Chapter 5 - Chapter 5: The Faces we Show, The Faces we Hide

Kings Landing 302 AC.

Cersei.

It had all been going so well, she'd been crowned, Jaime had returned and Euron Greyjoy was so desperate for her favor that he was promising her whatever it was that her heart desired. That she wasn't truly sure what it was that her heart desired only made his promise seem that much more exciting. The idea that he would actually be able to surprise and delight her was one that she both shrugged off and longed for at the same time.

Word then came from the North, a new King, and another wolf to see dead and she had almost considered sending Euron and the Iron Fleet there with orders to bring him its pelt. The wish to do so was then exacerbated when she found out that Sansa Stark was there too. That she lived and breathed still while her precious baby boy did not. She quietened down the part of her that said she was better off with Joffrey gone. The loud voice in her head that told her she'd not be queen was her son still alive. Just as she had when they found Tommen's body, she now ignored that voice and tried instead to listen to the one that mourned for each of her children.

Instead, though she went deeper inside of herself and the voice she'd always heard was speaking to her once more. Younger and More Beautiful it would say and she had always done whatever she had needed to ensure there was no one who could be considered such. From Melara Hetherspoon to Margaery Tyrell and soon she'd see Sansa Stark in the ground as well. She'd just about decided that this would be what she wished for, that this was what her heart truly desired when it happened. The news came which made her fearful and changed all her plans.

"Lord Greyjoy? She asked Qyburn who shook his head.

"Had not returned, my queen."

"Jaime?"

"Is off with Ser Bronn seeing to our defenses and stocks," Qyburn said and she smiled at that, Jaime being here allowed her to not need to worry about such mundane and yet important tasks and to concentrate on those that she wished to.

"What other news have you for me, Lord Hand?" she asked a moment later.

"Word from Dragonstone, my queen. Daenerys Targaryen and her armies have landed." Qyburn said and Cersei felt her breathing grow quicker.

Younger and More Beautiful.

"She brings allies with her too, my queen. Along with the Dothraki and Unsullied, my little birds tell me that Lord Varys and Lord Tyrion have sailed with her."

The Imp, the Little Monster, he lived, curse the damn seven for letting him live while taking her children from her. Of course, he had allied with the Dragon Bitch, it was who he was after all. An opportunist who had always hated her because she was what he was not, her father's true heir.

"Along with Lady Ellaria Sand and her girls and Lady Olenna Tyrell." Qyburn continued.

The damn snakes, she should have had them killed after the Mountain had crushed Oberyn's head into a pulp. She was too merciful, far too merciful, and had they still been here when her father died then she'd not have been, but they left right away and now they and the rest of those fucking sand dwellers had risen against her. As for the withered old cunt, gods if only she'd been in the Great Sept with the rest of her grasping family.

"Has the rest of the Reach joined with the Tyrell cunt?" she asked to a shake of Qyburn's head "Dorne?"

"Will rise now that Prince Doran is no more, my queen."

"And the Dragon Bitch, how large is her army?"

"More than a hundred thousand strong, my queen. Made up mainly of Dothraki Screamers along with Unsullied spearmen. If she is able to bring the Reach along with Dorne to bear, they'd be adding more than half that number again."

"Find my brother and Lord Greyjoy, and let me know what other news you gather," she said dismissively.

"The dragons, my queen. We needs must do something about the dragons most of all."

"And what can we do about them, Lord Hand?" she asked and he smiled at her before nodding.

"Leave that to me, my queen."

It took some time for Jaime to be found and she was on the verge of losing her temper when he did come, only her need for him both physically and emotionally stopping her from doing so. She explained to him about the Dragon Bitch and who was with her and was glad to see his anger rise at the mention of the Imp. His feelings for the thing that named himself their brother had finally come around and now matched her own. When she spoke on the withered old cunt from Highgarden, he told her there was a chance the Reach wouldn't join in with her and he then left her alone, so he could go speak to Randyll Tarly.

Within a few days, he was gone and she was left alone once more, only for Euron Greyjoy to then arrive and to speak to her. Once again he promised that he would give her what her heart truly desired and this time she'd promised herself to him should he be able to give it to her. Then he too was gone and it was to an empty bed she'd go to at night. Her thoughts were troubled and robbed her of her ability to sleep properly as did the dreams she had when she did sleep. For days it was like this, no news from Jaime or Euron, no movement from the Dragon Bitch or answer to her raven from Winterfell. Her days were mundane and boring and she could almost forget that outside the walls of King's Landing, her enemies were conspiring against her.

"My queen, my queen." Qyburn's voice called out and she looked up from the table she'd been sitting at and to the empty jug of wine, wondering had she truly drank it all.

"Lord Hand?"

"Lord Greyjoy and the Iron Fleet have returned, my queen. He bears gifts." Qyburn said more excitedly than she ever remembered seeing him before.

She hurried to the Throne Room, her hair being so short meant there was little she needed to do to make herself presentable and in her own excitement over what Euron may bring her, she was no longer in her cups. Taking her seat on the Iron Throne, she sat regally and awaited his entrance and when he did and she saw who he brought with him, she almost swooned. He had known, somehow he had known and understood and for the first time in moons, the smile she wore was full and true.

"I bring you the thing your heart desires most of all, my queen. I bring you vengeance," he said as she barely heard his words so focussed was she on the two women he had bound in front of her.

"Your queen is most pleased by your gifts, Lord Greyjoy, most pleased," she said as she rose to her feet and moved to Ellaria and her daughter, Tyene.

"I'm afraid I could only bring you these two, my queen. The other two were more trouble than they were worth, but rest assured they did suffer and their bodies now grace the ship they sailed upon." Euron said with a laugh that she didn't join in with.

"We shall have such fun together, Lady Ellaria, I have so many things I wish to see done to you." she said softly before moving to Tyene "And even more so to you, little one."

Gifts earn rewards and while she'd have much preferred to keep Euron waiting, she knew she could not. There were only so many times the promise of sex would keep a man at bay and Euron had reached that limit long before now. It was only that she was a queen and he desired even more than simply what was between her legs or she'd have lost his favor by now. Still laying with him was not unpleasant if a little rougher than she truly liked. It earned her even more time and the look in his eye when he dressed and left her alone promised that his wish to lay with her again would keep him by her side for as long as she needed him.

Despite feeling tired she made her way to the cells where Ellaria and Tyene were chained on opposite walls facing each other. She'd thought long and hard about the best and most suitable punishment for them both. From letting Ser Robert Strong have his fun with Tyene while Ellaria watched to allowing Qyburn to cut them both apart piece by piece. She'd considered having all her guards take them one after the other until finally their bodies or hearts could take no more and yet none of it felt right and so for now they'd remained untouched.

"So many things I intend to do to you both, I bid you rest easy for tomorrow is when our fun begins," she said as she looked at them both in the cells, the giggle she gave as she walked away was the same one she'd made as a young girl while walking from a well.

Fate though is a funny thing and the gods have their own plans, plans that even a queen such as she had to give precedence to. The next day and the next were filled with work, preparations, and with Qyburn bidding her be more cautious about her next move. She had lost her temper with him and had threatened to take his pin from him only to immediately backtrack as he spoke to her on the news he'd gotten from Dragonstone. The news that meant rather than Ellaria and her bastard daughter, it was another bastard that she found herself concentrating on.

"Why would Jon Snow travel to Dragonstone?" she asked.

"Perhaps to seek an alliance with Daenerys Targaryen, my queen."

"The North would never align themselves with the Dragon Bitch." she said dismissively, and yet looking to her Hand she could see he didn't believe her words or at least didn't share in the truthfulness of them.

"I've heard strange tales about Jon Snow and his time at the Wall, my queen. They say he allied with the Wildings. That as Lord Commander of the Night's Watch he allowed Wildings through the Wall and together they marched and took Winterfell from the Bastard of Bolton." Qyburn said and she looked at him worriedly.

"Should House Stark ally with House Targaryen…"

"It would set a dangerous precedent, my queen. Most would believe as you do and doubt it would ever come to pass, but should House Stark make common ground, should they forgive the events of the past. Then other houses would look more favorably on Daenerys Targaryen too."

"He was Lord Commander of the Night's Watch was he not?" she asked and Qyburn nodded "Are not their vows for life?"

"They are, my queen. Though some say Jon Snow fulfilled his vows, I've had no luck in finding out more as of yet."

"It matters not, send word that Jon Snow abandoned the Night's Watch and is to be treated like any traitor should be," she said and Qyburn nodded before rising to his feet.

"There is something else, my queen. The reports we got about the Knights of the Vale riding to the North's aid, seem to be true. I've received word that Littlefinger is closely allied with the Starks and it's he who through Lord Arryn controls the Vale."

She felt her breath hitch, another who she should have seen dead many years earlier. The conversation she had with him when she showed him how true power could be wielded coming to her mind and she felt that now she should have played it to its end.

"Can your little birds get a message to Littlefinger?" she asked and Qyburn nodded bringing a smile to her face, most men had a price, and Littlefinger's though steep would be a price worth paying.

Her thoughts for the next few days were on the Bastard of Winterfell and trying to remember what she could of him. She'd not seen him in Winterfell when they visited and had not given him a second thought other than briefly considering sending someone to the Wall to kill him. Again she cursed herself for her restraint and for not giving in to her urges and just as she did so, she remembered the other urges she had not given into. Rising to her feet she readied to go and finally gain vengeance for Myrcella. Only for once again Qyburn to stop her before she could do what needed to be done.

"What do you mean they have Jaime?" she asked incredulously.

"Ser Jaime's feint didn't work, my queen. He and our armies were attacked by Daenerys Targaryen and her dragons and…"

"The scorpions, you told me that the scorpions would bring the dragons down," she shouted accusingly.

"And they would have, my queen. I can only wager they were caught so by surprise that they never got to use them, or that they were destroyed by chance in the first attack."

"Jaime, by the seven, not again," she said collapsing onto her chair as thoughts of what parts they'd take from her other half before returning him threatened to overwhelm her.

"They seek a trade, my queen. Ser Jaime for our own prisoners." Qyburn said stopping her from giving in to her despair.

"All of them?" she asked angrily.

"All of them, my queen."

She nodded her head, annoyed and angered as she was by what she was giving up, it was more than worth it for what she was getting in return. The thoughts of her vengeance slipping from her fingers though was more than she was willing to accept and so before Qyburn had made it to the door she called out for him.

"Qyburn. That poison, the one you said was used on Myrcella, the Long Goodbye."

"The Long Farewell, my queen."

"How long does it take to work?" she asked and worried though she was about her love, her twin, her other half, vengeance was something she desired just as much and she was a Lannister, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, who out there was able to tell her she could not have both.

Winterfell, 302 AC

Sansa Stark.

She was sweating so hard and could feel her clothes stick on her body, but despite her disgust, she felt that she had made the right choice. She would never get used to wearing leather breeches but she might admit that it was the best outfit to train in.

While she was making progress wielding a dagger or a knife, she couldn't count how many times Arya had shaken her head and smirked at her. Her sister noting that they'd finally found something that she suffered at. She took her teasing in stride, enjoying those moments spent with her… And Rickon.

Her brother had been so relieved to see her in the sparring yard the day after their discussion that he spent his time presenting each and every weapon to her before Arya's arrival. She felt a sword was too heavy, contrary to the Valyrian dagger Arya gave her. She couldn't believe her sister had made the gesture, and so it prompted her to accept trying some lessons with it.

She was catching her breath in a corner of the yard, watching the others train with more diverse weapons when she heard a loud yell from behind her. Panic overwhelmed her as she saw someone raising a stick to her as if they were attacking her. With a yell, she ran away as fast as she could, only stopping when she heard her name being called out.

"Sansa! You cannot run away yelling in the face of a battle!" Arya sighed loudly.

"Someone was attacking me!"

"And you should have defended yourself, silly."

"I… I panicked…"

"You need to get over your fears and confront your enemy head-on. Will you try, sister?" Arya asked, her tone a little softer now.

"I will," she said and took her blunt dagger in hand, waiting for the attacker to make his move.

It came from her right side and she was ready for it. The assailant moved to hit her back but she parried the strike away and almost hit him before being tripped and falling to the ground.

"Ouch! That's not fair!" she whined as the mysterious attacker helped her up.

"Life is not fair, sweet sister!"

"You! You little… you tripped me!" she exclaimed while Rickon laughed as he pulled his hood down.

"Aye, and I will do so again and again until you manage to stay on your feet!" he said, grinning widely.

While part of her had been embarrassed to have so many people see her humiliating fall, she was glad to see that Rickon wanted to be involved in her training. The words he'd spoken to her a few days earlier were still remembered fondly.

" As I said, I don't like you much right now, but you're my family and I don't wish to see you die."

She grabbed a handful of snow and threw it at her brother's face, but Rickon was quicker and his laugh resonated around the yard when she then found her own face full of snow.

"You should work on your reflexes, Sansa!" he joked as her annoyance grew.

"I'll show you reflexes, you little brat" she mumbled, getting up from the ground.

"Why, Sansa, threatening young ones is unbecoming of a Lady."

"You're the King and you've been unbecoming from the start."

"There, sister. I think I like you better like this." Rickon giggled.

"Stop messing around, Your Grace. I need to train my sister properly now." Arya said sternly, but Sansa could see her smirk through her scolding.

Rickon bowed to them and ran back to his own training with the Free Folk.

"He's never been so carefree with me before," Sansa admitted, smiling fondly as her mind still tried to process that she just had a conversation with her brother that didn't involve crying nor yelling.

"Maybe it's because you've listened to him for once? Even though I've given you no choice on the matter…"

"You think so?"

"He's the King in the North, Sansa. He has to worry about everyone's safety, including yours. Even if you didn't believe him, you should have thought about that. Being muddy is a small price to pay compared to his peace of mind, don't you think?"

They had talked a lot the day of Arya's arrival. The two sisters not really telling their stories but wanting to spend time together. They talked about their childhood, their regrets, and the fact that the pack was reunited once again. That Arya was willing to protect her family was heartwarming, even if Sansa had a hard time reconciling the uncouth girl she knew with the supposed skilled assassin who had disposed of the Freys. She had tried to ask Arya more on the subject, but her sister's response didn't help her at all.

" Trust me, there are things you are better not knowing about me, and this is one of them."

Arya's past intrigued her, even more so since she saw her spar with Brienne. Her sworn shield was good with a blade, but Arya was better. She was quick to think and to act and her style was far from the more precise one that she saw in tourneys and the sparring yards. Sansa had been surprised to learn that her dance lessons in King's Landing were in truth sword lessons.

"Father really paid for your sword lessons?"

"Aye, with the First Sword of Braavos, Syrio Forel."

"So, all the time you were chasing cats for your dance lessons…"

"I didn't lie! He was teaching me the Water Dance, which is an Essosi style of fighting."

"By the gods… To think I thought you were strange… I can't believe Father paid for this and never told anyone." she said while shaking her head.

"You would have thrown a fit had you known. You would have probably ranted about how I was out to ruin your life with my unladylike pursuits." Arya chuckled while Sansa tensed, her heart aching thinking back to the way she had treated her sister. "Father knew I wasn't that kind of Lady and he encouraged me. He told me once that the Ladies from Bear Island were fierce warriors and that his sister wanted to be like them."

"Aunt Lyanna? He never spoke of her with me." she said sadly.

"Oh, it was just once. I don't remember if I wanted to decapitate your doll or place horse shit in your pillow."

"ARYA!"

"Anyway, Father caught me in the act and told me to be nicer to you. I just remember him saying that there were two kinds of Ladies, those from the South and those from the North. That you were made for the South and that you would thrive there, while I would be defending the North with the Mormonts and the Karstarks because I was made to withstand winter and I had Aunt Lyanna's spirit." Arya said, the last part even proudly to Sansa's surprise.

"I'm not made for the South. Not anymore."

"Maybe not, but there is still a lot of Southern Lady in you, Sansa. You cannot claim to be from the North and refuse to learn how to defend yourself."

"Mother was the Lady of Winterfell and she didn't know how to fight." she retorted defensively.

"Mother was as Northern as I am Cersei Lannister."

"She was.."

"A follower of the Seven who didn't want her children, the children of the Warden of the North, to learn about the Old Gods. You follow the Seven, too, right? The Northern Lords will never see you as anything other than a Southern Lady with Stark blood because of it."

"Do you keep to the Old Gods?" she asked curiously.

"Once, but now I follow only one god, and his name is Death."

Arya had quickly changed the subject but Sansa kept thinking about that conversation for a long time afterward. She knew what the Northern Lords were thinking about her. Her spats with Lyanna Mormont all but showing how little they considered her opinions, not because she was a woman, but because of her previous actions. She had blamed it on her naive ways and Littlefinger manipulating her, but she realized that her desire to go home was what led her to accept all that she'd endured. She was certain that once she would have Winterfell back, she would have felt safe and her sufferings would be justified, but she was wrong. The looming threat of Cersei, Daenerys Targaryen, and the Army of the Dead was upon her and she had never felt as powerless as she did at that moment. Her only consolation was being reunited with her family and even that hadn't gone how she had imagined it would.

"My Lady, I must say that I'm impressed by your progress in the field." Littlefinger said from behind her.

She shivered and plastered a fake smile on her face. Littlefinger was even more present at her side now that Arya had come back and she feared he was up to something.

"I thank you, my Lord. Though I am far from being as skilled as my sister."

"I doubt anyone can come close to your sister's skills. I heard something quite interesting about her." Littlefinger's voice dropped low as it always did when he was imparting something that was only for the person he was speaking to's attention.

"Did you, my lord?" she replied, trying to sound interested as she knew that was what he wished from her.

"Oh, yes. I heard that your brother, the king, has talked about how she was the one to kill all the Freys. A quite interesting tale, isn't it?" he said, his eyes focussed on her own and she did her best to school her features before replying.

"Indeed, it is."

"It was shocking to hear of such, to say the least, but there are a lot of things we don't know about Arya Stark… If it is indeed Arya Stark."

"What do you mean?" she frowned.

"Where did you say she was all this time?"

"I don't recall telling you about it, my lord, but she was in Braavos." she said and saw the momentary flicker in his eyes.

"Ah, Braavos… The Free City, home of the Iron Bank and the House of Black and White."

"What are you on about, my Lord?"

"Do you not find it… strange… the timing of your sister's arrival? How she behaves? Does it remind you of the Arya you knew?"

"We've all changed, Lord Baelish," she protested.

"Indeed, but I would be cautious if I were you. The Targaryen girl lived in Essos. She could have hired a Faceless Man to get rid of you and your brother."

"Why would she do that?" she asked worriedly.

"I don't know, but haven't you wondered why your half-brother hasn't come back yet? I have. He was after all close to young Rickon, and yet we've not heard anything from him."

"You think Jon would…" she asked trying not to let her mind go where he was sending her.

"I think you should be careful, Sansa. This woman is too close to your brother to my liking and we know nothing about her."

"You should leave. Now." she said angrily.

Baelish sent her a false apologetic smile and bowed before complying. She hated the man, hated what he was implying. Most of all, she hated how she reacted to his allegations. He knew her too well, and despite knowing how untrustworthy he was, the seed of doubt was already planted on her mind.

Dragonstone 302 AC.

Olenna.

While the queen was away, Olenna had kept herself as busy as she could. Truth be told though there had been very little to do on Dragonstone and so she'd instead spent her time watching and talking to those who were still on the island. Enjoying some conversations and some time spent with certain people more than others.

Certain things had become very clear to her as they awaited the queen's return. Missandei was far smarter than she had given her credit for and was missing the leader of the Queen's Unsullied, terribly. The Red Priestess followed after Jon Snow like a faithful puppy and would accept no slight aimed in his direction. Tyrion Lannister had lost whatever fondness he had felt for the Bastard of Winterfell and she believed he now posed a threat to his very life. While Theon Greyjoy both feared and respected Jon Snow in equal measure.

As for Jon Snow himself, she had spoken to him, broken her fast with him, and more and more she found she liked the young man. His words spoken at their meeting had been enough to convince her that she needed to follow them and had perhaps saved her life. Something she was most grateful for as while she had no wish to live forever, she was not ready to depart this world just yet. Not until Cersei Lannister had paid for what she'd done would she be ready to go and see her granddaughter and grandson once more. So she had welcomed having someone more attuned to military tactics than Tyrion Lannister was. They would need someone like that to win this war, even with the advantage they held.

The more time she'd spent with Jon Snow the more she was sure that he was far more than he seemed. She knew he'd been raised amongst his trueborn brothers and sisters, tales of Eddard Stark's bastard had always mentioned such. Yet there was something else there, something that nagged at the back of her head, and were it not for the queen's arrival she may very well have figured it out by now. Actually, that wasn't quite the truth, it wasn't simply the queen's arrival that had thrown her so, it was who she had brought with her. Finding out your home was to be sacked was a hard enough thing to face. Knowing that were it not for Jon Snow, someone who had you met them in other circumstances you'd perhaps have sought them removed from your presence, it could have led to your death was humbling. Compared to seeing evidence with your own eyes that a man who had sworn oaths to your family had then not only turned against you but had joined in and would have taken part in your fall, that only made her furious and so she sought answers.

"I wish to see the prisoner," she said standing facing the two guards.

"Queen gave this one orders." one of them said and she turned to look to Missandei who spoke to the guard in some language she didn't recognize and then she was allowed past.

He sat unbound on the bed, his eyes unable to look directly at hers when she spoke and it took him a few moments to even lift his head and turn her way.

"I welcomed you into my home, fed you from my table, and watched as you laughed and japed with my grandson and granddaughter, and yet you were more than happy to throw away any feelings you had for my house and ally with Lannisters." she spat.

"I did as my father bid me, my lady." Dickon Tarly said.

"And what of your mother? Your sister? Your brother? What will they think of what your father bid of you?" she asked keeping her voice steady somehow.

"I've shamed them." Dickon said his voice choked.

"You have most assuredly shamed them and yourself, young man. Hope that they or the gods forgive you for I shall not," she said turning to walk from the room and welcoming the sobbing she heard once she left.

The son at least felt some regret, she very much doubted that the father would and so she was proved right a few moments later when she stood in front of Randyll Tarly. He too was unbound and unchained and he had the temerity to glare at her.

"For hundreds of years, your family was sworn to mine and to House Targaryen. Your ancestors will roll in their graves at the thoughts of what you intended to do." she spat.

"I never swore an oath to a bitter old woman." Randyll retorted angrily.

"For a man such as you who spent his whole life holding himself up as something more honorable, more true, and more capable than me or mine, you really are a fool, Randyll. Worst than that you're a liar and a betrayer too."

"How dare you."

"I dare because I'm not the one on the wrong side of this. I dare because I'll not go down as an oath breaker when the stories are written. You allied yourself with the woman who killed your liege lord. The woman who killed my son, grandson, and granddaughter, your queen." she said bitterly as she practically snarled at him.

"The Imp…"

"By the Seven, you're even more of a fool than I gave you credit for. Tyrion Lannister was in Meereen when the Great Sept was blown up. He and his queen hadn't even looked our way by then and yet fool that you are or so desperate were you to justify your actions, you ignored the truth and bought into the lies and served a kinslayer in the process." she said and Randyll rose and moved to her ready to strike her given the look in his eyes.

"Sit or bleed, I give you no third choice." Jon Snow's voice called out from behind her and Olenna looked at the sword he held an inch from Randyll Tarly's neck.

"Who are you boy?" Randyll asked, Olenna happy to hear a tinge of fear in his voice.

"A friend of your son's, Sam." Jon Snow said catching both of them by surprise.

"Cravens have no friends," Randyll said moving to the bed as Jon Snow placed his sword back in its sheathe.

"Sam is far more than you gave him credit for and he deserved a far better father than you. I know all you did to him, all you wished to do to him and now so does your other son, Lord Tarly. All the preaching you gave him about what it meant to be a man and look at you, look at what you've become. A man who broke his oath and turned his cloak." Jon Snow's voice was full of vitriol which again caught her by surprise.

"Oaths sworn to those unworthy of them are no true oaths," Randyll said in a superior tone.

"Oaths are oaths, you live by them or you die by them. You betrayed your liege house, which makes you no better than the Frey's or the Boltons." Jon Snow said and Olenna smiled as she saw the little shudder that Randyll gave "You betrayed your queen, which makes you guilty of treason."

"I swore no oath to Daenerys Targaryen." Randyll almost shouted out.

"Your house swore to serve House Targaryen faithfully did it not? Truly did it not? Yet when its heir arrived on these shores you allied yourself with a mad queen and took Lannister gold rather than live up to the oaths your house swore for hundreds of years." Jon Snow said disdainfully and Olenna found herself more looking to him than to Randyll for some reason.

"I took no gold," Randyll said affronted.

"Did you not? Who was to be Warden of the South when Lady Olenna and her house were no more, my lord? Who was to be given rule over Highgarden? Lie to yourself all you wish, but just like Roose Bolton you sold your oaths for gold, and just like him I damn you for them." Jon Snow said as he walked from the room.

There was silence for some time, Olenna could still see Jon Snow who seemed to be waiting for her and Randyll sat looking at the wall.

"Who was that boy?" Randyll asked after a few moments.

"Jon Snow, Eddard Stark's bastard son," Olenna replied and Randyll looked at her with an odd look on his face.

"I thought he was someone else…." Randyll said drifting off before straightening himself up "What's to become of me, of my son?"

"I've not decided yet. By all rights both of you should die for what you did. Yet perhaps there is hope for your son. For you, I don't see you keeping your head. I can't let you live, I won't, not after what you tried to do." she said and Randyll nodded.

"Will I be given leave to write to Melessa?" he asked and she nodded.

"I thank you for that. I…."

He didn't finish and she didn't wait for him to, instead, she walked outside and found Jon Snow waiting for her. The two of them walking from the rooms and up the stairs and she looked at him as they did so.

"What brought you to the cells?" she asked though in truth they weren't really cells that they were being held in.

"I was friends with his son. He deserved a better father than him."

"What you said about the Targaryens, was the queen to hear it she'd name you a hypocrite," she said and saw him smile and shake his head, the smile making her stop walking for a moment as she recognized it more clearly.

"My lady?"

"Forgive me, Lord Snow, tiredness comes on a woman of my age at the most inopportune times."

"There is nothing to forgive." Jon Snow said and she nodded as she took his offered arm.

She watched him as they walked to her rooms, her eyes looking into his own and seeing some shades of indigo in them that she'd missed before. In certain lights they looked to be simply the darkest grey and yet now she was sure that they were darker even than that. The worried look he gave her back was so much like his brooding one that it had the same effect and allowed her to take it in even more. By the time he'd left her at her room and had suggested sending a Maester or healer her way, Olenna told him she was feeling much better and that a short rest would suffice.

Later that night as she ate and he looked her way more than once, she offered him reassuring nods and tried not to feel too warmly about the fact he was showing some concern over her. Instead, she concentrated on those around the table, noticing the lines being drawn even more clearly. Both the Queen and Missandei were firmly in Jon Snow's corner as was Lady Melisandre even more so than they. Tyrion Lannister, however, was very much not and Varys was Varys, as hard to read as ever and Olenna wondered if she would need to speak to the eunuch to prove herself right. If she even wished to be proven right that was. Looking to the queen laughing at something Jon Snow said, seeing the smile on his face looking so much like hers, she was sure that she was.

Jon Snow wasn't the Bastard of Winterfell, he was the Bastard of Dragonstone and Eddard Stark had fooled them all.

Winterfell 302 AC

Arya Stark.

She had been watching her family's interactions and had kept herself from getting involved too much. She agreed to train Sansa and was glad to see her sister taking her training seriously but she was going easy on her, as her own training had been far more difficult than what her sister was experiencing now. Rickon was also willing to participate in Sansa's drills, whether to get on their sister's nerves or to show his support, she didn't know, but this allowed for the siblings to share a moment or two together and for this Arya was grateful.

Bran was still a mystery to her, though she understood the few times he deigned talked to her that he knew everything about her. It made her wary of him, as only the Faceless Men were that knowledgeable as far as she knew, but Bran quickly shut down her doubts.

"The Faceless Men have knowledge of the person whose face they're wearing. I can tell you everything I learn from the past, the present… For every living and dead person who's ever walked in Westeros."

"Prove it to me." she asked looking him in his eyes, eyes that showed her nothing at all.

"You'll see one of your friends soon."

"Friends? I have no friends."

"The one named Gendry. You thought he was dead, that he had been killed by the Red Woman. That was why she was on your list."

"He's alive?"

"For now he is. And he's coming to Winterfell." Bran said cryptically.

"Why?"

"Because it is his fate," Bran responded simply and went back to ignoring her.

It had shaken her to the core, as had every time her brother displayed his newfound powers. She didn't sleep that night, tossing and turning after images of Gendry leaving in the Red woman's cart, his gaze was full of panic and disillusionment filling her younger self with pain and hatred.

It had been a long time since she had thought of the boy who helped her when she was on the road, to her past self who couldn't even mourn her father's death, too busy to think about her survival to do so. The relief she felt to know, to hope that Gendry was alive bothered her and so she went to the yard, hoping to forget about him while she planned to destroy more dummies.

What she found there made her smile fondly.

"You shouldn't be here alone at this hour, you know?", she said startling her brother who was facing the white Direwolf as if they were in a staring contest.

"I'm not alone. Ghost is here and Tormund… Where is Tormund?" Rickon asked while looking around.

"Probably getting drunk with this goat's milk of his. How does he find so much of it anyway?."

"Magic, he says…" Rickon shrugged, making her chuckle. "What are you doing out here?"

"I should ask you the same. It is not safe for you here, even with Ghost. Anything can happen."

"You worry too much, Arya. If Cersei was to send an assassin, Ghost would…"

"I wasn't talking about Cersei." she interrupted abruptly.

"Who, then?"

Arya sighed loudly and walked over to her brother.

"There are things, people who can hurt you for who you are. Remember I told you that one day, I would tell you how I was able to kill all the Freys at once?"

"Does it have to do with me not being safe right now?" She could see a flicker of distrust in Rickon's eye and it pained her to know that he would probably be angered by the fact that she hadn't been upfront with him.

"It does."

"Will I need something strong to drink?"

"No more goat's milk for you."

"Well, I've tried. Very well, tell me." he said chuckling.

"Not here. Come with me."

Rickon and Ghost followed her to her rooms and she was surprised to see him sit on the floor, the Direwolf walking directly to him so he could surround him with his body.

"Don't you want to sit on the bed?"

"Nah, I'm good. Speak."

And speak she did. About her meeting with Jaqen, his invitation to come to Braavos, the House and Black and White and her becoming No One. He never interrupted her, not once, and she had been grateful for that, although his silence after she finished her tale made her uncomfortable. Was he scared of her? Was he judging her actions?

"So… You're an assassin." he asked curiously.

"Not anymore. I'm Arya Stark."

"But you've been trained as an assassin?"

"I have. Does it scare you?"

"No. I was just wondering what this had to do with me. Do you fear for my life because you left the Order? Do you think they would wish to get revenge for your leaving by killing your family?"

She tensed and started pacing in front of him. She had never thought of that. She had stolen faces and had taken others she shouldn't have, Walder's ugly one being one of her most prized trophies. Would the God of Death come for her? For her family? Because of what she had done?

"No, that's not it…" Rickon's voice brought her back to the conversation. "What is it then. You said it's because of who I am."

"You were dead, Rickon. And now you're not. You were on the Many-Faced God's list. You were not supposed to live."

"Will everyone remind me of that fact every single day for the rest of my fucking life?" he said, sounding exasperated, and she quickly shook her head as she saw his fist clenching into Ghost's fur.

"No, you don't understand. I don't care that you're alive. I'm glad you are, actually. It goes against everything I've been trained for, but I'm glad you're here." That seemed to calm him down but not to enlighten him. "What I'm trying to say is… The Many-Faced God has been given your name and it has been stolen from him. He will send people to get his due."

"You mean… People like you?" Rickon asked worriedly.

"People who have been trained like me, Aye."

"That's why you are always on edge, isn't it? You fear a Faceless Man in Winterfell?" he finally understood.

"Aye, and now, thanks to you, I'm afraid I might have put us even more in danger."

"Arya…"

"I hadn't thought of that. Why did I come home? I should have kept to my list…" She was startled as his hand caught hers, stopping her from pacing.

"I'm glad you're here, Arya. I'm glad you came home."

"But I might have -"

"Fuck this. If they don't like me being alive, wait until they see a fucking wight. they will be too busy collecting them to care for us." Rickon chuckled as he spoke.

"How can you be so carefree?"

"I'm not. I don't want to die. But as a great man once said 'There are not a lot of fuckers who got another chance at living'. So I'll take it."

"Was this great man's name Giantsbane?" she frowned and he smiled sheepishly.

"The way I see it I got to see Jon, and to see you, and Meera, and to meet Tormund, and Lyanna and Davos and Nessa. I hope that Jon will come back soon, that way if I have to die, I'll enjoy my time with you all first."

She noticed he didn't speak of Sansa and Bran but didn't want to ruin his mood by mentioning them.

"Oh no… Jon…"

Rickon's positive demeanor had quickly changed to an anxious one. Ghost stood up and immediately flanked him, which made Arya frown.

"What is it, what about Jon?" she asked, her own worries clear now too.

"He's been resurrected too. The Red Woman… She… At the Wall… We have to warn him!" Rickon's panic was almost too much for her to bear and she reached out to calm him down, hoping her touch, her words, whatever would do the trick.

"We will, brother," she ensured. "We will."

"You have to come to the council meeting tomorrow. To explain what it is we could face."

"I… I cannot…"

"No need to tell them about you. We just have to explain that they need to be on their guard. We'll tell them that we know from your time in Essos that there will be people against me being brought back from the dead… I don't know… But we have to tell them." Rickon said firmly.

"I'll think about something, brother. Now you rest."

She watched him sleep that night, as she had on some of the other ones and smiled as Ghost licked her hand before standing guard with her.

Arya went to the council meeting the next day, frowning when Sansa kept looking at her instead of listening to their brother. She saw her tremble when she spoke about the Faceless Men and the risk they were posing to Rickon.

"How do you know they would be after him and Jon?" Sansa asked, glaring at her.

"I told you. I was in Essos. I know how they think. Should one person contact them about Rickon or Jon being alive, then they will come for them."

"How can we recognize a Faceless Man?" Lyanna Mormont asks.

"You can't."

"That's rich!" Sansa mumbled. "And why do you think they are likely to come?"

"I… I made a mistake…" she struggled to admit it. "I might have brought their attention to Winterfell."

"How so?"

"I…"

"She stole something from them. To get rid of the Freys." Rickon was quick to answer for her, much to her surprise.

"You stole something? What was it?" Sansa asked and again how her sister looked to her and spoke while she looked at her, annoyed her.

"Poison." It wasn't a complete lie. She had taken the ingredients for the poison at the Hours of Black and White the same day she stole the faces on the wall.

"That's how you killed the Freys? By poisoning them?"

"How did you want me to kill them? One by one?" Arya scoffed.

"I don't care how they died as long as the bastards suffered for what they did to our families." Lyanna Mormont intervened. "Did they?" Arya nodded and got a nod of approval from the Lady and from Lord Manderly both of whom had lost kin at the Red Wedding. "Good."

"I find it strange that you know so much about the Faceless Men." Sansa pointed out.

"I hope you find it as strange as Bran knowing everything about everyone, sister." Rickon countered, surprising her again with his support. "At least Arya warned us about the possible threats. Has Bran?"

"What is it to do with Bran?" Sansa retorted.

"Bran knows everything, Sansa. Everything, including what is going to happen in the future. He could tell us where our enemies are and what they're planning to do. Yet, he keeps it to himself. Why is that?" Rickon asked.

"Well, maybe you should ask him…"

"I did. Do you know what he told me? 'The Ink is Dry'. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Oh and that Littlefinger should not die yet." Rickon said and the way the last part showed just how much he disagreed with that idea, yet Sansa still asked the question.

"You want to kill Littlefinger?"

"Of course I do! I think the only one willing to keep that fucker alive is you, Sansa." Rickon huffed.

"He is still on my list," Arya said nonchalantly and Sansa's gaze quickly turned to her.

"His Grace is not wrong, my Lady," the usually silent Lord Manderly said. "On another note, The first shipment of Dragonglass has been received at White Harbor."

"That's good news! Has the captain said anything we need to know, my lord?" Rickon asked.

"Only that he was going back for more once the ship was emptied. My men are working day and night to see it done, however they have to be careful as the glass is brittle and we don't want it to break before we bring it to bear."

"How are we supposed to craft weapons with such a brittle material?" Sansa lamented.

"The man who sent the raven to Jon from the Citadel must know. Sam, I think his name was?" Rickon said, looking to Ser Davos.

"Aye, Samwell Tarly." the knight confirmed. "We can try to contact him and ask him for more information."

"Good. Let's do that, and let's ask Bran too. Maybe this time he'll actually be helpful… We also need to warn Jon about the Faceless Men. Has there been any news from the Watch?" she listened as Rickon ran the meeting, asking questions and moving through subjects as if he was checking them off some list in his head.

"Nothing much more than what we already know thanks to you. We're still waiting for them to come back with the proof you've asked of them."

"How about our stocks?"

"Good for now. The rabbits are doing well and the breeding is bearing fruit. However, the more they grow though the more difficult it is to feed them." Sansa pointed out.

"Kill the older ones, the ones who've mated more than once already, to keep the population in the same numbers. Or send them elsewhere where a stock can be dedicated to them. That was how we did it in my village. couldn't have too many rabbits eating the same food as us." Tormund suggested. "We kept their meat in the snow to keep it from rotting, or we salted them when we could find salt."

"We'll have Maester Wolkan look into that."

The council went on with more talk of things she cared not for, but through it all Arya could feel two sets of eyes on her. Her sister's whole stance and manner was a defensive one while the Lady of Bear Island seemed questioning, then resolute. What part of her was she to lead with she was soon to find out.

"A word, Lady Arya," Lyanna said bluntly once the council was dismissed.

"I'm not a Lady."

"You would prefer I call you Princess?" Lyanna asked and Arya cringed at the idea. "That's what I thought."

"What can I do for you, Lady Lyanna?"

"Be a better sister to King Rickon than Lady Sansa." She wasn't expecting that and waited for Lyanna to continue. "I know there's more to it than what you said in there about the Faceless Men, and that Rickon is covering for you. If he does that, then it means he trusts you. Do not disappoint him as your sister has."

"You care about him a lot, do you?"

"For the Old Gods' sake, what's with you all thinking that we're courting each other?" Lyanna groaned and Arya couldn't help but smile at the display of youth she just witnessed. "He is my king and I see myself in him. How I too have struggled to get by and do my duties without my family. Mine didn't come back as his has, but so far only Jon Snow has ever tried to understand and protect him. He's starting to open up to you, to begin to think that he could have more family than just his older brother, more family that will not try to manipulate him."

"Sansa and Bran -"

"Are not his favorite people as of now and I doubt they ever will be. Be better than them. Never give up on him. Always be honest with him. And tell him that you're with him." Lyanna said, her resoluteness shining through.

"I thank you for the advice, My Lady."

Lyanna nodded and left her alone with her thoughts. She was missing pieces of information about her siblings to make her understand why there was so much tension between them. She understood why Sansa's attitude could be seen as manipulative, but although Rickon had pointed out some valid points, Bran seemed more lost in his own world than trying to manipulate him. She needed more, needed to watch them and to understand their motives better.

She took the face of the servant she had used to go into the Twins so that she could walk around Winterfell without being recognized. She couldn't wear it for long as she wasn't No One and using the magic of the Faceless Men, now physically hurt her by rejecting her, but she would endure the pain long enough for what she needed to do. Sansa wasn't in her room and she tried to search for anything that could help her to understand her sister better. The messages Sansa kept were useless however and Arya was about to give up when she heard two sets of hurried footsteps approaching. She swiftly hid under the bed as she heard Sansa speak in a worried tone of voice.

"She needs to leave."

"Then force her to leave. Tell her that she is not welcome here anymore."

"Rickon will never let her go."

"You have to show him the dangers of her presence, my Love."

"He will never listen to me."

"But he will listen to his Lords. That's what he does. You've already endeared yourself to them by joining them in the yard and doing more activities with them, as I suggested. Tell them about what she is, what she did. Tell them of the threat she is to your King and he will have no choice but to send her away."

"What if she's the real Arya?"

"Then she will understand that she has to leave, to protect her family."

Arya's heart broke as the conversation unfolded. Why would Sansa confide in someone as untrustworthy as Baelish? She understood the anguish her sister had felt when she heard about the threat of the Faceless Men, but instead of confronting her and speaking to her about it, she went behind her back. It reminded her of what had happened in King's Landing. Memories of when their father had told them they would be leaving the city the day before they got attacked. Doubts now began to spread in her mind. Sansa had been so upset that she had run away to cry about her not marrying Joffrey. Had she done the unthinkable? Had she confided in someone who had then informed the queen? Had she told Joffrey?.

Sansa was right, though. Arya needed to leave before hurting Rickon, but there were things that she needed to know before leaving. Not that it would change anything in regards to the outcome, as she already felt betrayed by her sister's actions, but she needed to be sure that was all she could hold against her.

She waited until she could get away from the room safely and went to the only person that could give her an answer. He was waiting for her, as expected, in the place he always was these days.

"I told you that Littlefinger's time wasn't now…" Bran said.

"Why?"

"Because it made you ready to face it."

"Face what?"

"The time has come for you to learn some truths about King's Landing. About our sister. And about the origins of the fall of our family."

Dragonstone 302 AC.

Jon Snow.

He had felt a fool asking a dragon to look after the woman who had hatched it and thought it her child. Yet seeing them return safely and with prisoners, he wondered if he perhaps knew something after all. Seeing the queen safe and well made him feel something he'd not felt in some time. Jon feeling a relief that was more than simply that and he was far more effusive when he spoke to her than he usually was because of it.

As they walked back to the keep he had looked back to the green dragon whose eyes were staring directly at him, with a nod of his head that he swore had been returned he'd then turned to see the queen looking at him curiously. Thankfully she seemed tired and so he had no awkward questions to answer and had instead simply been told what had happened. When she told him that she was grateful for the help and advice he'd given her, he'd brushed it off only for her to stop and look at him again. Her words were ones that he found himself thinking back on over the next few days.

"There have been far too many who've steered me wrong and lied to me, Jon Snow. It feels good to finally meet someone who says what they mean and means what they say."

He spoke to her about Theon and the fact that his sister was taken prisoner by Euron Greyjoy and saw the small glint in her eye as what he had said about her taking prisoners herself was now proved true. Then hearing her yawn which made her blush, he bid her to rest and took his leave. That night they ate and it was almost a celebration of sorts. The queen's mood causing all of their own to be lifted and he japed and joked, laughed, and was made fun of almost as much as if he was eating with family rather than potential allies and those he'd named strangers just a couple of weeks before.

It made him feel somewhat guilty when he went to his bed, thoughts of enjoying himself while in Winterfell. Rickon perhaps worried about him and wished him back by his side. Jon felt as if he was somehow letting his brother down by not being there and so he promised himself that he'd be traveling back soon enough. For once the thoughts of it caused some conflict in his heart and it was both a brother and a queen that he fell to sleep thinking of that night. Waking the next morning he'd then sparred and been cheered on by said queen.

Where the words came from that he answered her with he knew not, the looks she gave him as he spoke them promised so much and yet he knew deep down that in truth they promised little. An attraction was something he'd admit to no one but himself and it was something he knew he had for Daenerys Targaryen. He could perhaps even admit that it may even be one that was both welcomed and shared. Yet it was one that could never be acted upon and so he resolved to rein in how he acted when around her, only to find he could not. His eyes refusing to not look to her at the meeting he was invited to and even when his anger rose at another of Tyrion's idiotic plans, it was her and not the dwarf that he looked to.

"A raven, Lord Snow, from Winterfell." The servant said, handing him the scroll and he broke the seal eagerly.

Jon,

I write to you with good news brother, news that I know you've longed to hear. Arya has returned, Jon, she's unhurt and is back home as is Bran. They like, me, wish you were here and that our family was together once more. I miss you, Jon, and find myself thinking things I'd rather not, memories I'd rather not. Davos and Tormund have both helped me greatly, but they are not my brother, and there are things I can't say to them that I can only say to you. I know what you're doing is important and that it's needed in the war to come, and so I promise to stay strong until your return.

Ghost says his own hellos and is my most faithful friend and protector as he was always yours. I've sent Lord Glover to travel Beyond the Wall in search of a wight, the man continues to be a pain in my arse and denies their existence and so I felt this was the best way to handle him. Perhaps we'll be lucky and his mission will be successful.

Your brother,

Rickon Stark,

King in the North.

The joy he felt at the news of Bran and Arya's return was diminished somewhat by how much Rickon missed him and he knew he needed to send word back to him as quickly as he could. Tyrion's words had given him the perfect excuse to cut short his time here and Lady Olenna's words about the man now preyed on his mind and so it was with anger that he had responded to the suggestion that had been made. Seeing the worried look on the queen's face, he offered her a more comforting look that he was happy to see relaxed her somewhat, and then he asked for permission to send word back to his brother.

Why he didn't speak up about Glover he couldn't answer, perhaps it was simply that he felt there was no way that the man would actually manage to capture a wight and that more than anything had been his brother's intent. It was a clever way to deal with a man who was craven and disloyal and yet the idea of them capturing a wight was still a good one. He had lied somewhat in his arguments in the meeting, it wasn't that he wouldn't send men to do what he would not, or that he didn't see some value in what Tyrion proposed. More it was his brother he was thinking off and the thoughts of further time away from him, of leaving him alone to deal with all that he had to deal with so that he could travel Beyond the Wall, was just too much for him to bear.

His mind was resolved, his wishes clear and as he wrote the scroll he meant each and every single word. Watching the raven as it flew off brought a smile to his face and he felt one weight lift from his heart, only for another soon to land on it when he next saw the queen walk his way. She was alone and he was brooding, the cliffs empty as he had gone to look for the green dragon to give him the strength needed to say his goodbyes, only for once to find Rhaegal to be nowhere in sight. The raven had been gone for half a day and it would take many more for it to reach Winterfell, Jon though intended to be on his ship heading North even before it did.

"I've been told this is your favorite place, Jon Snow." The queen said to him and despite how he felt, smiled as he replied.

"I've come to enjoy its quietness, your grace. I find I like to watch the dragons as they fly." he said looking to the empty sky.

"Few men I've met have dared to get too close to my children, Jon Snow, why are you not as afraid of them as they?" She asked curiously.

"Before I went to the Wall, we found a dead Direwolf, your grace. Have you ever seen a Direwolf? Heard of them?" he asked and she shook her head "They're much larger than any other wolf, much larger and more ferocious too. The Direwolf had just birthed a litter of pups, six in all. At first, we thought there were only five and though my father wished to kill them, saying they were no pets, I felt they were a gift from the Old Gods. A sign from them if you will."

"Why? What made you think them a sign?" she asked looking directly at him.

"I had five trueborn siblings, your grace. Two sisters and three brothers and we'd found five pups, the Direwolf is the Sigil of my father's house just as dragons are the sigil of your own. Do you not believe your children to be gifts from the gods?" he asked and she smiled beamingly at him as she nodded.

"You said five, you were willing to let your brother and sisters have the pups even at the cost of one for yourself?"

"I am not a Stark, your grace." he said softly "The gods though saw fit to give me one regardless, Ghost was the runt of the litter, smaller and mute and there were those who thought he'd not survive. Yet to see him now there is not a larger Direwolf living in all the lands Beyond the Wall or on this side of it. He's stronger than ten men, more capable in a fight than I will ever be and yet…." he said smiling softly as he pictured Ghost and Rickon, his brother laying on the floor with his arms wrapped around the white wolf and his head resting on his soft white fur "He's as gentle as a mother with a newborn babe in her arms."

"So you see my children the same?" the queen asked, almost seeming to be happy by the thought.

"Fierce when they need to be and gentle when they do not." he said and saw her nod, steadying himself he readied to tell her that the time had come for him to depart only for her words to stop him from speaking.

"My Hand spoke out of turn at our meeting, Jon Snow. I've come to make you a more reasonable offer."

"Your grace…"

"I shall accompany you when you return to the North. Once there, together we can go and see this army of deadmen that march our way and from there decide on how best to handle them.`` The queen said, catching him completely by surprise.

"Your Grace, I… you have my thanks, truly." he said and before he knew it he was locked in an embrace, holding the queen tightly to him, only to then move away and beg forgiveness.

Over the next few days, they made the arrangements for the trip North and the prisoner exchange, the raven arriving first from Cersei Lannister saying that she had agreed to their terms and the queen then deciding to delay their journey to the North so she could oversee it, only for him to talk her out of it.

"You cannot, your grace. As much as you wish your allies back, you cannot risk yourself so." he said when she'd sent Tyrion and Olenna from the room and only he and Missandei remained."

"These are my allies, Jon Snow, I'll not leave until I know they are safe." she replied determinedly and he sighed before continuing to speak.

"You're too valuable to risk, your grace. Your safety wouldn't be guaranteed, parley doesn't mean what it should to those in the south." he said bitterly as he thought of the Twins "Some here don't hold to their words as truly as you do. Cersei Lannister will want you dead as much as you may her, more so as you wish to take what she sees as her own. Lady Olenna will be the first to tell you what lengths she would go to in order to see herself remain in power. Anyone who thinks nothing of blowing up a Sept full of people including their own kin would think nothing of breaking a parley." he said and could see he wasn't getting through to her.

"Jon is right, your grace." Missandei said and finally, he saw his words had hit home.

"I'll not abandon my allies, Jon Snow." the queen said after a few moments.

"There is no need to, nor am I suggesting you do so, your grace. Only that you don't travel to the parley yourself."

He got no commitment from her that she would not, and that night's meal was a far more strained one between them. Something that Tyrion seemed to enjoy far more than any who sat at that table. As he was heading to his bed, Melisandre bid him join her and when she handed him the leech he took it gratefully. The two of them sat silently by the fire as the leech swallowed more and more of his blood. Jon was more than eager to see whatever the flames held for him and he felt his excitement grow when Melisandre finally took the leech from his arm and threw it into the fire.

The flames grew even larger than they had at Winterfell, both of them needing to move their chairs before looking into them. Jon saw the ship set sail from Dragonstone, Melisandre, Tyrion, and Theon aboard it, and then he saw himself, the queen, and two of her guards as they flew North on Drogon's back. He saw the raven arrive bearing word from his brother and saw Melisandre, Lady Ellaria, Tyene, and Yara Greyjoy standing on a ship as it left what he could only assume to be King's Landing. The visions quickly changed to Winterfell and his brother, to Arya and Sansa, Bran and Ghost, and to him standing by the great Weirwood with the Queen by his side.

"You know what you must do, my prince." Melisandre said when the visions stopped and he nodded "It seems my own work will see us part for some time, though R'hllor has shown me that it shall not be for long." she added.

"I am most pleased to hear it, my lady." he said and she looked at him with more than just relief in her eyes, there was gratitude there too.

He spoke to the queen the next morning, told her some of what Melisandre had seen and nothing of what he had. Visions in the flames seen by a red priestess were one thing, visions seen by a bastard of the North, another. When he told her that a raven would arrive from his brother bearing news they'd both wish to hear, she'd looked at him questioningly. Only for the next day his words to be proven true and so as the ship set sail for King's Landing, he, the queen, and her guards said their goodbyes and mounted up on Drogon's back. Jon wearing a smile on his was as finally, he was heading home.

Winterfell 302 AC.

Rickon Stark.

Something was wrong with his sisters and Rickon couldn't figure out what it was. Truthfully, he didn't even know if he wanted to. Arya and Sansa had a falling out over something that neither of them was willing to talk about, but it was obvious to him that it would affect him too. Since the meeting where they discussed the Faceless Men, Sansa had tried to talk to him into avoiding spending time with Arya. Rickon's response hadn't pleased her and had led to another argument, with Sansa then claiming that they didn't know if Arya was who she said she was. Sansa then declared she preferred training with Brienne and Podrick and when Rickon went to his other sister to ask if it was the reason why she had distanced herself from Sansa, her answer had been quite clipped.

"I don't care about what Sansa says. Not anymore. I'm here for you and to see Jon, and I'll stay here until you grow bored of me." Arya said.

"I will never grow bored of you, sister. And don't let Sansa's words get to you. It is your home as much as it is hers, or Jon's."

"Or Bran's?"

Rickon soon lost his cheery demeanor at the mention of their brother.

"Aye. Him too."

"You should follow your own advice and stop caring about what Bran has said."

"There are things about him I don't get." He replied.

"Such as?"

"His refusal to talk about the future. About things that are supposed to happen. He's seen it, seen how we should defeat the Night King. He told me so before. He saw Jon become king and saw the Long Night's end."

"He said to me that he can't see the future since you're here and it wasn't supposed to happen." Arya added to his own words a moment later.

"Yet he assures that we shouldn't kill Baelish because it's not his time. He told me that I can't learn how to… Do things because my path is to be king, yet according to him I wasn't supposed to be. And when we were younger, he told me that my path led me to the Umbers… As if… As if he knew I would be dying…" He saw Arya tense at those words and she was probably about to defend their brother, but he didn't give her time to do so. "I know what you're thinking, but you weren't there, Arya. He saw things long before becoming the Three-Eyed Raven and I did too, long before he did. We had what people call green dreams. We knew when Father died because we dreamt of him waiting for us in the crypts before we got the news.

We knew of the Ironborn invasion because we dreamed of it too. Dreamed about the sea swallowing Winterfell. I dreamt of a trout in a wolf's skin floating away between Twin Towers. I dreamt of a wolf with Robb's head and Robb's body with a wolf's head the day he left for the war… And I dreamt of the raven… Of a winged wolf chained under Weirwood roots being attacked relentlessly by the raven until the wolf began to caw. I dreamt of the dead marching towards the Wall… And I think I dreamt of you too… It was a long time ago, but I know now that it was you." he said his words going softer by the end.

He feared Arya's reaction, feared that she would doubt him or that she would be scared. He had never gone into so much detail about this with anyone other than Jon, but at that time he didn't know what those dreams were or what they meant. Jon had comforted him and told him to write down the dreams that he had and to try and discern what he'd written should he feel them that important. He'd said that it could be a warning from the Old Gods so that he could protect himself and their family. When Bran came back and talked about the Greensight, Rickon had hoped his brother would have helped him understand it better but he had been told to forget about it. He couldn't do anything more about the sight for now, but he had at least found someone to help him learn some of his other abilities in secret.

"What did you dream about me?" Arya asked curiously.

"I dreamt of a grey wolf sitting in a hall full of faces, with a big needle hidden in her fur."

"A needle, you say?" She gasped and bridged the distance between them. "Did you really say a needle?"

"Why? Is it important? Wait… Get off!" he whined as she caught him in a tight hug. "What is it with you and hugs?"

"Needle is… Very special to me. Jon had it made for me when I was leaving for King's Landing. It has saved my life more times than I could count."

"So it was really you? See?" he said excitedly.

"Aye, little brother. It was me.`` She smiled at him. "So, you too have prophetic dreams."

"The Free Folk call it Greensight. Bran had them too, before… And now he can see things more clearly. They are not symbols or sigils to him anymore. He can see the real people thanks to being the Three-Eyed Raven. Yet he does nothing with it. Nothing to warn us or to change our future. He knows things and he doesn't share them unless it suits him." he said agitatedly.

"What do you mean?" Arya said, frowning.

"He uses it to prove that he has power or to scare people away. Nothing more. He knew who you were from the start, right?" he said to her small nod. "He could have told us about the threat of the Faceless Men, So I went to him to ask him about it. He told me that it wasn't his story to tell and that you had to be the one figuring that out. That soon, everything will make sense and we should not try to change the book because the ink is already dry, or whatever magical shite he was on about again. Anyway, he knew, and yet he let us worry. He doesn't seem worried nor even caring." Rickon said, his agitation given way to anger by the end of his words.

"That's what we should focus on. As long as he doesn't worry, it means that we're safe. As for your dreams… Did you have more of them?" Arya asked.

Rickon nodded weakly and was about to answer when the Maester announced his presence.

"A raven, Your Grace, from your brother."

Rickon took the scroll excitedly and then read it thoroughly.

To the King in the North.

My dearest brother.

Our mining goes well and yet I wish I was already back in Winterfell with all of you. I pray that Arya isn't giving you too much trouble. Be nice, both of you, and try and be sure to get under other people's feet and not under each other's.

We're just about finished with the next shipment of Dragonglass and I hope that the first has already arrived and been put to use. There is so much more of it here but I think we have mined enough of it for now. Events in the South are evolving in favor of Her Grace Queen Daenerys Targaryen, yet they still don't fully believe me about what is to come and some on her council take me for a fool. One of them even suggested that I head Beyond the Wall and bring them back a wight, but I refused their request. I am not Lord Glover and nor shall I become him, for I know as well as you do what your order truly meant. You clever little sod. Since I cannot get them to see the truth, I intend to speak with the queen and then to leave them to their matters while we see to our own. My work here is almost done, little brother, and I shall soon be coming home.

Until then I want you to know that I miss you so very much and I shall do everything in my power to get back to you as quickly as I am able. Take care of yourself and of our family until I return, brother. For I trust no one but you to do what is best for them. I remain as ever your Lealest and truest servant, your grace, and I am always your dearest brother.

Love you, little brother,

Jon.

"The fuckers want him dead!" Rickon growled, his anger winning out over the other emotions he was feeling for the time being.

"And Jon is too clever to give them this satisfaction," Arya said proudly. "But still, they aren't the only ones doubting his words."

"I know, and that was why I'd asked Glover to go fetch a wight. Don't look at me like that! I had this plan way before he acted like a fucking idiot. So I took the opportunity of the mission to see him gone."

"Why didn't you send him back when he came back?" Arya asked.

"Because he brought Bran back and he seemed to have believed our brother's word."

"Or he was just too afraid you would send him back and he lied to you," Arya said and he shrugged.

"In any case, he stopped being a pain in my arse. That was what I wanted. but that doesn't mean I've given up on all my plans regarding him."

"The wight?" Arya said to a nod. "How are we supposed to get that now?"

"We don't need to do anything. The Free Folk and the Night's watch will see it done."

"That's why you're always asking about news from the Wall, isn't it? Because you've already sent word? When exactly did you do that?"

"When Bran came home. Davos took care of it for me." Rickon said proudly, the way his sister was looking at him reminding him so much of how Jon would.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"You weren't ready yet. The others simply didn't listen." Rickon shrugged noncommittally.

"You're really a little sod, brother." she chuckled while mussing his hair.

As soon as he got the raven he'd waited for, he asked for one of his guards to summon the Council and waited for them in the newly named King's Solar. Sansa, as usual, was the first to arrive and once again she frowned when she saw Arya, but she said nothing and sat in silence, her eyes focused on their sister. They were having a silent battle of sorts and Rickon was too tired of their antics to try to understand them for now.

He read Jon's part of the message regarding his upcoming return out loud to the Council. Sansa then held out her hand for the scroll so that she could read it as soon as he was finished and he reluctantly gave it to her while Lyanna cursed at the men of the South for daring to try having her King's brother do their errands. As for Sansa, her small smile turned to a scowl the more her eyes focused on the words that were written by Jon.

"He named her Queen," Sansa said tersely.

"Well, she will be if she beats Cersei, which is what is happening right now according to what Jon tells us," Rickon replied.

"He will want us to declare for her." Sansa said annoyedly.

"That's not what I read here, Sansa," Rickon retorted.

"But it's what is implied!"

"He started by addressing King Rickon's title, and then he reminded him that he was his servant. Acknowledging Daenerys Targaryen's status as future queen in the South doesn't mean that he wants us to give her the North." Lord Manderly pointed out and he saw as Sansa realized that she hadn't been the first to be made aware of the letter.

"It would be interesting to hear about Daenerys Targaryen from Jon directly. He can't say much in a raven, as both he and we know they are watching any information that he shares with us." Ser Davos intervened.

"What for? It seems like she doesn't seek to help us." Lyanna noted.

"Indeed, but what of her war? We still don't know if she's amenable to leave the North independent." Sansa said.

"There are ways to get the South to leave the North in peace," Davos said, his hesitation making Rickon nervous.

"Such as?" Sansa asked.

"Alliances, between House Stark and House Targaryen." Davos's reply not making sense to him and forcing him to ask a question he didn't wish to.

"What do you mean by that?" Rikon asked, completely lost by Davos's logic only for Sansa to pick up on it more quickly than he.

"Have you lost your senses? Our bannermen would never forgive us if we suggest Rickon was to be wed to the Mad King's daughter!" Sansa objected.

"Wait, what? Me, getting married?"

"That's what Ser Davos is hinting at."

"I'm too young to be wed anyway!" Rickon exclaimed, his eyes drawn to Lyanna's for some reason and he was surprised to see her own looking his way.

"You are not the only eligible Stark alive, Your Grace. Bran or Jon could…" Davos began but Rickon interrupted him quickly.

"No. Not Jon. He cannot get married to a Queen in the South." Rickon said firmly.

"I know he's a bastard, but…"

"I don't care about that! Jon is needed here, not in the South." he snapped.

"Rickon is right," Sansa said. "Our family never does well in the South, anyway."

"I was just…" Davos said looking at him and though he was offering him, counsel, he was not in the mood to listen to it or to its content and so he told him so.

"Look, Ser Davos. I appreciate your council and I welcome them but…"

"But you would rather bend the knee than to live separated from your brother. I understand, Rickon." Davos said and this time it was Sansa who interrupted.

"You cannot bend the knee!" Sansa exclaimed and Rickon felt a terrible headache coming on.

"For now, I'm doing nothing. We have other matters more important than this to settle. We received a raven from the Wall this morning. They are sending a few men of the Watch to Winterfell, along with some others from a Brotherhood who had joined them at the Wall. They bring with them irrefutable proof of the coming of the Army of the Dead."

"You mean that…" Arya asked.

"They've found it," Rickon said, smirking at the gaping faces surrounding him. "They've found the wight. and they're bringing it back here for all to see."

The Riverlands 302 AC.

Dany.

She was excited, eager to see the North and to spend time speaking to Jon Snow without the worry of Tyrion or Varys or even Olenna watching their each and every move. The words he'd said to her about the prisoners. The raven arriving from his brother just as he said it would and the advice and counsel he'd already given to her made her keen to see if this too was true. She need to know that there was an actual army of dead things moving to the Wall and seeking to cross it and into the North and the rest of Westeros itself. It scared and worried her that it would be so and yet the idea that in this, just like in all the other things he had told her, Jon Snow spoke the truth, excited her.

How long had it been since she could trust someone completely? Since she could look at a man and know that the words he spoke to her were not part of some game or plan? Other than Grey Worm and Missandei she had none that she trusted without question. Not even Jorah or Daario had earned that right and yet the man who held on tightly to her armored waist was very close to her doing so. Armor, it was such a simple thing, and yet no one else had ever thought of having her wear it or sought her protected so. No one until Jon Snow, she thought smiling as she sought a place for them to land and rest for the night. She'd been given many gifts over the years, most of them expected and though welcomed and appreciated, they weren't given for nothing in return. This one it seemed was.

" My queen, for you." Missandei said pointing to the bundle on the table.

" For me?" she asked, moving to it and looking it over.

" To keep you safe. Lord Snow suggested and designed it." Missandei said and her smile was a fond one as she did so.

" Lord Snow wished me to be armored?" Dany asked looking at the breastplate, leg coverings, and the small helm.

" He did, my queen. While you were gone we spoke together. I shared my worries with him and he suggested that perhaps it would be for the best if in the future you were armored. When I told him I thought it was a most excellent idea and then asked him if he could design such, he did so."

" Then I must thank him for his thoughts." she said as Missandei nodded eagerly.

" He seems like a good man, my queen."

It was with these thoughts that she finally landed and once her guards had climbed down, Jon Snow did so too. His hand was held out to help her down which she accepted even though she needed no help to dismount from Drogon's back. Once she was on the ground she moved to thank Drogon for bringing her here so quickly and noticed once again how he seemed to move to Rhaegal. Her son had shown an interest in Jon Snow that he'd not shown in anyone but her before and that interest was more than returned. Dany still remembering how her breath had stilled when she'd seen him brush his hand against Rhaegal's scales and had heard her son's trill at the touch.

All three dragons took to the sky to go and hunt for their own meals, Rhaegal doing so reluctantly and looking back not at her but at the man who stood staring up at him. Once they were out of sight, they then began to set up their camp for the night. More so than anything this had been what she'd looked forward to and watching as Jon Snow set up the fire and began to cook the food they'd brought with them was comforting to her for some reason. As was when he sat down beside her and they ate their meal together, simple as that meal was.

"I never thanked you for my armor, Jon Snow." Dany said as she finished her meal.

"Missandei had it made, your grace."

"It was your idea was it not?" she asked and he nodded "Then I thank you, Jon Snow." she said, smiling at him.

"Jon."

"What?"

"You should call me Jon, your grace. As much as I enjoy hearing my name spoken, it's a mouthful to speak it how you do." Jon Snow, Jon, said almost nervously.

"Jon." she said softly and though she wasn't looking directly at him, she did see the small smile that appeared on his face.

"Daenerys." she said after a moment and he looked at her, his eyes staring so intently at her that she felt her breath quicken "If I'm to call you Jon, then you should call me by my name too." she said and she worried he'd tell her it was not proper only to have to stifle a gasp at hearing her name said in his northern brogue for the first time.

"Daenerys." he said and she shivered at the way it sounded coming from him.

"What can I expect in the North, Jon? What type of reception?" she asked, looking to break the spell she was in danger of falling under.

"The North is a hard place to live in, Daenerys." he said and she felt that shiver once again, thankfully slighter this time "And its people are stubborn and not forgetful. To them, you will be your father's daughter, your brother's sister. They may not take kindly to being reminded of either."

"Even though I'm neither of them?" she asked and he nodded while looking at her sympathetically.

"However the North Remembers, Daenerys. It's something my father and his lords would say all the time and seeing the wight, seeing what my brother has shown them and then hearing that you are willing to help them in the time of their greatest need, they will remember that." he said determinedly "As will I." he added and the way he said the last part made her willing to forgo a welcome if need be.

The thoughts of this man seeing her as better than her name would have her seen as, of seeing her perhaps as a woman and not a queen, were ones she most wished to concentrate on.

"Tell me more about your family, Jon?" she said and she watched as he relaxed even more "Arya, this is the sister you've spoken of most fondly?" she asked hoping she got the name right and hadn't mixed her up with the one he spoke on less so.

"Aye. She is. She was a fierce little thing, wild and untamed like the North itself and full of life. Mischievous, troublesome, and the most loyal friend anyone could ever wish for. Arya may have been a lady by birth, Daenerys, but not by nature and I reckon time has only made that more so, I hope so at least." he said, his fondness for his little sister was clear and again she felt her heart stir a little.

"And Bran, was it?"

"Aye. My brother liked to climb, but he climbed too high and too far… I." she reached out and touched his hand and felt how he tensed and then relaxed, allowing her hand to rest on his own.

As much as she wished to speak on her own memories of her own childhood, the good times or even to ask Jon about his, for some reason the words that came out of her mouth next surprised both him and her and changed the mood somewhat.

"I never truly thanked you truly for your counsel, for securing me the Reach when had I listened to others I'd have lost it and Lady Olenna too." she said and the way he looked at her showed that the moment of whatever it may have turned into between them was gone. for now at least.

"Tyrion gave bad advice, Daenerys. He let his own feelings and wants influence what yours should be. May I ask you a question?" he said and she nodded "Why do you listen to him?"

"He is my Hand, my adviser, does not a queen listen to her advisers?" she asked curiously.

"Listen, Aye. It doesn't mean she follows that advice though. Whose advice did you follow in Essos? In Meereen?"

"You know of Meereen?" She asked surprised and was glad to see the smile that appeared on his face when he answered.

"I heard things from some of the Dothraki that I sparred with. So I then spoke to Missandei to find out more. Was it true that Tyrion tried to do a deal with slavers?" he asked and how he said the last word would have endeared him to Missandei and Grey Worm just as much as it did to her.

"He did, they broke the terms of it and had I and the Khalasar not arrived…" she said leaving it at that.

"So whose advice were you listening to there?" he asked and she shook her head.

"I know Essos, Jon. I spent most of my life there and know the minds of the Masters and Magisters. I understand how the people there think and have never felt doubt over my decisions, but here….Westeros is…"

"The same but different." he said and she nodded.

"So I listened to Tyrion and Varys and others. You're saying I should not?" she asked.

"I'm saying you should listen but not always follow. You're a dragon and at times you need to be a dragon. Was what you did to the Lannister army the right or wrong thing?" he asked and she answered almost before he had finished speaking.

"The right thing." she said firmly.

"And what would you have done had there been no Tyrion to advise you? What action would you have taken had you arrived here just with those who came with you from Essos?"

"I'd have taken King's Landing and sought to bring Westeros to my side, willingly or not." she said and Jon smiled at her, making her look into his eyes to try and read his mood more truly.

"I'm not telling you to attack or force people to your side, Daenerys. There are other ways to do so, but it should not be something that you fear doing."

"What of my father, brother?" she asked and he looked at her confused "Will I not be seen as the same as them?"

"Perhaps, but to some they'll see you that way regardless. You ally with those you can, bring them to your side with words if you can. Lady Olenna, Lady Ellaria, they shared a common goal and so they could and did seek to be your ally."

"And the North?" she asked and saw him pause, a frown coming over his face before he answered.

"Will seek things too. My people won't wish to kneel, my king will not wish it and I must serve my king." he said and she looked at him and smiled, the thought coming to her head was one that was both wicked and fun.

"Are you suggesting an alliance with the King in the North, Jon Snow? A marriage perhaps? Am I to ask for your brother's hand?" she asked and he looked at her before laughing loudly.

"I should hope not, my brother is but ten namedays old, I'd see him enjoy some more of his youth before he's wed." Jon said and she felt it then, the question was on the tip of her tongue and before she could stop it the words were out of her mouth.

"Perhaps I should seek another husband then, one who can offer me just as much?" she said and as soon as she did so she knew she'd said the wrong thing. Jon stiffened, his posture straightened and he looked at her far differently than he had up to then.

"Perhaps you should, your grace." he said and she watched him rise to his feet "I should make sure we're secure before we rest for the night.

He was gone before she got the chance to call him back and before she had the chance to explain what she had meant, and he was gone for some time. The next morning when they broke their fast he seemed back to himself somewhat and she wished to speak to him and to clarify her thoughts. To tell him she wasn't speaking of any other, but of him, and yet she found she could not. They flew for hours and she felt the coldness when they reached what she assumed to be the North. The lands beneath them were covered in what she believed to be snow, though she'd never seen it and so couldn't be sure.

The feel of his arms around her waist was most welcoming and once or twice she felt his hot breath on the back of her neck. Nevermore so than when the large imposing keep came into view and she knew then she had reached their destination. Was there any doubt in her mind that she was right, it would have been dispelled by the word spoken in her ear. The sound was so close that if she moved just slightly she'd have felt his lips touch her and she almost did so just to find out what they felt like.

"Winterfell." Jon Snow said, his voice hoarse and his words spoken in a whisper and as Dany bid Drogon land, it was other whispers that she wished him to speak to her.