Ashes of Winter: The Stark Revival and the Game of Thrones

Dragonstone 302 AC.

Jon Snow.

He hated sailing, he'd not noticed how much he did so on the journey back from Hardhome, though given what they were sailing away from that was no great surprise. Since leaving White Harbor though it had been very different as Jon had time to think and being alone with his thoughts was never something he enjoyed. People said he was a brooder and this was true to an extent, what they had never understood was that he had much to brood about. Who he was? His place in the world? His mother? Father? All of that before he even made it to the Wall and since he had gone there only more and more things were added to his concerns.

Truthfully though, as it had been since his brother had been brought back, it was Rickon that he thought about. He'd sent a raven from White Harbor to let him know that he'd arrived safely and far more quickly than he'd expected. Melisandre and the men with him had kept to the pace he'd wished for them and knocked almost a week off their travel time. In White Harbor he'd been feasted, sort of. Lord Wyman's heir and his daughters were only too happy to have him in their halls and he'd even felt that the eldest of them had shown an interest in him, which he'd been at his politest to dissuade. He was still a bastard after all, despite Rickon wishing to legitimize him in his first true act as king, Jon smiling as he remembered his brother's offer.

" I could name you a Stark, Jon. As you've always been in all but name." Rickon said.

" I would welcome it too, Rickon, but it's not something you should do, not yet."

" Not yet?" Rickon asked curiously.

" Aye. To do so now would raise questions. People would say it was me who…" he said and then raised his hand when Rickon went to interrupt "Aye I know, brother and I am grateful for the thought, let's leave it until the war is over." he said and Rickon nodded.

" You're a Stark to me, Jon, no matter your name." Rickon said and Jon gave him his warmest smile, for the words touched him greatly.

He heard her footsteps as they came up behind him, Jon schooling his features as he turned to face her and he caught the look in her eye that told him she'd noticed

"We'll reach Dragonstone on the morrow, my prince." Melisandre said and he shook his head.

"My brother being a king doesn't make me a prince, my lady."

"No it does not." she said and he thought she'd leave it at that only for her to prove him wrong "Who you are is what makes you a prince, Jon Snow."

"I'm a bastard, my lady, no more and no less." he said hating naming himself as such but despite what his brother may think, he was born a Snow and was likely to die as one too, the next time for true.

"Many years ago I came to Dragonstone seeking the Prince that was Promised, did you know this?" she asked and he shook his head "I believed it to be Stannis as the fires had shown me Dragonstone and he was who I found there. He was the Prince that was Promised, Azor Ahai reborn and he'd beat back the army of darkness and those who serve the Great Other." her words carried in the wind and as he looked to her he noticed how she looked far off into the distance.

"And now you think it to be me?" he asked, almost snorting at the idea.

"At the Wall when I felt doubt I looked to the fires and begged R'hllor to show me his chosen and he showed me but one thing. Do you want to know what he showed me, Jon Snow?" Melisandre asked and despite himself, he nodded "I prayed to R'hllor for a glimpse of Azor Ahai and all he showed me was Snow." she said as she touched his shoulder and Jon felt a jolt run down his arm.

Before he could say anything to her, she was gone and she didn't join him or the men for their meal that night. His sleep was troubled to say the least, visions of Hardhome and facing off against a White Walker intermixed with the sight of the Night King as he stared at him and raised the dead. Dark grey eyes locked with those of the deepest blue and he felt the animosity directed at himself, he felt something else too, something he'd not felt at the time, he felt fear. Fear that was not his own.

The next morning he woke early and after breaking his fast with the men and with Melisandre who'd joined them this time, he once again made his way to the deck of the ship. For some reason, he felt a calling to do so, a need to be on deck when the island came into view and upon seeing it for the first time he felt his heart stir in a way it had not in many a year. Not even seeing Winterfell again after all the years away from it had made his heart beat as it did now. Though soon enough it began to race for a much different reason when he heard Melisandre's gasp and he turned to see the reason for it.

"Are those…." he heard one of the men say and as Jon looked up he didn't need to speak to say what those were.

The one at the front was as black as the night's sky and it was followed by one of gold and yet it was the green one that he found his eyes drawn to and he swore he could see its own bronze ones look at him too. It was the dragon from his vision, larger and more real than he'd ever dared to believe it would be and when it was gone from his view, he felt its loss as keenly as he did when he and Ghost were parted.

"Fire made flesh, R'hllor's gift to the world." Melisandre said almost ecstatically and then she looked to him and smiled which sent a shiver down his spine for some unknown reason.

They dropped anchor some way off from the docks, the sheer mass of ships that were docked there not allowing them to sail any closer. Jon looked to the sails and saw the Sun and Spear of House Martell, the Golden Rose of House Tyrell, and the Kraken of the ironborn, the latter bringing a snarl to his face. Above them all flew the Three-Headed Dragon and it stood resplendent in its black and red. Yet it was a poor substitute for the green that he'd just seen flying over his head mere moments earlier.

"What do we do, Lord Snow?" Artos, who served as his captain of guards, asked him worriedly.

"We came to see about Dragonglass and we've come too far to just turn back around. The North needs us to succeed, Artos. My brother, our king, wills us to." he said and Artos nodded nervously "I'll row to shore with four men and the Lady Melisandre, if you don't hear from me by nightfall, then you set sail for safer harbors, Artos."

"My Lord, you cannot." Artos said, shaking his head.

"Yet I must." he replied.

Artos and the others may be fearful, but Melisandre was anything but and surprisingly neither was he. Jon wished to land on the island, to walk on it and see if the dreams he had of it were true. He found he wished to see if the green dragon would look his way once more and knowing who was on the island, he found himself keen to see Daenerys Targaryen too. Aemon had spoken of his niece more than once and he hoped that she'd be as the old Maester had wished her. Regardless of whether she was or was not, it was to the island he was to go and so go it he would.

"We have naught to fear here, my prince." Melisandre said and Jon noticed how she looked to the sky as she spoke.

It took them almost an hour to row the distance from the ship to the island, Jon taking an oar in hand and doing as his men did much to their approval. No ship or boat came near them and it was to the beach and not the docks that they rowed. He knew that there would be men ready to greet them once they got there and that word had no doubt reached those in the keep about the Northern ship and the boat that rowed their way by now. What kind of reception awaited he knew not and yet he rowed with little care or worry and with Melisandre looking at him all the while. He was right about them being received but never would he have guessed who had been sent to greet them.

"The Bastard of Winterfell." Tyrion Lannister said as Jon took in the dwarf and those with him.

"The Dwarf of Casterly Rock." he replied smiling as he moved to him and kept one eye on the fierce-looking men and their curved blades and the beautiful dark-skinned woman who stood beside Tyrion with her hands clasped together.

"It's been a long time, Jon." Tyrion said warmly as Jon shook his hand.

"Aye, I see it's not been a kind one to you." he said sympathetically.

"No, but we're both still here, thank the gods." Tyrion said looking to Melisandre and then back to him curiously.

"May I present the Lady Melisandre." Jon said as Melisandre stood forward.

"Last we heard you were by King Stannis's side, my lady?" Tyrion asked curiously.

"Last we heard, you had killed your father." She replied which caught Tyrion by surprise and Jon too.

There was silence for a moment before Tyrion turned to the dark-skinned woman and then introduced her.

"Missandei is the queen's most trusted adviser."

"My lady." Jon said with a small bow of his head.

"Welcome to Dragonstone. Our queen is most keen to see what the men of the North have to say. However, if you'd hand over your weapons first." Missandei said friendly but firmly.

"Forgive me, my lady. My men will not be staying, so I beg your leave to allow them to leave as armed that they are." Jon said as Missandei looked to Tyrion who nodded "And you, Lord Snow?" Missandei asked.

"I'd ask for guest right before giving up my sword, my lady. Though it may not mean as much in the South as it once did, I'm hoping that your queen holds truer to her word than most." Jon said and again Missandei looked to Tyrion who nodded.

"As you wish, Lord Snow." Missandei said and it took a few moments for the bread and salt to be brought and once he and Melisandre had taken some, he handed Longclaw to the men with Tyrion, noticing how they looked at the blade appreciatively.

They spoke on things as they walked, Tyrion telling him a little about the queen he served but mainly saying it was a long story, something that Jon repeated when Tyrion asked him about the Wall. When he brought Sansa up, Jon stiffened slightly, his own feelings for his sister exacerbated by the fact that she was alone with Rickon in Winterfell and Jon offered a prayer to the Old Gods that those he'd left by his brother's side would keep him safe and protected until his return. It was just after Tyrion said that Starks don't do well in the South that he felt it, Jon, was in the middle of his reply when they flew his way.

"I'm not a Stark." he said as the dragons flew over their heads, lower now, and was he not so concentrated on the green one then he'd have seen the look of surprise on both Tyrion and Missandei's faces that he'd taken the flight in his stride.

Jon though was staring at the green dragon who flew more slowly than the other two, its scales looking magnificent in the sunlight and its eyes almost seeming to be searching out his own. He felt the shudder when they locked together, his eyes and the dragon's both looking deep into the other's souls, and for some reason he felt the name come to his lips and as he spoke it out loud, it was drowned out by the Dragon's roar.

"Rhaegal."

Winterfell 302 AC.

Rickon.

His morning spars were more and more frustrating, as he couldn't really do what he wanted. Since he accepted Brienne of Tarth's in his service as a way to placate Sansa, the warrior lady took it upon herself to train him alongside her squire Podrick Payne.

"No, Podrick. Your stance is wrong! How many times would I have need to correct you?" Brienne growled while swatting away the lad's sword, making Rickon shake his head at how harsh she was being with the young man.

He stared longingly at the other side of the yard, where Tormund and a Free Folk woman were showing Lyanna Mormont, Ned Umber, Alys Karstark, and some other boys and girls from Wintertown how to use a dagger while also wielding a sword. How he wished he could join them instead of being stuck with her! Not that she wasn't skilled, she was a big and strong woman, as Tormund loved to say, but she truly had the patience of an irritable bear when it came to teaching. He pitied her poor squire, who took most of the brunt of her displeasure, as he was older and was supposed to know more from all the years they'd spent together.

"Your Grace, stay focused and use your shield to parry Podrick's attacks?" Brienne said reproachfully.

"Why do I have to use a shield while the others don't?"

"Because I'm training you to fight as I was trained. You have more chances to survive in a fight with a shield than with two weapons."

"Why don't you teach them how to use it, then?"

"I am your Guard, Your Grace. My duty is to you first and to House Stark. Moreover, I offered Lady Lyanna my services and she refused."

"I bet she did," he mumbled, making Pod snort.

"Your Grace, I know that fighting like a wildling looks more enjoyable, but you need diligence in your training, something only someone trained in a castle can offer you. Now please, shield up." Brienne said and she did what she wished him to do as she spoke the words.

Rickon let out a loud sigh to show his annoyance but he complied nonetheless. No need to argue more with her about her perception of training, as he would ask Tormund for private lessons when the large man took over his shift.

"Want to come over and join us, King Pup?" Tormund yelled.

"I can't, Tormund. The Lady is teaching me."

"You lucky boy! I wouldn't mind some lessons from her," he said, wriggling his eyebrows at Lady Brienne who suddenly paled and looked away with an air of disgust.

"I think that means he likes you, my Lady," Rickon teased.

"Bloody Hell…" she cursed. "That man has truly no manners."

"Manners don't fill ya belly, Lady Brienne. Osha taught me that."

"Oh… You're right, your Grace, but sometimes, manners are appreciated."

"You heard that, Tormund?" Rickon yelled to get the redhead's attention. "You need manners!"

"I can learn, Big Woman! Will you teach me?"

"That's it. We're leaving, Pod." Brienne mumbled, already moving towards the Keep.

Rickon laughed as he saw Tormund's crestfallen expression.

"What, what did I say?"

"I don't think she liked to be called Big Woman, Gianstbane." Lyanna explained.

"Well, you like it when I call you Bear Cub, don't you?'

"I do not. I let you do it because it pleases you, which means more hours of training for me."

"And I thought women were hard to get North of the Wall…" Tormund sighed. "Anyway, you coming now?"

Rickon was about to answer when his sister's voice rang out from the balcony above. Defeated, he shook his head and walked to join her, only smiling when Ghost flanked him and licked his hand. Since Jon's departure, the bond between him and the Direwolf had only grown stronger. The hole in his heart left by Shaggydog would never disappear, but he felt that he could withstand his absence thanks to his Direwolf's brother.

"I thought we had an agreement, brother? You accepted Brienne and Podrick and you were to stay with them during the day, then I let you spend the night with the guards from the Free Folk." she chastised him.

"And I'm respecting our bargain, sister. It is not my fault she decided to leave early."

"Rickon Stark…"

"You look just like mother now, when I did something she didn't like. You're pinching your lips the same way," he smiled sadly and could see the pain in her eyes. "I would make more effort with your sworn guard."

"Your sworn guard, not mine." Sansa retorted but Rickon finished his words regardless.

"If you come and train with us. You also need to prepare. Every man, woman, and child should be able to protect themselves in the war to come."

He knew that she still didn't believe anything about the Army of the dead. He had tried to convince her by telling her the stories he'd heard. How Osha had lost her family and why she thought she had to come south of the Wall to get away from the things that came at night. How Tormund fought them more than once, the last time he did was when Jon had come to Hardhome to lead them south of the Wall and how their brother had slain a White Walker with Longclaw, which was when they learned that Valyrian steel was effective on the White Walkers themselves. How he had seen them, with their blue eyes, marching towards the Wall, hundreds and hundreds of dead men, women, and animals, before he had then breathed a true breath again.

"You worry too much and we still have time to see it come. There is still the Wall between them and us. For now, we need to gather more stocks for Winter. The Umbers and Karstarks agreed to bring their supplies for Winter along during the evacuation. Lord Manderly has agreed to send some of his boats to Essos, to gather some food." Sansa said changing the subject.

"It will be too long to travel there, Sansa. We should ask some of the Free Folk who stayed to help us catch some game."

"Lord Glover brought back what he and his men could find, and it was not much." Sansa said, shaking her head.

"He hasn't brought any rabbits."

"Rabbits?"

"There are a lot of rabbits when you know where to find them. Osha showed me when we were running from Winterfell."

"Oh, Rickon…" Sansa said sadly, her concerned expression one that he ignored for now.

"What I am trying to say is that most of the Free Folk are used to hunting small prey. rabbit skin would be useful to make clothes to withstand the cold, and they can also raise some so we get more. We have a lot of people to feed and I think it will help us. Truly."

"It makes sense…" she mused, surprising her brother. "If they can manage to catch them and make them reproduce, we could have a source of meat for some time."

"You will not argue with me?" Rickon gaped at her.

"I think it is a good idea." Sansa smiled softly and for once, Rickon felt really proud of himself.

"What is a good idea, my Lady?" Littlefinger's voice rang behind him, making him tense as a shiver ran through his spine while Ghost gave the man a warning snarl. How long had he been there? he wondered.

"A hunt, Lord Baelish. My brother suggested that the Free Folk could help fill our food stocks by going on a hunt. The pressure over our own stocks would then diminish somewhat at least."

"An excellent idea, indeed, Your Grace." Littlefinger said the smile as always not reaching his eyes as he looked at him far too closely for Rickon's liking.

"Then it's settled. Send for Tormund, we will ask him to choose some men and women, and to lead the hunt."

"No, Tormund stays. Nessa will go."

"Your Grace, if I may…" Sansa began only for Rickon not to allow her to finish.

"Tormund is needed here. He is training the young women and the children for the war to come." Rickon said emphatically.

Sansa rolled her eyes, as she did every time he or Jon spoke about it, and Rickon had to take a deep breath not to yell at her for her attitude.

"With a mission as important, you cannot delegate the lead to someone you do not trust." Littlefinger said. "I know you trust Tormund Gianstborne."

"It's Gianstbane."

"Forgive me, Your Grace. You trust him, right?"

"More than anything."

"Then what could possibly go wrong?" Littlefinger challenged.

Rickon didn't like the way they were insisting on separating him from Tormund. It reminded him of the way the Umbers tried to dismiss Osha out of nowhere one day. She had known something was off and so she came to take him away, and they almost made it to the Wall before they got captured. He lifted his hand and Ghost came instinctively to him, his fur against his hand having a soothing effect for now at least.

"Go ahead, ask him to leave my side and you will quickly find out that he will not," Rickon retorted, smirking when he saw the man react to his unveiled threat and Ghost's intense glare.

"Rickon! Lord Baelish is our ally, you cannot talk to him this way when he is just trying to help." Sansa said in exasperation.

"Well, as he is an ally and your most trusted man, why not send him along with the Free Folk?"

"I… I don't hunt, your Grace." Littlefinger stammered.

"Funny enough, it doesn't surprise me." Rickon sneered. "Listen, even if I asked Tormund to leave, which I do not want him to, he would not because he swore an oath to Jon not to leave my side until his return. So, if you really want him to go, then I will have to go with him."

"You are the King, Rickon. You set the rules, not Jon."

"You're right. I need Tormund to continue teaching how to fight to those willing to learn, so he stays. Nessa will lead the party and anyone wishing to join them is welcome to do so."

"As you command, Your Grace," Littlefinger said as he bowed his head and, with a quick look at Sansa, walked away from them.

"What was that?" Sansa finally asked through gritted teeth, bristling when he just shrugged. "Didn't I tell you to tread carefully with Littlefinger? That man can be dangerous."

"Yet you treat him as a welcome guest and lie to him when you tell me not to trust him. Why is he still here?"

"We need his men."

"You mean our cousin's men." he retorted.

"He is our cousin's regent. Those men answer to him."

"Those men don't even believe in the Great War. You do not either, so why are they still here?"

Sansa shook her head and pulled a piece of parchment from under her sleeve, making him frown when she handed it to him.

Cersei of House Lannister, first of her name, Queen of the Andals, and the First Men, Protector of the seven kingdoms, summons the rebel Rickon Stark to come to King's Landing, to bend the knee to his rightful Queen or suffer the fate of all traitors.

"When did you receive this?"

"Before Jon's departure."

"That was weeks ago! And you never told me!" he exclaimed.

"Because I didn't want you to worry! Look at how anguished you've been ever since Jon told you about the supposed battle against the Army of the Dead, Even when the Wall still stands as it always has for eight thousand years!"

"We knew Cersei was Queen, but why does she want me to bend the knee?"

"You cannot! The Lords of the North made you King in the North and you cannot bend the knee to her! Not after all she and her family did to ours!"

"So you lied to me so that I couldn't bend the knee?"

"I was protecting you!"

"By not telling me that I have someone who now wants me dead because I cannot bend the knee?"

"She will not get to you, I swear… That's why I asked Lord Baelish to stay. To protect us as he did during the Battle of the Bastards." Sansa said pleadingly as she looked at him.

"You mean to protect you from her! What did Littlefinger do for me during this battle? Where was he when Ramsay made me run to Jon? Where were you when I died?"

Sansa gasped and took a step back and Rickon almost regretted his words when he saw tears welling in her eyes. Until suddenly her whole demeanor changed.

"You wouldn't be there if it weren't for him," she said frostily.

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for Jon," he countered.

"And who saved Jon from his foolish plan? The Knights of the Vale did, and they did so because I asked Lord Baelish to come help us! You're too young to understand, too grateful towards Jon for bringing you back to realize that you stand here not because of him, not because of some Red Witch who didn't even fight, but because I was there."

"So you want me to thank you for me coming back from the dead? You feel you deserve it more so than, Jon, when you gave up on me even before the battle?" Rickon spat and she gasped once more. "When you already thought of me as dead because Ramsay would never have let me live? When you didn't even try to save me?"

"Who told you that? Is it Jon?"

"Who the fuck cares? You think you deserve my thanks for that, well thank you! You want me to be grateful for your protection, for not telling me I'm at risk of losing my head? Why, thank you, Sansa. I feel very safe with someone lying to me about everything that concerns me." Rickon's anger almost threatened to burst forth as he spoke the words that came straight from his heart.

"I… Rickon…" Sansa started, only to be stopped by a glare from him. "I'm sorry. I was trying to protect you…"

Rickon stepped away, too angry at his sister to accept her apology. He ignored her calls and started walking toward his rooms, where he planned to unleash his fury privately.

Sansa had a lot of nerve to stand there and claim she was protecting him, while she couldn't even protect their brother nor him during the battle. He wasn't the only one angry at her for her inaction and her lack of communication. Jon had told him to talk to the Lords, to listen to them and their men, and Lyanna Mormont and Larence Snow, the new heir of House Hornwood had a lot of things to say about their sister.

To say that Lyanna didn't like Sansa would not be telling the complete truth. She admired his sister's resilience and understood the hardships that she had endured, to an extent, as she found her too Southern for her taste. Yet she also held her responsible for the death of some of her men during the infamous Battle of the Bastards.

"Until the last moment, your brother tried to find ways to reduce the casualties. We thought we were outnumbered and he devised his plans according to our numbers, our strengths, and our weaknesses. While the plan went to hell when he saw you and I understand why… Had we known about the Knights of the Vale, our whole strategy would have been different. Your fool of a brother would still have rushed to save you, but at least we would have had a better plan."

"You didn't know about the Knights of the Vale?"

"Your brother didn't tell you?" he shook his head and she chuckled bitterly. "The fool. She knew things we didn't and she didn't bother informing him. It could have saved a lot of Northern lives, but she didn't care. "

"What I don't understand is why you don't blame me or even Jon, but you blame Sansa for the loss of your men's lives. You've been fighting for the Starks, all of us." Rickon asked curiously, yet not sure if he wished the answer for true.

"Not only did your sister wait for the last moment to send the reinforcements, but my men were surrounded and some of them got trampled on. They lost their lives so that your sister could get her keep back. Even through his grief, your brother thanked us and told us everything would be done to honor the memory of those who fell for House Stark. When you came back from the dead, you also thanked us for trying to save you. Your sister did none of that. We knew what we were getting into by fighting by your side. We were loyal and even though we did what we did out of duty, we expected some respect back. Not rewards as she tried to give us when we named you King."

"She was really certain you would want more reward for your actions, though."

"I appreciate the reduction of taxes, but what the hell would my men's families or I do with some lands at Karhold? They are from Bear Island, always have been, and always will be. The recognition they deserve is, to be honored and to be remembered, that is what we want. I have lost my mother, my sisters, and my only family to House Stark. I don't care about lands, I care about honoring those who fell." Lyanna said determinedly.

"She is grateful. She just has a hard time showing it."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself? Because that ship has long sailed for me, Your Grace."

He had asked for a monument to be commissioned once winter was over and they would have the coin to spare, to remember the lives lost during the Red Wedding and the Retaking of Winterfell. His announcement the next day of his conversation with Lyanna was met with a rebuttal from Sansa and approval from the Lords of the North and even the Vale. It had been his first decision as a King that he had been truly proud of. Like Jon suggested, he had listened and he could see the effect of his decisions on his subjects. They came to him more, Lyanna, Larence, Lord Manderly, and the Lords of the Mountain Clans. They began to tolerate, if not accept the presence of the Free folk who had bled for the Starks and would do so again for the North. In time, Rickon thought he had moved on from the wounds of the past battle, only for them to reopen at the first dispute with his sister.

It was not a simple dispute, though. He felt betrayed by her action, as he first did when he heard that he was already dead to her.

When he was alone with Ghost in his room, he stared at the crumpled parchment in his hand and felt his anger grow. His life was in danger and she didn't even think he deserved to know. Cersei Lannister could send an assassin, or some Lord from the South could decide to bring back his head as a symbol of loyalty. Littlefinger's face came immediately into his mind and he exploded.

His yells, sobs, and expletives must have alerted his guards, for he heard Ser Davos furiously bang on his door.

"Your Grace? Rickon! What happened? Is it Jon?" the Onion knight asked frantically after entering the room and seeing his state of affliction.

Rickon couldn't talk. He was overwhelmed by his emotions and he struggled to calm down. Ghost, always the good companion, grabbed the parchment carefully from his hand and brought it to Davos before coming back and letting Rickon ease his head into his fur. He felt Davos kneel beside him and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Being a King is a hard thing, lad. It's an unrewarding task and it will bring you more enemies than friends. But you are not alone in this. From the Wall to the Neck, you rule this land and she will have to go through your people to get to you."

"That is not… I do not want anyone to die for me. We already have a war to focus on and she is threatening another one. But it's not what worries me the most."

"What is it, then?"

"Sansa." he said, feeling his throat tighten. "She hid this from me."

"What?"

He explained everything that happened, from the suggestion he made, which earned him a proud smile from Davos, to what his sister said after he learned of the message. The knight frowned and said nothing for a while, enough time for Rickon to feel a weight being lifted from his chest. He had been wary of Davos at first but had warmed up to him soon after Jon left. He knew that his brother wouldn't leave someone he didn't trust close to him and Davos proved that he had a good heart. He treated him just like Jon did, like a King in front of everyone and a child behind closed doors which Rickon appreciated greatly. He wanted, no, needed true people who did not change discourse according to the person they were facing, and Davos, Tormund, and even Brienne were honest to a fault.

He wished he could say the same about Sansa.

"First, you need to do something about the ravens. You are the King, you should be the first to read them." Davos said and Rickon nodded. "You also need to talk to your sister when you feel you can hold your emotions in check."

"I don't think I can do that now."

"All the better. I do not know what she is playing at but this needs to stop. What she did was wrong on so many levels. She might feel that you are too young to bear the Crown by yourself, but this is exactly why you have a Council in place. I bet neither Lady Mormont nor Lord Manderly had been made aware of this. I sure as hell wasn't, I swear to you."

"I know, Ser Davos. You would have told me and so would the others." Rickon said hoping that Davos took his words as a sign he trusted him.

"This cannot happen. She cannot blindside you nor the council. What if something had happened to you? I know for a fact that your brother wouldn't care for our excuses."

"Jon!" Rickon suddenly exclaimed as panic threatened to take hold of him. "We have no news of Jon! What if they've captured him?"

"Do not worry about Jon, lad. It takes time to travel to Dragonstone. I am sure he is well. Ghost would have felt if something went wrong." Davos said as Rickon looked at the white wolf.

As if to confirm Davos' words, Ghost licked his head and gave him a wolfish smile, warming up his heart in the process. Now that the possibility of Jon being hurt was out of the way, Rickon focused on his tasks.

"Can you summon the Maester for me? We also need to call for a council. Without Sansa."

"It will be done, your grace. I'll get to the Maester right away" Davos nodded before smiling. "I prefer seeing you like this, lad. Resolute as your brother."

"I miss him." Rickon sighed sadly.

"Aye, I do too sometimes, when he isn't as stubborn as an auroch or brooding like… Like…"

"An auroch?" he tried, smiling sheepishly at Davos' face.

The knight excused himself to bring the Maester back and Rickon was left alone with Ghost. He could see the worried looks of Lady Brienne and Podrick when the door opened and her hesitation to talk to him. Did they know about what Sansa hid from him? Could he really trust them to be loyal to him and not to her?

Ghost took his focus back by licking his face.

"Oh, you were worried too, right?" he asked and got another lick on the face in response "I'm sorry, Ghost. I just… I feel better now, I swear. Thank you for being with me and for protecting me."

With another lick to his face, the white wolf helped him up, or rather he dragged him from the ground, as he was taller than him, just in time for Rickon to gain his composure back when Ser Davos arrived with Maester Wolkan. The man's inability to make eye contact betrayed his nervousness.

"Your Grace sent for me?"

"I did. There have been messages sent to me, messages that I have no knowledge of until now. Why is that?"

"Your Grace, I… I was told by your sister not to bother you, as you were still recovering from your… ordeal, Your Grace." the Maester stammered.

"Do I look like I am suffering, Maester?"

"I… No Your Grace. But I haven't been able to confirm it, as your brother didn't trust me to check on your wounds since… Since…" Wolkan paled at that mention.

"Since I've been brought back, you mean?"

"Yes, Your Grace. A… Strange feat, to say the least."

"Aye, you have the right of it. But not the matter at hand here, Wolkan." Davos intervened.

"From now on, I want any messages arriving by raven to be bought directly to me. Not my sister, not a council member. Me. They have no business knowing things before me. If I am busy, wait for me. If I'm on the privy, knock and wait. If it is important and cannot wait, Give it to Ghost."

"To the Direwolf, Your Grace?" Wolkan gulped as Ghost walked menacingly towards him.

"If you do what I say, then you risk nothing with him. Betray me or my orders and it will be another story."

"I… It will be done, your Grace."

"I thank you."

"Now that I'm here… May I… May I ask how your wounds are healing?"

Rickon shared a look at Davos who nodded and the King's whole demeanor changed.

"Sure! Have a look if it pleases you, but Ghost stays near me." He quickly shed his shirt and walked to the scared Maester while wearing a wolfish grin.

It turned out that he didn't need to wait long to see if the Maester would stick to his word, as the next day Ghost trotted towards him with an indignant look on his face.

"That's a nice necklace you're bringing here, boy!" Tormund laughed while the wolf glared at him and Rickon took it from his mouth.

Dangling on the necklace was a scroll and Rickon's heart skipped a beat when he opened it.

"Call Davos and the others, Tormund. There is news from my brother."

"Your sister also?"

"No. Let her steam in her juices still. She'll know about it when I feel like telling her."

Dragonstone 302 AC.

Dany.

The island and keep had been all she'd imagined it to be and more. Everywhere she looked the majesty of dragons was on show. From the ornamental statues that were built into the keep to the handles of the doors and to the throne itself. She had ripped down the banners of the Stag and would see them replaced with the Three-Headed Dragon as soon as was possible. Dany wishing to show this place off for what it was and not for what the Baratheon's had tried to turn it into.

When she had first seen the Chamber of the Painted Table and the table itself it had brought a smile to her face. As did seeing that it was open to the elements and though covered from the wind and rain that she knew she'd face on this island, it would still allow her children to be heard and seen as well. Listening to the sounds that came up from the bay below her and feeling the wind on her face had been refreshing. For despite having spent a life in the sun, it was here that she felt more at home than anywhere else. Other than a small house in Braavos that she still missed so very much.

She had turned to look at the table that Aegon had commissioned all those years ago, and had looked to those there with her. Grey Worm, Missandei, Qhono, Tyrion, Yara and Theon Greyjoy, Ellaria Sand, and her three oldest girls, Olenna Tyrell and Varys. Some of them she knew she could trust implicitly while others would need to earn her trust which would not be an easy thing to do. Dany had trusted far too easily in her life and the closer she got to her throne, the more she had to lose.

"Shall we begin." she said firmly.

Waking up with a start, she at first expected to be in her bed in Meereen and she automatically reached over to where Daario would be laying. Only for the absence of her former lover to bring a frown to her face and the memory of the day before to become clearer in her head. Dragonstone, she was on Dragonstone, she had come home. It brought a smile to her face as the thoughts of all she'd seen when she arrived began to fade back into the memories that they now were and not the dream she'd once had of them. Rising to her feet she felt the cold air on her naked body and moved to grab something to warm her up, the sheet sufficing for now.

She heard them flying in the early morning sky, her children were singing to her as they flew close to the keep and their joy fuelled her own. It was much needed as other memories of the day and night before came to mind. Dany feeling her tears threaten to flow once more, as thoughts of the room that she was born in and her mother had lost her life soon came to mind. It had stopped her plans, ended the meetings that she had hoped to have, and deferred them all to today instead of yesterday. Not just that either but it had robbed her of her appetite and good cheer and she'd been naught but a mummer at the first dinner that she'd held in Dragonstone. Simply going through the motions before finally being able to call it a night and take to her bed, where her tears had truly fallen.

"My queen." Missandei's voice called out when she saw her and Dany was glad she'd not given into those tears once more 'If I look back, I'm lost' she heard her own voice ring out in her head.

"I must make ready for the day." she said determinedly and Missandei moved quickly.

They spoke as she was dressed and as her closest friend brushed her hair, Dany enjoying feeling the brush and the calm it brought her. By the time her braids were put in she was more back to herself, the laughs she'd shared with Missandei were more true ones and she felt more ready for the day. With a nod to Missandei, Dany rose to her feet, and together they made their way to the room they'd break their fast in. While they were the first to arrive they weren't left alone in the room for long as Ellaria and her girls, Yara without Theon, and then finally Lady Olenna joined them.

It was in the middle of light conversation, something she was enjoying greatly as Ellaria's girls spoke of Dorne and Olenna of Highgarden when the ship was sighted. Dany quickly making her way to the Chamber of the Painted Table and was joined by Tyrion and Varys before she even reached it. Standing at the open window with the Myrish Eye in her hands she looked out into the bay to see the ship for herself. It was not as large or as well made as some of her own and the Merman on the green field that it bore on it's sails meant little to her. The grey wolf however did and she grimaced as she handed Tyrion the Myrish Eye.

"House Stark has no ships, though it bears the Manderly banner too." Tyrion said, sounding surprised to see the ship in the bay and at this time especially no doubt.

"Why would a ship from the North arrive here now?" she asked, holding back her anger at the thoughts of one of the usurper's dogs daring to come to her island.

"I do not know your grace, but this could be fortuitous." Tyrion said and she glared at him before realizing that she had other company.

"The Starks are no more, your grace. A shadow of what they once were." Yara Greyjoy said and Dany was about to turn to Varys and Tyrion for more answers only for Lady Olenna's biting remark to almost start a fight.

"Something your brother is no doubt proud about." Olenna said cuttingly.

"My brother…"

"Enough." she said before it truly began "All of you leave us. Lord Varys you stay, you too Tyrion." she said and she watched as Yara glared at Lady Olenna who just nodded to her politely before moving from the room, her cane hitting the floor as she did so.

She waited until they were gone and she was left with only those she trusted along with Lord Varys.

"What news do we have of the North?" she asked.

"That the Boltons controlled it, my queen. The Starks were presumed all dead other than a bastard brother who served at the Wall. The two youngest boys met their end at Lord Greyjoy's hands and as for the girls, Lady Sansa disappeared as did her younger sister and no one has heard of either for many a year." Varys said, almost sounding annoyed with himself.

"That's all you know?" Tyrion asked and Varys nodded.

"Find out more, Lord Varys, about the North and the rest of the realm, we needs must know more." she said and Varys bowed his head and was gone a moment later.

She moved back to the window and looked out once more, feeling her children fly out towards the ship and it brought a smile to her face. Whoever the North had sent would soon see the truth of who reigned here now.

"Who is on this ship, Tyrion?" she asked and her Hand shook his head "Find out for me and have them brought to me once you do." she said and just like Varys he too was gone in the blink of an eye as Dany picked up the Myrish Eye and found herself drawn to the ship once more.

After speaking to Lady Olenna and then to the Greyjoys to find out more about the North and the Starks who once ruled it, she felt both happiness at what had befallen their house and a little sad that the children had suffered so. Their father deserved losing his head and the eldest son would perhaps have been someone she'd have needed to face across the battlefield, but the two young boys were far too young to suffer so and girls suffered far too much in this world as it was.

It took more than two hours for Tyrion to return and were it not for the Dothrak that he'd sent running on ahead to her she'd not have known what to expect. The Stark's bastard son and a Red Priestess were not who she'd have wagered were on the ship and Lord Varys looked a bit sheepishly at her as she took her seat on the throne. He'd hurried back to say that Stannis Baratheon had moved his army, or what remained of it, to the North. So it was likely that the Northern ship was related to him. His little birds as he called them had been lost to him for some time and his information was not as current as it could be. Was it not for the allies he'd brought her and Tyrion's own words regarding him, then she'd perhaps have sent him from her service by now, instead she'd left him with a warning.

Lady Olenna, Ellaria and the Sand Snakes, Yara, and Theon Greyjoy all stood close to the throne as they waited to greet their guest. Dany found herself eager to see what a bastard wolf looked like and to find out why one had come to her door. When she saw Missandei enter the room and move to her side she smiled at her closest friend. Tyrion However she frowned a little as he said no words to her when he did the same. When she saw the man in black and the glimpse of red enter the room, she nodded to Grey Worm who with his men moved a little away from the Throne, just in case.

"You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. Rightful Heir to the Iron Throne, Rightful Queen of the Andals, Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm. The Mother of Dragons, The Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, The Unburnt, The Breaker of Chains." Missandei said firmly as Dany looked to the man she had spoken the words to.

He was comely, dark of hair and eye, and though not a large man he had a presence about him. Dany knew warriors and this man was surely that, yet there seemed something else about him that she couldn't quite figure out. The woman beside him was beautiful, her long red hair looked like the very flames themselves and matched her red dress perfectly. She reminded her of Kinvara and bore the same expression on her face as the Flame of Truth had when last she'd seen her. Neither of them spoke for a few moments and she saw how the man's grey eyes seemed to stare deeply at her almost dragging her into them and it was only when he turned his head to the woman beside him that she felt able to look away.

"This is Jon Snow. Regent to His grace King Rickon Stark. The White Wolf, King Crow, Friend to the Free Folk, Former Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. The Sword and Shield of the North, The Undying, the Resurrected. The Prince that was Promised." Melisandre said and it was the last one that for now her mind focussed on, Kinvara had named her the Princess that was Promised, who was she promised to? Who was he?

"You've traveled far from home, Lord Snow, I hope the seas were not too rough." she said and caught the glimpse of a smile, one that she wished to see fully for some reason that she knew not.

"A regent stands as a king in all but name, your grace, and should be named as such." Melisandre said, sounding annoyed to her ears and she saw Jon Snow shake his head slightly at the woman.

"Forgive me, lady?"

"Melisandre, your grace." the woman replied.

"Forgive me but the Last King in the North was Torrhen Stark who bent the knee to my ancestor Aegon Targaryen. In exchange for his life and the lives of the Northmen who followed him, Torrhen Stark swore his fealty to House Targaryen in perpetuity did he not? Or do I have my facts wrong?" she asked and she was surprised when Jon Snow looked at her.

"You do, your grace." he said simply and directly and she felt her eyes narrow "My brother Rickon Stark now wears the Crown of Winter, your grace, and he has not knelt nor sworn any oath to House Targaryen." he added and she felt her anger rise.

"You've come to break faith?" she asked angrily.

"I believe your father's actions did so long before I set foot in this place, your grace. The day he burned my grandfather and killed my uncle all the oaths between our houses ended" Jon Snow said and she felt the faces in the room turn to him and despite her anger, she felt a little shamed by what she knew of her father.

"My father was an evil man." she said and saw the surprised look that Jon Snow gave her "On behalf of House Targaryen I ask your forgiveness for the crimes he committed against your family and I ask you not to judge a daughter by the sins of her father." she looked at him and saw the small swallow he made, her eyes drawn to his throat as he did so and as she looked to his face she caught him looking at her.

"I do not, nor have I ever judged someone for the acts of their parents, your grace. On behalf of House Stark, I accept your apology and thank you for it." he said, surprising her.

"Our two houses, Jon Snow. Our two houses were allies for centuries and those were the best centuries the Seven Kingdoms have ever known. Centuries of peace and prosperity, with a Targaryen sitting on the Iron Throne and a Stark serving as Warden of the North. I am the last Targaryen, Jon Snow, honor the pledge that your ancestor made to mine, bend the knee and I will name you Warden of the North. Together we will save this country from those who would destroy it." she said and the angered look he got on his face took her aback.

"You ask me to usurp my king, my brother?" he said, his voice rising and she realized her mistake, though he didn't stop speaking to allow her to explain it "My house has sworn to good kings, bad ones, and terrible ones and we have suffered because of it. I know you not, your grace. Your great uncle spoke highly of you, though he knew you not either." he said and she felt her heart begin to race, family, she had more family "You are not responsible for your father's actions, I accept that. The North may even accept it, though we're a stubborn lot. But I knelt to the only king or queen I intend to kneel to. I came here for aid, your grace, aid in the only fight that matters. Not one for thrones or to decide who rules over who, for the North has already decided on such."

"So you won't bend the knee?" she before rising to her feet.

"I've spent too much time North of the Wall, your grace, getting my knee to bend once was hard enough." Jon Snow said and she swore that he was japing with her.

Where the tirade came from she knew not, the things she said were things she felt and yet had not spoken of in such a way before. Halfway through telling him that she had been sold, raped, and used as a broodmare she was shocked to see the pained look on his face. A look of sympathy that almost had her stopping her speech though it did not, instead she continued and at the end of it, she was breathing heavily.

"I wish you good fortune in the wars to come, your grace. I hope we don't find ourselves on opposing sides, but you've made your feelings clear and I'll waste no more of your time." Jon Snow said and moved to walk away.

"I did not give you leave to walk away, Jon Snow." she said and the way he turned and looked at her sent a shiver down her spine, both in a good and bad way.

"I'm your prisoner?" he asked indignantly "You would break guest right?" he added and she felt his grey eyes burn into her own violet ones, the two of them locked in a staring contest and when she heard the dragons roar she thought she'd won, only for him not to blink or turn away.

"Perhaps a respite would do us all good. We can continue our discussions later, your grace." Tyrion said and his hand on her elbow forced her to turn away from Jon Snow, a loss for now that she liked not.

"Indeed. You are not a prisoner, Jon Snow, but my Lord Hand is right, perhaps after a short respite we can speak again, less emotionally." she said softly and watched as he seemed to breathe deeply before answering.

"Of course, your grace."

Winterfell 302 AC.

Sansa Stark.

She had been so wrong.

She had thought he would understand that she was just trying to protect him. To ease his burden and to prevent him from doing something stupid, as in bending the knee to stop the upcoming war with the South. Rickon's heart was as soft as Jon's and both of them were letting their emotions rule their decisions. No doubt that Jon would have told him that they had suffered enough and they would need to make peace with Cersei so that the North could focus on their stupid war against the Dead.

She would rather kill herself than make peace with Cersei Lannister. Baelish had been more than clear that the moment after they had bent the knee to her, the Lion bitch would then ask for her head for her supposed part in killing Joffrey. Sansa had no intention of giving her satisfaction.

She had tried to get ready before informing Rickon. To have a solid plan to protect their family from the upcoming political nightmare that they would have to deal with.

News from Riverrun had left her no hope that the Tullys could help. Her Uncle Edmure had betrayed them and sided with the Lannisters. Highgarden was silent, Olenna probably mourning the loss of her grandchildren, even if Sansa still hoped that their mutual hatred for Cersei would allow them to trade and work together. She had thought about sending Theon a raven to call for his help too. Surely he'd arrived to be with his sister, and he still owed her family a favor for all that he had done to them. Littlefinger though had been quick to shut down that option.

"Calling the Ironborn for reinforcements would not sit well with the Lords of the North, Sansa. They're already reluctant to trust the Vale and they remember what happened the last time a Stark put their trust in a Greyjoy. Far too many of them lost families during the Ironborn invasion for them to look at this as calmly as you."

"But Theon had suffered a lot, too…"

"They'll see it as a just punishment for his crimes. He reaped what he'd sowed, nothing less."

"They would spit on Theon's help yet they welcome the wildlings -" she said indignantly.

"Not all of them do, Sansa. The Mormont girl and the Mountain Clans are almost wildlings themselves, but the others… Ask Lord Glover how he feels about them, and I guarantee you that you'll hear him say that he holds no love for them."

"Then why…"

"Because their King wills it. They may not like it but they obey and they watch. They're waiting for him to make a mistake."

"Then what? Do they plan to hurt my brother?" she asked worriedly.

"They will not hurt him, my Lady. He is the King in the North, but he is still young. They will blame his inexperience or even the people who influenced him…"

"You're talking about Jon. You think they'll want him to be replaced as regent?"

"With someone who shows a more competent side… Someone who could lead them as they deserve to be led."

The implication was not subtle. He was clearly thinking about her and part of her, the part who wanted to be in control of her life and able to protect her family almost willed it to happen.

"What do we do about Cersei?"

"The Knights of the Vale are still in your service, Sansa. We can use them to protect you and your brother and should Cersei declare war… They will be by your side, for a price, naturally."

"And what would your price be, Lord Baelish?"

"I've already told you, my love."

Her stomach churned as she heard the words of endearment leave his mouth. Since his confession in the Godswood before they had named Rickon King in the North, Littlefinger had been more and more vocal about his desire to be with her. She loathed the idea but needed the man, as he controlled the Vale through her cousin, thus it had led to her leading him on. Sansa hoped beyond hope that she could manage to play her mummery for as long as she had to or at least until she needed him no more.

"And I told you that my place is with my family."

"Your family doesn't care about you or your feelings, Sansa. They keep pushing you away. You need to think about yourself, and only yourself. Leave the North to their dealings and come back to the Vale with me." he said moving closer to her.

"I am Sansa Stark of Winterfell. I have worked too hard to see the Starks back to where we belong. I will not leave my family behind, not when they need me so."

"I hope you will not have to regret it. I will be there for you in any case."

She didn't want to believe Littlefinger but later as she sat next to her brother who refused to even look at her, doubt began to bloom in her mind. She had let him be for three days after their arguments and not once had he cared to ask for her. Couldn't he see that she was also affected? How sorry she was for having hurt his feelings? She knew Brienne had tried to convey her affliction to Rickon and how bad it went for her sworn shield who was now back at her service until he felt he could really trust her. The fact that she knew from Brienne that they'd received news from Jon that morning and that Rickon didn't see fit to warn her, had hurt her too.

She understood it was done to get back at her for what she did, but she was as worried about their half-brother's well-being as Rickon was. Jon was much too close to Cersei's location and if captured he could then be used as a hostage to make Rickon bend the knee. Why did the fool decide to travel to Dragonstone at that exact moment?

He wouldn't have left if you had shown him Cersei's message. If you had trusted him with more crucial information… a little voice close rang out in her head, trying to silence her resentment.

"My Lords, my Ladies, Sers, men and women of the Free Folk, and Tormund," Rickon started, making the crowd laugh and breaking her from her thoughts. "Today we received words from my brother. He has arrived at Dragonstone and was surprised to see that others were there before him. Daenerys Targaryen is back from her exile in Essos and plans to claim the Iron Throne from Cersei Lannister."

The room exploded in expletives and loud shouts and Sansa stared at Rickon in disbelief. Daenerys Targaryen? The daughter of the Mad King? She was here and was now coming for the Iron throne? Was that the only throne she sought? Would it be enough or would she look to the North too?

"Jon tells in his message that Daenerys came to Westeros with a horde of Dothraki, an army of Unsullied, and that she has the support of Dorne, the Reach, and the Greyjoys." Rickon said loudly, his voice taking on a tone that she didn't know he could or did possess.

"Fucking Ironborn!"

"She came to invade us with savages!"

"We will not bow to the fucking Dragons!"

Sansa rejoiced inwardly. That turn of events could definitely help them for a time, as Cersei would be too focused on the pretender to her own throne to care about the North.

"She also, according to Jon, has dragons."

A chill went down her spine as she realized the implications of what Rickon was saying. She saw Littlefinger tense in his corner of the Great Hall. This was not good news for the North, as surely Daenerys with dragons to call upon would challenge a sovereign North. With dragons, there would be little they could do against her.

"Dragons? That's impossible! Your brother is lying!" Lord Glover yelled.

"Why would Jon Snow lie about that? He has no interest in lying to us about what he saw once he arrived there." Lyanna Mormont butted in.

"He wants us to ally with the dragon whore against the Lannister bitch." Lord Glover retorted.

"That is not what he said in his message, my Lord." Rickon replied frostily.

"If she really has dragons, I say let her burn the Lannisters and get her Iron throne. The North cares not about the troubles of the South." Larence Snow said cockily.

"And what will you do when she gets it and then sets her sights on the North, Lord Snow?" she finally intervened, noticing her brother's flinch which made her heart break some more. "What will you do when she decides that she doesn't want six kingdoms, and when she comes for my brother that you've decided to name King? We have fought long and hard to bring independence to the North. To rid ourselves from the madness of the South."

"Did we, really?" the Mormont brat sneered. "I thought we fought to save your brother and get rid of the Boltons. Or am I mistaken?"

"Enough, Lady Mormont. My sister is right, though." None was more surprised to hear Rickon's admission than Sansa herself. "Jon says that Daenerys Targaryen wants to treat with us. She wants our help in bringing Cersei down and she wants the North back into the Seven Kingdoms."

"I knew it!" a voice called out though she had not heard who it was who'd done so.

"However, as Jon has already said to her, it is not his place to decide such things, as he is not King in the North. The decision belongs to me and that is why I'm telling you -"

"I will not kneel to a dragon. Never!" Lord Glover bellowed. "I knew it was a bad idea to name a child as King in the North!"

"Yet you swore you would stand behind me, or are your words as hollow as your bravery, Lord Glover?"

"If you kneel, boy, I will not -"

"I never said I will kneel, Lord Glover, but I thank you for showing me your true character. I've been watching you for a long time, moaning about the fact that I ordered your granddaughters to learn how to wield a blade for a war that you don't believe in. Look me in the eye and tell me I'm lying." Rickon Snarled.

"You are not. I do not believe in this so-called army of the dead that your brother talks about and I'm not the only one."

"Who else in there thinks like Lord Glover? That the army of the Dead is just a tale?"

Lord Royce stood up, as well as some knights of the Vale and some of Glover's men, making the room go silent.

"So you think Jon is lying?" Rickon asked angrily.

"I know your brother was a wildling lover and that he needed a reason to bring them south of the wall." Glover spat.

"How about the witnesses? Those who've seen them?"

"With all due respect, Your Grace, words of wildlings cannot be trusted." Lord Royce said condescendingly.

"And the men of the Night's Watch?" Rickon asked.

"A bunch of criminals. I will only believe it if I see with my own eyes." Glover said haughtily.

"Good." Rickon's smirk sent another shiver through her spine. "You're making my life so much easier, my Lord."

"Your Grace?" Glover's confusion was clear for all to see and she swore she saw Tormund and Lyanna Mormont chuckle.

"I was looking for a way to collect proof since I've seen that not everyone was getting ready for the war my brother has warned us about. I am so very glad to see you volunteer to go Beyond the Wall to gather said proof."

"I never"

"I cannot order the men of the Vale, since they are not of the North, but I believe you and your men will suffice for the task."

"I -"

"Then it's settled. You will leave tomorrow for the Wall, where you will find passage to travel beyond it and bring us a wight. Or two. Whatever number you think appropriate. Be wary, though, because I don't have any spare Valyrian Steel to give you for protection."

"But I,"

"Do not come back until you've found one, my Lord, or I will have your head. Do not test my patience either. If I hear that you never made it to the Wall, I will track you down and I will have your head. Do I make myself clear?" the authority Rickon projected then, impressed her greatly, though looking to Littlefigner she could see that he did not feel the same.

Glover nodded fearfully as Ghost gave him a warning snarl and Sansa saw it then, the potential hidden behind the youth of Rickon. His ruthlessness when he was fighting for those he loved and for a moment, she hoped he would stand up the same way for her as he did with Jon. She needed him to forgive her, and quickly.

"As for my decision regarding Daenerys Targaryen, I am going to make it later."

"Later?" Larence Snow said, frowning.

"My brother has promised to send us more information about her, her goals, her army, and her dragons. Until I learn more, I will not decide anything. Do not worry about me doing anything rash, as I will listen to each of your concerns and to my council's advice. Until then, I bid you a good night and, to Lord Glover and his men, safe travel tomorrow." Rickon declared to laughs from all but the mentioned men.

She watched as her brother left with his four-legged companion and he did so without so much as a glance towards her. She reigned in her desire to run after him, not wanting to show how desperate she was. She would not give Littlefinger that satisfaction.

She waited and waited until she could no more and walked towards the Lord's Chambers, frowning when she saw the two guards who made no move to announce her.

"I have to talk to my brother."

"Your brother has asked not to be disturbed, my Lady."

"I will talk to him. now."

"Let her in!" Rickon's voice rang out from inside the room.

She walked into the room, not without sending a glare at the guards, and frowned as she saw her brother. He was on the ground, burying his face into Ghost furs while the Direwolf sat around him protectively, his red eyes boring into her blue ones and making her look away.

"I was wondering when you would come to talk."

"Why haven't you told me about Jon's message?"

"You know why."

"I had a right to know! He is my half-brother too! He is surrounded by enemies!"

"Indeed, you had a right to know. Now you know how I felt when my own family hid important things from me."

"I admit that I was in the wrong, but what you did there was totally different!"

"Was it? As I see it, the message is the same. I have been summoned by another woman who claims that she's the queen of the seven kingdoms."

"I hid it to protect you, you hid it to hurt me."

"You hid it because you didn't trust me not to bend the knee. You didn't even trust the rest of the council with the information."

"Because they would have run to you and made you panic!"

"Good thing they are more loyal to me than you are, then."

Rickon's words made Sansa recoil in pain. It hurt her to know that her actions had caused him to doubt her loyalty to him and it looked like they would never come back from that. She walked towards him, stopping when Ghost gave her a warning and silent growl, and then she knelt so that she could be at Rickon's level.

"I'm sorry, brother. I'm really sorry for hurting your feelings, but I swear that I was only trying to protect you… You and Jon are all I have, and I can't stand the possibility of you hating me for that." she hoped her words sounded as true as she meant them.

"I don't hate you, Sansa." Rickon sighed, the words being a balm to her heart. "I just don't trust you right now."

"Do you think you will forgive me?"

"One day, maybe. but not now."

"Will you at least tell me about Jon's message?" she tried, and the appeased demeanor of her brother changed instantly.

"You already know its contents. I've said it all tonight."

"But… Don't you think it could have been written under duress?"

"What do you mean?"

"Jon could very well be a prisoner of the Targaryen girl. He could be forced to say things and used against us to make you bend the knee…"

"Again with this?" Rickon yelled. "If you're worried about me bending the knee, it will not happen."

"I'm worried about Jon and how they can use him against us."

"Like you've been worried about how Ramsay could use me?"

"Rickon, no, that's not…"

"Tell you what, Sansa. I was already dead to you, wasn't I? Well, you can worry about him as you did about me when I was a prisoner and leave me the hell alone!"

"Rickon…"

"JUST FUCKING LEAVE!"

She was startled and so she stumbled to get to her feet. There was so much rage, so much anger in her brother's eyes and his words that she knew it would do her no good to insist that he listen to her. Something was broken between them and she cursed Jon for telling Rickon what she had said. She needed to do something about it, to repair the bond before it was too late and she lost her brother and the North forever.

She froze as she was starting to walk to her rooms, her gaze locking onto the intense one of Littlefinger's. She looked away, wishing that he hadn't heard too much about her argument with Rickon. The last thing she wanted was to admit that he had been right all along.

Dragonstone 302 AC.

Olenna

Vengeance was an all-consuming thing, stronger than the desire for food, sleep, or even gain which had been something she'd sought all her life, it was all she could think of. Every moment of the day, every breath she took, every move she made, vengeance was what drove her forward. Was it not for the desire to see Cersei Lannister pay for what she had done, then Olenna may very well have sought a release from the agony that she felt. Each moment she let her guard down was one that brought a tear to her eye and a pain to her heart.

She mourned her grandson and son, a mother's and grandmother's love for both of them making it impossible for her not to. Margaery however, what she felt for her granddaughter's loss was far more visceral. Mace was her son, her own flesh and blood and the fruits of her womb, yet Margaery transcended even that. All that she was had been poured into her granddaughter, all her hopes and dreams and wishes for the future. Not a day had gone by when she'd not felt proud of her or loved her with all she had and that woman, that thing that sat the Iron Throne and dared to name herself a queen had stolen her from her.

Tales had been written of the lengths a mother would go to for her children, before Olenna breathed her last the realm would know what a grandmother would do for a granddaughter. She would see Cersei Lannister on her knees and watch as she breathed her last, she swore it on the Father, the Mother, and the Crone, on the Smith, Warrior, and Maiden and she swore that the Stranger would dine on a lioness's corpse before he ever got to dine on her own.

Once she'd done so she was finally ready for the day ahead she walked from the room and nodded to Left and Right who took up their positions behind her. She would break her fast and then it was to the War Council she was headed, Olenna keen to get to the work she'd allied herself with the Dragon Queen for. As she walked she wondered if Daenerys Targaryen had taken into account her words of the day before, or was Jon Snow to remain ostracised from their meeting. For some reason, she hoped he would not be and she knew not why that was.

Yesterday.

"A moment, your grace." she said after she and the others had been told to leave.

"Of course, Lady Olenna." Daenerys said looking to Tyrion who seemed reluctant to do so.

Olenna sipped her wine as she waited for the dwarf to leave and only readied to speak once he did so. Jon Snow had caused quite a stir with his arrival and words and it changed things considerably. Yara Greyjoy blamed the wolves for what happened to her idiot of a brother and Ellaria Sand and the Sand Snakes blamed him for the actions of his father many years earlier, actions that they didn't understand if they blamed Ned Stark. Olenna had no feelings regarding the Starks, Ned was a fool, Catelyn a trout, and she felt sad for Sansa Stark who could have been her good granddaughter in another life, but that was it. For her, it was more what this could mean and whether or not it could get her closer to seeing Cersei Lannister pay, she felt it could.

"My lady?" Daenerys said when Olenna had not spoken in some time.

"Forgive me, your grace, the mind wanders at my age." she said to a warm smile from the young queen "I wish to speak to you more on Jon Snow, your grace."

"What of him?" Daenerys asked irritably.

"An interesting man and the North is, while a dull and cold place, an interesting one nonetheless. Lady Greyjoy blames him for what happened to her brother, simply because of who he is and even though her brother deserved all that he got and more. As for Lady Ellaria and her girls, it was not Ned Stark who played a part in their princesses' deaths, nor in the deaths of her children. Nor was it the Starks who decided their fates." Olenna said looking at Daenerys and hoping she took her meaning.

"They rose against my house." Daenerys retorted.

"For valid reasons, your grace. Mine own rose against theirs, and yet I never blamed Ned Stark for being on the opposite side nor for bringing my son to his knees."

"Your point, my lady." Daenerys asked, annoyed.

"You must think more clearly than they do, your grace." she said softly.

"You think I'm not?" Daenerys asked with a glare on her face.

"I think that Jon Snow's refusal to kneel has annoyed you greatly, as well it should I may add. But in this he's not wrong as it's not him that has the power to do so."

"He is the regent is he not?" Daenerys asked curiously.

"He is, but he'll not give up his brother's crown so easily. Perhaps though there is still room to work to such an outcome. Even if there is not, there is a use you can get out of Lord Snow." she said and Daenerys listened as she spoke to her of what use that was.

Now.

She'd eaten more so because she had to than because she wished to. The food filled her stomach but not the hole in her heart. There was only one thing that would do that and so it was with eager steps that she made her way to the Chamber of the Painted Table and as she entered the room it was to see that her words of the day before had fallen on deaf ears. Jon Snow had not been invited to the War Council and Olenna didn't look to the queen more than to simply offer her a bow as she took her seat. No sooner had she done so than she smelt the cloying scent of Varys's perfume and she turned to see him enter the room, to her surprise he was not alone when he did so.

"I've asked Lord Snow to join us in our meeting." Daenerys said to odd looks from the Greyjoy's and the Dornish, Tyrion too seemed surprised by this news.

No sooner had he entered than she thought a fight was to break out, Theon Greyjoy foolishly moving towards Jon Snow and offering his hand, which was slapped away angrily.

"You think I'd shake your hand after all you've done?" Jon Snow snarled "Were it not for the word I've given my sister and that I've taken guest rights, then I'd kill you where you stand, my brother is dead because of you, Greyjoy." his snarl now grew even more pronounced.

"I didn't kill Bran or Rickon, Jon, I…"

"And what of Robb? Do you find yourself blameless in his death too? He trusted you, named you a brother of the heart and you betrayed him." Jon Snow said, and Olenna had never seen a man so close to losing it and so full of restraint to ensure that he did not.

"I…"

"Your Grace, I thank you for the invite, but I cannot stay in the same room as this….this….thing." Jon Snow said before moving to the door.

She readied to speak but Greyjoy did it for all of them, he did them a favor and bid to be excused and once he was, Jon Snow then took his seat. Olenna felt greatly relieved by this, as her reasons for having him here were sound she felt. He knew more of what had happened in the Seven Kingdoms than they over the last few moons and he was also a man well versed in war. For all the skills that she possessed, she was not and while she had no doubt the men surrounding the queen were more than capable, this was Westeros and not Essos and the fight here would be a far different one than the one they'd known before.

"We all know why we've come here, what it is we seek to do. I would have your thoughts." Daenerys said.

"We have an army, a fleet, and three dragons, we should hit King's Landing now, hard and with all we have." Yara Greyjoy said, her voice angry though Olenna was sure it was more aimed at Jon Snow than anyone else.

"We turn the dragon's loose on King's Landing and tens of thousands lose their lives." Tyrion snapped back.

"It's called war, you don't have the balls for it then move aside and let it be waged by someone who does." Ellaria said, her disdain for Tyrion clear.

"I've seen how you wage war, Lady Ellaria, we don't poison innocent little girls here." Tyrion angrily replied.

"She was a Lannister, there are no innocent Lannisters." Ellaria said as she smirked.

"Enough, Lord Tyrion is Hand of the Queen, he will be treated with respect." Daenerys said while Olenna found herself looking not to the argument but to Jon Snow who sat watching it all with an odd contemplative look on his face, one that stirred something in her, some memory that she couldn't quite place "I am not here to be the queen of the ashes." Daenerys said, turning Olenna's attention to her.

"That's very nice to hear. Of course, I can't remember a queen who was better loved than my granddaughter. The common people loved her, the nobles loved her. And what is left of her now, ashes. Commoners, nobles, they're all just children really. They won't obey you unless they fear you." she said and she saw out of the corner of her eye how Jon Snow seemed to take her words in more so than it seemed the queen did.

"I am grateful for your counsel, my lady, for all of your counsel. But you named me your queen and I am who decides our course of action. I will not attack King's Landing, we will not attack King's Landing." Daenerys said firmly.

"Then how do you mean to take the Iron Throne, by asking nicely? " she asked, annoyed as Daenerys looked at Tyrion before speaking once more.

"We will lay siege to King's Landing surrounding the city on all sides." Daenerys said as Tyrion began to move to the painted table.

"But we will not use the Unsullied or Dothraki to do so. Cersei will seek to paint us as foreign invaders and to rally the Lords of Westeros to her side. She'll try to use loyalty and love of country to bring them to bear against us and so our army must be Westerosi." Tyrion said.

"And I suppose we supply the army?" Ellaria asked noncommittally.

"You do. Lady Greyjoy will escort you home to Sunspear and her Iron Fleet will then ferry the Dornish Army back up to King's Landing. There the Dornish will lay siege to the Capital alongside the Tyrell army."

"So your master plan is to use our armies. Forgive me for asking, but why did you bother to bring your own?" Olenna said snippily.

"The Unsullied will have another objective, for decades House Lannister has been the true power in Westeros." Tyrion said arrogantly and Olenna heard the small snort that came from Jon Snow at that, Tyrion did not as he continued to speak "And the seat of that power is Casterly Rock. Grey Worm and the Unsullied will sail for the Rock and take it."

It wasn't a snort that she heard from Jon Snow then, the chuckle that came from him was perhaps the only thing that would have stopped an agreement from being made. Olenna could see the small nod that Yara Greyjoy made and the smirk on Ellaria's face. Yet all stilled and all eyes turned to the man who shook his head and wore a smirk that she believed she'd seen somewhere before. His sister perhaps she thought as she tried to picture Sansa Stark in her mind's eye.

"You disagree, Lord Snow?" she asked curiously.

"It's not my place to agree or not, my lady. I'm a guest and not a member of this War Council." he replied amusedly.

"Yet you disagree nonetheless?" Daenerys asked and she saw the small nod that he gave her in return.

"What care we what a wolf thinks?" Yara said and Olenna swore the smirk he wore now was as close to a full smile as one could be without truly being one.

"Lord Snow?" Daenerys asked and the smirk was gone.

"This is the most foolhardy plan I've ever seen in my life, your grace." Jon Snow said to raised voices, Ellaria, Yara, and Tyrion's loudest of all.

"Enough." Daenerys said quieting the room "Explain yourself, Lord Snow?"

"Your grace…" Tyrion began but the dwarf was quickly quietened with a look from the queen.

"The real power in Westeros has been House Lannister, your words or your father's Tyrion?" Jon Snow said and Tyrion retorted angrily.

"You say it's not true?"

"My brother beat your father's army in every battle that he faced against him, were it not for your father resorting to the most underhanded tactics seen in Westeros since Lord Bloodraven was Hand of the King, then he'd have lost. How powerful was he then, my lord? How powerful was he when rather than fight in the rebellion he hid behind the walls of Casterly Rock and only came out to murder a mother and her children and to sack a city with no army of its own to call upon?" Jon Snow sneered.

"My father…"

"Was a cunt. Power, did his power stop the fleet he built being burned at Lannisport by the Greyjoys?" Jon asked and for the first time, Olenna saw Yara smile at something Jon Snow said "Did being so powerful stop the realm finding out whether or not he shit gold as he lay dead in a privy of all places? The Old Lion is dead, your grace, and the White One and the Crazed Lioness are far less powerful than he, So no Casterly Rock is not the seat of power, King's Landing is. Why waste men to take a symbol and nothing more?" Jon Snow said and was it not for the queen's hand on Tyrion's shoulder then he'd have either attacked Jon Snow with words or deeds.

"Continue, Lord Snow, but respectfully." Daenerys said and Jon Snow nodded before speaking once more.

"As for foreign invaders or the Lords of Westeros, no matter what armies you name your own, that's how they'll be portrayed. Are you aware of how people speak of you, your grace, how they may speak of you and your Lord Hand?"

"I am more than aware how some would see me, Lord Snow." Daenerys said glaring at the man, who more credit to him just looked back sympathetically.

"Yet from what I've seen you're nothing like they may think of you, your grace. So fuck how they speak of you and what matters it, as once you take the Iron Throne they'll speak of you only as their queen." Jon Snow said leaving no room for doubt and Olenna wasn't the only one who smirked at his words.

There was silence for a moment before he spoke again, this time Olenna noticed how the queen looked to him and seemed to listen more eagerly to his words.

"I led an army filled with Free Folk from the Wall to Winterfell, your grace. You think I cared what the Bolton's spoke of me or my army? Or that it was the Dreadfort that I sought as my prize? I went where the Bolton's were, I sought to root them out and end their lives and after I was done, then let people name me how they wish. For they all knelt to my brother and named him king, regardless of their feelings for me or my army."

"You would not take the Rock or send ships to Dorne?" Daenerys asked while Tyrion glared at Jon Snow and looked pleadingly to the queen.

"Nor send Lady Olenna to march her army to King's Landing, no. Three things you need to win this war, your grace, other than the dragons and army you have at your beck and call." Jon Snow said and Olenna looked at him even more eagerly than the queen did.

"Three things?" Daenerys asked.

"Coin, Food, and the Will to do what needs to be done." Jon Snow said and it was she that replied and not the queen.

"Food you say, Lord Snow?"

"Winter is coming, my lady. Armies need food, people need food. Where is the Iron Throne to get its food should the Reach stop supplying it? What would they do to secure it? And should they look east, how will they pay for it?" he said and she nodded along, Olenna now seeing something that she had not.

"And the Will, Lord Snow?" Daenerys asked curiously.

"This war ends with Cersei Lannister dead, your grace. That and that alone ends the fight for the throne, how that's achieved matters not, only that it is. That's the will I speak of, it was what drove my march to Winterfell, the will to see Ramsay Bolton dead, which he now is." Jon Snow said and she saw the brief flicker of a smile on his face.

"You've given me much to ponder on, Lord Snow. I thank you for your counsel. Perhaps for now you could allow me and my true War Council to discuss these things." Daenerys said her dismissal was a friendlier one or so Olenna thought.

"Of course, your grace. I wish you good fortune in the war to come." Jon Snow said with a slight bow before leaving and once he did the arguments began anew.

Olenna listened as Yara Greyjoy and Ellaria Sand argued that he was a Stark and so they couldn't take his words as true and as Tyrion whose ego was hurt stoked the flames of distrust even more. She listened and cared not, her own course of action had been set, the Reach needed to be secured if her vengeance was to be had and she felt that if the queen took Jon Snow's counsel there was a far better chance of that than if she did not.