Thank you to everybody that has voted in the poll so far. So far it's pretty close, but I'll leave it up until the end of this story so there is plenty of time for those that haven't voted to get their choice in. I will say over on AO3 it's almost unanimous in the Tyrell story being picked.

That being said… I've been doing a lot of work on planning my rewritten Arryn story this week and it's turning out great. It will now be a trilogy as it can easily be split into 3 parts. Part 1 will be Roland's birth to the end of Robert's Rebellion (Chapter 11 of the original story), Part 2 will be an extension of Chapters 18-30 where I go through the first 3 seasons of the show, while the last part will be seasons 6-8 in that universe.

Back to this story though as we enter the realms of Season 8, and I know it's a show fic for the most part, but I'm including the Book Mormont's. This means that at this point in the timeline Alysane's kids are 15 and 8, while Lyanna is a girl that will turn 17 in the year, the same as Arya.

Bold speech is High Valyrian.

307 AC

The weeks following the first snowfall in King's Landing for decades were intense. A week after Luke had called the banners Houses Farring, Hayford and Stokeworth had arrived with their forces, and in the days afterwards more Houses followed. Rosby, Rykker, Thorne, Langward, Dargood, Staunton, Wendwater… all of the Houses of the Crownlands had set up outside of King's Landing, with the city now extended outside of the Dragon Gate to the North with tents and banners of all types flapping in the eerie, winter's light.

The islands were the last to arrive, though they came with some surprises. Daenerys had appeared with an armada of ships that bore multiple sigils ranging from Targaryen and Velaryon, to as far away as Lys and Volantis. When he made his way to the royal docks and greeted his sister she explained it all. "Magister Malaquo has sent aid from Volantis, and Magister Lotho has sent his brother to lead the fleets of Lys…"

That sent a shiver down Luke's spine. "Draenor is here?" He asked. Draenor Rogare was the youngest brother of his first wife, and neither he nor his elder brother Lotho had ever forgiven him for sacking the city almost a decade earlier, though despite their hatred for Luke they doted on their niece.

Daenerys shook her head. "No, he remains on Dragonstone waiting for us to rejoin his ships." She explained. "He is using the time to be with Visenya."

Luke breathed in relief not wishing to be pushed into a conversation with Valarra's family, before noticing that behind Daenerys the higher borns were arriving on the shoreline. He smiled widely as Magister Malaquo walked towards him with open arms. "Magister!" Luke greeted in High Valyrian. "It has been too long!"

"It has, Lucerys." Malaquo grinned, his hair now a thin white in his old age. "Last time I saw you, you stole my granddaughter to the West! Is she here?"

Talisa Maegyr had since become Talisa Dayne, the wife of Luke's former squire and future Lord of Starfall Ser Edric. Luke explained as much to the aging Volantene, and to his surprise the elder Essosi had a wide smile as he wiped a tear. "You are happy?" Luke asked, surprised.

"Talisa always had dreams away from Volantis, my friend. That she has found them here warms my aging heart." Malaquo grinned.

Another figure also caused Luke to grin widely, as his former companion Black Balaq had stepped ashore. His feathered cloak now had a few more colours weaved into it and his arms were covered in golden rings. "My friend." Luke greeted, the happiest he had been in a long time at seeing his old friends from Essos.

"Lucerys!" Balaq grinned, and Luke noticed that three of his teeth were now also golden. "You look like shit! Come back to Volon Therys, we'll sort you out once more."

Luke laughed, hugging the new Captain-General of the Golden Company. "We have a fight on our hands here before anything, Balaq."

That darkened the mood slightly, as Malaquo asked in an accented common tongue. "These demons, they are real?"

"As real as you or I, Malaquo." Luke nodded. "If you speak to the Wildlings, or those in the Night's Watch that have survived…" He shivered at the memory of those stories. "It's haunting."

"But they can die?" Balaq asked.

Daenerys was the one to answer. "They can. We have been mining Obsidian, or Dragonglass. That kills both the Walkers and the dead that they lead."

Balaq nodded gruffly. "We have the entire Company here, Luke, all 12,000 of us. Volantis here has hired 6,000 sellswords too." He patted Malaquo on the back firmly

"And your Lyseni Goodbrother has paid for enough sellsails and pirates to take us." Malaquo finished.

"What of our numbers?" Dany asked Luke. "Who answered the call?"

"The Stormlands are marching up the Kingsroad now, they will be at the city within the next two days." Luke explained. "Our best guess is at 5,000."

Dany scowled. "So few?"

"They had heavy losses whilst following Stannis, and we haven't the time to round up the stragglers that are holding numbers back." Luke sighed. "They still have a small host in the North under Lord Celtigar, we will have men enough. Loras has split his force, 20,000 under the command of Ser Baelor Hightower are being ferried up by Lord Paxter, while Loras marches another 40,000 through the Riverlands. Lord Tyrion wrote to us and told us that the West would send 11,000…"

"This is a mighty host." Balaq grinned.

"The largest ever assembled." Luke nodded. "The entirety of Westeros."

Malaquo smirked. "With much help from Essos."

Luke patted the man on the back as he began to lead them towards the Red Keep. "The finest help." He agreed. As they began to walk however, Luke looked up at the steps to see the old Grand Maester running slowly down the steps. "Seven Hells…" He whispered, moving quickly to intercept Gormon. "Gormon, what is it?"

"Your Grace." The old man panted. "A raven… from Last Hearth…"

The blood from Luke's face drained and his eyes widened in horror. "Last Hearth?" He asked for clarification. Gormon simply nodded, handing the letter to Luke before leaning on the side to catch his breath. Luke slowly unfurled the thin parchment and read the small scratches upon it.

"Luke?" Dany asked, her hand gently caressing his back. "What is it?"

Luke read and reread the letter five times before it truly sunk in. He handed it to Dany then, and allowed her to read it aloud.

"Castle Black is under attack. The dead are here. Send aid." She read out.

"It's time." Luke muttered. "They are here." Then, all of a sudden, it was as if his brain simply focused. "Dany, fly southwards now. Meet up with the Baratheon force and tell them to march through the nights, they can rest on their ships once they get here." Dany nodded, running back down the stairs towards Viserion. "Balaq, Malaquo. Ready your men. I want ships filled with Crownlanders and on their way to White Harbour within the hour."

"Yes, Captain-General." Balaq bowed, deferring to his former commander. Luke didn't correct him either, simply watching the Summer Islander and the Essosi depart for their boats again.

Luke meanwhile patted the Grand Maester on the back. "Don't rush back up Gormon, take your time. You cannot die on me yet." He called out, before the younger man ran up the stairs two at a time, ready to start the war machine that would be moving thousands of men to the North as quickly as possible.

The plans were all laid out over the table in Robb's solar. A map of Winterfell drawn on in excruciating detail. Robb was leaning over it, second guessing himself at every turn to ensure that he knew exactly what they would do in any given circumstance. Grenn had arrived at Winterfell earlier that day to explain the news of the White Walkers at the Wall, and so Robb had terrified himself into realising that time was short.

"If they break through the Hunter's Gate…" He trailed, moving a cold blue token towards the named gate.

"Then we collapse the walkway to the Library tower and bottle them in the kennel courtyard." Jon retorted. "The men on the walls surrounding the Godswood will be summoned to attack from above with flames and Dragonglass."

Robb nodded, moving certain tokens around. So far on the map were the tokens for all of the Northern Houses that had arrived at Winterfell. For now it was just the ones closest like House Cerwyn, Tallhart and the Wolfswood houses, but after the King's orders more were converging on the Northern fortress by the day, which meant that Robb's plans were changing every day as he worked out where to place his soldiers. "We need the Glenmore's." He muttered to himself.

"We have a good group of archers already, Robb." Jon insisted, proud of his own wife for how she had trained the women in the art of the bow.

"Aye, but the elite guard is something else entirely." Robb countered. "They were instrumental…"

"At the Battle of Moat Cailin, I know." Jon rolled his eyes. "We've been over this enough for one day, Robb. We know what we are doing. Let us go and walk about the defences or train, or something different."

Robb frowned. "This needs to be more than muscle memory, Jon. If what Bran says is true…"

A grimace formed on Jon's face. At one of Robb's council meetings after the King's raven their brother had explained that the Night King's first mission was to kill him, and that Bran had been branded so that no matter where they ran too, the Night King would follow. Not even the sea could stop him, which made Robb's first plan of sending Bran to Essos obsolete. It meant that every waking hour was spent finalising and improving the defensive plans. "We are as ready as we will ever be." Jon insisted, moving to wrap an arm around Robb's shoulder. "Come on."

After a split second of hesitation, Robb allowed himself to be pulled away, ensuring that his solar was locked as they departed the room. Winterfell was as usual bustling with activity, though most of that was now runners ensuring that every few yards of Winterfell's curtain wall had a full quiver of Dragonglass arrows and a full rack of spears and daggers all tipped with the black stone. Ser Kyle Condon was leading a training session of more than three hundred people, and from the top of Ned Stark's favourite overlook spot Jon spotted the old farmer, Bennard, going through the motions with a spear in his hand. Beneath them was Ygritte with children ranging from 10 to 14, all with bows in their hands.

"We're turning the entire North into a war machine." Robb muttered.

"We've turned the entire of Westeros into one." Jon corrected. "The realm hasn't seen unity on this scale since the Stepstones… 50 years almost." He clapped Robb on the back. "And you are ready to lead us."

Robb shook his head. "We shall see." He muttered as a horn blast sounded around the castle.

Jon tensed up, but no more followed. "Ranger returning." He whispered out of habit.

Robb waited for the gates to open, and smiled as he saw the banners that were flying in the hands of the newcomers. "Maege…"

It was all of House Mormont. Jon spotted the head of the House leading the hundred or so warriors behind her, with all 5 of her daughters flanking her. Even Maege's two grandchildren by her second daughter Alysane were there with weapons in hand, Lyessa, a maid of 15 wielding a mace like her Grandmother and Jonathor, a boy of 8, with a bow around his neck and a jagged dagger at his hip. Jon only had eyes for one person in the party however, as Arya Stark had ridden in beside Maege's youngest daughter Lyanna. Without saying a word to Robb, Jon made his way down to ground level and pushed his way through the gathered crowd. Robb had obviously followed him because not long after Jon had made his way to the front, yards away from his sister, the Mormont's all bowed towards him in unison.

"Rise, My Ladies." Robb stated from next to Jon, and the Mormont group did just that. "Maege, it is good to see you once more."

"Likewise, My Lord." The grey-haired Lady of Bear Island said, greeting Robb with a firm hand shake. "Winterfell has called, and Bear Island has answered. 107 of the finest warriors that we have to offer are at your command, Lord Stark."

Jon was initially disappointed at the numbers, but that quickly faded when he noticed Robb grinning. "Then the dead are doomed. Thank you all, allow me to show you to your encampment." Robb gestured out of the gate, though not before stopping in front of Arya and hugging her. "You've grown."

"That tends to happen." Arya smirked.

Robb nodded, ruffling her hair. "I'll catch up soon, your rooms are the same." He explained. "Come, Maege, we've put you next to the Glover's…"

As Robb dealt with the now complaining Mormont's, Arya stayed perfectly still as she looked up at Jon. The last time he had seen her was as they both departed Winterfell in different directions along the Kingsroad. She had been 10 years old and troublesome back then. Now she was a woman grown, still shorter than him by a foot, but she had a sword at her hip like it had been born there with her.

"You used to be taller." Arya commented, breaking the silence.

Jon grinned. "You're still short, no matter what Robb said." He joked, causing Arya to break her own façade and come running over to him, jumping up and wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. "I've missed you." He whispered.

He let her settle down back on the ground. As she flattened her tunic she said. "I got your letters, but it isn't the same."

Nodding, Jon could only agree. He gestured to her sword. "You know how to use that?"

It wasn't quite Needle, but it was a thinner blade than most, one that reminded him of Dark Sister more than any other sword he had ever seen. Arya unsheathed it and flicked it around with ease. "Aye." She said. "Even now there are Wildling's that didn't follow Mance and tried to take advantage of the chaos."

The unspoken words were obvious to Jon, as he struggled to look at his little sister the same way as he had done all those years ago now knowing that the innocent little girl that constantly found herself getting in the way was also a killer. "We've all had to grow up quicker than we should have." He noted.

Arya nodded, sheathing her sword again. "I'm sorry I lost Needle." She said quietly.

Jon shook his head, placing his hands on both of her shoulders. "Needle was a weapon for a girl who wouldn't learn to stitch. This is a blade for a warrior." He noticed her smile at his words. "Come, you can show me what you've learned." He gestured to the Godswood. "Away from prying eyes."

They barely made it three steps before another man stepped towards them from the direction of the forges. "You came back then?" Gendry asked with an eyebrow raised.

Arya smirked. "Somebody has to make sure that you don't die." She joked.

Thankfully, Gendry laughed. "Welcome home, Arya." He said kindly, before a call came from the forge behind him. Sighing, Gendry added "I've got to get back, but…"

"We'll catch up, I promise." Arya nodded her head.

Gendry smiled down at her and bowed his head. "Milady." He grinned, dodging out of the way of her punch.

"Git." She muttered, but Jon could only watch her in amusement as she shook her head and led him away to the Godswood. It finally felt like House Stark was back in one piece, and Jon was determined to keep it that way.

When Jaime had last travelled through the Gift it had been derelict and empty and he had been travelling with an entire host of men. This time however, even in the unrelenting darkness the snow illuminated the hastily erected city that had been created by Mance Rayder and his followers.

The Lannister was battered and bruised, and tired above all else. They had held the Wight's off the Wall for three days of near constant fighting, but depleted resources and a near constant stream of new enemies to face had made it near on impossible to continue. The Lannister was glum, with the only thought running through his head being that of being remembered as the only Lord Commander to surrender the Wall.

He had had no choice though. Being attacked from the North was manageable, they had the Wall as the best defence. When the horns began blasting to the West however and men that he had sent as far as Stonedoor were now attacking them with bright blue eyes, he knew that the Wall was lost. Hoping that he had given enough time for the South to mobilise, Jaime had ordered the retreat just in time for the Wall to splinter at the top and large chunks of ice along with Reachman bodies had begun to drop from the top of the Wall like rain, exploding into pink nothingness on impact. The memory made the Kingslayer sick to his stomach.

It had turned out that the King's dragon had made a structural weakness with its fire years earlier when they had defended against it and the White Walker's had sensed it, and so those that had been beneath the Wall at the time had simply made a run for it, with Jaime leading the rear, ensuring that every living man of the Night's Watch made it away as far as Molestown before he made a run for it himself.

As he entered the boundary of the new settlement and spotted a bloodied Edd Tollett shouting about something intelligible, that was when Jaime collapsed from sheer exhaustion. The next thing he knew he was lying down on a straw mattress, Mance Rayder and Edd looking down on him.

"Lord Commander." Edd greeted. "You're alive."

Jaime nodded weakly. "What's happened?"

Mance grunted. "Not a lot, you've only been out an hour, but we have to move." The King Beyond the Wall had fear in his eyes. "They're through the Wall."

Jaime bolted up so he was sitting rather than laying, though Edd's arms came to stop him from moving more. "Careful, Ser." Edd stated.

"We need to get to Winterfell… warn Lord Stark." Jaime wheezed.

"Your man Grenn is already on his way, and we've sent Crows to Last Hearth and Karhold also." Mance explained. "The North is aware. What I want to know is how many there are?"

Jaime thought back to that first attack when the darkness had come. "Tens of thousands. Likely more if they attacked more castles than Castle Black. Giants, mammoths… all of them."

"Did we take any of the big ones out?" Mance asked, and Jaime caught the implication of the White Walkers.

Jaime simply shook his head. "They didn't move an inch, just let the wight's do the work. They climbed the wall, and when we cut them down they rose and climbed again, no matter how twisted and broken the fall left them. We didn't stand a chance." He muttered bitterly.

Mance sighed, pacing away from him. "We haven't the defences here." He muttered to himself as he began to pace.

Jaime heard a female voice sound across the hut from the distance. "We must leave, travel to Winterfell. I can see it in the flames, Winterfell is where we make our stand."

The Lord Commander went to swivel around to stand up, but Edd stopped him again. "You're too weak, Lord Commander." He insisted. "Stay, we'll get you a wagon."

"Aye." Mance nodded. "But make it quick, Tollett."

"We must hurry." The woman said, her voice mysterious and unnerving. "The darkness has fallen and the Long Night has begun. Dawn shall not break again until the Great Other is defeated."

Ships were sailing into King's Landing's main harbour and departing on a regular basis, and by the time the Stormlanders had arrived there was a sizable force already en route to White Harbour. The final ship to board however was Luke's own flagship Vhaegon. For now he was dressed in his armour, though he would very quickly take it off after setting sail. The entire court had made a progress down to the city in order to wave off the King and the Hand, with Luke having already given out his orders for those that would remain in the Capital.

The only members of the Council that would remain in the Red Keep were Gormon Tyrell, Lysono Maar and Harry Strickland, so Luke had been forced to allow Margaery a place on the regency council and given them strict instructions to just keep things running as smoothly as possible and to update him if any reports of a wild, green dragon were heard about. He had also left Ser Symon Cressey behind in order to protect his two children that remained in the Red Keep with strict orders to sail immediately to Dragonstone if they should fail. As for those that were to join the King, Monford Velaryon was hosting Lord Tarly, Ser Franklyn and Ser Taron on the Seadragon in order to negate the devastation a sunken ship could cause the leadership of the Realm, while Lucerys was escorting Prince Oberyn until they met up with Ned Dayne and the Dornish soldiers, with Ser Barristan, Ser Rolly and the newly cloaked Ser Lorimas Mudd also on board the Vhaegon.

Luke stood on the docks holding Aegon in one arm and Saella in the other, trying to ignore the gathered crowd that were shouting their feelings, positively or negatively, towards the Targaryen King. He pressed a kiss to Saella's sleeping head before handing her back to her nursemaid, before hoisting Aegon up higher and hugging the three-year-old tightly. "I'll be back soon." He promised the toddler, pressing a similar kiss to Aegon's forehead and setting him down. Once the Prince was also with the nursemaid, he moved over to Margaery. For the benefit of the crowd, he moved to kiss her delicately on the cheek, lingering just slightly to whisper coldly. "I'm trusting you, do not make me regret it again."

"I won't." Margaery breathed as she wrapped her arms around his neck so her hands were resting on his woollen golden cloak. Luke pulled away as the crowd were applauding and he made sure to give them all a wave before he took one final look at his two children with Margaery.

"Your Grace, it's time." Ser Barristan whispered nearby, and Luke nodded his agreement. Waving less formally at Aegon he then spun on his heels and boarded the ship right foot first. He ran his gloved hands against the manicured wood of the ship he had won from Euron Greyjoy all those years ago and made his way up to the Quarterdeck. Leaning down as he looked at the red cloaked soldiers and sailors in their positions, Luke took one last look back at King's Landing, breathing it all in before his eyes settled once more on his family.

The order went up to set sail, and as the hulking warship heaved out into Blackwater Bay leaving the city behind, Luke breathed in the clean, sea air deeply. Ser Barristan and Ser Rolly had him flanked, and he said to the pair of them. "Is it wrong that I'm almost relieved to be sailing off to war once more?"

"Perhaps." Rolly stated. "I'd much rather be putting my feet up in the Red Keep over sailing to our imminent deaths… but there is something refreshing about being on this ship again with a clear goal in mind. It feels like the old days."

Luke smiled, feeling exactly that. His sword hand found the pommel of Blackfyre as his other rested on the wooden banister that overlooked the ship's lower deck, the wind rushing through his hair, and the King of the Seven Kingdom's felt at home.

"My Lord! It's time!" The serving girl exclaimed as Jon was surveying the courtyard of Winterfell. "She's birthing!"

Swearing, Jon ran after the woman, ignoring Nymeria and Summer play fighting in one corner as Mikken hammered away in his forge. Once he was inside the keep he had to dodge Gage and Turnip as they carried steaming plates into the Great Hall, while Septa Mordane was muttering to herself as she ignored him.

He ran to the Lord's chambers and barged his door open, seeing Ygritte on all fours as Maester Aemon stood behind her, his hands reaching underneath her dress. "Another push!" The old man was saying. "We are almost there!"

Jon walked around behind the pair, and he watched on as from between Ygritte's legs a large green claw found its way out. After a moment it was an entire leg, and before long, without knowing how it had fit inside of his wife, a large dragon was filling up the Lord's chambers. Without a moment of warning the beast reared its head and roared, fire engulfing the entire room, though no person was burning.

Feeling a pull outside, Jon sidestepped the havoc causing dragon and left the Lord's chambers. As he made his way down the staircase and out into the courtyard once again, the smell of smoke was overpowering and the entire castle was aflame. Puzzled, Jon did a full spin to see the destruction of his home in full, though when he returned to his original position, he spotted a man with his back to Jon.

At first he thought it was the King. The figure had shoulder length silver hair tied up in a knot similar to Jon's own hairstyle, but on closer inspection the figure was skinnier than Lucerys, and slightly taller.

"Hello?" Jon called out, though he was ignored. "Can you hear me?" He walked over, passing by the man in the middle of the burning courtyard, and he noticed that the man was stood over a brown-haired woman with a face he recognised.

"Say it again." The woman said.

The man smiled sadly. "It is written. When dusk falls and doesn't yield, the Great Winter of Aegon's dream will fall upon us. The dragon must have three heads, and all must be united or else doom will fall upon one." The man knelt down and placed his hands on the woman's belly. "Our Visenya will be one of those three."

"And if Visenya is a boy?" The woman raised an eyebrow.

The man smiled. "My dreams are not like your dreams, my love." Was all he said, before he directed his conversation towards her belly. "Aegon will be the brain, and Rhaenys the heart. But you, dear daughter. You shall be the sword. Born of Ice and Fire, born and born again. You may be the third, but you are my most important treasure." He kissed her clothed belly.

"You know I don't know Valyrian." The woman explained.

The man simply smiled, and his eyes flickered towards where Jon was standing to his side. "She will understand." Was all he said. "Born of ice, born of fire. Born of salt and born of smoke. Born underneath a fallen star, she shall rise, and the dawn shall follow."

Behind him, Winterfell exploded into a million pieces, and Jon woke up with a loud gasp, sitting upright in his bed. Panicking, he looked around and saw nothing but his normal chambers, the soft snores of his wife beside him bringing him back into reality.

Luke's past as a sellsword hasn't been totally forgotten, as I reintroduce some old characters from the early days! I've also expanded on Valarra's family here too. Draenor was 11 when Luke sacked Lys in Chapter 1 while Lotho was the 'eldest boy' mentioned. With Luke having been so obsessed with the thought of the Walkers it made sense to me that he would bring in his former allies.

I had to do the reunion with Arya from Jon's perspective… I love their relationship after all. It also goes to show just the level that the North are prepared to defend their homes, with Maege's young grandson one of those wielding weapons ready to fight.

One thing the show seemed to forget after Season 5 was that the Wall isn't just Castle Black and Eastwatch. While the focus here is still on Castle Black, the Night King wouldn't have just attacked one area without the power of a dragon behind him, and so while the Night's Watch held them at Castle Black for days, other castles weren't so lucky. Jaime made it out however, and is travelling with the Wildlings to Winterfell!

I can imagine some of the thoughts about Margaery being left in charge… but she's a changed person and in all honesty, he doesn't have much other choice given the number of capable warriors he needs to take North. His relief at being away from it all is telling though, he is a warrior, not a King.

And finally… Jon's dream. It's an extended version of the one he had in Chapter 45. I'm intrigued to see what you guys decipher from it…

Thank you all for reading! We really are going full speed towards the end now as the realm converges on the North…

Next Time: The Wildlings and Night's Watch survivors get to Winterfell, while the truth about Jon starts to spread…

Reviews:

Meryfcuckery: Even in the show things made sense when you factor into consideration how rushed it was and that George will have the luxury of being able to explain the characters inner thoughts. Those events happening over the course of 10 seasons so they have time to tell the story properly? It would probably work and I fully expect a lot of Season 8 to happen in some way in the books including Mad Dany, a battle at Winterfell with the Others being defeated there, Bran ending up as the King, Cersei dying with Jaime etc. As for your opinions on the story, I had no idea you actually enjoyed it at all when all I've gathered from your reviews is that you've misunderstood this version of Mace Tyrell and that you wanted a story where Luke is a tyrant and just burns anybody who disagrees with him, which is exactly the sort of person he doesn't want to be if you'll remember how much he hates his Father. Considering your only reviews have been negative about the Thorn's Tumult arc (I presume that Naruto comment was negative, as I said I have no idea what it meant) wouldn't it be better to just not read it if all you're going to do is complain?

Snow and Dragons: He's shying away from dragon riding for now for that exact reason. The Arryn story just needs some work. Looking back there's a lot I would do differently now I'm a bit more experienced and I'm really excited with the plans I've made. The overall story won't change too much, though some bits will. Seed of the Dragon isn't a completed plan yet and is extremely ambitious. Maybe one day…

DeraklesFK: Luke will find out eventually, and circumstances will dictate his reaction… though how do you expect prisoners to be able to run away?