On Sunday 3rd September at 9pm BST (4pm EST) I'll be speaking live on the official r/thecitadel Discord Server 'Oldtown' talking about all things ASOIAF/Game of Thrones fanfiction and my experiences writing for this fandom. I can't put links here on FFN so if that is of interest to any of you reading then please check that subreddit for a post a few days ago from u/Cardinal_Red_Hand (AKA Rolling Mist 13 on here) and join the discord. There will be a chance for audience questions if there is anything about my process or stories that you feel like you want to ask me! I'd love for as many of you to join in if you are able.

Back to this story though, and we're into the last two chapters of this entire story. As I've already said there will be a sequel coming which I'll upload before my next adventure, but I'll likely take a few weeks off after this mammoth project.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter as the dust settles on the Long Night! I own nothing but OC's, the actual characters and locations are the property of HBO or George R R Martin.

The rising sun had truly signalled that the fighting was over and those that had survived the Night King and the Army of the Dead had truly won. Once Luke had aided Ser Barristan back inside the Gatehouse Tower all he could do was stare outside the windows at the brightening horizon, where all of the bodies were being separated. By the time that Luke had stumbled into his bed to sleep and then was woken up by Ser Rolly and his squire, he saw that pyres were being built and bodies placed atop them, whilst the remains of the Army of the Dead were being piled up separately.

"Jon Snow has been organising a ceremony." Rolly explained as Luke was being re-armoured by Monterys Velaryon. "They'd like you to say some words."

Grimacing, Luke accepted the responsibility as the finishing touches of his armour were put on. He stared at his reflection and sighed, noticing that the armour looked too unblemished because of where he fought, wishing that it was battered and dented like the Kingsguard Knight's. Without speaking a word however he grabbed both Aegon's dagger and Blackfyre, tying both to his hip before making his way back down to the ground.

The first thing that the King saw as he exited the Gatehouse Tower and adjusted to the sunlight was that Rhaegal hadn't moved, though thankfully the dragon was still breathing deeply in its slumber with a foul-smelling poultice that must have been delicately placed onto the wounds. Jon Snow was also there with his wife, Ygritte, but the pair quickly moved to join the King when they spotted him.

"Your Grace." Jon began. "We should…"

"We'll honour the dead before we talk further about anything." Luke insisted, placing a caring hand on Jon's shoulders. "Go to her, make sure you say your private goodbyes." He thought of Dany at that moment, devastated that he would never get the chance with his own sister as Jon was about to get with Arya. Jon simply nodded without a further word and departed to the funeral pyres with Ygritte. Luke instead wanted to give everybody some time, so as those around him began to make their way around towards the pyres, Luke instead moved towards Rhaegal. "We birthed you from the flames." He stated quietly as he ran a gloved hand over the green dragons scales. "Daenerys and I, we gave you life." He moved further around, his hand keeping contact with Rhaegal as the Targaryen reached the snout. "But your life is in the North now." He sighed, understanding that it would be a rare occurrence for the green dragon to return to the South.

"Your Grace." Rolly called from behind him. "It's time."

Luke nodded. "Look after him." He whispered to Rhaegal. "He is family, no matter his own thoughts. And we need our families." He patted Rhaegal's snout gently before turning away, his own thoughts back to his family back in the Crownlands, but especially on the motherless bastard that was completely unaware of anything that had happened in the North.

The King took a deep breath as he prepared to pass by the gathered crowds. A walkway had been created between the survivors for the King and his guards to walk through, and when he arrived at the front the sheer scale of the deaths in the final battle became clearer. As he got to the front there were plenty of recognisable faces. He saw the Lannister brothers sticking closely together, as well as Loras Tyrell, a large gash across his cheek. Jon Snow and Ygritte were also there now, along with the rest of the surviving Lords that had all come together to fight.

Standing out at the front and staring out at the vast losses they had all faced, Luke began to speak. "Over 300 years ago, my ancestor Aegon Targaryen dreamt of a threat so dangerous that he decided to change the course of history and unite Westeros as one. He knew not when this fight would come, but he knew that when it did, we all needed to stand together to face it. Today, we gather as a realm reborn from the ashes of that foreseen battle that tested our very souls. The sun is risen, and the Long Night has passed, and the darkness that threatened to engulf us has been vanquished by the unwavering spirit and courage that burns within the hearts of every one of you!" He spread his hands out to gesture to all of those stood before him, listening in. "I stand before you not as a King, but as a witness to the incredible sacrifices and triumphs that have brought us to this moment. In a moment we shall remember those who fell in the heat of battle, those who gave their lives so that others may live to see the dawn. Their names will be etched in our history, a testament to their bravery and the price they paid for our survival. Let us never forget the camaraderie that bound us in our darkest hours, the alliances formed in the crucible of adversity, and the sacrifices made by countless souls who believed in the cause of preserving all that we hold dear."

Taking another deep breath, he turned his head out to face the fallen once more, with the most prominent of pyres being the one to hold Arya Stark. His thoughts turned to Jon then, the currently unofficial new Lord of Winterfell as the last grandchild of Rickard Stark, and he knew he needed to talk of the future. "As we mourn the fallen, let us also look ahead with hope and resolve. The shattered swords, the smouldering ruins, and the scars on our land are not just symbols of loss, but of our shared determination to rebuild and restore. We, the living, stand as a testament to the indomitable spirit that refuses to yield, that seeks to thrive amidst the ruins. The battles we have fought have united us, forged bonds that transcend Houses and titles. Let us channel the strength we've shown in battle towards forging a lasting peace. A peace that honours the sacrifices of those we mourn today, a peace that upholds justice, and a peace that allows us to thrive in a world free from the looming threat that once haunted our dreams."

Valaxes roared from overhead as all the heads in the crowd looked up to face the dragon, and Luke continued his speech knowing where to go next. "My friends, as a son of Targaryen, I look to the dragons as symbols of our realm's power and resilience. Just as the dragons rose from ashes to return to our world, so too shall we rise from the ashes of this darkness, stronger and wiser than ever before. Let us honour the memory of those who have fallen by ensuring that their sacrifices were not in vain, and by shaping a future where our realm flourishes in harmony and unity. May the legacy of this battle be one of hope, resilience, and the unbreakable spirit that defines us as a people." Luke then moved to grab one of the many torches that had been prepared, holding it high in the air. "Let us carry this torch forward, knowing that our actions today will define the stories told by generations to come. Together, let us forge a new chapter in the history of our realm… one that embodies the values for which we fought, and the hope that guided us through the Long Night."

He then gestured towards Jon, who looked like he didn't want to move at all, but after being nudged forwards by Ygritte the Northerner reluctantly moved towards the King, who whispered in his ear. "These are your lands, lead the service how you see fit." Luke explained, before himself walking back to the crowds.

It took a moment for Jon to pull his eyes away from Arya's unmoving body, but when he did, the speech he then made using the words of the Night's Watch Vow was extremely moving. It was then that Jon received a torch, and the time to burn the bodies had arrived. Luke himself moved over to the pyre where Ser Franklyn lay, along with Marqelo Maegyr and Draenor Rogare. It took a while for all of the pyres to have a man or woman stood over them, but when a mournful horn blast sounded from the top of the Gatehouse Tower, Luke lowered his torch into the base of the pyre, ensuring that the kindling was lit before moving to a different corner and repeating the process.

Once the fires had been lit everybody stood still and in silence, watching the flames rise higher into the sky and the air to fill with smoke. Luke knew that there was some kind of movement behind him after a while as people began to depart the open area, but he made sure that he stood in place until the fires had burned out, a final mark of respect to all of those that had fallen in the war he had been obsessing over for years.

Whilst the majority of men were quietly celebrating outside of the tower, the noble's had gathered inside the Gatehouse Tower where a modest feast spread had been laid out on the dark table that had once been central to the war planning process. Luke himself kept to the side, though Lord after Lord had been coming over towards him, thanking him for a victory he had barely bled for among countless other things. It was draining, and Luke wanted nothing more than to just leave.

His excuse to do so came around three hours into the celebrations, when he noticed Jon departing. Frowning towards them he caught the eye of the red-headed Wildling, who simply gestured her head out towards the door, indicating Luke to follow. Turning to Lord Tarly, Luke excused himself and followed his Northern nephew out towards where the dragons were kept.

"They've been feasting on the Army of the Dead." Jon noted, hearing Luke's footsteps crunching in the snow. "It's disrespectful."

"Their graves have been desecrated and we no longer bury those we lose." Luke shrugged. "Let them feed, they have earned it." He could sense the wince that Jon had tried to hide from him. "I've spent far too long looking at the past and getting lost within it. Focusing on reuniting my family, on Aegon's dream, on the childhood that was stolen from me… now is the time to look to the future, with this victory a new era is upon us."

Jon sighed. "An era spent alone." He muttered. "Before all this I had everybody… my family. Now, I'm alone."

"You are not alone, Jon." Luke insisted, laying a hand on his nephew's shoulder.

Jon nodded, though he looked like he remained unconvinced. "Aye, I suppose." He turned to face Luke. "My mind has not changed though, I know where I belong, I know who I am."

It was something that Luke was expecting. Had Arya survived he knew he could have tried to integrate himself more with the son of his brother, but things had changed now. "And my promise remains." He said honestly. "Kneel before me now, and rise as Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. It is no consolation for all you have lost, but it is your right."

Jon's smile never reached his eyes, but Luke noticed the lack of hesitation as Jon bent down to one knee and stared down at the ground. "Winterfell is yours, Your Grace." Jon began. "From this day until the end of days, House Stark will serve House Targaryen."

"Rise, Lord Stark." Luke stated formally, gesturing for the action. Jon rose to his feet slowly. "But we are still kin, you and I, so if there is ever anything you need, I am only a raven away."

Jon shrugged. "Or a dragon flight." He then looked out to the North, his new domain. "I'm not sure how badly Winterfell is damaged… it may take time for the North to truly rebuild, given all it has lost."

"Time, and resources." Luke agreed. "The latter of which you shall have, as much as I can spare."

"That is generous, Your Grace." Jon bowed his head again.

"Necessary." Luke countered. "Winterfell is an important stronghold, and one that needs to return to strength if we are to keep this friendship with the Wildlings. I plan on dissolving the Night's Watch after all, so this alliance bound by your own marriage must stand, and your position strength must be returned quickly."

That seemed to surprise Jon for a moment, as realisation kicked in. "Ygritte is the Lady of Winterfell…" He trailed off. "She won't be happy."

Luke chuckled at that, patting Jon on the back. "I'll let you speak with her, and your Lords. The declaration will be signed tomorrow morning." He then went to move back inside to rejoin the solemn festivities, but Jon stopped him again.

"This belongs with you." The new Lord of Winterfell explained, and in his hands was Dark Sister. "I have Longclaw and Ice, more than enough for House Stark. Dark Sister should be wielded by House Targaryen."

Luke nodded, as Jon slowly placed the famed sword in is hands. The unspoken reason for giving it away was clear between the pair of them, as all knew Arya Stark had taken the sword into her last battle. "Thank you." Luke said softly. "It will go to somebody worthy."

There was no more that needed to be said between them, and so once again Luke patted Jon on the shoulder, and this time was successful in his departure, with Luke feeling surprisingly calm at the distance between them for the first time since learning the truth.

Whilst the King was outside, inside the Gatehouse Tower Jaime was also keeping himself to himself. Tyrion had needed to go and speak with his vassals about the Western plans and to mourn their own dead, with a number of men Jaime had known from his past falling in the conflict, including his young paternal cousin Martyn and elder maternal cousin Damion. Quietly sipping his wine he was watching as the survivors were all mingling, and as more wine was drunk, the louder the conversations and the happier the celebrations.

Tyrion returned as night had fallen and just as Jaime had decided he would retire to his tent, but settling himself for another lengthy night, he gestured for his brother to sit down beside him and poured the dwarf a hefty glass of Arbor red. "Ah, lovely!" Tyrion clapped before hauling himself up onto the bench. "To survival." He toasted, and Jaime returned it half-heartedly. "Oh come on Jaime, we won did we not!"

"It doesn't feel like a victory." Jaime muttered. "I was there after Pyke, that was a victory celebration. Robert Baratheon simply needed to click his fingers and the music was blaring, the wine was overflowing and there was more fucking in the halls than there were in the rooms." Though Jaime remembered that he had abstained, despite the many offers, simply longing for Cersei. "We survived, little brother, nothing more."

"We lived to see the future." Tyrion countered. "Which, is what I kept getting asked about outside, as it happens. 'My Lord, what of Ser Jaime?' they asked." He took a large gulp. "And so I ask you now, what of your future?"

"I am a sworn brother…" Jaime trailed off.

"Nonsense, the Night's Watch is done with!" Tyrion claimed. "We are all friends now, and the White Walkers have been defeated." His face lost its mirth then. "You can come home…"

Home. Jaime wanted to scoff. "Casterly Rock hasn't been my home since I was 11." He retorted. "The day I left for Crakehall…"

"I need you." Tyrion stated firmly.

"I'll be a threat to you." Jaime sighed. "You are the rightful Lord, but if I am there at your side…" He shook his head. "I will stay at Castle Black. I have a duty to the realm."

"A duty to do what, freeze your balls off?" Tyrion snorted. "The Wall will remain a wonder of the world I am sure, but the Night's Watch mission… what exactly are you there to protect us all from now? Nothing remains in the North but bones and ice. The Wildlings that will return are now allies, with one of their own in Winterfell." At Jaime's surprised look Tyrion rolled his eyes. "Jon Snow is the Last of the Stark's, his wife is now the Lady of Winterfell all but officially…"

"She is, officially." A voice sounded from behind the pair of Lannisters, and Jaime rose to his feet at the sight of King Lucerys. "Please, sit." Luke gestured, sitting down beside the pair of them. "But Lord Tyrion is right, Jon Snow is now Lord Jon Stark, Warden of the North."

"There, you see." Tyrion clapped. "And thus there is no need of the Night's Watch."

"I am sworn." Jaime countered once more.

Luke sighed. "This is a brand-new start for all of us." He insisted. "Starting with Jon in Winterfell, including the return of your nephew as your heir." He gestured to Tyrion, and Jaime felt a wave of warmth at the thought of Tommen. "Though Myrcella will remain in King's Landing to take her vows."

"There are septs in Lannisport." Tyrion countered.

"There may be, but Tommen is enough." Luke stated firmly. "I meant what I said out there. We are all allies, with bonds forged through the blood of our kin. I have held onto anger for so long, anger at Robert Baratheon, anger at Tywin Lannister, anger at you, Jaime. I used that anger as an excuse to keep the children when they were innocent, but we are in a new world now, and I would start that by showing friendship, though there must be a limit. Myrcella will do well in the Capital, the home of the Faith."

Jaime could see the cogs in Tyrion's head turning as his little brother tried to work a way around the King's words. The Kingslayer himself stayed silent however, simply thinking on Tommen being back at the Rock and how if there was no Night's Watch, he wanted to be there for his son.

"Tommen will return then." Tyrion nodded. "And Jaime? What of the Night's Watch?"

"Dissolved, for now." Luke nodded. "The Wildlings will be given the choice to bend the knee to Jon Stark in the North or to return where they came from, but Castle Black shall be unmanned, the pathways through the Wall opened. If the time comes when we are enemies once more then we shall re-evaluate, but again, I meant what I said."

"Friends with the Wildlings." Tyrion shrugged. "I'll drink to that."

"You'll drink to anything." Jaime rolled his eyes. Tyrion simply grinned and sipped. "So I am free?"

"I hereby release you and all other members of the Night's Watch from their oaths." Luke smiled. "I would suggest that most remain in the North, there will be plenty of work here for the foreseeable future after all. You, however, I have another suggestion."

Jaime was intrigued. "You do?"

"You served my Father until that became untenable." Luke started. "Perhaps you were too young, too rash, to understand the weight of that role back then, but you are not 15 any longer. Ser Franklyn's death leaves an opening on the Kingsguard. If you would agree, I would have you reclaim your white cloak."

It was a huge surprise to both Jaime and Tyrion, and it took the Kingslayer by complete surprise. "Your Grace…" Jaime started. He thought on the honour, knowing now that he had earned his redemption if the son of the King he had killed was offering the White Cloak back… but then he thought on his reason for joining in the first place, Cersei. "I must refuse."

Luke looked surprised momentarily, but smiled. "Very well, I had to ask." The King stood up and drained his cup. "Then, Ser Jaime Lannister. You are free to go where you wish." He held his hand out, and Jaime looked at it in shock for a moment. "We have come a long way, you and I, and I would have us part as friends, having forgiven one another for our actions against our families."

It sounded blissful to his ears, and Jaime rose up to shake Lucerys Targaryen's hand back. "Thank you, Your Grace." Jaime said honestly, emotion creeping into his voice.

Luke simply smiled back. "Lord Tyrion." He nodded in departure, before leaving the pair of Lannister's alone and both in a state of shock.

"Have you forgiven him?" Tyrion asked, breaking the pair's silence. Jaime looked at his brother questioningly as Tyrion rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean… he is the one that killed them…"

Jaime nodded. "It was war, and Cersei…" He sighed. "I love her Tyrion, even now, after all these years of her being gone… I will always love her. But she would have ruined us. When I think to what I have been through these past years, when I think of what would have happened with her and Joffrey leading us… I shudder to think." He sighed. "I will miss her every day until my last day, but I can honour our love by helping to raise our boy, if you will have me at the Rock."

Tyrion's smile was infectious as the Lord of Casterly Rock grinned from ear to ear. "I fought for your life when the Targaryen was at his most murderous, you are always welcome at our home." They tapped their goblets together and both took a large swig of wine, the future now firmly on the pair of their minds.

Over the course of the next fortnight each Lord began to take their men back home. First went the Dornish and the Essosi, eager to leave the cold temperatures of the Northern Winter and return to their warmer climates. Then the Riverlords and the Vale, then the Westerners and Stormlanders, and finally after the worst of the injured were deemed comfortable to travel, the Reach forces departed. Lord Jon Stark was grateful that the King didn't prolong his own departure too, simply reminding Jon that the crown would help with the rebuilding of Winterfell before flying away towards White Harbour with his own men, leaving Jon and the North as the final occupants of Moat Cailin.

His first action as Lord of Winterfell had been to go around the current heads of each House and understanding the losses each had faced, learning that House Flint of Widow's Watch and House Mormont had become all but extinct, whilst Last Hearth, Deepwood Motte, Ironrath and Whitehill were now all led by children. In speaking with the King, Lucerys had agreed that Jon could decide the fate of the empty castles, and so Bear Island was now ruled by Tormund Giantsbane, whilst Widow's Watch was now ruled by former Night's Watch brother Byam Flint, now married to the sister of Mance Rayder's deceased wife.

The North would rebuild, Jon knew, but returning to Winterfell was something that the new Lord was putting off for as long as he possibly could, waiting until most of the Norther Lords had departed themselves. Jon's internal explanation for his hesitance was that he needed to ensure that Rhaegal had taken a sustained flight for hours until they moved, but he knew it was fear at seeing the castle of his birth empty, without Robb or Arya…

Eventually though, the Winterfell contingent departed, bolstered thankfully by most of his former brothers of the Night's Watch that had somehow survived. With Ygritte at his side and both Grenn and Edd beside him, Jon led them Northwards up the Kingsroad, leaving Moat Cailin and the remains of the battleground behind him.

That first journey was a tiring one, but Jon was kept alert often as away from the road in the distance, he kept spotting a large wolf. When they finally stopped to camp, Jon excused himself and took Longclaw, moving his way through the encampment and out into the trees. He was only walking for a couple of minutes when from out of the bushes skulked a Direwolf. Eyes wide, Jon's fingers flexed on his sword, until he realised that the wolf was not aggressive at all, and despite it being years, Jon recognised the fur markings. "Nymeria?" He whispered hoarsely. Nymeria nodded, and Jon choked out a laugh. He moved forwards and dropped to one knee, fussing the Direwolf with both of his hands. "Where have you been?" He asked her. Nymeria meanwhile just nuzzled into Jon affectionately, an action that even Jon wasn't used to with Direwolves. Remembering the words he had heard in the past about Wargs, Jon's eyes widened in realisation as he pulled back, staring at the Direwolf in her eyes. "Arya?"

The Direwolf merely blinked and returned to the nuzzling, and Jon this time wrapped his arms around her fur and held the Direwolf tightly. "I'm so sorry." He whispered. "I love you, sister, you will never be forgotten. None of you will be."

The rest of the group may have been surprised when a Direwolf had added to their party for the journey back to Winterfell, but Jon simply held his smile. It wasn't truly his sister, but a small part of her remained, and it was good enough.

It wasn't until Luke made it to the Vhaegon and managed to lock himself away in his personal quarters that he felt he could truly expel the emotions he had been bottling in since arriving in the North. He looked over at the chest in the corner, the same chest that he had carried with him throughout Essos that housed the history of his family. Reaching beneath his loose-fitting shirt he withdrew the keys, using all three to unlock the trio of locks and opening it. Inside sat the crowns of the Targaryen dynasty, but there was only one that he wanted at that moment.

Pulling out the crown that his mother had worn as Queen, Luke held it tightly to his chest. He remembered giving it to Daenerys the first night they had joined as one, such an intimate night as they had spoken about their mother before losing themselves in one another.

"Why are you gone." He whispered to her, knowing that she could not hear. "I need you…" He sighed, looking down at the slender black gold circlet. "Daeron needs you…" He whispered.

The reality of returning home had started to settle in. "I can't go back and claim him." He knew. "I can't go back and risk everything no matter how much I would honour both you and him… but you will be known as a hero, Dany, and for as long as I live, I shall love you above all else." He pressed his lips gently to the central ruby. "And yet I can never show it."

He placed the crown back in the chest, before then turning to Dark Sister. "I'm a warrior, not a King." He stated bitterly. "I've shown that too often in the past, and that led to your death, you should have stayed behind in Dragonstone, not be forced to join me up here." He wiped away a tear. "But I will be better, in your honour Daenerys. Our son will grow up in a world of peace, where the name Targaryen is respected as much as it is feared." He placed the sword in the chest, staring at the famous pommel that had been held by so many great names. "The prophecy no longer grips me tightly, and I am not shackled by the fear of it. I keep telling those I speak to that this is the start of a new era, and it must be the same for me." He shut the lid. "Goodbye, my love." He whispered almost silently, and as he locked the chest once again, he knew that he needed to lock away his past.

Standing up and looking out to the Narrow Sea Luke knew that he needed to be the change he wanted to see. The past had been written and he could not change it, but as he stared out to sea travelling Southwards back to King's Landing, Margaery and his children, the changes he needed to make became crystal clear, and he would make them for the sake of his House, and his family. The realm had gotten used to a distracted Lucerys Targaryen, but he would ensure that the lives lost getting to this point had not been lost in vain.

My main aim for this chapter was to have the funerals and set up the future some of the characters outside of Luke and Jon. Namely Jaime as he has probably been one of the major characters of this story that is still living.

Jon's speech was the same one from the show. I've transcribed it in a couple of stories already as I really like it, but didn't really see a need here when I'd spent so much time on Luke's own speech. Their own conversation was intended to feel relatively final too. Jon has had an identity crisis in this story, but he's always leaned towards his Stark heritage. Now that he is officially a Stark, he doesn't expect to have too many dealings with Luke.

Jaime however… he's been one of my favourite characters to write. I won't lie originally I had him dying in his final fight last chapter but as I thought about it and went back over his arc, I thought having him survive and be offered the white cloak but turning it down fit a lot better. Now he actually has a chance to be a Father to Tommen and settle back at the Rock.

Then finally, the travel scenes. I really like the idea that the Stark's live on in their Direwolves after death, and seeing as though Nymeria wasn't in the Crypts I could do this rather lovely scene.

The Luke one however… it's a bit of a goodbye to Daenerys. I'll go more into them next chapter as I wrap this story up completely, but Luke truly loved her. This is a firm drawing of a line for Luke now though, or at least it's intended to be…

Thank you all for reading. Next chapter includes something slightly different… but I really like it and it wraps up the story nicely whilst also setting the scene for my sequel.

Next Time: With the Great War won, the eyes of the realm look towards the future…

Reviews:

Hail King Cerion: While it's never nice to make somebody cry, I'm glad my writing can be that impactful if you get what I mean! Arya is one of my favourite characters too and I usually do the same, but this time with what I wanted for Jon he needed to lose everybody to take up the Stark name fully and become the Lord of Winterfell. At the moment the Tyrell OC is the Game of Thrones story that has the most votes, but with the way I'm adding in Reddit it's the Harry Potter story that's leading. With so much already written of the Harry Potter story however I'll likely work on both at the same time so when it comes to it, the Tyrell story will be a consistent upload.

LordDarkness89: I gave her that moment of glory beforehand, but as already stated for Jon's arc in these last 2 chapters and beyond, she needed to die.

rohailq64: I'm glad you liked it! The sequel is being written. It's a small story so I'll probably upload that before anything else, so you shouldn't have long to wait.

DonquixoteMel: Luke will be a Northern hero because of how he risked everything to bring the South up to fight at the Wall earlier in the story as well as bring everybody together to stand against the Dead, that's already an interesting thread I'm pulling in the sequel as that thought isn't shared by the person which I'm writing that story in their POV.

Tony: I've actually written the first 2 chapters of it, so it's already over 20% done. It's set 25 years after Chapter 21, but that's all I'll say…

C.E.W: You're spot on about House Targaryen. As for Ygritte, it will take time for her to adjust and eventually there will be teasing, but for now Jon won't be able to handle much more than mourning and rebuilding.

Zhorvak: They will in time. Time heals all.

Aedwards179: Captain-General is the highest rank in the Golden Company in the books. I doubt it was used in the show but it's a legitimate title.

Cleo9427: I love the North! I'm more often than not being too nice to the Stark's lol. But this story is a Targaryen story and I really wanted Jon to have this identity crisis up until the last moment, and now with the death of his family it's taken out of his hands so he will be forced to pick his maternal side whereas potentially down the line he could have chosen differently.

Derfel Cadarn: I've thought about that plenty and the task of simply setting the world up for them all to exist would be mammoth. I may do that eventually, but it isn't in the plans yet. I've thought a fair bit about the potential Durran/Luke and Roland/Tyland interactions before!