Game of Thrones Tales: The Ultimate Game:Book I-Back to the Throne Room

Game of Thrones Tales-Back to The Throne Room...Part XXVIII

Game of Thrones Tales: Back to the Throne Room...

Summary: There's only one solution when Tyrion and Sansa have found the new King as mad as the Mad Targaryen and cynically evil, once on the throne, as Joffrey. So evil he's happily allowed the world to be invaded by unspeakably hideous creatures from some little planet out on the spiral rim of the Galaxy, to secure his reign of terror.

Part XXVIII...

Jon and Arya, strolling the small village surrounding the ruined old northern fortress...

Jon politely acknowledging some eager looks of recognition...Though a careful glance to one older man, a former soldier who'd raised a tankard to him, falling to his knees, words of homage on his lips. Arya, with no little amusement watching but quickly agreeing to their moving to outlying streets.

Celebrity can be a what do the Dirters say? A rearender? A...Bummer, yes...She thought.

"I've missed you, Ary. I know you've been on a lot of travels but the occasional raven or note would have been nice...I mean you knew my address, more or less." Jon smiled as they walked in relative peace. "Though I understand that you've been occupied."

"Well I did visit Sansa that one time...And not so preoccupied that I didn't know you were King of the North..." grin.

"Never a title I cared for..." he eyed her. "I was glad to relinquish it and go back where I belong."

"Where a king's son belongs...?" Arya, carefully eyeing.

"If you mean as Ned Stark's son, thank you..." Jon, firmly. "Regardless, yes...It's where I belong."

"Never to marry, never to raise a son or daughter?"

"And you...Are you ever...?" he hesitated, desperately trying to avoid any reference to the Faceless or his own former Kingship...

Or anything else, though he knowing that she must know...

Sansa, if not her own superiors must have told her...Though Gods bless her, she seemed not to be apprehensive towards him.

"I said there was someone...Nice. A boy...A man now...I met in my travels and found again, when I came back this time." Arya smiled wanly. "A very good man..." she noted firmly.

"Not a noble?" shrewd look.

"In everything that matters, yes."

"Well..." he shrugged. "If it matters at all these days, you've the blessing of the temporary head of House Stark. If he really is a good man...."

"He is. Thanks." She patted his hand. Eyeing it, then him.

"Did you think it would be cold or something?" he grinned. She giving cautious look...Do They know? She mouthed.

"The Wall doesn't leave us frozen." He hastily added. "Most of us, if anything, are warmer than most. The Dirter doctors say it's to due with our...Meta-something...adjusting in the cold."

Right...No, They don't know. She thought. Eyeing his anxious face, clearly fearing she might be afraid of him, smiling back at him. "I knew it'd be warm as ever, brother."

But, of course, as my Councilors thought, if the Dirters had known about his resurrection...He'd be in one of their examination rooms or in a jar, in parts.

That at least we do know intrigues them. The Walkers and the reports of resurrections.

...

"Master Pie! Help!" Pault, racing inside at the screams from Mistress Hanuk, from inside the farmhouse, her frightened face visible for an instant through the panes of the large rear window. He arriving in the kitchen to find a cowering Hanuk, backed against a wall in apparent dread, facing a man in Terran clothing, including a heavy, heated, thrown open winter coat and Terran boots.