Game of Thrones Season 8 Chapter 17

King's Landing – Tyrion

The letter arrived in the morning. After reading it, the Queen sent Bronn to his rooms to give him the news. Tyrion saw the raven scroll in Bronn's hands and knew what had happened from the look on Bronn's face. He felt the pinpricks of tears forming before he spoke.

"How?" he managed to ask before Bronn even said a word.

"Poison," Bronn said in a grim tone. "Both of them. Together."

Tyrion nodded and held out his small hand. Bronn gave him the letter. As Tyrion read Bronn came into the room, went straight to the table and poured two cups of wine.

The letter was from Lord Anders Yronwood of Dorne. Another one had arrived the night before, saying he had arrested Cersei, had taken over Storm's End, had the Golden Company on his side, and had pledged Dorne's loyalty to Daenerys.

When they read the news with Jon Snow and Varys in the Queen's quarters, she did not gloat, or smile, or jump for joy. She only sighed and slumped back down in her chair. "It is over, at last."

"Thank the gods," Jon had said. "Now we can have peace."

But Tyrion only had one thought. "What does it say about my brother, Your Grace?"

"Not a word," she told him. "If Cersei is under arrest I am sure he played some role in it."

"I suppose we must have a trial for her." Jon said.

"Maybe not," the Queen said, with a look to Varys, and by that look Tyrion knew what she had done, had told Varys to do.

Varys looked to him. "A trial would have only one outcome. I am sure we all agree we should spare the realm the onerous task. If Lord Anders is smart, he will take care of matters."

"Or Jaime already has," Tyrion had said, his voice hardly a whisper, for he knew not what had become of his brother.

And now Tyrion knew Jaime had done what they all wanted him to do…to both of them.

Your Grace, the traitor Cersei Lannister is dead, as is her brother Ser Jaime. He gave her poison unawares and for reasons of his own he also took it. Before he died he told us about the assassins. We wrote letters to Braavos and affixed her sigil to them. Two ships have set sail. My army is already returning home. The Golden Company is preparing to sail east, and the Lannister army is also returning home. They are taking the remains with them to place them in the crypts of Casterly Rock.

His face was wet and when Bronn passed him the wine he gulped it down. "Sorry," the sellsword said. "He was a good lad. For all that it is worth I think he was trying to regain some of the honor he had lost."

"Yes, he was, but they wouldn't let him."

They were silent for a moment and then Tyrion poured some more wine. "Bronn…as it appears it is no longer necessary to guard Jon Snow, I believe it is time we renewed our friendship."

"Never thought we ended it."

"No, of course not. I need you to keep me in this room today, no matter what I say or do. If I see her…or Varys…I might do something stupid."

"Her? The Queen?"

"Yes. She gave him no choice. He killed her father, monster that he was, so she had to do what she had to do. Still…if I see her when drunk I may do something foolish.'

"As you command."

And so they drank, and told stories, and wept for lost friends and family. When a knock came to the door, a messenger from the Queen asking Tyrion to see her, Bronn told him to fuck off and to make sure everyone else got the message.

The next morning he awoke, felt queasy and rushed to his privy pot to empty his stomach. After a while he felt better, wiped his face, stood and on unsteady legs found his table, where the mess of a late dinner still remained. Then he heard the snoring and saw Bronn laid out on a divan that was too short for his height.

There was ale and wine on the table and he drank some of the ale, for it would help steady him and settle his stomach. He gnawed on a piece of stale bread and then washed his face with cold water in a basin. The slashing of water must have awoken Bronn.

"All right?" he asked.

"Better," Tyrion said. "You?"

"Fit as a fiddle and ready for more." He was already pouring himself a cup of wine.

"No…we have things to do."

"Aye? And what would that be? The wars are over."

"We are going home. To Casterly Rock, to say goodbye to Jaime and…her."

"Sounds fine. What will you tell the other her?"

"That I need time to attend to affairs in the west. I am Lord of Casterly Rock after all."

"And Hand to the Queen. Can you be both?"

"Why not? My father was for twenty some years. It is time I took my proper seat."

"Good enough. I'll send someone to pack your bags. If we're going, let's go before any more snow falls."

His hand was already on the door handle. "Bronn…thank you…for everything."

"It's not thanks I want, but I will take them as well."

Tyrion had to grin. "You will be paid…as promised. I am sure I can find a nice place for you."

"The Queen promised me a mountain of gold and two castles."

"That might be difficult as she has neither. At least not the gold."

Bronn snorted. "Fuck it. Find me a small keep, some land, a big woman, some smallfolk to order about, and maybe a herd or two of sheep or cows."

"And gold, as much as I can spare. You've earned it."

"That I have." The door was opened and then Bronn paused again. "Pod should have been here too."

"Him and many more," Tyrion replied heavily, feeling the loss of Pod almost as keenly as his brother.

Bronn left and it wasn't long before someone else came knocking, Varys.

"I see you have decided to accept visitors," the spymaster said after Tyrion let him in. "The Queen is quite worried."

"I will see her in good time. Is there anything I can do for you, Lord Varys?"

"So, we are being formal?"

"Yes, we are."

"Very well. I have come to ask what blame you will give me and the Queen in your siblings' deaths."

"Cersei I care not for, as I am sure you well know," Tyrion said. "As for Jaime, I will not blame anyone. He decided to end it his way on his terms, and so be it. He made his bed years ago when he killed her father and pushed the Stark boy."

"So, that much is true."

"It is. But I cannot forget who gave him the poison. So, you and I shall not be friends."

"Oh, dear. And here I thought we were already friends," Varys replied.

"We were…but not anymore. I thank you for what you have done for me, my escape, my time in the east, the help you have given us all. But Jaime…you gave him an option he might not have taken if it was not available. So…there it is."

The spymaster took it in stride. "As you wish."

"Then there is nothing to discuss. You may tell the Queen I will see her shortly."

Varys nodded and left him. Soon after two serving girls came and began to pack his things. Tyrion washed some more, then changed his clothing and went to see the Queen. As he walked through the castle he noticed a buzz of excitement in the air. People were cheery, happy, laughing, and smiling. No bells had rung yet, maybe because there were so few left, but it seemed the news had spread…the wars were over.

He found her in her rooms, at breakfast, with her guards at her sides and Jon Snow at her table.

"Ah, the happy couple," Tyrion said as he sat opposite the Queen.

Jon blanched and the Queen gave Tyrion a steady look. "That is still a state secret, my lord."

"Well, I am sure it won't be for long. So when is the wedding?"

Jon almost choked on his food. "How much does he know?" he asked Daenerys.

"Everything," she said with a sigh.

"I see," Jon said.

"And if I know then Varys surely does," Tyrion said. "Soon others will as well. As Hand my advice will be to announce the nuptials as soon as possible."

"I quite agree," the Queen said. "Tomorrow. You can…"

"I won't be here…Your Grace."

That took her aback. "Oh. Where will you be going?"

"Home…to bury my siblings and settle my affairs."

"Of course," she said. "But you will return?"

"Yes. When, I do not know."

"Then we will postpone the wedding."

Jon spoke up. "I don't think that would be a good idea. Already…ah, I mean, you are….um…"

"Showing," Tyrion said to save him from his awkwardness. "When that news gets out, then the wedding must swiftly follow. Better if it happened first."

"Yes," she said. "But I wanted you here."

"It cannot be helped."

"Can't you postpone for a day or two?" Jon asked him.

"The Lannister army is already heading west. I must go."

The Queen looked at him, sighed and nodded. "Very well. But first arrange for the news to be sent out to all corners of the realm."

"What shall I say?" Tyrion asked.

"The wars are done, your sister is dead, and I shall wed," the Queen told him.

He stood, dipped his head. "As you command, Your Grace."

As he reached the door she stopped him. "I am sorry for your brother."

He turned, looked at her, had many sharp replies on his tongue, but said nothing, merely dipped his head and left them. You wanted him dead, he thought, and never had any intention of letting him live elsewhere. And then and there Tyrion Lannister decided to resign as Hand to the Queen, as soon as all was settled, at home and in the realm.

The letters were written with the help of some maesters, and sent out by riders and by ravens, those few that were left after all the battles. He was sure the news would get out, as it always did, somehow, some way.

Sam Tarly was one who helped him. "So, what plans for the future?" Tyrion asked him when the last raven was sent aloft. "A return to the Night's Watch?"

"In time, if it is ever reborn. But first Winterfell," Sam said. "I've had a letter from Sansa Stark. She asked me to be maester for her family."

"Yet you are not yet a maester, are you?"

"No. But the Citadel agrees I have done enough to continue training on my own. In the future I will go there to be examined for my chain."

"Once you become a full maester you cannot be a companion to Gilly, can you?"

Sam smiled a bit. "Well, maybe in the far future I will sit for my exams."

Tyrion liked that answer. "Good. But I would have thought the Queen would offer you a post here when you finish."

"She has."

"And you refused, haven't you?'

He nodded, and a sadness came over him. "I cannot serve her anymore. Not after what she did."

"I understand completely. Then I wish you luck, Sam Tarly, and may we meet someday in the future when the realm is better for all."

He and Bronn and an escort of twenty men with five mule drawn supply wagons left the city by the noon hour. As they exited by the main western gate Tyrion did not even turn about to see the city he had once cherished and now doubted if he ever wanted to see it again.

Ten cold and snowy days it took them to reach Casterly Rock, arriving the day after his brother and sister had returned home to their final resting place. He did not even bother to see Cersei but he did see Jaime, and later regretted it. The Silent Sisters were already preparing him for his final resting place. He was cold, lifeless, his eyes already sewn shut and now with painted stones on them. He was dressed in his finest armor and his sword was on his body with his real hand and the golden one gripping it.

"Good-bye," he said, and then he left before he broke down. They were buried in the crypts the next day. Tyrion ordered that no mention of Cersei being Queen be inscribed on her tomb. All it said was 'Cersei, daughter of Tywin and Joanna, wife of King Robert Baratheon, mother of Kings Joffrey and Tommen Baratheon.'

Jaime's tomb said a bit less. 'Jaime, son of Tywin and Joanna, knight, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, beloved brother.'

Months went by and the winter deepened. He kept busy establishing control over the west, pulling those who had once been enemies of the Queen into his orbit of power. He found a small but nice keep for Bronn, its owner dead in the wars, and gave him all he had promised. Bronn married the daughter of a dead knight, whose family was happy to make the match when they found he was a close companion of Tyrion's.

The Queen and Jon Snow married as well, and the realm rejoiced, for peace had come, and the throne was stable once more. She wrote often, asking when he would return, that she needed him, with so many problems yet to be solved, but he begged off, the snows keeping the mountain passes blocked between his home and the capital. Finally, one day Jon Snow appeared on Rhaegal.

"You know why I am here," he said.

"I suppose I have no excuses now."

"Tyrion…she thinks you blame her for Jaime."

"I do."

He looked troubled. "He killed her father."

"Yes, that is what they will always say of him, even in death. Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer. Killed a monster, someone who needed killing, same as my sister. No one will ever say how he ended the wars, two of them. Only that he betrayed his King and murdered his sister. Already they whisper of it. Kinslayer they will add to his name. Well, I know what he did. I suppose that will have to do. Let us go. I must look into her eyes when I resign."

That shook him. "Resign?"

"Yes. I am done with it all. Let's go."

The capital looked better than before, the walls mostly repaired, and the Red Keep returning to its former shape, if not yet its glory.

They found her with her small council. It was a strange group, mostly of men who had done things that should have precluded them from serving on such a grand council. Ser Jorah Mormont, as master of laws, a man who had once committed crimes that forced him to flee from Ned Stark's blade. Ser Davos Seaworth, master of ships, once a smuggler bar none. The two Greyjoy siblings were his main naval commanders, a pair who were more akin to pirates than past commanders of the royal fleet.

Then there was Lord Edmure Tully, master of coin, a man in his youth who had frivolously spent his father's money and who later betrayed his own uncle. And Varys, of course, master of whisperers, who had done everything he could to murder his Queen when she was just a girl. That was a bit unfair, for he had also done everything he could to save her. There was as yet no Grand Maester. Sam Tarly had served as a temporary one, but Tyrion knew he would never again serve the woman who had killed his father and brother. And there was also no Lord Commander of the Queensguard, as there wasn't as yet any Queensguard. She still relied on her Dothraki and Unsullied survivors, men who would die for her and did not care for politics or family connections. And of course she had Jon Snow and his sword, and Tyrion knew he hardly left her side, except to fetch reluctant servants like himself to come when she called.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him walk into the room with Jon by his side. Or maybe the look was for Jon. "Leave us," she commanded, and the rest stood, dipped their heads and soon left, all except Jon and two guards. They sat, him opposite her and Jon by her side. Her belly was swelling and soon she would provide an heir for the throne.

"You are well, I trust?" she asked him.

"Well as can be, Your Grace."

"I need you here, my lord. You have grieved enough."

"I don't suppose I shall ever grieve enough."

"We have all lost ones we love," Jon said. "But it is time to move on."

Tyrion had nothing to say to that. It was true, but he didn't want to move on.

"I know you blame me," she said.

"To assign blame for all that happened would be an exercise in futility. Yet you never had any intention of letting him go, did you?"

"Once you said I could not let him live and rule these lands."

"I did. I regret it now. You are the Queen, he killed your father, and you did what you had to do. Now I must as well. I find I am reluctant to resume my post."

That did not surprise her. "I see. Well, I would not want anyone to serve who was reluctant. I only ask you give me time to find a successor and for you to teach him all you know."

"In that case, I would recommend Ser Davos."

She had a protest on her lips and in her eyes but Jon spoke first. He and Tyrion had already planned all this on the ride here.

"Agreed," Jon said. "He is the only one with experience, first with Stannis, then with myself."

Daenerys looked from one to the other. "Well, I see that has already been decided. I shall speak to him on the morrow."

"And I will stay until things are better," Tyrion promised and she was glad for that much.

Tyrion stayed a moon's turn, and when he knew Davos was no fool, and the realm was righting itself, he decided it was time to go. Daenerys made him promise he would return if she ever needed him and he reluctantly agreed. Before he made his goodbyes he saw Varys one last time. They met in Tyrion's rooms and after a glass of fine wine, Tyrion broached the subject.

"I need your help."

"How may I be of service, my lord?"

He thought Varys would be indifferent to him, after all that had happened, but the spymaster seemed uncaring about the harsh words Tyrion had once said to him.

"I need to find someone."

"Who?"

"A girl."

"The realm has many."

"This girl was once my wife."

"Ah, Tysha."

"Gods."

"Why are you surprised, my lord? I am what I am, and knowledge is my leverage in this world. Tysha, a girl of the west, an orphaned daughter of a wheelwright, whom you and your brother came upon on a road where she was being attacked. You saved her, and later you wed. Sadly, it turned out she was not a woman of virtue, but one your brother paid so you could have your first taste of the female form."

"How do you know all these details?" Tyrion asked with a hint of anger for he already knew who had told him, for Tyrion had only ever told the story to two people.

"You told Bronn and Shae one night when drunk. Shae told me."

"I see. Did she tell you it all?"

"Oh, I already knew the rest, years ago, when it happened. That part of the story was repeated in high circles. Your father had the marriage annulled, and let a barracks full of soldiers rape her before your eyes."

The memory was painful enough without being put into words and his face must have showed it. "I'm sorry," Varys said. "Your father was not well loved, and always people supplied me with gossip about his failures. After he left Aerys' service the Mad King was always eager for such tales."

"And of course I was the biggest failure."

"Not of late."

"Thank you. As for Tysha, do you know anything about her?"

"No. But I can find out."

"Please."

"I do not think this is wise, my lord."

"Because?"

"You let your father's men rape her while you watched. Despite her profession, I sense there was some hint of love in your relationship."

"There was, from me."

"And perhaps her as well?"

"Perhaps," Tyrion admitted, though it was so long ago and their time together so brief he could never be sure of what was true and what were lies.

"Even so, do you think if she still lives she will be grateful to see you?"

"No, I suppose not. But I must try. She was the only person who I ever truly loved." Shae came to mind as well but after all that had happened with her he could not bring himself to believe he had loved her.

"Then I shall try as well," Varys said.

Varys stood and went to the door. Before he got there Tyrion had one more memory of that night he told the story. "You know, Bronn said he would have killed the man who had let all those soldiers rape a woman I loved."

"Was that what made you fire the crossbow that night? The memory of her?"

"That and so much more."

Two months later a visitor came to Casterly Rock, a young man of about twenty years of age. He was dark of hair and had green eyes, average height and strong looking. He appeared at the gates and demanded to see Tyrion and was rebuffed. Finally he made such a fuss the captain of the guards sent word to his lord.

"Yes, yes, what is it?" Tyrion said after he appeared at the gates. A cold winter wind was blowing off the western sea, making the nearby banners and flags flutter nosily.

The man stared at him intently. "You are Tyrion Lannister?"

"Lord Tyrion Lannister," snapped the captain of the guard, who looked ready to throw him in a dungeon.

Tyrion gave the captain a look and a shake of his head and turned back to the young man. "Yes, I am Tyrion Lannister. I am sure you have heard I am some monster with horns and a tail. I assure you apart from my short stature I am every bit of man as you are. May I have you name and your purpose here?"

"My name is Cyrus…my lord. I have a letter from a man who called himself Lord Varys. He said to give it to you."

"Really? What does it say?"

The young man looked embarrassed. "I did not open it. And…and I can't read," he admitted.

"Oh. Well, let us go inside where it is warmer and get to the bottom of all this."

The captain checked the man for weapons, and he had none. Even so two guards escorted them to a nearby room where there was a small table and several chairs. After they sat Tyrion dismissed the guards and Cyrus produced the letter. Before he opened Tyrion wanted to know what had happened.

"How did you meet Lord Varys?" he asked.

"He came to my village."

"Where do you live?"

"Not far from here, my lord. On the road to the east."

"Do you know why Varys was in your village?"

"People said he was asking many questions."

"About?"

"My mother."

Tyrion felt a small shock go through him and he quickly opened the letter, read, and felt his world turn upside down.

Greetings, my lord. The quest you gave me before you left King's Landing has borne fruit. Sadly not all the news is good. I found the village where Tysha was from. And it seems that your father and brother told you a monstrous lie all those years ago. She was what she claimed to be, a wheelwright's daughter, not a whore.

As he read these terrible words he felt tears forming in his eyes.

She was thrown out of Casterly Rock, made her way home and nine months later had a child, a son, who now delivers this news to you.

Now his face was wet and he felt the young man's eyes on him but Cyrus said nothing.

Though you will never be certain, the chance of him being your son is great, for you spent two weeks with her before the barracks room event. It is highly possibly she was with child before that sad tale. And now I have an even sadder tale to tell. Tysha died some five years ago, of consumption of the lungs. I am sorry to be the one to tell you all this, but you did ask. Yours faithfully, Varys.

Tyrion looked up and then wiped his eyes. "My lord?" Cyrus asked. "What is it?"

"Your mother…tell me about her? What was her name?"

"Tysha. She died five years ago."

"Yes, so the letter says. And your father?"

"I never knew my father. I'm a bastard. Cyrus Hill they call me."

"What did you mother ever tell you about your father?"

"Nothing. She would not talk of him. But she always looked sad when I asked."

Tyrion nodded and felt his heart clench, for all that he had lost. And Jaime, my brother, why did you never tell me? And in the same moment he knew why. Because Tyrion could never have forgiven him if the truth were known. Why the lie, well, that was obvious. Tyrion had married beneath his station, a common girl, married without consent, someone who could not advance his father's house, someone who would be the cause of scorn and laughter throughout the realm. So they called her a whore…and I believed them. Her silenced in the barracks made him believe it. But he also recalled her hurt, accusing eyes. Why had she kept silent? Maybe they told her worse would come if she did not do as she was told….maybe she thought he was in on it, a cruel joke the rich and mighty played on those beneath them in life.

"My lord? What is it all about?" Cyrus asked.

Tyrion forced himself to smile, stood and looked at the man. He had Tysha's black hair and Tyrion's green Lannister eyes. Yes, just maybe he is mine. Well, time would tell. "Come, young Cyrus. You and I have much to discuss. I find I talk better when I drink wine. Do you enjoy the grape?"

"I have had few chances to try it, my lord."

"That will have to change. If you are to stay here."

"Stay here? I can't. My lord."

"And why not?"

"My wife and children await me."

Gods. "Wife and…how many children?"

"Two. A boy and a girl."

"Well, we shall have to send word for them to come here as well."

"Please, my lord, what's it all about?"

"First, the wine. And then we shall have a very long talk."

Winterfell - Sansa

All the news came to the North eventually, and the people rejoiced when they learned the wars were over. Sansa read the raven message from Jon and felt tears come when she heard Cersei was dead at last. Never again would she fear falling into the hands of the one person in the world she could call her true enemy. Maybe now the bad memories of her time in the south would be banished. And then it all came back, in a flood of images, and she fell into her bed and wept for her father and mother and brothers and all the rest who would never been seen again.

Sometime later Meera Reed came to her room. The guards let her in when Sansa had failed to answer their knocking. "My lady, the people are waiting for you," Meera said as she neared the bed.

"What?" Sansa asked from the dark shadows of her bed, wiping her eyes. The sun had set and the room was very dark.

"The celebration, Lady Stark. They are preparing for…"

"No," Sansa said quickly as she stood. "There will be no rejoicing."

"I am afraid it is too late."

Too late it was, and through the night a riotous party took place, with much ale and wine consumed. Sansa wanted to stop it but her brother Bran said to let them wash away the bad memories of the wars. As for her, she felt she never could. And she had other fears, and worries, for Jon's letter said Arya and Sandor were hurt in battle with the Mountain, who was dead at last.

Despite calls for her to come and join them she sat in her room with just Bran. Now that Jaime Lannister was dead finally Bran admitted what they knew all along.

"Yes, he pushed me. I remembered."

"Why did you never tell us?" Sansa asked, not angry, just weary of it all.

"Because if not for him I would not be what I am. Jon would not have been able to defeat the Night King. And if I had told you, then you would have arrested and killed him. Then the wars would have continued for no one else could have gotten close enough to Cersei to kill her."

"You knew he would kill Cersei?"

"No. But he was the only one she would trust. If he was somehow turned to be angry with her, he might. When he came to the North and I heard of his split with her, then I decided not to speak on what had happened. As for Cersei, I looked into her life. I saw it all…all Cersei's life."

"All?"

"Yes…I saw her and you, how she tried to become your mother…replacing ours. How she kept you in fear, how…"

"Enough."

"I'm sorry," Bran said.

"Why did you look so deeply into her life?"

"To find a weakness."

"You only needed to ask me. She always had only one weakness…Ser Jaime."

"Yes. And that is why I let him live."

The next day many slept late. Sansa found the cooks still half-drunk as they prepared breakfast. She sat with Bran and Gilly and her son and the Reeds. The topic of the day was the upcoming wedding of Jon and the Queen.

"Will that mean he is the King?" Gilly asked as she wiped some porridge from her son's mouth.

"I think not," Lord Reed said. "Our laws and traditions are strange where this matters for we never had a queen who ruled in her own right before. Not counting Cersei of course, for she was never legally crowned as queen. A woman may take her husband's name and become a lady or a queen, but men never take their wife's name or titles. So Jon Snow will remain as he is named, and will not be called king. There is also the issue of him not having royal blood and being born…well…sorry, but a bastard."

Bran and Sansa looked at each other but said nothing about Jon's secret. That was his to tell the realm, if ever.

"So when will you leave for the capital?" Meera asked Sansa. "For the wedding I mean?"

"Never," Sansa said. "I will not go south again, ever." They looked at her and all understood. "Besides," she added. "There is no time. Jon said they would wed in a matter of days."

And so they did wed, and news arrived of that event, and also a letter from Arya, from King's Landing, where she and Gendry and Sandor were staying for the moment until the weather allowed them to travel North. Arya and Sandor were mending well, thank the gods. Ever greater news was that the Queen had named Gendry heir to Storm's End. She gave him a writ of legitimacy, named him Gendry Baratheon, and gave him title to his father's ancient home.

Gendry was not the only one such rewarded. Many favors the Queen gave over the coming months, and many new lords and ladies began to rule the land. Winter was still on the land, and the struggle for life continued, but with no enemies and no wars, for once people began to hope again, and believe there was a future for Westeros.

Later a new letter came from Arya, telling them that she and Gendry would not be coming to Winterfell, but would move to Storm's End and take up their proper seat. She was now titled Lady Arya Baratheon and he was Lord Baratheon. Sansa and Bran were not happy they would not see their sister again soon, but understood what she was doing, and it was better they took over right away and begin to control the fortress and the region in the name of the Queen.

In her letter Arya also said Sandor and Sam were coming North, and would be here as soon as possible, sailing first to White Harbor with Lord Manderly, and then coming overland, weather permitting.

She waited all through the cold days ahead, often going to the battlements to look out for their coming, but soon was not soon enough for her. One day Meera joined her.

"They will come," she said.

"Yes. But when?"

"Soon. He will come back to you."

Sansa felt herself flush. "What? Who?"

"My lady…"

"Sansa."

"Sansa…we know, everyone knows."

Gods. "Everyone?"

"Yes."

"What do they say about him?"

"Much. Some don't like him, for he once rode with the Lannisters, and has a vile reputation for drunkenness and blasphemy."

She sighed. "All true. And?"

"Some know he is brave and has done much to help us, so they seem willing to forgive him."

"But not all?"

"No. Sorry."

Sansa knew her people questioned her taking Sandor Clegane as a swordsman in her service, but she did it anyway, and cared not, for she had forgiven his faults, as she had forgiven Theon's. The people were unhappy in both cases, but Sandor was not the same as Theon, who had attacked Winterfell, and he was strong and brave and helped them defend their home, so he was accepted. How they would react if he became her husband, which may in fact make him Lord of Winterfell in the eyes of the realm, she could not imagine. As she waited on the battlements with Meera and thought on all of this a plan began to form and soon after she went to see her brother.

Four days later they arrive, coming through the east gate along a path lined with high snow piles, the path only recently been cleared by the people after a heavy snowfall. With Sandor and Sam were Lady Mormont and her men and many more men of Winterfell and the North, and there was much cheer and tears as the people greeted their returning folk.

As Gilly and Sam reunited, Sandor got down from a tall horse and stood before her and her brother Bran, with Lord Glover, the Reeds, and many more nearby.

"Sandor," she said, feeling the word catch in her throat.

"My lady," he said with dip of his head. "I have returned to offer my sword once more."

"It is not me you need offer it to," she replied. She looked at Bran. "My brother has assumed the position as Lord of Winterfell. As is proper."

He looked from her to Bran and back to her. "Aye?" Then he turned to Bran. "My lord, my sword is yours."

"I accept, Sandor Clegane," Bran said. "But know this. I will not tolerate drunkenness and violence."

"I see my reputation is well known, my lord."

"It is. As is your bravery," Bran replied. "Do you agree?'

"Aye, my lord. I am done with drink. As for violence, a man can't be a man if he does not fight back at those who wrong him and his."

"Agreed," Bran said. "Then I name you as personal guard for my sister Sansa, who is my heir."

He dipped his head to Bran and then Sansa. "Come inside, everyone," she said. "Let us get warm and have some food."

A dinner party was put on and all the stories came out. Sam told them of doings in the capital, of the wedding and the Queen's being with child, which the whole realm knew about and rejoiced at the news. Sandor told the story of how the Mountain died and what Jaime Lannister had done as well. As for Sam being maester of Winterfell, Sansa agreed to make it temporary until a decision was made about the future of the Night's Watch. Many were saying with the wights and Night King gone it was not needed anymore. Others were saying the wildlings were still there and were still a danger. Sam told them Jon would come north soon to settle all matters.

Late at night the party finally ended and many went to bed. Sansa finally found herself alone with Sandor at the table as servants cleaned up nearby.

"Have you found peace?" she asked quietly and he knew what she meant.

"I thought I would. Now all I have are bitter memories."

"That can change."

He looked at her. "How?"

She took a deep breath and said what she needed to say. "My brother is waiting for you in his room." Then she reached out and took his strong rough right hand in hers. "Ask him what you want, what you truly want, and he will say yes. And so will I."

Sandor stared at her, and she saw his eyes turn moist. She smiled once, squeezed his hand, stood, and left him.

Five days later they married in the godswood, and for the first time in a long time Sansa felt safe and loved and happy and felt that now the future would be good, and hoped the man she loved would have no more bad memories.

King's Landing – Jon

Jon Snow had never been happier in his life. He was married to a wonderful woman, he had a child on the way, his two sisters were married, and his brother Bran was Lord of Winterfell at last and seemed content. Most of all his enemies were dead and gone, and there was peace in the land. Yet a nagging feeling of something unfinished gnawed at him, and it wasn't until after the wedding that he knew what it was.

"I must return North," he told Daenerys one morning as they lay in bed.

She sighed. "I knew this day would come."

"I'm sorry. But there are things I must do, my love."

"The Night's Watch?" she guessed and spoke on before he could. "It is no longer needed and you are not a member anymore. You are my husband and will be a father soon."

"It is because I am a husband and will be a father that I must settle these matters."

"The Night King is dead. You killed him."

"He is not dead, just in limbo. I told you what Lord Stark and Azor Ahai told me when I was dead."

"Yes. But maybe it was all just a dream."

"I think not. The Night King cannot die. He is waiting, his soul at least, for the time to come back in a mortal form. I must go to the North to prepare them once more."

"I understand. But at least wait until our child is born."

So he waited, and a few months later a daughter was born to them, a difficult birth, but mother and child survived. Their baby was dark of hair like Jon but had the purple lilac eyes of a Targaryen. They named her Lyanna for Jon's mother, but she took her mother's family name for she had royal blood and would be heir to the throne and hopefully someday a dragon rider as well. As for Jon's true heritage they decided to tell no one, for the realm might wonder who the true heir to the throne was. In the past that had often led to war.

The news of Lyanna's birth spread far and wide and many words of congratulations and praise came to them by raven and rider. By now all had bent the knee, in person or by letter, had promised to send representatives to court, and much work was being done to heal all the old wounds. A stable leadership did much to make this so.

But not all was so well. Tyrion was a reluctant part of her council, and soon parted and Davos took his seat. Sometime later Varys told them Tyrion had a surprise of his own, a small family he never knew he had, born of a woman who was his first wife so long ago. When Jon heard the story he knew why Tyrion had fired those crossbow bolts into his father. Daenerys missed the little man with the large appetites and sharp wit, but there was nothing she could say or do to bring him back to court.

"He blames me for his brother," she said, a sadness in her voice. "I fear the rife will never heal."

"Maybe in time it will," he said, but he knew it might never be so.

Two months after their daughter was born, Jon felt it was time to go to the North. "They are waiting for me," he said and she kissed him goodbye and let him go.

Two days as the dragon flies it took him to reach Winterfell. There was much rejoicing and warmth in his reception, and he spent a week with his family and friends. Ghost was the happiest of all for it been nearly half a year since Jon had seen him.

Sandor Clegane was Sansa's husband now, and though Jon found that strange, when he saw them together he knew it was right. Bran named Clegane master of arms and captain of the guard and when Jon saw him training the young boys in the yard he knew it was the right choice. He seemed calmer, not so full of hate, and to his surprise he heard he never cursed or drank anymore except for weak ale with his meals. Sansa had much to do with that he was sure.

Much time he spent with Sam, discussing what needed to be done. Representatives of the free folk he also met and plans were made. He wrote a long letter to Daenerys, telling her what he wanted done. A week and a half later her reply came through by raven, agreeing to all he suggested. When the weather was better she would send a royal writ for the terms discussed.

It was decided that the Nights' Watch would be disbanded. In its stead the free folk would man the Wall against the future possibility of wight attacks. They would be allowed to settle south of the Wall, and by royal degree they would be granted the fifty miles of land between the Wall and the North that was known as the Gift. It had been given to the Night's Watch by the Targaryens in the past, and now a Targaryen would give it to someone else. In return they would provide people and arms to man the Wall and its many castles. Jon planned to reopen them all in time, and to have the free folk become part of the realm. The free folk leaders only had two demands. First, they would pay no taxes and bend no knees. Second, they would not be called upon to fight the Queen's wars if ever there were any. They would have one duty only, to build and man the Wall, and prepare for the future. Jon told Daenerys they could not strike a better deal and so she agreed.

But for now the weather was the problem, with winter deep on the land. No one was going to get to the Wall by land, with deep snows covering the Kingsroad north of Winterfell. Eastwatch was the main issue for that's where the Wall fell and would need to be repaired. They could reach it by sea from White Harbor, but storms in the far north were notoriously bad, so Jon decided they would wait for spring. He was sure the Night King's long nap would not be over so soon.

Meanwhile he and Sam would fly north on Rhaegal to inspect Castle Black and see what was left of it and the Wall.

They left on a cold morning but at least the sky was clear and the sun was shining. Gilly admonished Sam to keep warm and gave him some warm wine in a clay jug for the trip. After farewells were made and last warnings to be careful they took off on Rhaegal and headed north.

It was almost dark by the time they reached Castle Black, both of them cold despite sitting on a dragon's back. Jon steered Rhaegal to land in the main courtyard and no sooner were they off his back then he took off and went high, landing on top of the Wall.

They stood in the courtyard and saw that most of the castle remained intact, though it was cold and lifeless. For both many memories came back.

"This is where we first met," Sam said.

"Aye. You looking clumsy in training armor and with a tourney sword you didn't know how to hold."

"I think I still have some of the bruises from that day."

They laughed a bit at that, but Jon had other thoughts. "Memories are what I will always have, of this place and the brothers I knew…and of those who betrayed me."

"I should have been here."

"You would have been killed too, Sam. And I could never forgive myself if that had happened."

Sam sighed. "They are all gone. The Old Bear, Edd, Pyp, Grenn…so many more."

"Let us hope the dying is done. Come, it is time we climbed the Wall once more and stood our post one last time. By winch cage. I think Rhaegal is enjoying himself too much up there."

The cage still worked, though its metal screamed in protest at first, then settled down into the old familiar rhythm. After a time they were high up and the rays of the setting sun to the west were licking the tree tops below.

Rhaegal was there when they arrived, sitting in a pool of melting snow and ice. He seemed to purr when he saw Jon and he took two steps towards them. Jon touched his snout and then looked north.

The vast wilderness was still there. How many were still out there he did not know, but their people would soon come back and send messages far and wide telling them to come south. Some would not, he knew, and they would spend their days as they always did, hunting, fishing, warring. Jon worried about the last, but there was nothing he could do about it. Always they would have their petty fights, for they were human, and it was in their nature.

As for the rest of the realm he hoped it never came again, war in all its horror. The Queen was strong and so was he, but they were just two people. Allies they needed, alliances with powerful houses they must have, and Jon was not one for such ways, of politics and backroom deals. He knew who was.

"We need Tyrion," he said at last.

"He won't come back. I know you love her, but she did things…terrible things."

"Sam, can you ever forgive her?"

"Sorry…no. They were my kin. Horrible as he was, he was still my father. And my brother never hurt anyone."

Jon said nothing to that for he knew it would do no good. "How can I get Tyrion to come back?" he asked to change the subject.

"I am thinking of a project for him," Sam said.

"What project?" Jon asked in surprise.

"Do you know why the wildlings were kept on the far side of the wall for eight thousand years?"

"Aye. People said they were savages and needed to be kept out of the realm."

"But we both know that is not true. The real truth is that people forgot. They forgot why the Wall was built, and they forgot because no one told them. We must change that this time."

"How?"

"Words," Sam replied. "Words for the people. A history of the wars and the Night King. Tyrion can write it. I am sure such a project would be to his liking."

Jon smiled. "Aye, it would." Jon knew it might even bring him back to the capital for research. Once there he might be persuaded to stay a while.

"This time we won't forget," Sam continued. "Even if they come back in eight thousand years, the realm will be ready."

"But how do we get the people to read about it when most can't even spell their names?"

"That will be up to you and her. Change must come, Jon. I heard Tyrion say the Queen wants to break the wheel, the wheel that keeps high folk and small folk where they are. The first step to that is teaching. The gift of education is what the people need. In time the whole realm will benefit."

"There will be resistance."

"There will. So you must stand by her side, and see that it is done right. Start small and then you will see what happens."

"You have thought on this a lot, haven't you?"

"I have. At the Citadel I saw how even the most brilliant minds in the realm are so ignorant and stupid in so many ways."

"Then it will be done. If so, I need more than Tyrion. I need you, to lead it."

He thought Sam would stutter and refuse and say no, that he wasn't good enough, but this was not the same Sam he had met on the training ground so long ago.

"Aye," he said. "I have only one price."

"Gilly?"

"Yes. You must make the Queen make a degree. All maesters may marry if they wish."

"I'll do my best. But they will resist this as well."

"They will. But it is a beginning. We will have to take much away from the maesters to teach the realm. Tell her she must start with them if she wants to break the wheel."

"Aye. We must break the wheel."

They watched the sun set and as the last rays fled the day Rhaegal gave a great roar, his voice echoing across the realm that was at peace once more. Jon Snow hoped it would stay that way for all the days to come, both for now and in the very far future.

Thanks to all of you who read my story to the end. Things may turn out like this on the show, but most likely not. We'll have to wait and see next year. I hope you enjoyed it and thank you especially to those who left comments.