Drawing in a breath as she was shaken out of her sleep, Sansa looked around the room with wide eyes. Terror ran down her spine and for the briefest of moments Sansa was certain that she was still under the thrall of Ramsay Snow, stuck in her childhood home while tortured her.

She fought to draw in a breath, dreading to see Ramsay's grinning face looking down at her, yet thankfully he was nowhere in sight.

He was dead, Sansa reminded herself. His head had been taken off by her own father years ago. He could no longer hurt her.

As she got her breathing under control and pushed away the terrors that had visited her in the night, Sansa was greeted by a much more welcome face.

Arya grinned down at her, as she held out Sansa's riding leathers as she practically vibrated in excitement, "Sansa hurry, we have to go." Her little sister dangled Sansa's clothing in front of her, while Nymeria had decided to sit on Lady's exasperated form who had been happily dozing off by Sansa's feet.

Sansa's long suffering direwolf let out a huff and stared into Sansa's eyes from underneath her sister, begging her to hurry up so that the two disturbers of sleep might leave their chambers. "What is going on? What time is it?" Sansa asked, still feeling ruffled by the night terrors.

"It is the hour of the thrush." Arya announced as she crossed her legs as she took up a seat next to her direwolf on Sansa's bed and gave Nymeria a slight push, half-heartedly trying to make her stop harassing her sister. "We have to hurry so that they don't leave without us."

Pulling the covers off, Sansa started to dress even though she wanted to climb back into bed and huddle under the warm covers. It was normal for her to wake up early, yet the night before had been a late one. Even though the feast had been hastily thrown, it seemed that it had gone well with the lords and ladies of the North, who had enthusiastically declared Jon the one true king of the Seven Kingdoms and made their vows to place him on the Iron throne.

Well with one exception. Although Lady Dustin had kept her silence and followed the other lords and ladies in toasting to Jon, and naming him their king, Sansa could see that it had not sat well with the woman to have to name the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen as their rightful king.

"Who are leaving? And where are we going?" Yanking up the trousers, Sansa glanced at Arya, wondering if the Lady of Barrowton was slinking away to her seat of power. She would not have thought that Lady Dustin would have been so foolish as to run away during the hour of the thrush, yet thinks of madder nature had happened.

Yet judging by Arya's excitement gave her a pause.

"Jon is going to show us the dragons. We have to hurry."

Sansa felt her brows rise. "Can it not wait for a few hours?"

Arya glowered at her teasing tone, as she crossed her arms over her chest. "No. You and Robb have seen them thousands of times, and I want to see them too."

Rolling her eyes at the extraction, Sansa finished dressing and grabbed her brush and smiled at her sister as she slowly brushed her hair.

"Really?" Arya asked as if Sansa had declared that she would need an hour more to dress. "Hurry up, or I will go and tell them that you are intending to sleep in." Sansa almost laughed at the smirk that appeared in Arya's face.

"Fine, fine." Sansa rushed to brush her hair and braided it so that it would not end up in a tangle before she even walked out of the gates of Winterfell.

As soon as she was done, Arya jumped from the bed and grabbed her hand, to pull her out of the room. Even though her eyes still itched from sleep, Sansa laughed at her sister's enthusiasm to see the dragons.

Halfway through the busting halls of Winterfell that were filled with servants getting ready for the day, Arya almost broke out into a run, dragging Sansa after her like she was a banner. "Arya, slow down. You might run into someone."

Sansa's words were ignored, as the younger Stark girl followed Nymeria, who had taken up the lead. As they made it out of the castle, Arya let her go and rushed into the middle of the courtyard, where Robb and Bran were standing with the true king of the Seven Kingdoms.

She was still having a hard time believe that Jon was now as tall her father and she could feel her heart flutter as she watched a slow smile spread across his handsome face as Ghost leaned against his legs, relishing having him back by his side.

Jon let out a laugh as Arya ran into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Sansa is almost here; can we go now?"

It was then, Sansa realized that she had come to a stop and was standing where Arya had left her. Sansa felt a flush rush over her face, as Lady bumped into her, urging her to move forward. "Wait for me."

A few stands of red her flew across her face as she ran over to them. "You could have waited, you know." Directing her words to Arya, Sansa could feel Jon's eyes on her, and she had to force down, the flush that wanted to creep up her cheeks.

Would she ever be able to be normal around Jon again? Would she ever be able to look at him without her blushing and having the urge to stare at him?

Arya shrugged her shoulders with a grin on her face as she let Jon go. "You should move faster."

"Can we go now?" Bran piped up, sounding annoyed at their bickering. Bran turned to look at Jon. "They are always like this. They keep arguing about nothing."

Jon let out a sound that could have been a snort. "Bran is right, we should go." Sansa watched him, daring Jon to say something as he glanced at her, trying to keep the grin of his face.

Walking towards the gate, Sansa wrapped her hand around Jon's elbow and smiled up at him. "I am glad you are back." All through the feast, Sansa had not had the opportunity to speak with him, as the lords had fluttered around their king, all wanting to speak with him, about either the war that they were heading into, or sing praises of the virtue of their daughters.

She would not lie, it bothered her. Watching the daughters of the lords bat their lashes at him made her belly coil with jealousy.

Behind them, she could hear Arya and Bran bicker as Robb tried his best to get them under control.

"So am I, even though it is just for a little while." His smile made her heart flutter again, and even with the scar that ran across his right eye, she was sure that he was the most handsome man in the world as the growing light of the sun caressed his face, making his dark eyes look like they were coals.

Her eyes flickered back to the scar on his face. "What happened?"

Jon seemed to understand what she was asking him immediately. "I will tell you later." His smile turned tight, clearly holding back emotion.

Something was wrong.

Holding back her questions, Sansa nodded as she looked up at a hilltop that Jon's dragons had claimed for their own. As they walked, she felt the hilt of one of his swords bump into her, causing her eyes to dart down to them. When Jon and her father had arrived back from the crypts, she had noticed that the leather coverings that he had wrapped around the hilts and pommels had been taken off, revealing the sword's identities to the world.

Yet with the shock of having seen three large, living dragons back in the world seemed to have Blackfyre and Darksister invisible to the lords of the North.

Sansa could not wait for the moment when the lords that had now sworn themselves to Jon, found out that their king had reclaimed the swords of his ancestors, along with having hatched three dragons back into the world.

They walked in silence, feeling the brisk air of the North dance around them as they listened to Arya and Bran bicker while Robb tried to calm them down, and Sansa could feel a sense of home that she had not felt in a long time.

Nearing the hill top, Sansa found herself staring up at the three dragon in wonder and she was having a hard time believing her own eyes. It seemed impossible that they were the same creatures that Jon had hatched only five years ago. "They have grown so much." Sansa breathed out, hearing the amazement filling her own voice as she watched Algernon raise his head, the blood red horns on his head gleaming in the light of the rising sun as he lay with his siblings in their nest.

"Aye, they have." Jon agreed, as Illyrion shrieked in excitement at seeing Jon walk towards them, likely walking up every living soul in both Winterfell and Wintertown.

Bran and Arya's bickering finally fell silent, and as she sneaked a look over her shoulder, she could see her younger siblings gaze up at the dragons, with wide eyes and opened mouths. As she turned to look away from her siblings, she could feel a hot breath on her skin and disturb the few locks that had escaped her braid.

Illyrion's hopeful golden eyes were on Jon as the dragon sniffed the air as he offered his master his nose, begging for a scratch.

Jon let out a laugh and indulged Illyrion, as Arya piped up. "Can I touch him?" The glint in her eyes could only be described as possessed as she seemed to flitter from one leg to the other, hardly able to contain the excitement.

"Of course." Jon gestured for Arya to come forward, while Bran clutched at Robb's hand, a lot more cautious around the large creatures, and as Arya rushed forward, he remained by beside Robb.

Watching as Arya reached where they were standing, Sansa found herself admiring her little sister's bravery as there was only the slightest hesitation in her movements, as she reached out and touched Illyrion's pale scales.

The dragon cooed as she gave him a scratched, Arya let out a laugh. "He is so warm."

"Aye." Jon laughed as Earendil sniffed and cooed at Sansa and begged her for attention. "Dragons usually are." Quickly giving into the emerald dragon's adorable begging, Sansa released Jon's elbow, immediately feeling the loss of his warm form.

As she petted Earendil, she watched as Jon walked over to where Bran and Robb were still standing. Jon took Bran's hand in his and slowly he led Bran closer to the dragons. "Come on, they will not hurt you. I promise."

Bran looked up at Jon before nodding, letting go of Robb and allowing Jon to lead him to Arya and Illyrion. Sansa felt another smile appear on her face as she watched Jon with Bran and Arya. "For all their size, they are very gentle." Jon told them as the smallest dragon, who still loomed over them, large enough to for a full-grown man to walk down his gullet, turned his large golden eyes towards him.

There was still a hint of fear in Bran's eyes as he watched Illyrion looking so hopefully at him, hoping that he would join in on scratching his chin, and it seemed that Jon had caught on to it as well. "Illyrion, down."

The command was clear, and the pale dragon was quick to follow, lying flat on the ground, his chest, neck and head all touching the grass. Bran's mouth was opened at seeing the dragon listen so easily to the command, the fear in his eyes lessening. "See, he won't hurt you."

Bran reached out one hand still clutching Jon's, and Sansa could see the happy smile light up his face as his hand touched the white dragon's snout.

"You know," Robb's voice whispered in her ear, her elder brother having closed the distance between them without her having even noticed, with a smirk on his face. "I used to think that you were impossible to read, yet it seems that just having Jon here is countering the issue nicely."

Sansa sent him an unimpressed look. "I have no idea what you mean." Turning her attention to scratching Earendil, Sansa intended to ignore the teasing of her brother.

"Of course you don't." Robb said, the sarcasm dripping of his voice. He opened his mouth to say more, only to close it as the emerald dragon huffed out smoke from his nostrils right at Robb, causing Sansa to giggle at the bewildered look that appeared on his face.

"Who is a good dragon?" Sansa asked Earendil who let out another coo as Jon, Arya and Bran all laughed at seeing Robb's expression.

"What happened?" Arya asked as she ran over to them, grinning ear to ear as she reached up to Earendil.

"Oh, nothing really." Sansa smiled at Robb who was now nodding and sending the dragon a suspicious look. They spent a few more moments petting the emerald dragon, before Sansa could see Arya's eyes flicker to Algernon, who was sniffing at Ghost.

"Come on, lets greet Algernon before he gets lonely." Sansa and Arya left Robb with Earendil, who now turned his attention to the heir to Winterfell, demanding that he shower him with pets and scratches.

Algernon spotted them, and quickly lowered his gigantic head with a soft coo escaping him. "Vow," Arya exclaimed as she looked at Sansa, who had to agree with her sister. Algernon had certainly grown from the last time Sansa had seen him in the grove in the Wolfswood. The black dragon had gone from being the size of a war horse to almost be the size to swallow one in a single bite. "I knew Jon would choose him to be his mount. I knew it."

Out of the corner of her eye, Sansa could see Jon stiffen for a moment. He glanced at Sansa, before he looked away, to where a tall figure was walking up the hill.

Recognizing her father, Sansa turned to look at Jon once again. He did not think that she was afraid or angry that he now rode the same dragon that the Dragon queen had chosen, did he?

She hoped that he didn't. Sansa hadn't been sure how to feel at first when she had seen that Jon had chosen Algernon to be his mount when he had arrived at Winterfell, yet after a few hours, she had come to understand his choice.

While both Earendil and Illyrion were both fearsome in their own right, the lords would expect Jon to chose the largest of the three, and the one who bore such striking resemblance to Balerion the Black Dread.

She would have to talk to him and assure him that she could never think that he was anything like Daenerys Targaryen. That just because he now rode the same dragon as the Dragon queen had once done, she knew that he was nothing like his father's sister.

"Father look." Arya called to the lord of Winterfell as soon as he made the climb up the hill as Arya's grin lit up her face as the sun cast its rays on them, making the dragon's scales shine and glitter like precious stones. "They like us."

"I am sure they do, sweetling." Ned Stark walked closer, followed by his direwolf, who seemed a little weary of something so big near her pups, mirroring the look the lord of Winterfell was sending the dragons. He then turned his eyes to Bran, who had lost his fear and was now gigging as he scratched Illyrion, and then their lord father turned his eyes to Robb who looked torn between bafflement and amusement as Earendil was continuing to demand pets from him.

"Can we go flying Jon?" Arya turned her attention to the king, her eyes wide with excitement and hope as her hand stilled on Algernon's snout. "Oh, please, please, please."

A strangled sound came from their father, causing Sansa to fight against a snort of laugher at the undignified sound.

"You are going to have to ask your lord father." Jon looked like he wanted to smile at Arya.

Arya's eyes widened again, and she rushed over to lord Stark and grabbed his hand firmly, shaking it as she begged him to allow her to go flying.

Robb was snickering while their father sighed. "I am not sure that it is safe."

Now Bran joined Arya in their begging. "But father, Uncle Benjen was allowed, as was the large hairy man. Why can't we?"

Sansa had to force down a cackle of laughter that wanted to escape him at Bran's way to describe Tormund.

"Benjen and Tormund are men grown." Lord Eddard said firmly sending Bran a reprimanding look for his accurate description of the Freefolk clan leader. "And Jon's dragon does not have a saddle."

"Men grown?" Arya looked affronted, her face twisting in disgust. "Rhaenyra Targaryen rode Syrax when she was seven." Arya pointed out, holding herself tall, hands on her hips as if that was everything their father needed to hear to be convinced.

"Princess Rhaenyra was a dragonrider herself, and she had a saddle. Or so maester Luwin claims." The lord of Winterfell said firmly. He looked up at Jon, as if looking for him to say anything to help to let Arya down gently. However, it seemed that Jon was in no mood to do so.

"Uncle, it would be fine if I take either Arya or Bran up one at a time." Sansa watched as their faces brightened at his words and she found herself smiling along with them. "That way I can have them in front of me and make sure that they are alright."

Lord Eddard Stark looked troubled and looked ready to say something, and Sansa felt herself compelled to intervene. "Oh, can I go as well? I have always wanted to see what it is like."

"Of course." Jon spoke without a beat, a huge grin on his face and his dark eyes shining.

Another sigh from her father reached her ears. "Fine, Arya you can go with Sansa, and Bran you can go with Robb."

Arya shrieked with happiness and hugged her father around his waist. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." Then she whipped around and slammed into Jon. "Let's go."

"Hey I want to go first." Bran said with a pout on his lips.

"I am older."

"Robb is oldest, so I should go first." Crossing his arms he sent her a sour look.

Robb grabbed Bran's shoulder. "Ladies first." As Bran pouted again, Robb winked up at Jon with a huge smirk on his face making Sansa wanted to drag him back to Winterfell by his ear and scold him like the child he was behaving as.

Sansa could see a lot of teasing and japing at her expense in the foreseeable future.

"Can we go now?" Arya asked, her impatience showing clearly in her tone.

"Arya." Their father spoke sternly. "You are to listen to everything Jon tells you. Do you understand?"

Arya sent her father a look that only she could get away with. "Of course, now can we go?" she whirled around and looked at Jon with a huge smile on her face. "I want to go fast; can we go fast?"

A slow smile spread over Jon's face. "Aye we can go fast." There was a lightness in him now, and Sansa could almost feel like something was going to happen.

A shriek echoed though the morning air as Earendil stopped hounding Robb for a scratch, and turned gracefully away from them, moving a little further down the hill before he roared and charged forward and hurled himself into the air.

Watching the emerald dragon take to the sky, Sansa felt herself filled with wonder at the sight. The rising sun made his horns shine prettily like they were made of beaten bronze as they watched him fly above the seat of house Stark.

Dragging her eyes of the dragon and back down again, Sansa sucked in a breath of shock at the sight that greeted her.

Her eyes were wide, and Sansa was sure that her jaw had hit the ground as she watched Jon climb onto Illyrion's back as if it was a completely normal thing to do. Her shock was so great that she hardly even noticed Algernon take off with a roar of his own, as she watched Jon settle on to the pale dragon's back.

"Come on then." He smiled at their confused and stunned faces, as Algernon and Earendil rose higher into the skies.

"But I thought-." Arya called out loudly, gesturing for Algernon, who was now high in the air chasing after Earendil.

"I thought you said you wanted to go fast?" Jon called back, a huge grin on his lips as gestured for her and Sansa to climb on after him.

Sansa could only blink up at him as Arya rushed forward, not needing to be told again. She started to climb up Illyrion's back, the dragon waiting patiently as Arya eagerly made her way up. Still staring at Jon, Sansa walked as if spellbound to them, finally managing to close her mouth as the shock of what she was seeing still lingering over her, like a raincloud.

Illyrion cooed softly as Sansa reached his side, his golden eyes staring at her as he kept his shoulder lowered to the ground. Not wanting the dragon to have to stay in what Sansa was sure was an uncomfortable position, she grabbed at the nearest scale and started to haul herself up.

It was a difficult climb, and she wasn't sure how Jon made it look so easy. Then a hand came into her vision, and she looked up to see Jon's face. Grasping the offered hand, Sansa was grateful that he pulled her up, allowing her to sit behind him. "You are enjoying this aren't you?" She asked as she wrapped her arms around his waist, feeling the warmth radiate off him even though his black leather jerkin.

Jon said nothing, only continued to grin at her over his shoulder, making her stomach flip and flutter once again.

"Let's go." Arya yelled from in front of Jon, as she grabbed one of the spikes that rose up from Illyrion's back. Clutching Jon even harder around his waist as the pale dragon shrieked in excitement that he shared with Arya, and Sansa was sure that her grip was making it harder for Jon to breath, yet he said nothing.

Without a word of command or any hint of an order from Jon, Illyrion pulled back before he pushed himself of the ground, creating a thundering sound with the spreading of his wings and for a half a heartbeat, Sansa felt as if she were weightless.

In an instance, her father and brothers grew small as they stared after them on the ground, alongside the direwolves. Pushing herself flush against Jon's back, Sansa placed her cheek against his shoulder as the cold wind carried Arya's excited breath of a laughter.

Illyrion quicky reached his siblings and took the lead as they headed away from Winterfell. To the west, the sun was painting the sky pink and purple, and Sansa let out a breath of wonder. "Oh, wow that is beautiful."

The sun was casting its rays on the pine trees of the Wolfswood to the North, and the vast fields that had been cultivated in the last five years to the west and south. To the east, she could see herds of woolly cattle, grazing further away from the castle, being guarded by the black and tan dogs that lord Flint liked to breed to guard life stock.

Just behind them, Algernon and Earendil flanked their sides, like a dedicated guard, while Arya laughed and smiled happily as if all her dreams had just come true.

Illyrion's wings carried them further away from Winterfell, and soon they reached the eastern headwaters of the White knife. The river below them ran wild and grey from north to south, raging towards the currents as it headed to the Bite.

The pale dragon turned gracefully, changing their direction from east to north, and quickly the ground changed from almost flat plains to a rockier surface and the banks of the river rose to create cliffs and gorges.

"Hold on." Jon called before Illyrion shrieked and tucked his wings close to his body.

As Illyrion shot downwards, Sansa could barely hear Arya's breath shouts of excitement over the wind and rushing of blood in her ears. Quickly approaching the raging river, Sansa felt her belly jump to her throat as the dragon righted himself, no longer aiming right at the waters below them.

Sansa let out a laugh as she clung to Jon, as the pale dragon twisted and turned over the river. Turning to look behind them, Sansa could see that Earendil and Algernon were hot on their heels as they chased the smaller brother through the gorge.

With a few flaps of his wings, Illyrion rose higher in the sky, soaring over where the river cut itself through the lands of the North.

Not too far away, Sansa could see a huge lake, surrounded by trees. The sun made the waters sparkle and shimmer as Illyrion slowed down and lowered his flight, before he landed gently on the shore.

The pale dragon lowered himself to the ground, allowing them to make their way of his back. Arya was all smiles as petted Illyrion's nose while Jon helped Sansa back to the ground.

"Hey, Arya could you watched Illyrion for me for a few moments? I need to talk to Sansa." Jon asked.

Arya nodded eagerly and quickly turned her attention back to Illyrion, who indulged in well-earned scratches on the chin.

Sansa placed her small hand on his elbow again, her face flushed from the flight as they walked a little further upriver. "How? I thought that-." She cut herself off, trying to search for words. "How did you get…"

She looked up at the two dragons still in the air trying to gather her thoughts into a coherent speech. "You arrived on Algernon."

"Aye." Jon smiled at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling as they walked a little further away from Arya and Illyrion.

"Jon." Sansa stared at him; how could he be so calm about this? This was a completely unheard of in the history of the Targaryens. Not one of Jon's ancestors had ridden more than one dragon. Hells, even Viserys I and his son Aegon II had both lost their dragons and never claimed another. "How?"

"I don't know." He answered with a shrug, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Jon, there has never been a Targaryen in Westerosi history to have more than one dragon to ride."

"I know." They walked slowly up the shore, making sure to stay in visual range to Illyrion and Arya. "Uncle Aemon and I talked about it when I met him five years ago at the Wall. I honestly don't know why I can ride them all, I just can."

Sansa felt her mind start to rush trying to think of any and all the possibilities that this new revelation held for Jon. "So, you can ride them all?"

"Aye." Jon nodded.

Sansa shook her head at him, only Jon could act so nonchalantly about something so mindboggling, instead of revelling in the fact that he was the first Targaryen that ride more than one dragon.

"Sansa, I wanted to speak with you about something." Jon said before she could start analysing why he could ride all three dragons any further. "Last night, your father spoke to me about a betrothal between us."

"Did he show you the letter?" She asked as she felt a rush of cold gather under her skin. Fear, she realized. Was he about to reject the offer? Let her down gently as was his way.

Pushing those thoughts away the best she could, she watched as Jon swallowed hard as he nodded. "Aye," Sansa saw the burning rage in his eyes. "He did."

Sansa's hand travelled down his arm until it reached his hand. "Jon, I understand if you don't want to marry me. After everything that has happened, I understand." She stared intently at their joined hands as if they held the secrets to all of life's mysteries. Sansa could understand that after everything they had gone through in their last lives that he would not want to marry her. "I will tell father that it was my idea to back out-."

"Sansa." Jon gave her hand a light squeeze. "I told him that I wanted to talk to you before I gave him an answer. I wanted to make sure that this was something that you wanted and was not something that you are being forced into. I don't want you to be forced into yet another marriage that you don't want."

A slow smile appeared on her face as she looked right into his eyes. "Thank you, Jon. However, I asked father to present you with the betrothal."

Jon blinked, looking stunned. "What?"

As she repeated her statement, Jon asked. "Why?"

"Because you would never force me to do something that I would not want to do." She glanced back at their hands for a half a heartbeat before looking back up, gathering all her courage before she spoke, knowing that she needed to do this. Jon deserved to know the truth. She owed it to him. "And because I…because I love you."

Jon blinked at her, his eyes wide with shock and he looked like his head had been invaded by very loud bees that had taken up buzzing around between his ears. Then ever so slowly, he leaned closer to her as Sansa's heart leapt in her throat.

He was so close that she could count the lashes of his eyes and just as their lips were about to touch.

"Are you done? Can we go flying again? I want to go back up." Arya's voice made them jolt apart as if they had just been doused by freezing water. Sansa wanted to be annoyed with her little sister but when he heard Jon let out a huff of a laugh, she found herself giggling along.

"In a moment." Jon called back, sending Arya a smile as she stood with hands on her hips while Illyrion looked at them with a curious look.

"What will you be telling father?" Sansa asked, her voice faltering a little.

"That I would be honoured to marry you." Jon rubbed a small circle with his thumb on the back of her hand. "If you will have me."

Sansa smiled and nodded, feeling the overwhelming happiness flood over her. "I will have you, Jon Targaryen."


The seat of house Oakheart rose against the clear blue skies of the Reach, towering over the trimmed oaks the castle was named after. It´s grey stone towers rising high would likely be impressive to lesser lords, however to Kevan they seemed rather lacklustre compared to the Rock.

The second son of Tytos Lannister gripped the reins of his horse tighter in his hand as he rode through the encampment of his brother, with his own contingent surrounding him. Everywhere he looked the red and golden banner of house Lannister surrounded him, the proud lion roaring in fury at their enemies.

Riding into the courtyard of Old Oak, Kevan was greeted by a young man clad in a fine red doublet, perfectly matching the banners of house Lannister, covering every available surface.

"Ser Kevan, lord Tywin is waiting for you in the lord´s solar." The boy bowed deeply as Kevan dismounted from his horse. "He has instructed me to direct you there at once."

Nodding, Kevan glanced around the courtyard. His brother´s men littered the castle walls and young boys cleaned weapons and brushed down destriers. Among the Lannister red, a few other colours could be seen, black and grey of house Banefort, the brown and black of house Crakehall and the pretentious purple unicorn of lord Brax were all there.

As he followed the young man, out of the corner of his eyes he caught a flash of blue, however it was gone as soon as he saw it.

Putting it from his mind, Kevan trod on, determined not to make his lord and brother wait for him.

Quickly, Kevan was led through the corridors that were covered with tapestries telling the story of house Oakheart. It was a surprise to Kevan that his brother had not had them all torn down after taking the castle and had them replaced with the lion banners. His brother was never a man for half measures.

The boy knocked on the door, and Kevan could hear his brother´s voice through the door, calling for them to enter.

His brother was seated behind the desk, quill in hand as he wrote a letter. Kevan barely got a glance in his direction before when Tywin spoke, he was quick to recognize the pleased undertone in the older man´s voice. "Good, you are here. We have much to discuss."

Tywin gestured for him to take a seat, then without ceremony, continued to write his letter, allowing silence to fall between them.

Sitting in the chair as straight as he could, Kevan waited wordlessly for the lord of Casterly Rock to finish.

When the Warden of the West placed the quill down on the desk and turned his green and golden eyes on him, Kevan kept his tongue still, waiting for the older man to speak.

"I take it your excursion to Red Lake was profitable." The firm stare of his brother bored into Kevan´s own green eyes and not for the first time, he felt like Tywin was reading his mind.

"It was." Kevan confirmed fighting a smile of contentment. "The castle is now in our hands, and I took the liberty of raiding their resources and adding to our own and lady Crane is being escorted back to the Rock by my son, Lancel, along with her sisters and mother."

Tywin nodded; the movement so small that it was barely noticeable. "Clegane has reached the borders of Highgarden lands and I have instructed him to raid every town and hovel he can find."

The anger in Tywin´s glare made his eyes look like wildfire. "If the Tyrell´s think that they can take the Iron throne, then they are mistaken."

Nodding his agreement, Kevan almost felt pity for Mace Tyrell. "Has there been any word from the capital?"

Tywin halted his writing for a heartbeat. His green and golden eyes were hard and unyielding. "I have heard that Cersei and Joffrey have escaped the Red Keep, yet Jaime is still being held captive."

Kevan stared at his brother, feeling relief that Cersei and her boy were at least not in the hands of the oaf Robert Baratheon any longer, yet dread at the thought that poor Jaime was still in the man´s grasp. "Robert will take his anger out on Jaime."

Tywin´s nostrils flared with rage. "He already has if you recall. That fool Robert has already mangled my son´s hand." At his brother´s words, Kevan was sure he could hear the faint sound of the Rains of Castamere ring in his ears. Whatever Tywin had in store for Robert and house Baratheon would make the fate of house Reyne and Tarbeck pale in comparison.

"We will get him back." Kevan said, allowing his confidence to shine through in his words. If Tywin wanted something done, then it would done. "And place your grandson on the throne before long."

A serving man entered the room and bowed deeply before Tywin. "My lord, Ser Desmond is here as you requested."

"Good, show him in."

Ser Desmond Redwyne strode into the room, a handsome blue and dark red cloak around his shoulders and a belt wrapped around his now portly belly. "Lord Tywin, Ser Kevan, it is good to see you both again in good health." Despite the war ravaging his homeland, the knight of house Redwyne seemed more than a little jubilant as he gave the brothers a bow.

"And you, Ser Desmond." Kevan greeted as his brother remined seated and silent behind his desk. As they took their seats, Ser Desmond directed his words at Tywin.

"My cousin has agreed to your terms, lord Tywin, and house Redwyne is most happy to throw in its strength with yours." The pleased glint in Tywin´s eyes as he nodded at the knight.

"Good, I am sure that lord Paxter has already called his banners and sails."

"Of course, of course." Ser Desmond nodded. "My cousin is as good as his word and I have received word from lord Mathis Rowan, and he has sworn his sword and banners to our cause."

"What about the lords of the Sheild Islands?" Kevan asked Ser Desmond. "Have you heard from them?" Having the lords of the four isles would be a great boon to house Lannister, especially now that they had the Redwyne fleet well in hand.

"I have not heard from them." Ser Desmond admitted hesitantly. "But they shall not be hard to convince, I am sure. Poor lords, the lot of them, offer them gold and protection from the Ironborn and they shall be eating out of your hand in less time than it takes Mace Tyrell to sit down at a feast and start stuffing his mouth." Kevan knew that his brother would have little trouble with the lords of the Shield Islands, if they would not come back into the fold with promises of gold and titles, they would be brought low by lord Tywin of house Lannister.

Kevan looked at his brother, who remained quiet as a stone, until. "Thank you, Ser Desmond, that will be all for now. I shall send for you later."

When the man was gone from the room, Tywin spoke quietly and calmly to his brother. "I have thought of a suitable match for your daughter, Janei."

Kevan felt his heart beat in his chest as excitement rushed through him. Finally, he would be rewarded for his years long service to his brother by a good match for one of his children. The names of suitable candidates floated around in his head.

Would his brother promise Janei the Arbor or Highgarden? Or perhaps Tywin had hoped to wait and marry his own niece to Robb Stark, the future lord of the North when the time came to bring house Stark back into the fold.

While Kevan would not like having his only daughter so far away from him, having his daughter as the future lady of Winterfell was nothing to scoff at.

"I have decided to promise your daughter to Arthor Oakheart." Kevan blinked owlishly at his brother.

"Arthor Oakheart?" He asked as the excitement fled. He could understand Tywin´s decision to marry Genna´s son, Cleos Frey to the Derry girl. Cleos was a halfwit like his father and his marriage gave him a claim on the now much less impressive Darry lands, and it would keep him and his grandfather happy.

Janei on the other hand was a true Lannister, born and bred to be a great lady. She deserved to be married to an heir to one of the great houses.

"Yes." Tywin stared at him, his eyes hard and unyielding. "He is the heir to house Oakheart and the future lord of his castle. He shall leave for the Rock under guard, where he shall wed your daughter. And when your son returns to the Reach after having secured lady Crane and her kin in the Rock, he is to marry lord Rowan´s daughter and heir."

Goldengrove and Old oak. Those were to be the holding of Lancel and Janei? Kevan could see Tywin´s reasoning. Who better to guard your borders than blood?

Nodding, Kevan resigned himself to his brother's commands. "What about Red Lake and lady Crane?"

Tywin studied Kevan for a moment. "She shall be betrothed to your son Willem when the time comes. This way we can be assured that our borders are save."

Just like that. Three of Kevan´s children had been promised to heirs and heiresses, yet Kevan felt a bitter taste in his mouth. These matches were good. There would be no arguing with that, and they were important to the war effort.

Yet they were not as good as Kevan had envisioned.

However, he would do as his older brother and lord commanded. "I am honoured brother."

Tywin let of a soft hum. "Lord Paxter will be sailing to secure Oldtown and the Hightower. That will keep a lot of the Reach forces occupied while we secure our position here."

Kevan raised a brow. Lord Paxter Redwyne, while ambitious, was no fool. "And what did you promise lord Redwyne to sail to Oldtown and seize the city?"

"Myrcella and Cersei will marry lord Paxter´s sons. While Jaime will take the man´s daughter for wife when we free him." Kevan bit his tongue. He loved his niece, he did. Yet he could not help but to find it odd that lord Paxter would desire that one of his sons marry a woman who had already had three children of her own, when a maiden as pure as the gold under the Rock was available for his own son and heir.

It is her crown. Kevan thought. The man wants her only for her status as the Queen mother and her Lannister name.

"I want you to ride to Brightwater Keep at first light." Tywin spoke as he grabbed his quill again and started to write something down. "I need you to take the castle and raid it. Before sending the hostages back to the Rock."

"Of course, brother." Kevan nodded. "Will you be sending Clegane up the Roseroad?"

Tywin stopped his scribbling and looked up at him. "No. He shall stay in Highgarden lands, as I said."

"When Robert hears of our stay in the Reach, he will rush to do battle with us. And he will likely take the Roseroad."

Tywin nodded and turned his eyes back to the letter he was writing again. "I am confident that he will. And he will be harried the moment he passes through the borders of the Reach."

Kevan frowned at his brother. "Has the younger Clegane brother finally shown himself and volunteered?"

"No. The Hound has yet to surface. However, it seems that I have finally found use for our father´s folly in marrying Genna into house Frey." Tywin grabbed a map of the Reach and placed it in front of Kevan and pointed at Bitterbridge. "Lord Frey´s bastard grandson, Aemon Rivers has left the Twins and will arrive shortly with his men. They are to harass the Baratheon men."

"You trust a Frey with something so important brother?" Kevan felt the disbelief crawl up his throat.

Tywin only scoffed. "The bastard will be of more use to me here than hiding under his mother´s skirts. And even if he manages to kill a few Baratheon men, then he will have been more useful than Genna´s husband."

A young serving man entered the room quietly and placed a bundle of letters on the table before he was ordered out by Tywin, who grasped the first letter in the pile and opened it.

As he read, Kevan could see a satisfied glint in the man´s green and golden eyes. "What is it brother?"

"News from Longtable. It seems that Robert´s greed in the Rebellion has been rather fortunate for us. Lord Orton has raised his banners in support of King Joffrey and is riding against Bitterbridge."