Sansa

The trees had long shed their leaves, their twigs bare like the landscape around her. Even from afar she was able to see the silver glimmer of the God's Eye. The last time she had passed these lands she was still a child and the thick forest around Harrenhall had been dressed in the colours of autumn. Now even these trees were bare and dead.

Winter is coming, her Lord Father used say to warn them of the coming danger. Even Sansa often ignored his warnings.

Moving towards the blackened gates of Harrenhall they were greeted by outriders that sported the golden rose of House Tyrell.

Their appearance was no surprise to Sansa. Even from afar she had been able to see the sea of pavilions and tents, though not all of them belonged to House Tyrell.

As they passed the tents Sansa took note of each batch and crest. It made her aware just how much the nobility of Westeros had been reduced the past wars. Some houses had been completely eradicated and while others continued to live on through cadet branches.

House Tyrell alone had lost four prominent members, though they took good care to wed into almost all prominent houses of the Reach. Lord Willas Tyrell had many possible successors even if he wouldn't be able to father a child of his own.

The gods wouldn't be this cruel, she thought and climbed from her horse to meet the man she had been corresponding with over the last moons. The Queen of Thorns had once envisioned a match between her and her and Lord Willas Tyrell, though Sansa knew by now that it was just another ploy to claim the North. They wouldn't have looked at her a second time if they had known about her brothers' survival. Not the game had changed and Sansa decided right there that she would make full use of it.

"Lady Sansa," the young heir of House Tyrell greeted her. He was tall like his brother Loras, but his face was sharper and his hair darker. Yet he was graced with Margaery's smile. It was a warm smile, but not devoid of sadness. "It is a great pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine, my Lord," she replied and dropped a curtsy. He nodded and leaned down to place a brief kiss on her hand, before lifting his head to look at her.

"My Grandmother and Lord Tyrion await us," he informed her without hesitation and took in her large entourage.

There was her Uncle Edmure, her Grand-Uncle the Blackfish, Lord Yohn Royce, Lord Reed and many more. Every house of the North sent a representative. Most of them were relatives of the ruling lords and ladies while some sent trusted advisors to observe the council on their behalf. The same could be said about the other houses.

"I am pleased to see your grandmother again, my Lord" she replied politely. "My Uncles, Lord Royce and Lord Reed will join us."

"Of course," Lord Tyrell replied and gave her a knowing smile. It didn't surprise her at all. Lord Tyrion must have informed them. "Please come along, my Lords and Lady."

"It is my pleasure," she repeated and followed him into a large pavilion made of a shiny green material.

Inside she found a large polished table covered with candles and several familiar faces. There was Lady Olenna Tyrell, Lord Tyrion and even Ser Barristan Selmy. Jon told her that he survived, but seeing him here was still a pleasant surprise. Only the sun-kissed woman garbed in orange and yellow silk was unknown to her, though Sansa had her suspicions. This must be Princess Arianne Martell.

Lord Tyrion didn't hesitate to introduce them.

"I think you remember Lady Olenna and Ser Barristan," he said and graced her with a mild smile. Then he jerked his head at the sun-kissed woman. "And this is Princess Arianne Martell."

The woman bared her white teeth.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, my Lady Stark."

"The pleasure is mine," she replied politely and shifted her attention back to Lady Olenna and Ser Barristan Selmy."It eases my heart to find you alive, my Lady. And you, good Sir."

True to her character, Lady Olenna came straight to the point.

"Keep your flatteries to yourself, sweet girl," she said and leaned on her gilded crutch. "Sit down and let us speak about your supposed brother. I could scarcely believe it when I heard it from Lord Tyrion's mouth. Eddard Stark a traitor to his King…it is unbelievable."

Sansa could only agree. That her Lord Father had lied for all these years was still hard for her to believe, but she also knew how much he had loved his sister. The flowers on her grave were proof for that.

"My father tried to protect my Aunt's offspring," she replied calmly and received only confused looks from her Uncle Edmure, the Blackfish and Lord Royce.

"Dear niece," her Uncle Edmure added. "What kind of treason could your father have committed?"

Sansa sighed deeply and braced herself for their reactions.

"He lied about Jon's parentage," she explained and looked first at the Blackfish and then at her Uncle Edmure. "The truth is…Jon isn't my father's son."

Her Uncle's blue eyes widened in shock, the Blackfish fell silent and Lord Royce looked as if he was about to drop from his chair.

"That is hard to believe…he has the Stark look," the Blackfish protested, but Sansa shook her head and leaned over to touch his hand.

"Jon looks like a Stark, because his mother was our father's sister Lady Lyanna Stark….and his father was…," she continued, but was unable to speak further, now that all of them looked at her.

"His father was Rhaegar Targaryen," Lord Howland Reed finished for her.

"Impossible!" Lord Royce gasped and stared at her as if she had grown a second head. "I have known Ned since he was a young boy. He would have never betrayed Robert in such a vile manner. He would have never harboured a child that was raped into his sister."

"Prince Rhaegar never raped her," Lord Howland Reed corrected him quickly. "Lyanna Stark wasn't abducted by Rhaegar, at least not in the way Robert imagined it. She ran away with him…she loved him and she married him. It was a foolish thing to do, but Lyanna's boy is not to blame for his parents' actions. At least that is how Ned saw it. On her dying bed his sister implored him to save her son and so he did. Does it really surprise you that Ned acted this way, my Lord? When King Robert rejoiced over the death of King Rhaegar's children, Ned left him standing there like a fool and set out to find his sister. Only Lyanna's death was able to reconcile them somewhat, though in the end I think even Ned realized that their friendship was not the same."

"He married her?" the Blackfish asked sceptically. "He had a wife…"

"Elia Martell," Lord Reed confirmed. "But she is gone. Her children as well. There is no other claimant left other than Jon and his wife."

"Lord Reed speaks true," Sansa added her voice and sought Princess Arianne's gaze. She had listened in stoic silence, which made Sansa believe that Lord Tyrion had informed her beforehand. "By his marriage to Queen Daenerys any doubts of legitimacy can be thrown out of the window. He may not be Prince Aegon, but he is still Rhaegar Targaryen's son. I was also shocked when I found out the truth, but Jon is a better choice than Cersei Lannister. Even Queen Daenerys is prepared to support Jon's claim. I beg of you, please promise us your support."

Then she craned her neck to look at Lord Royce.

"And you, my lord. For the sake of the love you held for my father. Forget your grudge against the Targaryens and help us depose the true enemy…the Lannisters," she added and gave Lord Tyrion and apologetic look.

He returned her smile and dipped his head.

"I don't deny the truth in your words, dear niece," her Uncle Edmure replied. "But that doesn't change the fact that your father lied to my sister in the vilest manner possible…"

"They are dead," Sansa she countered quickly. "Robb, father and mother are all dead. I don't know what my father or mother would have done, but I am sure that Robb would have supported Jon if it helped to remove Queen Cersei from power."

"Sansa speaks true," the Blackfish grumbled and patted Uncle Edmure's shoulder. "I had my doubts about the boy, but he kept his word to me. He even handed his crown to our niece.

"He just traded one crown for another," her Uncle Edmure replied cynically. She loved her Uncle, but she was beginning to losing her patience.

"I am only asking you to vote for him, not to kiss his feet, dear Uncle," Sansa snapped.

"The Targaryens were my father's enemies…," her Uncle opened his mouth in protest and Lady Olenna didn't hesitate to hit him with her crutch.

Her Uncle grunted in pain and Lady Olenna used the moment to speak.

"Loyalties change all the time, my lord," she chided him like a young unruly boy. "Now is the time to bite in the sour apple. I made the mistake to underestimate Queen Cersei and I paid dearly for it. She needs to go and the best way to do achieve this without bloodshed is if we stand united."

"I can only agree with my grandmother," Lord Tyrell added warmly and angled his head to look at Princess Arianne.

"What do you say, my Lady?"

She gave a sad smile.

"I hold no love for Prince Rhaegar and his lover, but I support Queen Daenerys and her husband. He has my vote if it means to remove Queen Cersei."

"Hear hear!" the Blackfish muttered and gave Edmure a sharp look. "What do you say now, nephew? Princess Arianne has more reason to dislike the boy than you. See reason."

"Very well," her Uncle grumbled and lowered his head. "I agree."

"That only leaves the Vale," Lady Olenna added and gave Lord Royce a scrutinising look. "What does the newly-made Protector of the Vale say? Will he prove himself a grumpy old man or a man of reason?"

Lord Royce frowned.

"I cannot say that I approve of Ned's deception, but he is gone. And your brother…Rhaegar's son brought Petyr Baelish to justice…I owe him for that. That is why he has my support."

Sansa sighed in relief and smiled at both Lady Olenna and Lord Tyrion.

"Then let me explain our plan…"

…

The distant horizon was lined with red streaks when Sansa stepped out of her tent. She longed for rest, but Ser Barristan came her way and thwarted her intentions.

"Ser Barristan," she greeted him and smiled warmly. "I was surprised that you didn't raise your voice during the meeting…"

"I am a man of the Kingsguard," he replied and returned her smile. "I was thought to keep my mouth shut. I am not going to lie…I am anxious to meet your brother. I always had my doubts that Prince Rhaegar raped your Aunt, but that he married her…I didn't foresee that."

"Many of us did not," Sansa agreed wholeheartedly. "But I am sure Jon will be pleased to meet you. You are one of the few people left in this world who knew Prince Rhaegar personally."

"I hope so too, my Lady," he replied and leaned down to kiss Sansa's hand. "Forgive an old man for keeping you so long, my Lady."

Then he let go of her hand left.

"Do you know Ser Barristan well, my Lady?" the familiar voice of Willas' Tyrell snapped her out of her thoughts.

She turned around to look at him.

"I know him from my time in King's Landing," she informed him. "But I cannot claim to know him very well."

"Neither can I," he replied and offered his arm. She took it hesitatingly and together they walked along a muddy path, lined by trees and tents. "You knew my sister too, didn't you?"

"I did," Sansa confirmed and searched for a nice memory with Margaery Tyrell. "She was kind to me. She sent me new dresses. I was saddened by her death."

"Marge liked to make dresses," Lord Willas replied sadly and brushed his hand over the golden rose embroidered on his doublet. "She made this for me. Truly, Marge would have made an excellent seamstress if she hadn't been born into a noble family. I didn't approve of her marriage to King Joffrey, but I supported my father out of loyalty to my house. I know now that I acted cowardly. I should have voiced my protest…maybe then Marge would still be with us. The bloody crown was not worth it in the end."

Hearing him like this made her feel melancholic. Both of them lost loved ones and both of them were both damaged goods.

"I had to learn the same lesson. I desperately wanted to be Queen and begged my father to wed me to Joff. I was a foolish girl."

He squeezed her arm and smiled down at her. His golden eyes were warm like spring sunshine and stirred something in her heart that she had thought lost. Warmth.

"You are not foolish, my Lady," he assured her and jerked his head at his twisted leg. "I once dared to challenge Prince Oberyn Martell to a jousting competition and earned myself this crippled leg. I too was a foolish boy."

"Oh, I wasn't just foolish, I was very foolish," she japed and squeezed his hand in return."Arya can tell you all about it when she joins us."

"Arya is your younger sister, isn't she? I haven't seen her?"

"She accompanied Jon to Dragonstone," she explained. "I should have known that she wouldn't skip an opportunity to fly on a dragon."

Willas Tyrell looked stunned.

"The dragons accept her?"

"Not her, but my brother," she explained and gave him a knowing smile. "Didn't Lord Tyrion inform you about their intentions?"

"He did, but I wasn't aware that your sister would be part of it," he remarked in an amused voice and pointed at the distant camp. Above the golden tents rose the banner of House Lannister and it was surrounded by several thousand men-at-arms. Sansa wasn't surprised that Cersei came armed. She hated her with all her heart, but she couldn't deny that she learned some valuable lessons from her. "Queen Cersei will have a good view when the dragons arrive. My grandmother's only grievance is that she won't be able to stand next to her to behold her stunned face."

…

Daenerys

The world below her was a motely of brown and yellow. The trees had long shed their garb and half a day ago they saw the first snow covering the hills and valleys of the Riverlands.

Daenerys heard much of Harrenhall. This was the place where her brother Rhaegar met his Lady Lyanna. It was the beginning of the downfall of her family.

This castle looks cursed, she thought as she patted Drogon's back. Ever carefully, her child descended towards the large ridge not far from the blackened walls.

Soil, stones and earth were pulled out of the earth as he landed on the ground. Once he had stopped his movement she turned around and cast her eyes to the dreary sky where she spotted Rhaegal and Viserion.

Rhaegal shrieked as he descended towards the ridge and threw flames into the air as if to announce his arrival.

Daenerys didn't mind his antics. Queen Cersei ought to see what she is up to, though she promised to keep them away from the council itself.

"Well, done," she praised Drogon. He lowered his back and climbed down. Jon did the same and met her along the way. He looked a little pale around the face. Arya grinned like always, her hair tousled from the wind.

"Here we are," Daenerys remarked to Jon and Arya."Harrenhall…that's where it all began."

"It's a horrid place," Arya added and brushed her wind-swept hair out of her face."I was imprisoned here during the War of the Five Kings. This is a cursed place."

"It certainly looks cursed," Jon agreed and frowned deeply as she regarded the grotesque towers touching the sky. "But the same could be said about other places."

"You are quite right," she confirmed and took Jon's hand. "But we are not little children. We shouldn't be frightened by such tales."

She craned her head to look at the sea of tents and pavilions. Not far away from here, right below the ridge they found the familiar banner of House Tyrell, a golden rose on a green background.

Further to the east she spotted the banner of House Lannister: a golden lion on a crimson background.

"It seems Cersei Lannister doubts our sincerity," Jon remarked sarcastically when he saw the men-at-arms parading around the camp. A weary smile crossed his lips as he pointed at the camp not far from the Lannister camp. It belonged to Cersei Lannister's ally, Euron Greyjoy."Well, good for her, but that won't save her."

"Indeed," Arya agreed and gave Jon a grim look. Daenerys knew what Jon tasked her to do, but it was hard to believe that this dainty girl trained as a Faceless Man.

"Come now," Jon added and ruffled his hand through Arya's hair."Tyrion awaits us."

Jon was right. Tyrion awaited them in company of Lord Willas Tyrell, Ser Barristan and Sansa Stark. He donned his finest clothes: a black doublet, a crimson cloak and his silver pin fastened on his small chest.

"We apologize for the delay," Daenerys declared. "Dragons are not slaves."

"Better late than never," Lord Tyrion japed and dipped his head. Daenerys smiled and shifted her attention to Ser Barristan.

"It is wonderful to have you back, your Grace," Ser Barristan declared and leaned down to kiss her hand. His smile was brighter than the sun of Meereen, but then his eyes fell on Jon and his demeanour changed. He grew very silent, his bright blue eyes taking in Jon's appearance.

"And it is a pleasure to meet, your Grace," Ser Barristan added and lowered his head in reverence. Jon smiled, but she noticed his discomfort.

"I thank you, Ser Barristan," Jon replied. "But there is no need for such formalities…at least not here. And I am also pleased to meet you."

Ser Barristan's eyes were wet with tears, though she doubted it was out of sadness. He looked happy, even elated.

I will have to arrange a quite get-together for those two, she noted for later.

"I missed you too," Sansa Stark added and embraced first Arya, then Jon. She did the same with Daenerys, though she couldn't help but to notice the distance between them.

It is no wonder. She hardly knows me.

"It is good to see you again, Lady Sansa," Daenerys remarked and smiled. "Did you have a hard time convincing your Uncles and Lord Royce?"

"There were discussions," Lady Sansa answered. "But it is done. They are prepared to support us. All that remains is to confront Cersei. I hope you studied your lines, your Grace."

Daenerys exhaled deeply and nodded her head in confirmation.

…

Jon

They assembled in the Hall of the Hundred Hearths, though Jon only counted thirty-four or thirty-five. It was Harrenhall's great hall, but for Jon it felt like a grave. In the distance he heard the cackling of the flames, but now and then he felt a cold gust of wind washing over his shoulders. Maybe this is only my anxiety speaking.

It was here were his father opened the tourney of Harrenhall with a song or that was what Lord Reed had told him not long ago.

The crown might not bring him much happiness, but it would be well worth it if it brought him the army he needed to defeat the Night King.

Not all lords and ladies came to pay witness to the Great Council, but that was no surprise to him. Some still believed that it was King Aerys' wildfire that burned the Sept of Baelor. It was no complete lie, but it was Cersei Lannister who used it to kill her enemies.

None of them had a vote, besides the Lord Paramounts, but electing the next King was not the only reason they held this council.

Most of these lords had already taken their assigned seats at the large round table placed in the middle of the room. There was Lord Willas Tyrell, Lord Edmure Tully, Princess Arianne Martell, Sansa Stark and Ser Lomas Estermont, the Castellan of Storm's End. He was also the chosen representative of the Stormlords. They looked grim, but that was no surprise. Ser Barristan dealt them a harsh defeat or so he heard from Lord Tyrion.

At last came Queen Cersei, though not without her loyal guard, a massive man garbed in thick plate armour and a helmet to hide his face. The Mountain.

Cersei Lannister was still a good looking woman, though her golden curls were considerably shorter than the last time. Jon still recalled vividly how proudly she carried her mane of golden curls and fine dresses. Now she wore a black dress, a golden crown resting atop her head.

"We welcome Queen Cersei, late wife of King Robert Baratheon, the First of his Name," Tyrion greeted his sister on their behalf. "And Lord Euron Greyjoy, the Lord of the Iron Islands."

"Soon King," he corrected Tyrion and bared his white teeth. There was something vulgar about him that reminded of the old Theon. "And you must be the Imp. You are as ugly as I expected."

"Be silent," Cersei snapped and truly, Euron Greyjoy fell silent. She held her head high as she approached the table. Cersei Lannister was a vile woman, but nobody could deny that she lacked brazenness.

Then she angled her head to look at Tyrion and the assembled lords and ladies.

"I am Queen Cersei the First of her Name!" she declared in a loud and clear voice and met Daenerys' gaze. "And unlike the Mad King's daughter I was at least born and bred in these lands while she has been running throughout Essos, wreaking havoc and burning cities. Not only that, but her Mad Father's wildfire destroyed the Great Sept of Baelor and killed hundreds of lords and ladies, among them my beloved daughter-in-law Queen Margaery. Not only that, she also brought barbarians into our lands and butchered hundreds of good Westerosi. I have no blood claim like her, but I am the best choice, because I know these lands better than her. That is why I am here."

Jon saw the anger written on Daenerys face, but she remained silent as they had planned.

It was Tyrion who answered on her behalf.

"We heard you," Tyrion said. "But first we need settle another matter…the promised hostage exchange: our brother Ser Jaime Lannister for Lady Asha Greyjoy. There will be no voting before this is done, sister."

"Don't call me that," Cersei Lannister sneered and eyed Jon across the table. "I heard congratulations are in order…the Bastard of Winterfell and the Mad King's daughter, what a fitting match. Well, back to the matter at hand. You shall have your hostage exchange."

Quickly, she called one of her loyal men to her side and gave her instructions. Tyrion did the same and moments later the Kingslayer was brought into the hall.

They gave him fresh clothing, but his grim expression only changed when he spotted his sister alive and well.

Asha Greyjoy didn't look as healthy as Ser Jaime. Her face was gaunt, her shoulder-length brown hair tattered and her clothes dirty. The ghost of a smile showed on her lips when she noticed Theon's presence.

It was the first time he felt a hint of pity for Theon. It was quite clear that his sister went through a terrible ordeal.

"I bring you Asha Greyjoy," Cersei declared and smirked at Jon. "Now I want my brother back. Your father was a fool, but an honourable man. I assume you will keep your word."

"I will," Jon confirmed and waved with his hand. "Ser Jaime is yours."

Ser Jaime was allowed to take a seat next to his sister while Asha was allowed to return in the arms of her brother. They whispered to each other as they returned to their seats.

"It is done," Cersei declared mockingly and grinned at Daenerys. "Now back to the topic at hand. You heard my reasons. I have the support of the Westerlands, the Iron Islands and the Stormlands. Don't allow yourself to be fooled by her beauty…madness resides below these rosy cheeks and King Snow dishonoured himself when he wed the daughter of the man who murdered his Grandfather and Uncle. Robert and I never loved each other, but he achieved one grand thing: he got rid of the Targaryens. That is why I ask you to stand with me and refuse her claim."

Daenerys neither smiled nor frowned.

"I fear you are misinformed, your Grace," she informed Cersei in a calm voice. "I don't intent to take the crown for myself…"

Then she took Jon's hand and squeezed.

"Rhaegar Targaryen's son is the true claimant. Jon Snow was never Eddard Stark's son. He is the son of Lady Lyanna Stark and her husband Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. Lyanna Stark wasn't raped by brother…they loved each other and wed. When she lay dying in her birthing bed she asked of Eddard Stark to protect her son, Aemon Targaryen."

Cersei Lannister didn't answer at once. She blinked once, twice and a third time, before she started to laugh. The assembled Lords and Ladies were equally silent. Only the Stormlords whispered to each other in hushed voices. Ser Lomas Estermont stared at Jon with wide eyes.

"Rhaegar Targaryen?" Cersei asked and chuckled. "Are you taking me for a fool?"

"No," Jon replied and met her gaze. "I can fly a dragon and I am willing to show you if you care to see it, your Grace."

Cersei was about to open her mouth, but Jon interrupted her and shifted his attention to Ser Lomas.

"You have no reason to love me nor do I expect it of you, my lords," Jon said and raised his voice so everyone was able to hear him. "I am sure you think Eddard Stark a traitor, but House Baratheon is extinct, safe for the bastard boy Gendry Waters. As King I would be prepared to legitimize him in exchange for his oath of loyalty…," he continued, but Queen Cersei cut him off.

"Don't listen to the bastard!" she shrieked and slashed her hand on the table. "He is obviously lying. He looks nothing like the Dragon Prince and there are no male children of Robert's body left in this world…" she continued, but stopped when she noticed Lord Brandon's entrance in the hall.

Ser Barristan carried Bran in his arms while Lord Reed, Ser Davos and Gendry followed after him.

"That is what you believed," Bran said and met Queen Cersei's gaze. "You had them all killed, didn't you? All of King Roberts's bastards were smothered on your order, even the last one, a little girl by the name of Barra, fathered on a whore in Chataya's brothel. You were afraid that the world could discover your dark secret…Your children's hair was too golden, wasn't it? My father Eddard Stark found out the truth and confronted you. In the end he lost his head for it. Yet you were wrong…one bastard survived," he added and tilted his head to look at Gendry.

The young man looked uncomfortable as he stepped before the Stormlords, yet Jon felt a hint of relief washing over him when he saw their stunned looks. They recognize the similarities, Jon was sure.

"My Lords," Gendry greeted them and dipped his head. Ser Davos didn't hesitate to add his voice and placed his hand on the young man's shoulder. "This is Gendry Waters, King Robert's last living son."

Ser Lomas Estermont narrowed his blue eyes as she took in the boy's appearance.

"Who was your mother?"

"A tavern girl," Gendry replied almost shyly and brushed his dark hair out of his face. "From Flea Bottom…I didn't know who my father was until Lady Melisandre brought me before King Stannis. I was just as surprised as you, my Lord."

"I was there," a younger man added. He also wore the crest of House Estermont."The boy speaks true. The King recognized him, but he disappeared afterwards. We thought him dead."

"I helped him escape, Ser Andrew," Ser Davos explained with a mild smile.

"Lies! Lies!" Cersei Lannister snapped and demanded their attention. "He looks nothing like Robert. I have his daughter, raised by Jon Arryn himself…How can you even consider choosing the child of a tavern whore of a kingly ward?"

Jon was surprised how much Bran's words affected her. She trembled, her jade eyes blown.

"The Dowager Queen speaks true," Ser Lomas Estermont added and eyed Gendry closer. "He has more of Renly, but he is undeniably of Baratheon blood."

"And a dirty commoner!" the Queen countered heatedly, but received only cold looks in return. Theirs was an allegiance of convenience and nothing more.

"So is Mya Stone," Lord Royce added icily. "And ask you not to invoke Jon Arryn's name. He deserves better than that."

"You thought you were safe, didn't you?" Bran asked Queen Cersei and shifted his attention to Ser Jaime. "You thought that nobody would see you in your lover's embrace. Sadly, I saw you. I was just a boy and didn't even understand what you were doing, but even so you pushed me out of the window, Ser Jaime. Do you recall what you said before you did it? The things we do for love…"

Ser Jaime trembled as he lifted his head to look at Bran.

"You are able to remember our encounter?"

"No," Bran replied and his eyes turned white. "I can see it. I was once Brandon Stark, but now I am the Three-Eyed Raven. I am the last greenseer and I can behold the visions of the past, the present and the future. Call me mad for all I care, but just by looking at you I can see all of your darkest secrets."

"Don't listen to the boy!" Cersei snapped angrily. "He is obviously mad…," she continued, but Bran silenced her.

"Three children shall you have…Gold shall be their crowns and gold their shrouds…and when your tears have drowned you death shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat and choke the life from you….," Bran said in an eerily quiet voice as if he was reciting one of Old Nan's scary stories. "Do you remember what the witch told you?"

Cersei Lannister had grown utterly quiet. She trembled, her jade eyes wide in fear.

Bran didn't smile. He simply stared at her with his empty eyes. Whatever these strange words meant, it managed to frighten the proud lioness.

"And do you remember what she told your friend? No man, but worms will have your maidenhead. Your death is tonight, little one. Can you smell her breath? She is very close. And she was right again, wasn't she? You watched as little Melara Hetherspoon drowned in a well, didn't you?"

"You cannot know that," Cersei Lannister stuttered and stared at Bran. "No one knows…"

"I know so much more," Bran added and shifted his attention to the assembled Lord. "I know the true enemy…the White Walkers and their army of dead men."

Whispering filled the hall, but Jon knew this was his cue. It was time to give Cersei Lannister the deathblow.

"What Brans says is the truth!" he said and raised his voice. "I saw and fought them. They command a massive army of dead men."

"The dead…," the Blackfish repeated. "What do you say?"

Jon exhaled deeply and waved his hand at Ser Davos.

"Will you bring the present?"

"It would be my pleasure."

Moments later Ser Davos returned in company of a dozen men, carrying a wooden box in which they kept the dead man.

Even Cersei Lannister watched in silence as the men opened the buckles of the wooden cage.

Jon stepped forward as the half-rotten creature hopped out of its prison and started to shriek. The dead man was bound, but the smell was terrible. The body was blue and bloated, the sweet smell of death lingering wherever it turned.

No word was spoken, only the soft sound of whispering could be heard.

"Seven Hells!" Jaime Lannister exclaimed. "What is that?"

"We call this creature wight," Jon explained and swept his gaze through the room. "As I said before…the White Walkers can command the dead. Only dragonfire, dragonglass and Valyrian Steel can kill them."

"Dragonglass?" Lord Willas Tyrell asked. "The material you have been harvesting in Dragonstone?"

"Exactly," Jon confirmed. "But he dragons and the dragonglass are not enough. We all need to stand together if we want to confront this common enemy. It is our only way of survival."

"This has to be some sort of trick," Cersei muttered to herself. "It has to be a lie…"

"Are you blind, Cersei?" Jaime implored and rose to his feet. "This…this is a godamn dead man."

"I am not blind!" she gasped and trembled. "It is a trick…a way to pit everyone against me…," she trailed off.

Tyrion used the moment to speak and cleared his throat.

"I think now would be the best time to cast our votes…"

"I agree," Arianne Martell added and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "But first I ask you to remove this thing from our presence."

Daenerys chuckled. "Of course."

"A wonderful idea!" Euron Greyjoy added in an almost elated manner. He grinned lounged in his chair as if he was in a tavern. "Don't you agree, my gracious Queen?"

Cersei gritted her teeth and rose to her feet.

"This was staged from the very beginning! I will not be part of this!" she declared and turned around to look at Ser Jaime. "Jaime, we leave!"

Then she gathered her skirts and was about to move towards the door, but then she noticed that Ser Jaime hadn't move from his position.

"Jaime…," she repeated. "Your Queen commands you to follow her!"

Jaime Lannister didn't move. He simply stared at her, the silence stretching endlessly. At last he turned around to the remaining Lords of the Westerlands.

"I am not my father and I have no right to ask this of you, my lords, but I ask you to support me. I never wanted to be Lord of the Westerlands, but I think now is the right time to cast away my white cloak and take up the inheritance my father intended for me. Maybe I never deserved it, but my sister is no longer able to lead you," he declared and turned back to Jon. "I hold no love for you, but I failed your father…he asked me to protect Princess Elia and her children…it was the last thing he asked of me before he left for the battlefield. I broke that promise as I broke my vow when I slew the Mad King, but I will fight with you if the lords of the Westerlands are prepared to follow me."

Jon watched in stunned silence as the gallery started to rattle with the approving claps of the lords of the Westerlands. It seemed they didn't forget that it was Ser Jaime who fought with them.

"I name you all traitors!" Cersei shrieked pulled up her dress. Then she turned around to look at Euron Greyjoy. He stilled lounged in his chair and had observed the spectacle with a white grin. "What are you waiting for, we are leaving!"

He laughed and hopped to his feet, before following after her, towards the door. His men followed suit, no word leaving their mouths. They followed after the Queen like a parade of death men.

Ser Jaime gave Tyrion a beseeching look.

"Leave her be and I shall cast my vote for you. That is all I ask."

Tyrion swallowed hard and looked at Jon.

Jon nodded his head.

"No harm shall come to her," he promised. For now.

"It seems there is only one claimant left," Daenerys added and broke the silence that had settled over them. "What do you say, my lords and ladies?"

Sansa gave Jon a warm smile.

"You have my vote."

"Mine too," Lord Royce added grimly.

"And mine," Willas Tyrell declared solemnly.

"You have Dorne's vote," Princess Arianne confirmed with a tight smile.

Edmure Tully sighed heavily and nodded his head.

"The Riverlands will fight with you. You have my vote."

"I hold no love for the Targaryens," Ser Lomas Estermont declared. "But too much blood has been shed for this throne. You have my vote…for the sake of King Robert's last living children."

"That leaves Iron Islands without a vote," Tyrion explained. "It stands six to one…I think it is decided."

"Indeed," Daenerys confirmed and smiled warmly. It was a beautiful smile that warmed him from head to toe, but he was unable to relish it. The true enemy was still waiting for them. "And now we fight."

Jon nodded his head.

"Now we fight."

…

Arya

It was strange to feel a stranger's face on her skin, but it would be the last time. Cersei would be her last kill.

This time she chose the face of a simple servant girl and clad herself in the garb of a common kitchen maid. At first she intended to take the face of one of Cersei's handmaids but she decided against it, because even Queen Cersei's death was not worth the life of an innocent girl.

She had followed her all the way here to the Inn at the Crossroads where she decided to make camp with her last remaining loyalists.

It was not hard to mingle among the kitchen maids and it gave her time to observe Cersei.

She was always surrounded by her servants and her guard, the Mountain. She had never seen a more frightening man, but she had a task to fulfil. For Mycah.

Fear cuts deeper than words, she whispered to herself and continued to cut the onions. Now and then she watched the other girls, but they continued to ignore her. They were too engrossed in their talk about the latest fool who had put his cock between their legs.

Why that made her think of Gendy mystified her and she quickly banished these crude thoughts from her mind.

She was the last one to leave and in passing she retrieved a flagon of wine.

As she slipped outside of the kitchen she braced herself for the task lying ahead of her. She had assured Jon that there would be no danger in this task, but that was of course a lie. Arya knew Jon better than anyone. He wouldn't have allowed her to do this if he had known the truth.

Cersei's camp lay not far from the Inn and was heavily guarded. She barely reached her tent when a bulky guardsman stopped her.

"Where are you going, girl?" he inquired in a glum tone.

"Wine, M'Lord," she stuttered and tried to appear intimidated. "My Mistress sends the Queen fine wine."

"Fine wine, eh?" he asked and leaned down to sniff at the open bottle. "That smells like piss. Fuck off!"

"My Mistress heard the Queen likes wine!" she replied sweetly, but avoided his gaze. Commoners avoid looking at people of higher standing. It was one of the first things she learned from Izembaro. "Please go and ask her, good Sir. I shall always be indebted to you."

Her sweet begging changed the man's attitude, though Arya believed it had more to do with her slightly loose cleavage.

He smiled and made his way back to the golden tent placed atop the hill.

Anxiously, Arya waited for his return.

"You may pass, girl!" he replied a heartbeat later and waved his hand at her. Arya should feel relieved, but her stomach coiled painfully as she stepped into the tent.

Cersei's presence was enough to make the skin on her neck prickle. Fear cuts deeper than swords.

"Come here," the hated voice prodded. Cersei was seated in a cushioned chair, a golden cup in her hand. "Fill my goblet."

The Mountain was not far. As always, he stood there like a man frozen in stone.

Arya swallowed hard and made her way to the table, her gaze fixed on her cobbled shoes.

"It is my pleasure, your Grace," she added shyly. Then she lifted the flagon and filled the cup to the brim. It was a slow-working poison and wouldn't show its power until the Queen had left this place. She also used plenty of honey to overtone the taste, though Arya doubted Cersei would notice it. She wouldn't feel any discomfort until the last hour of her life. Arya would have loved to kill her in a more cruel way, but she had to work with what she got. Jon asked her to do it as bloodless as possible.

"What is your name, girl?" Cersei asked her. Slowly, Arya lifted her head and graced the Queen with a hesitant smile. "My name is Lya, your Grace."

"Lya," she repeated and winced. "What a plain name."

Then she lifted her goblet and sipped from the wine. Arya stared as the red liquid rolled down Cersei's lips. It was almost mesmerizing and Arya realized too late that this was the wrong thing to do.

Almost instantly, Cersei spit out the wine.

"What is this?" she asked in a shrieking voice and grabbed Arya's arm. "Did you drop a gallon of honey in my cup?"

Arya tried to keep up her act and lowered her head. She needs to drink more, she thought and watched in growing anxiety as Cersei emptied the goblet on the ground.

"Forgive me…your Grace," she stuttered and stepped backwards. Her sword was hidden beneath her clothing. Thus she pretended to stumbled over her feet and fell to the ground. She even feigned a whimper as she pretended to pull herself back to her feet. As swiftly as possible she slipped her hand beneath her skirt and reached for Needle.

With her sword behind her back she moved towards Cersei.

"You are a clumsy thing," Cersei remarked chidingly and waved her hand at the Mountain. "And you tried to poison me. I don't know who sent you, but I will enjoy this."

Arya tightened her grip on her sword and braced herself for the coming fight. Ever slowly, the Mountain started to move.

"Ser Strong," Cersei she said and smiled brightly. "It is time to pay this little runt a lesson."

The giant lifted his hand in a slow manner, but instead of unsheathing his sword he grabbed Cersei's neck.

Arya froze. She stared in horror as Cersei's face turned blue, her eyes nearly popping out of her head.

She choked and shuddered like a hanged man, before she stopped moving.

"Don't get closer!" she snapped at the giant and lifted her blade. "I warn you!"

The Mountain of a man dropped Cersei's body on the ground, before he lifted his head and started to pull off his helmet.

"A girl was careless," a familiar voice said in a chiding tone. Arya shuddered as she found the familiar face of Jaqen H'ghar looking back at her. He even smiled at her and dipped his head. "But this man is pleased to see her again. The last from your list is gone from this world. The Many-Faced-God received his due from her."

Arya trembled.

"Did you kill her for me?"

Jaqen H'ghar shook his head.

"Not for you, sweet girl. This man was speaking out of concern. A girl can now leave her anger behind her if she wants to return to the living."

"Then why did you kill her?"

"A girl knows how it is done. A name was given."

"I don't understand…," she began, but he silenced her with his bright smile and lowered his head as if to take his leave from her.

"This is our last meeting. Farewell, sweet girl. Valar Morghulis."

Arya nodded her head in understanding.

"Valar Dohaeris…"