Hello, all. Like most of you, I was disappointed with the final season of Game of Thrones. The story and plot lines were rushed and characters made sudden turns that just did not match the characters we had all grown to love (and a few we hate) over the course of the series. Some of you may not have been surprised by the way things ended. Maybe some of you have accepted it. Maybe that's the best thing you can do. As for me...I'm not quite there yet. But with this story, perhaps I too will gain closure. Will this match the ending George R.R. Martin has planned for his books? Probably not. Will I match anything he can write? Probably not. Will I cover everything the show creators missed? Probably not. But will this story be better than what they have written? Hopefully. This story will be much longer and more in-depth than the final season was and we'll get to see what our beloved characters are thinking as they go along. Just so you know, the first couple of chapters of this story will start out the same as the last season did, but will diverge more and more as we go on. The title of this story is Deliverance. At first, I didn't know what to call this story, but as I looked up the word deliverance, it meant "the state of being saved from something dangerous or unpleasant." So this is me delivering the show from an ending it did not deserve and delivering unto you a more sensible ending. So now, without further adieu, here is the first chapter of Deliverance, the way Game of Thrones should have ended.
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire. If so, I would be very rich and in hiding right now.
Chapter 1
The little boy ran through the snowy, frosty woods that surrounded the great castle of Winterfell. He hopped over rocks lodged in a small creek to get through to the small homes outside of Winterfell. He climbed over a snow-covered wagon and shoved his way through the crowd gathered by the side of the road. He could see tall charcoal black spear sticking up and walking in front of the crowd, but he couldn't see who was holding them. Finally, someone budged so he could see the circular, charcoal shields that accompanied the spears. He ran through the opening to get to the front of the crowd. He ran in front of the crowd and climbed up a small tree. Now he could see them all in their four-line formation as they marched through the town towards Winterfell. He looked back amidst the shouting and saw more lines of them stretching for miles back. There had to have been hundreds, maybe thousands of them.
Arya Stark smiled as she watched the young boy run, for he reminded her so much of her younger brother Bran and how excited they both were as children all those years ago when King Robert came to Winterfell to ask their father, Eddard Stark to be his Hand. Oh how their lives were so much simpler back then with their family still intact. She stood at the front of the crowd for she longed to see her half-brother, Jon Snow, again after so many years. The sooner she saw him, the better. Her sister Sansa had told her how they had reconnected and joined forces to defeat the monstrous Boltons at the Battle of the Bastards and reclaimed Winterfell in the name of the Starks. She had missed him when she returned to Winterfell because he had travelled south to meet with Daenerys Targaryen, the last surviving member of the Targaryen dynasty, the dragon queen.
Sure enough, nestled in between the Unsullied soldiers were Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen on horseback side by side. They were the picture of what a powerful couple should be. Daenerys glanced at Jon before keeping her eyes on the road ahead. As surprised as Arya was to see Jon riding right next to Daenerys Targaryen, she was relieved just to see him again, for Sansa had told her that members of the Night's Watch had stabbed him and left him for dead. Yet Jon rode right past her.
Arya was shocked that Jon didn't recognize her right away, but she was even more shocked to see the Hound, Sandor Clegane, riding close behind them. She had abandoned him long ago after a brutal fight with Brienne of Tarth and she had long believed he had died from his injuries. She remembered how much she had hated him for killing her friend Mycah, the butcher's son, on the Kingsroad on the way to King's Landing. Yet, he had taken care of her and kept her safe from ruffians. She was so sure that she would kill him herself, yet when the time came, all she could do was take his money and run. What was he doing here in Winterfell? What would happen between the two of them next?
Yet riding behind the Hound was another surprise for Arya-Gendry. A simple armor's apprentice, he had befriended her as she escaped King's Landing after the execution of her father. He was the only one smart enough to figure out that she was a girl and he quickly earned her trust by keeping her identity a secret. Together, they had escaped Harrenhal and on the way through the Riverlands, Thoros of Myr and Beric Dondarrion had sold him to the Red Woman. She was happy to see that he was alive as well. He had cut his dark hair and had gotten taller and more muscular. Not that she was staring or anything like that.
Riding in a cart behind Gendry was Tyrion Lannister, the Hand of the Queen, and Varys, the former Master of Whispers. "You should consider yourself lucky, you know?" the Imp asked his bald friend. Varys looked at him. "At least you balls won't freeze off," Tyrion joked about his gelding friend.
"You take great offense to torture but love telling eunuch jokes. Why is that?" Varys asked, offended.
"Because I have balls and you don't," Tyrion answered. Behind the cart rode Grey Worm, Commander of the Unsullied and Missandei, advisor and interpreter for Daenerys Targaryen. They were as far north as they had even been. Getting used to the cold was one thing, but they had never seen so many people with such fair complexions. And it was clear that these Northerners had never seen people with such dark complexions as well. To the Northerners, everyone was an outsider, an intruder, especially Daenerys, the daughter of the Mad King who had killed two Starks in one day.
"I warned you, Northerners don't much trust outsiders," Jon said to Daenerys. But Daenerys had other plans for getting the North on her side. In the distance was a set of screeching roars. Everyone looked up to see Daenerys's two dragons, Drogon and Rhaegal, flying overhead. The Northerners, long believing that Dragons were extinct, ran and screamed at the sight of the dragons. Arya, having read many impressive stories about dragons and their riders, smiled in awe. Daenerys smiled at the fear her children instilled in the commoners. She sat up straight, just as a true queen would. The dragons soared over the towers of Winterfell to the shock of Sansa Stark. She had heard stories about Daenerys and her dragons, but she never expected she would actually see dragons in the North. How was she supposed to greet this dragon queen, to whom Jon had bent the knee and pledged the support of the North to without consulting her first? What would the arrival of Daenerys and her dragons mean for Winterfell and the North?
Finally, following the banner men, Jon and Daenerys arrived in the great castle of Winterfell. Jon quickly got off his horse and ran to his smiling half-siblings, Bran and Sansa. Until he got a note from Sansa, he believed that Bran and Arya were dead. Jon embraced Bran and kissed him on the forehead. "Look at you. You're a man," Jon said.
"Almost," Bran answered. Jon seemed confused as to what that might mean. He looked up to Sansa and hugged her. Sansa kept her eyes on Daenerys, who was standing next to Ser Jorah Mormont.
"Where's Arya?" Jon asked.
"Lurking somewhere," Sansa answered. Jon looked toward the dragon queen and she walked over to him and Sansa.
"Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen," Jon introduced her to the Northern lords and ladies. "My sister, Sansa Stark, the Lady of Winterfell."
"Thank you for inviting us into your home, Lady Stark," Daenerys thanked Jon's sister. "The North is as beautiful as your brother claimed, as are you," she continued, trying to win over the sister of the man she loved.
"Winterfell is yours, your grace," Sansa said icily. Daenerys could detect some tension in her voice.
"We don't have time for all this," Bran interrupted. "The Night King has your dragon," he said to Daenerys. "He's one of them now. He resurrected him from the ice lake. He used him to break down the wall. He and his army are marching south as we speak." Everyone now knew that they had to formulate a plan to defeat the Night King and his army of White Walkers quickly.
…...
"As soon as we heard about the Wall, I called all our banners to retreat to Winterfell," Sansa announced in the dining hall of Winterfell to the northern lords and ladies. "Lord Umber," she called. Little Ned Umber stuck out his head from the crowd of northern men. "When can we expect your people to arrive?" she asked.
He stood up and walked toward Sansa. "We need more horses and wagons, if it please, my lady," he said. "And my lord," he said, turning to Jon. "And my queen," he said turning to Daenerys. Clearly, he was unsure where his loyalties were to lie at this moment. "Sorry," he said, confused.
"You'll have as many as we can spare," Sansa said. "Hurry back to Last Hearth and bring your people here," she ordered.
Ned Umber bowed and returned to his seat. "We need to send ravens to the Night's Watch as well." Jon said. "There's no sense in manning the castles anymore. We make our stand here."
"At once, your grace," Maester Wolkan said before heading out of the room.
"Your grace?" a little voice piped up from the crowd. It was none other than young Lyanna Mormont. Although she was just barely over ten years old, she had proven on many occasions to hold her own against powerful men. "But you're not, are you?" she asked as she stood up. Jon knew this moment was coming as soon as he bent the knee to Daenerys. He would have to explain why he pledged the whole North to her cause, especially given her ancestors' tainted history with the North. "You left Winterfell a king and came back a…I'm not sure what you are now. A lord? Nothing at all?" Jon could hear the other Northern lords muttering in agreement with her.
"It's not important," Jon tried to answer her.
"Not important?" Lyanna Mormont asked. "We named you King in the North." Now they were all shouting in agreement. Jon tired to look to Sansa for comfort, but all he got was a cold glance. He knew that even she was disappointed with his decision.
"You did, my lady," Jon continued. "It was the honor of my life. I'll always be grateful for your faith. But when I left Winterfell, I told you we will need allies or we will die," he said as he stood up and Lyanna sat down. "And I have brought those allies home to fight alongside us. I had a choice: to keep my crown or protect the North. And I chose the North." But this did nothing to appease the crowd.
Tyrion Lannister stood up and walked in front of the table where Jon, Daenerys, and Sansa sat. "If anyone survives the war to come, we'll have Jon Snow to thank. He risked his life to show us the threat is real. Thanks to his courage, we have the greatest army the world has ever seen. We have brought two full-grown dragons. We have Dothraki and Unsullied soldiers from Meereen. And soon the Lannister army will ride north to join our cause." He said that last part with hesitation, for he himself doubted the truth in his sister's promise. This only worsened the crowd's reaction. If there was one family that had caused the Starks more trouble than the Targaryens, it was the Lannisters. Thanks to their conniving nature, Lord Eddard Stark and his lady Catelyn were dead, along with the previous King in the North, Robb Stark.
The person who seemed the most surprised by this was Sansa. She knew well that Cersei would never send her troops north unless it was to eliminate the rest of her family. She knew that Cersei would never do anything if there weren't anything for herself in return. She would never risk her life or her troops to help anyone, lest of all people she hated, which was pretty much everyone. "I know, I know, our people haven't been friends in the past," Tyrion continued. "But we must fight together now, or die."
"May I ask, how are we meant to feed the greatest army the world has ever seen?" Sansa asked her ex-husband. "While I ensured our stores would last through winter, I didn't account for Dothraki, Unsullied, and two full-grown dragons. What do dragons eat anyway?" Since no one had seen a dragon in many years, it was a fair question.
"Whatever they want," Daenerys coldly answered. Sansa and Daenerys turned their stares toward each other menacingly. This was definitely going to be a long winter for everyone involved.
…
One by one, horses carrying wagonloads of dragonglass arrived at Winterfell where it would be forged into weapons and given to everyone there. As a former armor's apprentice, Gendry was in charge of mining the dragonglass. "Okay, careful, let's get every last bit of it," he said as he climbed into a wagon filled with dragonglass. "Are these the last of the wagons?" he asked. As he had accompanied Jon Snow north of the Wall to find a wight to show Cersei, he had seen how large the Night King's army was and that the more dragonglass they had, the better.
Up on the balcony, Tyrion noticed his ex-wife talking to Yohn Royce. "My lord, my lady," he greeted as he approached them. Sansa glanced at Yohn Royce, urging him to leave the two of them alone,"
"My lady, " Yohn Royce said as he headed out. Now the two of them were alone.
"The Lady of Winterfell," Tyrion said as he walked closer to her. "Has a nice ring to it."
"So does Hand of the Queen, depending on the queen, I suppose" Sansa replied.
"Last time we spoke was at Joffrey's wedding. Miserable affair," he said, remembering how his horrible nephew had humiliated him and how the event resulted in his own arrest, trial, and exile.
"It had its moments," Sansa said, trying to cheer him up. They both knew how horrible Joffrey was. Tyrion knew that nothing more than Joffrey's death, except maybe Cersei's death, would bring Sansa joy and peace at last.
"Apologies for leaving like that," Sansa said. If she had stayed, she too would have been arrested, tried, and executed for Joffrey's death. After all, she was the one who had suffered the most under him. Who else would have had a better motive to kill him?
"Yes, it was a bit hard to explain why my wife fled moments after the king's murder."
"We both survived," Sansa said comfortingly once again.
"So many underestimated you. Most of them are dead now," Tyrion replied. Changing the subject, he continued. "I'm sure you weren't thrilled to hear the Lannister army is marching north. You have every right to be fearful of my sister. No one fears her more than I do but I promise you-"
"Cersei told you her army was coming north to fight for you?" Sansa interrupted.
"She did," Tyrion answered.
"You believed her?" Sansa asked again.
"She has something to live for now. I believe she wants to survive," Tyrion answered. What could that mean? All Cersei ever cared about was herself, her power, and her children. Could Cersei be pregnant again, Sansa wondered.
"I used to think you were the cleverest man alive," Sansa said before exiting. Tyrion felt the sting in her statement. Deep down, he knew his sister wasn't coming. But he had made her a deal in exchange for her promise. But it was essential that no one, especially not Daenerys found out what that deal was. If it was discovered, he could be imprisoned or executed by his queen. Tyrion looked down and saw Sansa's younger brother Bran looking up at them. Clearly he had heard their exchange. Who knows what else the young boy was thinking? Did he know that Cersei wasn't coming? Did he know about the promise Tyrion made to his sister? Whatever the case may be, Tyrion knew that he was back in the dangerous political climate of Westeros.
…
Jon stood at the weirwood tree in the Godswood. His father used to come here often to pray, to think, or probably just to be away from everyone for a few moments. But Jon was not alone now.
"You used to be taller," a voice surprised him. Jon turned around to see Arya standing a few feet away from him.
"How did you sneak up on me?" he asked.
"How did you survive a knife through the heart?" she asked in return after hearing Sansa's story.
"I didn't," he answered. "The Red Woman brought me back to life." Arya smiled and ran to her brother's arms. He picked her up and held her tightly, just like he had the last time they saw each other, when she was leaving for King's Landing. As much as he loved all of his half-siblings, Arya was the one he felt closest to. Others never understood them or cast them aside, but they both knew where they stood in the world around them. When he put her down, he noticed that she still had the goodbye present he gave her.
"You've still got it?"
Arya pulled out her sword and held it in her hands. "Needle." Jon held his hands underneath hers.
"Have you ever used it?" He asked.
"Once or twice," she answered. Jon knew that she had used it a lot more than one or twice by the tone of her voice. She put her sword back in its holder and he pulled out his own sword, Longclaw, given to him by Lord Commander Jeor Mormont at the Wall. He placed it in her hands.
"Valyrian steel," she remarked, impressed.
"Jealous?" He asked.
Arya chuckled. "Too heavy for me." She handed it back to Jon and he put it back in his holder.
Jon then put his hand on Arya's shoulder and asked, "Where were you before? I could have used your help with Sansa."
"Sansa doesn't like your queen, does she?" Arys replied.
"Sansa thinks she's smarter than everyone," Jon remarked.
"She's the smartest person I've ever met," Arya told Jon. After all, if it weren't for Sansa, the Starks would not have won Winterfell back from the Boltons. They would not have stored enough food to feed everyone throughout the winter.
"Now you're defending her? You?" Jon chuckled. He remembered how different Arya and Sansa were as children. They could never agree on anything. Whenever Sansa wanted to sew and knit, Arya wanted to fight in the mud with her brothers. Sansa always made them both feel like outsiders, modeling the behavior of her mother, Lady Catelyn Stark.
"I'm defending our family. So is she," Arya said.
"I'm her family too," Jon said, for he knew Sansa did not agree with his decisions. Arya hugged Jon again.
"Don't forget that," she said. They both closed their eyes and held each other tight.
…
Meanwhile, back in King's Landing, Qyburn approached Queen Cersei, who was watching the sea with her Kingsguard. "Your grace, I am afraid I bring terrible news. The dead have broken through the Wall.
"Good," Cersei smirked as she turned and walked away.
Euron Greyjoy was onboard his ship with a special delivery for Queen Cersei. He had brought her the Golden Company from Essos to help her fight her enemies after winter had come and gone and they would try to take the Ion Throne from her. Also onboard was his captive niece, Yara Greyjoy, who was tied to a pole below deck.
"Why don't you just get it over with and kill me?" a dismayed Yara asked her uncle.
"But we're family. The last the Greyjoys left. The last ones with balls, anyway," Euron laughed as he sat down beside his niece. "If I kill you, who can I talk to?" Yara remained silent. "I've got a crew full of mutes. It gets lonely at sea."
"Are we in King's Landing?" Yara asked. Euron smiled and offered her some of his ale, but she refused. "You picked the losing side," she said.
Then I'll sail the Iron Fleet somewhere else," Euron said. Then he sharply got up and into Yara's face. "But first I'm going to fuck the queen." He walked out and left his niece by herself once again.
Euron brought Harry Strickland, captain of the Golden Company, with him to meet with Cersei.
"20,000 men, is it?" Cersei asked.
"Yes, your grace," Harry answered. "A few died in transit."
"They cheated at dice," Euron explained. "Or maybe I cheated. Someone cheated. They weren't good fighters. You won't miss them."
"Horses?" Cersei asked.
"2,000," Harry answered.
"Elephants?"
"No elephants, your grace."
"That's disappointing. I was told the Golden Company had elephants. I wanted those elephants," Cersei said menacingly.
"They are excellent beasts, your grace, but not well-suited to long sea voyages," Harry explained.
"In any event, you are most welcome here in King's Landing, Captain Strickland," Cersei ensured.
"We look forward to fighting on your behalf, your grace," Harry replied. He bowed his head and left the room.
"Am I most welcome here?" asked Euron.
"You are a true friend of the crown and an honored guest," Cersei answered.
"Good. As a true friend and honored guest," Euron began. He started to make his way toward the Iron Throne, but was stopped by the Mountain. "I was hoping we could talk in private," he whispered.
"After the war. That was our agreement," Cersei reminded him.
"Wars sometimes last years," Euron whispered.
"You want a whore, you buy one. You want a queen, earn her," Cersei stated. She got up, turned around, and started to walk away.
"How?" Euron asked. "I've given her justice, an army, and the Iron Fleet. Yet, she gives me no sign of affection. My heart is nearly broken," Euron complained.
Cersei turned around to face him again. "You're insolent. I've executed men for less."
"They were lesser men."
Cersei walked off to the side, as if to consider her options for a moment. After all, this man had brought her the women who had murdered her daughter and now their bodies were rotting in her prison. He had brought her his enormous army and that of the Golden Company. It was said that the Golden Company had never broken a contract, so she didn't have to worry about money or loyalty distracting them from their task at hand-killing her enemies. Maybe he did deserve something in return after all. Maybe they would never have a chance to be together again if winter came, followed by the army of the dead. She then turned around and smiled at Euron, urging him to come along with her. Euron smiled and followed, giggling in the cold, dead face of the Mountain as he passed him.
After their encounter, Euron asked, "So how do I compare to the Fat King?"
"You're insulting my late husband."
"Are you offended?" he asked.
"Robert had a different whore every night, yet he still didn't know his way around a woman's body," Cersei answered, sipping wine from a glass.
"And the Kingslayer?"
"You enjoy risking your neck, don't you?" Cersei asked. As powerful as Euron was, no one could compare to Jaime, her twin brother, the father of her children, the only man she truly loved.
"Life is boring," was Euron's reply.
"You're not boring. I'll give you that." Euron walked up to her.
"Do I please the queen?" he asked.
"You may be the most arrogant man I've ever met. I like that," Cersei said.
"Well I have to be arrogant. I'm going to be a god. And so are you. Together, we will become immortal and outlive all our enemies. Together, we will be all-powerful. But as of right now, I'm going to put a prince in your belly."
Euron headed back toward the bed. Cersei had a few more sips from her glass of wine and teared up at the mention of children. Tyrion had promised the safety of her and her child. But Cersei had lost the child shortly after Jaime had left her. It was his fault, she thought to herself. And she was getting far too old to conceive and bear another child. She wouldn't dare tell Tyrion or Jaime about her miscarriage, so now what was she to do?
