Dragons of Destiny

Winterfell 305 AC.

Ser Davos.

Jon had been proved right and he felt incredibly relieved at that, the thoughts of leaving these people at the mercy of what was to come not something that he could accept. But he'd put his trust in the young man as he'd asked him to and once again his faith had been rewarded. As he walked through the common areas and watched as people both prepared to stay and fight and to march South, Davos smiled thinking back on the conversation he had with Tormund before the Battle of the Bastards.

" Maybe that was our mistake believing in kings." Davos said.

" Jon Snow is not a king."

" No, he's not."

It was true, he wasn't nor would he ever be. Aegon Targaryen was though and it was to him that Davos now walked towards. He may to all those around him be Jon Snow, Jon Stark by the will of Robb Stark, but Davos knew the truth now. Neither of those men was the right man to lead them in the fight that was coming, the one in front of him was. As he approached he looked to see where his king was looking and couldn't resist the smirk that came to his face.

"Seeking your queen, your grace?" he said and Aegon looked his way, that small smirk the king wore more often now was present on his face.

"My queen sent me away, Ser Davos, apparently I scared the armorer." Aegon said.

"Armorer?"

"My queen has taken my advice and decided to avail herself of some protection."

"Good." he said and the smile he got back was a little fuller.

"Walk with me Ser." Aegon said and he did just that, briefly catching sight of the white wolf's fur near the Armory.

They passed by men loading carts, children, women, and those not able to fight saying their goodbyes. Aegon looking at them all with a relieved look on his face. It was madness he thought that these people would have been asked to stay here, as the queen had said they'd need to be protected and still would on the road. But here they were both a liability because they took men away and a danger should they fall.

Aegon stopped to look at Jaime Lannister organizing the wall's defenses, large catapults ready to fire flaming balls covered in pitch and large balls with jagged Dragonglass sticking out from them. There were to be Myrish crossbows with bolts with dragon glass points and archers with Dragonglass arrows along with flaming ones positioned on the walls, Lord Reed putting them through their paces.

The crannogmen were the best archers in the North and their Weirwood bows would allow them to shoot further and truer than any others. Aegon had told him that he wished them to aim for any White Walkers they may see and that some of them had volunteered to hide outside the walls to do so. The Mountain Clans were the fiercest fighters and they were to back the unsullied up. Together they'd stopped most armies, though the one which marched for them wouldn't back down no matter how many they lost.

Once Aegon was happy enough with what he saw they were walking once more, this time towards the Godswood. He saw Brandon Stark sitting by the Weirwood tree, yet it was further in that Aegon brought him. Soon coming to a small clearing where he was bid to take a seat. The king did not, instead he looked around and seemed to almost be waiting for something. Though all Davos saw or heard was the rustling of the leaves.

"I need you to march south with the others Ser Davos." Aegon said raising his hand when he went to object "You're not a fighter and though I wish you here by my side, I need you, my queen needs you where we're asking you to go."

"Of course your grace." he said as Aegon sat, his eyes looking directly into his own and Davos noticed that they were much darker now, almost a purple instead of a grey.

"I don't trust Sansa, as well you know. Lord Tyrion either and though Lord Varys will watch them on the road, I'd ask you to do likewise. But I also wish, my wife wishes for you to have this." Aegon said smiling as he handed him the silver pin.

Davos took it without looking before he saw it clearly and once he did he almost dropped it to the ground. Then he almost shat himself, when from behind him the white wolf came along with the queen and some unsullied guards.

"Your grace." he said looking from Aegon to Daenerys.

"Ser Davos, my husband, and I would name you as our Hand." Daenerys said as Aegon looked past him and to her.

"Your grace, Lord Tyrion?" he asked confused.

"Has proved himself time and again to either not have my best interests at heart and be actively working against mine own or to be incompetent. It's only because I still hold out hope it's the latter that the pin is all I've taken from him." Daenerys said firmly.

"Ser Davos, I trust few people, you, Tormund, the Free Folk, and my queen's own men I count among those I do. We need someone we can trust for this." Aegon said.

"I thank you, your grace, for your trust. I'm not worthy of it or this, but I'll accept both." he said and felt the warm slap on his shoulder from his king.

They were standing there speaking on things to come, making sure that until they reached the Neck that it was assumed they were heading to White Harbor, when Missandei and Grey Worm found them.

"My queen, Lord Greyjoy has returned." Missandei said and he saw Aegon frown a little, though he said nothing.

"We should greet him, Jon." Daenerys said and though he knew that more than likely everyone here knew the truth of Jon, it was clear it was not for everyone else to hear just yet.

They walked back through the Godswood, Davos catching the look Aegon shot Brandon Stark and also the little glance that the boy shot him back. He wasn't sure what his king's issue exactly was with his brother, only that he'd gone from being happy to find out he was alive and back in Winterfell, to wishing very little to do with him. He could understand it with his older sister, she was working actively against them at every turn and Davos had been happy to see that the younger one and Aegon seemed to be getting along much better. But he'd gone from being obsessed with the survival of his family to almost being uncaring about them and Davos didn't know the reasons why.

Walking through the courtyard, he wondered what reception Theon Greyjoy had received here. Given what he'd done it would not be a friendly one he imagined.

Winterfell 305 AC.

Sansa.

Tyrion had spoken at length and aired his grievances out, Sansa stunned to find that he'd lost his position as Hand of the Queen. Though when he'd explained what he'd said and done, she'd been less so. Despite her own feelings on her half brother and the Dragonqueen, she'd come to realize that Jon was right about something. She'd been too upfront about them. From the moment Daenerys had arrived she'd been hostile and in looking back in hindsight, she should not have been. She should have played the perfect lady, put on a smile, and acted a mummer. Shown the face of a friend while keeping her true one hidden. Had she then she'd be closer to the Queen's circle and in a much better position to see her fall.

It was something she regretted now and yet it was something that Tyrion too had failed badly at. He was also unable to keep his true feelings from showing and in doing so he'd proving that he was no friend of Jon's, it had cost him just as it had her. Listening to him as he spoke openly of revenge was another sign that he'd not yet learned from his mistake. It made her feel superior, smarter, that she had where he had not. Tyrion had always assumed himself the smartest person in any room and it was now clearer to her that he was not.

" I love the game, Sansa, and I'm good at it."

She remembered how he had bragged when they'd been wed, while also shuddering as she thought on his face when he'd looked at her that night. She had been naïve at the time and couldn't tell a look of desire when she saw one. Instead, she'd thought Joffrey's false smiles to be evidence of what a man who wished to be with a woman did. She was no longer that naive little girl. Littlefinger, Dontos, Marillion, Tyrion, they'd all wanted her at one time, and had she known then what she did now, then she'd have taken advantage of all of them.

Ramsay had wanted her too, but he was playing a completely different type of game and it was one she didn't have the skills for. Tyrion though didn't look at her the same way anymore, yes he perhaps still wished her in his bed, but he didn't desire it greatly, certainly not as much as he wished for revenge and so it would that she'd use against him. They'd be allies for as much use as a Hand without a position could be to her and he could do the things that she could not.

" We need to see her weaker, Sansa, to see her suffer loss and setback and to have her reach out for my counsel." Tyrion said.

" How?" she asked.

" Here and now, there's little to be done, but once we leave Winterfell and once the battle against the dead is done, then we make our move."

" You wish us to ally with your sister?" she said keeping her feelings on that to herself.

" Partly, we need to exchange information with my sister, information that can see Daenerys fall, just a little, enough so we get what we both want but not enough so my sister can actually win."

" Can it be done?"

" I've done it once, I can see it done again." Tyrion said.

So they were allies now and she'd let him do all the heavy lifting on his side of things. The actions Tyrion was taken would be outright treason and her own role in them had to be limited. She couldn't risk being found out as she was no longer sure that her position offered her the safety she hoped for. Would Jon go against his wife, for her? At one point she'd have not needed to even consider it, his love for family would have been enough, now he may very well consider his new wife to be more his family than she. The Lords of the North would have stood for her but now she wasn't sure and while she knew Lord Royce would, she needed more allies before she could be safe.

After Tyrion had left, she'd spent most of the night looking at each of the Great Houses and trying to see which one served her needs better. If she was being forced to go to White Harbor, then she could divert from there and head to the Eyrie. It was not something she'd have contemplated this early if she was still in favor, but she was not. The North wouldn't come to her before the battle to come, the only way she'd rule it would be after they'd won. It was time she was wed once more and once she had the Vale, once Robin was dealt with, then it would be to the Reach she'd look.

Her fingers traced the names of the Great Houses of the Reach, Hightower, Rowan, Redwyne, Tarly, and Tyrell. Sansa cursing her misfortune when she looked at the last two. Loras would have been the best choice and Dickon Tarly closely following behind, both men though had died by fire, even if it was two different types. House Hightower would perhaps be the power in the Reach, but Sansa knew all but the second son were married and Ser Baelor had heirs of his own. Lord Rowan had only daughters and so she found her fingers tracing House Redwyne's name. Ser's Horas and Hobber, the Horror, and the Slobber as she remembered them both now. Two red-haired, square-faced, freckled boys who would follow Margaery around in the hopes of receiving a smile or nod from the Rose of Highgarden. Sansa struggled to try to remember who was the oldest out of the two.

"Well at least our children will have my hair." she said with a dry chuckle when she realized she could not.

She closed the book and made her way to her bed, her mood darker now than it had been earlier. Marriage was not something she looked forward to, nor something she had thought she'd have to endure once more. The thoughts of having to lay with a man once again were thoughts she'd forced from her mind, ever since she'd fed Ramsay to his dogs. If she was being honest with herself it was a large part of the reason why she'd brought Littlefinger down. Had she not then he'd have soon looked for her to pay him back, in ways that she wasn't sure she would ever be able to again.

Now because of her half brother, her bastard brother, and his damn dragonqueen the voice in her head shouted, now she'd be left with no choice. Robin may be mollified with a kiss here or there, Horror or Slobber would not. She undressed and put on her shift and prepared for the dreams to come. The nightmares she'd endure she believed for the rest of her life were thankfully irregular, yet the more she worried, the more they came and she was worried a lot lately.

"My lady, my lady." the girl said shaking her awake early the next morning.

"What? How dare you? What is the meaning of this?" she said angrily, using the sheet to cover her scarred skin.

"My lady, Theon Greyjoy has arrived, he wishes to speak to you."

"Theon." she said softly.

She hurriedly dressed and made her way to the Great Hall, finding the Dragonqueen and Jon already there. Theon was speaking to Daenerys and then looked her way once he noticed her.

"But why aren't you with her?" Daenerys asked and Sansa looked on as Theon looked at her.

"I want to fight for Winterfell, Lady Sansa." Theon said and paused before looking at her "If you'll have me"

She felt the tears threaten to fall, a genuine feeling of happiness and something else, hope, coming over her. Moving quickly she embraced him and felt the comfort of his arms, he'd come, for her, he'd come. Whether it was the feeling of gratitude she felt because he had saved her or just that he was picking her over his queen, she couldn't be certain of which. Only that he had come for her and she needed someone.

Winterfell 305 AC.

Varys.

Though he'd threatened him and had killed the Glover lord, Aegon had done both things for good reasons and so Varys had accepted them as such. He'd been threatened to protect his queen and now wife and Glover had needed to be made an example of. That he had done so using a Trial by Combat wasn't something that he was best pleased with though. But it would take time for the king to realize it was others you risked and not yourself.

What pleased him greatly though was seeing the way the king and queen interacted, how they worked together and how they each smoothed out the rough edges the other had. Daenerys was wilful at times, unforgiving and unmovable. There would be paths she'd take that not he, Tyrion, or even her own people, save Missandei, could dissuade her from. Aegon however could and he felt it was something she needed, someone to not just share the crown but to offer to carry some of the burdens of ruling too. Aegon was still too straightforward, oh the king knew to play the game, but he didn't know how to look as if he was not.

Politics was as much allowing your rivals to expose themselves as it was forcing them to bend to your will. In this, the queen was far more astute. As she was in the trappings of what a king or queen should look and behave like. Aegon on his own would garner support among the military-minded, not so much amongst those who were not, exactly the type of people that Daenerys would. Alone either one would make a decent king or queen, together they'd make a dynasty and it was one he'd sought and hoped a lifetime for. Stunted lions and defanged wolves would soon find out just how true that was.

It was also one that he'd do everything in his power to ensure would reign and reign long. This was why as he sat in the small room that was his own, Varys looked over the whispers his little birds had sung. Though his network wasn't at the level it once had been, it was growing once more and had spread through the realm. Dorne, the Reach, the West, and The Vale, Crownlands, and Riverlands, and of course the North. His little birds had sung many a song and yet it was this last one which interested him most of all.

A griffin wears a suit of gold and bristles under a lioness's glare.

The words made him almost jump to his feet, thoughts of Tyrion and Sansa Stark's machinations and songs of a Dornish Princess returning to reclaim her Throne or Reach Lords gathering to decide their next moves, forgotten for now. Instead, he moved calmly but with purpose from his room and headed to the King and Queen's. The news he had to share may make what came after the Great War, an easier fight than it could have been.

Varys strolled through the halls and wondered if he should travel further south than he had intended. With the king and queen's permission he would and even if they didn't go for this, then perhaps he should anyway. Not to the same destination of course, while he may not believe that Aegon would truly see the world alight, he knew he or the queen would see him that way should he work against their wishes. No, he'd explain his plan and accept their decision, if they didn't wish him to speak to Jon Connington then it would be to the Reach or Dorne he would go.

The two unsullied who guarded the door looked to him and Varys asked to see the king and queen, one of the men slipping into the room, and then he was being bid follow. Aegon was looking at a map of the North with the queen by his side, Varys smiling to see her hand in his as they looked down upon it. His presence had been taken note of but was not acknowledged for a few more moments until the queen bid him sit.

"You wished to see us, Lord Varys?" The king asked.

"I did your grace, your grace." he said nodding to them both "I've received an interesting song from King's Landing, one which I think gives us an interesting option to explore."

"Go on, Lord Varys." the queen said.

"Do either of you know the name Jon Connington?" he asked and it was Aegon who responded.

"He was Hand of the King under Aerys, lost the Battle of the Bells at the Stoney Sept." the king said.

"He did, your grace." he said looking to see if Aegon knew more "He was also one of Prince Rhaegar's closest friends, one of his staunchest supporters."

"Surely like others who supported my brother, he too is dead, Lord Varys?" Daenerys asked.

"Far from it. At present he's a part of the Golden Company and is currently in King's Landing." he said to a glower from the queen and a more intrigued look for the king.

"He's a traitor." Daenerys said angrily.

"I think Lord Varys believes not, my love, else he wouldn't be bringing this to us. You think him still a Leal man when it comes to House Targaryen?" Aegon asked.

"To Prince Rhaegar especially, your grace." he said and saw Daenerys look confused while Aegon frowned.

"It's too big a risk." Aegon said shaking his head as Daenerys looked to him, still unclear what he was speaking about.

"Aegon?" she said softly.

"Lord Varys wishes to use me to bring Lord Connington and the Golden Company to our side." Aegon said and Daenerys looked to him to see that indeed was his plan.

Though even he doubted he could bring the entire company, perhaps enough that it would allow for a different option when it came to taking the capital. Maybe they could be even luckier and the Golden Company would follow the Griffin, but he'd need to see them for himself before that would be clear.

"You believe this man to be true, Lord Varys?" the queen asked looking directly at him.

"I believe it enough to approach him, my queen, only then would I know if he's true." he said far more honestly than he was used to.

"Tell me of your other songs?" Aegon asked.

He told them of Princess Arianne and her return, of the meeting in Oldtown that the Lords of the Reach would be attending, and then finally about Sansa and Tyrion's plotting. The first two received surprised looks from them both, the last one did not. Varys was happy to see it, should he need to go South which given how the queen was looking at the king was now clear, then it was best they knew what to expect from those left behind.

"Approach Connington, Lord Varys. Only if you're sure of his loyalty and he can bring us an advantage do I give you leave to speak the truth. The reward better be worth the risk my lord, if not, then we'll deal with the Golden Company in a different way." Aegon said.

"Your little birds, Lord Varys, will there be some traveling with those heading South?" Daenerys asked and he nodded "Can their messages regarding Lord Tyrion and Lady Sansa be diverted to us?"

"They will be, my queen."

"Good. After King's Landing, I wish you to head to Dorne and the Reach, speak to Princess Arianne and the Reach lords, find out their minds on myself and my husband."

"Of course, your grace." he said standing up and moving to the door.

"Lord Varys." Aegon called and he turned to look back at the king "Be safe, I'd prefer to see you alive when next we meet."

"I shall do all I can to ensure I am, your grace."

He was surprised by the concern if he was being honest with himself, it was something rarely shown to him over the years. Walking back to his room he found his heart racing that little bit faster than usual, he so loved this game.

Winterfell 305 AC.

Arya.

Jon had been very busy ever since the dragon ride and their spar, which left her with more time on her hands than she wished. It allowed thoughts that she had done her very best to ignore to begin to come to mind once more, feelings she'd repressed now threatening to overwhelm her. When she'd come back here she'd not felt it, not truly at least, now though it was everywhere. The bailey where her father would stand and watch the boys train, the Sept where her mother would pray daily and where she'd fear to tread.

Inside the keep, it was even worse and so she stayed outside as much as she could, only going inside to eat and sleep, not that she was getting much of that. Whatever ghosts she faced outside of the keep or even the ones she saw when she walked to and from her room, they were nothing compared to the ones she saw at night. Ser Rodrik, Maester Luwin, Septon Chayle, and so many others among the household of Winterfell who'd fallen. As for her family, they were there always.

Her mother telling her to be more be like her sister, Robb telling her that she couldn't join him and Jon in their spars. Rickon pulling her hair so he could grab something from her plate and her father, gods her father was everywhere. She'd see his grey eyes and his harsh looks, his soft smiles and at times she'd muss her own hair remembering how he would do it to her. He and Jon had that in common, both of them knew how it annoyed her and pleased her so and it was yet another thing she'd missed on those lonely nights away from here.

She brushed her sleeve over her eyes and wiped away the tears, glad she'd found someplace where she could look but not be seen. As a child, she knew every nook and cranny of the keep and its grounds, she doubted there was any who knew Winterfell as well as she and now she took full advantage of that knowledge. Feeling slightly more composed, she walked from her hiding spot and was soon in the yard itself, once again at a loss what to do, until she saw him. He'd grown and was still bigger than she was even though she'd grown too, their difference in size had not diminished in the years since she'd seen him last. Taking a step towards him, she found she couldn't move and then turned swiftly at the sound of the snort behind her.

"For fuck's sake, are all you damn Starks so fucking cowardly?" the Hound said.

"I'm not a fucking craven." she said gripping needle and moving forward.

"No, not in a fight wolf girl, in a fight, you'll front anyone, but when it comes to taking to a bastard smith you're more craven than any I've ever met."

"Fuck you, dog." she said and heard him chuckle.

"I've been fucked over by bigger women than you, wolf girl, but prove me wrong, show me you're brave?" he said and turned to walk away from her.

She felt her hand on needle's hilt, her eyes glaring at him as he walked, and yet he wasn't challenging her to a fight, and giving him one proved nothing. So she turned and walked toward the smithy's, her steps slow and nervous as she gathered up her courage to walk inside. By the time she got there she was embarrassed, she was Arya Stark of Winterfell, sister to a king and had traveled the world alone for years, what in the seven hells was she afraid of?.

He stood there, swinging his hammer and smacking it down on the Dragonglass. Arya standing to one side as she watched it be broken up. Without turning around he picked up the broken pieces and began to fix the jagged edges to the tips of spikes. Or to take the larger pieces and put them to one side so they could be used on the Unsullied and other people's spears. It was an incredible thing to see, the lines of daggers, arrowheads, spear tips, and then the smaller broken pieces being fitted to spikes and added to the hardened mudballs. Arya having watched as Jon showed the usefulness of them by aiming them against some dummies.

"Are you not going to say anything." Gendry said and she blushed realizing he'd been watching her as she had him, so she shook her head and moved towards him handing him a drawing.

"I want you to make me this." she said and he looked at it and then her, Arya trying not to look at him in return.

"A weapon?" he asked and she nodded.

"Can you make it or not? Both ends need to have Dragonglass attached." she said and he looked at it again, while she took the chance to look more closely at him.

His arms were bigger, his chest too, and yet he was the same also. She still only came up to his shoulder and his eyes were as blue as she'd remembered, though he smiled less now, or at least he did when she watched him.

"What do you need this for, you've got a sword?"

"Can you make it?" she asked annoyed.

"Of course my lady." he said with a bow.

"Fuck off, " she said, and when she saw him smile her own appeared.

She felt it once again, that fear which was a feeling she'd not known for many years, a feeling she'd hidden deep down inside in order to survive. As he looked at her, she felt on the verge of panic, the need to flee coming faster than she could bear.

"I have to go." she said turning and he reached out and grabbed her shoulder.

"It's good to see you, Arya Stark." he said his smile still on his face.

"You too." she said back as she turned from him.

She walked quickly from the smithy and knew she needed to get somewhere where she could be alone. Moving through the yard, she darted in through the first door she came to. It was cold and dark and she could breathe again, though her comfort wasn't to last too long. The realization of where she was soon causing the tears to fall. It felt different to be here now, she wasn't no one this time and the thoughts of looking at the statues were more troubling than they had been before. She turned to leave when she heard his voice, her feet almost going to him without her consent, but she needed to be held and she knew Jon would do so.

"I'm to be a father, mother, Dany is carrying our child. Our babe will be born into a better world, I swear it to you here and now. I wish I could have known you, grown up with you in my life. Whatever life that would have been I know I'd have been happy had you lived. If we'd have lived in a shack, been on the run for our lives, had we needed to go beyond the Wall and be one of the Free Folk. It would have been better, had you lived, it would have been better, mother." Jon said, his voice cracking at the end.

She moved quickly, her brother was in pain and he needed her as much as she did him and yet when she found him it stopped her in her tracks. Jon was standing in front of their Aunt Lyanna's statue, a small blue rose in his hand as he looked at it and Arya stood almost as still as he did as the words finally hit home.

Mother.

Aunt Lyanna.

She was his mother, but…

She couldn't be their father, their father wouldn't he couldn't, he wasn't Jaime Lannister, nor was he a Targaryen, but Jon…

Jon could ride a dragon, he had bonded with a dragon and though she'd been so overwhelmed by her own ride on it, that thought had taken root in the back of her head. How could he? Only Targaryen could ride dragons, only those with the blood of Old Valyria in their veins could bond with them. His mother, Jon's mother must have been a Targaryen the voice in her head had said or a Valyrian of some fashion. She'd ignored the voice after that, it mattered not in the end who his mother was, he was her brother and that was the only thing that meant anything in this damn crazy world.

"Arya?" Jon said moving towards her and she moved away from him for the first time in her life.

Jon was, he was… no he wasn't, he couldn't be, he was her brother, he had to be her brother, she needed him to be her brother.

"Jon?" she said as she dropped to her knees as the world went dark.

She slept for some time and woke to find him sitting by her bed, Arya took the water when he offered it and watched him as he looked at her. It didn't seem as if he had slept much lately either she thought when she saw the dark circles under his eyes.

"How long?" she asked.

"Three days." he said and she nodded.

"You haven't been sleeping have you?" he asked his voice accusatory.

"You're not my brother, are you?" she snapped back.

"I am your brother, I've always been your brother." he said firmly and she grabbed him and held him tight, feeling herself sob against him as he softly rubbed her back.

He held her for some time and she felt as if a huge weight had been removed from her chest, her greatest fear was that she was alone in this world once more. But as she moved back from him and looked into his eyes, eyes that were now more purple than the dark grey they had always been, she knew he didn't see her as anything less than she saw him.

"Will you tell me? Everything?" she asked and he nodded.

"Aye, but not here."

"No, not here. Has everyone left?" she asked wondering if Gendry had traveled South.

"Mostly, Sansa hasn't yet." Jon said and she got the feeling that her collapse wasn't the reason.

"Why?" she asked.

"Theon." Jon said and she looked at him curiously.

"I'll tell you later, I'll have some food brought, you must be starved." he said and she nodded, half expecting her belly to rumble when she noticed just how hungry she was.

He reached down and mussed her hair and she found herself giggling as he kissed her forehead and moved away.

"I love you Little Sister." Jon said and smiled nervously he looked at her.

"I love you too, brother." she said, seeing his smile being far more true as he walked to the door.

She lay back down on the bed and closed her eyes, the ghosts appearing once more, though this time it felt different. This time she felt at peace and she welcomed seeing their faces, they were part of her and her them. They were her blood, her family, just as Jon had always been.

Winterfell 305 AC.

Maege Mormont.

The preparations were unlike any she could ever remember, Dothraki, Unsullied, Knights of the Vale, Northmen, and Wildings all working hand in hand on the biggest battle plan she had ever seen. Winterfell was being readied for a siege, an attack, and from what she'd seen and what Jon Snow had said, this attack would be full-on and constant. There would be no respite to be found, no quarter given, the dead would come and until they were defeated or Winterfell had been taken, the fight would go on.

Watching as dragons burned the ground to allow for trenches to be dug, as weapons of steel and iron were replaced with a glass that looked far too brittle, Maege felt her eagerness for the fight to come begin to rise. Five years she'd wallowed and withered in her despair. Five years where she'd left her last remaining child alone in a world that was far from certain. The flayed man could have sought to take Bear Island, Roose's mad dogs could have been unleashed on her Lyanna and yet Maege had been grief-stricken and paralyzed for far too long.

Even when she had decided the time was right, she'd waited, hesitated, and days had turned to weeks, to moons and even years. It was only seeing the vision that had held her mace in the end and only the knowledge that she could save her little bear that had kept her at Greywater Watch for these last few years. Maege shuddering when she closed her eyes and saw it once more.

The dragons flew and were taken down to the ground, the queen falling and soon running only to be saved by a man bearing the bear of Bear Island. Jorah fought valiantly, Jorah fought nobly, Jorah fought honorably and Jorah fell while protecting his queen.

Jon Snow faced off against a dragon and around the keep, men fell and rose again and all seemed lost.

The girl was hurt and moved yet she shouted, the bear she was clear for all to see and the giant her target. The sound of bones being crushed as she was lifted from the ground was not enough to stop her and she thrust forward, the knife buried in the giant's eye as both fell to the ground. The last of their line dead way before her time, before she could find love, marry, bear children, before she could grow to be the woman she should.

Maege had not wished to see more, could barely bear to look and yet the gods in their cruelty were not done with her yet. She watched as the North fell to famine and disease, to wars and petty squabbles, as city by city turned to dust. As beyond the Wall, a man who should be king wasted away in front of a Weirwood and as time moved ever on. For thousands of years, the North had stood, proud and against all odds, and yet in less than a generation all of that had been wiped away.

Yet it was to the girl that Maege looked and not the North itself, to her daughter, the last of her blood as she was killed in front of her eyes. She had thought the pain of Dacey's loss was something she'd not be able to survive and yet seeing Lyanna's through her own eyes hurt even more. The gods showing her what was to happen and then the voice telling her that it need not be that way. The voice sounding older than time itself and yet filling her with a hope she'd thought lost.

" Wait for the call, Maege of House Mormont, wait for the call and you can save the North, your house, and your child. Wait and all is not lost."

So she had done as the gods bid and as she walked into the Great Hall and saw Lyanna sitting with Jorah, she felt that there was still hope to be had. Their people were heading to the South for their protection, their king, and queen making preparations for the war to come that they'd not done before. It was with a smile on her face that she sat down and drank the offered ale, a smile that didn't last very long when she saw the scowl on Lyanna's own.

"What's wrong?" she asked and her daughter motioned to where Sansa Stark was sitting.

Maege looked over and couldn't see what it was that annoyed Lyanns so for a few moments before she did and felt her blood begin to rise. Sansa was smiling and laughing with Theon Turncloak as if he was not the root cause for most of the North's problems. Had he not betrayed Robb, if Winterfell hadn't fallen to him and Bran and Rickon Stark hadn't been presumed dead, how different may things have been. Her hand moved to the knife at her hip and she gripped the hilt and she glared at the two of them, rising to her feet when she could take no more.

"THEON." Sansa Stark screamed out and then the Great Hall was in chaos, the blood pumping from the Turncloak, and Maege could only hope that the girl who'd stabbed him had an aim that was true.

"Get Wolkan." She heard the King call out and then a girl's voice shouted out.

"He deserved it, he deserved it, he killed my father." the girl said as she cried.

The Maester arrived and Theon was helped to his rooms, Maege sorry to see the knife had just caught his shoulder and not his neck as she had hoped. She heard the slap and scream from Sansa Stark and the girl just took it, the queen ordering her guards to keep them away from each other.

"She needs to be punished your grace, executed, she's broken guest right, I demand her head." Sansa Stark said loudly and Maege shook her head, a wolf standing up for a damn Kraken, what had the North become.

"You don't get to demand anything of a queen, Lady Stark." the king said.

"So there is to be no justice, is this the world you're building." Sansa said bitterly.

"Mind your tongue or you'll find yourself not a part of that world, Lady Stark." the king said and his voice sent a chill down Maege's spine, there was ice in those words she thought proudly.

"I demand justice for Theon." Sansa Stark said loudly and Maege cringed once more.

"Justice, for him, after what he's done? What about my justice? What about Luwin's or Chayle's Kyra or Farlen? What of my father?" the girl said and Maege watched as the king moved towards the girl, as she shied away from him when he raised his hand to her face.

"Beth? Beth Cassel?" the king said and the girl began to cry once again.

That the king took her in his arms and held her, allowed her to cry against his shoulder while he spoke softly to her, raised some eyebrows from many, though not the queen. Maege looked to see the realization as it dawned on Sansa Stark's face, as she held her tongue and stopped demanding justice for the unjust. Theon was a traitor to the North, that he was in the queen's service didn't stop that and she listened eagerly as the king readied to speak.

"Ser Davos, please take Beth into your custody, see she's bathed and fed, I'll speak to her later." Jon Snow said his voice softer than it usually was.

She and the rest of those in the Great Hall watched as the older man who now wore the pin of the Hand that had once belonged to Tyrion Lannister, led the girl away. Then the king looked to his sister and the room hushed.

"When he's recovered Theon Greyjoy will march South, he's no longer welcome in these halls or in the North itself." the king said as he turned.

"He saved me." Sansa Stark replied sadly.

"Aye and for that he'll keep his head, but The North Remembers, Sansa, the North Remembers." Jon Snow said and she like others slammed her mug on the table in agreement.

Winterfell 305 AC.

Bran.

He could make no sense of it, things were different, and yet when he saw the future it was fleeting and would change constantly but always be the same one he wished for. Jon had married Daenerys and she'd taken Tyrion's pin from his chest, Theon was to be sent away with everyone else, and yet the future he'd seen still seemed to be the one they faced. Some things had changed and events played out differently than they once had but the outcome he sought was still in reach.

There should be bigger diversions, the path they were on should not lead them to the same destination, it could not and yet it did. Arya still killed the Night King, Jon's truth still tore him and the queen apart and everything ended with all four Starks alive. It felt wrong and right at the same time and try as he might, nothing he did showed him anything other than what needed to happen. So instead of looking into their entire future, he began to look into them singularly.

The old man knelt by the tree, the words written as he closed his eyes. His dark hair had faded to grey many years before and his eyes didn't have the luster they once held, but he was clearly Jon, though he had written Aegon in the soot.

Her red hair had lost its sheen many years ago, the lines on her face, and the slowness of her walk clear signs of her aging. The battles outside her gates would end soon and they would finally reach her. Bran watched as Sansa walked slowly but with purpose, the crown on her head one she'd not worn in over twenty years. What good was a crown without a kingdom to rule and Sansa had not been Queen in the North, not truly for more than half her life. The sound of the gates crashing down made her hurry a little, the door of the Sept in the distance her destination. Once she reached it she lit a candle to the mother and then took the bottle from her dress, drinking it down swiftly.

What lay west of Westeros, that had been her refrain when she'd taken sail, the idea of finding new lands and seeing what lay in them one which intrigued her. She had come home to be someone only to find she had no home, what use did no one have of one. So she had sailed, through storms and waves that threatened to destroy her ship, through a mutiny and finally they had reached this god's abandoned place and she had found out the truth.

She looked down at the wound on her side, the blood leaking out of it alone would be enough to see her end and yet it wouldn't be that which ended her. The Catspaw dagger was long gone, buried in the back of one of those, one of those things. Needle remained though, just as it always did it remained and she held it in her hand as they came for her. She closed her eyes and tried to picture her brother, only to find to her horror she could not.

" I should have gone North, I should have gone with Jon" she said as they began tearing into her body.

The executions had gone on for years, loyalty was something he had to force and not something he'd ever been lucky enough to earn. No that wasn't true, he had people loyal to him once, a boy, a girl, a giant, and a wolf, they had been his friends, hadn't they? Now he was surrounded by people who wanted, people who feared him and plotted against him, Tyrion having been the first. Though it was easy enough to get rid of his Hand and then his Grandmaester. Bronn had stayed loyal surprisingly, though that was because Bran had been able to tell him of the plots against him, being able to save him, for a while at least.

Dorne, The Iron Island, The Reach, it was like trying to catch snow in your hands as it fell a task beyond him and one that only gave you a fleeting success. He'd held each of them only briefly and then just like the snow he'd held in his hands as a boy, they were gone too. He should have acted when Yara took her ships and never returned, but what cared he for some rocks. When the princess named herself Queen of the Rhoynar, he should have ordered his army to see her brought low, but what cared he for sand. By the time the Reach declared itself independent, he could no longer act, the Stormlands taking their chance to do so almost at once, and Bran had gone from the king with six kingdoms to one with two.

Yet it mattered not, he was never supposed to be king, he was to have been a knight, a brother, a husband, and a father. The image of her face one he'd found himself looking back on over the years and yet not once had he looked to see how Meera had been since he'd let her go from his life. How long had it been? Forty? Fifty years? More? Time held so little meaning to him, most things did. Even hearing of Sansa's demise had done nothing to make him feel something, anything, he'd seen it many years ago after all, just as he'd seen his own.

The West, the Riverlands, the Vale, the Reach, a new king had risen and soon he would be here, and so it was time for Brandon Stark to fly.

He opened his eyes, the futures were the same, each of them ending how they were supposed to and still it made no sense. This world should not lead to that world and yet it did. Bran sighed, one of the few sounds and emotions he still was able to feel or make that were truly his. He sighed and he closed his eyes and he began to look once more.

Winterfell 305 AC.

Aegon.

She had scared him, both with what she now knew about him and with her collapse in front of him. Aegon making sure that after Wolkan had examined her that some of Dany's Dothraki healers had done so too. He'd been relieved to find out that it had just been tiredness, Arya had not been sleeping and had told no one of it. Something she confided in him when they spoke later on his truth. That it, in the end, made no difference to her was a weight off his shoulders. The thoughts of having to threaten or cajole his sister into keeping his secret were ones he'd rather not have.

He'd have done it, for all the good it would have done, he'd have threatened her and done everything he could to get her to keep it to herself. Now wasn't the time for that truth to come out and it would only give Sansa and Tyrion something that could be used against him, against Dany. So while he'd sat over Arya's bed, Aegon had plotted what to do if she said no, his mind leading him to very dark certainties.

Should she refuse then he'd be left with no choice, it would be them or her and he'd choose them. He'd only just gotten his little sister back, that hole in his heart that had been because of her had only just been filled back in. Aegon knew that he could not kill her, which meant that he had to kill them. Tyrion and Sansa, both would die and die before Arya left her bed, he'd not take the risk, and with them dead, there were few Arya could speak it too who could actually do Dany harm. Fewer each day as he'd kill them all to protect his wife and child. In the end, though it had been all for naught, Arya's words showing him that she was truly his little sister still.

" Do we need to talk of it?" he asked.

" Do you wish to?" Arya replied.

" One day, but not today." he said and she nodded.

" I don't care who your father is Jon, or your mother, truly I don't. You've been my brother from the day I was born, you were Rickon's and even more so Robb's. You'd be Bran's if it was truly still Bran in there too."

" Sansa?"

" Never thought of you as a brother when we grew up, it's clear she doesn't think you one now." Arya said.

" Aye."

" Remember when we had a secret, when we'd done something that could get us into trouble?" Arya asked.

" Aye, I remember, usually it were you causing us to be in trouble?" he said a smirk on his face.

" You were too serious, you needed some fun." she said with a chuckle "Remember what we would promise?"

" Aye, I remember." he said looking to her and seeing her smile and nod at him.

" Don't tell Sansa." they said together, both of them laughing once they'd done so.

" I won't Jon, it's not my truth to tell and I'll tell no one, just like when we were children." she said seriously and he leaned over to kiss her forehead, feeling her wrap her arms around him.

He had told Dany of it all, his wife had been worried until she'd spoken to Arya herself, finding out from her things that she'd not even told him yet about her time in Essos. Once she'd rested, Arya was soon back up and about and Aegon was happy to see how much time she spent with Dany from then on. He'd find both of them laughing and Arya telling stories of him growing up, Aegon filling in other parts that even Arya didn't know about.

"You really hid in the crypts to scare, Sansa?" Dany asked the smile on her face a clear sign of the amusement she was feeling.

"Aye, bloody hours I hid, tried to scare this one too, only to get a kick on the shin for my trouble."

"You were a terrible Ghost." Arya said as the laughing started again.

It was a strange feeling, Arya never spent any time with Sansa at all. She barely even spoke to her and as for Bran, no one spent time with him. Sansa had sat over Theon Greyjoy's bed and yet had not visited her sister's once, something that Arya was upset about but never mentioned. Even when it came time for the march south, Arya and Sansa didn't speak, Aegon instead bidding them all farewell.

"When the war is won, we'll send for you all, Ser Davos carries our order, and Lord Wyman and his men will see you safe."

"What if you lose?" Sansa asked and Aegon could have slapped her for the worried looks that provoked in the men, women, and children who had not yet departed.

"We won't lose. I swear it here and now in front of you all, we will carry the day and end the Long Night. We will strike the Night King and his armies down. Me, my queen, the Dothraki and Unsullied, the Knights of the Vale, The Free Folk, and the Men of the North. We will see the Dawn brought to the North once more and see you all returned to your homes, I give you my oath on that." he said to cheers and a scowl from Sansa.

He watched as men said goodbye to their families, men from very different places and cultures, and here they were untied by the same bonds that bound them all, family. Tyrion said goodbye to Jaime and Grey Worm to Missandei, Aegon looking on when Dany and her closest friend said a much more tearful goodbye. He moved to Ghost and knelt down looking into his eyes and seeing the reluctance to do as he bid. The wolf finally licking his face and then rushing off to stand beside Dany and Missandei. Aegon saw the smile on his wife's face when Ghost walked with Missandei and the nod from Grey Worm as Aegon then moved to Ser Davos.

"I'll see you soon, my friend." he said clasping the man's hand in his own.

"Sooner rather than later, your grace." Davos said and Aegon gave him a nod.

"Watch them, Davos, as will Ghost, don't look as if you are but see how much time they spend together."

"I will, should they send ravens or messages?" Davos asked.

"Let them, as long as they think they're going to White Harbor, let them do as they wish." he said as Davos surprisingly grabbed him in a hug.

"You be careful, Jon, try not to risk it all." Davos said, his voice softly chiding.

"I'll not, I have too much to risk should I fall, Davos." he said quietly, feeling the slap on his back when Davos let him go.

As they marched out the gates he was joined by Dany, his wife though a little happier seeing Ghost leave with Missandei was still clearly upset. Aegon wasted no time in taking her in his arms, feeling her lean into him as he whispered they'd see them soon and that at least they'd be safer where they were going.

Dinner that night was a more muted affair, most people's minds were still on their family and friends that were now elsewhere. He sat with Dany, Arya, Jaime Lannister, Brienne, Tormund, and the Mormonts, the High table abandoned as they all sat around a large one. Maege telling stories of both her own and their family, Aegon asking for and receiving tales of his mother, though they still thought her his aunt. He told his own stories of Jeor and then smiled when Jaime Lannister told stories of Rhaella, Dany's own smile soon appearing as she listened to tales of her mother.

That his wife was too tired for them to lay together was a surprise and it soon became clear that it was worry and sadness that made her feel that way. So instead he held her in his arms and allowed her to sleep as he told her over and over that they would win and she would see her friend once more. That one day she'd look on as Missandei taught their babe languages that neither of them could speak, as she fixed their daughter's hair or scolded their son.

When they woke they broke their fast alone, neither of them wanting to face people before they had to. Aegon was glad to see his wife seemed in a far better mood and that her appetite was ravenous as she ate his meal as well as her own. She was not however in happy about his jape that he'd need to find a breastplate stretcher.

"There's no such thing." she said and he ducked the slap she aimed at his head.

"Aye, there's not." he said moving to kiss her.

"Are you truly sure this is what we need to do?" she asked after a few moments.

"It is."

The meeting was far larger than a war council should be, there were far too many prickly lords who'd have taken offense at not being invited and so it was held in one of the larger reception rooms. There were no chairs set up, nor refreshments offered or ordered, it would be simple and direct, and once done he and Dany would leave that very day. They arrived last as was a king and queen's right and Aegon looked out at those assembled, some of whom already knew his mind and the roles they'd be given this day.

"My lords, My Ladies, it's time we made our plans known." Aegon said looking to see those who were unaware look on eagerly.

"Ser Jaime, you are to be in charge of the seeing to the defenses outside the keep, I believe his grace has told you exactly what is needed?" Dany said and Jaime nodded.

"He has your grace, the trenches have been dug and will be lined today, the other defenses within the next two or three."

"Lord Royce." Aegon said and the lord stood forward.

"Your grace."

"Qhono will show you where the Knight's of the Vale are to line up, I'd ask you to ride the ground with him and the Dothraki, to see if there needs to be any alterations to the plans?" Aegon said.

"Grey Worm, Lord Beric, Lady Brienne." Dany said and the three moved forward.

"Your Grace." Brienne said.

"The keeps defenses are in your hands." Dany said to nods.

"Ser Jorah, Lady Maege, Lord Glover" she said next and the three moved as the others moved back.

"The infantry is yours." Dany said and Aegon looked to Lord Reed.

"Lord Reed, the archers." he said and the small Crannogman nodded.

"Your grace." he said with a bow.

"The Wull, Tormund" Aegon called and Big Bucket stepped forward "Ravagers, The Wull, disorganized infantry, you and Tormund can train them better than any."

"Aye, we will The Jon."

"We'll stick our spears up their dead arses, King Crow." Tormund said to laughs.

He looked out at them all, this was only initial preparation and they'd be here to oversee the last parts themselves, but they needed to give the orders before they left. Dany turned and nodded and then Aegon began to speak once more.

"The army we face is much larger than our own, very much larger, should they arrive here unhindered then even with all our preparations it may not be enough. I say this not to worry you or to cause you to doubt, but only because it makes what we must do not just necessary, but crucial."

"His grace and I will take the Dragons and fly towards that army, we'll hit as many of them as we can, we'll harass and harry the army for as long as we can before we will return. With luck and the will of the gods, we'll diminish their numbers enough that we'll have the edge." Dany said.

"Should you be risking yourselves of the dragons so?" Arya asked and Aegon smiled at her concern.

"Life is a risk, Arya, but we'll take no more than is needed." Dany said.

"My Lords my Ladies, the Night King and his army marches towards us, it's time to show them what they face. He is not the one who decides our fate, he does not get to decide where this battle is fought. I say if he wants a fight then we give him one, we bring the fight to him."