Chapter twenty-one

Thormund

'They should burn him,' he thought to himself, as he looked to the pale corpse of Jon in front of him.

Jon's friend was right on time. He still recognized him as he was at Hardhome as well, as one of the few cunts of Castle Black. Edd, Jon called him. Thormund knew Edd could be trusted and that he brought bad news with him. He could see that by his worried face.

Most of the Free Folk didn't think twice as they stood up and went with him, to fight off the black cloaks who gave Edd and the grey man any trouble. Jon had fought for them and now it was time to fight for Jon.

Some black cloaks gave them a little trouble, but the Free Folk were experienced warriors. They fought off a few, as the rest of the crows stood back and let them through the gates.

He had walked straight towards Jon's room, to see for himself what Jon's own men did to him. His direwolf Ghost was guarding him, as were some crows and the grey man, who said that he could not fight.

The grey man told them of the Red Woman, who had returned from another battle. The grey man had seen the magic that she was able to do, so maybe to Jon as well. Thormund refused: Jon needed to burn, out of respect. His corpse should never join the Night King's army, who would grow very strong if they had Jon as well. Yes, Jon was small and his nature too gentle for his taste, but he was a great warrior.

He looked at the Red Woman suspiciously. He had agreed reluctantly in the end, as there were more that wanted Jon back, and Thormund thought that Jon deserved the chance. Plus, without Jon, the men South of the Wall would probably kick their asses back to where they first were.

The woman was in red, like always. She did not smile, as she even looked a little pale and tired. She talked less, which was an improvement in his opinion. He could never forget what that bitch had done to Mance, so he would never fully trust her. But they needed her now….

He smiled as he looked at Jon's prick. It was tinier than he thought. Jon could be a little prick. He had shown that to him at the battle of Castle Black, where he fought against his folk.

He stopped smiling as he saw that the grey man was watching him. He started to focus on the wolf now, that was silently asleep at his master's feet.

A few men shivered as a cold breeze filled the room. Thormund did not, as he was used to the cold, but he could not deny that it was getting colder by the day. That could mean only one thing: the army of the dead was getting closer…

Thormund seated himself on a wooden stool close to the window as he leaned his elbows on his knees, as he joined his fingertips. He looked through them to see what the Red Witch would do with Jon.

She mumbled something in a foreign language he could not understand, as she washed Jon's body and wounds. The cotton cloth went red with his dried blood, as was the water that was cleaning him. The witch proceeded to do this for three times, as she was still mumbling some spells.

Those bastards had hit him hard, as he saw that Jon had more than six stab-wounds on his torso. He shook his head as he watched the Red Woman cutting off one of Jon's curly locks. She walked over to the fire and threw it in.

He looked at the grey man as he raised an eyebrow. Would this actually work?

The woman took several other hairs, from his beard as well, and threw them all the same in the fire. The air was starting to fill with the smell of burnt hair. This better be working…

Now, the woman took an urn that was probably filled with water, as she washed Jon's hair with it. Drops of water fell onto the ground as Thormund watched the woman silently, still wondering what would come next.

The woman warmed her hands as she walked over to Jon. She rested her hands on his torso as she closed her eyes and whispered some spells he could not understand. This was the resurrection part, he knew. It would all come to this moment.

Thormund could see that the woman had trouble to see that the spell did not work on Jon. He grimaced. He already thought that, though no one would bother to listen to him. The witch closed her eyes and started the ritual again.

She took her hands from Jon's pale torso after she had tried to bring him back to life for three times. Thormund sighed angrily, as he saw the worried look she gave the grey man.

He had seen enough. He should've trust his guts earlier on. This was a mistake.

Little did he knew that the young man would fill his lungs with cold air a few minutes from then.

…..

Alyssa

"I don't believe you," she said as she narrowed her eyes and looked at Bronn in front of her.

Bronn simply shrugged. "Well, then you don't," he said to her, "Your brother didn' believe me either." He said as he took another sip of his wine.

Alyssa smirked at him as she looked at him from over her own goblet. She could see why Eleonor was attracted to him. Bronn was a handsome man, with clear blue eyes and still dark hair, although he was getting quite older. He had few wrinkles, but mostly because he smiled a lot. He had treated Alyssa very well, but most likely because she paid him a lot.

"Do you miss him?" She asked him as she poured him and herself more wine, "Maribell? Please bring us some more, and some cheese." She asked the handmaiden that was with them, as Alyssa had given Eleonor some other duties.

Maribell bowed to her and left to get what she was asked for. Bronn thought for a moment, as he thought what he was going to answer her.

"Sometimes I do. He was a cunt, but a good one. And what 'bout you?"

"What, my brother?" Alyssa asked him as she watched how Maribell returned with the food and drinks, "Of course I miss him. He's my friend."

Bronn shook his head as he let Maribell fill his goblet again. "No, no, not Tyrion. That Snow-bloke of yours."

Alyssa felt how all the blood in her face disappeared as she looked at him with big eyes. She swallowed the sour feeling in her throat away.

"No. I don't." She simply said.

Bronn raised an eyebrow as he looked at her. "You drink more than you used to."

She rolled her eyes as she thought of how much he sounded like a father now. "Do you mind?" She spat. "I've never had the time to realize that the man that took my maidenhood, was actually going to be the man that I would love, my family was one big mess with my late nephew beheading the father of the man that I love. Then, my family killed off his brother, stepmother and all of their banners at that old prick's castle. Thereafter, my father imprisoned my brother, because he and my sister thought that they killed my most beloved nephew. Next, there comes another man who did comfort me at the time, but hey, guess again? He died as well. Subsequently, my brother killed my father as to save his own ass as he fled from Westeros. I then decided to go to the man that I loved from the beginning of this fairytale, as he turned me down as soon as I got there. Yet here I am, alive and well, drinking wine in my ancestral home, with a Maester that has touched both of my brothers, my sister and me as I am waiting for my sister to marry me to someone." She ended as she raised her goblet to him.

Bronn shrugged. "Could've been worse, though."

She looked at him in disbelief. "How, though?"

"Well, you could've been dead." He said as he pointed his finger at her.

Alyssa giggled to herself at Bronn's remark. He had a point, somewhere. She was still here to make things right.

Master Creylen walked in as his chains clashed to each other. Alyssa rolled her eyes again as she looked at the old man, that took all of the Lannister children into the world. She didn't know how he managed that, but Alyssa didn't bother: he would soon die, anyway.

"My Lady," he started, "a raven has come, from Castle Black."

"Good," Alyssa said as she smiled at him, "give it to Bronn. He'll read it to me."

Maester Creylen looked confused at her, but handed the piece of parchment over to Bronn, who denied.

"Nope, can't do. Can't read." He said to her as he laughed.

Alyssa now looked at him in disbelief. "You know every amount of golden dragons I owe you, but you can't read?"

Bronn raised his hands in defense. "I know a great deal of sums, but letters are just not my thing."

She rolled his eyes as she took another sip. "Oh well, you can read it." She said a bit bitter to the Maester, who took no offence.

Maester Creylen cleared his voice before he started. "To the Lady Lannister, Lady of Casterly Rock and Wardeness of the… hmpf…." He paused as he saw how Alyssa urged him to read on with a waving hand, "The Lord Commander Jon Snow has been killed by his own brothers…"

Everything was a blur after that. Alyssa could hear Creylen talk from a distance, but she did not understand him. She even heard him finishing the letter and Bronn calling out her name, but she had no words to answer.

She simply drank her wine. She didn't feel anything, at all. She could not think properly or feel the pain she expected to have when she would hear news like this. How odd…

"Alyssa?" Bronn said as he slapped her softly on the cheek, "you there?"

"Yes, yes I am." She corrected herself as she sat up high in her chair.

"What do you want me to do, my Lady?" Maester Creylen asked her.

Alyssa looked a bit confused, as she hadn't heard all of the letter. Bronn noticed, and helped her out.

"That Ser Davos is asking you to send men to the Wall, out of respect to the Snow-bloke." He said slowly, afraid that Alyssa might miss it again.

She thought for a moment as she pouted her mouth. She would like to pay her last respects to the man she loved, but her sister would never allow her to do that.

"We will not," she decided, as Bronn looked at her in disbelief.

"Are you sure?" He asked her, "Remember what we spoke about until this fella came in?" He said as he nodded to Maester Creylen.

"Yes I do, Ser Bronn, but that's all in the past now. We cannot help the dead, only the living." She said, warning him to not discuss this further with her.

"A wise decision, my Lady." Maester Creylen said as he bowed to her.

Bronn simply watched her as he shook his head.

….

Cersei

"Your Grace? There has been a letter. From the Night's Watch." Qyburn told her with his sly smile.

She finished her wine as she smiled back.

'Dark wings, dark words, Catelyn Stark used to say,' she thought to herself, 'we will see how dark these words are.'

The man in front of her only needed to read the first sentence to her to know that her little plan had succeeded: Jon Snow, the bastard, was dead. Her little sister was acquitted from the curse that people called 'love'. Alyssa could marry another man that she would choose for her and be a mother. Then was the time that Alyssa finally would understand what it was all about: being a mother. To love a person unconditionally. It wouldn't matter what they would do or who their father would be.

Of course, Alyssa would have to marry to a man from a lower House. Not only wouldn't she tolerate it if Alyssa would gain more power, but their children would also need to be called Lannister. No family from a great House would agree to that, and her Jaime and that wicked little creature Tyrion were the last male Lannisters. They would not provide them with legitimate heirs.

"Thank you, Qyburn," she almost whispered, "please send Satin our kind regards."

"I will, Your Grace." He said as he bowed and left the room.

She thought for a moment that Alyssa would be a good gift to Satin, as for all that he had done for her.

'No, I couldn't do that to her, nor our House,' she thought to herself, 'the boy is a whore. A handsome one, but too low of birth. Denys Redwyne, perhaps? It would strengthen our ties with the Reach.. No, it's their only son. They would never allow to call his children Lannister.'

She sighed. With all these wars, good matches for her sister were small. Oh, but she would figure it out.

….

Jon

He let the air fill his lungs as the breathed deeply.

It felt like he was able to breathe again, after someone had strangled him.

He looked next to the wooden table, where he saw his loyal direwolf.

"Ghost." He whispered hoarsely.

Ghost got on his feet and walked over to him. Jon could feel his warm fur and wet snout, realizing that this wasn't a dream: he was alive.

'Alyssa…' He thought.

He saw a cup of water on a wooden table as he helped himself up and walked over to it. While drinking the cold water, he realized that he was bare.

The breeches that he was wearing during the incident hung over the chair that was right in front of him. He pulled them on as he heard someone opening the door. Ghost snarled intimidating.

Jon turned around to see Davos Seaworth enter the room, looking like he couldn't believe what had happened.

"I was really hoping that you could tell me what in the Seven hells has happened." Jon said to him, as he still felt weak. He sat on the chair as Davos walked over to him.

"The.. the Red Woman…" He simply spoke.

Jon sighed: he was already afraid that that would be it. He didn't know if he should be happy that he had returned: there were a lot of people that wanted him dead, even his own Brothers, but there was also the threat of the Army of the Dead. He had seen them. He needed to protect the people from Westeros, his family, the woman he loved.

"Where are they?" He asked Davos.

Davos was clever enough to know that he was talking about the Brothers that killed him.

"Behind bars, my Lord. Thormund Giantsbane and his men took care of that."

Jon simply nodded. "Could you pass me a quill and ink? I need to write to someone."

"How 'bout some food, my Lord?" Davos said as he raised an eyebrow.

"Yes.. Some food will do." Jon answered absent-minded.

…

It still felt a little surreal, like he had woken up from a terrible dream. He did not even know if he was happy that the Lady Melisandre resurrected him from the death.

He looked up to see a lot of men looking at him: some in admiration, some as they were terrified. He didn't blame them: when would you ever see a resurrected man? Maybe they also believed that it was some kind of black magic, like some thought the Red Priest was.

He looked back to his plate as he finished his ale. There was a piece of rabbit leg, which was chewy, but it tasted good nevertheless. Ghost stayed close behind him, like he was afraid that something bad would happen to him again.

When he had had his meal, he knew that there was only one right thing to do.

'A man who passes the sentence, should swing the sword..' His father's voice spoke in his head when he made the decision. The men, his brothers, who plotted against him to murder him, would be executed and he would be the man to do it.

"They think you're some kind of God." Thormund Giantsbane spoke to him as he stood up, preparing himself for what was about to happen, "the man who'd return from the dead."

Jon sighed. "I'm not a God."

Thormund shook his head. "I know that." He laughed, "I've seen your pecker. What kind of God would have a pecker that small?" He asked him as he embraced him.

With the embrace, Jon winced as he felt the slap on his back. The wound was still painful. Thormund looked worried at him, but Jon nodded that he was alright.

The next person he fixed his eyes on in the courtyard was his friend, Dolorous Edd. His friend looked worried, as Jon tried to put a smile on his face.

"Your eyes are still brown. Is it still you in there?" Edd asked Jon.

Jon smiled, as he could expect the cynic reaction from his critical friend.

"I think so," he answered honestly, "hold on from burning my body for now."

Edd laughed as he answered. "That's funny," he said, "Are you sure that's still you in there?"

The two friends laughed at each other's comments as they held each other in an embrace.

…

Tyrion

"You promised me once that you would tell me why your sister was a trouble-maker, my Lord Hand." Queen Daenerys said to him as she, once more, took the goblet of wine out of his hands to stop him from drinking.

Tyrion smiled to himself. The mother of dragons had returned for just a few days and here she was: asking him about his little sister again.

"If I may ask: why are you so interested in her? Don't get me wrong, my sister is indeed an interesting woman, but you never ask of my other siblings." He asked her.

He looked at the young woman right in front of him. She wore a white dress, as white as her silvery hair, which was braided again. She took that style from the Dothraki: one braid meant one victory. Tyrion wondered if Queen Daenerys would have hair enough once they were back in Westeros.

"I'm just curious. She's of my age and I am curious of how the ladies grow up in Westeros. I am to rule there some day." She said as she raised him an eyebrow.

"Yes, Your Grace, of course you are," he said as he nodded his head, "well, Alyssa didn't have to work hard to get a man's attention. My father, of course, did not like that: it was up to him to tell his little cub who she should marry."

Dany looked like she didn't understood: "Was she playing around with several men?"

"No, no, not in the way you think. Alyssa liked her little games, some remarks, some smirks, but got easily bored. There was not one man that could catch her interest for more than a week. And then we went to Winterfell…" Tyrion sighed as he remembered that moment. He went to Wintertown as soon as they got there. Alyssa blamed him for not keeping her company afterwards.

"Winterfell? You mean, the city where the Starks rule?" Dany asked.

"Ruled," Tyrion corrected her, but in a respectful way, "we went there when King Robert was still alive. He wanted to ask Lord Eddard Stark, an old friend of his, to become his new hand of the King. The whole royal family went with him, as did our family. So, I went into the brothels and my sister went inside Winterfell's gates. And there was the man who immediately got my sister's attention and never lost it since."

"Who?" The Queen asked curiously.

"Give me back my wine and I'll tell you," Tyrion said, but with a smile. He was pleased to see that the Queen gave back his wine, although reluctantly, as he continued after he took a sip, "The bastard son of Eddard Stark: Jon Snow. Curly, brown hair, brown eyes, muscular, easy on the eye: you would understand her. They only saw each other for a couple of days, but she never got her mind off him since." He said as he finished his cup.

"It must've been true love, then."

"Yes, I believe it was for her. Unfortunately, he took the Black. The Night's Watch, who guard the Realms of Men," He explained, as he saw her confused face, "And they shall take no wife and father no children. It is a part of their vows."

"So, they haven't seen each other since?"

"Not that I know of. Speaking of my sister: we do need to make a plan for when you will return to Westeros. You need allies and gold." Tyrion said as he ended the conversation about his sister.

He did not like to admit it, but he truly missed her and Jaime. Essos was nice, but… different. He didn't feel the same man as he has been in Westeros. There was the heat, for instance, that almost sweated his cock off and made him sleep bad in the nights, as he would wake up in the mornings in his own sweat, and then there were the people, who loved to fight and were so conservative, that his father must have liked them.

He was happy that he could help Daenerys with a good cause: ending slavery and making progress in the development of the Essosi culture. He'd only hope that they would soon return for Westeros again, for he knew the people and the culture there better and be of better help.

"What does that have to do with your sister?" Daenerys asked him.

"She's the Lady of Casterly Rock now, I presume, as my sister will stay by her children's side, who are on the throne, my brother is a King's Guard and I am sitting here, enjoying the beautiful weather with you. Casterly Rock and the Lannister's are well known for their goldmines and wars are expensive, my Queen."

"Yes," She said as she raised her chin a little in the air, "As they are well known for their treachery. Once I've set foot in Westeros, your sister will get an invitation, to bend the knee to me. That I trust you, does not mean that I trust any other of your relatives. I have not forgotten what your brother did to my father."

"Of course, your Grace." Tyrion answered.

He did want to defend Jaime to her, tell her that his brother had no other choice, but he knew that that would have been very unwise. He decided that that was another discussion for some other time.

…..

Alyssa

"Do you play cards, Ser Bronn? I am bored." She said as she stroked the fabric of her dress.

It was a crimson silk one with golden lions sewed to its shoulders. The sleeves were long, due to the weather was getting colder in the South. She wore her golden hair loosely over her shoulders as a golden pin with a ruby in it got some strings together at the back of her head.

Her handmaiden Eleonor suggested that she could wear a black dress, to mourn for Jon, as she had done when she heard of the news of her father, but Alyssa decided not to. They were just not meant to be and that was final.

"Are you the Lady to Casterly Rock?" Bronn answered as he turned the wooden chair around to sit on it.

He wanted to take the deck of cards on the table to shuffle the deck as Alyssa slapped him on the hands. "No. I'll shuffle, so I'll be sure that you won't cheat."

Bronn smirked at her as he said: "Shall I give us som' wine, then?"

"You may," she said as she shuffled the deck, "and don't be too frugal."

She watched as Bronn poured them the wine. She handed him the cards as they started to play.

Alyssa would usually play with Tyrion, as she missed his company terribly. What would've happened to him? Was he still alive? Probably, Cersei would've let the whole realm know that he was dead. Was he safe, then? Would he write to her, or did he not dare to risk that chance? Would she ever see him again?

"Three Kings, I win!" She said after a while as she put the cards on the table and clapped her hands.

Bronn licked his teeth as he shook his head. "I'm sorry lass, three aces." He said as he put the cards on the table as well.

He started to laugh as he saw the disappointment on her face, but quickly stopped once Eleonor came in, followed by Maester Creylen.

"Eleonor, Maester Creylen, to WHAT do I owe this pleasure now?" She said a tad irritated; she already had answered the ravens that needed to be answered today. Surely, she could take a break right?

"My Lady, I'm sorry, I would have waited if it wasn't urgent, but your handmaiden told me that it might be." Maester Creylen started.

Alyssa raised her eyebrows as she looked at them both in surprise. She had to admit that she was a little curious of what could be the news that her handmaiden convinced her Maester to tell her the news.

"There has been another raven from Castle Black, My Lady." Maester Creylen told her.

Bronn now looked up in surprise as well.

"I'm not interested." Alyssa said as she focused on the deck of cards again and started to shuffle. "Bronn, rematch?" She pressed.

"Please, m'lady, you should hear what he has to say." Eleonor almost begged her.

Alyssa sighed. "I said: I am NOT interested. Bronn, rematch?" She pressed once more.

Bronn shrugged. "Maybe you should listen, though." He told her.

Alyssa knew he only said that because he was curious of the content, not because he thought that it was right for Alyssa.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. What is it?" She spoke as she took another goblet of wine.

"It's the Lord Commander, My Lady. Lord Snow. He is alive and asks for your response." Maester Creylen informed her.

Alyssa let the goblet fall out of her hands once she heard the news, leaving a ruby stain on the carpet below her.

…..

A/N: Happy new year everyone!

I'm sorry for the late update, as I'm also writing a different story which I'm mostly focusing on right now. It's called 'Iron and Winter', you should check it out!

I really hope you like this chapter!

Xoxo Radicallion