It’s the year 370 AC in Westeros. King Bran the Broken has died peacefully in King’s Landing at the age of 82 after ruling wisely and ensuring unprecedented peace and prosperity for the six kingdoms. In the north, Queen Alysanne Stark, grand-daughter of Queen Sansa Stark, rules an independent nation. But when a new king is elected in King’s Landing, everything is about to change.

Part 1 of 5: The End of Peace

The horn sounds at Winterfell to announce visitors. Queen Alysanne Stark knows it’s time.

“Where are my brother and sister?” she asks Maester Corwyn.

“Torrhen and Wylla are in the study, but I’ll call them rightaway.” says the maester.

Alysanne, Torrhen and Wylla Stark greet the visitors at the gate. They see a middle-aged man with a casket.

“Your Grace.” he bows slightly. He has an instinctive respect for her, like most people do. Alysanne is a beautiful young queen. She resembles her grandmother Sansa, but is shorter and has dark hair and eyes like a more typical Stark. At 22, she has the air of someone who has recently shed her teenage girlishness and blossomed into a woman.

The visitor says, “I’m Jon Tarly, youngest son of Grand Maester Samwell Tarly. As my father promised in his raven, here are the bones of King Bran the Broken. Returned to Winterfell as every Stark should be.”

Alysanne, Torrhen, Wylla, Maester Corwyn and Jon Tarly take Bran’s bones down to the crypts, where a space has been reserved for him. Next to it are bones of other famous Starks.

13-year-old Torrhen Stark says, “Wasn’t it just last year that we brought Grandma’s bones here?”

“And the year before that, the king beyond the wall, Eddard Snow, brought his father Jon Snow’s bones here.” replies Alysanne. “We are losing all our legends.”

There’s still an empty space after Bran’s bones are buried. 10-year-old Wylla Stark asks, “Whose is that?”

“Read your history textbooks and you’ll know who it’s for!” replies Torrhen Stark.

Later, the Starks and the visitors gather in the great hall of Winterfell for a feast.

“I hope Grand Maester Samwell and Lady Gilly are keeping good health.” says Alysanne.

“They are fit as a fiddle.” says Jon Tarly. “You’d never think they are 90 and 88. My eldest brother Sam is 72 and still waiting to be Lord of Horn Hill because the old man is still going strong.”

Alysanne says, “Could Grand Maester Samwell do me a favor? Can he use his connections at the Citadel to send me ten more maesters?”

“That’s a lot of maesters for a small family, Your Grace.” says Jon Tarly.

She replies, “It’s for the whole kingdom, my lord. I’d like a maester in every corner of the North so that medicine is never too far for anyone. And in their spare time, they can teach the people to read and write. We’ve denied too many things to too many people for too long.”

Jon Tarly is impressed. This queen is constantly thinking about how she can make life better for the people. Even the “favors” she asks for are not for herself.

He says, “Ten more maesters would be a start, Your Grace. But what we really need is ten more rulers like you.”

“Oh, I almost forgot to ask.” says Alysanne. “How are the elections for the new ruler in King’s Landing?”

Jon Tarly says, “The elections were concluded very swiftly. We have a new king. Olyvar Baratheon.”

Alysanne is taken aback. “I’ve met Olyvar Baratheon once and it was at the Tourney at Riverrun where he was easily thrashed by Lord Bracken. I never took him for king material.”

“Your Grace, there are many, including myself, who are not pleased with this decision. But we cannot question it when our liege lords have chosen him. I’m a Tarly of the Reach, sworn to Lord Blackwater of Highgarden. He was one of the six who elected Olyvar Baratheon king.”

“Who are the other five?” asks Alysanne.

“Lady Tully of Riverrun, Lord Arryn of the Vale, Lord Greyjoy of the Iron Islands, Lady Lannister of Casterly Rock, and Princess Dalia Martell of Dorne.”

“Six people in the entire continent decided who should rule millions of people.” fumes Alysanne.

“That’s not all, Your Grace. It’s an open secret that Olyvar Baratheon is sleeping with Princess Dalia of Dorne.”

“Fuck!”

“Exactly, Your Grace!”

In King’s Landing, lords and ladies of the six kingdoms are in the Red Keep for the coronation of King Olyvar Baratheon.

“Arise, King Olyvar of House Baratheon, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Six Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.”

Olyvar Baratheon rises. He’s a black-haired young man who looks a little unsure of himself but tries to mask it with an air of bravado.

“Long may he reign!” “Long may he reign!” echo the lords and ladies. Princess Dalia Martell shouts the loudest.

Lord Arryn goes up to the throne. “Your Grace, it gives me great pleasure to see a Baratheon on the throne after three generations. We have all read about the battle courage of the great Robert Baratheon. It’s in honor of your great house that I’m presenting to you this golden stag.”

Lord Blackwater of Highgarden is next. “Your Grace, my house is neither rich nor old. We don’t have golden figurines to give you. But we have this. The crossbow used by the founder of our house, Ser Bronn of the Blackwater, to win the Battle of the Blackwater in AC 299.”

After more bouts of insincere praise from Lord Greyjoy, Lady Tully and Princess Dalia, everyone heads to the feast.

King Olyvar is intercepted by a beautiful golden-haired lady.

“Lanna Lannister, a sight for sore eyes!” Olyvar gropes her. Lanna tolerates his groping because he’s a king.

She then says, “I’m not one for pleasantries, Your Grace. I wanted to talk something important to you.” Olyvar is intrigued.

Lanna continues, “Everyone is quick to remind you that you are the first Baratheon in three generations to rule the six kingdoms. What they avoid saying is that the last time a Baratheon sat the throne, he ruled seven kingdoms.”

“The North will never bend the knee.” says Olyvar.

“They won’t if we ask them nicely.” says Lanna. “But if the combined armies of the six kingdoms march on them?”

“You want me to go to war to bring the North under my rule.” says Olyvar. “What do you stand to gain from it?”

“The satisfaction of serving the king of the seven kingdoms, of course.” she says. “The septon said King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men. You and I and the Reach and Riverlanders and Vale men are the Andals. The Dornish are the Rhoynar. Who are the First Men?”

“The North.”

“So are you really the king of the First Men… yet?”

That night, Olyvar is in bed with Dalia Martell, both exhausted after a round of sex. Dalia is a tanned, exotic looking Dornish princess who caught his fancy precisely because she was different from the milky white women he was used to.

Dalia says, “Did you know that I slapped Lord Dayne on your behalf this afternoon?”

“Why?”

“He said you wouldn’t have been king without me!”

“That’s true, isn’t it?”

“You don’t get it, my king. It may be true, but is that the image you want? That your girlfriend steered the throne towards you?”

“Lord Blackwater and Lord Arryn and Lady Lannister were all involved.” protests Olyvar.

“That’s what I told Lord Dayne but he replied that you ingratiated yourself with all of them in different ways to get all of them on your side. The way he said it was as if you don’t have the talent for ruling. That’s why I slapped him.”

Olyvar spends the rest of the night deep in thought.

The next morning, Olyvar goes straight to 90-year-old Grand Maester Samwell Tarly.

Olyvar says agitatedly, “Grand Maester, I know the things that are being said about me.” Samwell reacts as if he knows what those things are.

Olyvar continues. “There’s a perception that I got the crown because of my exceptionally good relationship with six lords and ladies.”

“Especially the ladies.” says Samwell in a mocking way that he can get away with because of his age.

This only rattles Olyvar more. “There’s one way to prove that I’m a worthy king. Conquer the North and make it the seven kingdoms again.”

Samwell didn’t expect this. “Your Grace, Westeros has had peace for 65 years.”

“And we have become weak. We don’t produce heroes like we used to.”

“A ruler who keeps the peace is a hero too. Bran the Broken…”

“Had no choice!” Olyvar cuts him off. “Could he have gone to battle in his wheelchair?”

“Starting a war just to show strength is unbecoming of a ruler, Your Grace. Besides, if you lose the war, you only prove all your critics right.”

“Then it’s your responsibility, Grand Maester, to make sure that I win this war.”

“A century ago, Robert Baratheon’s warhammer nestled in Rhaegar Targaryen’s chest. Three hundred years of Targaryen rule ended on the Trident and Baratheon rule began.” Olyvar says to an assembled assortment of lords and ladies in the Red Keep. Jon Tarly has returned from the North and is in that crowd.

“But then, we declined again. Fake Baratheons, a Lannister and a Stark ruled the seven kingdoms which became six. Gendry Baratheon was content with just being Lord of Storm’s End. As was his son, Ormund Baratheon. But his son, Olyvar Baratheon, is now ruling the six kingdoms again.”

A lot of lords and ladies cheer.

“With House Baratheon back on the throne, there’s only one thing left to do. Bring the North back into the fold.”

The cheers turn to concerned murmurs. Jon Tarly looks particularly disturbed at the thought of going to war with the Starks he has just met.

Then, Lord Blackwater shouts, “Let’s do it!”

He’s followed by Lord Greyjoy, Lady Tully and Lord Arryn. The mood turns positive again.

“Your Grace, may I speak?” asks a young man.

“Who are you?” Olyvar asks dismissively.

The young man rises. “I’m Mandon Royce of the Vale, heir to Runestone and bannerman to Lord Arryn. I believe that trying to conquer the North would be a foolish mission.”

Olyvar gives him a “how dare you” look.

Mandon Royce continues. “Moat Cailin on the Neck has terrain that’s heavily in favor of any troops defending the North. The North has defended itself successfully at Moat Cailin in the face of numerically superior invaders several times. There have been only two occasions in the entire history of Westeros when the North bent the knee. On both occasions, it was to a conquering Targaryen with three dragons. Do you have three dragons, Your Grace?”

Olyvar knows he has lost the argument but cannot admit it. “I have six kingdoms!” he raises his voice.

“Six kingdoms who gave their sons… and a few daughters… to our army believing that it’s a peacetime force to guard us in the event of external aggression. Not for playing at war.”

“Are you saying you won’t fight for me?”

“I will fight for you and die for you if necessary, Your Grace. But is it necessary?”

The crowd didn’t expect this kind of overt disagreement with the king. The king himself didn’t expect it.

Olyvar then ends the conversation prematurely saying, “Lord Royce, your opinions are noted. As are the opinions of your liege lord, Lord Arryn, who agrees with me on this matter. That will be all.”

“It’s impossible.” says a shocked Alysanne.

“The raven scroll says it, Your Grace.” says Maester Corwyn. “Olyvar Baratheon wants the North to bend the knee or there will be war.”

“Then he will have war.” she says with anger. “Call the banners. Call Lord Manderly, Lord Glover, Lady Dustin, Lady Tallhart, Lord Cerwyn, Lady Reed.”

“I’ll do that rightaway, Your Grace.” says the maester. “But our combined forces will still be just a fraction of what the six southern kingdoms will send here.”

“We have Moat Cailin.” she says, unknowingly echoing Mandon Royce’s sentiments.

“I have one more idea.” says the maester. “Eddard Snow, the King Beyond The Wall.”

Alysanne has doubts about this suggestion. “He’s a king of his kingdom, the way I’m a queen of mine. He’s not my bannerman. Why will he come because I call?”

“Blood.” says the maester. “Who was the founder of House Snow?”

“Jon Snow. A Stark on his mother’s side.” says Alysanne.

“Exactly. Eddard Snow won’t come because he’s your bannerman. He’ll come because he’s your family.”

Olyvar Baratheon is again in bed with Dalia Martell. He asks, “Am I doing the right thing?”

Dalia Martell replies, “My king, I am with you. Dorne is with you. We will fight for you. As long as I’m with you, you have nothing to fear.”

Olyvar kisses her passionately, and then says, “Be my queen. Rule the seven kingdoms with me.”

“I will.” she says. “Once we conquer the seventh kingdom, we will announce our wedding immediately.”

“What if we fail to conquer the seventh kingdom?” asks Olyvar. “Will you still love me?”

“If you had no kingdoms, I would still love you.” says Dalia. “But let’s not contemplate that possibility. Planning for failure is never a good strategy in war.”

That night, Alysanne goes to sleep thinking that she may still not have enough soldiers.

She dreams that she has landed her ship on a strange land.

In front of her appears a dark-haired, dark-eyed girl. She looks very much like a Stark.

“Who are you and where am I?” asks Alysanne.

“I’m Queen Nymeria Stark.” the strange girl replies. “Grand-daughter of Arya Stark and the queen of the Sunset Land to the west of Westeros. That’s where you are. I know you are at war. I can help. I’ll send you ten thousand soldiers from the Sunset Land.”

Alysanne wakes up. She’s disappointed that it was just a dream. But not just because she won’t get those ten thousand soldiers. She was starting to like Queen Nymeria. She saw a lot of herself in her.

The next day, Olyvar discusses battle plans with Princess Dalia, Lanna Lannister, Lord Blackwater, Lord Arryn, Lady Tully and Lord Greyjoy.

“Lady Lannister and Lord Blackwater will lead our left flank.” he says.

Lanna Lannister says, “My army will be here tomorrow, led by General Desmond Westerling, the best military mind in the Westerlands.”

“Who also happens to be your boyfriend.” says Olyvar. “Not that it’s a problem.” He gives a little look to Dalia Martell.

He continues. “Lord Arryn and Princess Dalia will lead our right flank with the knights of the Vale and the Dornish. I will lead our central attack with Baratheon and Riverlands soldiers.”

“What do I do?” asks Lord Greyjoy.

Olyvar has a plan for him too. “Your Ironborn are not suited to land warfare. But you will do your part by attacking northern castles like Deepwood Motte to weaken the northern houses and their armies right now, before they have a chance to assemble the northern armies.”

The next day, the Lannister army arrives in King’s Landing and greets Lanna. The Lannister army is led by Desmond Westerling. Lanna welcomes him with a passionate kiss.

“So, what’s in it for me?” asks Desmond.

“The satisfaction of helping me become the king’s most trusted advisor.” says Lanna. “And your chance to become the general of the entire royal army once we win this war.”

At Winterfell, the banners start to arrive. Lord Manderly arrives with a thousand soldiers. Lord Glover arrives with six hundred. Lady Dustin, Lord Flint, Lord Cerwyn, Lady Tallhart, Lord Mazin, Lord Hornwood and various other minor lords and ladies arrive with a hundred to two hundred soldiers each.

“Still not enough.” fumes Alysanne.

“Lady Reed is awaiting us at Moat Cailin with another seven hundred.” says Maester Corwyn. “The Reed soldiers are known for guerrilla warfare. They will be equivalent to three fighters each.”

In the Red Keep of King’s Landing, Dalia Martell has news for Olyvar Baratheon. “My king, Lord Greyjoy has sent a raven from Pyke. He says the west coast of the North is too dangerous for his ships to attack.”

“Why? What’s happening on the west coast of the North?” asks Olyvar.

“Hundreds of Stark ships.” says Dalia.

“Stark ships? There’s no such thing.” says a puzzled Olyvar. “In none of their wars have the Starks been a naval power.”

“Do you know what’s the most astonishing thing?” asks Dalia. “The Stark ships are sailing from west to east. Towards Westeros.”

Maester Corwyn has news for Alysanne. “My queen, we have an unusual visitor. She calls herself Nymeria Stark. She says she has sailed here from the Sunset Land after dreaming of you. I think she’s had one too many drinks…” He cannot continue because Alysanne has started running down already!

In the courtyard, Alysanne sees the same girl she had seen in her dream. A harshly beautiful black-haired black-eyed lady who can be nothing other than a Stark.

“My queen.” says Nymeria Stark.

Alysanne looks affectionately at her and says, “My sister.”

They hug as if they have grown up together.

“I’ve brought you what I promised.” says Nymeria. “Five thousand men.”

“You said ten thousand.”

“And five thousand women.” says Nymeria. “Surely you didn’t think Arya Stark let only the men learn to fight.”

They hug again.

Nymeria says, “We have paintings of Winterfell at Winterhold. But when I saw it for the first time, I cried.”

Alysanne says, “I grew up on stories about Arya Stark. The girl who killed the Night King. The girl who could change faces. The girl who killed enemies of House Stark and baked them into pies.”

“I brought you something.” says Nymeria.

A group of yellow-skinned men bring forward a casket. Alysanne opens it and sees the bones of a short and slightly-built old woman.

“Is this Arya Stark?” asks Alysanne with wide-open eyes.

“Yes. Grandma wanted to be buried back in Winterfell, with the bones of her father, sister and brothers.” says Nymeria.

Alysanne cannot take her eyes off Arya’s bones. She sheds a tear.

When she can finally bring herself to close the casket, she notices words that have been engraved on the wooden lid.

“A girl is Arya Stark of Winterfell and I’m going home.”

Part 2 of 5: A Time For War

After burying Arya Stark’s bones in the crypt, Alysanne wants to inspect the Sunset Warriors. Thousands of yellow-skinned men and women are outside Winterfell. They have smaller eyes and noses than the Westerosi, and are also shorter and slighter overall.

“They are quite small. Even the men.” Alysanne says with concern.

“Small. Agile. Athletic. Ideal for the nimble art of water dancing. That’s the form of fighting Arya Stark taught her first few disciples. And they taught their own disciples. Till every man and woman on the Sunset Land became an exponent.” says Nymeria.

“What language do they speak?” asks Alysanne.

“Soluslingua. The Tongue of the Sun, we call it.” says Nymeria. She then turns to them and says, “Macumbo bendrolus!” They all shout “Daaa” in response. “That means, ready to fight.” Nymeria explains.

Lord Blackwater returns to King’s Landing and visits Olyvar. “Your Grace, my army is here. The Tarlys, the Florents, the Redwynes and all my other bannermen are here.”

Olyvar says, “I’ve heard disturbing reports that Alysanne Stark has received reinforcements from west of Westeros. You know Arya Stark, don’t you?”

“Everyone in Westeros knows that name.” says Lord Blackwater.

“It turns out that she found land, and became its queen. Her grand-daughter has now brought ten thousand soldiers to bolster the Stark army.” says Olyvar.

“And you want my Reach army to go up against them.”

“That’s right. But you won’t be alone. The Lannister army will fight right alongside you. And one more thing. I’ve always been a better fighter with a crossbow than with a sword. My weapon on the battlefield will be the the crossbow of House Blackwater which you’ve given me.” says Olyvar.

“That’s a great honor for my young house, Your Grace.”

Alysanne and Nymeria are chatting in one of the bedrooms of Winterfell while braiding each other’s hair.

Alysanne asks, “Tell me all about the Sunset Land. Its terrain. Its people. And how Arya Stark conquered it.”

Nymeria never tires of talking about it. “The Sunset Land is a continent roughly half the size of Westeros. Which makes it roughly the size of the North. It’s populated by yellow-skinned people who are rumored to be of Yi Tish origin from even further west.”

A fascinated Alysanne says, “Yi Ti is far east from here. This means the world is round! You sail east from here beyond Qarth and you’ll reach Yi Ti, and further east will be the Sunset Land which is also west of here!”

Nymeria continues. “The point where Arya landed would later become the castle of Winterhold. When she first landed, she saw a plain with fertile soil and a peace loving agricultural community. She thought they had a quaint, if somewhat boring life. She was wrong.

“From the mountains came the tribes. Raiding the farms for food. It was not the cows or the sheep or the pigs they were after. It was the people. For these were cannibalistic tribes.”

“Oh no!” Alysanne exclaims.

Nymeria goes on. “But little did they know that the farmers were now defended by a girl who had made a vile man eat his own sons without knowing it! Arya turned the farmers into soldiers. She taught them to defend themselves. And she herself assassinated the leaders of those cannibalistic tribes until those tribes were no more.”

“How did she do that?”

“She would kill a junior tribesman, wear his face, infiltrate the tribe, kill a more senior tribesman, wear his face, and do this until she could wear the face of a sufficiently senior tribesman that she could have access to the tribe leader.”

“Wow, she was a special girl!” exclaims Alysanne.

“Have you ever heard of a Stark girl who’s not special?” asks Nymeria.

“Come to think of it, no!” chuckles Alysanne.

“So, the tribes started disappearing one by one. No one knew how. Till one day the entire continent belonged to the farmers, and Arya Stark ruled them all from the fortress of Winterhold, which was built precisely where she first landed on the Sunset Land.”

“There’s a knock on the door. The rider who went beyond the Wall has returned.”

He says, “Your Grace, our reports have been outdated. King Eddard Snow passed away several months ago after being mauled by a mountain lion. However, we have a new King Beyond The Wall. Eddard Snow’s son Brandon Snow. He has heeded our call and is rallying a thousand Free Folk. They should be at Winterfell any time now.”

Once he leaves, Nymeria asks curiously, “Eddard and Brandon Snow? Are they…”

“The son and grandson of the legendary Jon Snow.” replies Alysanne.

Nymeria is excited. “Grandma made sure we knew all about Jon Snow. The man who saved the world twice, once from ice and once from fire. But she never knew what happened after he was exiled beyond the Wall for killing Daenerys Targaryen.”

Alysanne is equipped to fill her knowledge gaps. She says, “Shortly after Jon Snow was exiled, the Free Folk declared him King Beyond The Wall. They were fiercely loyal to him because he saved them from the White Walkers, saved them from the Night’s Watch, and even died for them once. Jon started House Snow, ruling house of all the lands beyond the Wall. He married the daughter of Tormund Giantsbane, his best friend and advisor. Jon never liked all that power though. So when his first son Eddard came of age, he gladly relinquished his title to him. Now Eddard’s son Brandon is King Beyond The Wall.”

Alysanne then halts and ponders about something. “Brandon. Eddard. They may not carry the Stark name, but their first names are still very Stark.”

Nymeria says, “Wasn’t your father Eddard Stark too? This means Sansa Stark and Jon Snow both named their first sons Eddard.”

“It would have been a surprise only if they hadn’t.” says Alysanne. “The first Eddard Stark will never be forgotten in the North. He taught the North to be honorable. Before him, we were a people known more for our savagery. He ruled the North for seventeen peaceful and prosperous years. He was never a king, but he raised three kings and two queens.”

“Grandma never called herself a queen.” says Nymeria.

“Of course she wouldn’t.” smiles Alysanne. “From what I’ve heard, Arya Stark didn’t like our conventional concepts of kings and queens. By the way, I wanted to ask you why you came to be named Nymeria. Is it because of the Rhoynar queen who came west and conquered Dorne?”

Nymeria replies, “It’s true, Grandma was fascinated by Nymeria the Rhoynar queen. That’s why she named her direwolf Nymeria. It was for the direwolf that I was named.”

Alysanne asks, “I’ve heard that Arya Stark was not interested in marriage. How did she give rise to a new generation of Starks?”

Nymeria replies, “She never married. But she had a bastard son who took the Stark name. That was my father.”

“Don’t tell me his name was Eddard.” says Alysanne.

“Syrio.” says Nymeria. “That was his name. Syrio Stark.”

“That sounds almost Essosi. The most unlikely name for a Stark.” says Alysanne.

“But I do have a younger brother named Eddard.” says Nymeria. “He didn’t travel with me. Because there must always be a Stark in Winterhold.”

Alysanne is suddenly curious about one thing. “Why is it that you don’t have any features of the Yellow People? You look like you’re of pure Stark blood.”

Nymeria replies, “I don’t know the science behind it, but so far, Stark features have tended to dominate in my family. My grandfather was of the Yellow People, as was my mother, but the Stark seed has been strong.”

This makes sense to Alysanne, who says, “Sometimes it works that way. Jon Snow was half Stark half Targaryen but looked completely like a Stark. But the funny thing is, my grandmother Queen Sansa had more southern features unlike a typical Stark. We need the maesters to study these things more.”

“Tell me about your grandmother.” says Nymeria.

Alysanne never has enough of talking about her grandmother either. “Queen Sansa was the most caring ruler you could imagine. She wouldn’t rest until every citizen of the North had enough to eat, a roof over their heads, and the ability to walk the streets without fear. If one house in one corner of the North had been damaged by a falling tree, she wouldn’t sleep unless she had dispatched a mason in the middle of the night to fix it. And that mason could travel freely in the middle of the night because she had ensured that every bandit in the North had been caught and exiled. Whatever I learned about ruling, I learned from her. People enjoy telling me that I’m like her. They even say I’m as beautiful as her. That’s hilarious. It’s like saying an oil lamp is as bright as the sun. You may say that to curry favor with the oil lamp, but you can never truly mean it.”

“Who was your grandfather?” asks Nymeria.

Alysanne replies, “A southern knight. Ser Podrick Payne. He was a man of many talents. He was a good fighter. He fought the White Walkers in the Long Night and survived. He was a good singer too. He had… certain other gifts that would be too awkward for a grand-daughter to talk about. And most of all, he was a good, earnest, trustworthy man. That’s why the queen chose him ahead of hundreds of other men who aspired for her.”

“Queen Sansa outlived him, didn’t she?” asks Nymeria.

“She outlived not just my grandfather but both my parents too. She died just last year. I’ll never forget the day she was on her deathbed and she gently took off her crown and placed it on my head. She was fading. But she looked at me, and that look said it all. Make me proud. Make the North proud. Make me live in you. I know you will do it, little Alys. I know I will never die as long as I live in you. She said all that without saying a word. Every night, I ask myself, would grandma be proud of what I’ve done today?”

Maester Samwell has a visitor in his chambers. It’s his son Jon Tarly. He looks very determined.

“Father, I’ve decided that I cannot tell our men to fight against Queen Alysanne.” says Jon.

Samwell says, “We are sworn to Lord Blackwater…”

“I’ve met Queen Alysanne.” says Jon. “She’s a very fine lady. Everything a ruler can be.”

“Are you thinking with your cock?” asks Samwell.

A perturbed Jon says, “I’m 55 with two grown sons.”

“That never stopped a man from thinking with his cock.” says Samwell.

Jon continues. “Queen Alysanne is good. She’s honorable. She’s brave. And yet she’s gentle. She speaks her mind. And yet she hurts no one. She’s charismatic. The nobles and the commoners are both naturally drawn to her. That’s why I say she’s everything a ruler can be. Our own king has none of these qualities.”

Sam is very disturbed. “Jon, this is high treason. You can be hanged for this. I’m 90. At this age, should I see my youngest son being hanged before my own eyes?”

“This means… I need to fight against her men. Kill them… Kill Alysanne herself if need be.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” says Samwell. “If everything you’re saying about her is true, she’s not going to be easy to kill.”

Unknown to them, a similar conversation is taking place in the Eyrie between Lord Arryn and Mandon Royce.

Mandon says, “Do you really want to go to war against the Starks, Lord Arryn? The Vale has a special relationship with the North. Ned Stark was fostered within these walls. He imbibed our concepts of chivalry and courage and pride. He took those principles back to the North. He ruled it our way. He raised three kings and two queens who ruled their kingdoms our way. Who won the Battle of the Bastards for the Starks? We did!”

“You know your history, I must give you that.” says Lord Arryn. “But I care more about the present. It’s important for the Vale to be in the favor of the king. If we can be the kingdom to unite the seven kingdoms under King Olyvar, the people of the Vale stand to gain immensely.”

Mandon gives up because there’s a limit to what he can do. Lord Arryn is the Lord of the Vale. Mandon is only the lord of a small part of the Vale.

Maester Corwyn has new news for Alysanne. “Your Grace, King Brandon Snow and his Free Folk army are here. A thousand of them.”

Alysanne and Nymeria go out to receive the King Beyond the Wall. They see flags that carry a white wolf against a black background. The white wolf has red eyes.

Alysanne knows her history and explains it to Nymeria. “The wolf represents Jon Snow’s Stark heritage. It’s white to represent snow. The red eyes are for Jon Snow’s Targaryen heritage. The black background is a nod to Jon Snow being a black brother of the Night’s Watch.”

Brandon Snow is a rugged, warrior-type young man who looks like Jon Snow had a child with Tormund Giantsbane. He enters Winterfell for the first time and looks surprisingly emotional for a man of his machismo.

He sees both Alysanne Stark and Nymeria Stark for the first time. Both are beautiful dark-haired dark-eyed Stark girls. He’s confused as to which is the Queen in the North. The girls sense his confusion and decide to milk it.

“Guess which of us is Alysanne Stark, Queen in the North.” says Alysanne.

“Kneel before Queen Alysanne and live. Kneel before the wrong woman and lose your head!” says Nymeria.

To their surprise, Brandon doesn’t seem to be ruffled at the prospect of making a fatal mistake. He calmly turns to Alysanne and says, “You are Queen Alysanne.”

The girls are astonished that he guessed correctly without hesitation.

Brandon then turns to Nymeria and says, “The Queen in the North would surely know that the Free Folk do not kneel. You are clearly the one who’s new to these parts.”

The girls are impressed. This man is not a pushover by any means.

Alysanne turns to her men, directs their gaze towards Brandon, and says, “I like him. Have him washed and brought to my bed after sundown.”

Brandon is amused and wonders if Alysanne is some sort of nymphomaniac. He says, “Your Grace, I am a king, so shouldn’t you first ask me if I’m interested in sleeping with you?”

Alysanne looks further impressed and says, “He resists. Big turn-on. Have him washed and brought to my bed right now!”

After a round of raucous sex, Alysanne and Brandon are resting.

“I hope I’m showing adequate hospitality to the King Beyond the Wall!” chuckles Alysanne.

“And I hope I’m being an adequate guest of the Queen in the North!” chuckles Brandon.

“You’re a king yourself.” says Alysanne. “You didn’t have to come here to help me. You don’t even know me. But you came. Why?”

“Blood.”

“That’s the very word Maester Corwyn used when he suggested I call for your help.”

“My great-grandmother was Lyanna Stark of Winterfell.” says Brandon. “I may not have your name. But I have your blood.”

“Actually why don’t you have my name?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your grandfather, Jon Snow, could have taken the Stark name. Or the Targaryen name. Why did he start a new house called House Snow?”

Brandon asks, “When you come to the north… the real north… what do you see everywhere?”

“Snow.”

“Your name rules the north. My name IS the north.”

The queen is impressed. This man has a way with words.

She then asks, “How well did you know your grandfather?”

“Well enough to read his mind. He took the high ground. United people at every opportunity. He brought certain civilizing influences to the Free Folk. We don’t butcher each other for power any more. The entire Free Folk community pledges allegiance to House Snow as people on your side of the Wall pledge allegiance to House Stark. Jon Snow taught us to live in houses that are not at the mercy of the elements. He taught us to trade so that we don’t have just whatever’s available in the north. Hardhome is a port town now. Ships come from as far as the Summer Isles and the Jade Sea carrying spices, silks, gems, fish, medicines, tropical fruits, so many things we don’t have in the north.”

“What do you have in the north that you can offer them in return?” asks Alysanne.

“Mammoth fur. Direwolf fur. Whale blubber.”

Alysanne is suddenly furious. Brandon reads her mind and reassures her. “We don’t poach them! We only harvest from animals that have died of natural causes. Do you think Jon Snow would have allowed us to poach? Not a chance! We’ve inherited his values even though he’s no longer with us.”

“I’m glad you clarified that. Because I was about to ask you to leave my bed and my country.”

She’s dead serious as she says this. He’s impressed. This girl has principles. She’s worth his service and the service of his thousand warriors. It’s no longer just about blood.

In King’s Landing, Olyvar’s own Baratheon army arrives from Storm’s End. They comprise soldiers of Houses Trant, Selmy, Estermont, Swann, Wylde, Seaworth, and the Ser Brienne Regiment, an all-woman regiment from the island of Tarth, named in honor of the first female knight in Westerosi history.

Olyvar invites Lanna to the throne room. “Lady Lannister, you’re from the house who orchestrated the Red Wedding and blew up the Sept of Baelor. So I find it hard to believe that you want me to conquer the North purely because of your friendship with me. But should you help me become king of the seven kingdoms, I will reward you. So tell me what you want.”

Lanna doesn’t like the fact that he has read her mind. He’s not as stupid as she thought. She collects herself and says, “I’m the one who conceived the entire plan to conquer the North. And my men are going to fight till the end for you. My boyfriend is going to risk his life for you. So once we win this war, I think it’s fair if I’m your Hand of the King.”

“What about your boyfriend?” he asks.

Lanna adds, “I think it’s also fair if Desmond Westerling becomes the commander of your combined armies.”

Olyvar is thoughtful. Lanna is concerned. Then Olyvar smiles a little and says, “I’ve always found myself unable to refuse anything you ask.” Lanna smiles widely. She hugs him, momentarily forgetting that they are both in relationships with others.

Evening gathers. Plenty of soldiers are sparring outside Winterfell. Nymeria and Lord Manderly are locked in combat, as are Lords Glover and Flint.

Alysanne is sparring with Brandon who easily beats her and has his sword at her neck.

He can’t resist a bit of mockery. “Your Grace, when you said you’re an average fighter, I thought you were being modest. But you really are an average fighter.”

Alysanne is unaffected by the mockery and says, “Nonsense! I have better fighting skills than everyone else!”

Brandon laughs. “Then why do I have my sword at your neck?”

Alysanne explains. “I didn’t say I AM a better fighter than everyone else. I said I HAVE better fighting skills than everyone else. I HAVE the fighting skills of you and your thousand Free Folk. The fighting skills of Nymeria and her ten thousand Sunset Warriors. And the various assorted northern houses. I have all the fighting skills I’ll ever need.”

Brandon is impressed. He can learn a thing or two from this girl about ruling, delegating, and wordplay.

She’s not done. “You have your sword at my neck. But who really has power? You who can cut my throat in an instant? Or me, who has inspired your loyalty to the point where you’d never cut my throat in a million years?”

He drops his sword at her feet and kisses her passionately.

That night, Alysanne is at the head of a feast at the Great Hall, flanked by Nymeria and Brandon. The lords and ladies who have brought their fighters to Winterfell have all gathered in the crowd.

Alysanne begins. “Nymeria and her ten thousand soldiers will be our right flank, supported by soldiers of House Cerwyn and House Tallhart. Brandon and his Free Folk will be our left flank, supported by soldiers of Houses Manderly, Flint, Dustin, Hornwood and Mazin. I will lead our central thrust with Stark soldiers, supported by soldiers of House Reed and House Glover.”

Everyone seems happy with this arrangement.

Alysanne continues. “Nymeria and Brandon are proven warriors. I am not. Still, I wish to lead the central attack. That means I need backup. Lord Wylis Glover, you will fight alongside me at all times and make sure I stay alive.”

Wylis Glover is a young man of about the same age as Alysanne. He looks moved by Alysanne’s offer. “I would be honored, Your Grace.” he says with a voice filled with emotion.

Alysanne says, “The last two battles fought by House Stark were both 65 years ago. The Battle of the Bastards and the Long Night. House Glover refused our call on both those occasions. This is an opportunity for your house to prove your loyalty once again.”

Wylis says, “Your Grace, my men and I would kill for you and die for you. You don’t have to manipulate us into doing that.”

Alysanne is surprised at his brazenness in accusing her of manipulation. “A man who stands up to me. A rare sight indeed. I hope you’ll stand just as firm on the battlefield.”

“I will. And so will my men.” promises Wylis.

The queen has one more instruction for everyone. “All of you here would kill for me and die for me. But I’m not a greedy girl. I want you to do only half of that. Kill for me. But don’t die for me.”

The next morning, the combined armies of the six kingdoms leave King’s Landing and head north. Up in Winterfell, the northern armies start their southward journey.

Due to geographical proximity, the northerners arrive at Moat Cailin first. This is where they will defend the North.

They see flags of House Reed. This is their homeland. The Neck, of which Moat Cailin is a part.

As the entire Stark army gets closer to the Reed flags, they see hundreds of small soldiers of both genders. The Crannogmen as they are known. Small, swamp-dwelling, agile fighters who specialize in ambushing the enemy.

The Reed soldiers part. Behind them stands the 87-year-old matriarch of House Reed, Meera Reed.

“My queen.” greets Meera. “It’s like looking at your grandmother again.”

Nymeria smiles quietly. She remembers what Alysanne said about people comparing her with Sansa to curry favor with her.

“The North remembers, Lady Reed.” says Alysanne. “We remember House Reed’s services to House Stark through the centuries, and it’s a pleasure to have you fight alongside us again.”

“My two grandsons, Jojen and Jaqen, will lead the Crannogmen to fight alongside you, Your Grace.” says Meera. Two young men in their twenties come forward to meet the queen.

Meera says, “Our soldiers are in good hands with these two. As for me, the battlefield is hardly a place for an 87-year-old, so I will be awaiting good news in our castle at Greywater Watch.”

Before she leaves, Meera looks deep in Alysanne’s eyes and says, “Show everyone what we are capable of.”

“I will.” says Alysanne.

“When I say “we”, I don’t mean the North.” says Meera.

“I know.” Alysanne smiles the tiniest smile.

With the Reed soldiers, the entire northern resistance is complete. Here they will await the invaders. The wolf has done enough to sharpen her claws. Now it’s time to hunt down the stag or die from his antlers.

Part 3 of 5: The Battle of Moat Cailin

The entire southern host arrives at Moat Cailin. The central flank comprises the Riverlands army led by Lord Mallister, backed up by the Baratheon army led by Olyvar. The left flank comprises the Lannister army led by Desmond Westerling, backed up by the Reach army led by Lord Blackwater. The right flank comprises the Knights of the Vale led by Lord Arryn, backed up by the Dornish army led by Princess Dalia Martell.

Moat Cailin has a dilapidated castle in the middle, with a narrow causeway leading to it from the south. To the left and right of Moat Cailin are bogs, hostile to everyone except the Crannogmen of House Reed who are masters of this terrain.

Olyvar gathers Lord Mallister, Desmond Westerling, Lord Blackwater, Lord Arryn and Princess Dalia. He says, “I expect northmen to ambush us in the bogs and from the castle. But we outnumber them. By sheer force, we can breach Moat Cailin.”

Lord Arryn says, “Your Grace, thousands of our soldiers will die in the bogs.”

Olyvar says, “They will die, but they will also kill all the northmen in the bogs and help our second line of soldiers get north of Moat Cailin. We’ll still have the numbers to beat the northerners.”

Lord Arryn is appalled. “This was your plan all along? Sacrifice thousands of our frontline soldiers so that our second line will have a clear passage through Moat Cailin and engage the northerners there?”

Olyvar snidely says, “Lord Arryn, in case you haven’t noticed, we are at war.”

Lord Arryn has no choice but to obey his king or be hanged for desertion. He grudgingly goes back to his soldiers and readies them for what can only be described as a suicide mission. He sees Mandon Royce, who’s looking distinctly unsure of the plan.

Desmond Westerling goes back to his Lannister army and has a long and passionate kiss with Lanna Lannister. Lord Blackwater returns to his Blackwater army, which includes a very grudging Jon Tarly.

“Ours is the fury!” Olyvar shouts the words of House Baratheon. This is the cue for the attack to begin.

The Riverlands army besieges the causeway that leads to the castle. The causeway is narrow, which means only two can go at a time. Once a good number of invading soldiers are on the causeway, it happens. Northmen hiding in the castle come out to the windows and start raining arrows on the invaders. Several Riverlands soldiers are butchered as a result, but by sheer force of numbers, they reach the castle.

The Lannister army bashes through the bogs to the left of the castle, where Jojen Reed and his Crannogmen ambush them and massacre plenty of them in quick time. The same thing happens on the right flank, where Jaqen Reed has his own Crannogmen who ambush the Knights of the Vale. But the Crannogmen themselves get butchered by the sheer numbers of the Lannister and Vale soldiers.

Olyvar watches this massacre without batting an eyelid. The Crannogmen kill ten southern soldiers for every one of them who dies. But beyond a point, the Crannogmen have no choice but to retreat.

Once Olyvar is satisfied that the resisting northmen in the castle and bogs have retreated sufficiently, he shouts, “Second line, attack!”

This is the cue for his own Baratheon army to follow him through the causeway, for Lord Blackwater to take his Reach army through the bogs on the left, and for Dalia to lead her Dornish army through the bogs on the right.

Alysanne has stationed her entire army north of Moat Cailin. As planned, Brandon leads the Free Folk on the left flank, supported by a northern force led by Lord Manderly. On the right are Nymeria’s yellow warriors. Alysanne in the middle is supported by Wylis Glover and his Glover men, with thousands of Stark soldiers behind her.

Alysanne watches the massacre in the bogs and says, “The Baratheon boy appears eager to lose his numerical advantage. Thousands of his soldiers are dying. Only hundreds of ours are.”

The surviving Crannogmen return from the bogs. No northmen survive the central attack on the castle. Jaqen Reed runs towards Alysanne.

She asks, “How many of your 700 soldiers survived?”

Jaqen says, “About a hundred.”

“And your brother?”

Jaqen shakes his head with great sorrow. Alysanne is crestfallen. She hugs Jaqen tightly. “Please forgive me!” she exclaims, almost forgetting that they are in the middle of a battle.

Wylis Glover says, “Your Grace, the southerners have breached Moat Cailin.”

Alysanne looks up and sees that all three southern flanks are now north of Moat Cailin, though at great cost to their own armies. It’s time.

“Who rules the North?” the queen thunders, suddenly finding volumes of voice she never knew he had. “We do!” reply her Stark soldiers.

“We do not kneel!” shouts Brandon Snow to his Free Folk.

“Macumbo bendrolus!” screams Nymeria to her Sunset Warriors.

It begins. All three northern flanks clash with all three southern flanks.

The small, agile yellow people of the Sunset Land clash with what remains of the Lannister army and the still-full-strength Reach army. Desmond Westerling deals skillfully with several water dancers and stays alive while killing them.

On the other flank, Brandon and his Free Folk are fighting hyper-aggressively, but they have met their match in the Knights of the Vale. Lord Arryn and Mandon Royce are on a rampage, killing plenty of Free Folk.

Dalia Martell is fighting with a long spear that allows her to stab multiple enemies before they can even get near her. Her trusted lieutenant in the Dornish army, Lord Dayne, is fighting with swords in both his hands as his legendary ancestor Arthur Dayne did.

In the centre, Stark and Glover soldiers are locked in a battle of attrition with the invading Baratheon soldiers supported by what remains of the Riverlands army. Olyvar uses his crossbow with great skill to kill several northern soldiers who are ahead of him. But he’s too far from Alysanne to take aim at her.

Ahead of him, next to Alysanne, Wylis Glover fights like a maniac and kills a lot of enemy soldiers to protect his queen. His Glover men provide more backup.

But one Baratheon man gets past them and swings his sword at Alysanne. She ducks in the nick of time, slips her sword between his legs and swings it upwards, savaging his entire groin area. While he bleeds profusely from his private parts, she quickly gets up onto her feet and cuts his throat. She’s pleased that she has killed a man in battle, but a little horrified at the way in which she had to kill him.

Lord Blackwater on the left flank kills over ten enemy soldiers with his formidable skills. But Jon Tarly is very half-hearted. He only kills enemies in self-defense if they attack him.

In front of them, the yellow-skinned Sunset Warriors are coming at them aggressively. Nymeria herself enjoys plunging her sword into plenty of enemies. This is what she relishes the most.

Lanna Lannister senses that her flank is losing. But she has a suggestion for how they can reverse their fortunes.

“Go for the Stark bitch!” she shouts to Desmond Westerling.

Desmond charges at Nymeria. Their swords clash. Nymeria resists. But he’s physically stronger and pushes her sword back with his. Her sword is coming dangerously close to her own face.

Nymeria knows she can’t push him away, so she unexpectedly withdraws, letting his momentum carry him forward and make him fall on his chest. She kicks his sword out of his hand to disarm him.

She brings her sword down. But he gets out of the way and onto his feet.

He quickly pounces at her and grabs her sword-wielding right hand with his left hand, gripping it and preventing her from swinging at him. With his free right hand, he starts strangling her.

Lanna watches from a distance as Desmond incapacitates Nymeria who’s starting to suffocate. Lanna starts smiling. Killing Nymeria would be a body blow to the Stark forces.

Nymeria throws her sword leftwards, catches it with her left hand, and plunges it deep into Desmond’s chest.

Lanna screams as a stunned Desmond falls to the ground, coughing blood, knowing this is the end. He collapses at Nymeria’s feet and bleeds to his inevitable death. As his blood drenches the ground, Nymeria gives Lanna a cold stare that’s as painful as what she has just done to Desmond.

In the centre, Jaqen Reed’s remaining Crannogmen provide backup to the Starks and Glovers by ambushing the enemy soldiers as they usually do. The Riverlands army is pretty much wiped out, with Wylis Glover killing Lord Mallister.

On Brandon’s flank, only the belligerence of the Free Folk means they are still standing. But the Knights of the Vale are on a rampage. As are the Dornish. Lord Dayne kills Lord Manderly, the most major northern lord in that flank.

When there’s a brief respite, Alysanne looks around and takes stock. She’s pleased that Nymeria’s flank has advanced significantly. But when she looks at the other flank, she’s appalled to see that the Free Folk are being pushed back. Brandon is still fighting gamely, but there’s no sign of Lord Manderly. The Knights of the Vale have made major advances and are neutralizing the advantage the North has gained on Nymeria’s flank.

Alysanne thinks quickly. “Jaqen!” she calls him over urgently. He comes running to his queen.

She whispers, “Take your hundred remaining Crannogmen to the left flank and ambush the Knights of the Vale.” The lad obeys unquestioningly.

Wylis says, “Your Grace, that’s a hundred fewer soldiers to protect you.”

The queen replies, “It’s the Free Folk who need protection now.”

As Lord Arryn and Mandon Royce continue their rampage, they suddenly find Crannogmen behind the bushes shooting arrows at them and killing several of their soldiers. Lord Arryn and Mandon Royce themselves find arrows narrowly missing them.

“Retreat!” they shout. Plenty of Knights of the Vale follow their order and retreat to avoid certain massacre.

This emboldens the Free Folk to charge forward and express their formidable fighting skills. Brandon Snow gets into a duel with Lord Dayne. Brandon’s axe deflects both Lord Dayne’s swords adroitly. After several twists and turns in the fight, Brandon finds an avenue to get his axe between Lord Dayne’s two swords and smash it deep into Lord Dayne’s skull. The most formidable Dornish fighter is now dead.

On the other flank, Nymeria’s Sunset Warriors are enjoying complete domination. They start surrounding the enemy soldiers from the outside to push them inwards. Lord Blackwater’s Reach army is now squeezed into the centre. The Lannister army is all but destroyed. Lanna Lannister just retreats away from the action. Losing Desmond has devastated her.

“Counter-attack!” shouts Dalia Martell on the right flank. She bravely runs into the heart of enemy territory and uses her spear to gore several Free Folk soldiers. Her Dornish troops follow her and give tough resistance to the Free Folk. But Jaqen’s Crannogmen are still a threat. They continue raining unexpected arrows at the Dornish.

As Dalia looks around for more enemies to kill, she’s horrified to see Jaqen Reed hiding in a bush near her. Jaqen shoots an arrow at her. Dalia ducks in the nick of time. But more arrows come her way. One arrow from Jaqen pierces her kneecap.

Dalia screams in pain and falls. She can feel bones cracking inside her knee. Luckily for her, Dornish soldiers run at Jaqen and chase him away. They then carry their wounded princess and run back.

“Don’t retreat! Stand and fight!” Dalia shouts at them but they don’t listen. Other Dornish soldiers devastated by their princess’ injury also start retreating.

“Cowards!” she shouts. One of her men replies, “Princess, survive today, fight another day!”

Now the Free Folk also start pushing the Vale and Dornish soldiers inwards. This pincer movement squeezes all action towards the narrow centre. Everyone from Lord Blackwater’s Reach army to the Dornish to Nymeria to Brandon are coming together, squeezing the Stark and Baratheon soldiers who are still locked in the centre.

The Free Folk start attacking the Baratheon soldiers now. The Reach army starts attacking the Stark soldiers. This means that the layers of soldiers separating Olyvar and Alysanne gradually disappear. Now it’s one Stark line before Alysanne and one Baratheon line before Olyvar.

Jon Tarly is close enough to Alysanne that he can see her. His heart sinks. Is he meant to kill this fine queen he admires, or die at her dainty hands? Is this what destiny has in store for him?

A woman of the Ser Brienne Regiment breaks through the Free Folk lines and kills a few Free Folk. But she meets her match when Brandon takes matters into his own hands and cuts her down in her prime.

Alysanne and Olyvar make brief eye contact. The piercing bravery in her eyes meets the naive bravado in his eyes. He wilts, unable to look at her.

Brandon Snow and the Free Folk make progress dealing with the Baratheon soldiers. The line of soldiers immediately before Olyvar are drawn into the fight. Olyvar suddenly has no cover in front of him.

Alysanne spots an opportunity. “Wylis, Olyvar is exposed. Go capture him alive!” she exclaims.

“I won’t leave your side!” Wylis replies.

Alysanne firmly looks him in the eye and says, “This is a command, not a suggestion.”

That’s enough for Wylis to run in pursuit of Olyvar. Olyvar hits a few bolts in his direction, but Wylis blocks them with his shield. He reaches Olyvar, pushes him to the ground, grabs Olyvar’s crossbow and throws it aside.

The Baratheon troops try to rescue their king but the Free Folk annihilate them before they can do anything. Wylis climbs over Olyvar and starts punching him. The Dornish and Vale soldiers are in full retreat. Even the Reach army is thinning out. For the first time, Alysanne dares to contemplate victory.

But Lord Blackwater spots an opportunity. He sees that Alysanne is exposed and charges at her. Even with his armies decimated, he can still win this battle by killing her singlehandedly. Alysanne resists gamely, but he’s a considerably better fighter than her and he swings and slashes dangerously at her. She retreats frantically.

She looks in the direction of Wylis and sees him dragging Olyvar back behind the Stark lines. A battle-deciding move it will be if Wylis can capture Olyvar and take him prisoner. She chooses not to shout at him for help, lest he lets go of Olyvar in order to rescue her.

So Alysanne digs into her reserves of energy to keep a superior fighter at bay. She bends and ducks desperately at times. Only her spirit is keeping her alive.

Wylis successfully drags Olyvar behind Stark lines, where his Glover men help him chain up the captive king.

Lord Blackwater pushes his sword against Alysanne’s and forcefully shoves her sword out of her hands. He corners a disarmed Alysanne and raises his sword. She’s ready to die. She’s not going to beg for mercy. She has done enough to end this war. Her soldiers have Olyvar. Her people will avenge her.

A crossbow bolt flies in and rips through Lord Blackwater’s throat. As he clutches his throat and falls, an incredulous Alysanne looks in the direction the bolt came from. She sees Jon Tarly holding the crossbow that had been thrown out of Olyvar Baratheon’s hands by Wylis Glover. The crossbow Lord Blackwater himself had given Olyvar.

The Glovers have captured Olyvar Baratheon. Most of his armies have been wiped out and the rest are retreating. Now Lord Blackwater is dead. With that, it’s clear that the battle is over and the Starks have won.

Jon Tarly walks over to Alysanne, lays the crossbow at her feet, and kneels in front of her. He has a look of utter devotion in his eyes. The look of a man who finally knows which side he should be on.

That was the moment Alysanne felt maternal towards a man twice her age.

Part 4 of 5: A Chance For Justice

Olyvar Baratheon is chained up, muddy, bloody and on his knees. A triumphant Alysanne appears in front of him. She’s looking scintillating as she has washed up and dressed up. She walks regally and stands over him. A pristine queen towering over a kneeling man who is beaten in every possible way. Never before had the gulf between the winner and the loser of a battle been so visible.

Alysanne takes out her sword. Olyvar is petrified and starts quivering. With a hint of a smile on her lips, the queen places her sword under her prisoner’s chin. Olyvar’s nervousness peaks as the queen puts the fear of death into him.

“Mercy, Your Grace!” he begs.

An unperturbed Alysanne runs her sword over his face, touching his cheek, scraping his forehead, gently dipping into his other cheek such that a drop of blood drips out but no deeper wound is left. She’s toying with her hapless prey.

“Let me live and I will serve you forever!” he exclaims.

“And how do you hope to do that? Clean my slippers every day?” she asks tauntingly.

“I will if that’s what you command!” he cries desperately.

She starts laughing. “To think that six lords and ladies elected you their king! A boy who whimpers like a kitten at the thought of death!”

She then tells her soldiers, “Let him live for now. I have other plans for him.” Olyvar’s relief knows no bounds. At the same time, he’s worried about what those “other plans” are.

Alysanne has discussions with a few of her advisors. Nymeria, Brandon, Wylis Glover, Jaqen Reed, and her newest advisor Jon Tarly.

Alysanne looks at Wylis Glover and says, “Wylis, thank you. You’ll be rewarded richly for this once we get back to the North. I promise.” Wylis looks like these words are sufficient reward.

She then looks at Jaqen Reed and says, “Jaqen, I’m sorry your brother had to die for us.”

Jaqen says, “We cheated, Your Grace. Both of us were ready to die for you, and only one of us did.” Alysanne is touched to the extent that she has no words.

Brandon is not in the mood for serious talk. He gushes hyperactively, “Alys kept saying she can’t fight, but she killed a man, one on one, with no backup. What can I say about a woman who knows how to rule a kingdom, knows how to plan its defense, and can defend it herself if need be? Honestly, my queen, that’s too much greatness in one person. Leave some for the rest of us, will you?”

The mighty queen is now blushing like a little girl.

Nymeria is in a different mood entirely. She says, “I’m curious to know what you’ve planned for your prisoner. Especially if it involves locking him up in the kennels of Winterfell and removing a finger or two!”

“That’s not my idea of justice.” says Alysanne.

“Then what is?” asks Brandon.

“We don’t return north to Winterfell just yet.” says Alysanne. “We go south. To King’s Landing.”

“You’re going to take the six southern kingdoms for yourself and be queen of the seven kingdoms.” says Jon Tarly.

“That’s not my idea of justice either.” says Alysanne.

“Now I’m really curious to know your intentions.” says Nymeria.

“You’ll know when we get to King’s Landing.” says the queen ominously.

The Stark army encircles King’s Landing. Some of them camp outside the city walls. A small group of Stark soldiers accompany Alysanne and her advisors to the Dragonpit. A chained Olyvar is with them.

As they enter the Dragonpit, Nymeria kicks Olyvar in his buttocks. He falls to the ground and struggles with his chains for a while before managing to get back on his feet. Nymeria laughs and looks in Alysanne’s direction. But Alysanne is not amused. She shakes her head disapprovingly. Nymeria gets the point. Alysanne doesn’t want to ill-treat Olyvar. Not in public at least.

Alysanne tells her men, “Get Lady Lannister, Lord Arryn, Lady Tully, Lord Greyjoy and Princess Martell here rightaway.”

Before long, the five who had crowned Olyvar come rushing to the Dragonpit. They are relieved to see Olyvar alive. Dalia Martell is in a wheelchair. Olyvar almost cries upon seeing that.

Dalia is the first to speak. She urgently says, “Queen Alysanne, you’ve defeated us, fair and square. Now I beg you, please spare Olyvar’s life. I will kneel before you the moment I’m able to walk again.”

Lanna Lannister is barely able to suppress her anger at the victorious queen standing in front of her. With scorn in her eyes and voice, she says, “Let me guess. The slut will take King’s Landing and be queen of the seven kingdoms. Olyvar will be her prisoner to ensure that all of us remain loyal to the Crown under her.”

“Lanna Lannister…” Alysanne says with a modicum of contempt. “You think everyone is like you. But what I want is something else.” Everyone’s curiosity is piqued.

The Queen in the North puts forward her stand. “You crowned an unworthy king because six of you liked him. You will now crown a new king or queen. Not because you like him. But because all the people of the six kingdoms will choose him. Every grown man and woman from Seagard to Yronwood will vote for their new ruler. Until you conduct an election for the new ruler and crown that ruler, my army will be in King’s Landing.”

“And what if we refuse?” asks Lanna.

Alysanne replies, “Then Olyvar will die right here. As will the five of you. My thousands of soldiers will ensure that. Most of your soldiers are dead and cannot stop us. Once I’m done with killing the six of you, I will then really take King’s Landing for myself. Then I will attack your families in Casterly Rock, Storm’s End, Sunspear, Riverrun, Pyke, and the Eyrie. Rip them out root and stem. Till no one remains to question my rule of the seven kingdoms.”

The five lords and ladies know they have been checkmated. They either agree to this queen’s demand to conduct a democratic election in Westeros, or lose their lives and their families’ lives and concede all of Westeros to this queen.

“As you wish, Your Grace.” says Dalia Martell. “As long as you will return Olyvar safely to Storm’s End.”

“Princess Dalia…” says Alysanne with compassion. “I will return your man safely to Storm’s End… after the elections have concluded and we have a new king or queen to whom all of you will pledge your undying loyalty.”

“What if you betray us and kill all of us after you’ve crowned a new king or queen?” asks Lord Greyjoy.

“I’m a Stark.” says Alysanne. “Some of us have died because we refused to be dishonorable. I’d rather fall on my sword than to go back on my word and betray people who have acted loyally on my every instruction. So all of you have to do just one thing. Act loyally on my every instruction.”

They have no choice. “We will, Your Grace.” says Lord Arryn. This is echoed by Lady Tully and Lord Greyjoy. But Lanna Lannister stands grumpily for a few seconds. She then says with a fake smile, “As you wish, Your Grace.”

Once the crowd clears, Wylis Glover walks over to Alysanne. With disappointment evident in his voice, he says, “Your Grace, we were all hoping to see you as the queen of the seven kingdoms.”

Alysanne replies, “The south is alien to me. Six kingdoms, peoples and cultures I am unfamiliar with. I won’t be a good ruler in the south. And I will have to neglect the north, the one kingdom I would actually be good at ruling. So I would rather appoint a ruler in the south who is from the south, and is grateful to me for creating the circumstances for his or her ascension to the throne.”

“But how do you know that that ruler will be grateful to you?” asks Wylis. “What if the people elect a selfish piece of shit who’s not even thankful to you but decides to attack the north just like Olyvar did?”

Alysanne turns thoughtful. These are valid points she had not considered amidst her Stark desire to do the right thing.

Most of Alysanne’s soldiers camp outside the city. A sizable force prowls the streets of the city. A smaller posse accompany Alysanne, Nymeria, Brandon, Jon Tarly and the prisoner Olyvar Baratheon to an inn in the city.

Nymeria has a room of her own, as does Brandon, as does Jon Tarly. Alysanne obviously gets the best room.

Olyvar gets a surprisingly decent room. Alysanne accompanies her soldiers as they take Olyvar there. To the prisoner’s surprise, there’s a comfortable bed, and even an attached bathroom.

The queen says, “You will stay here until we have a new king or queen. This room and its attached bathroom both don’t have windows. There will be guards outside this room, and outside the inn. More Stark soldiers prowl the streets of the city. Even more are camped outside the city. In other words, escape is not a possibility. But you won’t have to. We won’t harm you as long as you don’t do anything stupid. You’ll get the same food we get. You’ll get your sheets changed. You will bathe in warm water like the rest of us. Hope you like it here, Lord Baratheon.”

Olyvar is looking really puzzled. Alysanne senses this and asks, “Wondering why I’m treating you humanely and not caging you up like a dog?”

Olyvar nods. Alysanne explains, “It’s because you are not vile. You are just malleable. Easily influenced to show strength you don’t have. Hopeless at defending yourself against a woman’s games. Especially if she’s beautiful and golden-haired and from a privileged rich powerful family.”

“What makes you think it was Lanna Lannister who influenced me to attack the North?” asks Olyvar.

Alysanne says, “She was the angriest person at the Dragonpit. She was bitterly fuming at me for messing up her plans. One interaction with her and I know what she is. She cares for no one but herself. She uses people. She’s wily and unscrupulous in increasing her power. In other words, she’s a Lannister.”

The queen’s entourage makes itself comfortable in the inn. They step out from time to time, accompanied by Stark soldiers. The five lords and ladies who supported Olyvar scurry to make election arrangements.

One evening, a flustered Jon Tarly comes to Alysanne’s room in the inn. Brandon and Nymeria are already there. Jon says, “Your Grace, two candidates have put their names forward for the election.”

“Who are they?” Alysanne is naturally curious.

“One of them is Vargo Mopatis.”

“Who in seven hells is that?” asks Brandon.

Alysanne has heard of him. “The most unscrupulous merchant in the seven kingdoms. He came from Essos with nothing in his pocket, and has now built a fortune. Surely he didn’t do that by asking nicely.”

Jon says, “Now it looks like he has spotted one more opportunity. To be king of the six kingdoms. A great way to increase his fortune. He will care about nothing but his own power and money.”

“Ok, so that one’s not a good candidate. Who’s the other one?” asks Brandon.

Jon Tarly cannot bring himself to say it. Everyone else cannot bear the tension. “Who is it?” asks Alysanne.

“Lanna Lannister.”

Brandon nearly falls off his chair. Nymeria spits out the drink she was sipping. Alysanne wants the ground to open up and swallow her.

“Stop her!” says Nymeria.

“We cannot.” says Alysanne. “We have promised the people of Westeros a fair election. Where anyone has the right to contest. We cannot look like hypocrites now and say it’s a fair election as long as the candidates are people we like.”

Brandon says, “But if a calculating merchant and a scheming Lannister are our only options… we are well and truly fucked.”

“They are not our only options.” says Jon Tarly. “I have a suggestion for a candidate who will rule better than Lanna Lannister and Vargo Mopatis. Someone who’s good at war, but also sees the value in avoiding it. Someone with battle courage but who also knows that there are other and better forms of courage. Someone who will bring peace to the six kingdoms.”

Nymeria and Brandon excitedly turn their heads towards Alysanne, who becomes a bit worried and asks, “Who’s that?”

“Mandon Royce.” replies Jon.

“Who’s that?” Alysanne asks the same question, but now looking a lot more relieved. Nymeria and Brandon are a bit disappointed though.

Jon says, “He fought bravely against you, killing several Free Folk. But before that, he was the only person who publicly called it foolish when Olyvar planned to attack the North. The only person who knew his geography and said Moat Cailin offers a tactical advantage to the North. The only person who knew his history and said the North has never been conquered without dragons. I cannot think of a better candidate. With wise queen Alysanne in the north and wise king Mandon Royce in the south, we will have peace and prosperity in Westeros.”

“Let’s call him here rightaway and ask him if he’s interested.” decides Alysanne.

Mandon Royce arrives in King’s Landing and goes straight to the inn housing Alysanne and company.

Mandon begins. “Your Grace, my apologies for killing your soldiers.”

“We were at war.” Alysanne says forgivingly. “Now we are at war again, but on the same side, against our common enemies. Do you know why you are here?”

“To discuss my candidacy for king of the six kingdoms.” says Mandon.

Jon Tarly says, “ We want you to contest the election because you are a man of courage and intelligence. Each of those qualities is dangerous without the other. But you have both. And you know the importance of peace. You have empathy for the smallfolk who die for nothing each time the 1% plays their game of thrones.”

Alysanne says, “We know that being king was not even in the remotest corners of your mind. Your house is not even the ruling house of the Vale. But given an opportunity, will you be king of the six kingdoms?”

Mandon is amused by the question. He replies, “Why do you think I came all this way?”

Part 5 of 5: For The Throne

The next morning, election preparations begin at the inn. Several more people have gathered to plan the campaign of Mandon Royce. These people include northerners who contributed to the battle victory, such as Wylis Glover, Jaqen Reed, Lord Cerwyn, Lady Dustin, Lord Hornwood, Lady Tallhart and Lord Flint.

Grand Maester Samwell and Gilly arrive at the inn, along with now not-so-little Sam Tarly, the 72-year-old new lord of the Reach after the extinction of House Blackwater from their own crossbow.

Grand Maester Samwell goes straight to Brandon Snow and says excitedly, “Your grandfather Jon Snow was my best friend! Actually my only friend! I named my youngest son after him! This here is Gilly, my wife of many years! She’s of the Free Folk! Which means technically she’s your king!”

Everyone bursts out laughing. Samwell realizes his error and says, “Which means technically you are her king!”

Once the laughter subsides, his son Sam Tarly says, “We are going back to Horn Hill before Olyvar’s supporters do something to us for our treason against Olyvar. Good news is, I am now the lord of the Reach, with the entire Reach’s army behind me. And I will do everything possible to convince the citizens of the Reach to vote for Mandon Royce.”

Mandon Royce says, “I’m worried about Lord Arryn, because he’s my liege lord, and if I become king, I’d suddenly be more powerful than him.”

Alysanne replies, “As you know very well, it’s often better to make peace than to make war. Let’s call Lord Arryn here and explain what he and the Vale stand to gain from having a king from the Vale. Reassure him that you’ll continue to do everything that’s in the interests of the Vale after you become king of six kingdoms.”

“We’ll try that for the Vale.” says Jon Tarly. “As for the Stormlands, I have an idea. We have Lord Baratheon as our prisoner. Let’s send ravens to Lord Tarth, Lady Selmy, Lord Seaworth and other major lords and ladies of the Stormlands. These letters will be from Olyvar Baratheon, but with our words. If those lords and ladies want Lord Baratheon to be returned safely, they will have no choice but to campaign for Mandon Royce.”

“Olyvar Baratheon’s girlfriend rules Dorne, and is expected to recover from her kneecap injury.” says Alysanne. “I could have Olyvar write to Dalia Martell and tell her to campaign for Mandon Royce in Dorne.”

“The Westerlands are likely to vote for Lanna Lannister. They’d love to have a queen from their kingdom.” says Sam Tarly.

“I’m struggling to find an angle for the Riverlands and the Iron Islands though.” says Mandon Royce.

Grand Maester Samwell intervenes. “We shouldn’t be thinking of trivial little angles for each kingdom. We need a platform for our whole campaign. Something we stand for. This will be unchanging regardless of whether we’re campaigning in the Vale, or the Reach, or Dorne, or the Riverlands.”

“The Grand Maester is absolutely right.” Alysanne is the first to vouch for him. “What’s that one thing we stand for? Let’s think!” She’s very excited.

Jon Tarly says, “What about… bring back the glory of Westeros.”

His brother Sam Tarly says, “What glory? The time Aegon’s dragons burned twenty thousand men on the Field of Fire? Or the time brother burned sister in front of nephew during the Dance of the Dragons? Or the time five kings drenched the continent in blood? Or the time a queen burned King’s Landing?”

His father Grand Maester Samwell says, “I agree. When was there ever glory in Westeros that we can bring back?”

The 88-year-old Lady Gilly who hasn’t uttered a word so far says, “Maybe it’s not about bringing back something Westeros once had. Maybe it’s about promising something we’ve never had.”

“And what’s that?” asks Mandon Royce.

“Peace.” says Lady Gilly. “A world where peasant boys and girls are not taken away from their families to fight the wars of kings and queens who will never know their names… who won’t take a scratch on their own royal bodies for those boys and girls… but will make those boys and girls bleed and die for them.”

Nymeria is the first to notice that Alysanne is crying. As Nymeria hugs Alysanne, everyone else turns towards them.

Alysanne says amidst tears, “We killed a lot of those peasant boys and girls… I killed a boy myself… I gored his balls and cut his throat… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

“We were at war.” says Mandon, helpfully offering her own words back to her when she needs it the most.

Alysanne collects herself quickly. She says, “Peace may not be the most catchy or exciting thing we can offer. But it’s what this continent needs. Not even one more family in one more corner of this continent should let their sons and daughters die for someone else’s trivial game of war.”

“Let’s do this!” says Mandon Royce decisively. “I’m confident that people will see the value of what we offer and vote for us!”

Grand Maester Samwell says, “Let’s distill this down into one line, shall we? How about… I come in peace.”

“It shouldn’t have I or me… no selfish terminology.” says Mandon. “No one can do it alone.”

Alysanne says, “Make peace. How about that? Just two words.”

Brandon says, “That’s good. But let’s add a bit of what Mandon is saying about doing it together.”

“I’ve got it.” says Mandon. “Let’s make peace.”

Alysanne says, “I like this. It’s decisive. It’s crystal clear. And it’s inclusive. But on its own, it means nothing. You need to expand that into entire speeches that you will make to the people of Westeros. Good news is, you have just the team to help you do that. The Queen in the North, The Queen of the Sunset Land, The King Beyond The Wall, the Lord of the Reach, and the Grand Maester of King’s Landing. Let’s do this… let’s make peace!”

The now-closely-knit gang gets active in election preparations. Alysanne arranges for seamstresses to arrive from Winterfell to sew thousands of banners that are distributed across the six kingdoms. The Stark soldiers camping outside the city do the boring work of transporting the banners across the continent, but they do it with great gusto.

After making several valuable contributions, Grand Maester Samwell, Lady Gilly and Sam Tarly head back to Horn Hill. They get busy campaigning for Mandon Royce in the Reach.

Alysanne ensures (via Lord Arryn, Lady Tully and Lord Greyjoy) that the Maesters of the Citadel are the ones who conduct the elections. Theoretically, at least, they are the most neutral people in the seven kingdoms. Archmaester Erwyn of the Citadel is the head of the entire election committee.

Mandon Royce leaves for an election tour of the six kingdoms, accompanied by a company of Stark soldiers, plus Jon Tarly, Wylis Glover and Jaqen Reed.

Alysanne, Brandon and Nymeria see them off at the city gates. Mandon recaps his itinerary. “Duskendale and Maidenpool in the Crownlands, then up to the Inn at the Crossroads. From there, a courtesy trip home to the Vale, then back to the Inn at the Crossroads, and further west into the Riverlands. Then southwards to the Westerlands and Reach. Then a detour to Dorne, north to the Stormlands, and back here.”

“Stay safe, Lord Royce.” says Alysanne.

“I have nothing to worry about.” says Mandon. “I’ll be with northmen who defended the Queen in the North herself.”

Once they see off the entourage, Alysanne returns to the heart of the city with Brandon and Nymeria. Along the way, they see a banner that says:

VARGO MOPATIS. MAKE WESTEROS GRATE AGAIN.

“Is he talking about cheese?” quips Brandon.

Alysanne has a revelation to make. “That banner was commissioned by Lanna Lannister.”

“What?” Nymeria is mystified.

Alysanne continues, “I’ve heard she has commissioned a lot of Vargo Mopatis banners with spelling mistakes to discredit him. Good thing we started our campaign late. If not, she would have had posters for us too. Ones where “peace” is spelled like a vegetable.”

“Lanna Lannister…” fumes Nymeria. “She sinks lower and lower than anyone expects.”

Alysanne says, “Sometimes I feel the gods have ordained that two powerful women will always be adversaries. Because if women were united, our collective intelligence would simply take over the world. And men… simple-minded little boys that they are… would have no clue of how to stop us!”

While Mandon Royce is campaigning across the six kingdoms, the posse that remains in King’s Landing campaigns for him in the Crownlands.

In their spare time at the inn, Nymeria keeps coming up with ideas to torment Olyvar. “Let’s take turns to fight him in his room, but he’ll fight with a wooden sword and we’ll fight with our regular swords.” “Let’s poison him and give him an antidote at the last possible moment.” “Let’s tell him when he wakes up that we cut off his cock in the middle of the night.”

Alysanne shoots down all these ideas. She says, “Nym, I love you to death, but your penchant for cruelty will make you a lousy queen if you don’t check it.” Nymeria says, “Alys, I love you to death too, that’s why I’m not angry with you but I think you’re absolutely right.”

One evening, Alysanne asks Brandon, “What happens after we go back to Winterfell?”

Brandon replies, “We drink. We celebrate. We be merry.”

“You know that’s not what I’m asking.” she says. She then moves in and kisses him.

Brandon says with some difficulty, “I’m trying my best to stop myself from loving you. You’re not making it easy for me.”

“Why do you stop yourself from loving me?” she asks with curiosity mixed with disappointment.

He replies, “Because if I love you, I won’t be able to leave Winterfell. I won’t take my people back to our homeland. I will keep them south of the Wall. I will rule them from a castle just like a southern king. That’s not our way.”

“What is “our way” can change, can’t it?” she asks obstinately. She doesn’t like taking no for an answer.

He continues, “What do you think will happen when a hundred thousand of us are surrounded by a million of you? We will assimilate into your kingdom, losing ourselves within a generation. It would be an affront to everything the Free Folk stands for. An unforgivable insult to Joramun, Bael The Bard, Mance Rayder, and of course… Jon Snow.”

Alysanne is disappointed, but she understands. She even manages a smile. This doesn’t make her admire him any less. After all, his desire to do the right thing whenever possible is precisely what made her admire him in the first place.

Mandon Royce returns to King’s Landing exhausted from campaigning. Back at the inn, he and his friends are satisfied with their preparations. They’ve done all they can.

Election day comes across the seven kingdoms. It takes several more days for the votes to be collected and brought to King’s Landing. The votes are not counted locally in the kingdoms themselves, so that there’s no localized fraud. Now that all the votes are in King’s Landing, the maesters of the Citadel keep a hawk-like eye on the counting. The surroundings of the Dragonpit start accumulating a mountain of these vote boxes.

Counting takes several more days. The inhabitants of the inn try not to be nervous. They take their mind off things by playing cyvasse, the ancient board game of Westeros that’s about armies and wars. Alysanne repeatedly beats everyone else, showing that she’s a better thinker than those who may be better fighters than her.

The day comes when everyone gathers at the Dragonpit for the announcement of election results. Mandon Royce arrives, accompanied of course by Alysanne, Nymeria, Brandon and Jon Tarly.

In another corner of the Dragonpit sits Vargo Mopatis and his entourage of at least twenty people. He’s a tanned, dark-haired man of Essosi features who is disguising his foreign looks with a very Westerosi dressing style. He’s easily sixty and has a lifetime of money-making behind him, and that’s somehow evident on his face. He looks like someone who knows the world and now wants to rule it.

Mandon’s faction notices that Lanna Lannister is sitting with a collection of unknown men, presumably minor lords from the Westerlands. Interestingly, her erstwhile supporters like Lord Arryn, Lady Tully and Lord Greyjoy are sitting a considerable distance away from her, in a neutral area. It’s like they want to cut their losses with Lanna and be neutral until the new ruler is announced.

The election committee led by Archmaester Erwyn returns to the Dragonpit.

“The counting has concluded. We will know our next king or queen shortly.” says the Archmaester.

“First up. The results from the Crownlands including King’s Landing.

“Vargo Mopatis, 847,000. Lanna Lannister, 136,000. Mandon Royce, 369,000.”

Disappointment is writ upon the faces of the Mandon faction.

“Next, the Riverlands. Vargo Mopatis, 245,000. Lanna Lannister, 87,000. Mandon Royce, 338,000.”

The Mandon faction looks hopeful again. “I didn’t expect to get the Riverlands vote.” says Mandon. “We’re still behind.” says Jon Tarly.

“Next, the Vale.”

“This will matter a lot. If we are to win, we will need the Vale.” says Alysanne.

“Vargo Mopatis, 148,000. Lanna Lannister, 36,000. Mandon Royce, 763,000.”

Brandon Snow screams in joy. He then realizes he’s looking like a fool.

Everyone is trying to mentally calculate what the sum totals are so far. Then Archmaester Erwyn helpfully says, “The total votes are now 1,240 thousand for Vargo Mopatis, 259 thousand for Lanna Lannister, and 1,470 thousand for Mandon Royce.”

The Mandon faction is smiling widely now.

“Next, Dorne. Vargo Mopatis, 346,000. Lanna Lannister, 47,000. Mandon Royce, 188,000.”

“It’s distressingly even again.” fumes Nymeria. “The Dornish probably felt a merchant would increase their wealth.” says Jon Tarly.

“Next, the Westerlands. Vargo Mopatis, 63,000. Lanna Lannister, 639,000. Mandon Royce, 81,000.”

“We were always going to lose the Westerlands to Lanna.” comments Mandon. “It’s still between us and Vargo Mopatis.”

“Now, the Iron Islands. Vargo Mopatis, 127,000. Lanna Lannister, 19,000. Mandon Royce, 36,000.”

The Mandon gang groans. Their lead seems to have gone, though no one is keeping up with the maths.

Except Archmaester Erwyn of course. “The total count is now 1,776 thousand for Vargo Mopatis, 964 thousand for Lanna Lannister, and 1,775 thousand for Mandon Royce.”

Everyone is stunned at how close this is. Just a thousand separates the two main challengers. Just two kingdoms left.

“Next up, the Stormlands. Vargo Mopatis, 245,000. Lanna Lannister, 128,000. Mandon Royce, 313,000.”

The Mandon gang has guarded relief. They have now inched ahead, with one kingdom to go.

“Total count is now 2,021 thousand for Vargo Mopatis, 1,092 thousand for Lanna Lannister, and 2,088 thousand for Mandon Royce. A lead of just 67,000 for Mandon Royce. With one kingdom, the Reach, to go.”

Mandon, Alysanne, Nymeria, Brandon and Jon Tarly sit closer, almost in a medieval huddle. “The Tarlys have done everything possible to steer the Reach to us.” promises Jon Tarly.

Brandon says, “Now we just have to hope it’s enough. We’re leading. Even if the Reach is a tie, we win.”

Archmaester Erwyn prolongs the suspense deliberately. Then he says, “The Reach, the last kingdom left to be counted. Vargo Mopatis, 347,000. Lanna Lannister, 96,000. Mandon Royce… three hundred and… sixty one thousand!”

The Mandon Royce faction erupts in unadulterated joy! Brandon Snow screams so loudly that he cannot hear himself think. Nymeria is next loudest. Jon Tarly explodes like a child. Mandon Royce himself is numb in the moment. The woman who made it all possible, Alysanne Stark, is quietly blissful amidst the pandemonium.

Archmaester Erwyn shouts, “To King Mandon Royce!”

Everyone in the crowd stands up and applauds. Everyone except Lanna Lannister, who charges out of the Dragonpit, hoping no one notices. Vargo Mopatis and his faction are gracious in defeat and are the first to come and congratulate the new king.

Lord Greyjoy, Lady Tully and Lord Arryn walk over next. Lord Greyjoy kneels before Mandon Royce and says, “Your Grace, accept my undying loyalty.” Lady Tully is next to do the same.

Lord Arryn is about to kneel when Mandon Royce says, “You shouldn’t kneel before me, my lord. I’ve been your bannerman from the day I was born.”

Lord Arryn doesn’t kneel, but he says, “Now I’m your bannerman, Your Grace. Make us proud!”

Once the mayhem quietens down, Archmaester Erwyn says, “Tomorrow morning, once the sun rises, the High Septon will officially crown King Mandon Royce. See you in the Red Keep tomorrow.”

“Arise, King Mandon Royce, First of His Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Six Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” announces the High Septon in the Red Keep.

“Long may he reign!” “Long may he reign!” “Long may he reign!” echo the lords and ladies who have gathered. No one says it louder than Alysanne, Nymeria and Brandon.

Mandon Royce addresses the six kingdoms for the first time. “Thank you. Thank you to the people of the six kingdoms who have put their faith in me, and in what we stand for. Peace. Peace that all of us have to make… together. That’s why I’ve always said “Let’s make peace”, the operative word being “let’s”. Because none of us can do it alone.”

He then says, “Lord Jon Tarly, I would make you my Hand of the King, if you would accept it.”

Jon Tarly looks deeply privileged. “I will do it with great honor, Your Grace.”

Mandon continues, “And most of all, I wish to thank the finest ruler I have seen in my life. The Queen in the North, Queen Alysanne Stark. I have a lot to learn from her about caring for the people of a kingdom, doing everything it takes to ensure their greater good, and inspiring their eternal loyalty. If I can be half the ruler she is, that would make me an excellent ruler.”

Brandon and Nymeria scream, “The Queen in the North!” For a moment it’s hard to remember whose crowning this is.

After declarations of loyalty from the usual suspects, the crowd breaks for a feast. Following which, there are lots of casual conversations all around.

Once a lot of pleasantries have been exchanged, Alysanne and Jon Tarly have more practical matters to discuss with Mandon.

Alysanne says, “Your Grace, you’ve been crowned. But have you thought about who you can trust? Which of the armies pledged to you are truly loyal to you?”

“Of course I’ve thought about it.” says Mandon. “Five hundred Royce men from Runestone have arrived in King’s Landing and will be with me at all times. Lord Arryn has pledged the rest of the Knights of the Vale to me, and I trust his desire to defend the first king from the Vale. The Tarlys of the Reach are people I would trust with my life, and they have the biggest army of all six kingdoms. Then there’s the City Watch and the Kingsguard, sworn to defend the Crown at all times.”

Jon Tarly says, “That should be more than enough. Besides, I expect Lord Greyjoy and Lady Tully to behave, because they have seen what happens when they don’t. And I forgot to tell you. Dalia Martell sent a raven from Sunspear pledging undying loyalty to King Mandon Royce.”

“She loves Olyvar and his safety is of paramount importance to her.” says Alysanne. “I don’t expect her to betray us. Also, I think Olyvar himself has learned his lesson. Those two are stupid, but not so stupid that they’ll lose the second chance at life that we’ve given them.”

“The one I’m truly worried about is Lanna Lannister. She’s not even here today. The only one who has neither attended nor sent a raven.” says Jon Tarly.

“Now that one is stupid enough to lose the second chance we’ve given her.” says Alysanne. “Your Grace, as long as Lanna Lannister is there, your rule will never be entirely secure.”

“I don’t think she’ll get any more support from the Greyjoys, Tullys, Arryns, Baratheons and Martells.” says Jon Tarly.

“But she’s still a threat we need to deal with. What’s your plan if you need even more soldiers than you currently have?” asks Alysanne.

Mandon finally looks a bit unsure. “I’ll think of something. Maybe the Second Sons from Essos.” he plucks out a thought from thin air.

“The North remembers, Your Grace.” says Alysanne. “When House Stark was on the verge of destruction, the Knights of the Vale led by your great-grandfather Yohn Royce rode in and won the Battle of the Bastards for us. If you ever need reinforcements to strengthen your rule… I’m sure you have a raven that knows the way to Winterfell.”

She hugs Mandon in a way that’s not romantic, not sisterly, not motherly, but loving nonetheless. Jon Tarly smiles, glad that Westeros is in good hands in both the north and the south.

Once the festivities of the crowning are over, Alysanne and her advisors return to the inn for the night.

“So, tomorrow we return Olyvar to the Stormlands.” says Alysanne. “A few Stormlands men arrive in King’s Landing in the morning to take him back safely.”

Nymeria whispers something in Alysanne’s ear. Alysanne laughs. “This time I like your suggestion!”

Olyvar is in his room, relieved that his captivity is nearly over. Just one more night, he tells himself.

Suddenly, a few Stark men unexpectedly enter his room and catch hold of him. He tries to resist but there are too many of them. They strip him naked, carry him to Alysanne’s room, and deposit him on the bed. They tie his four limbs to the four legs of the bed.

The men leave. Alysanne enters.

“What are you going to do?” asks a terrified Olyvar. He’s relieved to see that she’s not carrying any weapons.

Alysanne walks closer and says, “I promised your people that I’ll return you unharmed, and I intend to keep that promise.”

She starts taking off her clothes.

“You’re going to rape me!” he exclaims.

She says, “The world is already laughing at you for losing to me in battle. Now you want them to laugh at you for being raped by me?”

“No!” he cries.

“It’s not rape if you want it. So tell me, don’t you want to sleep just once with an unattainable queen? A woman who’s too strong for you and has shown it in front of the whole world? You won’t get this chance again, you know.”

“I want it.” he blurts out, and immediately wonders if he has overstepped.

“I thought so too!” she chuckles.

She climbs over him. She runs her left hand over his right chest. “This is my left flank smashing your Vale and Dornish armies.” He’s starting to get aroused already.

She runs her right hand over his left chest. “This is my right flank smashing your Lannister and Blackwater armies.” He’s even more turned on now.

She then says, “This is me capturing you and winning the war”. She moves in and kisses him aggressively. He’s almost ready to come now.

The next morning, a small group of men arrive and get ready to escort Olyvar back to Storm’s End. They gratefully greet Alysanne and sincerely thank her.

Alysanne smiles warmly at Olyvar, almost as if they didn’t fight a bloody battle recently. Olyvar still has a little bit of fear for her, which amuses her.

She says, “Our two great houses have always been friends. I hope we never have to face each other across a battlefield again.”

“We won’t, Your Grace.” he promises. “Every breath I take is your mercy, and House Baratheon will never forget this mercy.”

“A word of advice, Lord Baratheon. As long as you can be easily swayed by the Lanna Lannisters of this world, you are not a man. You are still a boy. A cock doesn’t make a man. A spine does.” Olyvar nods appreciatively because he knows this is true.

By the afternoon, the Stark entourage themselves pack up and head north.

They move northwards through a Moat Cailin that greets them with decomposing dead bodies. Neither the winning side nor the losing side had the time to clear the bodies.

“We need to burn these bodies before they spread disease!” Alysanne says urgently. Her men spring into action to do just that.

As the bodies are being burned, Alysanne looks very shaken. She says, “We are calling them bodies. Dehumanizing them. But all these people have families somewhere.” She sheds a few tears.

She then collects herself and says, “Maybe I’m too emotional. Maybe I need less of a heart.”

“Don’t ever say that!” Nymeria disagrees vehemently. “Those who want to undermine you will say you’re too emotional. As if emotion is weakness. But I have learned by observing you that emotion is strength.”

Brandon adds his thoughts. “Emotion leads to empathy. Empathy leads to responsibility. Responsibility leads to leadership. Fighting came naturally to me, but I had to learn empathy before the Free Folk accepted me as a true king. Though I had the name for it.”

Once they reach Winterfell, Torrhen and Wylla greet them with hugs. Other northern lords and ladies have gathered to receive their victorious queen. A painter presents her with a painting of a she-wolf plunging her fangs into the neck of a stag. Everyone around her is energetic. But the queen herself is exhausted and goes to sleep.

The next morning, Brandon Snow and his Free Folk are packing up in the Winterfell courtyard. Alysanne looks longingly at him. She then walks over. He notices her and greets her. “My queen.”

“We were not meant to be, were we?” asks Alysanne.

“My place is in the north.” says Brandon. “The real north. Furthering my grandfather’s legacy.”

“And my place is here, furthering my grandmother’s legacy.” says Alysanne.

“My queen, I’m not the only man here who was willing to die for you. Hundreds of men were. Each one of them will be a worthy consort to you if you were to choose them.”

Alysanne replies, “The problem is, most of those men obey me obsessively. They are dominated by hierarchy. I’m a queen. They are just a lord. That thought possesses them and terrifies them. I can’t imagine such men ever sleeping with me. They’ll be so petrified that their cocks will fold inwards.”

Nymeria comes over. “My people are packed and ready to leave too.”

Alysanne cannot resist hugging her sister one more time. “Do you really have to leave?” she asks with sadness.

Nymeria says, “The seas between here and the Sunset Land are not as treacherous as many think. The peril is in our minds. You’ll see me here again before long. And not just in the event of one more war. And I’m very sure I’ll be hosting you, Torrhen and Wylla at Winterhold before long.”

“I hope Westeros has shown you enough hospitality.” says Alysanne.

“Oh, more than enough.” says Nymeria and looks at her stomach.

“What?” Alysanne and Brandon are both astonished.

“It took a king to do it.” says Nymeria.

Alysanne turns to Brandon in glee mixed with horror.

Nymeria turns panicky and says, “No, not Brandon! It’s the king we elected!”

“Mandon Royce put a baby in you?” Alysanne is astonished again.

“How do you think we spent so many nights at the inn?” says Nymeria.

“You didn’t take moon tea like I usually do after sex?” asks Alysanne.

Nymeria explains, “You see, I wanted his baby. A good, strong and intelligent man is a rarity. I wanted my heir to have those qualities. A brave little queen I’ll name Alysanne… or a brave little king I’ll name Brandon.” Both Alysanne and Brandon are moved by this.

“Does Mandon Royce know?” asks Brandon.

“Oh yes.” says Nymeria. “He was pleased at the diplomatic possibilities between Westeros and the Sunset Land.”

“This is why we elected him!” says Alysanne. “He’s happier about diplomatic possibilities than about becoming a father!”

Brandon and Nymeria are both outside Winterfell with their respective armies, ready to leave. They are emotional, as is Alysanne.

The Queen in the North hugs her two guests together, and says, “Grey wolf… white wolf… yellow wolf… it doesn’t matter. We are a pack.”

“When the snows fall…” says Nymeria.

“… And the white winds blow…” says Brandon.

“… The lone wolf dies…” says Alysanne.

“… But the pack survives.” say all three of them together. They hug tighter. They want this moment to last forever.

That evening, the great hall of Winterfell is emptier than usual. But it still has northern lords and ladies who have yet to return to their respective keeps.

Alysanne takes her seat at the head of the hall, to thundering applause from the crowd. Torrhen and Wylla flank her the way Brandon and Nymeria did.

“To the Queen in the North!” the northern lords and ladies raise their glasses.

“To an independent North!” the queen raises her glass.

Once they settle, she continues. “Lord Manderly died in battle, leaving behind Lady Manderly and their young son and daughter. In honor of this ultimate service, House Manderly will receive the lands formerly held by House Bolton and House Karstark, making them the lords of the entire eastern side of the North.” Lady Manderly is in the crowd and is touched.

“Jaqen Reed, your brother Jojen died in battle. For this ultimate service, House Reed will be rewarded with Bear Island and Flint’s Finger.” Jaqen Reed is moved too.

“Wylis Glover, you fought bravely by my side, kept me alive, and ended the battle by capturing Olyvar Baratheon. You are the hero of the battle. Your reward will be anything your heart desires.”

“Anything?” Wylis is surprised.

“As long as it’s not too ridiculous.”

Wylis ponders long and hard and decides to take his chance.

“Marry me, Your Grace.”

A commotion erupts in the hall. Murmurs abound. Is this daredevilry or stupidity? Is he about to be laughed off from Winterfell?

Alysanne milks this moment. She lets the commotion die down. Then she looks firmly at Wylis Glover. Everyone tries to read her mind. Most of all, Wylis. But she gives no one any clue of what she’s thinking. Let the crowd wonder a bit longer. Let the lad suffer a bit longer.

“Done!” she exclaims with a smile.

A different commotion erupts in the hall, this time one of joy.

Wylis is overcome with emotion. He bows slightly and instinctively. “Thank you, Your Grace!”

“Start calling me by my name soon!” she tells him with another smile. H