Winterfell 303 AC.
Sansa Stark.
Sansa's hold on her brother was so strong that she could feel her arms begin to hurt, her eyes closed as they flew over the land. Ever since she'd seen the Moon Door in the Eyrie open up before her and had watched her aunt Lysa plummet to her death, Sansa nursed a secret fear of heights. Yet she found it wasn't the flight North that made her fearful, nor the fact that she was sitting on the back of a fire-breathing dragon.
She was afraid this was all a dream. That she hadn't managed to get away from Littlefinger and that Jon had never come for her. Sansa feared that the warmth of the body she felt against her despite the cold, was a lie, and so something she didn't want to think about. How could it be real? How could Jon be riding on a dragon by himself? Why would he wish her with him after all she'd said and done?
"We're almost home, Sansa," she heard Jon say and her hold on him tightened as she prayed it was true and not just her mind playing her tricks.
Her heart beat faster in her chest when she felt the dragon descend and as they finally landed, she didn't realize she was sobbing until Jon mentioned it.
"Stop crying, sister. You're safe, now. You've done what's needed to be done and soon we'll get you home where everyone's waiting for you." Jon said softly, comfortingly.
She then sobbed harder. Now she knew it was all a dream and so she wished she would never wake up from it. Her family hated her; Jon had made clear in their last conversation that they didn't consider her as part of their pack.
"Sansa. Look at me," Jon said firmly and she shook her head, refusing to allow the dream to end yet. "You have nothing to fear from me, you know that?"
She nodded and finally complied, gasping as her teary eyes locked with the worried ones of her brother.
"You came… You really came for me…" she whispered before falling into his embrace. "So everything… Littlefinger… I did it? I really did it?"
"Yes, sister. You did it."
"How did you find me? How did you know…"
"The Hound. I'm ashamed to say that I thought you were gone when he came to me, but I guess he knows you better than we do. He was convinced that you wouldn't leave us, especially not with Littlefinger."
"You really thought I would choose them over you?" she said, hurt.
"I'm sorry, truly. With our last conversation and the ultimatum I gave you, I thought… Then we realized your clothes were still in your rooms and when the Hound told us that Littlefinger had set off in a different direction than the Lords of the Vale, we immediately feared the worst. So I went to Rhaegal and sought you out."
"Rhaegal… The dragon?" she said and he nodded. "How did you… That's how you managed to arrive so quickly from the South! By the Gods… We really flew on a dragon? How did you do it?" she asked the words stumbling from her mouth.
She could see Jon tense and feared that she had said something she shouldn't have. Had Daenerys gifted him to him? Were they lovers?
"I promise I will explain everything about Rhaegal later, but for now, I would like you to keep his presence secret to anyone who isn't part of our family. Can you do this for me?" he asked and Sansa nodded.
"Where are we?" she asked a moment later.
"The Wolfswood. We'll have to walk a little to get to Winterfell. Do you feel you can do it?"
"I…" Jon's laugh startled her and she frowned in confusion as she saw a horse trotting to them. "How?"
The horse came to her and seemed to look at her with unveiled interest, making her turn away slightly scared.
"She is fine, Brother. Thank you for sending us help." Jon said, confusing her further.
"Brother?" she asked.
"There are a lot of things we need to talk about, but let us go home first, shall we?"
She watched as Jon talked to the dragon, who seemed happy judging by the sound he let out, and then they both mounted the horse to take her home, where she hoped her family would not shun her.
Rickon and Arya were near the stables, as was Ser Davos when they arrived, and Sansa tensed, feeling self-conscious when they approached. Jon had ordered Lyn Corbray to give her his coat so she could cover herself, but she could still feel the blood on her and she briefly wondered what she would look like to her family. Though this wondering was soon gone and she was surprised and deeply touched when Rickon ran to her to embrace her wholeheartedly.
"You look like shit," he said, holding her tight and she lost it at that moment.
Was she laughing? Crying? She couldn't tell. Her emotions were overwhelming and the only thing she cared about was the feeling of Rickon's arms around her. She watched Arya carefully walk over to them as if Sansa was a dangerous animal about to snap or a frightened one about to bolt, and she wanted so much to tell her sister that she would never hurt her, but she was unable to utter anything but sobs.
She felt Jon behind her shielding her and she finally crumbled, letting him lift her in his arms and clutching onto him while Rickon and Arya followed silently. Now she was sure she was crying hysterically, unleashing all her fears about what could have happened to her and her relief to just be with her brothers and sister once more. She heard Davos speaking about sending Maester Wolkan to see to her needs and Jon agreeing to it. She then heard Rickon's voice telling her that she was safe, but it was Arya's voice that brought her back to reality when she ordered her brothers to leave them alone. Panic set into her heart and she pleaded with them not to leave, only for Arya to put her hand on her cheek.
"They will be back. You are covered in blood Sansa. We need to clean you up before the Maester arrives. Here, let me…"
She felt the cold damp tissue brush her face and did not move as Arya proceeded to clean her face. She couldn't remember the last time her sister looked at her with the concern she was now showing while removing the blood staining her skin.
"It is not my blood…" she managed to say.
"I figured. Littlefinger's?" Arya asked softly and she nodded. "Did he… Hurt you?"
"He did not have time." she said relievedly.
"Good." Arya said leaving no room for doubt that she meant it truly.
Sansa said nothing more, not wanting to imagine what would have happened if she hadn't been trained by her sister. She was sure Jon could have dealt with Littlefinger by himself or with the Dragon, but by the time he'd arrived, Littlefinger would have had his way with her. She was about to thank her when she noticed they were not in her room.
"I… can you take me to my room, I…"
"Aye, I'll take you." Arya replied, her soft smile warming Sansa's heart, which almost burst out with joy when she saw Jon and Rickon outside waiting for them when they left the room.
She was home. She was with her family and they did not seem to hate her. That to her was more than she felt she deserved, but she would take it even if it only lasted a day. The feeling of belonging was something she knew she had longed for, though it was even stronger than she'd ever expected it to be. It made her almost feel complete in a way that she'd not ever known before, a way that she hoped was not to be just fleeting and was in fact here to stay.
King's Landing 303 AC.
Dany.
The Great and the Good had been called to attend her coronation; ravens had been sent out in her name and others in the name of her Hand. Varys had made his own requests and demands as well. Words had been sent that were far less direct than she would have wished and yet perhaps more needed given how they'd worked. All but two of the so-called Seven Kingdoms had answered, The Vale and the North not sending any representatives and Dany found she only wished that one of them was here. No that wasn't true, she wished the Vale had come and accepted the words she'd sent them, but she wanted the North to be here, she wanted Jon to be here.
Ever since Olenna and Varys had told her the truth of who Jon was, she'd wanted to see him, to speak to him, and to see if he still looked at her as he had. They had left things between them unsaid and undone and she wondered now if this would change how he felt about her. It didn't change how she felt about him, far from it. Olenna had been right when she'd named Jon as the best choice for a husband and that was before she'd found out who he truly was and before Olenna had known about Rhaegal. Now she felt her very blood call out to him and she hoped that his own called out to her just as keenly.
"You look incredible, my Queen." Missandei said and Dany turned to look at herself in the looking glass.
The dress was pure white and for a moment she saw an image of another ceremony playing out in her head. She looked down to see the outlines of the dragons, the three-headed sigil of her house, and felt how soft the silk was against her skin. With a nod to Missandei, she turned and they walked to the door, Grey Worm, Qhono, and Ser Jorah standing there waiting for her.
"Khaleesi." Qhono said breathlessly as he looked at her and had she any doubt of how she looked, it would be gone now.
"My queen." Grey Worm said wearing the closest thing to a smile she was like to see on his face this day.
Jorah was speechless, Dany noticing what looked to be tears in his eyes as he took in the sight of her and it took him a moment or two to speak.
"Khaleesi, you look like a vision from the very gods themselves." he said as she thanked him and then they began to move through the Red Keep.
Olenna and Varys waited for them near the carriages and it was the older woman who walked to her, the smile she wore on her face a true one, Dany felt.
"You look every inch a queen, your grace. People will speak of this day for years to come." Olenna said.
"All is prepared for later?" she asked and Olenna nodded as Dany then climbed up onto her silver and was joined on horseback by those closest to her, Olenna and Varys would be taking the carriages instead.
When they'd planned this, it had been suggested that she rode in a carriage, but she'd shot down that idea. Queen of the South she may be, but she was and had been a Khalessi for longer than anything else and so she would be seen as such. Around her rode more than two hundred of her Khalasar and the same number of her Unsullied marched. She led the way with her silver, with Jorah and Grey Worm to one side and Qhono at her rear, Missandei riding just a little behind her.
As they rode through the city she heard chants of Dragon Queen and Silver Princess and heard her mother's name being called out alongside her brothers and her own. Looking at the smiling faces of the people as she passed them by, she wondered how much of their joy was truly for her and how much was because Cersei Lannister was no more. If it was half and half then she'd accept it, because she knew she'd make it so it was far less about the lioness in time. Upon reaching the remnants of the Great Sept, the full extent of the damage that had been done here was made apparent and Dany found her eyes drawn back to the carriage that Olenna was riding in. She'd refused to do this here at first, knowing how much pain this place had caused her Hand, and yet Olenna had insisted.
"Hail to Queen Daenerys."
"Long Live the Silver Princess."
"Rhaella's Daughter."
"The Dragons have returned."
She had to admit hearing the words being shouted did make her pride flare up a little. Illyrio may have lied to them all those years ago, people may not have been toasting their name or sewing their banners in secret, but now they'd be doing at least one of those things. Dismounting off the horse as easily as if she was wearing her riding apparel and not a long flowing white dress, she waited for the signal from Ser Jorah and then made her way up the steps that were left, and to the wide-open space that had once been the Great Sept.
Standing waiting for her was the High Septon and as she walked up the steps, to her left and right stood the Lords and Ladies who'd come to pledge their fealty and those who were already here. Yara stood with Theon, both of them looking at her and seeming pleased to be there. Tyrion stood with a man she knew not, the smile he wore on his face a forced one she felt. There were lords from the Reach, from the Westerlands, Edmure Tully had come as had some of the Riverlords and the newly named Aurane Velaryon stood to one side in his ridiculous hat. Dany smiled at Lady Ellaria and Tyene, the Sand Snake, had been joined by her sister Sarella who was soon to be named the Princess of Dorne. As she reached the top of the steps she turned and was soon joined by the rest of her party, Missandei now standing with Olenna and Varys, as Qhono moved to his men and Grey Worm to his own. Jorah was the only one who did not, the Lord Commander of her Queensguard taking up his position behind the High Septon, hand on sword just in case.
"My Lords and Ladies, Good Men and Women of Westeros and Beyond, we are here today on this auspicious occasion to Crown a new Queen. A True Queen. For far too long the Iron Throne has been sat by usurpers and those not worthy, today that changes as the family that forged it, now once again takes back their rightful place. Your grace if you would." The High Septon said and Dany knelt down on the cushion that was provided as she saw the Septa step forward holding the crown in her hands.
She looked out to the sea of faces that stared up at her, none seeming put out or unhappy that this day had come, most seeming truly joyful. Her own people most of all.
"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden Crone, Stranger. In the light of the Seven who are one we do today crown Daenerys Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, The Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm." the High Septon spoke the words as the crown was placed on her head.
There was no actual weight in the crown, the golden bands were bejeweled with tiny rubies and it was so thin that even a babe could lift it easily. Yet she felt the weight of it still. As she looked out upon those present, she felt it truly for the first time. She was now responsible for their well-being, for their safety and given what was coming for them, that was a monumental task to undertake. Closing her eyes she imagined the dark-haired and grey-eyed man by her side, the man who would, she hoped, share that burden, the man she longed to see.
"I give you Her Grace, Queen Daenerys Targaryen, the First of Her Name. Long may she reign."
"Long may she Reign!."
"Long may she Reign!"
"Long may she Reign!."
As she rose to her feet the cheers began and she heard the sounds of clapping, those around her having started it first. Her people, Olenna and Varys, Ellaria and her girls, Yara and Theon, and then the other Lords and Ladies joined in. The sound of the cheers was soon drowned out when Drogon and Viserion flew over her head, her children roaring their own approval and she wondered if somewhere in the North her other child was doing so too. She felt that he was and she hoped that he knew how much she missed him, him, and his rider.
Winterfell 303 AC.
Arya.
She had wanted to believe that Jon was wrong, that her sister had simply done as Arya thought she had. Sansa had finally shown her true colors and left with the Knights of the Vale and Littlefinger because the South was where she truly belonged and wished to be. Her feelings for her sister had been so full of anger and dare she say it, hatred, that she couldn't even grasp the concept that she'd been taken against her will. The mere idea that she hadn't wished to leave in order to regroup and come up with some other way of taking the North for herself, not even entering her mind until it did.
Then her anger had been directed at a much more deserving target. Littlefinger and the Knights of the Vale and only that Jon had made her concerned about Rickon's safety and that she worried that they'd try to harm her brother still, or nothing would have stopped her from going after them and bringing Sansa back home. Instead, it had been left to Jon to do so and she at least took comfort in that. While she feared for both her brothers, in Jon's case she knew he could more than take care of himself. Now even more so if what he'd said about the dragon was true.
How he'd become bonded to the Green Dragon she knew not, though he had promised to tell her upon his return. Something that each passing hour made her even more fearful about. Arya had tried to get Rickon to speak to her about their brother being bonded to a dragon, only for him to shut her down and tell her that it was not his story to tell. It had made her consider going to Bran to ask him, but after all that he'd done since he'd returned, she knew she couldn't trust him to be honest with her and she needed honesty. She needed the truth and for there to be no more secrets between them all, her, Jon, Rickon, and even Sansa, she wanted them to be what they always should have been, what they once were, a pack.
"What's keeping them?" she said as she paced the room.
"Jon will be back soon and Sansa will be with him." Rickon said firmly "Nymeria too." her brother added and Arya smiled knowing he was saying so for her benefit.
"Did she really say she was coming back?" she asked softly.
"Aye, she did, I told her you were more yourself, that you were her Arya once again." Rickon said and this time her smile was even truer.
She was about to say more when she heard the commotion from outside in the halls. Rickon looked to her and she moved quickly to the door to find that the horse that her brother had sent to them had been spotted. So she and Rickon hurried from the room to the stables to be there when Jon and Sansa arrived back. They arrived just in time and the sight of her sister almost stilled her heart. Sansa seemed to be covered in blood and after Rickon had moved to her, Arya did likewise.
"Sansa, who….are you…"
"It's not her blood, Arya." Jon said reassuringly and Arya nodded, not noticing the surprised look her concern had brought to Sansa's face.
"It's not my blood." Sansa said her words almost in a whisper.
Arya's thoughts went to the worst places as Jon helped their sister into the keep and into Rickon's room. She barely heard him ask for water and some clean clothes to be brought, Lyanna Mormont running off to carry out his wishes as he closed the door behind them leaving just Sansa, her, and her brothers in the room.
"You're truly unhurt?" she asked Sansa worriedly when she stopped crying and she saw the small smile and nod that Sansa gave her before Jon helped her to a seat to pour her some water to drink.
The anger she felt as the story was relayed to her only increased and increased, right up until the moment when Jon told them that Sansa had killed Littlefinger herself. Arya reached out her hand to take her sister's and was surprised that Sansa seemed to welcome the touch, her fingers gripping her own tightly as they sat and listened to Jon tell more of what happened and what was likely to occur now that it had.
"You think the fucking Vale will seek to avenge Littlefinger?" she asked angrily.
"I think we must think along those lines, Aye. Though they'll have to go through me and the North to do so." he said looking at Sansa who seemed to appreciate the words.
The knock on the door was answered by Jon as she and Rickon, who'd joined her in holding one of Sansa's hands, both looked their sister over once more. This time Sansa herself told them that she was unharmed and so they accepted her word while Jon took the clothing and the water from Lyanna Mormont and spoke some words that she didn't hear. It was her who helped Sansa wash, Arya finding that she was far more able to clean the blood off her sister than Sansa herself was and she almost chuckled when Jon and Rickon left the room so Sansa could change her clothing.
She was surprised to be asked to stay and then horrified by the scars and marks she saw on Sansa's body as she undressed and redressed. Her sister was too lost in what she was doing to notice how Arya stared and snarled as she thought that the gods were cruel to allow her to suffer so. Ramsay Snow was lucky he was dead and not even knowing how his death had come about made it seem enough to her. Were he still breathing today, then the suffering she'd put him through would go on for moons and each day she'd welcome hearing the screams and pleading he'd make.
"I… can you take me to my room, I…"
"Aye, I'll take you." she said and was once again offered a warm smile, one of the few that she and Sansa had shared over the years.
Both Jon and Rickon walked with them to Sansa's room and she watched as Jon ordered a number of guards to be placed outside them and along the corridor. Her brother took no chances with their sister's safety and then placed a kiss on Sansa's forehead as he bid her goodnight. Rickon was even more effusive, the hug he gave Sansa being one that she welcomed greatly given how tightly she hugged him back. Arya noticed the tears in her sister's eyes when they entered her room and how she wiped them away quickly so that they may go unnoticed.
"I'll stay with you tonight if you wish?" she said as Sansa nodded eagerly.
She pulled a chair to the bed and watched as Sansa lay down under the covers still fully dressed. To her surprise it was facing her that Sansa began to drift off to sleep and not turned away and when Arya reached out her hand, Sansa almost grabbed it and pulled it to her chest.
"Thank you." Sansa said softly.
"It's nothing."
"No….for your help. I did it, what you said, I… I stuck him with the pointy end." Sansa said and as she fell to sleep, Arya felt her own tears fall softly down her cheeks.
Sansa seemed in much better spirits the next morning, her sister was awake even before she was and she thanked her for staying with her the night before, something that Arya simply waved off. Though she was not allowed to, as Sansa much to her shock, embraced her and held her for some time.
"Did you know about the dragon?" Sansa asked softly when she'd let her go.
"Jon mentioned that he and Rhaegal were bonded, but he said no more than that."
"I… we flew here, Arya. He brought me here on the dragon; it was like nothing I've….I'd not believed he'd have come for me." Sansa said and Arya took her hand and looked her in the eye.
"You're part of the pack, Sansa, of course, he'd come for you. As would I or Rickon." she said and Sansa smiled at her.
They ate together, the four of them and she'd not known them all to be so jovial and friendly in many a year. Rickon japed at Jon's expense, Jon told stories that had Sansa laughing and shaking her head and some even had her near tears she laughed so much. When they were finished, Sansa asked if she and Rickon could speak alone and Jon bid her join him in the Crypts for some reason. She briefly saw Rickon look to their brother and then he and Sansa were speaking and she and Jon were walking from the room.
She smirked as they walked into the Crypts, memories of the prank that Jon and Robb had pulled on her and Sansa all those years earlier filling her mind. Her smile though soon left her face as they passed her grandfather, uncle, and father's statues and found themselves standing in front of her aunt's. Seeing Jon place a winter rose in her aunt's outstretched hand was a surprise as was how he looked at the statue itself, her brother seeming to almost be teary-eyed as she stared at their aunt Lyanna.
"All my life I wished more than anything to know who my mother was, to know whether or not she'd loved me, wanted me, and would she have been proud of me." Jon said and as she went to speak his voice grew a little louder "Lord Stark kept that from me, hid that knowledge for me and I find I hate him for it, Arya, gods I don't wish to, but I find I've no love in my heart for him because of that and the lies he made me live."
"Fath…"
"Was who he was and I know in his way he loved me. I know he felt he did the right thing, but he didn't, not even close." Jon said angrily "I may never forgive him for the wrongs he did to me, may never be able to just accept the rights. I know I'll never forgive him for keeping my mother from me, nothing you or anyone will ever be able to say to me will make that change. Lord Stark was not my father, Arya, he was my uncle. My father was Rhaegar Targaryen and my mother was his wife, Lyanna."
Lyanna? Aunt Lyanna? But she'd been… hadn't she? Jon wasn't father's son, he wasn't her brother, he was her cousin, her cousin who wasn't a Snow or a Stark, but a Targaryen, this couldn't be right, this couldn't be true.
"You're not…" she said, unable to finish the sentence.
"I'm your brother, I've always been your brother. Look at me, little sister." Jon said as he turned her to face him "I am your brother."
"Jon." she said as she felt his arms wrap around her, the smell of him was the same as it had always been, the feel of him as he held her tightly, just as comforting as it had always been. His words were as true as they had always been: "You're my brother, you've always been my brother and you always will be my brother." she said firmly as she felt him relax but not let her go for some time.
King's Landing 303 AC.
Varys.
Watching the queen's coronation was a special experience for him. Rarely had he felt so enthused by such a thing and that it had taken so many different crownings in his lifetime to finally get to the right one, was no fault of his. Had things worked out as he'd wished, then it would have been Rhaegar himself and not his sister that Varys was witnessing being crowned and yet he hoped in time to see that wrong righted too. He hadn't been able to see the father take his rightful place, in time he'd see the son do so and that place was by the queen's side. Something he found himself ever more excited to see come to fruition.
To serve a good king and queen, to see the realm prosper and the people finally get their due, he would happily go to whatever heaven or hell awaited him once he'd seen that done. To that end, as he made his way back to the Red Keep, he was quickly joined by one of his little birds. The song was placed in his hand and he read it eagerly. The ship had set sail and would arrive on the morrow, the woman was on board and eager and Varys almost smiled at that. He hoped she'd be eager to speak to them about what had happened all those years ago, to fill in some of the blanks at least.
Arriving at the Red Keep, he made his way to the Queen's Chambers at her behest and was happy to hear the words she spoke. There would be a celebration later that night, a feast, and over the next few days, there would be the swearing of fealties. Yet the queen seemed both eager to put the realm to rights and to travel North, something that could only bear well for the future he sought for her, Jon Snow, and the realm itself. She'd accepted the need to wed her nephew, most eagerly. The love or beginnings of it that she felt for him was already there and far from a political alliance only, theirs it seemed would be one most welcomed for other reasons too.
That was something he was most pleased about. It had been some time since the realm was run by a king and queen who truly cared for each other. To have them be on the same side, the same page as each other was something that they truly needed in the days, weeks, moons, and years to come. A king not sidetracked by his lusts or appetites and a queen not concerned with her own grandiosity, two young and healthy people with their eyes focussed on what needed to be changed and righted and the will to see it done. In Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow, Varys finally believed he'd found those two people. Just as once he'd believed it of Prince Rhaegar and Elia Martell, but the prince it seemed had been a far better mummer than he'd imagined. The love he shared with his wife was more a platonic one than one of the heart. With how the queen and the man who'd soon be her king looked at each other, there was no doubt that it was a romantic form of love they shared.
"The girl asked for you, Lord Varys." a guard said as he made his way to his rooms, Varys sighing as he turned to head to rooms on the other side of the keep now instead.
When he reached them, the guard let him inside and he saw the young woman and her babe. The boy looked to him eagerly and Varys reached into his robes for the candied sweet to hand to him, his mother giving him a chiding look before the worried frown came over her face.
"You asked to see me, Gilly?" he said softly.
"Aye. Some people brought this to me and asked me to come tonight." Gilly said worriedly as she pointed out the dress.
"I think her grace sent them to you. Do you not wish to attend?" he asked and she shook her head "Then you need not, my child. I'll see food for you and Little Sam is brought to you and you can stay in your room if you wish."
"I… Thank you." she said as he turned to walk from the room, her voice stopping him in his tracks "Will we be going North soon?"
"Within the week I would wager. I've sent a raven to Lord Snow to tell him that you'll be joining us." he said to another worried frown "He won't hold what happened against you, Gilly. That man who attacked him wasn't Samwell, though he wore his face."
He'd tried to explain this to her several times and each time he knew he'd failed. At first because of her grief over the loss of Samwell Tarly and then because she couldn't understand the concept of a Faceless Man, something that Varys himself had trouble doing. It was one thing to hear of them and their deeds, another to have someone explain how it was they accomplished them. Looking at the woman and seeing her worried look, he decided to try another tack.
"Does Lord Snow seem the type of man to blame you for actions that you took no part in?" he asked and she shook her head "Does he seem the type to blame a babe for the same?"
"No."
"If you wish we can find you a place here, see you're well looked after. There is no need for you to go North if you fear it so."
"It's the only home I know." she said sadly.
"Then I'm sure it will welcome you back to it, as will Lord Snow." he said and this at least seemed to have an effect.
He believed in what he said completely, all the songs he'd gathered about Jon Snow told him so. The man could be fierce and unyielding to those who deserved it, but he was not or had not been up to now, unnecessarily cruel. In this he was the same as the queen, she too could be unyielding and even ruthless at times, but only with those who deserved to be treated that way. Varys had no love for the slave master of Essos and while Tyrion may have taken issue with how she'd treated those in Meereen, he very much did not.
What had been done to the children as a warning had backfired completely on the Great and Good Masters of Essos. They'd found Daenerys Targaryen to be of much sterner stuff than they had imagined, and in killing the children as they had, they'd only hardened her resolve and signed their own death warrants. Could she be rash, impulsive, yes at times she could, but so could any king or queen, any lord or lady. In time patience would replace any rashness and with Jon Snow by her side, he'd already seen what a help good and true advice was in that regard.
As he walked to his rooms and lay down for his nap, he found himself dreaming and contemplating the future. Images of dragons in the sky and children running around the Red Keep, of peace and prosperity filling his mind. Even later that night at the feast and at the swearing of fealties, it was this as much as those who had come to swear to the new queen that Varys thought on. His eyes may have sought out each of the lords and ladies who knelt and swore their oaths, his ears may have listened to any lie that may be in their words, but his thoughts were on the days to come.
After bidding the queen and those with her goodnight, Lady Olenna and Ser Jorah along with Missandei and Grey Worm all sat closest to the queen along with Yara Greyjoy and Ellaria Sand and her daughters, he made his way to his room and slept a comfortable night's sleep. When he woke the next morning it was with a sense of excitement as he waited for the ship to dock. The final doubts about Jon Snow were soon to be cleared up and he found he was as keen as no doubt the queen would be, to hear about those few moons at the Tower of Joy and of Prince Rhaegar and Lady Lyanna.
Seeing the woman when she walked down the gangplank took him a little by surprise. For some reason, he'd expected her to be older and had forgotten what Ned Dayne had said about him and Jon Snow being milk brothers. Wylla though was not so old, a woman in her fortieth year he'd wager and she looked as fit and healthy as any woman could be. There was a nervousness in her eyes and yet she didn't seem displeased to be there, nor by his presence when he moved to greet her.
"Lady Wylla?" he said stepping forward.
"Just Wylla, my lord."
"Then you may call me, Varys, Wylla, for truly I'm no lord either." he said with a small titter that brought a smile to her face.
"I had expected to be brought to the North, Varys, to Winterfell?" Wylla questioned.
"And you will. Her grace will soon be heading North to meet up with Jon Snow." he left the name hang and saw the smile grow a little bigger at Wylla's hearing of it "We felt it for the best if you joined that party to ensure that you reached the North without delay."
"I thank you for your concern. I find myself most eager to see the North at last. Long have I wished to be given leave to travel to it."
"I believe her grace would like to speak to you before and during your travels, Wylla, would you join me." he said pointing to the carriage and seeing her nod as she walked with him and then climbed inside.
There was a warm greeting from Ned Dayne when she arrived at the Red Keep, the young Lord of Starfall almost as keen as the woman herself and the queen to finally head north and now even more so when he found out that Wylla was to join them. Though he had no doubt the woman would have liked to get settled in the Red Keep, he found himself eager to bring her to meet the queen. Daenerys was most interested in what Wylla had to say and Varys hoped that when she met and spoke to the queen, Wylla's lips would loosen even a little. In one respect he somewhat got his wish, the words Wylla spoke when he introduced her to Daenerys, soon proving some of what they knew.
"Your grace, this is Wylla, the lady we spoke about."
"Wylla, I've heard so much about you, it's an honor to finally meet you." Daenerys gushed and Wylla stood silent as she looked at her.
"You look so much like him, you can truly only be his sister." Wylla said after a few moments of awkward silence.
"You truly knew my brother?" Dany asked excitedly, she may have known that this was true but there was a difference between hearing it from him or others and hearing it from the woman herself.
"I know him as well as most, your grace. He was my prince, his wife my princess." Wylla said happily.
"You knew Princess Elia?" Daenerys asked only to hold her hand to her mouth when she realized her mistake.
"No, I knew Princess Lyanna, your grace."
Winterfell 303 AC.
Rickon Stark.
The last few days had been overwhelming for the boy and his entourage and he couldn't help but think that it was his fault. He had been so focused on Jon and keeping him safe that he had neglected the rest of his Pack. Worse, his absence had aggravated the tensions between the North and the Vale, and his family had almost paid dearly for that.
Sansa's abduction was the result of his negligence and he felt so guilty he wasn't there for his sister as he should have been. Once again he'd acted selfishly, preferring to enjoy Jon's company instead of looking out for Sansa. Nymeria's words when he shared her mind came to him as soon as he heard of Sansa's disappearance. He had acted like a brat, like a child, because he had been too scared to lose Jon, and he had almost lost Sansa because of it.
When he searched for her at Jon's request, he didn't know if he could do it. He concentrated on Sansa and soon found her door, which meant that she was still alive, but while he forbade himself to go through it, he could still feel her emotions. Her panic and despair echoed through his very being. Rage filled him when he then focused on Littlefinger and he contemplated entering his mind to force him back to Winterfell. He didn't care about the man and wanted him dead anyway, so what difference would it make to control his mind?
Then you would be no better than your brother.
He didn't know where this voice came from, nor did he have time to question it more fully, but he knew he didn't want to be like Bran and so he focused on the animals around them. He traveled into a willing horse that was riding in their party and who shared with him what he had heard about Littlefinger's plans. Rickon thanked him for his help before telling Jon where it was they were heading.
This experience troubled him greatly. The fact that he had thought about doing something that he knew was wrong, and with almost no remorse, upset him. He knew it could be justified by the situation, or by his desire to save his family, but what would Osha think of him if she was here? Would she think him a monster as she had Bran when he'd warged into Hodor?
He tried to put these thoughts aside when he felt Jon and Sansa were close by and he shared the mind of a horse from the stables to go and look for them in the Wolfswood. The image of a bloody Sansa would forever be imprinted on his mind and he felt even more guilty for not talking to her sooner.
Despite Jon and Arya's assurance that Sansa was well and would quickly recover and the relief he felt when he heard that she was the one to end Littlefinger's life, the guilt would not go away.
He could not sleep that night, as he was too consumed by his thoughts and his concern for Sansa to manage to close his eyes. He missed Ghost's reassuring presence, even though Jon was there with him offering his own.
"You did well today, brother." Jon said as he sat on the floor next to him.
"Did I, really?" Rickon scoffed bitterly. "I failed Sansa. We all failed her."
"I know how you feel, Rickon." Jon sighed, making him frown. "When I received word that you wouldn't wake up and I was stuck in the South, I felt like I had abandoned you when you needed me the most. I feel the same for Sansa now and I know you do, too. I was trying to be the best brother you could have but I turned out to be the worst."
"But you aren't the worst!" he said firmly shocked that Jon would think such thoughts.
"That's what you say, but not how I feel."
"You came back. And you went to Sansa. If it weren't for you, we would have lost her. She was surrounded by people who would not have hesitated to kill her after what she did."
"And I got there thanks to you. You told me where to look. You were the one to save Sansa." Jon said rubbing his shoulder as he spoke.
"Yet I feel like shit. It should never have happened in the first place. We should have killed Littlefinger when we could."
"You're right, but what is done is done. It will do us no good to dwell on the past. We have another chance with our sister. The only thing we can do now is to take it and do better."
"I almost did it, you know?" Rickon admitted, to his shame, continuing when Jon looked at him inquisitively. "I almost forced myself onto his mind. Osha told me once that there was not a worse crime for a warg than to go inside a man's mind. That it was forbidden. But it was so tempting… I could have controlled him before he hurt Sansa. I could have made him do my bidding."
"I heard it too from another warg. Orell was his name. He had an eagle as a familiar. Gods I hated that man and he hated me too." Jon said his hand touching the scars on his face.
"What happened to him?"
"I had to kill him. His mind went to his eagle when he died and the eagle tried to kill me too. Fun times…" Jon chuckled, making Rickon smile too. "You're just starting to use your ability. The Free Folk think that warging is both a gift and a curse, given the person who can use it is able to skin change. They say that the way someone uses their power reveals their true heart. Your heart is a good one, listen to it and to your instincts. If it tells you that something is wrong, then it's because it is. Do not let this power corrupt you into being what you are not"
Rickon nodded, thinking back to the voice he heard and to his other brother. Was Bran heart's corrupted by his power? Had it made him become the emotionless person that Rickon now saw every day? He couldn't say, and in truth a part of him didn't want to know either.
He tried to put his thoughts aside and focus on his sister the next day. Sansa seemed better than the night before but he noticed the nervousness she felt every time she saw or heard someone who wasn't family. He had told Lyanna to keep the Lords of the North at bay for now and his friend did what he'd asked even though he knew she was curious to hear the whole story too. When Sansa asked to speak to him privately, he was afraid of what she wanted to say. Was she angry at him? Disappointed? Hurt that he hadn't been a good brother to her?
"I… I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for everything." she said, catching him off guard. "I thought I was doing what was right and to the best of my abilities. I… I think I finally understand you and so I'm truly sorry for how I acted before, for the words I said, and for giving up on you…"
"Sansa, don't…"
"I have to say it. You were right. I knew what Ramsay would do to you and I didn't act to save you. It broke my heart but I didn't even try while Jon never even thought about putting you aside. When I was… When Littlefinger captured me I thought I would never see you again. Worse, I feel like you wouldn't care and you would feel relieved not to have me around anymore…" Rickon wanted to interrupt her but she shook her head. "I know this is not true. I know it now and I thank you for not giving up on me. When I saw Jon I… When he said that we were still pack, it was as if a piece of me I didn't know was missing came into place. That's when I realized. When I knew how deeply it must have hurt you when you heard what I said…"
"It's in the past, now, Sister. I haven't been the best when it comes to you either. I should have done more."
"Do not blame yourself for my failures, Rickon. You and Arya and Jon, you reacted that way because I wronged you, and the North. Yet when I needed you the most, you were there. I can't say the same about myself." Sansa said her words firm.
"I know you stayed with me when I was… away. I saw you, Sansa. And I could feel that you loved me." Rickon said, feeling the emotion catch in his throat.
"I do, By the gods, I was so scared I feared I would never get to tell you how much I do…"
"What?"
"What?" Sansa frowned, confused, while Rickon decided to tease her to change the mood of the conversation -that was getting too emotional for his liking.
"What did you want to tell me?"
"Well… This?" she said looking at him confusedly.
"Meaning?" Rickon insisted, smirking and making Sansa stare at him with annoyance.
"What I just told you!"
"Which was?"
"Rickon!"
"Aye, I love you too, sister!" Rickon laughed wholeheartedly and then embraced his now annoyed sister.
He could feel her relax in his arms and she returned the hug while chuckling. He enjoyed her closeness and thanked the Old Gods for the second chance they had given him before they were then interrupted by the noise at the door.
"I don't care if the fucking king asked not to be disturbed! I want to see her now! so help me, if you do not let me through…" The hound shouted out.
"I should go talk to him," Sansa said sheepishly. "Before he hurts someone."
"Aye, you should. He really cares about you, you know?"
"I've always known…" she retorted, smiling brightly before rushing to the door.
He watched with amusement how Brienne, Tormund, and the Hound all fussed over Sansa who kept repeating that she was well. Then he felt a tug in his mind and rushed to the yard, only to find Ghost, Nymeria, and her whole pack there. He could hear the worried voices of the smallfolk and the awed whispers of the Free Folk as the wolves all stood diligently, not moving an inch as if they were waiting for guest rights.
"My pack welcomes you here and I as King in the North vow that you always have a place to stay here. You are free to do as you please and will be under my protection. Should any man or woman try to hurt you, they will be dealt with by me if you do not do so yourself," he finished with a smirk answered by a nod by Nymeria.
He watched with bated breath as she turned to her pack and they all howled their agreement, Ghost watching with something akin to pride as his sister led hers to do so. His excitement grew as he saw Jon escort Arya out of the crypts and his sister gasped as she caught the scene in front of her.
"You came! You really came!" Arya yelled, running to Nymeria who had her beat in speed and pinned her while licking her face happily.
Seeing the joy in her sister's face made Rickon think about everything she and his kin had gone through. They had led a very rough life when they would never have expected that to be their fate because of their upbringing. Their father had sheltered them so much that they weren't prepared for the harsh reality of the world, he more than the others due to his age, and they'd suffered greatly because of that and all of them to an extent had closed themselves to others.
Bran had changed completely, erasing his feelings while Rickon lashed out in anger at everyone he didn't trust. Sansa pushed those she loved away and surrounded herself with people she knew were dangerous to her, though Rickon still didn't understand why she kept making the wrong choices until now. Arya was wary of everyone and wanted to be No One at some point and Jon… Jon forsook himself completely to do what was best for everyone else. All of them chose to bury their feelings and fears so as to not be hurt, and all of them were surviving rather than living up to this point. They would still need to survive the Army of the Dead, but Rickon would make sure that when they did, they would get over their fears and start living life to its fullest. Starting with Jon.
As much as he wanted to keep his brother with him, Rickon felt that he was not what would make Jon happy. He needed to be his own person, not to be in the shadow of a King or to be simply a servant of the North, and Rickon also had to get over his own fear of losing him. He knew, felt in his heart that wherever Jon would be, he would come back to him should he need him and their family. He still feared for his life and his well-being, but he saw the way Jon worried about Daenerys and her own feelings towards him. His brother was in love and even a blind man could see it.
Feeling the weight of a stare on him, he turned from the scene in front of him and his gaze locked with Bran's. How at times the fucker moved so swiftly, Rickon didn't know, but the shake of his brother's head, rather than deterring him, reinforced his desire to talk to the Lords that night.
They met in the Great Hall per his request, with Sansa sitting back at the High table, near Arya, and Bran at the end of it. Rickon made the message clear of who he favored and who he didn't.
"As you know, Lord Baelish has committed a great crime against the North. While under guest rights, he abducted my sister, Sansa, counting on dissension in our ranks for us not to seek to run after her. However, whatever wrongs my sister has done cannot condone this action."
"Lord Baelish is now dead, killed at my sister Sansa's own hands, and because of that we may face a potential war with the Knights of the Vale should they wish to claim retribution for their Liege's Regent." Jon added.
"Let them come!" Larence Snow. "They'll soon find out the hard way how dutifully the North protects their own."
"We went to war because a daughter of House Stark was abducted once, we would go to war to protect another whose life has wrongfully been threatened and who defended herself as any Northern Lady should have." Lyanna declared sternly and Rickon saw Jon wince from out of the corner of his eyes.
"I thank you, my Lord, my Lady. I have sent a raven to Lords Glover and Cerwyn at Moat Cailin so that they intercept the Knights of the Vale so this can be explained in person, while other arrangements will be made to bring back the Lords who helped kidnap my sister to Winterfell. Once those particular men are returned they will then be judged by NorthernLaw for the crimes they've committed." he said to cheers.
"The fuckers from the Vale won't stand by and watch you slay their own," The Hound, who hadn't left Sansa's side since she had been brought back, declared. "They'll accuse Sansa of lying and they'll ask for a trial by combat if you refuse to judge her for Littlefinger's death"
"We're well aware of it, Clegane, and were they to challenge my sister, they'll find Longclaw stands ready to defend her," Jon answered, making Rickon smirk and Sansa gasp in shock.
"You would be my champion?" she asked Jon weakly.
"Of course. We're family, Sansa. They'll have to get through me before they can get to you." his brother replied assuredly.
"And they'll find me in their way too," Brienne then said determinedly.
"You know I'll kill them all. You only have to ask," Clegane added gruffly.
"Same for me," Arya said and Sansa's smile grew even larger at their sister's words. "Although now that you showed that my teachings have not been for naught, I think I can make a knight out of you quickly enough for you to kill them yourself." Arya added to loud cheers.
"She did take Littlefinger's little finger!" Tormund yelled out to laughs from the others.
"Aye, my Sister, the Red Wolf," Rickon said proudly, and soon all in attendance shouted out Sansa's new moniker. He could sense she was on the verge of crying, but she needed to feel that this action had brought her somewhat back in the North's good graces.
"How do you feel, Lady Sansa?" Lord Manderly asked once things had calmed down, the Lord of White Harbor sounding genuinely concerned.
"I am well, Lord Wyman. Still a little shaken, but I am relieved to be home. I have a lot to atone for, with my family and with you, My Lords and Ladies, and I am ready to face the consequences of my actions."
"Lady Sansa has agreed to step down from the council, as proof of her good faith. She is not to get involved in Northern matters for the foreseeable future." Rickon said to fists banging on the tables in agreement. "I would now ask Lady Dustin to take her position if it pleases you, my lady"
"Me, Your Grace?" Barbrey said, obviously surprised.
"From what I heard, you've worked hard with Ser Davos and Lord Manderly and have been most vocal against the Knights of the Vale, so I know you will fight for the interests of the North and I need people willing to do this."
"An honor, Your Grace, truly. Though… May I be honest with you?"
"Honesty is what I seek, my Lady." he said nodding to the older woman.
"I do not think we should be adding more people to the Northern council… As we might not need one when the war is over…" she said to rising murmurs from the others.
"Lady Mormont, Ser Davos, and Arya have voiced your concerns to me, about Daenerys Targaryen and what should happen to the North after the war against the Dead." Rickon said. "Your concerns are valid. We stand no chance if Queen Daenerys decides to attack us before or after coming back North. She however has sent word that when she does come it will be with food, provisions -"
"And an army far stronger in numbers than our forces." Morgan Liddle said.
"Indeed, but she has respected her promise to send Jon back North when her war was won has she not? She could have kept him as a hostage and tried to bargain with us, but she didn't. She gave up something she truly wanted and agreed to set our differences aside to help us win this war, and I don't think she would attack if we agreed to give it to her."
"You're talking about the throne? You're going to bend the knee?" Wyman Manderly asked.
"Oh, no. Not the Throne. I'm talking about my brother." he said and Jon turned and stared at him with disbelief.
"Jon?" Sansa gasped. "You want to give her Jon?" his sister not sounding best pleased and he was glad it was worry about their brother that his thoughts went to regarding Sansa's motives and not anything else, Rickon knowing that was what she was leading with.
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