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

"We won't rest today, Ser Jorah, won't stop, so if there is anything you need to attend to?"

"I am good, Khalessi."

"Then we fly." she said determinedly.

She'd woken early, broken her fast early, and now wished to be on Dragonstone before the night fell. Beneath her, Drogon felt her eagerness and her son responded in kind. The flight taking far less time than she feared and seeing the island come into view, seeing Rhaegal on the cliffs and looking unworried, was only trumped by seeing Baelon standing there and looking unharmed. Yet still, when they landed and she climbed down off Drogon's back, she almost raced to Baelon and her eyes took him in completely as she sought any sign of injury. Relieved to find there were none, she then worried why he'd sought her aid even more.

"Baelon, you are well?" she asked, just to make sure.

"Oh Dany, gods, Dany, I…"

"Baelon?" she asked as she felt him hold her tightly.

"I need you, Dany, I can't….I can't do this alone." he said, sounding almost broken.

It took the walk to the keep to find out what had made him that way and despite wishing to fly straight to King's Landing, she knew that she'd be of better use here. Baelon needed her and so she'd be by his side and on the morrow, together they'd offer whatever aid they could. They were met by Olenna and a younger woman when they reached the keep, Dany barely paying attention to the one and little to the other.

"We'll talk on the morrow, Lady Olenna." she said and was glad the lady left it at that.

She led Baelon to her rooms, called for refreshments, and then was stunned when they arrived and Baelon refused to touch any of them. His hunger was clear to her and yet he'd not eat and it took her some time to find out the reason for that.

"They have so little, Dany, the children especially. How am I supposed to…" Baelon said looking at the full plate and she moved to him, knowing words would have little effect and instead she let her arms, her kisses, the feel of her offer her love the comfort he so needed.

They fell asleep on her bed, Baelon fully dressed while she was very much not. It was a fitful sleep for both of them, Baelon's sighs and little shudders forcing her to wake and speak softly to him more than once. She let him sleep on the next morning while she made her way to speak to Olenna and found her with the same young woman once more. This time finding out just who that woman was and just hearing the name stirred up feelings she'd thought she was over. Was it not for what Olenna said and the shock of hearing those words be properly explained, something that Baelon had not been able to do, then Desmera Redwyne may have taken up all her thoughts and attention.

"It's truly that bad?" she asked after Olenna had spoken.

"Unfortunately, your grace. We have no idea of the full extent of the losses but they are in the thousands, tens of thousands at the least."

"By the gods, Who? How? Why?"

"There is only one woman who'd seek to do such a thing, one woman who's mad enough to do such a thing. Cersei Lannister is a jealous and cruel woman who'd not give up something she believed was hers and who has used Wildfire before." Olenna said and as Dany moved to offer the woman her hand, she saw there as no need for it as Desmera did so before her.

They were interrupted by Baelon and she was happy to see he looked much better. The kiss he placed on her lips was one she much appreciated. As she listened to him speak of his frustrations with the lords nearest the now devastated city, Olenna added little bits that showed things in that regard had been somewhat resolved. When Olenna brought up the wealth she'd lost, Dany surprised her with her nonchalance.

"I did not bring all my wealth with me and not even all to King's Landing, Lady Olenna. There is some in the vault here too, Less than half of what I brought but enough to be of use. More is in Meereen as well should it be needed." she said and then she stopped for a moment, letting the thought fully develop. "We need to send word to Daario Naharis, it's not just wealth we need but food, supplies is it not?" she asked excitedly, not seeing the frown on Baelon's face.

"Aye, it is."

"The Bay of Dragons has much it can offer us, much we may need." she said happily.

After writing out the letter that she'd send to Daario and speaking to Olenna about the coin she'd already provided and asking her to keep a note of it so she could be reimbursed later. She and Baelon along with Ser Jorah made their way to the cliffs and to the dragons.

"Be prepared, Dany, for it's a heart-wrenching sight." Baelon said and she moved to him and offered him her hand once more.

"Together, we'll help them Baelon." she said and he nodded, smiling at her for the first time since he'd first seen her return.

A week later.

Gods help her she'd tried. She'd done all she could to put the woman from her mind and found that not even all she needed to concentrate on was enough to do so. Each time she saw her, every time she caught Baelon looking in her direction, Bran's words would come back to haunt her. So much so that Dany even began to picture the children they'd have together and consider the politics of what such a match would mean to the realm. At one point, during one of her darkest moments, she found herself almost wishing for her death in the war that was to come, just so she'd not be a barrier or obstacle to Baelon's future.

It made her feel terrible about herself. To be thinking of such things when there were far more important things to consider. They had far too few supplies, far too little to offer, and not even demanding that keeps and villages give up more than half their winter supplies was enough to stop the suffering that was soon to come. Ships had been sent to Essos, orders for food and coin put aside to see it bought and yet it would not be enough and not be in time. More people were going to die and there was nothing that she, Baelon, or anyone could do to stop it.

Turning her mind from Desmera and Baelon for a moment, she thought back to what Baelon had said to the people at the large meeting they'd held. The words he'd spoken had been heard by one and all and though it had taken much out of him to speak them, her pride in him that he did so was absolute. He'd shown his need for her when she'd arrived and he'd told her that were she not by his side then he'd not have found the strength to do what he must and yet she'd not believed him for once. For he was far stronger than he gave himself credit for and if she was his strength, then he was very much hers too.

" I'll not stand here and lie to you. Nor sway you with pretty words and speak untruths so you'll cheer my name. I'll not hold it against any who curse me or speak ill of me for what I must tell you all, for it's a harsh truth that I must share with you." Baelon said as they stood on some raised boxes so that as many of those around them could see and hear as was possible.

" Speak your truths, your grace." a woman called out, one that Baelon had spent more time with than any as he tried to help her and her children.

" While help is on the way, it'll take time to get here. For as much as we stretch out the rations, it'll not be enough." Baelon said and Dany was surprised there were no angered shouts. "I come from the North as some of you may know. It's a harsh place and there we know the truth of Winter far better than most. We've suffered through it at its worst, been forced to make the toughest choices, not for ourselves but for those younger than we. For our children and our children's children and though it pains me to say it, that's now a choice that each and every one of you above the age of forty namedays must soon make."

She looked around and the confused looks and noticed one or two of them seemed to have some inkling of what Baelon was about to say and then she, they and those nearest to the raised boxes, heard the choked words and how much they pained him to speak them.

" In the North, there is a tradition. When winter comes the oldest among us leave those younger and stronger than they and set off on a hunt. It's a hunt they know they'll not return from and one that in truth serves but one purpose. To remove a hungry mouth from the table so that those who remain can better share the little they have. We're not yet at that time, but I fear it's coming close." Baelon said to loud shouts.

" You would wish me to send my father away?"

" To deny my mother the comfort of my table?"

" Are you a monster?"

" Do you have a heart in that chest of yours?"

It was Drogon and not Rhaegal who roared out, her son doing as she bid while her other one mayhap did as Baelon asked of him.

" You think this pains me not?" Baelon asked as he wiped his eyes "You believe I don't think this damns my soul? I know of what I ask, believe me, and was this a thing I could face with my dragon or my sword. Was this a battle I could win by sheer will alone or one that I could snatch victory from even at the cost of mine own life, then I would do so gladly. I cannot make it so, no matter how much I will it. If the supplies do not arrive within the moon, then this is what must happen. I bid you look to the children, look to their suffering and ask yourself if there was not anything you'd do to see it was not so."

He'd shown a strength that day that she knew she needed to match and so she made her way to speak to him and tried not to let her emotions get the best of her when she saw him, Olenna, and Desmera speak and laugh together. It had been rare that she'd seen him laugh these past few days and he deserved it more than any. Smiling at Davos and Lady Marya, Dany's presence was soon noticed and Baelon moved from Desmera's side to take his place at her own. She felt the kiss on her cheek and he led her to her seat where they spent the next few hours going over all they'd put in place.

If the gods were good then Baelon's words would never come to pass. Yet both of them had seen in their lives that the gods were anything but good. They'd sent word to the Red Temples, knowing that their priests and priestess would relish the chance to offer aid and gain new followers. She'd flown to the Citadel and demanded their aid and together they'd mourned the losses of men and women they knew. Varys and Ellaria were both unaccounted for and had not been found among the many injured who were recovering and they were not the only losses they'd suffered.

When they were finished speaking, she bid Baelon join her on the cliffs and told Jorah that she wished to do this alone. The two of them walked in silence and Dany did her best to come up with the words that she truly didn't wish to speak but knew that she must. She was glad of the momentary respite that being with the dragons brought to her and after bidding them fly, she readied to tell Baelon what she'd decided.

"The wedding, Baelon, it cannot go ahead."

"Dany?"

"You… Desmera and.."

"Dany?" he asked moving to her and whether it was how he did so, the feel of him or something else, she found herself shaking her head and speaking words that she'd not thought she would.

"No, I'll not give you up, not even to her, I'll not, I'll not."

"Dany? what's going on?"

She looked at him through tear-filled eyes and smiled as he wiped them. His own expression was one of confusion and worry and she did her best to clear up one and remove the other. Her own worries soon became clearer and clearer as she told him of what Bran had truly said and who he'd said it about. Dany let the words almost flow from her and all her doubts, fears, and concerns were quickly exposed.

"That's why you've been so short with her." Baelon asked when she was finished.

"I've not been…." she began only for his finger to touch her lip and stop her from speaking.

"What have I told you about Bran, Dany?" he asked and she looked to see there was some mirth in his eyes, something which was slightly infectious.

"That he's a cunt."

"Aye." Baelon said with a chuckle "Remember what I asked you after he spoke to you? What I said that night?" he asked and she nodded "You're the only woman in my heart, Dany. The only woman I wish for or will ever take for mine own. So reject me if you wish, but do so knowing that I'll spend my days alone, but for a dragon and a wolf." Baelon said making her giggle.

"So you and Desmera?"

"Are friends because of her grandmother and the lady is soon to be wed to another, so you've naught to be jealous for."

"I'm not jealous." she said trying to sound affronted.

"And neither am I about Daario Naharis." he said raising his eyebrow and she felt something she'd not with him up to then, a different sort of kinship as she realized that just like her, he too truly felt as she did.

"You've naught t be jealous for." she said repeating his words.

"Good. Now since neither of us has a need to be jealous, I think it's time for us to return to the North, don't you feel it to be so?"

"Is all settled here?" she asked and he shook his head "But it will be and is in capable hands." she added and he leaned forward and kissed her.

"Aye, my love it will. Now we have a war to win and wedding to attend unless you've got some silly idea about running from me and forcing me to chase you down?" he asked challengingly.

His challenge was one that she accepted eagerly and her laughter soon rang around the cliffs as she ran as fast as she could and Baelon chased her as he had said he would. How he took her to the ground so softly, she knew not, but as he lay on top of her and she looked up at him, the look in his eyes was one that cleared up any doubt she had about their future.

"Caught you little dragon." Baelon said as he kissed her nose and then her cheek before moving to her lips.

"Aye, you did." she said, her words swallowed by his mouth as it closed on her own.

Crownlands, Riverlands, and the North 304 AC.

(Before, during and after the explosions)

Tyrion.

A dragon, he had a fucking dragon. How was it possible? True he'd seen Rhaegal's interest in him and it had been the Green Dragon who'd saved Jon Snow from the Mountain, but never had he believed that he'd actually mount said dragon. Yet he'd seen it with his own eyes, looked to the sky, and saw Rhaegal and Jon Snow as they flew over King's Landing, and the hatred he'd had for the bastard wolf, had only grown stronger because of it.

It had made him hurry back to the tavern he was staying in and he knew the sight of his stunted legs as they tried to move quickly had amused the wretches of the city. Though given what he'd planned to do, it would be Tyrion Lannister, The Imp, The Demon Monkey who'd have the last laugh and his one would be as loud as can be. Hurrying up the stairs once he'd arrived, he made his way to his room and moved to the loose floorboard where he'd hidden his plans. He'd taken no chances with the Spider around and he knew that each time he'd left his room, Varys or his little birds had no doubt searched it.

Taken out the large sheets of parchment, he looked them over and made sure that they were as he believed them to be. Each small element needed to be perfect for it to work and he'd take no chances that he'd fail, even more so now that the bastard was here. He'd not dared to dream he'd be so lucky. Instead, he had expected that Jon Snow would fall to Bronn and not him, and while he was annoyed that he'd not, it did save him a keep that he had no true way of gifting the man, something that brought a chuckle from him as he studied the plans.

"Call one of the servants, I think I'd like my luncheon now." he said to an odd look from his guard, though the man did as he had bid him.

It was still early and he'd not long finished breaking his fast, but there was much to do before he departed this city and he'd need a full stomach to see it done. Sure now of his plans, he rolled up the parchment and put it inside his shirt before taking his seat. The meal arrived a little while later and for the first time, he ate it without wine to wash it down. What he needed to do required him to be sober and steady and he could drink many drinks in celebration once it was done.

The next morning.

His head hurt, the light from the window forced his eyes closed and the warm body that lay beside him was one that he had no recollection of inviting into his bed. Rising to his feet, he broke wind nosily and chuckled as he made his way to the privy. It had been that rather than his departure from the bed that had woken the whore up and for some reason that amused him greatly. Once he was finished emptying his bladder, he made his way back to the room and paid the girl for her services.

Were he another man then he may have pondered on her fate. Tyrion though found he cared not, life, death, whatever it was that was to visit her that day was for the gods to worry about, not he. He ordered his meal to break his fast and ate as heartily as he had in moons. The blacked bacon was even crispier and the ale he used to wash it down, felt welcome on his palate. Once he was done, he moved to the floorboard and took out the parchment once more. With it in hand, he walked over to the fire and threw it into it, watching it almost gleefully as it burned and smiling at the thoughts of all that would burn this day.

"Have Artos found and brought to me." he said to his guard when he was sure the parchment was no more.

"At once, my lord."

It took longer than he wished for Artos to come to him, the guard looking as if he'd only just awakened and Tyrion for once not being bothered by the tardiness.

"Take this to Willem, make sure you pay him in full, Artos, for the task I've set him is an important one." he said handing Artos the small piece of parchment and the coin purse "And have Maroq see to the horses, I mean to depart before noon."

"To the West, my lord?" Artos asked and Tyrion shook his head.

"Not yet, Not yet."

Less than an hour later, he and his guards were riding out of King's Landing and he smirked at the little birds that took note of his departure. They and their master were in for a big surprise very soon and he found himself almost giddy at the prospect of who would perish in the flames. Varys, Ellaria Sand, Olenna Tyrell, the withered old cunt that she was, and Jon Snow, the bastard who'd cost him all that he'd deserved.

He wondered if a dragon could survive the flames that headed its way. Found himself contemplating it as they rode the Kingsroad and it was a thought that didn't leave his head until they stopped to water the horses. His mind tried its best to remember if the flames of dragons hurt the dragons themselves or if they were immune from them and from other fires. Much to his dismay, he found that he couldn't for the life of him remember what it had been that he'd read about them all those years earlier.

This and all other thoughts were gone a moment later. The sound was like nothing he'd ever heard before and he felt the ground shake beneath him. Artos and his guards moved to steady the horses, their own worries and fears put aside for now. Tyrion though found himself almost racing to find higher ground. His eyes looked to the road behind him and even this far from King's Landing, he found it to be a glorious sight as the world was lit up in a bright green flame and over and over. More so when those flames were joined by more.

"What the fuck?"

"Was that King's Landing?"

"What the fuck happened?"

"My Lord, My Lord we needs must get you to safety."

The voices washed over him as he stared at the green flames in the distance, images of faces being enveloped in their fiery embrace filling his head and warming his heart. Though he couldn't be certain just who the flames had taken, his mind brought those images to life and he reveled in the horror and pain on the faces he saw. Each of them had fallen, each of them had been burned away to naught and so Tyrion began to laugh and laugh loudly.

Over the next few days, there was rarely a time when a smile didn't come to his face. He listened as his men made their worries clear and he cared not. When he told them that it was even more imperative they headed North, the arguments had been few and far between and he'd much enjoyed his time in the various brothels and taverns they'd stopped off in. For the first time since before the War of the Five Kings had begun, he felt as he used to feel. The journey North felt like a jaunt, a pleasure ride, and it brought back memories of those he'd used to go on all those years earlier.

There was not a thing that he would deny himself when he'd traveled as the son of Tywin Lannister. His name, his father's gold, all of it combined to make him a most welcome guest wherever he decided to lay his head. While it was somewhat different now, he still had a large amount of coin and the realm had suffered much during the wars that ravaged it. Whores were most happy with his business and his men enjoyed themselves in this regard as much as he. As he was doing now with the girl who wore the silver-haired wig and who was at present doing her best to make his member rise once more.

"My sweet little dragon, a man needs rest." he said as he reached over to grab the wine jug.

"My lion won't rise for me?" the girl pouted.

"In time, my dragon, in time."

His words were eventually proved true and the girl more than earned her coin. They had left the Crownlands and were somewhere in the Riverlands. Word of the destruction of King's Landing had not yet made it here and he enjoyed the looks on people's faces when his guards told the tales. He'd learned much of the state of the Riverlands and had been surprised that Edmure Tully was so well thought of by those he spoke to. The Lord of Riverrun had proved himself no military man and yet the Smallfolk spoke more fondly of him than they ever did his father, or so Tyrion would wager.

The actions he'd taken during the War of the Five Kings may have cost him his house and his uncle, but it had earned him favor with those he ruled over. As had his actions since then. Tyrion finding out that he'd had seen that their bellies were as full as he could make them, just as he had tried to do during the war as one innkeeper had told him fondly. Now the Lord was off in the North and they worried for his return. Though Tyrion's own worries about Edmure Tully were much more in regards to himself.

It had been Jaime who'd held him hostage and forced him to yield Riverrun and his father who had seen the Riverlands put to sword and flame. So he'd not be best pleased to see him when he arrived in the North and in that he'd not be alone. Dorne, the West, the Reach, and the Northmen themselves would be no friends of his, and yet it changed naught. His path was set, the road he had to travel, one he had no choice but continue upon. What he wished for and what he desired the most demanded it of him and as he left yet another tavern behind, he felt closer than ever to get what he deserved.

A few weeks later.

Seeing the Twins bereft of male Freys had been a shock to his system. As had the welcome he'd been given there, as more than one of them had tried to tempt him to their bed before he'd left and his guards had been far more willing than he. Not even the fact that Roslin was now Lady of Riverrun had seen the Freys recover their position. They had coin, armed men to guard them, but no fathers, brothers, nephews, or cousins to chart their future and for now at least, it seemed as if the Twins was like a rudderless ship, adrift and with land far from sight.

Traveling through the Riverlands had proved far more taxing than it had at first seemed. Their welcomes grew less friendly the deeper into those lands they journeyed. His men had covered their armor and tried not to be seen as Lannister men, but because of him that was easier said than done. The Imp of Casterly Rock was too well known and unlike any other dwarf, his very baring marked him out as who he truly was. It had led to far too many scuffles and at least one death and so upon reaching one of the larger villages, he'd sent Artos to gather as many supplies as could be bought and his nights in taverns and brothels were no more.

Rather than a warm mouth or even warmer cunt to spend in, it had been his hand that he'd sought his pleasure from. His nights filled with thoughts of what he'd do to Daenerys Targaryen when he finally showed her his true face and proved to be just as pleasurable as those he'd spent with someone sharing his bed. Not even the cold as they drew closer to the North itself was enough to stop the fire that burned deep in his heart. Vengeance, Justice, Retribution, and Desire were his companions as they followed the Kingsroad and rode into the Neck.

"Moat Cailin, my lord." Artos called out taking him from his daydream of silver hair, violet eyes, and the tears that fell from them.

"We'll shelter there for the night and rest the horses." he said to a relived nod from the weary guard and he hoped they'd be made somewhat welcome by whoever garrisoned the keep.

They were and they were not at the same time. The Northmen were displeased by his presence and only that he named himself as something he was not or they'd have sent them on their way. Tyrion told them that he represented the Queen and had news of great import to share with her and the stubborn ugly Northman finally agreed they could stay the night and no more. The food they were given was pitiful, though the stew was at least warm if not full of much goodness. Their rooms were a little better, though at least they had left them a warm fire burning which meant they'd not die of cold in their sleep.

His dreams were once again his respite. Pain suffering and sorrow were what they were full of as he spoke of Jon Snow's death to Daenerys and named his sister and Euron Greyjoy as the architects of that death. He almost cried out in joy as she crumbled before him and believed that he may have very well done so when she begged him for his help. Help that he'd give her until the timing was right to see her own fall come to pass. At what point his hand found his hard cock, he knew not, but when he woke the next morning it was to find his seed had spilled over his hand during the night. The feel of it was not something he welcomed, nor was the coldness of the water he was forced to wash it in.

They were offered an even more pitiful meal to break their fast and so after leaving the Moat behind them and entering into the North proper, Tyrion bid his men stop and they delved into their own supplies. This meal was more to his liking and filing his and his men's bellies enough to drive them forward. How long it would take him to reach Winterfell he wasn't sure. The last time he'd made such a journey it had taken weeks, but there was no wheelhouse to slow him down this time. Though that meant no King and so no overabundance of wine and good food either. Still one did what one must when in search of what one wished for.

"Caw, Caw." the raven called out and Tyrion smiled at it as he rode past the tree. For ravens were the harbingers of bad tidings and upon their dark wings they oft brought dark words, soon enough Tyrion would act a raven of sorts and his words would be dark ones indeed.

Winterfell, 304 AC.

Rickon Stark.

He had felt the weight of his crown a lot in the last few moons, his latest decisions regarding the North, justice, and family had made him wary of the responsibilities. Yet as he was about to knock on the Queen's door, he thought that he would not have it another way.

Had he shirked his responsibilities when he'd felt his family tearing itself apart like some would have wished him to do, then he wouldn't have been able to protect them from all the things that were happening.

What Jon had told him before, about them having enemies and how important it was for them to be a real pack, to support and trust each other, Rickon had felt the truth of it when Daenerys and her army had come to Winterfell. There were too many people who he didn't trust, starting with the one who had almost killed him and Bran all those years earlier.

Theon had tried to make amends to him and was it not for Sansa and Daenerys, then he would have sent Arya to kill him without any remorse. He didn't care that his father's former ward was a broken man. Nor that he'd been tortured by Ramsay Bolton and that he'd helped Sansa flee to the Wall and so he had made it clear that he would not forgive the man for what he'd done to his household and what he'd inflicted upon the miller's sons. The only thing he could do to vent out his frustrations was to beat him every day during spars, which he did most eagerly.

He didn't trust Jaime Lannister either. He knew that the man was partly responsible for the death of his father, and this time it had been Ghost and Melisandre who had stayed his hand. The Kingslayer was apparently loyal to Jon, Rickon had felt it when sharing the Direwolf's body, so he let him be for the moment. Knowing full well that Arya was watching him closely too.

His uncle Edmure was another one he had trouble with. Not only because of the way he was constantly seeking to bond with him, which seemed terribly forced, especially considering the man hadn't cared a bit for him when he was in the South, but also his attitude whenever Jon was mentioned. He clearly hated him and any enemy of Rickon's brother was his enemy too.

The most unnerving was of course his own brother. Why Bran had felt a duty to try breaking the pack, he didn't know, but Rickon was sure he wasn't saying the truth when he said it was to strengthen their bonds. They could have forgone all the drama surrounding Littlefinger's presence and done without the trauma surrounding Jon's parentage. They could have used another way to bring Sansa to the fold other than having her abducted and almost raped, contrary to Bran's words on the matter.

" You had to feel the fear of losing her, Arya and Jon too, so you could all realize how much you cared for her."

He didn't buy it, nor did he the nonsense Bran had said about Jon and Dany. Through Ghost, he could feel the real attachment the woman had for his brother, and her longing for him as he'd left with Davos was almost as strong as his. While they didn't spend a lot of time together, he could see all Jon had said about her caring for her people and wanting a true place in their family was true. That she had believed him fully and hadn't hesitated to fly to Jon even when the sun had set was another testament to her feelings for his brother.

They had received the raven two days after and Rickon had seen Missandei's suspicions change into deep respect. She had sought him out afterward and asked to learn more about his powers. Rickon gave her a book about the legends of the North, not wanting to speak too much about what he could or could not do since he didn't want Bran to know either.

What bothered him the most was that his dreams were back, and when he'd heard Jon's distress through Ghost, he had realized that the last one he had was about King's Landing.

A red castle was swept over by a green wave, leaving nothing in its wake but a flow of dead bodies while the dragons above it cried in despair. It was a sennight later, when Jon came back with Dany, both looking worse for wear, that he figured out that it was not a simple dream.

"We bear tragic news, my Lords, my Ladies." Jon started in the solar, where their sisters attended the meeting he had set with the representatives of the other kingdoms. "King's Landing is no more."

Shouts of shock, surprise, and distress rose in the room, none so loud as Sarella Martell's and her sister's.

"What do you mean, King's Landing is no more?" the Princess of Dorne said shakily. "What happened."

"A series of explosions. Wildfire explosions." Daenerys said as all stares turned to a paling Jaime Lannister.

"What about the people? My goodaunt… Lady Olenna…" Lord Rowan started, still in shock.

"She and Lady Desmera were with me when it happened. They are safe on Dragonstone and are supervising the search for other survivors and helping those who we were lucky enough to get to safety." Jon said and the lord let out a sigh of relief.

"Our mother? Have you…" Tyene started, only to cry out when both Jon and Daenerys shook their heads.

"The search is not over, Tyene." Daenerys said softly. "We cannot lose hope for now. We have mobilized all the abled people from neighboring keeps, as well as the Citadel and the rest of our forces who were in Dragonstone to help find the survivors, provide food and shelter to those in need."

"We need to get back there. We need to -"

"No." this time the Queen's voice was firm and uncompromising.

"I will not stay here while my mother -"

"I understand your frustration and your desire to seek your mother and I will not prevent you from going. However, your army will stay here, Princess Sarella." Daenerys stated.

"We would have stayed to help in the South if it hadn't been for the dragons pressing us to go North." Jon said and Rickon tensed at his words.

"The nights are becoming longer than the days, even in the south." Lord Davos added.

"While the temperatures have dropped and the Maester are all in agreement that Winter is here, this is not an occurrence they are familiar with in these parts of the lands." Dany pointed out.

"Which means the Long Night is about to fall upon us." Davos said.

"I don't bloody care about your fucking Long Night. Not while my mother could be dead in King's Landing!" Sarella spat and Rickon felt for her.

"We all care for Lady Ellaria, Princess." Jon said sadly. "I saw her the day before the explosion and we finally had a true conversation about family. There is none more than I who sought her and who feel her loss. But we looked for her everywhere during our time there, we've sent men to seek her and others out. It pains me to feel the lack of hope I do for her, yet feel it I do."

"She should be in the Red Keep or in Chattaya's, she…" looking at the dismayed faces of his brother, Rickon deduced that the Red Keep had fallen as it did in his dreams. "Please… Please let me go to her…" Tyene begged with tears in her eyes.

"As Queen Daenerys said, we will not prevent you from leaving. We understand how you feel and Lady Olenna's utmost priority is to find Lady Ellaria as well as Lord Varys, who too has been unaccounted for."

"Should you need any assistance, you will find accommodations to see you transported there."

"I… Thank you, Your Graces." Tyene whispered.

"What of Cersei? We all know she's the one behind this. Wildfire is her solution to solve every problem she gets. First at Blackwater Bay, then at the Sept of Baelor, and now…" Daven Lannister said bluntly, putting the attention back on his cousin Jaime who answered in kind.

"Cersei wants to be Queen. She would not -"

"She would not what? Raze the city she'd lost to the ground instead of leaving it to her enemies?" Sansa scoffed.

"We need to apprehend her before she hurts more people." Edmure said.

"Our spy network is now in disarray. We do not know where she is." Dany said and this time, Rickon felt his brother's knowing gaze on him.

"I will use mine to help." he said without flinching.

"Thank you, brother."

"What will happen to her when you will find her?" Jaime Lannister asked, nervously.

"She dies." Jon replied, his fury and hatred clear in his voice.

The meeting had all but ended at that point, those who had lost someone or who had been unable to offer anything to help, leaving the rest of them behind. Talk then had turned to the wedding, Jon clearly fearing that given all that happened and when the full truth of it was known to others, there were some who would see them being wed as selfish or worse. it had been his sisters, Missandei and Melisandre, and most of all Wylla who'd soon removed those thoughts.

"It needed to happen, had to happen." Wylla had said, and when he too added his own thought, the matter was settled.

It was good that it was, as the wedding was much needed. Not just by Jon and Danerys, but by them all. people needed a symbol of hope and to simply blow off some steam. Even those who'd felt lost after the meeting had welcomed seeing their new king and queen be joined and other than Sarella and Tyene, all had attended and seemed pleased to be there. For him, it was seeing the sheer joy on Jon's face that made it all worthwhile. All the doubts he held about the future and what it would mean for him and his brother, were forgotten when looking upon Jon's face.

Reality was soon to catch up to them, though, and the little respite they had felt was soon forgotten when the accursed raven arrived that night. Seeing Bran's face at that moment filled Rickon with anger. Of course, he'd known about all that would happen, and Rickon felt he'd been played once more, for Bran would have told them exactly what was about to happen should he feel the need to. Yet he had stayed silent, not because they had told him to, not because they'd dismissed him, but because he wanted them to. He wanted that moment to happen, his smug face saying 'I told you so' was proof enough for Rickon when he went to see his brother after the meeting he'd held.

"Are you ready to listen to me now?" Bran asked, failing to hide his smirk.

"You had a lot of time to talk to me, Sansa, and Arya about what would happen."

"You shut me out every time I -"

"Every time you tried to use another to play your fucking games, we did. When we were alone with you, not once had you opened your mouth to say anything."

"You do not trust me. Why should I lose my breath to warn you when you do not trust me?"

"Have you found a way to defeat the Night King?"

"No."

"Do you know what is his goal?"

"To get rid of all life on Westeros."

"Why is he attacking now?"

"Because the Wall has lost its magic. The dragon had seen to it."

"What the fuck do you mean by that?" Rickon yelled, thinking he was talking about Jon.

"Viserion had attacked the Wall when the Night King had tried to corrupt him."

"So it was the Night King?" he insisted, not convinced.

"Who else would it be?" Bran answered and for some reason, his answer didn't ring true to Rickon.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

"Will you uphold your vow?" Bran asked, making Rickon tense. "When the time will come to protect our family, will you do it?"

"I made a vow in front of the Old Gods." was all the young man would answer.

"You did. A binding vow I only heard twice in my life. One sworn by Jojen and Meera Reed, in the common tongue, and one made by me to the Old Gods, in the Old Tongue, as you did to me. I am truly sorry for you, brother."

"Why?" Rickon said, frowning.

"I know what it entails to be made to serve the Old Gods. The power they give you is enticing and you feel you can do everything, but it is not the truth. I agreed to be the Three-Eyed Raven because I thought I could help defeat the Night King, yet nothing I had learned so far has helped. I am plagued with visions of the future nobody wants to hear me out about, not even my own family. I am all alone, hated by all, and for what?"

Rickon's heart clenched as Bran's words reminded him of a time when they were there for each other. A time when they had only each other to rely upon, and when Bran would play his role of older brother to protect him to the best of his abilities.

"I'm sorry, Bran. I truly am."

"I wish you wouldn't take this path, but you never listen. I just hope you'll find it was worth it, for I do not. This is a curse, Rickon. Not a blessing. A curse."

For the first time since they reunited, Rickon felt his brother was truly sincere with him. Gone was the pretense of being emotionless, of controlling his demeanor. The sadness and the raw pain in his voice made Rickon shudder. Maybe Meera was right. Mayhaps the Old Bran, the one he had loved and cared about, was still there, and mayhaps like Sansa he needed something to happen to him to realize he was messing things up with the rest of the pack.

"One day, you'll have to tell me what they've done to you. For now, we should focus on defeating the Night King."

"Aye. That is the only thing that matters." Bran agreed before Rickon left the room.

Rickon didn't sleep that night. He watched with a small smile as Brienne all but dragged a worried Tormund to her chambers, as Missandei did the same with Grey Worm, while Alys, Ned, and Gilliane Snow invited him to a drinking contest. He let them win, as he needed to be sober for the upcoming discussion with Jon.

He waited for his brother to feel his presence at the door the next morn and was relieved to see Jon come to it dressed already.

"Brother? Is it time already for the other wedding? I had thought…" the blinding smile on Jon's face disappeared as he saw Rickon's contrite one.

"We received a raven during your wedding night. The dead have started attacking the Wall. Castle Black calls for help." Rickon said and despite the sigh that came from his brother, the resolve that came to Jon's face soon after, quickly strengthened his own.