Unity in Determination

A/N: Hello everyone! To make up for lost time, I wanted to get the next chapter ready sooner, so here it is for your enjoyment. And while it doesn't establish a new record in length, it's still one of my longest at 17 pages long so I hope you enjoy the ride.

That said, I wanted to clarify something before you start. I know I said that this chapter was going to have Ramsay's first onscreen appearance but I ended up liking the way the second to last final scene turned out so much that I decided to make it the actual ending of the chapter. As a result, I will make the next one longer to account for that first scene as well, on top of everything else. Sorry if it's a bit of a disappointment for those that wanted to see him already but when you get to the end, hopefully, you'll see what I mean.

Now, with that out of the way, I hope you enjoy this one. Have fun!

__

Epigraph:

Unrestrained power has always been a problem for beings like us and despite his restrictions, there are simply too many ways for your so-called Promised One to reshape the wrong thing due to his limited perspective and ruin everything.

Honorable upbringing or not, his raw potential defies description and that should scare us all.

Sansa Stark stared ahead from the top of the outer walls of Ironrath, the cold northern wind buffeting her face. Besides her was Brienne of Tarth, standing guard in full battle armor while they looked at their combined army assembled the ground below. "The time is almost upon us," Sansa muttered.

"Yes," The tall warrioress said slowly while turning to her. "And I am confident we will win. Still, since you charged me with your safety I would be remiss if I didn't ask, my Lady, are you sure you want to get so close to danger?"

Sansa nodded without hesitation. "By this time tomorrow, Ramsay will be dead. One way or another, we will make sure of it. But before that happens, I need to look him in the eye and show him that I will no longer allow him to have power over me. And that soon, he will be the one to have reason to fear me," She added, her tone determined and smoldering, like a slow fire.

Brianne looked at her for a long moment and nodded before a small smile lit up, on her face. "Forgive me for what I am about to say as I do not mean any offense but...while I wouldn't have truly believed those words shortly after I found you during your escape from Winterfell, somehow I do now. You have grown, my Lady. I am sure your mother must be so proud of you."

Sansa smiled back at her before a sigh threatened to escape her lungs as a thought crossed her mind.

"I'd like to think so," She told herself. "Still, I don't think my mother would find joy in learning that a big part of my newfound confidence comes from the fact I have found love and safety in the arms of my bastard half-brother, whom she had reason to dislike."

Then she narrowed her eyes. And before she could talk herself out of it, she opened her thoughts like prayers.

"I don't know if you can hear me from the beyond," She acknowledged in her mind. "But if you can, then know that even if you still don't end up approving of our relationship after we bring you back, I am not going to apologize for my feelings for Jon. I love him and I will fully tie him to your Tully bloodline once I bear his children and if you have a problem with that, mother, then I will take a page from Robb's decision to marry out of love while clearly not listening to you."

Only silence met her mental proclamations but even if her message hadn't gotten across to her mother on the other side, Sansa felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders as she nodded almost imperceptibly. She was done feeling guilty for desiring her half-brother. And while she won't announce her betrothal to Jon until he was ready for that, it felt good to declare her commitment to him in case her parents were actually able to listen to her.

She was suddenly snapped out of her thoughts when she heard Lady Lyanna Mormont called out for her, her shouts resonating from the snow-covered ground.

"The enemies are finally at our gates," Brienne remarked as she stared at the horizon.

Sansa followed her gaze and stared at the familiar banner of the flayed man, its secret origins of shame and weakness still fresh on her mind.

"So it seems," She replied, her eyes lingering on the opposing vanguard for a moment. "Let's give them a fight to remember in the next life, shall we?"

And with that, she turned around and headed down the wall.

Back at New Castle, King Jon and Lady Wynafryd had just finished giving orders and organizing some arrangements. Since Arya was absolutely determined to join her godly brother in his fight against the Bolton forces no matter the argument, Jon eventually caved in and agreed to bring her with him to Ironrath, with the understanding that once they were actually on the battlefield, she will be following his orders and that that wasn't negotiable. His sister nodded in acceptance at that and headed out to catch up with the Hound, the promised bottle of wine she got from a servant of the keep in her hands.

After watching her depart alongside Bellegere, he had told Lady Wynafryd that he would like to provide access to Beric Dondarion to the ravens of the rookery that can reach keeps from the Riverlands, so that they can announce that the Brotherhood Without Banner has chosen to support him. Since he still lacked a royal seal of his own, however, the King of the North and the Trident requested if he could have her Maester add the White Harbor seal of House Manderly, given that the most powerful of his Riverlords knew he had traveled to the Northener city with astride his Ice Dragon.

The heiress apparent accepted his solicitation with a nod and that was when he informed her that in a few days time, Yara and Theon Greyjoy will be arriving with their fleet of 100 ships under a flag of truce now that he had come to a mutually beneficial alliance with them against their kinslaying uncle, Euron. The highest ranking authority of White Harbor that was currently present looked a bit more skeptical at that idea but after sharing enough details of his conversation with the Greyjoy siblings in Braavos, she agreed to do her best to keep the peace between her bannermen and the ironborn. Once that was sorted, he excused himself so that he could have a few important conversations he wanted to take care of before flying off to the Wolfswood.

And so, after a few minutes walking through the castle, he found Lady Olenna speaking with her granddaughter. They turned from their chairs when they heard him approaching.

"Your Grace," Lady Margaery said with a smile. "We were actually just talking about you and your spectacular means of gathering information for a trial."

"And of how clever you were to allow Lady Manderly to execute her father's killer herself," Olenna remarked, her tone one of respect as she raised an eyebrow. "Now that was an effective way to secure her loyalty."

The secret god shrugged. "Perhaps. All the same, it felt appropriate at the time."

"I didn't say I was in disagreement," The Matriarch of House Tyrell assured him. "Now, may I ask what brings you here, King Jon?"

"Well, it occurred to me that Lady Margery and myself hadn't had any time to get to know each other better by ourselves and I was wondering if I could speak with her before I have to leave on on my dragon," He explained.

Lady Olenna was clearly trying to contain her smile when he said that but a quick glance made him realize that Lady Margaery wasn't even trying. He suppressed a chuckle as Lady Olenna stood up.

"Of course, of course," The elderly player responded. "I suppose you don't need an old woman like me around to chaperone you two. So, I will just head to the nearby rookery and see if any letters from the Reach have arrived. I will be back later."

And just like that, she left the area, leaving an empty chair beside the Golden Rose of Highgarden. She placed a hand on the embroidered seat and urged him to approach. Smiling lightly, he accepted her invitation.

"So, what would you like to talk to me about?" Margaery asked.

"About a few things," Jon replied, his tone sheepish. "First of all, I wanted to thank you again for looking out for my sister back on King's Landing. After everything she had to endure there, you made her feel cared for and safer, all things considered. So, I am sure she will be happy to see you again."

"You're most welcome, your Grace. And, to be frank, knowing that now Sansa and I won't have to stand on opposite sides of the wars to come is a welcome relief. Thank goodness for that," She added with a sigh.

"Quite so," The King of the North and the Trident said in agreement. "Which, actually, leads me to my next question."

He paused, then looked her right in the eyes.

"Are you doing alright?"

The famed beauty of the Reach blinked rapidly at the query as if surprised. Then she tilted her head and looked at him with a curious yet also guarded expression.

"Why do you ask, my King?"

Jon interlocked his fingers, gathering his thoughts for a moment before continuing.

"I could be wrong," The King noted. "But something about our previous interactions has given me that impression that you have been trying to hide a deep, lingering pain; just not of the physical kind. And it's fine if you don't want to talk about it but...well, I know a thing or two about suppressing your emotional suffering from personal experience," He admitted. "After all, I have been told more than once that I have a tendency to brood. And well, I have learned the hard way that if you gulp it down long enough and it leaves scars that you can't see but just as wide as the ones I now carry on my chest," Jon added, his voice sounding distant even to him as regretful memories came to mind. "And since you are new to the North there are not that many people you know and trust here. So...I guess what I am saying is that I can be a good listener when it matters."

Margaery was quiet for a long moment after that but true to his word, Jon remained silent as well; his ears lying in wait in case she wanted to unburden herself. Before long she gave him a bittersweet smile. "That was...very frank of you, your Grace. And I thank you for the offer. Because you are right, I have been feeling rattled for some time now. But, are you sure you don't have anything better to do right now than to listen to my troubles?"

"Well, I want to give my Ice Dragon one last hour to sleep before we fly into battle," He replied. "So, my schedule is open for a bit. Just do me a favor and don't call me your Grace or any other fancy titles now that we are alone, will you? I am still not entirely comfortable with all these royal protocols, to be honest. And like I said I want to help, not add unnecessary pressure to your list of concerns."

Lady Margaery actually started giggling at that, her tone merry. When she was done, she seemed far more relaxed.

"You truly are a breath of fresh air compared to most of the company I have had to keep for several years," She remarked, before taking a deep breath. "Very well then."

And so, Margaery started opening up about the fears and concerns that she said have started plaguing her for months, but that came to a head after Cersei destroyed the Sept of Baelor and very nearly burning along with those that died that day.

He had winced inwardly at that part, remembering not for the first time that one of the reasons he had used one of his wishes to partially refill the Lannister mines was to give the battered and drained-by-that-point enemy regime enough extra resources to fight against the Faith Militant in a conventional manner, thereby keeping his sworn enemies busy in conflict with another faction with aims that would surely clash with those of his own domains in the future. But in wiping out the bulk of the Faith Militant's leadership and most of their King's Landing fighters in a single, spectacular blow, he had unwittingly given Cersei Lannister some breathing room to properly rebuild her forces with the extra gold she will soon find.

"I am going to have to accelerate my plans to convince the Iron Bank to engage in economic warfare with the Lannister regime," He decided in silence while Margaery paused for a moment, probably to gather her thoughts. "Hopefully, by the time I am able to deal with her, I will be able to put the regrown mines of Casterly Rock to better use."

The secret god remained in silence, paying attention as Margaery opened her mouth again. She spoke about her newfound crisis of faith that has been tormenting her. She talked about her feelings of shame and insecurity regarding the disastrous failures involving her past 3 marriages, referring to herself as cursed on that front. She sighed and explained how her initial reaction to the idea that her grandmother was planning to marry her off once more was one of exhaustion.

And then the Golden Rose paused before admitting in a hushed tone that for some reason she still can't explain, she felt safe around him in ways she hadn't experienced before.

"I am not usually one to put much stock into religious signs," She confessed. "But if I had to put it into words then, I would say that someway, somehow, you were an answer to my **** prayers."

She looked down, her cheeks starting to flush as she closed her eyes tightly. "Ah, hells below...you must think I am crazy now, no better than those militant zealots that Cersei destroyed."

"Margaery...look at me," Jon said, his tone soft and firm at the same time.

She inhaled deeply, then did just that. And at that moment, their gazes locked.

"You are not crazy," He declared, putting as much confidence as he could in his words. "You really think I didn't also started to pray when my treacherous, former brothers of the Night's Watch stabbed me in the chest? Before I lost consciousness, I laid in the snow, blood gushing out of me, feeling **** and hoping against hope for any form of assistance. But more than that...I felt dismayed," The former Lord Commander said, his voice breaking up a bit. "Shocked that it truly seemed at the time that things were actually going to end this way and terrified for my people because I had seen what was coming for us all from beyond the Wall."

Then he shook his head.

"So, no, I don't think you are crazy at all. If anything, the mere fact that a god DID answer my prayers only reinforces my point," Jon stressed. "I won't pretend to know exactly how you are feeling because at the end of the day, our life experiences are different. But there will always be moments where we feel **** and I am not going to fault you for trying to find comfort while in the middle of a crisis of faith."

After speaking his mind on that point, he hesitated for a moment but before he could talk himself out of it, he gently placed his hand on hers, right above her lap.

"Besides, so long as we are being honest, this is the most genuine I have seen of you ever since first met," Jon noted. "And while Sansa did tell me that you are a clever player of the game of thrones the nobility likes to engage in, I must admit that I like that in a woman even more," He confessed, his tone sheepish.

Margaery's smile reached her eyes at that point and, to his surprise, he actually saw her shed a few tears.

"That is very good to know," She whispered, her tone sweet and full of longing.

They held each other's hands for a long moment, taking comfort in each other's presence. But then, she looked around the sitting room they had found themselves in, searching with her gaze. When she turned her eyes back to him, she bit her bottom lip for a moment before her grip on his hand tightened slightly.

"Jon," She said slowly, "if it's not too much to ask...could I take a quick look at your scars?"

Jon blinked at that as he was hit by her request. Then it was his turn to look around, noting that they were indeed alone at the moment but they were technically in a public place of the keep so, that could change quickly and it didn't seem proper to show his naked chest to the Golden Rose of Highgarden under such circumstances.

Still...based on their past conversation, he thought he understood why she was asking and why it was important to her in her current state of mind. So, he looked back one last time before nodding.

"Very well," He said in acceptance. "But only a quick look."

And with that, he started to remove the furs around his torso as quickly as he could to avoid an awkward interruption.

Sansa Stark and Brienne of Tarth rejoined with Podrick Payne, her sworn sword's squire as they headed down the stairs and looked ahead, her eyes looking for Lady Lyanna.

Eventually, the redhead found her near the open entrance of the gates of Ironrath, along with most of the Lords and other leaders of their combined forces, assembled together and readying horses. The ruler of Bear Island nodded at her as she got closer.

"Ramsay Bolton and the treacherous Lords who follow him have ordered the halt of their army's advance," She informed her. "It's only a matter of time before their group travels to the spot between our forces under the flag of truce so that he can discuss the possibility of surrender since he knows he outnumbers us more than two to one, so he will think he has a big advantage for the time being."

"Then we should get ready to politely decline," Sansa responded. "And to then show him that he clearly underestimated us if he thinks those numbers will be enough."

"You have read my mind, Lady Stark," Lyanna replied with a fierce smirk. "But before we go, I believe Josera has something important to tell us all."

With that, she nodded at him everyone turned to the experienced skinchanger.

"I decided to warg into a hawk to scout much faster from the sky and discovered something interesting," He announced. "I can confirm Mira's warning that House Glover has indeed joined forces with the Boltons and they are coming to attack us from the western flank. I estimate about 500 soldiers coming from that direction. Most importantly though...I couldn't see any Ironborn forces coming along with them."

There was a pause as they registered that tactically relevant and unexpected piece of information.

"Are you certain, brother?" Asher Forrester asked.

"Completely," He assured them. "As soon as I realized that, I searched the woods for miles around and couldn't see any other battalion coming to support the bulk of Ramsay's army, much less one that held the banners of House Greyjoy. I don't know what Euron's intentions were by plotting to get Lord Glover to move against us but it seems like he wasn't interested in getting his own forces involved directly."

Sansa frowned at that. It was convenient that they wouldn't have to deal with Ironborn enemy reinforcements as well...but she didn't feel particularly relieved.

"What exactly is that dangerous pirate planning?" She wondered in silence.

Soon, Princess Val shrugged visibly. "Then it seems that this islander king will be a problem for another day. That means we should focus on the here and now."

The Lady of Winterfell in exile nodded slowly at that. "You are right, of course. We should finish preparing. Josera, is your sister ready?"

"Last we spoke, she was helping Spring set the stage for the ritual in the tunnels below," He explained. "But she will be ready to get the final ingredient from Ramsay Bolton when the time comes. I just need to accompany you to the parley to get a close look at what she will need for the Blood magic aspect of the ritual."

"Good," Lord Rodrik responded, his fist clenching. "Then let's finish getting ready. I want to look at Ramsay in the eye before the battle begins and inform him that I will make him pay for killing our younger brother Ethan, and right AFTER he bent the knee, no less," He said, his expression growing increasingly outraged at the thought. "All because he didn't like clever Lords because he found them "too much trouble". Oh, killing him after all of his numerous crimes would feel supremely satisfying."

"Agreed on that front but, no offense Lord Glover, if you want him dead then you will have to get in line," Sansa thought but didn't say.

Then she shook her head, realizing she needed to focus. So, she turned to Podrick and asked the squire to bring her the cloak and set of furs with the Stark sigil embroidered in them when she had weaved it herself. She had been saving until the last moment to make her attire more presentable before the formal meeting between the leaders of both armies. Ever reliable, he had kept them close by and handed them over, after which she straightened her hair and wrapped the cloak around herself. Before long, she felt content on that front which meant there was only one thing left to do.

She whistled and Lady recognized that as a sign to get closer to her from nearby. Once she was in front of her, Sansa caressed the head of her wonderful, four-legged companion, whose loyalty had transcended **** itself. The redhead smiled as she watched the earnest look in her eyes and touched her forehead gently with her own; closing her eyes in the process.

And she listened to the sound of Lady's breathing, Sansa felt ready to confront her demons, both within and without.

So, she opened her eyes and gestured at her to sit, after which, she climbed on the back of her mighty direwolf, as tall on 4 legs as a large horse, without hesitation.

"I am ready when you are, my friends," She declared, looking at the various allies she had grown closer to in the last couple of weeks. "For tonight, we fight as one. And at this time tomorrow, the North will be ours once again."

Silence meet her proclamation but it was backed by steel-hard stares, full of determination. Even the Giant Chieftess, Magash Char pounded at her chest in a sign she had come to associate with respect and admiration. With that, the last of their number that chose to head to the meeting on a horse climbed his way up.

And then they were off, with Sansa Stark of Winterfell at the front of the pack.

Margaery Tyrell couldn't help but gasp when Jon's exposed torso revealed itself to her eyes as he laid back on the chair. She had expected to see the scars but it wasn't until she saw their number and where exactly they were located that the enormity of what she was seeing truly sunk in.

"He...he got stabbed in the heart," She realized, her eyes wide. "Repeatedly. And on the lungs and guts too. I...I can't imagine the amount of pain and sheer terror that must have been put him through."

Almost without realizing it, she traced her fingertips above the upper gash, feeling his heartbeat pumping below the wound, despite how impossible it seems at first glance. He tensed a bit at the gesture but didn't move her hand away.

"Do they...still hurt?" She asked, her tone barely above a whisper.

"Sometimes," He admitted. "Like one of those phantom pains that people who lose their limbs are said to experience. It has been happening less and less lately but a few times, I felt as if my lungs were **** in blood again. The sensations never last long but they can be...disturbing."

Margaery exhaled a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. "How did you manage to find the strength to endure something like that...physical reminders that you were actually murdered through treachery?"

Jon was quiet for a moment, his face distant. Then he back up and held her gaze.

"By reminding myself that there is a lot to fight for," He responded, his tone steady. "And like my father once told me long ago, pain loses its power when other things become more important."

Before she knew it, she had started shaking, feeling those words resonate with her deep inside. She inhaled sharply, her fingertips still tracing lines above his heart. And as she got lost in his eyes, she realized she had never wanted to kiss someone so badly in her entire life.

Abruptly, she heard someone cough, and Margaery jolted in her chair as if recoiling. She turned back and saw her grandmother looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"I see you asked to see his scars," She said in an amused tone. "But maybe you should pick a more private location next time."

Margaery's cheeks flushed deep red as Jon hurried to put his clothing back on, a lifetime of training in etiquette yelling at her from the back of her mind. Rattled as she was though, she couldn't help but notice that her grandmother seemed delighted to find her in such an emotionally intimate position with the man her elder had been planning to get her to marry. She knew her well enough to recognize that from her expression and posture.

Only this time, she felt much more excited at the possibility than before, if she was honest with herself.

"My apologies for choosing the wrong place to answer her request, Lady Olenna," Jon said in a sheepish tone once he was done covering his chest. "It was just meant to be a quick look."

"Apology accepted, just be more careful in the future," The Matriarch of House Tyrell replied. "Squashing damaging scandals is time-consuming. Regardless, I have important news I got from the rookery."

Margaery frowned, only then noticing the letter in her grandmother's hand. "What is it?"

"In essence? King Tommen threw himself from the top of the Red Keep," Olenna announced. "And now, Cersei Lannister has crowned herself Queen, formally sitting on the Iron Throne.

Margaery gaped at the news, as she felt a sharp sense of dread take the air out of her lungs, the realization hitting her with full ****.

Suddenly, she started crying. She couldn't help it, decorum be damned.

"Wait, my sweet, what's wro..."

"WHAT'S WRONG?!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, startling her grandmother into silence. "HE KILLED HIMSELF BECAUSE HE THOUGHT I WAS DEAD TOO, THAT'S WHAT'S WRONG! HAVE A LITTLE DIGNITY FOR ONCE AND DON'T JUST SEE THIS AS AN ANOTHER OPPORTUNITY TO MARRY ME OFF!!!"

For once, Olenna Tyrell looked absolutely speechless. She opened her mouth once more, then clearly thought better of it and just sighed before turning around and leaving her be.

It was just as well. Margaery didn't want to give her the satisfaction of watching her fall to her knees after yelling her off, her face a mess with tears.

"This is my fault," She sobbed. "I really am cursed."

There was a moment of silence as her tears fell to the floor. But then she felt Jon put his arms around her, and his embrace felt warm to the touch.

"Even if that's true," He said softly, "you won't have to face it alone. Because Sansa and I will be right there alongside you, to help you break that curse. I give you my word as a sorcerer-king...and on my honor as a Stark."

The Golden Rose of Highgarden turned to face him, feeling touched beyond belief. Just like that, she knew that the dam around her heart had broken...which is why she didn't hesitate to kiss her king, pouring all her passion into her lips.

And when he kissed her back after a bit, she felt safer than ever.

A/N: Well, I hope this chapter was pleasing for my Jon/Margaery fans :D and for those that have been enjoying Sansa's growth across the story, for that matter.

In case you are wondering, Jon will start his flight to Ironrath shortly, so yes, he is catching up with his army soon. More on that then. But until that point, please leave a review down below. It would be much appreciated, I assure you.

Until next time!