27 | BYE, DRAGONSTONE

After the battle, Sofina approached the remaining Lannister army. They were covered in filth, blood and cinders. It was truly a war they'd never forget.
"I know what Cersei has told you, that I've come to destroy your cities, burn down your homes, murder you and orphan your children. That's Cersei Lannister, not me. I'm not here to murder. And all I want to destroy is the wheel that is rolled over rich and poor to the benefit of no one but the Cersei Lannisters of the world. I offer you a choice. Bend the knee and join me. Together we will leave the world a better place than we found it, or refuse and die." Sofina told fiercely. Drogon stood strongly right behind her, Viserion and Rheagal had already flown back to Dragonstone. They served their purpose.

A few soldiers kneeled, obligingly. Drogon roared, angrily, and then most of the soldiers kneeled. "Step forward, My Lord." Sofina pointed to one of the older soldiers.

"You will not kneel?" She asked after he approached.

"I already have a queen." He told.

"My sister, she wasn't your queen until recently though, was she, until she murdered your rightful queen and destroyed House Tyrell for all time. So it appears your allegiances are somewhat flexible." Tyrion, who recently joined the scene— as it was his job to be with the queen— spoke up.

"There are no easy choices in war. Say what you will about your sister, she was born in Westeros, has lived here all her life. You on the other hand, you murdered your own father and chose to support a foreign invader. One with no ties to this land, an army of savages at her back." The old man spoke with pride.

"You will not trade your honor for your life. I respect that." Sofina snapped for one of the Dothraki to take the man.

"Perhaps he could take the black, Your Grace. Whatever else he is, he is a true soldier. He would be invaluable at the Wall." Tyrion suggested.

"You cannot send me to the Wall. You are not my queen." The old man shouted. Sofina smirked, the Dothraki proceeded to take the man.

Another, younger soldier, stepped forward. "You will have to kill me too." He told.

"Step back and shut your mouth." The old man hissed at what seemed to be his son.

"Who are you?" Sofina asked, wanting to remember his family's name.

"A stupid boy." The old man spat.

"I'm Dickon Tarley, son of Randyll Tarley." He introduced.

"You are the future of your house. This war has already wiped one great house from the world. Don't let it happen again. Bend the knee." Tyrion snapped at the boy.

"I will not." Dickon huffed.

"Your Grace, nothing strips bold notions from a man's head like a few weeks in a dark cell." Tyrion suggested to Sofina.

"I meant what I said. I'm not here to put men in chains. If that becomes an option many will take it. I gave them a choice. They made it." Sofina shrugged and waved for the Dothraki to take the boy too.

"Your Grace, if you begin beheading entire families --" Tyrion began.

"I'm not beheading anyone." Sofina hissed at her Hand. Tyrion turned and saw Drogon prep himself to burn the men.

"Your Grace --" Tyrion argued.

"Lord Randyll Tarley, Dickon Tarley, I, Sofina of House Challinder, First of my name, Mother of Dragons, sentence you to die." Sofina announcer loudly, for everyone to be intimidated.

Sofina paused. Then finally spoke. "Dracarys." The men were burned like witches at the stake. The remaining disobeying soldiers then kneeled out of fear, which is what Sofina came to realize the only way to gain support from the enemy— like Cersei did with her own people.

* * *

Sofina, Varys, Tyrion, Davos, Jon and Reyanna all sat around the painted table where they usually held their meetings. Jon had just received a raven from Winterfell. His brother and sister were alive. "I thought Arya was dead. I thought Bran was dead." Jon spoke emotionless.

"I'm happy for you. You don't look happy." Sofina spoke.

"Bran saw the Night King and his army marching towards Eastwatch. If they make it past the wall --" Jon fretted.

"The Wall has kept them out for thousands of years. Presumably --" Varys interrupted Jon.

"I need to go home. We need to go home." He turned to speak directly to Reyanna.

"You said you don't have enough men." Sofina mentioned.

"We'll fight with the men we have. Unless you'll join us." Jon looked up at Sofina.

"And give the country to Cersei? As soon as I march away she marches in." Sofina scoffed.

"Perhaps not. Cersei thinks the Army of the Dead is nothing but a story made up by wet nurses to frighten children. What if we prove her wrong?" Tyrion spoke.

"I don't think she'll come see the dead at my invitation." Jon sniffer.

"So bring the dead to her." Tyrion told.

"I thought that was what we are trying to avoid." Reyanna chimed in.

"We don't have to bring the whole army. Only one soldier." Tyrion told.

"Is that possible?" Davos asked.

"Do you know how hard that would be? They aren't line creatures. They hunt and fight in hoards. Large hoards. Made up of thousands of them." Reyanna informed.

"The first White I ever saw was brought into Castle Black from beyond the Wall."  Jon mentioned.

"He was dead when they took him there. Like, dead dead. Not moving dead. He hadn't turned yet." Reyanna added.

"Bring one of these things down to King's Landing and show her the truth." Tyrion told.

"Anything you bring back will be useless unless Cersei grants us an audience and is somehow convinced not to murder us the moment we set foot in the capital." Varys sighed.

"The only person she listens to is Jaime. He may listen to me." Tyrion told.

"And how would you get into King's Landing?" Sofina asked Tyrion.

"I can smuggle you in, but if the Goldcloaks were to recognize you, I'm warning you, I'm not a fighter." Davos proposer. Tyrion nodded at him, gratefully.

"Well, it will all be for nothing if we don't have one of these dead men." Sofina commenter.

"Fair point. How do you propose to find one?" Varys turned to Jon.

"I'll go north and take one." Reyanna, irritably, volunteered. Either she or Jon could snatch one of the evil things. No one else could because they had never fought face to face with one.

"No you will not. The free folk will help us. They know the real north better than anyone." Jon spoke.

"I am not a helpless girl. I've fought more walkers than you. I've known and fought walkers before you. I am the best option Westeros has to retrieve a walker for Cersei." Reyanna pointed a finger angrily at Jon. Jon nodded, realizing he had overstepped.

"You won't go alone." Jon then said.

"You're King in the North." Davos whispered to Jon.

"And she's Queen of the North." Jon spat at Davos.

"I haven't given either of you permission to leave." Sofina spoke, not wanting either her sister nor Jon to risk their lives.

"With respect, Your Grace, I don't need your permission. I am a king. And I came here knowing that you could have your men behead me or your dragons burn me alive. I put my trust in you, a stranger, because I knew it was the best chance for my people, for all our people. Now I'm asking you to trust in a stranger because it's our best chance." Jon told Sofina. Sofina gulped and nodded sadly.

* * *

"Who's this?" Reyanna asked Jon about his new comrade down in the mines. He was a lean man with bright blue eyes.

"Gendry. I'm Robert Baratheon's bastard son." He stuck out his hand to greet the woman.

"Are you going to tell everyone that?" Jon chuckled.

"Only you and your wife." Gendry smiled back at him.

"When are we leaving for the North?" Reyanna asked Jon.

"As soon as they're done mining plenty of dragonglass for us to fend for ourselves." Jon answered Rey.

* * *

By daybreak, Jon and Reyanna took off by ship north of the Wall. They had stocked up on dragonglass and were accompanied by Gendry, a few men from the north and Davos. It only took them four days to reach Castle Black. Tormund decided to join them. Tormund sent a few more men, prisoners of Castle Black (including the Hound), to accompany Jon and Reyanna to go retrieve a white walker.

They all knew it was a risky trek, but without the white walker Cersei's army would never support them in the fight against the undead. And they would lose the war.