"What is it you people want?" Qhorin asked gruffly.
The new Lord Commander of the Night's Watch had wasted little time in asserting his dominance over the castle. The few remaining loyalists to Thorne were immediately brought to heel and placed in positions where they could be watched by more capable, trustworthy men. The other brothers simply did as they were told and fell in line behind their new leader. Halfhand was not a man who suffered stupidity or disobedience easily.
Now Ned and Mance stood alone in Qhorin's new office. The conversation was truly between the former King-Beyond-the-Wall and the Lord Commander. Ned was there simply to observe and speak when needed as he was a respected figure to both men.
"Peace," Mance said simply. "I want no more blood to be spilled, especially if we're all to fight together against the Others."
"Lord Stark, how have the….free folk behaved?" Qhorin asked.
"They've adapted well," Ned said easily. "They may not live by westerosi rules, but they respect them enough to not break them."
Qhorin nodded. "I am not Thorne. I will not doubt your word." the grizzled ranger glanced at the parchment at his side before continuing. "Are you willing to show that you want peace, Rayder?"
"I am," Mance said immediately.
"There are multiple castles along the Wall that require repair and men to hold them." Qhorin explained. "If I were to give your people three of these castles, are you confident that they could be fixed and manned?"
"I'd say so," Mance said confidently. "What three castles do you have in mind?"
"Long Barrow, Hoarfrost Hill, and Woodswatch-by-the-Pool." Qhorin answered. "I believe those castles will suit your people well."
"You have enough men here to garrison another castle, Qhorin," Ned commented.
"Aye, that's true, but I would need a commander I can trust." Halfhand said bitterly. "Many of the men trusted by the Old Bear dispersed themselves between Eastwatch and the Shadowtower. I'll need to take stock of who I have here before deciding to man another fortress."
Ned shrugged. "Fair enough."
"I'll trust you to name the commanders of the castles, Mance." Qhorin said. "But if there's an ounce of trouble from them, we'll have words."
"I'll make it known," Mance promised. He turned towards Ned. "It seems your work here is done, Lord Stark. The free folk and the Night's Watch have finally found common ground."
"It came at a cost," Qhorin grunted, "but Rayder is correct."
"Then my presence is no longer required," Ned said. "I will return to Winterfell and prepare the North for both the winter and the war. I will see you both when my son calls upon the realm."
Mance clasped arms with the northern lord. "I hope that I do not see you for a long while, my lord, but we both know that will not happen."
"No, but I have enjoyed my time among the free folk," Ned said, genuine with his words. "Although...wild," he said with a smile on his face, "they are otherwise honorable and brave people."
"Perhaps one day they may be your people, my lord," Mance said, "but that is a discussion for another time."
Ned clasped arms with Qhorin next. "I hold no ill will against Thorne, despite the atrocities against my family, but I would be lying if I said that I welcome the sight of a new man leading the watch."
"Between me and you, my lord, I would much prefer your brother in this seat." Qhorin admitted. "But I will do my duty to the Watch and lead the buggers for as long as I can."
"I'm sure if Ben were here, he would feel as confident as I do now that you are Lord Commander," Ned replied. "I leave in the morning, and collect the rest of my men as I pass through the Gift. We will see each other again, I'm sure, and hopefully, when this nightmare ends, we will drink together in victory."
"A grand hope, my lord," Mance said. "One that I think many will end up sharing."
Line Break
"Lord Stark, wait!" Mance called, striding up to where Ned was mounting up.
Ned folded his hands over the saddle as the wildling lord approached. Mance put a hand on Ned's horse's neck, catching his breath. It was clear that he had rushed from wherever he was to catch Ned before he left.
"Something wrong?" Ned asked curiously.
"I'm unsure," Mance answered. "I nearly forgot. There's another group of clansmen that have set up camp alongside Mother Mole's men."
"Clansmen?" Ned asked. "Are you sure?"
"They're not my people, my lord," Mance said.
"There's only one place they could've come from, but I will believe it when I see it," Ned grunted. "Why wait till now to tell me?"
"I just learned about it when we got word of the attack on the king," Mance said. "Didn't seem to be the right time to tell you."
Ned nodded. "Very well. I will meet with these clansmen and find out why they're here."
"Where do you suppose they've come from?" Mance asked.
"I suspect the Vale," Ned answered, "but from what I understand, they lost many of their warriors fighting for the Lannisters. I can't imagine why they're up here or even how they managed to get this far north. They're jealous guardians of their lands in the Vale."
"They're First Men descendants, aren't they?" Mance asked, a thoughtful look on his face. "They must've fought against the Others during the first Long Night."
"Aye, that's an idea." Ned nodded. "I'll speak to them and find out the truth. I'll send word when I do."
"Thank you, Lord Stark," Mance said, walking away.
Sansa Stark
Even though it had been years since Sansa has been to the capitol, she was thankful that it had changed from the stinking, wretched city that she had first seen it as. The largest improvement, in her eyes, was that the stench that usually hung over the city was now gone, replaced with the pleasant breeze from the ocean carrying all manner of lively smells from the city. She also spotted several areas throughout the city where construction was occurring, although the young woman couldn't figure out what was being built.
As soon as she caught sight of the Red Keep, she bit her lip as dark, terrible memories flooded her mind. Although she had grown stronger since leaving the city and her tormentors far behind, she was still haunted by nightmares. Joffrey and Cersei had left their marks on her, and she was sure that they would stay with her for many more years.
"Steady yourself," Sandor grunted quietly, riding behind the red-haired girl. "They're dead and gone. Leave their ghosts in the grave."
Harry leaned over and grabbed Sansa's hand gently. "Clegane is right, my love. Block the evil thoughts from your mind. They have no place among your fond memories."
Sansa smiled at the handsome youth before giving the same look to her sworn sword. "Thank you, both of you, but I am fine."
Harry returned the smile while Sandor just grunted.
Sansa and Harry rode at the head of a long column of lords, knights, and servants. The nobles of the Vale had been summoned to King's Landing at Benjen Stark's request. Some had chosen to sail to the city from Gulltown on the southern end of the Vale, while others had assembled at the Bloody Gate before riding out. It had been a coincidence that Sansa and Harry had run into them.
The company made good time reaching the city, and when they were close, a small party emerged from around the city walls, flying the banner of the crown: a grey direwolf with a gold crown around its neck. Riding at their head was a warrior in white armor and a flowing white cloak. Sansa also spotted the spiked ball of a morning star hanging from his hip.
Harry held up his hand, bringing their column to a stop as they waited for the other group to come closer.
"Lord Arryn, Lady Sansa," the kingsguard said kindly. "Welcome back to King's Landing."
"Ser Balon, is it not?" Harry said. "Thank you for the welcome."
"The queen asks that you follow me into the city. We will go through the mud gate." Ser Balon said. "It's a shorter path to the Red Keep."
"We will heed the queen's wishes. Lead on." Harry responded.
The Vale party followed the kingsguard, skirting around the northern wall of the city towards the west. Eventually, the Blackwater rush came into sight and the gate at its edge opened wide for the group. Men in gold cloaks bowed as they passed.
Harry held Sansa's hand the entire time they rode, and although the action was kind, Sansa had taken the two men's advice to heart and had attacked her dark thoughts, throwing them out. She could not afford to dwell on the past, not again. She had learned her lessons and she needed to have her eyes on the future.
"Ser, what is being built?" Sansa asked Ser Balon.
"The queen has hired a Volantene architect to make some improvements to the city, my lady." Ser Balon answered as they rode. "Queen Margaery has much she wants to do to bring prosperity and happiness to King's Landing, and she has attacked this goal wholeheartedly."
"I expect nothing less from my goodsister," Sansa said with a smile. "She's always had her heart set on helping others."
"She is eager to see you again, my lady." Ser Balon said as the group approached the gates leading into the Red Keep. "She should be waiting for us here in the courtyard."
The stormlander knight was proven correct when Sansa caught sight of Margaery waiting patiently for them in the courtyard, another kingsguard, her steward, two others flanking her. She felt Harry tighten his grip slightly when the small group came into view, a giant smile spread across his face.
As soon as the group rode through the gates and came to a stop, Margaery was the first at Sansa's side as she dismounted, throwing her arms around her goodsister. Sansa returned the embrace enthusiastically, having to bend over slightly as she was quite taller than the queen.
"It's so good to see you again, sister," Margaery said, pulling back and smiling from ear to ear. "I have missed you so much."
"Thank you, your grace," Sansa replied with a short bow.
Margaery glanced at Sansa's attire. "I never took you for a rider."
Patted the neck of her mount affectionately. "I was forced to ride when I was touring the Vale. It's very impossible to get a carriage anywhere there. I see why men like my brothers enjoy it. There's a certain freedom when you're in the saddle compared to being confined to a carriage."
"My brother Willas gave me a beautiful mount a year ago as a gift for Torrhen's birth. Perhaps, if there's time, we can go for a ride." Margaery suggested.
Sansa bowed again. "I would like that."
Margaery turned to face Harry, who was similarly wrapping up his warm greetings with Lord Royce and Lady Anya, two nobles with whom he was very close. He knelt at Margaery's feet, his head bowed.
"Your grace," he said respectfully.
"Stand, Lord Arryn." Margaery said, "and be welcome."
Harry stood and smiled. "I'm always happy to see so many friendly faces. My betrothed and I have been on the road for some time and it will be good for us to get some proper rest."
"Oh?" Margaery asked. "I was unaware. I thought that you came straight from the Eyrie."
Harry bowed his head. "Forgive me, my lady. Sansa and I were on our way back from Winterfell when we came across a group of lords and ladies preparing to ride here. We were unaware that they had been summoned by Benjen Stark."
"Winterfell, you say?" Lord Royce asked curiously, tugging gently on his beard. "Did you see Benjen when you were there?"
"We did," Harry said solemnly. "It's just as foul as you imagine."
Margaery clapped her hands. "Lord Harrold, sister, perhaps we should have a private dinner tonight. I believe we have much to discuss."
Line Break
"That's all, Margaery," Sansa said, finishing up her and Harry's story. It had started with Sansa encountering the clansmen of the Vale and ended with them reaching the Bloody Gate. She had left nothing out and even went into as much detail as she could when explaining the appearance of the wight.
Margaery tapped her finger thoughtfully against the base of her chalice. The trio had enjoyed a delicious meal of grilled beef, a salad mixed with herbs and dressed in oil, and plenty of fresh bread and butter. It was a refreshing and delicious, but surprisingly simple meal.
"While I understand your confusion, Sansa, I believe I understand why the wildmen of the Vale have gone north," Margaery said finally. "They are First Men, are they not? They refused to bend the knee when the Andals took over the region."
"They are," Harry said, "but how did they get north? Does Lord Stark know that they're there?"
"At this point, it's not a problem," Margaery replied. "More swords and spears to guard the realm when the Others attack."
"Where is Robb?" Sansa asked.
"He's gone north to take a look at the land," Margaery said sadly. "I hope and pray that he returns soon. There's so much that's….happened."
Sansa frowned. "Margaery, what's wrong?"
The red-haired girl was well-versed in protocol and titles, but using 'your grace' at this moment and time didn't seem right.
"There was an attack on me and my child a while back while Robb was in the North," Margaery said, still clearly troubled by it. "Torrhen and I are safe, thanks to the valor of various individuals. It took me some time to overcome the memories of the night."
Sansa reached over and grabbed her hand in support. "You and Torrhen are alive, sister. Take heart in that."
"Have the assassins been brought to justice?" Harry asked.
"They have." Margaery nodded. "It was….they were corrupted."
"Through money? Blackmail?" Harry asked.
Margaery shook her head. "No, it was magic! I have no other way of explaining it."
Sansa glanced at Harry, the two sharing an unspoken message. After what they had seen in Winterfell, some things that were hard to explain still made sense to the young couple.
"You're alive," Sansa said again. "That's all Robb will care about."
"Thank you," Margaery said, wiping away unshed tears. "Forgive me, I thought I had moved past these emotions."
"It's perfectly natural, your grace," Harry said reassuringly. "I've spoken with men who fought in Robert's Rebellion, the Greyjoy Rebellion, and the War of the Five Kings. Grizzled veterans, one and all. They shed tears when reminiscing about past sights and experiences."
Margaery smiled at the young valeman. "Thank you, my lord. Your words are very kind. I can not tell you how happy I am to have you both here in the city. It has been so long since I have seen family." she gave a slight nod to Harry. "And future family."
Sansa squeezed Margaery's hand. "We have much more time to catch up. Perhaps a walk in the gardens tomorrow?"
Margaery nodded happily. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Tyrion Lannister
Tyrion reread the message from Maester Creylen. The maester's handwriting was shaky, but thankfully very direct. Many of the lords of the Westerlands have seen the wight, and Creylen promised that every prominent lord in the west was in attendance when the First Ranger showed his dark prize.
The Hand sighed and cast the letter aside before immediately grabbing his cup and draining the rest of the wonderfully sour liquid. He never got drunk like he once did, he had too much to do, too many people counting on him. Unlike his father, Robb and Margaery gave Tyrion things to do, and he embraced each challenge with a cup of wine in his hand and a thousand thoughts floating through his brain.
Tyrion hopped out of his seat and walked over to the fire crackling happily in the corner, throwing another small log into the flames before poking them with the iron poker. Ever since he had learned of the Long Night, he began to truly notice just how cold it was becoming. The door opened and closed quietly, heralding the entrance of someone new.
"I hope you're not an assassin," Tyrion said, not looking at his guest. "I would hate to die without being properly drunk and it's been such a long time since I've felt the comfort of the opposite sex."
"Do you think I have the skills to be an assassin, my lord?" a soft, curious voice asked.
Tyrion turned to find a tall, beautiful, red-haired woman standing just inside the doorway. She wore a floor-length blue cloak over a blue and white dress. Her hair was braided and fell over one shoulder. Just like her mother, Sansa Stark always managed to hold herself with an enormous amount of grace and poise.
"My lady," Tyrion said, waddling back over to his chair and gesturing for the young girl to sit across from him. "Can I offer you some refreshments?"
Sansa shook her head. "No, thank you. I just wished to see how you were."
Tyrion spread his arms over his desk. "I won't lie, I never thought anything would be harder than dealing with Joffrey and my sister. Your brother and his wife are challenging that belief. I wager they had a thousand ideas in a day, and I have yet to hear a bad one."
Sansa smiled and sat across from her former protector. "Yes, Robb has broken the mold of my family. I'm sure that you've heard that Starks don't thrive in the south."
"The king hasn't just broken the mold, my lady, he's chucked it into the Blackwater and it's floating towards Volantis as we speak!" Tyrion joked with a smile. "Although your appearance is greatly appreciated, I can't help but wonder if you need something of me."
Sansa shook her head. "I simply wished to see you."
Tyrion raised an eyebrow, his smile growing. "Well, I'm doing very well, my dear. The king and queen keep me very busy, but rebuilding the realm after years of neglect is no easy task." he shook his head in wonder. "This is perhaps the first time I've been around a man who truly looks and acts like a king. It's quite a feeling, I assure you."
"You have great admiration for him," Sansa noted. "I've never heard you speak so dearly about anyone but your wine and your brother."
Tyrion grinned and raised his glass. "Your skill has grown since we last saw each other. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've been taking lessons from the Queen of Thorns."
Sansa smiled thinly. "Unfortunate effect of my time here."
Tyrion's grin faded. "Yes, I'm not sure if anyone walked away from Joffrey's reign without some sort of issue."
"Sandor Clegane seems fine." Sansa countered.
Tyrion grunted. "Fair point. But the man seems impervious to all but fire."
"He's a cat among birds in the Vale," Sansa said. "A hound, actually."
Tyrion chuckled as the two fell into a comfortable silence. He was truly glad to see the girl and that she had healed from the wounds inflicted upon her by Joffrey and Cersei. She was a good girl at her core, all Starks seemed to be, and Tyrion couldn't help but sympathize with her. Now, she looked stronger than ever and far more confident than he could ever imagine her being. Not only has she healed, but she seems to have learned from her past mistakes and naivety as well, using the cruel lessons Cersei taught her and using them to her advantage, only without the blonde woman's bite.
"How is your betrothed treating you?" Tyrion asked, making idle conversation.
"Harry has been splendid," Sansa replied without hesitation, "a true gentleman."
"I am glad to hear it," Tyrion said. "You deserve all the happiness in the world, my dear, and I mean it. You may not have fought in your brother's war, but you paid a price few did."
Sansa nodded slightly. "I would have paid a much steeper price if not for your care, my lord."
"Tyrion, please," Tyrion said. "We're two friends alone. Speak as freely as you wish. With Varys gone, the walls have lost dozens of ears and eyes."
"Tyrion," Sansa said carefully. "If there is some way I can ever repay you for your kindness, then I would do it in an instant."
Tyrion shook his head. "I have all I need. Respect from my peers and a chance to change the realm for the better."
Sansa got up from her seat, soothing invisible wrinkles on her dress as she did. "You deserve every accolade, Tyrion. Truly."
With that said, Sansa gave a slight bow and a beautiful smile before exiting the room, leaving a touched and happy Tyrion behind.
Jon Stark
"You look like you're thinking of someone," Daenerys said, her tone laced with amusement.
The northern ship that carried Jon, Daenerys, and her two knights south had passed by the Vale a few days ago and now they were only a day from reaching the volcanic island. The captain, a gruff man named Cullen, had complained to Jon about how rough the seas were, but his complaints had subsided the further south they traveled and the waves settled down.
Jon didn't mind being on a ship. He enjoyed the smell of the salt air and the wind on his face. The rolling and pitching of the ground below him didn't cause him any problems. He had been on the back of a horse as it slipped and slid through the muck of a battlefield. The movement of the ship as gentle waves passed beneath it was nothing he couldn't handle.
One thing he did mind was that he was always in close contact with the Lady of Dragonstone.
"Something like that," Jon grunted, turning to face the woman. "I didn't lose many friends in the last war. I'm wondering how many I'll see at the end of this one."
"You Starks are always so full of happy thoughts," Daenerys joked, coming to stand beside him.
"Our house words are 'Winter is Coming'," Jon replied, crossing his arms as he leaned against the railing. "We're not known for happy thoughts."
"No, you're known for much more than that if the history of your House means anything," Daenerys said. "How confident are you that your brother will see us all through this?"
"We can do no better," Jon said. "He'll do whatever he can to make sure we win."
"How do you know?" Daenerys asked, looking at him.
Jon turned and met her gaze without flinching. "Because he let you find out about me," he said simply. "If Robb or my father didn't think that it was worth it for you to know who I was, then you wouldn't have found out."
"I have my ways," Daenerys said, her words coming out as a half-joke.
Jon let out a short bark of laughter and shook his head. "My father kept me hidden from his best friend, the king, his spymaster who was really working for you, the deadliest man in Westeros, Tywin Lannister, and the other spy networks that branched out from King's Landing. Even if you held a sword to his throat, my father would never have given me up."
"I'm sure my dragons would have gotten a confession from him," Daenerys said confidently, but again, Jon scoffed.
"You would have gotten nothing but a pile of blackened bones," Jon replied.
"What if someone attacked his people? Would he allow innocent people to die for him?" Daenerys asked.
"Have you ever loved someone?" Jon asked, changing the conversation.
Daenerys nodded, her eyes watering slightly, forcing her to turn away. She quickly wiped them away before properly answering Jon's question, although it was already clear to him that she once had someone in her life whom she loved and who obviously loved her.
"My Sun and Stars," she answered softly.
"What would you do to keep something that they had given to you safe? What lengths would you go to in order to protect a secret of theirs? How much money would you be willing to pay to see them again?" Jon asked gently. "My father loved his sister. He had lost his father, brother, and sister in one war, and all he came back with was their bones and me."
"I see your point," Daenerys said, obviously eager to end the conversation.
Jon looked at the girl. She was around the same age as him, but when he looked into her eyes, he saw so much more. Daenerys had lived a hard life far from her home and with less family than Jon. Whoever her 'Sun and Stars' had been, they clearly meant a lot to her and their passing still hit her hard. Jon hadn't lived an easy life, not when he had the title of bastardy hanging over his head, but it was nowhere near as bad as Daenerys's.
Jon sighed and turned so that he was looking out over the sea. "You're right. We Starks are full of happy thoughts."
Daenerys chuckled. "Can't say I blame you, all things considered."
Jon glanced up at the moon. "We should find our beds. We'll reach Dragonstone in the morning and we have a lot of work to do."
Daenerys nodded as she walked away from the railing.
"Goodnight, Daenerys," Jon called after her.
"Call me Dany," Daenerys called back, looking over her shoulder at him. "Goodnight, Jon."