I'm sorry this is late, but I did say last week I've got a lot of personal things going on so I'm sure you'll all forgive me. This will be the last chapter before the new year though, so I hope you all enjoy it.

This is mostly a show fic, but I will be using book Alys Karstark when it comes to her age and place in the family tree, though I will use her show appearance for personal ease.

This story marks the beginning of my Season 3 timeline. The year will change part way through because I didn't feel the first scene fit in an already bloated chapter last time around.

I own nothing but the OC's.

As the daylight brought about a brand-new day, it also brought about a brand-new issue to solve. With the South secured, either willingly or unwillingly, Luke's attention was now firmly looking northwards. That is why as soon as he had broken his fast and trained for an hour, he made his way back to the dungeon tower with Ser Barristan and Ser Symon guarding him. Sansa Stark had been placed in the comfortable rooms for the highborn prisoners, only a few doors down from the cell that Tywin Lannister himself had darkened with his presence. Chains let him inside the door, and for the first time he locked eyes with a Stark.

She was beautiful. So tall for her age of 15 that she looked around three years older. She was standing there with her hands crossed by her lap glaring at Luke, though he could also tell that she was doing the same as he was in examining the person stood opposite.

"My Lady." Luke said calmly. "I am sorry for having you placed here, you must have been through a terrible ordeal."

"I thought I was free." Sansa said bitterly. "But then Ser Ronnet came and took me prisoner again. At least last time I had some form of freedom around the castle."

"And you shall do again." Luke insisted. "I am not Joffrey, I will not be cruel for cruelty's sake. I have heard about your trials whilst within the city My Lady and I am truly sorry."

Sansa glared at him with deep blue eyes. "Then why am I here?" She insisted, obviously feeling brave.

Luke smiled and moved over to her desk to pull out a chair, and he sat down on the seat backwards, so his arms were leaning on the back of the seat. "Your brother went to war and crowned himself King to break away from the Iron Throne. Now admittedly that was because of Joffrey, but now I rule the Iron Throne, and now it is me that he is in direct rebellion against. I would see that end."

"My brother is a traitor." Her walls had come up.

"He did what your Father did before him, rose in rebellion against a tyrant King." Luke shrugged. "My only issue will be if he continues his wars against the Iron Throne knowing that he is no longer rebelling against Joffrey Waters. Which is why I want you to write to him."

Sansa froze. "I wrote him a letter once before." She said quietly. "Then he went to war."

Luke nodded, imagining that in that scenario it wouldn't have actually been her letter. "I just want you to be honest to him. Tell him that you are unharmed under my rule, explain to him that Joffrey, Tywin and Cersei are dead by my hand, implore him to make peace. Once he bends the knee to me, then you can go home."

Sansa thought for a moment. "Can you do something for me?" She asked. Luke nodded. "Can you find out where they buried Lady, she was my Direwolf, and she died trying to protect me from the Lannisters after my Father… after he got arrested." She had tears welling in her eyes.

Luke nodded again. "I will do my best."

"Oh, Arya and Jeyne!" Sansa exclaimed, wiping her eyes. "I haven't seen either of them since then. Arya is my sister and Jeyne… she was my friend and her Father was killed. I think she was too, but I didn't see her head on the Traitor's Walk…"

The pain in the girls eyes made Luke wince at the thought of some of the atrocities she had likely faced. "I will find out what happened to all of your Father's household, Lady Sansa, after you write your letter."

She didn't look overly happy, but she nodded all the same. "Very well, thank you, Your Grace." She curtseyed.

"Then we can see at getting you more… suitable… accommodations." He looked around at the cell before reaching into his doublet and pulling out a small ink bottle, a quill, and some parchment. "Chains will come and check on you at high noon, hand it to him when you are finished."

The King got back to his feet and pushed the chair back under the desk before walking over to the door, knocking twice on the wood for it to be opened. As he left the Stark girl in the cell he felt positive, and with any luck the entire realm would be at peace sooner than he had planned for.

302 AC

As Robb Stark put the finishing touches to his wedding outfit, he sighed as he looked at his reflection. He was a Northerner, and even with the few embellishments on his cloak and his belt, he felt far too bejewelled. He didn't even really want to be here, marrying a woman he had never met whilst the Ironborn ravaged his west coast. He was a Stark of Winterfell though, and he would wed and bed the girl.

A knock on the door brought him away from his thoughts, and in stepped his Great-Uncle. "Ser Brynden." Robb greeted.

"Your Grace. A letter has arrived from Riverrun, though the seal… it's from King's Landing." The Blackfish explained.

Robb looked at the elder man questioningly, taking the letter and staring at the imprint of the red dragon seal. "Targaryen." He whispered, snapping open the wax and unfurling the letter. "Sansa's hand." He was filled with dread, the last time he had opened a letter from Sansa he had called the banners, though this time there were no grand demands of him, only Sansa explaining herself and apologising, before it went on to talk about the current events in King's Landing. "Well, it seems the South has a new King. Tywin Lannister and Joffrey are dead." He didn't know what to feel. On the one hand he felt relief that his Father had been avenged, but there was a part of him that felt angry that he hadn't been the one to swing the blade. Robb held the letter out so that the Blackfish could read it too. "All our enemies in the South are dead."

"No." The Blackfish said quickly. "Everybody gathered in the Twins currently fought against the Mad King, even the Frey's eventually. Until we know how this one will react to us, we cannot turn our backs completely." He gestured to the letter. "Your sister is being well treated now, unlike before, but what happens to her if you refuse to bend the knee to him?"

That thought made Robb's skin crawl. "We need her back, she has been a hostage for far too long." He then sighed again. "But I am needed in the North, I cannot go to King's Landing." He then had a thought and grabbed the letter again, finding a passage he had unintentionally skipped over as Sansa had introduced the letter with her pleasantries. "Arya hasn't been seen in a year."

The Blackfish even looked worried at that. "We'd know if she was dead." He insisted.

"If she isn't dead, nor is she a prisoner, then where is she?" Robb asked frustrated. He threw the letter on his bed and ran his hand through his curls. "This is the wrong time for a wedding."

"Do not insult Walder Frey this close to the wedding." The Blackfish warned. "As my brother told you, wed her and bed her, and then tomorrow we shall focus on the issues of war and ruling."

Robb nodded, wishing for a moment that his Mother was there and hadn't betrayed him. She was still in Riverrun looking after Lord Hoster, whilst her sworn sword Brienne was now one of Robb's personal bodyguards. Robb had tried to dismiss the girl not being happy at her travelling in the same retinue as Jaime Lannister was being dragged Northwards in, but she was both stubborn and an excellent warrior, so she stuck.

Another knock on the door followed, and Robb almost laughed at his thoughts as the Tarth woman was the one to poke her head through the door. "Forgive me, Your Grace, but Lord Walder has sent a summons, the ceremony will soon start."

Robb grimaced and looked back at his reflection. He knew he looked the part, but he still felt like a mummer. "Get some wine down you and enjoy yourself, Your Grace." The Blackfish insisted. "We can stress again tomorrow."

Easier said than done, Robb thought, but he was a Stark of Winterfell, and he would do his part no matter how much he disliked it.

As the days turned into weeks, King's Landing soon began to settle into the new regime. The Throne Room had been stripped of any Baratheon decorations and Luke had insisted on the pillars being painted black with gold and red vines falling down them, whilst behind the Iron Throne the new windows had been installed, with the stained glass now showing the dragons from history all surrounding a crimson Targaryen sigil. All that was left to do was to bring the dragon skulls back up, but the room certainly felt more Targaryen.

The Small Council room was completed too, once again the tapestries of Robert Baratheon had been removed and instead paintings and pictures of past Targaryen kings lined the walls, whilst the gold and black Baratheon seats had been burned and replaced by the Targaryen style of black and red.

Even the Tower of the Hand was changed, as Jon made it his own. The iron and steel Lannister lions had been smelted down into arrow heads and metal red griffins were being carved out, the Red Keep was truly undergoing the changes needed to rid the castle of what had come before.

Today however, as Luke sat atop the Iron Throne, the redecoration of the castle was the last thing on his mind. Word had reached them within the past hour of a Tyrell party approaching from the Southern Kingsroad, and Luke would finally be meeting his betrothed. He was oddly nervous, though he would never show that publicly, and his thoughts went back to Valarra. It had been a strange romance with the Lyseni beauty it was true, one born of captivity and assault, but it had very quickly blossomed into fierce love and the pain of her loss still ached to this day.

"Ser Loras Tyrell. Lady Margaery Tyrell. Lady Olenna Tyrell…" The herald announced as the door opened before more and more names were read out as Margaery entered the Throne Room with her brother and what looked like an entire retinue of Ladies and sworn swords. Luke had been told to wait on the Iron Throne for the Tyrell's to come to him, and so despite his urge to rise and to walk down to greet his future wife, he stayed where he was, his hands gripping the pommels on the arms of the Iron Throne. He examined her however, and the first thing that he noticed was just how low cut her dress was, clearly meant to show off her womanly features. It was a clever gown too, a dark green material that could almost pass for black, but the detail around her breasts and stomach were golden flowers. Then Luke looked up at her face, and once more he found the woman he was staring at to be beautiful, though while Sansa Stark a few weeks back had looked sad and innocent, Margaery Tyrell was walking proudly, her brown eyes staring into his own intently and her soft brunette curls falling down her back. She looked the part of a Queen for sure, though when he wasn't admiring the Tyrell's looks, he was thinking on how she evidently thought she knew how to play him.

As the group reached their marks, the majority of them fell to one knee. The only exception there was Lady Olenna, who looked like if she went down she wouldn't manage to get back up again. "Rise, please." Luke insisted, his eyes remaining on his future wife. "I welcome each and every one of you to King's Landing. Fine rooms have been prepared for each of you in the Maidenvault and my guards will escort you momentarily."

Luke then looked at Loras Tyrell, giving him the signal to step forwards. "Your Grace." The knight bowed his head. "Allow me to introduce my sister, Lady Margaery."

Margaery took a step forwards too and curtseyed formally. "Your Grace."

"My Lady." Luke bowed his head towards her. "The tales of your beauty barely do you justice."

Margaery gave a wry smile. "I too have heard tales, Your Grace. Your courage and bravery in the face of battle are well known to me and I have come to love you from afar."

That was bullshit, Luke immediately thought, and as he could see almost a full court in his periphery vision he knew he wasn't going to get a truly honest answer from the woman just yet. "Let us hope that I don't disappoint." He smiled. "If you would stay a while, My Lady, I would speak with you properly. Away from court."

He could hear the whispers about impropriety, but Luke didn't care. He just watched as Margaery didn't move a muscle as they continued to stare into one another's eyes, and after a moment she simply nodded. "As you wish, Your Grace."

"Court is dismissed." Luke announced, rising to his feet. "Ser Barristan, you stay. Lady Margaery, your sworn sword may stay as well. Everybody else if you would like to join me in the Queen's Ballroom at dusk, a feast in celebration of our upcoming nuptials shall be held." It took a while for the hall to empty out, especially the Tyrell party who were unsure of what was happening, but eventually the massive Throne Room was only filled by Luke, Barristan, Margaery and her personal guard, some distant Tyrell cousin according to Loras. One the great doors had shut, Luke relaxed slightly and made his way down the few steps. "Now we can speak openly, My Lady, without the need for the pomp of court."

Margaery looked surprised but nodded her head. "As you wish." She repeated.

And then, Luke didn't know what he wanted to say. After a moment of silence he walked over to stand next to the Tyrell, both looking up at the Iron Throne. "This was never meant for us." He said quietly. "The plan made for us were that Viserys would sit the Throne with a Dornish wife, and we would likely end up on Dragonstone, or some other keep."

"A plan my Father would have hated." Margaery chuckled. "He always saw me as a Queen, and our alliance likely would be long dead had your brother still lived, or your wife."

Luke's eyes snapped towards hers, anger at the mention of both Viserys and Valarra beginning to bubble. "Did you love Renly?" He asked her.

"No." Margaery admitted. "He was a means to make me Queen, and he died before he even had a chance to consummate."

"I suppose I am the same to you, though I don't plan on dying before consummating our union." Luke smirked. "I'm surprised, you're brutally honest, My Lady."

Margaery chuckled. "Some men require flattery. Renly was one of those, he liked to feel loved. Some men require wits and honesty. I don't know you well, Your Grace, but I feel like I know enough about you to know that you are the latter sort of man."

She was right. "Then I shall be honest back. I am attracted to you, I can see myself enjoying your company and perhaps even growing feelings for you. But I had all of that and a child with Valarra and she was ripped from me causing a wound that still hasn't truly healed. So if you would like us to be friends as well as wed, you should take care with how you mention her, My Lady."

To her credit, Margaery bowed her head. "My apologies, Your Grace. I knew of your feelings, why else would a Targaryen marry someone the world saw as his bed slave. She must have been a fine woman and I hope I can live up to her and that one day we can share a connection like that. You may be a means to make me a Queen in my Father's eyes, but I do not want to be in a marriage like the last King and Queen."

"No, we wouldn't want that." Luke admitted. "Then simply be yourself, do not try and be Valarra." Luke smiled. "Now, let us start again."

Margaery also smiled. "I would like that."

He offered her his arm, which she graciously took before Luke began leading Margaery out of the Throne Room as he escorted her to the Maidenvault. "Now, tell me more about you…"

Robb awoke the morning after his wedding so early that Roslin was still sleeping beside him. He had done his part and consummated the marriage, but even filled with wine and with a woman at his side his thoughts were being pulled both to Winterfell and King's Landing. Being sure not to wake his new wife, Robb quickly dressed and made his way outside towards his camp, summoning his war council.

It took two hours before the last of the Northern Lords arrived within the tent, as Greatjon Umber arrived with a firm grin on his lips as he saw the Stark. "Apologies for my lateness, Your Grace." The Lord of Last Hearth bowed before he looked over at Stevron Frey and grinned even wider.

Before Robb could say a word, Lord Karstark snorted. "You best get the Maesters to check you for lice, Jon, bedding that Frey whore."

Stevron Frey was growing redder. "Have a care, Lord Karstark…"

Robb remembered seeing the Greatjon dancing with his wife's notoriously promiscuous niece and rolled his eyes, but he interjected before Rickard Karstark decided to do something stupid. "It's good to see matters of war come after sticking your prick in Amerei Frey, Lord Umber, but now you are here perhaps we could get on."

"As you say." The Greatjon bowed his head.

"We've had scout reports." Robb explained. "Moat Cailin has fallen to the Ironborn."

The Northerners at the table all grew a deathly pale white at the thought, though the Riverlanders didn't look too concerned. It was Jonos Bracken that spoke up. "Then we take it back from them."

"You dolt." Tytos Blackwood groaned, adorned in his thick raven feather cloak. "Moat Cailin has never fallen."

"It just has!" Jonos Bracken exclaimed angrily.

"From the North." Robb pointed out loudly, again stopping any unpleasantness from starting. "It has never been taken from the South, but we can't easily get Northwards without having access to the Moat. The Neck is far too treacherous, whilst trying to break their blockade of the Fever River with just the ships of Lord Mallister will be impossible."

He looked to the Blackfish to continue, and thankfully the elder Tully did exactly that. "And then, there's the news from the South. King's Landing has been taken by Lucerys Targaryen."

"We stayed out of that conflict while in the West and the result is now clear." Robb continued. "The Lannisters are broken, and the South is united behind this Targaryen King. He will now look to us to bend the knee."

"Bugger that." Lord Umber laughed. "We named you King, not some foreign cunt."

"Do not dismiss him easily, Lord Umber." Lord Bracken insisted. "He has the sword and the crown for certain, and rumours from that way are that he also has Dragons."

The Greatjon began to snarl and squared up to the Bracken Lord. "If you mean to mock me with tales of lunacy, then I may just have to have words outside His Grace's presence."

"There will be none of that." Robb explained. "Our pressing concern is getting back into the North. If we have to besiege Moat Cailin then we will." He thought for a moment. "We must split. The Riverland forces that joined me Northwards should join up with Lord Edmure. Harrenhal must be ours before Lucerys Targaryen has a chance to settle in his new role." He looked at the gathered Riverlanders, with mainly the most northern of them in attendance. "Ser Stevron, you have command. Make haste."

Both Bracken and Blackwood looked outraged, but they wouldn't say anything now that Robb had married a Frey. "We shall leave at dawn tomorrow, Your Grace." Ser Stevron bowed.

"Make it sooner, if you can." Robb instructed, dismissing all of the Riverlanders except his great-uncle. Once they had all gone he turned back to the map placed in front of him. "I need to get a raven to Winterfell to gather more men. This may take time, but a pincer attack may work."

"By the time the rest of us gather, it could be months." Ser Wendel Manderly grimaced.

"What other choice do we have?" Rickard Karstark asked.

Robb shook his head. "None that I can see. I'll write the bird for Bran to…" He trailed off as a commotion sounded outside. Huffing, he moved around the table and swiped the tent flap open to see a young boy squirming to get around Brienne at the door. "What is the meaning of this?" He snapped.

"Apologies, Your Grace." Brienne strained to hold onto the boy. "This one… insisted on seeing you."

"You have some nerve, boy." Robb said coldly. "Release him, let him speak."

Brienne paused for a brief moment before doing as she was told, and the boy shook himself down and looked up at Robb and held out a letter. "I've a message for you, milord."

"Your Grace." Brienne corrected.

"It's fine." Robb waved off. He noticed that the seal was that of House Manderly and held his hand out to take the parchment. "Thank you, but next time you must listen to Brienne." The boy nodded. "Off you go." He waited for the youngster to scarper away before snapping the seal and reading the words, his face draining in dread. Without another word to Brienne, Robb re-entered the tent. "Pack up the camp and make preparations to move." He ordered. "We need to take Moat Cailin back urgently."

"What's happened?" The Blackfish asked.

"Winterfell has fallen." Robb explained, his hands shaking in rage. "The Ironborn… Theon." He took a deep breath. "But that's not all, ships have been sighted off of our eastern coast as well."

"Ironborn in the East?" Ser Wendel asked, concerned.

"No." Robb's whisper was harsh and through gritted teeth. "The sails bare the sigil of House Baratheon."

Desperation didn't suit Stannis Baratheon, but that was the feeling he had as he stood on the opposite side of a flaming ditch to his Red Priestess, Melisandre dressed in his polished armour. He had awoken after the battle with a strapped right arm and a throbbing headache to learn that Imry Florent had called a retreat against his wishes, a decision which had earned the Reachman a flogging and had left Stannis in a mess. With Westeros closed to him, Stannis' only other option was to try and pit the Iron Bank against all of his enemies. A plan that had once again spectacularly failed given the Braavosi's admiration of the Targaryen usurper. They had allowed him to resupply and repair however, but it had left Stannis with no idea on how to push forwards.

That was when Melisandre came in again, whispering to the Baratheon of the true threats due to strike his Kingdom's, and so Stannis had sailed Northwards from Braavos across the Shivering Sea and landed on the shores of the Grey Cliffs, before taking Karhold by force, killing the youngest son of Lord Rickard himself in the battle.

That had been three days ago, and after a little time to recover and plan, the rightful King of the Seven Kingdom's found himself out in the light snowfall awaiting the 16-year-old unwed daughter of Lord Rickard to join him at the ditch. Melisandre was calling out prayers to her god, but all Stannis wanted was to get this over with.

His wife's murder and his daughter's abduction had left his position precarious, and so after taking Karhold he knew that his first action needed to be a marriage. Stannis needed a son, so that in the case of his death Storm's End would pass to him instead of to Shireen and the traitor Jon Connington. As he thought on his daughter his heart ached, knowing that he was effectively abandoning her to the cruelty of Lucerys Targaryen, but feeling as if there was no other choice.

"R'hllor." Melisandre sang. "You are the light in our eyes, the fire in our hearts, the heat in our loins. Yours is the sun that warms our days, yours the stars that guard us in the dark of night."

"All praise R'hllor, the Lord of Light!" His religiously converted men called in chorus from behind him.

Melisandre's arms were raised as she preached further. "The night is dark and filled with terrors. Alone we are born and alone we die, but as we walk through this black vale we draw strength from one another, and from you, our lord. Two come forth today to join their lives so they may face this world's darkness together. Fill their hearts with fire, my Lord, so they may walk your shining path hand in hand forever."

The guests chanted some more religious words back, but Stannis had stopped listening to them all. He was simply filled with a grim determination to have this over with quickly, to put a son in the girl waiting to join him momentarily and to march onwards once more. The rest of the Karstark soldiers that had stayed behind had gathered and after Alys Karstark's surrender, they were joining him on the march with their Lady.

"Let them come forth." Melisandre raised her voice, breaking Stannis' internal thoughts. "Who would be joined." Stannis turned and saw Ser Justin Massey and Alys Karstark approaching, her red hair tied up behind her head in a single braid. Her dress was black and could almost be mistaken for a mourning dress if not for the small white suns dotted around the garment. Soon they joined the Baratheon at the flaming ditch, and Melisandre continued. "Who brings this woman to be wed?"

"Ser Justin Massey." Ser Justin announced. "Now comes Alys of House Karstark, a woman grown and flowered, of noble birth and blood." Ser Justin then bowed towards Stannis and retreated back to the wedding guests.

"Who comes forth to claim this woman?" Melisandre asked.

Stannis cleared his throat before answering. "Stannis, of the House Baratheon. Rightful King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdom's and Protector of the Realm."

"King Stannis." Melisandre began. "Will you share your fire with Alys, and warm her when the night is dark and full of terrors?"

He had learned the words the day before and repeated them how he had been told to. "I swear, by the Lord of Light's flames I shall warm her until death."

"Alys, do you swear to share your fire with King Stannis and warm him when the night is dark and full of terrors?"

Alys Karstark faltered, though as Stannis turned to her she gulped and nodded. "I do, until either of us departs this world."

It was said bitterly, but the important thing was that it was said, and so Stannis returned his gaze to Melisandre as the Red Priestess continued. "Then come to me and be as one." Melisandre beckoned, and as she did so the flames in the ditch roared upwards. Stannis quickly grabbed Alys Karstark's hand, before they both jumped over the ditch.

"Two went into the flames!" Melisandre called. "One emerges. What fire joins, none may put asunder."

The guests repeated the phrase, but Stannis was more concerned with finishing the ceremony. He was handed a bridal cloak depicting his new sigil by Ser Clayton Suggs, and quickly unclasped her maiden Karstark cloak to wrap her in his own colours. That was the last act of the ceremony, and Stannis took Alys by the hand once more and led her inside Karhold, where a brief feast lay waiting before the bedding ceremony, where Stannis would hopefully put a son inside of his new wife and some of the worries about the future could be put to rest.

With the Lannister regime truly expunged and King's Landing truly settling into the Targaryen rule, the talk of the Red Keep had very quickly turned to looking towards the future. Luke had left the majority of his own wedding planning to Margaery and her grandmother, but he had been vital in seeing that two of his closest allies benefitted from their loyalty to him in arranging the betrothal between Ronnet Connington's younger sister and the heir to Driftmark Monterys Velaryon. The wedding wouldn't happen for a good few years considering the ages of the two children, but it was a match that Luke was happy with.

The final Kingsguard member had also been picked, with the middle Connington sibling, Raymund, being knighted by Luke himself before Ser Barristan handed him the White Cloak. With appointments and titles being confirmed, the Small Council had begun to focus on securing the final Kingdom's that currently had not sworn to Luke.

"Robb Stark is currently at the Twins, securing his marriage to a daughter of Walder Frey and preparing to fight off the Ironborn in the North." Varys explained. "Whilst the Riverland forces who had once been disbanded in order to defend their own lands have largely united once more."

"They're preparing for further war." Jon Connington grimaced. "I knew that the matter of the North wouldn't be settled peacefully. You cannot trust any of the Usurper's dogs…"

"The only dog as you call them is lying deathly ill in his bed." Luke cut Jon off. "Despite my… rashness at Rosby, I will not blame the sons for the crimes of their Father's, lest I be judged as a hypocrite whenever I protest against my Father." He turned to Varys. "Is there any notion that they mean to attack us?"

Varys shook his head. "None, Your Grace. I believe the gathering of the banners to be a proactive move of defence."

"Then as far as I am concerned the dialogue with Robb Stark is still open." Luke explained. "Until I hear from him, I will not commit to a prolonging of war."

Jon scowled. "You cannot trust him, Your Grace."

"Perhaps not, but I will still aim for peace until I know either way." Luke insisted.

Jon didn't look happy, but he nodded the once. "Then we should be proactive ourselves. There are still thousands of Lannister men sat in Harrenhal. We should take it and give ourselves both a foothold in the Riverlands and a stronger position to negotiate."

Luke gave it some thought, but he could already see some agreement from the more martial council members. "The Golden Company are needed within the city, how many of your men are ready and able to march?" He was looking at Jon, Mace and Oberyn. The numbers from the three led to a total of 15,000 ready and willing to march once more. "I will need a few days to prepare, but 15,000 should be enough to rid the castle of broken Lannisters…"

"Your Grace, you are needed here." Jon countered. "We are still in the infancy of your reign, we cannot have you sauntering off every time an issue elsewhere comes up, especially before you are married. Let one of your loyal lords handle it."

Luke didn't like it, but any arguments he was about to counter with were lost when Mace Tyrell nodded firmly. "Quite, Lord Hand. I for one would be more concerned about the marriage of the King than the Northerners at this moment."

Sighing, Luke nodded. "Very well, but I want this wedding to happen soon, I cannot be waiting years before dealing with the North one way or another."

"Image is important, and like it or not Lady Margaery has already been wed." Jon stated. "Maiden's Day is only a few months away and we must give the realm a spectacle to show how powerful you are, Your Grace. Hold a large event after making a big deal of Lady Margaery leading the prayers on Maiden's Day, and any whispers of the previous, ill thought marriage will be lost to the winds."

It was an excellent point, a lot could be gained by a positive portrayal in public. "Very well." Luke nodded. "I shall tell Lady Margaery the plan myself."

"Harrenhal still remains however, and it should be taken quickly." Monford Velaryon stated. "If His Grace stays here, and presumably you will as well, Lord Hand, who shall lead?"

That was an interesting question. Luke couldn't really afford to lose one of his Small Council at this early stage of his rule, but thankfully there were a few others that he trusted above all else as well as one man in particular who would show the Riverlands the strength of the new alliances. "Ser Loras will lead." Luke stated. "But Lord Ronnet shall be his second along with an amenable Dornish Lord." He stared pointedly at Oberyn. "Lord Dagos Manwoody, perhaps. Powerful men from all three Kingdoms that shouldn't quarrel too much."

"Lord Dagos is a wise choice." Oberyn nodded.

"Very well then." Luke was happy that it was settled. "I shall speak with them before I meet with Lady Margaery. Is there anything else?" Nobody spoke up. "Then we shall meet again on the morrow." Luke rose to his feet, quickly followed by the others in the Council before he made his way out of the Small Council chamber, closely followed by his ever-present shadow in Ser Barristan.

I don't think that Luke would have ever actually been in the presence of Rickard or Brandon, hence the first-time locking eyes with a Stark comment. That was a fun scene to write actually with some call backs to earlier chapters, where Lady was spared because of Robert being interrupted and finding out something about the Targaryen's.

With Talisa being with the Targaryen's Robb goes through with his betrothal, though of course he isn't happy about it. Though my favourite Robb scene is the meeting with the Lords. So many of them actively dislike each other it's just really fun playing them against one another.

The ceremony part of the Stannis scene is largely borrowed from A Feast for Crows: Jon X. He knows he needs an heir now and his wife died a while back, and a Karstark is probably only second to the Stark's in the North given how related they see themselves.

Finally: Margaery arrives. I hope I did her well, I thought to myself that first she'd try flattery and when she could evidently see that it didn't work, she'd go to showing her cleverness.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I also hope you have an excellent Christmas or other holiday period depending on your beliefs.

Next Time: Daenerys arrives in King's Landing, while Varys makes a move against a potential enemy…

Reviews:

DarylDixon'sLover: Jon Connington will rule as Hand of the King. Jon Snow doesn't make an appearance in the story until Chapter 33.

suryamgangwal63: Jon isn't a part of this story until Chapter 33. Anything I say is spoilers for later down the line.

Guest (Back Door): I'm not sure if that was a thing that happened during this setting…

Warden Commander of America: That's sort of the point, he knows what Aerys was and hates the madness and unjust burnings etc, but at the same time he was still only a kid when Aerys died, and he's grown up in such a militant way that brutality is often the go to. Burnings however were a standard punishment for House Targaryen and Luke used that for the Lannisters to show off is house words.

Guest (Dumb): Because he doesn't actually hold enough of the Westerlands to enforce that without more bloodshed, and he doesn't want a prolonged war. He's crushed the Lannister army and their symbols of strength and power in Kevan, Tywin and Joffrey are dead. Tyrion knows about the dragons and isn't going to rebel because of that.

Suppes1: It's a busy period and with things going on personally I haven't been able to write, thankfully I have enough up until Christmas to keep me going.

Guest (Did not like): There wasn't any begging, Luke, who doesn't want prolonged bloodshed in taking a single region, got played by Tywin, simple as that really. I'm trying to make this as realistic as I can and by simply replacing a multi-millennia lasting dynasty with some Sellsword won't go down well at all. You're also massively understating the complexity of Aegon's Conquest. He left a Hoare alive because he was out of reach and Aegon also had fully grown dragons to enforce himself, not baby ones.

Guest (Tywin): Tywin didn't need to, that conversation ended up how he wanted it to with Tyrion continuing his bloodline. As for Dany, she went mad whilst trying to take the Throne, so given they've won the throne without her there's no need to follow that storyline. She will play an important and divisive role in the future though…