could get rid of Baelon, who had done them no wrong, pushed him on the verge of exploding. He'd known Tyrion Lannister had to die before, and like Bran, they hadn't acted on it, causing people to suffer needlessly by losing their homes, their families, and their lives. The Demon Monkey wanted his brother dead and had almost killed him. Had Rhaegal not been there, then Baelon would probably not have been able to escape the worst of it. They would have lost him and surely in doing so they'd have lost the war against the dead.

Rickon felt the urge to warg into the Imp's head, as he had done to Bran. He wanted to get rid of him and make him relieve the memory of someone who got their last moments terrorized before the green flames engulfed them, again and again. He wanted him to pay for what he did to those people and most of all what he almost did to his brother.

No.

Rickon's gaze fell once more on the black direwolf who sensed his anger.

You are a wolf. You do not act on your own. Let your pack decide his fate. That is what a leader does. You lead us as wolves do.

Rickon felt his fire lessen as images of what was left of his pack flew to his mind. Talia, Alys, Gilliane, Larence, Sansa, Baelon, Dany, and Lyanna.

"You're going to stay with him, aren't you?" he saw his friend say, her eyes giving away all the sadness she felt as she spoke to the black wolf "I know you're a direwolf and you are fierce, but do me a favor, will ya? Protect him as fiercely as I would."

With all I am.

"So you promised her you would take care of me?" Rickon chuckled fondly as the wolf licked his hand. "Very well. Stay with me and be the bear she wanted you to be."

"What's a bear?" the direwolf asked, visibly confused.

"'Tis you, now. You are Bear."

"I am… Bear?"

"This is your name. My brother's direwolf is named Ghost."

"Ghost. The Quiet Brother. I know him from Leader. She let me in the pack after the War. I lost my family to the cold monsters and she welcomed me. Now she said she feels I have to be with you, so here I am."

"Aye, here you are. Welcome to the Pack, Bear. Now come, we have a Lion to hunt down."

Bear nodded and flanked Rickon, who walked with determination to his brother's tent. He was a wolf, but there were also dragons in his pack, and these ones would be less forgiving. Rickon was again learning to be Ice while Baelon would soon regain his Fire. Woe betides anyone who dared cross either of them when they did so.

King's Landing 304 AC.

Olenna Tyrell.

Doing things in daylight was so much easier than what had felt like eternal darkness they'd known these last few weeks. It allowed for the building work to be carried out without the need for torches and torchbearers meaning that they had more actual workers to build or clear the rubble from the streets. That it had shown just how extensive the damage was, was both a blessing and a curse. As while the true horror of what Tyrion Lannister had done was now shown in the light of day, it too showed just how lucky they had truly been.

They had even found some supplies that had not been destroyed. Some stocks of food that seemed to have suffered more spoilage than fire damage. Though nothing could have prepared her for when they found the treasury. Only the gods themselves could have allowed them to be so fortunate. Not only that it hadn't all been burned away, but how accessible it was, who found it, and that it had not been found in the dark of the night before now. Ordering her own guards to secure it, Olenna soon had it loaded on ships and received the raven from Desmera that it had arrived on Dragonstone and was now secured in the vaults there.

It would allow them to purchase more food and supplies and to do so far more quickly than Olenna had dared to hope. Yet even this boon was not the reason for her good humor today. Nor the reason why she had spent the night in a tent and not in the warm confines of Rosby. The king and queen were near, very near. If reports were true, then they'd arrive at some point during the day and Olenna was most keen to see them hale and hearty for herself. As she knew so too were the people. So after she'd broken her fast, it had been to one of the hills outside the city that had the clearest view of the Kingsroad that Olenna had moved to spend most of her time. Directing people to do the tasks needed from there rather than elsewhere.

Unfortunately, she was not alone in her eagerness to see the king and queen. How the sellsword had found out about their arrival, she knew not. Were it not that her own eagerness had not been as well hidden as she'd have liked it to be, then she may have worried he'd turned one of her men to his side. Had she not gone out of her way to welcome the king and queen back and so made such a drastic change to her daily routine, then she may have questioned even more how and why Daario Naharis had seen fit to move outside of a city he'd not left since his arrival. If it was not for the sight of the dragons as they flew over her head, she may have asked a thousand other questions. Instead, she simply smiled and made ready.

"Their graces, my lady," Erryk said as he moved to her, the Myrish Eye in his hand as his younger eyes were far better than her old ones.

It was an open carriage that Olenna rode to greet the king and queen in. Her eyes sought them out and her smile was even truer when she could discern no injuries in either of them as they rode. There were others among the party at the front of the large procession that she was pleased to see too. Davos Seaworth, Grey Worm, Ser Jorah Mormont, and Missandei all looked to be just as uninjured as the king and queen were. Olenna bid the carriage driver to halt and then was helped out by Arryk; she stood in the middle of the Kingsroad as the horses approached.

When she saw the faces of Baelon and Daenerys, she noticed them immediately. Though both seemed happy enough to see her, Baelon looked far different than he had when last she'd seen him. At first, she worried that it was the truth of who he now was that was the reason for that look. Quickly though, she dismissed that thought. Baelon had just fought a war and men who'd done so would often take time to let go of the horrors they may have witnessed or even committed. Some men, she knew, would never let go of such and she hoped that her king was not one of them.

"My king, my queen, King's Landing is yours," Olenna said as soon as Baelon and Daenerys dismounted.

"It is good to see you well, my lady," Baelon replied.

"Very much so," Daenerys added.

Moving closer to them both, Olenna whispered about Daario's presence just before the man himself arrived on horseback. She asked about Tyrion and was told he'd been taken prisoner and then looked on as Daario made a big show and dance about greeting the queen. The look on Daenerys' face was not one that the sellsword had been expecting, much to Olenna's delight. Baelon paid the man little attention and if anything it was the younger auburn-haired boy who glared at Daario far more than the king did.

"My brother, my lady. Rickon Stark." Baelon said as a way of introduction.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lord Rickon."

"You too, my lady. My brother has spoken much about you."

Olenna was somewhat surprised by that. Though soon enough she was greeting Missandei and Davos, some other men had moved to where Baelon stood and Daenerys, though not outwardly showing it, unless you knew what to look for, was angrily speaking to Daario Naharis. Seeing the large black wolf move to where the queen stood, Olenna readied to call her guards to protect their queen, only to see no concern on Baelon's face or on the faces of those whose job it was to do so. The growl the wolf let out was directed only at the sellsword and as his hand moved to his sword, that growl grew louder.

"Rickon," Baelon said and at once the wolf moved to stand by Rickon Stark's side.

Within the blink of an eye, Daario was back atop his horse and riding off toward the city and Daenerys had moved back to where Baelon stood.

"How safe is the city, my lady?" Daenerys asked.

"We've blocked off those areas that still need work, your grace. There are, I'm afraid, few places to house the army or even yourself and the king."

"We're most used to our tents by now, Lady Olenna," Baelon said, a soft sad smile on his face as he did so.

"Of course, your grace."

Missandei joined Olenna when she climbed back onto her carriage and the king and queen gave their orders to the Dothraki leader, Qhono, and to Grey Worm to see that the camp was set up. There were few if any other tents outside the city now. Most people who'd wished it had been moved to different keeps and lands and some may never return to King's Landing, even when it was rebuilt. Others had taken up accommodation where it could be found in the city itself. As they rode, Olenna turned to the girl beside her and asked her the questions that were on the tip of her tongue.

"His grace?"

"Has lost much, my lady. His closest friend, a loyal protector, and his sister most of all."

"The gods have once again been most cruel to that young man," she said softly.

"They have, yet they brought his brother and he himself back from the dead too, so I know not how I feel about these Old Gods that his grace had named his own."

"Had?"

"He curses them now, my lady."

"Her Grace?"

"Worries about her husband and yet is full of resolve," Missandei said proudly.

They soon arrived at the ground where the king and queen's own tent would be set up. Then to her surprise, Baelon, Rickon Stark, and a dour man who seemed close to the king, along with some Northern soldiers, all rode into the city itself. The large wolf ran by the side of Rickon Stark's horse as they did so. Again it was Arryk who helped her down from the carriage and with what was practiced ease, Olenna looked on as the king and queen's tent was erected. With a look to Missandei who nodded her head, Olenna, Erryk, Arryk, and Missandei herself moved to join the queen when she entered the tent.

She took the seat when she was bid to and they were joined by Davos Seaworth who she was surprised to see hadn't ridden with the king. Her worries for Baelon's mindset given what Missandei had told her as well as some concerns that Daario Naharis may try some foolish act should he and the king's path cross once more was what Olenna led with.

"His Grace?"

"Has gone to see the city for himself, Lady Olenna," Davos answered.

"Naharis, your grace. I know not what words you spoke to the man but…"

"I'm well aware of Daario Naharis' mindset. It is one that will soon be put right. Should his path cross with my husband's then he'll no longer be an issue I need to deal with." Daenerys said almost in a jape.

"Your grace?"

"My husband is well aware of my previous relationship with Daario Naharis, Lady Olenna. Though he may seem apathetic to certain things or even lost in his grief, he is very much not. Should Daario decide to push his luck or speak words he should not, then he'll find himself face-to-face with the man who ended the Night King. I've no worries as to which of them would come out on top in that encounter, do you?"

"No, your grace."

Olenna asked more about Tyrion and was most happy with what she heard. She spoke about the deaths of Euron Greyjoy and Cersei Lannister and that their heads at present rested in Rosby. When she spoke of the treasury and that Daario had apparently brought coin with him too, Daenerys seemed most excited by the news. Though when she spoke of the city and the loss of life, she very much was not.

"Lord Varys?"

"Died as peacefully as he could, your grace. In his last moments, he believed he'd failed you and his grace, I offered him the comfort that he had not."

"No, he had not. I thank you, Lady Olenna. For that and for all you've done. Baelon and I owe you a great debt and it's one we'll not forget."

"You owe me nothing, your grace. Not you and certainly not, his grace. I would be long dead without you both. As it is, it'll be age and not betrayal that finally takes me from this world." Olenna japed.

"Mayhap not," Davos said and Olenna smiled thinking it was a compliment from the man, only to find it was something much more interesting.

She listened as she was told the tale of Davos' own death. Of how he'd fallen and then been brought back by Lady Melisandre. The words he spoke of the red priestess shaming Olenna a little as she'd not even bothered to ask where she was or if she had survived. In the end, she had no need to ask as Davos' story told of the lady's demise and Olenna knew it was one more blow that Baelon had taken to heart. Though what he said next was both a truer blow and an opportunity that Olenna almost refused to take. It was one she may have denied if it was not for the sound of the voice from behind her.

"This is what Lady Melisandre wished for, Olenna. While there are lives I'd gladly give up to see my sister's smile once more, yours is not one of them. I bid you accept the gift you've been given and bear you no ill will for doing so. Far from it." Baelon said.

"I….thank you, your grace." she said as she looked at Davos and the necklace he bore in his hand "How…I don't…how does this work?"

"It's a necklace, you wear it." Rickon Stark said from beside his brother and Olenna almost chuckled at the simplicity of it.

Reaching out her hand, seeing it shake a little as she did so, Olenna took the necklace from Davos. She felt no power in it, no tingle as she held it in the palm of her hand. Nor did she feel anything different when she placed it around her neck. Not at first anyway. It was the sound of the gasps in the room that told her something had occurred. The loudest one of all came from herself as she looked down at her hands and saw no lines or wrinkles on them. Olenna was handed the looking glass by the king and the image that she saw when she looked into it, was one she'd not seen for more than forty years.

Olenna had seen six and seventy namedays. The woman she looked at had seen less than forty. If someone asked her to wager on her age then she'd say she was no older than Janna was. It was not only in looks that she felt younger either. All the aches and pains that had become so much a part of her life that she barely felt them, she now felt no more. When she rose to her feet, she did so even more spry and sprightly than she'd always considered herself to be. Looking to the Queen, who bore a true smile, Missandei who looked both parts shocked and gladdened, and finally, the King who wore a much warmer smile than he had when she'd greeted him earlier, Olenna found she had no words to speak. Other than the one.

"How?"

"Magic, Lady Olenna." Rickon Stark said and Olenna found she had no argument she could make to name it differently.

That night she ate dinner with the king, queen, and their inner circle. Baelon once again told her that he welcomed the gift she'd been given and he begrudged her it not. His words went even further than that and though she could sense that sadness close to the surface when he spoke them, the truth in them and the sentiment behind them were both things she welcomed. Later as she walked to her own tent, Erryk and Arryk both still looking at her unable to believe what they were seeing, Olenna knew she needed to send a raven to Desmera.

Her granddaughter would return to the city now the king and queen were back, her work on Dragonstone done. The last thing that Olenna wished for was her to be taken too much aback by how she now looked. She had just reached her tent when the twins stiffened their posture, the shape coming out of the darkness was not one they recognized and had yet to be determined as friend or foe. Upon seeing it was Davos Seaworth, the twins relaxed, as did Olenna herself.

"My lady."

"Lord Davos, has something occurred? Is my presence requested by their graces?"

"No, my lady. I came to offer you some words, words that were spoken to me by Lady Melisandre before she breathed her last." Davos said and Olenna bid him continue "They will have much need of you in the years to come, both of you."

"Lady Melisandre said that?"

"She did, my lady. I felt you may wish to know why it was you and me and not Arya Stark that she gave her gifts to."

"Am I wrong that a part of me wishes it was not?" she asked softly.

"No more than I am, my lady."

"I thank you, Lord Davos. I understand it not, but I thank you all the same."

"My lady," Davos said as he walked away.

Olenna entered her tent and sat down on her bed. She undressed and the sight that was presented to her was one that only proved just how true the magic that Lady Melisandre or her god possessed. Her body, just like her face and hands was no longer the body of an old woman, but one of a much younger one. Tempted as she may have been to remove the necklace to see what happened, in the end, she did not. She was not willing to risk breaking whatever spell she was now under, not until many years into the future at least.

"I will serve them both to the best of my ability and for as long as I am able. As I would have done with whatever time I had left. " Olenna said as she lay down on her bed and covered herself up before drifting off to sleep.

King's Landing 304 AC.

Dany.

He was getting better. To others, it may not seem so, but Dany knew Baelon's moods better than any, and she could see it each day they had ridden south. She'd seen it when Tyrion was taken prisoner and when they had left the North behind. Baelon had even confirmed it somewhat as they lay in their bed one night. His words were ones that surprised him as much as they did Dany as he told her that for once in his life, he welcomed leaving the North behind. She'd wished to comfort him more or offer him up words to soothe his broken heart and yet it had been with touches and caresses that she'd answered him instead.

They'd lain together each night that they traveled. Almost as if they felt they owed it to themselves and those who'd been lost to do so. Dany had even beseeched the gods to break the curse she lived under and to gift them a child. To allow them to bring a new life into this world so as to somewhat make up for all the lives they'd taken from them. Yet despite their numerous couplings, no seed had taken hold and so she'd once again put that thought out of her mind and had instead concentrated on helping her husband back to being the man he once was. In this, she had no stauncher or truer ally than Rickon Stark and when she was not by Baelon's side, she could be certain to find his brother there. Though not today.

It was Missandei who noticed the young lad following them as they moved through the city. Both he and his wolf kept their distance and Dany wagered that if she was to search the sky above she'd find one of his birds circling overhead. If it was another time and another place and she knew him not as she did, then she may take some offense to his watching her. Yet she knew full well he didn't do so out of some fear of her betraying his brother. Far from it. Instead, Rickon followed her because he was worried about her, and though she had more than enough protection, he was Baelon's brother and she was pack. The thought of which now brought a smile to her face.

"Dany?" Missandei asked, confused.

"Wolves, Missy. Don't let anyone tell you that they are any different than dragons. Not when it comes to those they care about."

Missandei nodded her head and a few moments later her closest friend was wearing the same smile that Dany herself was. Soon though they both wore much different looks. Dany had seen the city somewhat already, but not as clear as she did now. While there was much work going on to fix what Tyrion had destroyed, the true extent of the destruction was now very much laid bare. She tried not to think that it had and was much worse than this, yet she found the thought coming to her mind regardless. As did the thoughts of those who had suffered greatly because of one man's malice and ambition. Feeling her inner dragon rise at the thoughts of the death that she'd bring to Tyrion Lannister, Dany closed her eyes and sought out her children.

"īlon'll sōvegon aderī, issa riñar. " (We'll fly soon, my children.) she whispered softly and she swore she could feel their trills warm her heart once she'd done so.

Opening her eyes, Dany was met with a much happier sight. Here they'd seemed to have avoided the worst of the damage. The buildings had been checked and some had been reinforced where needed but most were remarkably undamaged. People went about their daily routines as if the city had not almost been completely devastated by wildfire and beside her, Missandei pointed out the children playing. It brought another true smile to Dany's face to see it and so bringing their ride to a stop, she climbed down off her silver and moved to where the children were.

While she'd ostensibly come here to deal with Daario Naharis, this too was part of why she wished to ride without Baelon. She needed to see it through her own eyes and without the comfort of any words her husband may offer. Just as he too had needed to see it a day or so ago. They were both so very much alike when it came to such things. At times seeking the comfort of the other's presence while at others they needed to do things alone. That Baelon had not argued or tried to dissuade her from both the tasks she set herself for the day only showed just how well he knew her. And how much he trusted her too.

"I need not look into my wife's heart to know the truth of it. For to do so I only need to know mine own."

"I love you, Baelon. You and you alone."

"As I love you, Dany."

Dany spent some time with the children and was most reluctant to leave them even when Missandei pointed out just how long they'd been away from their camp. Her closest friend worried that Baelon or someone else may get the wrong idea about why that was, while Dany very much did not. Something she told her friend as they rode now to the docks.

"I worry not that Baelon would be jealous, Missy. He has naught to be jealous about."

"I know, Dany. Yet men are strange at times."

"As are we, are we not?" Dany japed back.

"We can be." Missandei chuckled.

When they reached the building that Daario had taken for himself, Dany steadied herself. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the large black wolf as it prowled. There was no sign of Rickon Stark, however. Not that she worried about her Goodbrother any. He was there, out of sight, mayhap, but only hers. The powers he possessed and which Baelon had confided had grown stronger as they traveled, would ensure that what his wolf or birds saw, he saw too and Dany wouldn't put it past him to be in some other familiar by now.

The smile that Daario wore when he greeted her was one that grated on her a little. She knew full well what that smile suggested and it proved he'd barely listened to the words she'd spoken to him upon her arrival in the city. That day she'd done all she could to dissuade him from any foolish thought he may have, but she knew him too well to think it would be enough. Be it his pride, arrogance, or something else, he'd think she spoke those words only because of those around her. Today she'd speak those and others and leave him in no doubt that he held no place in her heart and would never grace her bed again. This would be the last time she'd let words be how she expressed her feelings regarding him.

"My Queen."

"Daario," she replied curtly as he kissed her hand over extravagantly.

"Missandei of Naath, it's good to see you well," Daario said, his smile lessened as he looked at Missy.

"You too, Commander."

"No Grey Worm, my queen?"

"Torgho Nudho has his own duties to attend to."

Dany watched as Daario took note of who she'd brought with her and who she'd not. She'd bid Jorah to allow her to do this alone and had asked him instead to guard Baelon's back today. While she dealt with Daario and took stock of the city, her husband acted as a king and would be no doubt bored by the meetings he needed to attend. Yet he'd attend them regardless and for now they had but one member of the Kingsguard. Best he stood at Baelon's shoulder than hers. As too would Torgho Nudho.

"I shall have food prepared, my queen. The fare here is not what I'm used to and they make terrible versions of dishes from Essos, yet I still find them far more to my palate than those of these lands."

"You've not had a true northern pie then." she said to a giggle from Missandei "Trust me there are few better things to warm you up after a day in the cold."

"Where you cold often, my queen?" Daario asked suggestively.

"Rarely," she replied and enjoyed seeing his smile falter.

Turning down the offer of his arm, she walked beside Daario as they entered the building. Only to stop just before they did so. The auburn hair and blue eyes seemed close enough to touch and yet Rickon Stark was some distance from her. Dany could make out the expression on his face as if he was not, however. It was one that she'd seen on Jorah and Grey Worm's as well as on Baelon's from time to time. One that showed his concern and worries for her and she welcomed the sentiment and the feeling. Hoping that the small nod of her head showed she was in no danger here, she entered the building and was led to a room with a table set for two.

Dany knew what she should say and do. She knew full well how what she was about to say would be taken and yet she did so anyway. Bidding Missandei to leave her alone, for now, she tried not to glare at Daario when that smile that was starting to annoy her appeared once again on his face. Taking a seat, she picked at her food and drank some of the wine, finding both to offer her no comfort in their tasting. Wondering how she was to start this, it was Daario who chose her words for her and he made a grave error in his own words that he led with.

"He seems a small man, your husband." Daario said and Dany felt her ire rise.

"You really are a fool, Daario. I had not noticed it before but by the old gods, you truly are an idiot at times. My husband is ten times the man you are. He is a man amongst men. Closer to a damn god than a man if truth be told."

Daario snorted and Dany almost rose to her feet, instead, she picked up her glass and drank another small swallow from it. It didn't calm her any and yet she welcomed the brief respite it offered.

"It takes a god to kill a god and make no mistake, the Night King was a god of sorts. Yet it was my husband who struck him down and turned the darkness that you and all of us had been living in back into the light that we now know. The Prince that was Promised shall Bring the Dawn. A prophecy spoken of for hundreds of years. One fulfilled by Baelon Targaryen, my husband. This is the man you call small. A man whose shadow alone covers more ground than every single deed you've ever accomplished in your entire life." Dany declared, her voice firm, and yet she'd not raised it once.

"I spoke only in stature, my queen. You've known larger men than he before." Daario said, a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke the words.

"Have I indeed? For I tell you now and without hesitation, I've known no men before, Baelon. Drogo, you, both mere boys compared to my husband. Mere ants compared to the dragon he is. Where I to but whisper it in his ear, then you'd not see the sun when it arose on the morrow. If he or I wished it, then your life would be over in the blink of an eye or the click of my fingers." she said as she first blinked and then clicked her fingers for effect "Be thankful that we do not."

Dany rose to her feet and though she was still not much taller than a sitting Daario, she looked down at him anyway.

"I came here to retake my family's throne from those who'd stolen it from us. I believed that was my destiny and my birthright. It was what I sought. What I thought was needed to make me whole and yet it was but a dream. The only thing I ever truly needed or wished for was someone to share my heart with. Someone to be my equal. To love me as I love them. Yet I had long given up on ever finding such a man in this world or the next." Dany said, seeing Daario shrink a little in his seat "Only for Baelon to come into my life and take my heart as he offered me his own. My husband is a dragon, as am I, Daario Naharis. Baelon is a true dragon and only a dragon can love a dragon."

She moved away from the table and barely heard the words that Daario spoke. Stopping at the door, she turned to look back at him.

"You will return to Meereen by week's end. Rule the city in my name and be thankful that I still have a place in my service for you. I offer you but that and you bring me no more than that in return. I have no need of you further than that, no need of anyone further than that. My husband is a dragon, Daario Naharis, it would bode well for you to remember that. For should you wake him then you'll find nothing but death awaits you, just as the Night King and his army of dead men found to their cost."

Walking out of the room, she noticed the mouse scurry along the floor and somehow withheld the small laugh that she so longed to let loose. Dany soon met up with Missandei and they left the building after she'd done so. They'd not ridden more than a hundred or more feet when they were joined by Rickon and his wolf.

"Goodsister," Rickon said with a nod as he climbed upon the offered horse.

"All is well, Goodbrother?" she asked curiously.

"All is well. I've been busy watching dragons." Rickon said pointedly and Dany shook her head when Missandei looked at her.

"And what have you seen, Goodbrother?"

"That it's not just those that fly that people should fear." Rickon smiled.

"No, Goodbrother, it very much is not," she replied as they rode back to their camp, Dany was more than eager to see another dragon and she wondered if Baelon was up to a late-night flight.

The Neck/King's Landing 304 AC.

Tyrion Lannister.

There was peace to be found while being held in confinement. A time to think and let your mind deal with things you may otherwise not have. The knowledge that every moment, hour, or day that you knew was one that took you closer to your last was ever present and yet it was not the end that your mind dwelt upon, much to Tyrion's surprise. Instead, it was the things you didn't do that you should have or things you did that you should not. Those were what filled his mind and had done so ever since he'd been taken, prisoner.

He should have expected it and yet he very much did not. As always he'd thought himself so very clever and had done so right up to when the guards and the wolf had surrounded him. Tyrion hadn't even had a chance to consider fleeing and knew no words of his would talk his way out of the situation he'd found himself in. So for once, it wasn't with a clever response that he answered when he was bid to. Two words were all that came to him as Rickon Stark had moved forward and ordered the guards to arrest him.

'I'm fucked.'

In some ways, it allowed Tyrion to find an upside to Jaime's death. Something he'd not been able to do since the moment it had been revealed to him. Before that moment all he'd done was to plot and plan some way to see Jon Snow suffer greatly for being the reason why Jaime was no longer in this world. Since then, he'd just been relieved that Jaime wasn't alive to hear that it had been he who'd done what his brother had stopped the Mad King from doing all those years earlier. He who'd unleashed wildfire upon a city and had burned thousands of innocents in doing so.

Knowing that his brother wouldn't look upon him with hate-filled eyes or be disgusted by the fact they shared blood, had given Tyrion some comfort. It was to be all he was to be afforded as other than ensuring he stayed alive so he could be tried for his crimes, Daenerys and Jon Snow cared not for how he was treated. He was fed poor food and confined to a tumbrel when they traveled. Those who rode nearest to him were allowed to spit and jeer to their heart's content. His nights were spent in a cage that was heavily guarded and other than briefly when he'd been detained, he'd not seen Daenerys nor Jon Snow since. Were he to wager upon it, he'd say he'd see them only once more before he was sent to his gods.

As for how that was to be achieved, well that was the stuff of nightmares and he'd had many of those as they traveled further south. Torn apart by wolves or fed to the dragons, handed to the loved ones of those who'd died when King's Landing had burned. The most pleasant death he could imagine was to face Jon Snow and to lose his head to Dark Sister and yet he doubted that he'd be lucky enough for that to be his fate. What he did know for certain was that there was no escaping it now. That this time there was no Varys to help him escape from King's Landing and no Red Viper to stand for him in a trial by combat. Not even Bronn was willing to do so and it hadn't even taken much for his former sworn sword to be bought away from him. Bronn's words still rang out in Tyrion's head when he closed his eyes at times.

"Not even for double the price."

Laying down for another night's fitful sleep, Tyrion wondered what shape his nightmares would appear to him tonight and found very quickly they took him to days not long past.

A few weeks ago.

He looked down at the body of his brother. Jaime looked for all intents and purposes as if he was simply sleeping and yet it was clear that he'd never open his eyes again. Despite the look of pure contentment and peace upon his brother's face, Tyrion's expression was full of anger and hatred. Not for his brother but for the man that Jaime had died to protect.

Jon Snow had come and named Jaime a true hero. He'd named himself as not worthy of the life that Jaime had given up to see that he didn't fall. In this, Tyrion agreed with him wholeheartedly. He was very much not worthy of the life of a Lion. Tyrion had allowed him to speak the words and had watched as he dared to lay a hand on Jaime's face and place a kiss on his forehead. Had he been armed at that moment then he'd have probably taken his chance and stabbed him where he stood. Were they alone at the time, he may have still taken a risk and made an attempt for the knife that Jon Snow bore on his hip. Instead, he'd had to listen and nod and then wait for the man to leave so that he could plan his end.

Later he'd spoken words that he should not and only that he'd not truly placed the fault of Jaime's death at Jon Snow's door or he'd have mayhap faced consequences for doing so. His words had been taken as those of a man in grief, however, and so they'd been ignored instead of challenged. By the time words were spoken over the dead and Daenerys had named them as the heroes and heroines that they were, Tyrion had been able to calm himself enough to hide his true intent. Or so he'd thought at the time.

He was happy to leave Winterfell and the North behind and believed that one good thing had come out of Jaime's death. For it brought him somewhat closer to the queen once more. While not fully welcomed back into the fold, his brother's sacrifice had earned him some of the favor he'd lost. Combined with the fact that Jon Snow was wallowing in his own grief and that there was much to be done to put the realm to rights, by the time they reached the Neck, Tyrion was certain he was to be offered a place on the Small Council once again. Not as Hand, mayhap, since somehow that old cunt Olenna Tyrell had managed to survive, but some position which he would then use to gain even further favor. Then as they camped in the sight of Moat Cailin, his world came crashing down around him once more.

"Get up you lazy sod," Bronn called out.

"It's not morning yet," he replied groggily.

"Thank the gods."

"You believe in the gods now." he japed as he rolled out of his bedroll and welcomed the wine pouch that was handed to him.

"I've seen a night that never ended, dead men fighting against the living, and a war that none of us had a right to live through. Yet live through it I did, as did the woman who shares my bed and is soon to be the lady of mine own keep. So aye, I believe in the gods now."

"How poetic," he japed.

"Fuck you, you little cunt." Bronn replied as they laughed at each other.

"Come let's break our fast, no doubt we'll not be staying here long enough to rest," he said, rising to his feet.

"No, we very much won't."

They were walking when he saw them. Rickon Stark and that black wolf of his, its yellow eyes staring at him as it stalked behind its master. Seeing the number of men with him and the way they looked at him, he began to worry, and then before he knew it they had surrounded him. Tyrion noticed the dour former Night's Watch man, Edd something or other as well as men of the Free Folk and North. Yet it was the look that Rickon Stark aimed in his direction that truly made him worry that his time was at an end.

"Lord Bronn, you should move away and head back to Lady Tyene." Rickon Stark said firmly as Tyrion looked at Bronn and shook his head.

"Bronn…."

"Not even for double the price," Bronn said before he could speak any more words to him.

Tyrion looked on forlornly as Bronn walked from his side without turning even once. Sighing, he turned his attention to Rickon Stark, the guards, and most especially the wolf who had now moved even closer to where Tyrion stood.

"I'd run if I were you." Rickon Stark said, almost daring him to do so "But I know you won't."

The words and how they were spoken sent a shiver down Tyrion's spine and though he willed his legs to move, they refused.

"Arrest him and see him placed in the tumbrel, their graces will wish to speak to him later," Rickon said and it was Edd who moved to him.

Tyrion felt himself be almost carried to the cart that the tumbrel was placed upon. He'd asked why he was being arrested only to receive no reply and yet he knew full well the reason for his imprisonment. As he did for what that imprisonment meant. They jumbled him into the tumbrel and he almost laughed at the fact that it wasn't much larger than he himself was. Tied, chained, and guarded by more than enough men to make sure he didn't even try to escape, it was the only amusement he had for the next few hours.

At what point it was that he noticed the bird that rested at the front of the cart, he knew not. Though it was only moments after he did so that he noticed the black wolf was not too far from it either. The day soon turned into night and when it did, they stopped their traveling. He was then released and allowed to stretch his legs before he was then taken to the cage that was to be his new home for mayhap what little remained of his life. After he was fed a pitiful excuse for a meal, they finally came to speak to him. Daenerys looked every inch a dragon queen while Jon Snow bore the first expression of anything other than grief that Tyrion had seen him wear.

"Your sister is dead, Tyrion. She and Euron Greyjoy both lost their heads, literally." Daenerys said almost gleefully.

"My sister had lost her head years ago," he replied.

"Why Tyrion? Why would you do such a terrible thing? I knew you held no love for my husband and mayhap even none for me, but how could you do that to men, women, and children who harmed you not?" Daenerys asked and Tyrion could see she truly wished for an answer.

It took him some time to find one. One that he felt he could speak of, anyway. For the truth of why he did what he'd done was well known to him.

"I sought my position back, my favor back…" he began and Daenerys struck him hard across the face once and then again.

"And thought this the way to achieve such a thing. Are you a fool? A monster?"

"I am the Demon Monkey. The Imp. You name those people as innocents and yet where were they when I was being tried for a crime I didn't commit?" he spat "I told them all that I wished I had poison enough to kill each and every single one of them and I meant it. They were ungrateful wretches and deserved all they got."

"As will you." Jon Snow said, his first words in the entire exchange.

"Your brother was a hero, you….you are naught but a monster like your father and sister before you and we are building a world where monsters are no longer welcome," Daenerys said as Jon Snow nodded and Tyrion was helped back to his cage.

He dreamt of them that night. The family he'd once known. Jaime turned away from him while his father and sister welcomed him with open arms and it shamed him greatly. So much so that he woke and sobbed like he'd not done in many years.

Now.

Days had felt endless as he was kept in the makeshift cell. The food he was given was barely edible and yet he ate it as if it was the sweetest meal he'd ever known. Alone in the darkness with naught but his thoughts, Tyrion had much time to contemplate his mistakes. Finding that each of them haunted him equally. From the days before he'd been forced to flee to Essos to the days spent there and those upon his return to Westeros.

He'd proved himself a true lion in the end. Tyrion had allowed his pride to be his downfall. Had he not been so proud then he'd not have argued so fervently for the plans that Jon Snow had challenged. Tyrion could have remained as Hand of the King and stayed within his queen's inner circle. Had he not been so proud, then he would have never lost her favor so completely. Though her love was never something that was his to know.

As for Jon Snow, his feelings toward him were mixed, to say the least. A large part of him hated him and blamed him for his misfortunes. Just as he had his father and sister among others over the years. Another part of him almost admired him for playing the game far better than he had. Although, Tyrion knew full well that in truth, Jon Snow was not a man who played the Game of Thrones, or at least not how he and others had.

When the day finally came, Tyrion was ill-prepared for it. He'd somehow gotten used to being held as a prisoner and almost believed that was to be his fate. To be left to rot and die alone in a cell, forgotten by everyone and missed by no one. It was not to be. Death was to be the only respite he knew and that death it seemed was to come today.

"Get up." the guard said as he kicked him heavily and Tyrion was relieved that in the darkness the kick only grazed him "I said get up."

Shielding his eyes from the light, Tyrion was manhandled out of the cell and down the corridor. Soon enough he'd reached the door that led out of the cells and into the courtyard and he found his feet wouldn't' answer his commands. The kick he got this time was one he felt truly and he fell against the door, only to be grabbed and shoved through it and out into the daylight. Once again he needed to shield his eyes and this time it took far longer for the pain to go away and allow him to open them. What he saw when he did was not a pleasant sight. Nor was the sound of the jeers and the feel of the rotten fruit as it hit him square in the face.

"MURDERER!"

"MONSTER!"

"DEMON MONKEY!"

"IMP"

He heard it all as he was moved past the large crowd that had assembled and out into the largest of the courtyards. To his surprise, there was a cart with a cage built onto it awaiting him there and before he knew it, he was being thrown inside. Again it was jeers and rotten fruit, as well as some stones that he did his best to avoid, which were thrown at him as the cart moved through the city. Along the route, it seemed as if every man, woman, and child who now named this city their home had come to see him lose his life.

How long it took them to get to their destination, he knew not, only that by the time they did, he was crying. Tyrion had always known the truth of what people thought of him. His status as Tywin Lannister's son had, however, never allowed that truth to be spoken. Or at least not to him. Now, it very much did and it was a sobering thing to hear just how hated you truly were. He may not care for those who shouted out the words, yet he'd not lie to himself and say that hearing them didn't hurt him though.

So Tyrion was almost grateful when they reached the end of the last journey he'd ever get to undertake. What he wasn't grateful for was that it would seem that his time in this world was not yet at an end. Instead, he was forced to wait as more and more people arrived to see him lose his life. Forced to listen to more and more hateful things being spoken about him and to endure more things being thrown at him. At one point, he swore someone through some sort of shit at him and he prayed it had come from an animal's arse rather than a human one.

"Their graces, King Baelon and Queen Daenerys Targaryen." a voice called out and Tyrion looked through half-open eyes to see them both arrive.

Both of them looked every inch the king and queen they were and behind them rode guards dressed in black and red and one man wearing a white cloak. Ser Jorah didn't look his way, however, and neither did the king and queen. Once they'd dismounted from their horses, a woman that looked familiar and yet not stood forward and it took Tyrion far too long to put a name to the face. He'd mayhap not have been able to at all had someone else not done it for him.

"We have gathered here today to see those who committed the gravest of all crimes finally pay for their actions. In the name of their graces and as Hand of the King and Queen, I ask for the first prisoner to be brought forward."

Tyrion readied himself only to find it was not to be him that was to be dealt with first. It allowed him to look once again at the woman and to name her as Olenna Tyrell and he was stunned at just how different she looked. He understood it not and had very little time to try and make sense of it in his mind as Randyll Tarly was brought forward and Jon Snow moved into position.

"Lord Randyll Tarly, you have been found guilty of treason against the crown and against your liege lady. A charge that carries but one sentence, death. Do you have any last words before you're sent to your gods?" Jon Snow asked.

"I ask only for my crimes to be mine alone, your grace. My treason to reflect only upon me and not my House." Randyll began "While I expect nor forgiveness for my actions, I name them as the folly they were and am shamed by them, truly."

"May the gods grant you the forgiveness that we do not, Lord Tarly." Jon Snow said as Randyll took a knee and bowed his head over the block.

Tyrion was not the only one who looked on with curious eyes as Jon Snow seemed to hesitate before removing Dark Sister. Then in the blink of an eye, the thin blade was raised and fell and with one cut, Randyll Tarly's head was removed from his body. As soon as it was done, all eyes looked first to him and then to Olenna Tyrell. The now much younger woman steadied herself before she began to speak once more.

"While Lord Tarly's crimes were unforgivable, they were not the worst crimes we seek to see answered for this day. One man and one man alone carried out a deed that will go down as the worst atrocity ever committed in Westeros. Not the sack of King's Landing nor the Red Wedding can hold a candle to what Tyrion Lannister did. No man has ever deserved death more than he and I have no doubt that the seven hells await him. Bring forth the prisoner." Olenna said, her words as hate-filled as her eyes were when she looked at him.

Despite what he'd done, Tyrion felt Olenna had looked at Randyll Tarly more favorably and as he was moved from the cart, he shuddered to see the block and the body being taken away. He was helped to what looked like a stake and then tied to it and he felt his legs give out as it was done. It was not to be a blade that took his life and as he contemplated just what form his death would take, Jon Snow began to speak.

"Lady Olenna speaks true. This thing, for he is no man, this thing in front of us took the lives of far better people than he ever could claim to be. For those who lost a loved one due to his actions, I beg a moment's silence." Jon Snow said and Tyrion swore for the next moment or two he could have heard a pin drop as not a single sound was heard despite there being thousands of people present.

"The world my husband and I seek to build has no place for monsters such as Tyrion Lannister." Daenerys said as she moved to stand beside Jon Snow "So let the fate of this particular monster stand as a warning to one and all. For this is the fate that awaits them all."

He heard them then, the dragons sounding out their roars as they flew overhead. All three of them were there and as one they landed in front of him. Tyrion looked on as Daenerys reached out and took her husband's hand and as one they spoke the word. It was not Jon Snow's voice he heard, but that of Baelon Targaryen and it had taken him right to the last moments of his life to realize that simple truth. The bastard boy was gone and only a Dragon King remained, a Dragon King who'd found his Dragon Queen.

"Dracarys," they said in unison, and then the flames came.

Many years earlier, he'd seen the dragons lay down their flames and had thought it to be an awe-inspiring sight. He'd wondered if the flames were even felt by those in their path or if they simply turned to ash and met their ends quickly. The truth of it was now revealed to him and it was not one he welcomed learning. Whether or not the dragons held back and so their flames were lesser or whether this was how they felt to each and every one who knew them, Tyrion knew only one thing in his last moments. Being burned to death was not quick and it was not painless and it took far longer than anyone could imagine.

The Neck/King's Landing 304 AC.

Baelon Targaryen.

From a moon ago until now.

Grief was something that Baelon knew all too well. Something that he'd had much practice doing over the course of his life. The emotion of loss was not a new one for him to face and yet never before did that loss feel as devastating to him as the one he'd suffered. When he'd been at the Wall and had learned of the death of the man he'd believed to be his father, it had pained him greatly. Yet circumstances didn't truly allow for him to do anything with that loss other than let it be the fuel for what it was he needed to do.

Hearing of events at the Twins had almost broken him. While Baelon had not wept for Ned Stark's death simply because he had not the time to do so, this was not the case when it came to Robb's. He had found a quiet place away from everyone he knew and allowed his tears to fall for the brother he loved. Baelon had cursed the gods for their cruelty and had sought answers from them that had never been given. It had taken him some time to even be able to remember the times he and Robb had shared together without those memories forcing him to his knees.

When Ygritte fell. As she lay in his arms and he watched the light go out of her eyes, Baelon had felt his heart break in two. She had been a wild and free woman and while now he knew the difference between the love he believed he'd had with her and the true love he shared with his wife, at the time he'd known no better. Tears had fallen from his eyes when he lit her pyre and it had made him believe that he would never share his heart as truly with anyone ever again.

After the fight with the Night King. Seeing that Jaime Lannister had truly fallen, Baelon hadn't grieved for the man. Not that they'd not become friends or that he hadn't mourned the man's loss, but simply because he believed that had anyone ever dared to ask Jaime how he wished to die, then how he did would have been his answer. Baelon respected the man, truly at the end of his life. He knew too that Jaime would have believed that with his final act, he'd found the honor that so many thought him lacking. The debt that the former Kingsguard believed he owed to Baelon's father and family, to his former brothers, had, in the end, been paid in full.

'A Lannister always pays their debts.'

Later when he'd seen Tormund lying there beside Brienne, Baelon had mourned and grieved for his truest friend in equal measure. He could barely imagine not seeing the smiling and oft annoying face of Tormund Giantsbane for the rest of his days, and yet, just as with Jaime, he felt something else too. Tormund had died in Brienne's arms and she in his. They'd left this world together and as any man in love knew, there was no other way you'd have wished to go. So he mourned him, hated the gods once again for their cruelty, and yet it had not broken him.

'No that was to come later' he thought bitterly.

She was his little sister. His partner in crime. The girl he'd loved most in this cruel world and the only person he'd ever been certain had loved him unconditionally. To see her laying there lifeless had shattered his heart into a million pieces and Baelon simply didn't have the strength to put it back together again. He'd not yet truly grieved for her, nor truly mourned her. In truth, Baelon wasn't certain he could ever even feel again.

Had it not been for his brother. For Ghost and Rhaegal, for Wylla, and most of all, for Dany, then the shell of a man he'd been when he realized there was no chance of Arya coming back as he and Rickon had, would be all that remained of him. Baelon cared not for the North, the Realm, or even his own health in those first few days. He ate because Dany begged him to and he could refuse her nothing. His movements and presence during meetings or even the funerals they'd held were only because his brother willed it of him.

When he left Winterfell behind, he'd embraced his one remaining sister and had almost refused to let her go. Yet once he had, he'd all but forgotten about Sansa, Winterfell, and the North itself. The further south he traveled, the more certain he was that he would never see any of them again. He cared not to. Could not bear to. Not knowing that she would never be there and that each little thing he saw would only remind him of the little sister he had loved and lost.

"Come brother, there is much we must do. Lord Reed wishes to show us something in Greywater Watch."

"I care not for what Lord Reed or anyone wishes me to see, Rickon."

The memory was a fuzzy one and had it not been for what he had then heard, Baelon would have been lost in it and others as he'd been these past few days.

"Tyrion, Baelon, he betrayed us. It was he who set King's Landing alight." Dany said and Baelon though he wished to, had not the strength of will to yet do what he must.

"Rickon I…"

"I'll handle it, brother," Rickon said, and the first smile he'd worn in who knew how long appeared but briefly on Baelon's face.

Later when they confronted Tyrion, Baelon let Dany do most of the talking. One simple sentence was all that he uttered. He felt it though, a change coming over him as Dany spoke her words and Baelon looked at the monster in the cage. Other than for brief moments when he was alone with Ghost, Rhaegal, Wylla, or when he walked the camp with Rickon. Or those few precious moments he shared with Dany when she slept and he looked down upon her peaceful expression, Baelon felt an emotion other than grief. He felt hatred and he allowed it to wash over him and its fire to drive away the cold ice that loss had brought to his heart.

By the time they reached King's Landing, he was feeling it even more. He even welcomed the sight of the Sellsword and the look on Dany's face when she saw him. There was no jealousy, no fear that the woman he loved would abandon him for another. For the first time in weeks, Baelon was able to offer someone else comfort when they worried about something. His words to his wife after she'd dealt with Daario Naharis and his actions afterward, both went a long way to showing just how much he loved her and more importantly for Dany, trusted her.

"You are better?" Dany asked after they'd lain together and he held her in his arms.

"No." he said honestly and felt the small shudder that ran through her body "I will be," he said determinedly.

The days after that night were ones when he began to act like the king he was meant to be. Baelon spoke to Olenna and thanked her for the letter she'd given Dany to bring him all those moons ago. Her words had meant much to him at a time when he'd needed clarity and so he told her just how grateful he was for them. Then Baelon had set about showing the lady just how much her words and advice had truly meant to him.

Word had been sent to Dragonstone and Randyll Tarly's day of judgment was finally here. He would not be the only one to face judgment for his crimes, though Baelon knew that both he and Tyrion would face different sentences. With that taken care of, it was to other matters that Baelon turned his attention to. Marwyn the Mage, an Archmaester that Princess Sarella and to Baelon's surprise, both his father and granduncle had much respect for, had arrived and helped in the aftermath of what Tyrion had done.

Baelon wished to take the measure of the man and so, he and Ghost walked to where the dragons rested with Marwyn by his side. The sheer look of wonder on the Mage's face when he saw the dragons close up. How he spoke about them and magic and his life's work being proved true by their existence. Allied to the way that both Ghost and Rhaegal reacted to the man's presence, all combined to make Baelon trust him somewhat. Enough to offer him the post of Grandmaester for true and to ask his advice on how to deal with his less enthusiastic fellow Archmaesters and Maesters.

"Root and Stem, your grace. There is naught else for it but to remove them from the Citadel completely. For they will never be on the side of you or your House."

"They would plot against us?" Baelon asked.

"I believe they already have and it's not the first time they've done so your grace."

He took the new Grandmaester's words to heart and bid him to write a list of who he believed they had truly against them. Once he had it, a raven was sent to Dorne asking for Princess Sarella's view on the names contained. Baelon asked for one simple thing from the princess, to put a line through any man on the list she trusted not. In time, he'd deal with them but there were other things to deal with first of all.

Wylla was as always a great comfort to him and more than once, he'd toured the city with her by his side. Baelon had asked about her family back in Dorne and found they were all grown and with families of their own. Had she but wished it, then he'd have arranged for a comfortable keep for her back in her homeland and he offered to provide for her family only to find her and they were happy with their lot in life. She made but one request of him and it was one he granted almost before the words left her lips.

"I wish to stay close to you, Baelon. Whatever years I have left I wish them to be spent in your service. One day, you and your wife will bring babes into this world and I'd like to be to them what I had so wished to be to you." Wylla said, tears falling down her cheeks as she spoke.

"Are and were to me." Baelon said wiping those tears "I can think of no one I'd wish near any babe of mine and Dany's than you, Wylla. But not as a servant, you're more than that. You're family." he said, kissing her cheek.

Dany had been more than happy to find that Wylla was staying with them and when Baelon brought up what she'd said about their future children, for once his wife didn't try to reject the words. Whether it was because of all they'd seen, known, and gone through. Or was the faith she had in them, Dany was at least starting to come around to the idea of a family of their own. His wife certainly hoped for one and it would be through no lack of trying that one would be denied to them. As their coupling had once again become something that brought them naught but pleasure.

When the day came to an end Tyrion and Randyll Tarly, Baelon was resolved and ready. He took one of them out of the world with a swing of his sword and the other with the help of his and Dany's dragons. Both he and his wife knew, even if no one else did, that the dragons had lessened the ferocity of their flames when they burned Tyrion. Baelon could only hope that in his final few moments, the Dwarf of Casterly Rock felt the same pain he'd caused so many to suffer.

As Dany dealt with the Small Council and its appointments, Baelon dealt with matters that were more practical. They had but one member of the Kingsguard and so he and Ser Jorah set about to find others to fill the ranks. Baelon tested some candidates with his own sword and others with Ghost and Bear, Rickon's wolf, and his brother by his side. Ravens were sent out calling for a tourney to be held on the grounds outside the city. One that the people needed according to Lady Olenna and one that Baelon and Jorah would truly find the men who'd wear their cloaks and replace those who'd fallen.

"We'll not find a Ser Jaime or a Brienne, Ser Jorah. Though in time those we do may prove themselves worthy of serving as they both were."

"Aye, your grace."

In Ser Donnel Waynwood, Baelon believed he'd found a man who would serve them well. The man though was reluctant to join an order that placed celibacy at its heart and was upfront about it. Which earned him some of Baelon's respect. So Baelon bid the man to join him as he made his way to the new barracks of the City Watch. Ser Donnel, Baelon, and a half dozen Unsullied guards along with Ghost, all walked through the city unhindered and unmolested.

"Ser Eddison Tollet, Ser Donnel, the new commander of the City Watch, you know of his story?" he asked as they walked.

"No, your grace."

"Edd, like me, was a brother of the Night's Watch. Like me, he was its Lord Commander. I may be biased here, but I like to think in its final days the order at least had two good men at its head." he said, half japing, which was a new thing these last few days. His humor had somewhat returned, even if it was rarely shown.

"I dare say few would say different, your grace."

"While I joined seeking to remove the stain from Lord Stark's cloak and from mine own because of who I believed I was. Edd was lured in with tales of free food, drink, and even women. He'd oft grouse to Grenn, Pyp, Sam, and me about what a fool he was." Baelon said, a soft smile on his face as he remembered sitting at the table with the first true friends he'd ever made "Over the course of our time there we found out that some of the brothers would sneak off to the brothel in Molestown. It was a known thing and the Lord Commander and other senior men of the Watch turned a blind eye to it."

"I was not aware of this, your grace. Like everyone else I was raised to believe…"

"That there was honor in giving up your wish to lay with a woman." Baelon said for him and Donnel nodded "What is honor compared to a woman's love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms ... or the memory of a brother's smile? Wind and words. Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory and our great tragedy."

"Your Grace?"

"My granduncle, Aemon Targaryen. He was the wisest man I ever knew and he spoke those words to me when I was but a young fool." Baelon said with a chuckle "There is nothing as powerful as love in this world, Ser Donnel. Nothing fuels us more or gives us strength when we are weak. I seek only strong men to stand at my wife's and mine own backs. At our children's backs. Men I don't need to worry about whether or not they're sneaking off to lay with a woman in disregard to their vows or oaths. I served an order that supposedly held true to the vow to take no wife or father no children, I'll not seek any other to do so. Take the day, Ser Donnel, take the day and give me your answer, and know I'll think no less of you no matter what that answer will be." Baelon said as he saw Edd and moved toward him.

"I need no day, your grace. It would be the greatest honor of my life to serve you and her grace in the Kingsguard."

"Then I welcome you gladly, Ser Donnel."

Baelon spent the day with Edd and enjoyed both an ale and his friend's grumbling about the amount of work and responsibility that Baelon had thrust upon his shoulders. Edd half-heartedly asked if there was no one better suited than him and once again Baelon told him there very much was not. He bid Edd farewell and sent Ser Donnel to inform his family of his choice and then to report to Ser Jorah on the morrow. He then found himself walking almost aimlessly, Ghost leading the way and Baelon simply following.

Soon enough he was at the docks and looking out as ship after ship docked or sailed away. Most bore supplies to help rebuild the city. Some carried food to feed those who worked and lived there and though there was much work to still be done, Baelon felt just as these people no doubt did. Up to the task. Smiling to himself, he didn't turn around when he felt him near. Nor did he speak for some time when Rickon stood beside him. Both of them just looked out on the sea and smelt the fresh air that washed over them.

The dragons flew in the distance and Rhaegal was showing off for him. Baelon told him through their bond that they'd fly together later that night and that yes, he'd see if he could get Dany to fly with them. How long he and Rickon stood there silently, he knew not. It was a comfortable silence though, a needed one, and when eventually he turned to face his brother, Baelon saw the worried look that he'd seen far too often on Rickon's face and knew full well the reason for it. He was the reason for it, after all.

"It's time brother," Rickon said and Baelon nodded.

When they reached the remains of the Red Keep, Baelon dismissed the guards that were with them. Large sections of it had been destroyed and they were in the process of clearing the rubble before rebuilding it. What it would look like when it was finished, Baelon could only imagine, though it would be much different. A new keep, a new city, and a new start, the voice in his head said. Taking Dark Sister, Baelon began to dig around the ground and after he'd done so, both he and his brother knelt down and began to use their hands to dig even more.

Once they'd finished, Rickon moved to the pack that Baelon hadn't even noticed him carrying. A moment later, he held the Weirwood sapling in his hands and Baelon found himself staring at its blood-red leaves and white bark. Too small to yet be named a tree, it was still larger than Baelon expected. While he'd not gone to Greywater Watch with his brother, Dany, and the others, he had listened to his wife as she told him about what Rickon had brought back. He'd even taken a sneaky look at it as they traveled further south. Yet seeing it now felt different somehow. It felt more like a thing he cared about as if the timing was more right now than it had been then.

"We plant this together, brother," Rickon said and Baelon nodded.

Holding the sapling in his hand, Rickon doing likewise, Baelon felt a calm come over him. Gently, they placed it in the hole they dug and then covered it with the soil they'd disturbed. Before he knew it, Baelon's eyes had closed and he found himself praying to gods he'd long since believed had abandoned him. In truth, Baelon had abandoned them and had no wish to speak to them. Not then. Now, he spoke things he'd long since needed to. Standing up when he was done, he hoped his words had been listened to.

"Brother?" Rickon said worriedly upon seeing Baelon's expression.

"I'm getting better, brother. Thank you for being here," he said, offering Rickon as true a smile as he could and finding that it came much easier today than it had even yesterday.

"Come brother, no doubt my Goodsister is worrying about us both, and fuck me but I'm starved." Rickon said and Baelon gave him a chiding look "Sorry." Rickon said as Baelon mussed his hair and he, his brother, and their wolves turned to walk back to where Dany would be waiting eagerly for their return.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next The first of two Epilogues, which are complete chapters in of themselves. Old debts are settled, vengeance is wreaked and the realm and its lords and ladies look to the future and past under their new king and queen. While changes are brought to Westeros as the Dawn shines its light upon it.

These two chapters will be the next things updated in any of my fics and will be up this week.

Missed Reviews.

IziahMikaelson: Sorry to make you cry, but as you say it's always darkest before the dawn and we do intend things to end on a hopeful note.

Chapter 28 Reviews.

Suppes: We will see.

Daryl Dixon: So glad you liked it.

VDWade: Yes, Bran never learned that lesson and so it had to be forced upon him. Arya is a huge loss, to all of them. Tyrion can run no more.

Celexys: So happy you're still enjoying it, it's in its endgame now.

Biohazard: Really glad you liked it.

Irish Hermit: Yeah I think among the many failings of the show, not resolving Arya and the FM is one. I mean hell, if you want to make it that she's the actual chosen one then you could make it that the FM actually were testing her to prepare her and send her on her way. Instead, it makes no damn sense that they'd just let her go, but then again if we ponder on what made sense in the final season, we'd lose our minds. I'm glad Baelon's grief came across like that, I think it's the biggest loss he could face, other than Dany and I'm still a bit bitter that Sansa got a better reunion with Jon than Arya did. It just smacks of the favoritism they showed certain characters.

Yeah, I know some people may have wished to see Cersei die at Dany or Jon's or even Olenna's hand, but having her go out how she did here I think was at least better than the pathetic way the show ended. She was another character who they basically screwed over in the end, all she does in season 8 is drink wine and look out windows. Here, she was done the moment they took KL, so her death was meant to be anti-climactic since she no longer posed a threat and to show her hubris to think she could take what wasn't hers.

Olenna is just perfect to lead the reconstruction, I'm so glad you agree. I hate Bran, honestly. He did nothing and was given a crown, he never even played a true part in the NK's end or did anything useful. He's actually responsible for the worst of things when you think about it. Without him, Viserion would never have fallen, as they'd not have gone Beyond the Wall without his raven. Without him having Sam tell Jon when and how he did so, then he and Dany wouldn't have had to deal with all of that on top of what they needed to face. So KL may have not been as damaged and so many losses were inflicted upon them. So here, to have him face Hodor's fate felt fitting.

With Tyrion, certain the show version, he loses his wits after killing his father. Almost every single piece of advice he gives is either terrible or not acted upon by him later, such as a marriage alliance for Dany. Here, he thinks there is no one to know all he did and in some ways he'd have been right if it was not for Rickon. Though I sort of like the idea of Varys being who reveals it as I always felt he sort of screwed Varys over in the show.

Supremus: Lol, my co-writer and I are so not doing a sequel. We have two other stories we're really keen to work on. Last Wolf and a Jon and Aegon fic.

Creativo: Y también lo merecía totalmente.

N7 Greek-Valkkrie: Hope this makes up for it.

Wryesenseofhumor: It's the modern way to write strong female characters, have the shout and denigrate all those around them. It makes them so unlikeable and turns viewers off. Yet they continue to do it rather than you know, actually write a strong female character. Most men are not opposed to seeing a well-written female protagonist or badass woman. Hell, you only have to look at a show like Yellowstone to see how it can be done.

What makes it worse with Galadriel and I know some say she's younger here, so less calm, but what makes it worse is that she's so far removed from the character she is, that she's unrecognizable. Had they shown that Galadriel, we'd have loved her. Instead, we got a cosplay version that doesn't even resemble the character she's meant to be.

Obi-Wan in some ways is a terrible idea right from the get-go. Something about knowing that Ben was there all the time watching, is now ruined by the show and by knowing he just decided to go off on a little journey and abandon his post. That it ruins so much of the continuity, no matter how much they try to retcon it into working is again another example of modern writing. We either tear down a legacy character, reframe them and their stories so that this other character was the true heroine all the time or we make them do and say things that they'd not do or say.

The whole show is almost the duel and the duel is one of those things that you can tell some idiot came up with because they think it's cool. We as fans may think the same, like we may speak on it in the abstract, wouldn't it be cool if, but we're also not foolish enough to actually wish to see it. You're right, some parts of the fight are really good, and in a vacuum that's a cool thing to see, but when you break lore to get there and the journey there is as nonsensical as Obi-Wan's one was, it's pretty much a cherry on top or a really terrible cake.

So with Bran, GRRM has said it, now like I said it can be pulled off if Bran/TER is some master villain. It'll still be BS, but the Evil Bran as king thing would sort of at least make some sense. He's given the power to help, it corrupts him and he uses it to get what he wants, as terrible as that is, it sort of works. The show version just makes no damn sense.

Exactly with Jaime. The show throws his redemption away for no real payoff. It makes him OOC too and goes completely against where he is in the books.

With Davos it struck us that in hindsight, by making Mel always know that in the end, she'd save his life and so in some ways she always sort of worked that way in regards to him, convincing Stannis not to kill him, etc. It added to a back-story that is sort of already there. That it adds some guilty feelings and mixed feelings to Davos, only helps too.

I agree so much with Daario. The main reason we didn't go with Jon being how dealt with him here is that Dany doesn't need him to do so and it's almost overdone. Plus we wished to show just how much trust there was between Dany/Jon.

Ice was a hard thing to fix here, so I'm glad it sort of worked out. Jon's emotions I think are key as usually, the stoic thing goes exactly as you say. We have some key plans for Rickon, which you'll see in the final two chapters, but we wrote the end of his arc right from the very start of this fic, so we hope you like it when we reach it.

Glad you felt that with Benjen. Yeah, I saw that and I have to say that some of the enthusiasm I had about the possible show dimmed with the last interview. I mean I may be reading too much into it, but it almost sounded like we were getting more EMO Jon and while I want to see him deal with everything, I want anger and betrayal to be what he leads with. Not trying to come to terms with what he did as such, more, embracing who he is and what was taken from him.