And so here we are at the final episode of the Season 7 timeline… Like the show it's probably one of the least liked by my readers, but I've had an absolute blast with it. Next week will be the start of Season 8, and I'm currently writing out the Long Night chapters which take up the majority of what remains.

Being so close to the end also is making me look in more detail at what comes next. I think I've narrowed it down to 3 stories… my Harry Potter OC, my Tyrell OC (20 Chapters) and my Arryn OC… though that one will include a complete re-write of As High as Honour as there is actually a fair bit I want to change. I think I've put a poll up on my profile, so feel free to vote for which one you prefer. Further descriptions of each story are also in my profile.

I own nothing but the OC's. All actual characters and locations of ASOIAF and Game of Thrones are the property of George R R Martin and/or HBO.

The trenches had been dug and the traps were as ready as they could be. Now the noise in Winterfell had shifted from the hammers of building work to the uniform spear work of the men, women and children would be forced to defend their homes. Jon Snow watched them from atop the ramparts facing towards the Wintertown, his eyes constantly darting North-West where he knew the Lonely Hills were located in the distance. Rhaegal had returned there, but Jon could feel the green dragon in his mind, knowing that as soon as the man was ready, it would be there.

But that was just it, Jon wasn't ready. The exhilarating feeling of flight had left him more confused than ever, a state of mind that he was getting extremely used to. He had tried riding a horse on his patrols that morning and it just hadn't been the same… but did that mean he wanted to out himself? They had learned all about the past dragon riders as children with Luwin. Only one in the history of the Seven Kingdom's had neither the name or the colouring of the Targaryen's, and even she had been a supposed bastard of a Prince. If Jon were to admit to his newly found status… questions would be asked no matter how Robb thought otherwise.

Everything in Jon's mind was screaming at him telling him to ignore his doubt, to utilise his new power on the enemy, but his heart knew otherwise. King Lucerys was popular in the North thanks to his actions fighting the Wildlings, but things were different in the South, rumours spilled even to Winterfell and if Jon was proclaimed as the bastard of Prince Rhaegar…

He shook his head, not wishing the thoughts of the Iron Throne to even enter his mind. "I'm happy here." He whispered. "Winterfell is my home…"

"It is." A feminine voice sounded from nearby, and Jon was startled to see Sansa walking over towards him. "I'm sorry… I come here a lot too. I can come back later…"

"No." Jon insisted. "Please, some company would be nice." He lied.

Sansa smiled, seeing through him. "You're brooding again." She noted. "You do that a lot, even when we were children." She sighed as she leant on the stone looking out into the distance. "Though I imagine I was the cause of a lot of it." Jon thought back on their childhoods for a moment. Robb had always tried to include him in the Stark children's games and Arya had been his fiercest protector. Bran had often been too young, but had always treated Jon no differently to Robb. Sansa though, she was truly her mother's daughter. Often standoffish and dismissive of him during their games, just her features serving to remind Jon that he was different… lesser. "See." She said, bringing him out of his stupor. "You can't deny it."

Jon shook his head. "You were a child… we all were. We didn't know any better."

Sansa chuckled weakly. "I wish I could go back quite often. To the days before we all left… I want to scream at myself to see Joffrey for who he truly was, to see Cersei for who she was…"

"You were a girl, Sansa. A girl who loved the idea of a Prince coming to sweep you away." Jon remarked.

"And I got Father killed." She muttered solemnly.

Jon recoiled slightly. "That wasn't your fault."

"It was. If I had trusted him, if I didn't go running to Cersei…" She sighed. "We got lucky in the war, I could have lost Robb, lost Arya… I thought I lost Bran and Rickon too…" She wiped a tear from her eye.

Jon moved to grip her gently by her arms, staring into her Tully blue eyes. "You are not at fault, Sansa. Those at fault are dead. Joffrey, Cersei, Tywin… they are all gone."

She smiled weakly, tapping her temple with a gloved finger. "Not in here." She said softly. "I remember them all, all their lessons, everything." She stepped away from Jon. "That's why I come here, and it's why I'm talking to you now. Every day I put on a face for Mother, a face for Robb and Rickon, a face for everybody really. I'll show I'm the same Sansa as they know, but that's not really true anymore." She faced him once more. "I see the same in you."

Jon didn't know what to say, knowing that Sansa had just been able to read him as if he was words in a book. "I'm fine." He insisted. "This threat… it's the greatest anybody has ever faced. I'm worried about what will happen…"

Footsteps interrupted them both and Jon turned to see Malck bowing his head before them. "Jon, Lady Sansa." He turned to Sansa. "Your Mother has requested your presence, My Lady."

"I'll be down now." She smiled, her fake face being plastered back on. Malck bowed and departed. "Just remember what Father always used to say. The lone wolf dies…"

"But the pack survives." Jon finished for her with a smile."

"I've learned a lot from our enemies, Jon." She stated, staring back out into the distance. "But the biggest lesson I learned from being stuck in King's Landing is the importance of family, our family. It matters more than anything." She leant up to kiss him on the cheek. "And you are a big part our family, never forget that."

He had heard similar from their Father before departing from the Wall and then the same from Robb numerous times since the truth had revealed itself, but as Sansa departed Jon had already begun to see her in a brand-new light and for the first time, he actually started to believe them.

Rather than the usual tomes and scrolls based on the Long Night and the Age of Heroes that Luke was usually reading through on an evening, the Targaryen found himself angrily staring at the parchment in front of him with a list of names written on it. Around a dozen or so younger sons and bastards from the Stormlands had been included, and already a couple had been scratched out, including Rolland Storm, a bastard double Shireen's age that had fought for Stannis Baratheon, as well as both of the Estermont's included, Lord Aemon's Grandson Alaric and Great-Nephew Patrek, both of whom were under the age of 7. The King had wanted this done quickly, but his old hatred of the Usurper and Stannis Baratheon was rearing its ugly head whenever he thought of the names in front of him spilling themselves to create a Baratheon child.

Night had fallen when he had only three names he was willing to agree too, though Ser Gawen Grandison was quickly chalked off as Luke remembered his histories around the Usurper's rebellion and the Grandison's turning their cloaks quickly. He was leaning more towards betrothing Shireen to Lyonel Selmy, the younger brother of the current Lord of Harvest Hall, Arstan, as a reward for Ser Barristan's loyal service when the door opened, and Luke was unhappy to see that it was Margaery being let inside. "I'm busy."

"You haven't eaten all day." Margaery countered, setting down a bowl of stew with a chunk of bread. "You need to eat." His stomach betrayed him before he could argue against her with a loud rumble, and Luke rolled his eyes as he set his paper to one side and pulled the tray in front of him, ripping off a bit of bread to dip into his meal. Margaery hung around, sitting beside Luke in the next chair along looking at the paper. "Is this for the next Lord of Storm's End?"

Luke stared at her coldly. "It is." He said shortly. "I am once again forced to play match maker to tie my realm together in peace instead of focusing on what truly matters." The hidden accusation against her family was glaring.

Margaery frowned. "I thought we were friends again…" She said softly.

"In public I will be as attentive and loving as expected." Luke told her. "In private? Forgiveness doesn't come easily, Margaery."

"Daenerys agreed to the plan." Margaery sighed. "It is truly for the best."

"For us. For you." Luke shrugged. "For Dany? She will be mistrusted and disliked for her entire life without true cause. And here I am, forced to put her through it knowing one word could stop it…" He could see her coming back to argue and he held his hand up. "I do not want to hear it again. I've played my part in this mummery and I will continue to do so, but I cannot pretend that I can be close to you again, not for now."

Margaery pursed her lips. "I understand." She muttered shortly. "Well, at least allow me to speak to Shireen about her choice in the matter. If she picks either… Lyonel Selmy or Robar Wensington… then it will feel less forced upon her and the resentment will lessen."

Luke wanted to throw Margaery out with his own hands, but once again he felt shallow and dirty by agreeing with her logic, not understanding if she was actually helping or manipulating him once again. He also saw an opportunity to be done with thinking about Storm's End and Baratheon's fucking by handing it over to his wife who had been so eager to build back trust between them. "You have until noon tomorrow. I want Shireen Baratheon herself in front of me telling me which of the pair she will marry. If not, I will drag her to the Sept myself and she will be forced to marry whomever I chose for her."

Margaery nodded, standing up and straightening her skirts. "I know you feel I'm pushing an agenda on you again, but I swear to you on our children, I am not. I'm doing this for peace. Our Aegon has made friends with the Baratheon child, Jocelyn. Bad blood between our houses will only rip that apart, and I have no wish to see him upset."

"He's friends with her?" Lucerys asked, crinkling his face in disgust. "How has that been allowed to happen?"

Margaery shook her head. "You have been rightfully busy, Lucerys. But she is still the daughter of a Great House and they are close in age. They have begun their reading lessons together."

"I want them apart." He muttered coldly. "She is a prisoner."

"She is a ward." Margaery corrected. "A hostage that we are charged with the care of, and that includes Jocelyn's education. Even you would not lock up a child for the sins of their Father having spoken so often about your own."

Luke felt grim at the reminder of his own Father, and then he also thought back to the stench of the burning bastard boy at Rosby, and the guilt that continued to eat away at him inside about that. "No, I suppose not." He muttered again. "But betroth her also, and quickly. I will not suffer Baratheon grandchildren. That line can fester inside Storm's End if it needs to, but I will not have it within my own line."

Margaery nodded, her eyes blank and unyielding. "As you say, Husband." She curtseyed. "Enjoy your meal." She swivelled and departed the room, leaving Luke once more with a bitter taste in his mouth. Sighing, he finished up his stew and bread before making his way back to the balcony to oversee his city, longing for the day to come where he could forget about politics and governance, and instead he could live the simple life in an army camp, marching to a singular goal. He looked to the skies and saw it was grey, and there was a cold chill in the air, and Luke knew that it wouldn't be long at all.

It was an odd time of night to be summoned to his brother's solar, Jon thought. Supper had finished hours before and half the castle was abed, and yet he had been called by Robb to speak with him anyway. As he was let inside the Lord's office he shook his head, quickly saying. "What could not wait until the morning, Robb?" He had his answer as soon as he looked over at the table. There sat Samwell Tarly, looking slightly more groomed than the last time Jon had seen him as he had departed with King Lucerys to travel to Oldtown. Sam smiled sheepishly, but stood up and allowed Jon to rush into a fierce embrace. "Sam… what are you doing in Winterfell?" He asked excitedly. "Surely you haven't read all the books in the Citadel already?"

Sam grinned. "Not quite…" He trailed off.

"He arrived a few moments ago." Robb stated from the corner, and Jon noticed his brother had tired eyes and even scruffier hair than usual, guessing that Robb was still struggling to sleep properly after Roslin. "I'll leave you two to it. Don't touch anything." He pointed at Jon, who smiled as Robb passed him, patting Jon on the shoulder.

When it was just the two friends left in the room, they hugged again. "Gilly?" Jon asked as they finally pulled apart. "Little Sam?"

"Not so little now." Sam grinned. "They are well, they've been given a room in the castle."

Jon's grin dropped. "You brought them here? Sam… it's too dangerous."

"I did try to convince her to remain at Oldtown!" Sam defended himself. "But… she refused. I even offered to brave Horn Hill for her…" He shuddered. "But no, she wouldn't leave me to travel on my own."

Jon smiled at the obvious love his friend was showing. "Look at us… two brothers of the Night's Watch… sleeping with Wildling's…" He cocked his head then, not realising if his statement was completely correct. "You two are…" Jon trailed off, embarrassed and not wanting to voice it suddenly.

Sam's face blushed furiously. "Yes." He hissed awkwardly, causing Jon to laugh. "Yes, though… we didn't do what you did and get married because of it…"

Jon wanted to say that by taking Gilly all the way to Oldtown they were already wed in the Free Folk custom, but Sam was still beholden to his vows so he remained quiet. "What are you doing here?" He repeated. "Not that I'm not happy to see you of course… I just had thought you would remain in Oldtown." Hoped was a more apt word really, Jon thought afterwards.

"The Archmaesters are slow to believe, despite the King's best preparation. Oldtown is among those gathering and training men and training them fiercely, but Ebrose and the others… they almost mock it, believing it to be nothing more than a tale." Sam explained. "I couldn't stay there, Jon. I'll return if I survive and complete my chain, but I'm needed here."

Jon sighed frustratedly. "At least Lord Hightower is moving." He said bluntly.

Sam nodded. "I need to talk to you urgently though… I found out something." Jon cocked his head questioningly and allowed Sam to continue. "While I was at the Citadel, I was tasked with transcribing a number of older tomes so that we could have copies in the library. One of those was a diary from an old High Septon, during the Mad King's reign." Jon went to interject, but Sam cut in quickly. "No, please. It's important."

"Go on then." Jon said.

"In the year 282 after Aegon's Conquest, the High Septon was summoned from King's Landing by Prince Rhaegar. Upon the banks of the Green Fork, he did wed Rhaegar Targaryen to Lyanna Stark." Sam continued, and Jon's face dropped. "I know… it's a shock, but it's the High Septon's diary…"

"Who knows about this?" Jon asked hurriedly.

"I'm sorry?"

"Who knows, Sam!" Jon exclaimed, stepping closer to Sam. "Who have you told?"

Sam was shocked, and slightly scared as he took a step back. "No… nobody! Only Gilly!"

Jon breathed out a sigh of relief. "Good… good." He began pacing. "Sam, nobody can know what you found out. Have you got the book?" Nodding, Sam held it up. Jon went to take it from his friend and flicked it to the relevant page. It was all there in writing, the physical proof of his parents union, the physical proof of his claim…

As soon as the thought crossed his mind Jon threw the book into the fire, causing Sam to yelp. "What did you do that for?" Sam cried out, going towards the fire to try and save it but Jon just got in his way. "Jon! That's the diary of a High Septon who held the position for 16 years! It's a priceless insight into…"

"Listen to me!" Jon hissed harshly, gripping Sam on the shoulders tightly. "That book… that information… it cannot get out. It's far too dangerous."

Sam frowned. "How? Both Rhaegar and Lyanna are dead. Why would it matter if Rhaegar Targaryen married…" Sam trailed off as his thoughts began to spiral, his mouth forming a perfect O when he reached the conclusion.

"Sam… don't." Jon warned. "Forget you know anything."

"But that means…" Sam ignored him. "That's why he wouldn't say anything to you… it's you! Your parents…"

"Are Ned Stark and a woman he never spoke about before he died." Jon stated bluntly. "And that is all that matters."

Sam though was shaking his head. "This changes everything…"

"It changes nothing." Jon stated defiantly as he moved to sit in Robb's chair. "Jon Snow, Aegon Targaryen… it doesn't matter. All that matters, is the dead are coming for us all."

Sam sat down opposite him. "Jon… King Lucerys is viewed differently now in the South… the whispers are quiet, but they are growing. He gives the Tyrell's too much power... they rebelled against him and murdered Jon Connington and he simply banished Mace Tyrell to the Wall? They don't see the necessity behind strong commanders in the North, instead they see him as soft, as malleable… one way or another, they'll see him as replaceable." Sam then pointed at Jon. "And if this is all true… you will be the true heir to the Throne."

"No." Jon stated firmly once again. "I will not become a usurper, Sam. I am happy here, in Winterfell with my family, with Ygritte. The North is my home, it is where I will stay." He then sighed again and buried his head in his hands. "But that is why I need this kept secret. If people find out the truth… if they see I'm a dragon rider…"

Sam sat rigidly, his eyes widened. "You're a what?"

Jon chuckled at his friend, the tension and fear suddenly disappearing. "You heard me." He muttered weakly. "Lucerys will show the strength he holds once again I am sure, and I shall be miles away, hiding in Winterfell."

Sam held his silence for a moment as the two best friends regarded one another. "You're sure?" Sam asked. "It's a big thing you are giving up."

"As would giving up living in Winterfell with Robb." Jon countered. "And think of Ygritte... Imagine her as Queen of the Seven Kingdom's."

Sam laughed aloud at that. "I almost want to see it." He grinned. The silence fell again, until Sam poured them two wines from Robb's decanter. "Very well, we shall not speak of it again."

Jon gratefully took the goblet. "Thank you." A sip followed, before a cheeky glint appeared in Jon's dark eyes. "So, you and Gilly eh?"

Grinning, Sam began to talk excitedly about his first time laying with a woman, and for a night the two were able to forget the troubles that were surrounding them and gossip like a pair of young ladies.

"Shield up!" Luke called out, as he and his squire Monterys were out in the training yard. Luke whacked the boy's shoulders with his training sword. "Dead."

Monterys was covered in his padded armour, a stern, concentrated look on his face. "Shield up." He repeated, moving it. Luke moved forwards and forced it higher into place.

"You want it to cover both your face and your chest when you're defending." He explained. "But not so high that you can't see." He flicked his sword around again and got into an attacking stance. "Hold firm, watch where I am attacking and block it firmly." Luke swung, connecting with the seahorse shield. He changed his angles with each blow, smacking the shield 5 times before he stopped. "Good! Now make sure to remember your sword. Parry my blow with your shield and try and get me." They continued with that for ten more minutes before Luke felt a jab just above his hip, and the Targaryen grinned. "Well done, Monterys!" He exclaimed.

"I got you!" The boy cheered. "I got you! I… sorry, Your Grace."

Luke shook his head, moving to remove the boy's helm and ruffle his silver hair. "None of that here. In the training yard your goal is to make me yield." He placed the helm back on Monterys' head and took a step back. "You're a way off that yet, but you'll get there."

"Everyone starts off somewhere, little sailor." Rolly Duckworth grinned to the side. "Why, I remember when His Grace here first started…"

"We don't need to here that, Ser Rolly." Luke rolled his eyes.

"We were two young boys in armour half as good as that." Rolly nodded his eyes towards the Velaryon. "Whacking each other in turn without any skill whatsoever."

Luke swung his sword and pointed it at his Kingsguard friend. "Things have changed since then."

Rolly grinned, turning to pick up a blunted sword from the rack. "They have, Your Grace." He bowed politely before the red-headed Kingsguard knight flew into the attack, sparring with Luke fiercely as the King laughed aloud in delight as he twisted his body and put all of his strength into his attacks.

The bout lasted longer than Luke would remember at full pelt, but eventually the Kingsguard stood victorious as Luke called out. "I yield!" Applause rang around the training yard as Luke went to shake Rolly's hand. "You got lucky." He noted.

"I always get lucky." Rolly grinned.

Getting back in teaching mode however, Luke turned to Monterys. "The Kingsguard are meant to be the best. It is no shame in losing to them in the training yard, but out there in the heat of battle, you have to be the best." He pointed his finger into Monterys' chest. "And you will be, providing you keep practicing…"

He trailed off and stepped backwards as he felt something cold land on his nose. Wiping it, he only saw a small wet patch on his gloved hand. "Your Grace?" Rolly asked, concerned.

"I'm fine." Luke waved away as he looked up into the sky. Sure enough the clouds had darkened, and falling from them were small, white specks. "Snow."

Monterys was alarmed. "We never get snow here…"

"This winter will be a different one." Luke stated bluntly, his mind beginning to think at pace. "Rolly, go to Gormon. I want ravens flying to all the capital strongholds instructing them to call the banners."

Rolly moved closer to Luke, speaking quietly in his ear. "Is it time?"

"Soon." Luke nodded. "But I want to be ready. Sunspear, Storm's End, Highgarden… all of them. They all need to be ready. Volon Therys, Volantis and Lys too, any allies we have in Essos."

"The birds will fly, Your Grace." Rolly bowed, before the Kingsguard knight sprinted off into the castle.

With the initial shock having passed, Luke turned to Monterys. "Again." He commanded. "We all must be ready, Monterys. The storm is upon us, and we will face it."

Castle Black was bustling. With the arrival of the former Lord Tyrell and the numerous other additions from the Reach that had followed the disgraced man, the numbers of the Night's Watch had swollen so that the castle was fit to burst. Jaime Lannister was only slightly grateful that most of the Westermen that had been sent by Tyrion to join him were now manning other castles to save the initial ill feeling that would have inevitably met the two former enemies, but the 999th Lord Commander could have done with more allies to counter the Tyrell knight's popularity with the new additions.

Still, there were a large number of capable warriors within the new recruits and even Mace Tyrell had been pulling his weight and become a steward, though the constant complaining about both Lucerys Targaryen and the cold had begun to grate on the Lannister enough that every chance he got he ascended the Wall, preferring the peace and tranquillity atop the ice over the chaos on the ground. Dusk had been falling earlier each day, and the Lord Commander was keeping a firm eye on the tree line of the Haunted Forest in the distance for it was only a matter of time now before the dead came for them. Jaime had been preparing however, the tunnel had been collapsed and orders to do the same had been sent to all the castles on the Wall so that there was no way underneath, the Walkers had to climb.

"It's quiet." Grenn commented from nearby, and Jaime was interrupted from his thoughts and turned to notice that the man that had almost become his loyal muscle was sharpening his own sword. "Too quiet."

"Aye." Jaime noted, internally hissing at the fact that he was starting to speak like the Northerners and common folk he now called brothers. "And night has fallen earlier once more."

They remained in silence again, the only sounds being the wind around them for being so high and the flickering of the flames. Though this time Jaime focused more on the actual forest. Grenn had been right, whilst usually there were signs of wildlife even this late into Winter, tonight there was nothing. No sign of animals on the edges of the forest, no birds flying around the treetops… it unnerved Jaime.

Though not so much as the lone rider that appeared as the wind began to strengthen. Despite being 700 feet high, he could clearly see the icy crown adorning the Night King's blue head. Eyes wide in horror, Jaime could only watch on as the Night King's mount moved forwards until he was half way between the Wall and the Haunted Forest. Looking upwards, Jaime felt a chill run down his spine as his own green eyes gazed into the piercing blue tiny specs of the Night King's.

"Grenn." Jaime muttered hoarsely. "It's time. Run and get the others… Pyp goes West, Ed East… and you…"

"South, to Mance Rayder and Lord Celtigar." Grenn stated, his voice trembling, but Jaime heard his retreating footsteps and the winch cage gate opening and shutting once more. As Grenn descended, Jaime hadn't taken his eyes off of the Night King, though he was about to do so when from the treeline additional White Walker's followed, dozens of them all mounted and joining the Night King in halting between the Wall and the forest. Then came the dead.

The sight of the thousands upon thousands of walking corpses in various states of decay sprung Jaime into action as he vaulted towards the large horn and blew into it, the noise ear splittingly loud. He took a deep breath and blew loudly once more, before repeating the process a third time. Stepping away from the horn he moved his hand to his sword belt, ignoring his sword and gripping his Dragonglass dagger. He took a step back to the trench in the ice and saw that his brothers on watch duty had all taken a step back and were looking directly at him, their faces terrified.

"This is what we have trained for." Jaime said, not knowing where the confidence was coming from as even he felt like turning around and fleeing. "This is it. The dead are coming, brothers, and we must hold them." He turned to face the other side. "Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death…" He paused for a minute to turn once more. "I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory." He turned again. "I shall live, and die, at my post!" He withdrew his steel sword and held it aloft, to which his brothers followed suit and the sound of steel scraping was all that was heard for a moment. Now more of those atop the Wall had joined in the chant. "I am the sword in the darkness! I am the Watcher on the Walls! I am the fire that burns against the cold! I am the light that brings the dawn! The horn that wakes the sleepers! The shield that guards the realms of men!" The entirety of the Wall atop Castle Black were now shouting their oaths once again, and Jaime took a step forward so that he could peer over the platform, and he noticed that the dead were marching towards the wall. "I pledge my life, and my honour to the Night's Watch." He said quieter this time, thinking back on all the times he had shattered his honour for Cersei… broken his oaths for one reason or another… the Night's Watch had given him purpose again after the War had threatened to break him, and Jaime gripped his sword tighter in determination as he watched the dead run closer. "For this night, and all nights to come." He finished off, before the general inside of him took the forefront. The Wall was his to defend, and he would defend it until he was unable to do so. "ARCHERS AT THE READY! Jaime screamed, preparing himself for the fight of all fights…

It's worth reminding ourselves that Sansa hasn't had to go through the Ramsay trauma this time, but she's still an astute woman. That scene actually came about through one of my rewatches of Season 6 and the relationship the pair shared in episodes 4 or 5 of that season. It's also a bit of a prelude to Jon finally snapping out of his doom and gloom 'who am I?' phase. He knows exactly what he wants to be, and Sansa's words will have a lasting impact.

Luke's hatred against the Baratheon's is still far too prevalent. He's bitter at having to choose who carries on that line when he wants it ended, but for the sake of peace he knows that's impossible. Handing it over to Margaery is his way of ridding anger from his life in a weird way, though she won't simply go and make her own choices, she's been give the parameters.

Sam's back! I love Sam and Jon's relationship and even more so here when they both have wildling lovers. This scene was important for me to actually voice Jon's thoughts on his family. He is at home in Winterfell no matter the truth behind his parentage.

Then the final two scenes… both are adaptions of scenes in Season 7 Episode 7 in a way, with snow falling in King's Landing. The second one is also an adaption of the final scene, with the White Walker's at the Wall. Obviously though this time they don't have a dragon to just decimate the Wall and the Night's Watch. It does show the end of Season 7 however, and next time around we will be in Season 8 territory!

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter.

Next Time: The realm reacts to the news from Castle Black, while Jon's dreams speak to him…

Reviews:

Necros The Saiyan knight: He knows Rhaegal has gone AWOL, but with everything that's happened a wild, fully grown dragon isn't that much of a concern. It will get mentioned next chapter that he is wanting reports on Rhaegal so Luke is hoping to know more when he gets to the North.

Mercs and Stags: That's the question isn't it! The Golden Company won't, but they aren't the only ones coming… Gendry is in Winterfell working tirelessly at the forge!

ScandalAlicent5Z: Tommen is still Tyrion's heir at this point so one day he might have to. Myrcella is a different matter entirely.

meryfcuckery: I have no idea what that means.

Rvenge: I've answered that question far too many times… no they won't.

C.E.W: I can't say I've read either, but having a brief look at both of those first chapters shows that my story should be completely different, though the younger brother is called Aenar which is relatively close.

Behold the Exalted One: That's definitely what Randyll Tarly will do! I like to think of Robb as just excited. He's also due to start feeling absolutely terrified at the prospect of leading through the Long Night and so having a dragon on side is a real bonus. Luke's reaction will depend on the circumstance of finding out…

Bhuvan Nagaraj-D: Ser Barristan also thinks that Daemon Blackfyre started the Blackfyre Rebellions for love in the books, despite Daemon having almost a dozen children with another woman and then also waiting 8 years after the marriage of his supposed love Daenerys to Maron Martell… he's not a complete source. Ser Bonifer was only mentioned three times in this entire story, twice in one scene and that even starts with Barristan saying 'I heard a rumour.' Luke simply hates his Father and likes the idea that his Mother had some kind of romantic happiness, and that conversation was there purely to distract him from the departure of Luke's own true love. Personally I don't have a true opinion either way, but for the purposes of the story and the theme of hidden loves, it's apt.