A/N: Sorry this has taken so long, but it's finally here! This is the end, I am actually letting go of this story haha. I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and added this as a favourite. I am so very grateful to you all. I hope you enjoy the last installment, and if you'd like to leave one more review for old times sake then that would be awesome.

Thanks for being patient for this, and thanks for being incredible supports!

:)

Epilogue: Tourney

Twenty years later…

Summerhall

Jon smiled in satisfaction as he looked around the gleaming, new tourney ground, the beams glinting in the sunlight and the smell of fresh sawdust filling his nostrils. It had taken many years to restore Summerhall to its former glory but it had been done and Jon and his family had taken residence there the previous year. Steffon had remained behind at Storm's End which he had taken control of when he had reached eighteen. They had been back to visit him a few times, most recently for his wedding to Bethany Tully. That was one of the reasons Jon had suggested throwing the tourney, to celebrate their recent union.

Shrieks of laughter and delight reached his ears then and he turned, expecting his daughters, a smile coming to his face when he saw that he was indeed right. Marcia seemed to poise herself with far more dignity that her younger siblings, walking tall behind them as Lyanna and Eleira shoved and giggled with one another as they approached the tourney ground. It did not seem so long ago that Marcia would join in with them but she was a woman grown now, nineteen and recently betrothed. She would meet Daven Martell at this tourney and Jon knew she was nervous and determined to make a good impression before their wedding, which was due to take place a few months from now. That would mean a trip to Dorne, and everyone already seemed most excited about the prospect.

The seamstresses would be kept busy indeed over the next months, Jon wagered. That was the peril of having a wife and three daughters he supposed, though he would never dare complain about it. Thank the Gods he had little Ned now that they were parted from Steffon, without a little male company in his life Jon imagined that he would go utterly mad. Ned had been a surprise, born three years ago when both he and Margaery had been almost certain that they would have no more children. It had been a difficult birth, with more complications than Jon cared to remember, but he had arrived eventually, red faced and squalling. He smiled wistfully when he remembered Margaery's exhausted but triumphant smile. "There, I know you have had to be patient…but you have your son and heir at last."

"Girls!" Jon waved them over as they drew closer, "What do you think of it?"

"It's perfect father, I cannot wait for everyone to arrive and the tourney to begin!" Lyanna grinned.

"How many knights are coming?" Eleira asked him.

"None that I would care to betroth you to, that's for certain," Jon told her and she pouted.

"Who do you wager will win?" Marcia asked next.

"I think any man would still have a hard time beating your uncle Bran," Jon smiled.

"Will you wager?" Eleira inquired.

"The way you girls are spending coin on dresses I will have to wager, if only to win some coin back," Jon teased them and they all burst into giggles at once.

Robb rode at the side of his father as they entered the main courtyard, both of them scanning their surroundings. Over the years since spring had come and been followed by summer there had been many a tourney held at various great venues across the kingdoms. This was the first at the newly restored Summerhall though and Robb marvelled at how well it had been rebuilt. Everything looked so new and grand. He grinned as they halted their procession, his eyes finding Jon and his family waiting to receive them at the doors. "Little Ned has grown," Robb commented to his father as they dismounted. "Children have a tendency to do that, you should know," his father retorted and Robb nodded his agreement, thinking of his own three as he moved to help Dany down from her horse.

"This place is incredible," she said wondrously as he settled her feet down on the ground. He murmured his agreement, allowing her a moment to survey her new surroundings as he moved to help their daughter from her horse before Ralf Greyjoy could get any ideas. Catrin was fifteen and growing far too beautiful for her own good, Robb would wager that Ralf had begun thinking of her as more than a friend a long time ago. "Where's your brother?" Robb asker her, his eyes scanning the large party that had come from Winterfell, seeking out Benjen in the crowd. "He has been badgering uncle Bran the whole way," Catrin reported to him and Robb was unsurprised. "Your uncle Bran needs a taste of his own medicine believe me," he told her and she grinned before her attention was caught by Dany ushering her along.

Robb's eyes found Edric before they found Benjen, his eldest son carefully leading his wife through the crowd and towards the keep. Alysanne kept one of her hands resting on her slightly swollen stomach and Robb shook his head slightly. He still could not believe that he was set to be a grandfather in mere months. Sometimes he looked at Edric and wondered where the time had gone. It had seemed like the blink of an eye since he had been born and all of a sudden he had been agreeing his match to Torrhen Karstark's eldest daughter. Now they were set to be parents and Robb's head had not stopped spinning since the announcement had been made. "Benjen, come now!" he called out, finally spotting his younger son, still indeed seeming badgering Bran.

Benjen came with a rather sulky look on his face to which Robb raised his brows. "None of that," he said, "if your mother catches you with that look on your face there will be trouble." Benjen scowled for a moment before he rearranged his features into far more gracious ones. "Better?" his son asked and Robb chuckled, ruffling his hair before placing his arm around his shoulders and steering him towards the keep. "Will you enter the lists father?" Benjen asked him and Robb shook his head at once. "By the Gods no, I am too old…best leave it to the young knights," he said.

"I wish I could enter the lists," Benjen sighed wistfully and Robb tried to keep the smile from his face, Gods he was like Bran. "You are only ten, you have a few years yet before you are entering anything," Robb told him as they approached the steps of the keep, Dany and Catrin already embracing everyone and exchanging greetings. "Good to see you," Jon grinned as they arrived and Robb grinned back, releasing his hold on Benjen and moving forward to embrace Jon. "How was your journey?" Jon asked him when they broke apart.

"Good," Robb nodded, "long but good."

"By the Gods, he's grown!" his mother exclaimed just behind him when she caught sight of little Ned who was clinging to Marcia's leg.

"And pretending to be shy," Margaery commented, "it's such a shame he cannot always be like that."

"Have any of the others arrived yet?" Robb asked as everyone else continued with their greetings.

"Steffon's banners have been seen so he ought to be here soon, and Aegon is scheduled to arrive before sundown with the Royal court," Jon told him.

"Will we be feasting tonight?" Dany asked.

"Naturally," Margaery smiled, "but I would wager you could all use some wine beforehand?"

"One would not say no," Dany smiled back at her.

"Then come on," Jon gestured towards the keep, "come and see what we've done with the place."

"Looks like we arrived just in time," Steffon commented from the doorway and his mother was up on her feet at once, abandoning the wine she had just been poured. "Gods, we didn't hear a thing or we would have been out to greet you!" she exclaimed, catching him in an embarrassingly tight embrace which he returned before gently prising her away. "No matter, likely you were all making too much noise," he said and she swatted his arm lightly before she moved to greet his wife. Steffon in his turn moved his attention to embrace his step-father. "Father," he greeted as they embraced swiftly before breaking apart; "this place looks amazing."

"Worth all the trouble in the end," his step-father grinned at him and Steffon nodded his agreement before greeting his sisters. "Come and sit down Bethany," his mother was ushering his wife to a place as he finally managed to prise Eleira away before Ned clamped himself around his leg. "What's gotten into him?" Steffon asked, bending down and hauling his little brother up and setting him on his hip. "Apparently he's shy," his mother told him wryly and he chuckled, poking the little boy in the ribs lightly until he coaxed a giggle out of him. "That's better," Steffon said with a grin before he made his way over to sit next to Bethany. Ned seemed to cling even tighter around his neck as he did so and he sighed heavily.

"Must you Ned?" he asked exasperatedly, "Come now…you remember Bethany?" Ned stubbornly shook his head at his words and Steffon sighed again, sending his wife an apologetic look. "It has been some time," Bethany said in understanding. "Don't take it personally," Lady Stark spoke up, "he has been this way with all of us."

"How is everyone?" Steffon asked the group at large and everyone seemed to murmur happy sentiments towards him and he nodded, a smile on his face. He raised a brow as he set his eyes on Alysanne, his eyes sliding from her to Edric; "some are better than others I would wager," he said with a wink and Edric grinned at him. "Aye, I can't complain," Edric said, the wide smile on his face as he moved his hand to lay affectionately on his wife's stomach. "Are your mother and father coming Bethany?" Lady Stark asked, "I did write to Edmure but you know what he's like."

"They will arrive tomorrow, mother has been trying to persuade Hostor not to ride but I do not think she has been successful," Bethany told her before her eyes slid to Steffon's, the pair of them exchanging a knowing look. They had only been married a few months but he was rather fond of his wife already. At first he had just been pleased to find her beautiful and eager to please him in the bedchamber. On speaking more and more with her though he found her rather funny and pleasant company. His irritation at a match being found for him with a stranger had long since vanished, Bethany was rather more than adequate.

He realised he had been looking at her for too long then and he averted his eyes, seeing the light blush on her cheeks as he did so. Steffon cleared his throat slightly and set about prising his little brother's hands from around his neck. "Are any others arriving today?" he asked.

"The King and the court," his step-father answered him, "in fact…that may well be them now…"

They were all filing out and lining up to greet them when Aegon rode in at the head of the party, Sansa at his side and their children riding in just behind them. When he pulled up and dismounted he moved to help his wife down from her own mount before helping Alerie and Rhaesana from theirs. Aelyx and Jahaerys dismounted at the same time and fell into step behind Aegon and Sansa as they walked towards those waiting to greet them. Even after all the years of being King, Aegon still found it intensely uncomfortable when so many lords and ladies bowed down before him. He was gesturing them up at once before moving to greet Jon first.

"I can't believe the transformation, it's wonderful," he said after they had embraced one another. "Truly incredible," Sansa echoed his sentiments before she stepped forward, Jon taking her hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. She moved down the line after that to greet her parents and he followed down after her as the children seemed to have forgotten about propriety and begun to reacquaint themselves with friends and family. "You look well Sansa," Lady Stark was smiling at his wife and she beamed back, embracing her mother carefully. "As do you, you are better now, aren't you?" Sansa asked in concern.

"Of course, your father saw to that, I was not allowed to leave our chambers for near a month," Lady Stark said with a roll of her eyes and Aegon smiled at the sight. It had been a worrying time for Sansa when word had come that her mother was sick. She had been on the verge of leaving for Winterfell when Robb had sent word that the worst had passed and that she was expected to fully recover. "I am overjoyed at seeing you so well my lady," Aegon told his good-mother honestly then and she reached up and patted his cheek in an affectionate manner that only a mother could possess; "thank you, your Grace."

"My look at you, you've grown!" Lord Stark's chuckling pulled their attention then and Aegon and Sansa shared a smile as Rhaesana went barrelling into her grandfather. "I missed you!" Rhaesana exclaimed when she pulled back, moving next to embrace her grandmother before turning her attention back to Lord Stark; "I have been learning all about the North and all about Winterfell with my Septa!"

"Indeed," Lord Stark said warmly, "perhaps when we are all settled down in the keep you can tell me all about it?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed, "And you can help me with the things I don't know."

"I will certainly try, but doubtless a clever little thing like you would know more than I," he smiled.

"Perhaps we ought to go back inside, give everyone a chance to relax before dinner?" Margaery suggested.

"That would be most welcome, thank you," Sansa smiled.

"Yes, thank you," Aegon echoed, glancing back over his shoulder to look for his remaining children; "Sansa, do you have any idea where Alerie has gone?"

"She was there a moment ago I'm certain of it," she said; "perhaps she has already gone inside?"

"Yes," Aegon nodded, offering her his arm, "most likely."

This was reckless and dangerous and he knew it but he hadn't been able to help himself. He had barely had a moment with her on the journey, and when he had seen her stood slightly apart as everyone else had been exchanging greetings he hadn't been able to resist pulling her away. Hopefully his own parents had not been suspicious, he had not seen them for over a year and almost as soon as he had arrived he was making excuses to get away from them. He could catch up to them later, all he could think of now was how good she felt under his touch and how amazing it felt to taste her again, to feel the murmur of pleasure pass between her mouth and his.

Gods he was a fool, a bigger fool than his father had ever been but he had never been able to resist her, not from the first moment he had been summoned to her father's presence. He had been in the Capitol a year when he had been summoned to him, word of his quick wits and head for numbers had drawn his attention. When he had gone to him he hadn't known what to expect but it had not been his own merchant's fleet, not at his age. He had gone to the Capitol to earn his fortune because he had none to inherit, he had never expected to make so much. In all honesty it was almost too much, but he knew he would throw it all into the Blackwater for a chance to win her hand.

He knew it were next to impossible. She was a Princess in all but name and he was the mere son of a former lord who had long since renounced his birth right. Sometimes he almost resented his father for that but then he would remind himself why and guilt would bubble up in him. In his father's shoes he had no doubt that he would have made the very same decision. He still sometimes dreamed that he had not renounced his title though, so that he would at least have a chance, however small, of being with the woman he dreamed of night and day. Deep down he knew he had no chance, but his own parent's marriage had him almost believing that anything were possible if you were prepared to fight for it. If you loved it enough.

He would fight for her given the chance, and Gods, he already knew he loved her.

"Darion Greyjoy!" his mother's voice pulled him away from the kiss just as he had pulled her closer to his body and allowed his hands to roam down towards her firm bottom. They broke apart at once and he snapped his head around to meet his mother's astonished gaze. "With me, now," she practically snarled and he cringed, regretfully letting Alerie go, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide as she looked between them. He tried to think of something to say but she had stepped away from the wall and almost fled down the hallway and out of sight before he could even muster up the words.

"What in the name of the Gods are you thinking?!" Adele demanded.

"Adele…calm down," Theon said soothingly from his chair by the fire.

"Calm?!" she repeated incredulously, "Did you not hear me?! Do you not realise what your son has done?!"

"I haven't done anything…it was just a kiss I -," Darion started.

"Don't give me that," Adele snarled, "and besides, even if it were just a kiss she is the King's daughter! Does that register in your mind? He has given you an opportunity thousands of young men in your positon would kill for and you repay that by dishonouring his daughter!"

"I never dishonoured her," Darion said defiantly, shaking his head.

"Gods Darion," she groaned, "what are you thinking, what in the name of the Gods have you done?"

"Adele sit down," Theon finally intervened, getting up from his own place and steering her towards a chair of her own; "get your mother some wine."

"Theon will you please talk some sense into him?" Adele asked him desperately and he sighed.

"What did we always promise?" he asked her in return, keeping his voice low so their son wouldn't hear them.

"About what?" she frowned.

"About the children," he said with a raised brow and realisation crossed her features; "We always promised they could choose their own path, since we have not one of our own to guide them down."

"But Theon, she is the King's daughter," Adele said in an agonised tone, "I want our children to marry for love, of course I do, but not when that love could lead to their death."

"You really think the King would kill him for loving his daughter?" Theon raised his brows.

"Are you telling me you wouldn't in his position, if it were Asha or Shara?" Adele asked him and Theon scowled, she had him there.

"Something's bothering you," Sansa said knowingly as she braided Alerie's hair for her before bed. Her step-daughter wanted her hair in waves for the tourney and this was the best way for them to create the style. Alerie sighed slightly, meeting Sansa's eye in the mirror and Sansa could almost see the conflict in her eyes. She was clearly apprehensive about telling her anything, no doubt worrying that she would go straight to Aegon with whatever it was. That only led Sansa to believe that it was something she would rather her father didn't know. "Whatever it is Alerie, it will stay between us, I promise you that," Sansa said, holding her gaze in the mirror.

"There's a man," Alerie said slowly and Sansa raised a brow. "I see," she commented as Alerie averted her eyes and began playing with her fingernails. "I haven't compromised my honour but I have allowed him to take certain…liberties," Alerie told her, still avoiding her gaze and Sansa paused in what she was doing for a moment to carefully consider her next words. "How long has this been going on?" she finally asked.

"Near two years," Alerie told her and Sansa's brows practically shot up into her hairline. How in the name of the Gods had Alerie managed to sneak around for so long? Varys was obviously losing his touch, perhaps she ought to warn Aegon about that at least. "I love him, and I believe he loves me," Alerie continued and Sansa finished the braid she had been working on and tied it securely before she opened her mouth again. "I can only assume the reason that you have said nothing of this is because your father will disapprove?" Sansa raised a brow.

"He is of noble blood, but his family own no lands nor castles," Alerie told her, "he has made his fortune at the Capitol and I have no doubt he could provide for me. I don't know why father would not consider him, especially considering my status…"

"Your father regards you as a Princess, you know that," Sansa told her, "you know the only reason he has never given you the Targaryen name is to prevent any would be traitors seeking to use you for their own ends."

"I know that," Alerie said, "and I understand that. But if I were to be married then I would have a name anyway and father wouldn't have to worry about anyone using me. I would never betray him or you, nor any of our family, you know that…"

"Of course I do, and so does your father," Sansa said, "but believe me, that would not stop some people trying. Given this family's history it is only to be expected that he would be a little paranoid about such things. It is not you he doesn't trust Alerie, you know that don't you? Your father loves you, we all do."

"I know," Alerie nodded, meeting Sansa's eyes in the mirror again and they shared a smile. "He would want you to be happy, with a suitable match…who is he? The man?" Sansa asked her, hoping that her step-daughter would confess it to her so she would be able to speak with Aegon about it should he be suitable, or persuade Alerie against it if he were not. "Do you promise you won't tell father?" Alerie asked her almost desperately.

"I promise I will not say anything to him unless I think I can persuade him in your favour," Sansa swore to her and Alerie looked placated. "Darion Greyjoy," she said in a tiny voice and Sansa raised her brows. Truthfully she was not surprised, Darion was often at the keep and he was handsome indeed. She had lost count of the number of times she had caught him and Alerie laughing together or talking lowly in quiet corners. It all made so much sense now and a tiny smile twitched at her lips. Aegon was very impressed with Darion, and had been more than pleased with his progression in his trade. Darion made him a lot of coin, and Alerie would live a comfortable life indeed as his wife. He may have no title, but neither did she officially. Aegon could always bestow lands on them later should he see fit. She smile slightly at Alerie in the mirror, almost certain she could make Aegon see that this was a good idea.

"You leave this with me," Sansa said, taking up Alerie's hair again, "and we will see if you are not betrothed by the end of the tourney."

"I can't believe you of all people are going to be a father," Steffon commented to Edric as they sat drinking up in one of the parlours with Darion and Aelyx. "What do you mean, me of all people?" Edric asked him with a frown and the others all chuckled at him. "I was surprised enough to hear he got married, let alone knew where to put it on the wedding night," Darion winked.

"Oh shut it Greyjoy," Edric punched him in the arm as the laughter increased, "just because I never stuck it in any whore desperate enough to have me."

"Or anyone else for that matter," Steffon grinned and Edric glared at him. "Seriously though, congratulations," he added after a moment and Edric's expression softened a little. "No sign of a babe of your own?" Aelyx asked Steffon with a raised brow and he winked at him. "We're trying…trying very hard," he said suggestively to even more laughter. "When will your own wedding be?" Edric enquired of the Prince who shrugged his shoulders.

"No idea, I think she will come from Highgarden in a few months," Aelyx told them and they nodded, all taking a moment to lose themselves in their cups for a long minute. "Any sign of some dim-witted girl being foolish enough to marry you Greyjoy?" Steffon asked Darion.

"Perhaps," Darion said mysteriously, piquing everyone's interest. "Seriously?" Edric asked him, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. "I'm not that fucking unpleasant," Darion said defensively and Steffon snorted. "Seriously, who?" Aelyx asked him.

"I couldn't possibly say," he said and the other three exchanged sceptical glances. "She's special though," Darion continued, "she's very fucking special."

"You're hiding something from me," Aegon said amusedly as Sansa readied herself for bed.

"How can you possibly know that?" she asked him.

"You're my wife," he said simply, "I know. And besides, you didn't deny it."

"And now I suppose you expect me to tell you?" she turned expectantly to him.

"If you need to," he said and she sighed heavily before approaching the bed where he was reclining.

"You know you have always been impressed with Darion Greyjoy?" she asked him.

"Yes," he said, frowning slightly and propping himself up against the pillows.

"Well…it seems you are not the only one," she said and his frown deepened.

"What are you trying to say?" he asked, "I'm too tired for you to be cryptic."

"Alerie, she's in love with him," Sansa said and he sat bolt-upright; "nothing has happened…" she soothed him at once, "but she is certain he returns her feelings."

"Nothing?" he said sceptically, his eyes darting between her and the door.

"Well…perhaps not nothing…but she swore her honour is intact," she told him and he relaxed slightly.

"What do you think?" he asked her after a long moment.

"I think it would make her happy, and I think you have nothing to fear from the match," she said.

"He has been unwaveringly loyal," Aegon said almost grudgingly.

"Alerie is a woman grown, it's past time she was wed," she said and he nodded.

"I know, you're right," he sighed heavily, "I will speak with both of them tomorrow."

Ned walked around the tourney ground after breaking his fast, leaving Catelyn with Dany and Catrin to get ready. Sansa would no doubt arrive with her own daughter soon enough and there were only so many exclamations about fine silks and hairstyles that he could take. This was much preferable, breathing in the fresh morning air and watching the squires and the servants bustling around and making last minute preparations. He saw Bran and Rickon near the paddock and smiled slightly, seeing them both surveying the tourney ground, swords already on their hips and mail in place. Bran was the superior jouster but Rickon was very quick on his feet, making him rather formidable when it came to hand-to-hand.

Even though he knew his sons were skilled he still felt as though his heart stopped in his chest the moment before lances clashed or swords were drawn. At least Robb had packed it up now, although Ned suspected Dany had more to do with that than anything. Bran had never shown any inclination to marry but Rickon had finally wed the previous year after meeting Marissa Mormont at the tourney at Riverrun. Arya had been much the same as Bran, and Ned watched her now as she crossed the grounds clad in her usual tunic and breeches. She had never taken part in tourneys but only because no man would step up and face her. That was until Harrion Karstark had stepped up at the first tourney of spring and challenged her. The price of his victory was her hand and she had given it with good grace in the end.

They had a son now, Rickard was three and his parents already had him with a sword in hand. Likely he would be the heir to Bran's tourney success eventually, although Bran showed no sign of stopping any time soon. "What do you think of the place?" Ned turned to see Jon appraising him and he smiled.

"Likely it won't be a tourney to forget, how are you settling?" Ned asked him.

"Well enough, Margaery will likely have changed everything by the turn of the year," Jon huffed.

"Best watch your coffers," Ned teased him and Jon rolled his eyes.

"You think you're joking," he said, "a good thing our lands are fruitful is all I can say."

"Aye, you've done well for yourself Jon," Ned nodded his head, surveying the scene again; "you all have."

"You look rather traumatised," Dany commented to Aegon as she came across him in the gardens.

"I didn't think anyone else would be out here," he replied.

"Catrin wanted some roses for her hair, Margaery said she didn't mind," Dany told him.

"I'll give you a hand," Aegon said, falling into step with her as they walked towards the bushes.

"Nothing serious has happened has it?" she asked him.

"I think I might have just promised my daughter in marriage," Aegon said, almost looking confused.

"Think?" she repeated, trying not to smile.

"Well…I gave Darion Greyjoy permission to ask for her hand at the tourney," he said, his brow furrowing as though he could not quite remember doing such a thing.

"Darion Greyjoy?" Dany repeated with wide eyes.

"Apparently he and Alerie have fallen in love right under my nose," he said with a sigh.

"I don't think any father wants to admit his daughter has fancies for a man, you should talk to Robb," she told him and he raised his own brows in response.

"Should I?" he asked.

"Oh yes, he spends half his life chasing Ralf Greyjoy away from Catrin," Dany told him wryly.

"Damn Greyjoys," he muttered under his breath.

"Darion was raised by good parents," Dany soothed him.

"I know," Aegon agreed, "and I know he has the means to provide for her, and he is no lordly upstart who would even think to use her in rebellion."

"She would never let herself be used in rebellion, Alerie is not the sort of girl to do anything she does not want to," Dany reminded him.

"I know," he said again, his expression slightly wistful, "she gets that from her mother."

"Have you heard anything recently?" she asked tentatively.

"Not for many years," Aegon said, "she's married herself now, with two boys…and her nephew. She writes to Alerie…that's as far as it's ever gone."

"Do you think they will ever meet?" she persisted and he sighed, shrugging his shoulders.

"Perhaps, perhaps not…Sansa is the only true mother Alerie knows and Val always knew it would happen that way. Alerie used to be curious, but she has never made mention of wanting to meet her," he told her.

"Perhaps one day," Dany said quietly.

"Perhaps," Aegon agreed, smiling slightly regretfully before he moved closer to the rose bushes; "now we'd best pick some of these, we don't want Catrin kept waiting."

Bran pushed down his helm, his horse pawing at the ground restlessly as he received his lance from the squire with a distracted thanks. He adjusted his grip and pulled on the reins, his horse obeying his wordless command. His eyes flickered up to the Royal box and he saw Sansa stand and walk to the edge, her favour in her hands. As tradition the queen would signal the start of the final bout and Bran kept one eye on her and one eye on his opponent. Hostor Tully had ridden well, his cousin was younger than him and likely fitter but Bran had all the experience and he was determined to use it now. Almost in slow motion Sansa dropped her favour and Bran dug his heels in hard.

The horses thundered towards one another, the crowds cheering but Bran barely heard them as he shifted his grip on his lance. Hostor was mere feet away now. Just another few seconds and they would meet. He steeled himself, aiming carefully, not wanted to cause any unwanted damage to his opponent. The lance struck true, Hostor's own missing Bran by a whisper and causing him to shift slightly in his saddle. He was slightly unbalanced but he kept himself upright, looking back to see Hostor pushing himself up off the ground. Bran allowed a sigh of relief on seeing him getting gingerly back up to his feet, before he raised his hand up to acknowledge the cheering crowd. A squire came to relieve him of his lance and he pulled his helm from his head once his hands were free, grinning up at where his family were sat.

This was to be his last joust, not that he had told anyone else that, and he was glad that it had occurred here at Summerhall in the newly created tourney grounds. He caught Jon's eye and inclined his head, a wide smile on both of their faces. Likely this would not be the last tourney Jon threw but from now on Bran would be a mere spectator. He dismounted his horse, passing his helm to the squire and pulling off his gauntlets as he walked towards Hostor. His cousin grinned at him at his approach, his hand already held out to grasp Bran's. Their hands met and they pulled one another into an embrace for a moment before turning to acknowledge the crowd again. "It'll not be long before you win," Bran told Hostor, "you're good, for a moment I thought you had me."

"So did I," Hostor said wryly, "perhaps next time." Bran's lips turned upwards at that and he clapped his cousin on the back. "Perhaps next time," Bran agreed.

Jaime had cursed all the way back to their chambers and Jeyne had had to try very hard not to burst into laughter, her lips set as she trailed behind him. "Damn Starks," he cursed again and she frowned at him. "I told you that you were a fool for placing your coin elsewhere," she told him pointedly and he narrowed his eyes at her. "I had to wager on Tommen, what kind of uncle would bet against him?" Jaime asked her and she sighed heavily. "You didn't have to place quite so much, and you know you could have placed more than one wager," she soothed him and he muttered darkly under his breath.

"Come now, paint on your best smile husband, there is a feast to attend tonight," she said brightly, crossing to the dresser and pulling out her new gown. She could feel Jaime's eyes on her as she moved about the place and she could only hope that he was calming himself down. He crossed to her after a moment and began easing her laces free and she smiled slightly, leaning back against him as he continued unthreading her bodice. "If it makes you feel any better, I believe Myrcella placed rather a lot of coin on Bran," Jeyne told him and he merely huffed in response.

His lips came to her neck as he eased her bodice down and she sighed happily in response. Before he could continue though there was a great crash from the room just beyond their and he was cursing again, moving away from her. "Don't be too angry with them," Jeyne cautioned him as she slipped her dress the rest of the way off and pulled on her other one as she heard Jaime opening the door. "It depends what they've broken and whether I have to pay to replace it," he said darkly before striding out. Jeyne tied her laces quickly and arranged her skirts before she made to follow on after him. "Vayon! Johanna!" he was shouting as she pulled open the door.

"Oh," she said, seeing the remains of a rather beautiful vase littering the floorboards. "They're hiding," Jaime told her and she fought a smile on seeing his exasperated look. "I'm sure Jon will understand," Jeyne soothed him, "after all he does have four children of his own."

"If you two don't get out here now then you will not be coming to the feast!" Jaime called out then and slowly Jeyne saw the door of the large dresser in the corner open up. "Now," he growled at them and they came one at a time, their golden heads bowed in what Jeyne imagined they thought was a meek action. In her eyes it only served to make them look even more guilty and she could even see Jaime trying to fight a smile now. As stern as he appeared with them the twins more often than not got let off for their bad behaviour. Their big brown eyes blinked up in unison in the next moment and Jeyne could see her husband was going to crumble. "Clean this up and then get ready for the feast," he said sternly, "and I don't want to hear a peep out of you for the rest of the day."

"You've outdone yourself as ever," Jon murmured to Margaery, "how much is this costing me?"

"Can you not just enjoy the evening husband, this tourney was your idea remember?" she replied.

"Of course I remember, I just can't quite remember why you didn't talk me out of it," he said and she laughed slightly before leaning in a pressing a light kiss to his lips. "Have you seen our daughter?" she asked him quietly when she pulled back and he turned his head at once to see Marcia being led out to dance by Daven Martell. He wasn't quite sure how he was feeling about his daughter's betrothal now that she had met the man she was to marry. Before it had all seemed like such a long time ago and yet now it was only around the corner. "She's grown up," Jon sighed after a moment, "when did that happen?"

"I have no idea," Margaery said wryly, "it could be worse…I was half expecting Steffon to announce that he and Bethany are expecting. At least we don't have to consider being grandparents just yet."

"Does it make you feel old my love?" he teased her and she nudged him in the ribs in response.

"I must say you're handling it better than Robb," she commented.

"What do you mean?" Jon asked, scanning the nearby table for him.

"He's sat more stiffly than the statues in the garden, Catrin appears to be dancing with Ralf," Margaery told him and Jon snorted.

"He's fighting a losing battle," he said, "the one thing Robb is incapable of is saying no to his little girl."

"Indeed," Margaery agreed, "although you are hardly any better."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I hope you're looking forward to getting the bill from the jewellers," she raised a brow, "the girls look beautiful, don't you think?"

"Always," Jon replied and she smiled widely at him.

"You spoil them, you always have," she said and he couldn't disagree with her as he roved his eyes around the room to check where they all were, not seeing anything to trouble him.

Robb felt Dany lay her hand against his forearm but his body still seemed incapable of relaxing. "It's just a dance," his wife said in an exasperated tone but still he didn't move his eyes from Catrin. "He has wandering hands," he said by way of explanation and Dany snorted in amusement. "He's Theon's son, what do you expect?" she asked him and he couldn't help but twitch his lips up in response. "I expect him to remember that my daughter is a highborn lady," he said.

"He would never, he wouldn't dare, Adele would string him up for a start," Dany soothed him and he was faintly placated. Still he kept an eye on them though, as it seemed as though Ralf was not the only man in the great hall who had eyes for Catrin. "That dress is rather southern," he said after another moment and he could almost feel Dany rolling her eyes. "You never complained when I wore it," she said and a smile stretched across his face. "I thought I recognised it," he said, finally turning away from his daughter and appraising his beaming wife; "from your eighteenth name day," he breathed and she nodded, leaning in closer to him.

"That was all so long ago," she smiled, "and she has had her eye on that dress since she found it five years ago. I promised when she was old enough for it to fit her that she could wear it, and I think she looks beautiful in it."

"She does," Robb agreed with a heavy sigh, "that's the problem."

Aegon was not looking forward to this but one encouraging nod from Sansa gave him the strength he needed to get to his feet and call the attention to the hall. His eyes flickered to Alerie as everyone quietened down, his eyes searching his daughter's features for any hint of doubt. There was none. She was beaming from ear to ear and Darion next to her looked as though he could barely believe his luck. Aegon took a breath before he brought a smile to his own face and opened his mouth to address the hall.

"Honoured guests," he began, "I have a few words, and an announcement. Firstly, I would like to thank my brother, the Lord of Summerhall, and his lady wife for organising such a wonderful tourney here for us. We have been truly blessed to have been entertained and kept in such comfort and company," there was applause at that and Aegon raised his glass to Jon and Margaery, seeing them return the gesture. "And now, it is my great pleasure to announce the betrothal of my daughter, the Lady Alerie," he gestured to where she was sat and motioned for her to stand; "to Ser Darion Greyjoy."

Darion stood then as well and the hall erupted into applause again, a few people whispering in surprise to one another. Aegon had knighted Darion in haste at the beginning of the tourney, bestowing lands on him near the Capitol as well as quarters within the Red Keep and a warning to never harm a hair on his daughter's head. The young man had agreed gladly and Aegon now felt slightly better about the whole thing, even more so when he saw how happy he had made Alerie with his decision. They would marry on their return to the Capitol and he knew that plans were already in full swing thanks to Sansa.

"And finally," Aegon tore his eyes away from the newly betrothed couple, raising his glass high again; "to a secure Westeros, and a long summer!"

"A long summer!" the cry was echoed throughout the hall, glasses clinking together and the sounds of happy feasting resuming as Aegon sat himself back down with a sigh of contentment, Sansa's hand slipping into his as he settled down. "Well done," she murmured and he squeezed her hand in response.

"I'm too old for this," Ned commented as he and Catelyn wandered down the hallways to their chambers. "Nonsense," his wife returned as he came to a halt and pushed open their door. "I'll be a great grandfather soon enough," he reminded her and she laughed lightly as they made their way inside. "As I will be a great grandmother," she added as he sat heavily down in the armchair by the unlit fire. "Come here," he said, patting his lap and she raised her brow. "Are you not too old?" she teased him and he rolled his eyes. "Come here," he repeated and she did as she was told, settling herself down carefully in his lap.

"I'll be glad to go home," he breathed as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "As will I," she agreed with him and his hold on her tightened. "I sometimes wonder what might have happened, had I not told you the truth about Jon," he mused and Catelyn turned her head to better appraise him. "We would not be here now, I am certain of that," she said and he nodded, pressing a kiss against her shoulder. "I wish Lyanna could see it, she would be so proud of him," he said quietly and she pressed a kiss of her own to his forehead. "And she would be proud of you," she told him, "you made Jon the man he is, you may not be his father by blood…but you were in all the ways that matter."

"And you were the mother he needed," he said in response and she smiled slightly. "We didn't do too badly did we?" she asked him in an amused tone and he chuckled lightly, pulling back so he could meet her eyes which were as bright and as beautiful as they had always been. "No," he agreed with a smile; "we didn't do too badly at all."

A/N: The End.

Wow. Thank you all again, it's been a long journey, thanks for sticking with me!

As for future projects, no doubt you will see me pop up again. I still have Butterfly Effect and For His Honour ongoing, but I have other plans up my sleeve so keep an eye out if you so wish!

Goodbye for now you lovely people!

:)