Jaime watched Cersei stare at the undead soldier hanging from Gregor Clegane's sword, clawing at her. Qyburn's eyes were wide as he watched Bronn put a torch to it, igniting the wight. It seemed to collapse off the sword, the exposed bones not held by rotted skin falling away from it.
Euron walked over, picking up the wight's skull. "What is dead may never die," he whispered before laughing. "Maybe the North is more interesting than I thought."
"And they say there's an army of these things moving south?" asked Cersei.
"At least a hundred thousand men, not counting the giants or animals among them."
Euron let the skull drop from his hand as he stood. "What else is there?"
"They're all lead by White Walkers and their Night King," Jaime told them. "Everything but dragonglass and valyrian steel shatters against them. Nothing else stops them."
"Dragons might help that," Euron said with a nod.
Cersei gripped the arm of her chair. "And that whore's surely sided with the bastard king."
"It's his son, Cersei," said Jaime. "I know it."
"So you say," she sneered. "And what are we supposed to do? Stand aside? Let them take the throne along with our heads?"
"He's asked us to help, but understands our reluctance. He's offered an armistice."
"So we just sit and wait?"
A hint of fondness colored Jaime's smirk. "He said we can decide who sits on the throne once we're sure it will still exist. If we agree to stand down then he's agreed to do the same."
"And what of the dragon whore?"
He seemed to contemplate his answer, but knew this might be a test if Qyburn's little birds already knew. "He didn't say as much, but I believe he had gone to meet her when I arrived."
"Do you think he's stepped down for her?" she asked, as if that would decide her thoughts.
Though uncertain, Jaime shook his head. "I doubt it. He seems intent on leading them through the Long Night."
Cersei thought for a moment. "Could we trust his word for an armistice?"
"He's still Ned Stark's son," Jaime offered with a shrug.
Cersei nodded, turning her gaze to Euron. "Do as I said. Send word once it's done."
Euron's pale lips curved into a grin as he gave an exaggerated bow. "As you wish, my queen."
"Write to the bastard king," Cersei told Qyburn. "Tell him he'll have his armistice. We'll even offer his armies passage through our lands so he can let them defend the North. Say we'll prepare a small company of men to join them once we can, as a sign of good faith."
"At once, your grace." Qyburn bowed his head, turning to flee the secluded courtyard.
Jaime eyed her as she moved to pour herself a glass of wine, leaving Bronn to take the wight away. "Should I prepare the men?"
Taking up her glass, Cersei turned to him with a smirk. "I always knew you were the stupidest Lannister." She took a sip as his brow sank. "The Targaryens and Starks have united against us and you want to fight along side them. Are you a traitor or an idiot?"
"You saw it with your own eyes," he said walking toward her. "You saw a dead man try to kill us."
"And I saw it burn," said Cersei. "If dragons can't stop them, if Dothraki and Unsullied and every Northern house can't stop them, how would our armies make a difference?"
"This isn't about noble houses," she said shaking his head in disbelief. "This is about the living and the dead."
"And I intend to stay amongst the living," said Cersei. "Let the bastard king and his queens defend the North. We stay here where we've always been, and while they battle the monsters we take back the lands that belong to us."
"And then what?"
"And then we rule."
"When the fighting in the North is over someone wins, you understand that don't you?" He said as though speaking to a child. "If the dead win, they march south and kill us all. If the living win, and we've betrayed them, they march south and kill us all!"
"The Targaryens and Starks already want to kill us all. Most of them will die in the-"
"They've already killed thousands of our men. Their dragons turned our men to ash. We barely have a hold on the two kingdoms loyal to us. We can't beat them and her dragons."
"They're not invincible," Cersei shrugged, taking a drink.. "One of our men used Qyburn's scorpion to injure one. Once we have more of them they'll fall from the sky before they ever near our men."
"What men? Our armies are broken. We don't have the support of the other houses."
"No, we have something better," she set her glass down with a grin, "we have the Iron Bank."
Jaime stared at her, confused and pained. He knew he would have to do it. He'd said as much, but he wanted to believe, to give her a chance to be better. She wasn't.
"You should have listened more when father talked about the importance of gold," she told him as patronizing as their father ever was. "I know it's boring for you. You just wanted to hunt and ride and fight, but I listened, I learned. Highgarden bought us the most powerful army in Essos." Sinking into her chair she looked to him as though victorious. "The Golden Company. Twenty thousand men, horses… elephants, I believe."
"The Golden Company is not here, they're in Essos. How is…" He voice trailed into a sigh. "Greyjoy."
Cersei grinned. "He'll ferry the Golden Company back here to help us win the war for Westeros."
"You plotted with Euron Greyjoy without telling me, the commander of your armies."
"And you failed to do as I told you and kill the bastard king."
"You sent me to meet with him." Had she truly gone insane? "To see the proof he offered for myself."
"I sent you there as the only man I thought I could trust to do what was needed. I sent you to meet with him so you could take his head."
"You'd have me die there in the North?"
Cersei shook her head as if he truly were the idiot she seemed to think. "You could have had one of your men hide away and do it. You could have found a way if you wanted."
Jaime walked to her, his jaw set. "I pledged to bring men North to aide the living. I plan to honor that pledge."
"Then that would be treason," she said coolly.
"Treason?"
"Disobeying your queens command, fighting with her enemies, what would you call it?"
Jaime shook his head, standing straight. "It doesn't matter what I'd call it."
When he turned to leave, Gregor stood in his way. When he glanced back to Cersei she said, "No one walks away from me."
"Are you going to order him to kill me?" He asked as he turned to her. "I'm the only one you have left. Our children are gone. Our father is gone. It's just me and you now!"
"Whether from you or another," she said calmly, "there will be more to come."
Whatever part of him still cared for her made his stomach twist at the thought of her with another man, much as it had when he heard she'd promised to marry Euron once the war was over. With a nod he told her, "Give the order then."
Jaime met her gaze, almost daring her. Though not surprised to see her gaze shift toward Gregor with a nod, it still broke his heart.
For a moment he was shaken, his gaze shifting, going through all they've been together, all they'd loved each other before she became the monster before him. "I don't believe you," he said turning to Gregor and walking past him, waiting for a sword across his back that never came.
He wished he'd pulled for a more public reveal. He might have had more men join him as he made for the stables.
Though she'd freed him from his vows to make him commander of their armies, a kingsguard's vows were for life. The men with him might not make a difference in the wars to come, but a kingsguard would give his life to guard his king and defend him from any who seek to harm his king, even from his own sister.
Looking over the scroll Bran drawn out, Gendry shook his head. "This is very specific."
Jon crossed his arms. "I know. Arya says you're good. I trust her judgment on this, and I trust you to be the only one who sees this before you throw it in the forge."
Gendry looked to Jon wide eyed. "Only me?"
"You see how difficult it is to make," Jon said with a nod toward the large parchment filled with small writing and diagrams. "We can't waste the dragonglass on failed attempts. I'd rather them go to daggers, spears and arrows. But I'd set aside an amount for you to use to get a handle on it, and once you have we'll forge as many as we can before we ride north."
Gendry looked at the page again, frowning. "I guess I'll stay south forging more for any reinforcements."
"You can't," Jon said with a smirk, "we'll need the dragons."
Gendry laughed. "Right." Though lacking certain specifics, Bran gave enough detail to give Gendry an idea of the temperatures needed, the timing, how to temper the steel. It wasn't something he could rush, definitely not at first. It would need to be slow and precise at first until he had a handle on it. Each one would take time. "I can do it."
Jon had been more than pleased when Sansa accepted his offer to help train her, but somehow that had turned into him spending every other morning with half the women in Winterfell. Thankfully Arya, Brienne, Podrick and Theon had taken to helping him. He could instruct them all but if he tried to help refine them all by himself it would take hours.
Of course, Arya relished the opportunity to guide Sansa. "Straighten your back," she tutted. "Tighten your grip. Or should I crack your knuckles."
Sansa knew know the best way to annoy her. She tightened her grip and straightened her back and gave her a sweet smile. "That better?"
Arya huffed. "Yeah, yeah," she said waving her hand and moving to help Lyanna Mormont.
"She's right, you know," Jon said walking to Sansa, placing a hand over hers, "but the hilt's apologized. No need to choke it to death."
Sansa laughed, fixing her grip. "I know she's right." Looking at the sword she took a swing and sighed. "Is this okay?"
"It's a simple strike but yeah."
"I meant the sword." She held it in one hand, frowning. "Shouldn't they be heavier?"
"Heavier than what?"
"Normal swords," she shrugged. "It feels about the same as any normal sword. Wouldn't it be better if it was heavier?"
Jon noticed her raise her voice for the final question, her attempt to draw attention from the others. He shook his head as she flashed a smile at him, having forced him into another teaching moment. They all seemed to turn to him, so he shook his head.
"No, it doesn't really make a difference. Most of the time if the sword's lighter it's smaller or shaped differently, meaning you couldn't wield it like you do these."
"It won't make us swing normal swords faster?" asked Johnna, though Jon noticed Lyanna look from the girl to him, as if she'd been wary of asking that and risk embarrassing herself.
"No. It'll feel like it does, but it doesn't."
"And how would you know that?" asked Lyanna.
To their surprise Theon chuckled and answered while Jon sighed. "He's tried."
They looked from Theon to Jon, who nodded, glancing at Sansa. "The Starks were hosting some guests so I came out to the yard every night and gathered up as many sticks as I could. I tied them to a sword and counted every swing, forcing myself to do more and more every night until my arms hurt."
Sansa frowned at the thought of Jon sat out here alone at night wrapping sticks around his sword and swinging away while she laughed at jokes in the warm hall and had her fill of lemoncakes.
"I got to a little over six hundred before I had to accept it wasn't working," Jon admitted with a small laugh.
Once their lesson was over Sansa joined Jon on his way to his solar.
"How'd I do?" He asked once he sat at his desk.
"Wonderfully," she assured, sitting on his lap before he could reach the letters Wolkan had left for him.
His arm wrapped around her waist. "Sword or dagger?"
"Neither," she admitted. "But if I had to choose? Sword, I guess."
"Really?" That surprised him.
Sansa took a breath. "I had to wait until one of Ramsay's dogs had knocked me to the ground to stab it in the eye. Maybe I could have hit him before he ever touched me if I could have just picked up one of their swords and known how to use it."
After nodding, Jon patted her rear and sat up. "Let's finish with these so we can see off your aunt and cousin."
Sansa felt a wave of relief once Lysa and Baelish left for the Vale with Robin, leaving a few others lords and their men behind, vowing to send all they could once they returned to the Eyrie.
No one was surprised when a letter came from Jaime telling them Cersei planned to betray them a day after hers arrived saying she agreed to the armistice. Davos and a few lords had wanted to convene and discuss whether to focus on the Wall or south, but Jon said they would wait for Daenerys. Whatever happened, he had little doubt she would help with both wars whether she was his wife or not.
Thankfully it wasn't long before they got word from White Harbor and saw dragons on the horizon. Knowing Daenerys wouldn't be among those on horse, Jon rode through the gates with a small group while Sansa and most of Winterfell stood on the walls.
Tyrion led the group from Daenerys' armies including a lone Westerosi man among the Dothraki and Unsullied. The bear on his chest plate drew Jon's eye. "King Jon," Tyrion said introducing the knight and Unsullied captain, "Ser Jorah Mormont and Grey Worm."
The knight gave him a nod which Jon returned while shaking the man's hand once they all dismounted. "I served with your father at Castle Black. He was a good man."
Davos looked around the group before glancing at Drogon. "She on one of them again?"
"That she is," Tyrion said with a laugh. "Our queen enjoys making an entrance."
Jon looked to Winterfell and saw Sansa stood beside Ghost, watching him. Spotting Drogon begin his descent, Jon stood firm while others back away. Once his claws dug into earth Drogon crawled forward, toward Jon.
Sansa and many others fought back gasps as the dragon came to a stop in front of Jon, Ghost letting out a slight growl along with Drogon's. From the dragon's back Daenerys watched Jon remove his glove and reach out to rub the scales of Drogon's snout. He stared into the dragon's eye as it's growl quieted, lowering his wing to let Daenerys climb off. Once she'd touched earth Jon pulled his hand back and Drogon backed away, carefully turning and flapping his wings to launch himself into the air again.
Making her way to Jon, Daenerys smiled. "I suppose there's no doubting your dragon blood now." She glanced toward Winterfell as he put on his glove and saw a woman in a gray grown stood beside a large white wolf. Auburn hair framed her face, hanging past her shoulders while azure eyes shifted from Jon to Daenerys. "Is that her?"
Following her gaze, he found Sansa shot him a quick look that told him he would be in trouble. "Yeah," he smiled.
Daenerys laughed. "She's beautiful. I can see why you're willing to overlook having been her half-brother."
Jon glanced at her. "Same as you're willing to overlook being my aunt?"
Daenerys arched her brow and smirked. "It is in our blood."
With a sigh Jon motioned for her to follow.
By the time they made it through the gates, everyone had moved to the courtyard with Sansa at the front. "Your grace," Sansa said with a curtsy, "welcome to Winterfell."
"Thank you, Lady Stark." Daenerys wore a smile as she nodded to Sansa.
"You look well, Sansa," Tyrion said with a smirk.
"You as well, Lord Tyrion."
"My lords and ladies," Tyrion said before introducing the others.
Having met them all already, Jon kept his attention on Daenerys and Sansa, noticing that between introductions they seemed to glance at one another. He hoped it was simply them gauging each other and not some unspoken challenge.
When Tyrion came to Jorah, Lyanna gave a huff, glaring at him, but kept quiet beyond that.
Davos handled the Stark introductions, Tyrion wearing a fond smile as he, like most others, thought House Stark all but gone barely a year earlier. Rickon seemed nervous to meet the new people, but his eyes kept drifting toward the dragons flying in the distance. Bran seemed impassive, while Arya seemed wary.
"And of course, the Lady of Winterfell, Sansa Stark."
After they'd exchanged nods, Daenerys turned to look at the direwolf beside Sansa with a smile. "And I assume this is Ghost?" His ears perked up hearing his name, and she chuckled. "Yes, Jon told me about you."
He took a step forward, eyeing her as she reached up to rub his head.
"He's beautiful," she said with a smile.
"I'm sure you're all tired from your journey," Sansa said once Daenerys took her hand from Ghost. "We've prepared rooms. Supper will be in the great hall. If you somehow get lost, I'm sure Lord Tyrion will show you."
"I may still remember," Tyrion said with a smirk. "I believe I was mostly sober during my second visit."
Daenerys looked to Sansa and Jon as she followed them inside. "I'd like to speak soon."
With a quick look to him, Sansa nodded. "Once you're settled seek out Jon's solar."