Swaths of Gold and Red

Winterfell 

Jon bid his wife farewell among many other women and children who can't possibly fight against the Night King and his army, it was a decision not just to protect his growing family but to save as many Northerners as possible.

"There's no word from the Wall in the last two weeks, I fear for the men we left behind there." He said and his sister walked up, a vengeful feeling in her eyes.

"We can't give up, Jon, I'm sure Tormund and Edd will survive and get back South to us." Two-Thousand Wildlings manned the Wall, another three near the new Gift filled with children, women, and old people.

He fears that he's let them die, an aching in his mind wanted to march out and meet the Night King to end this war quickly before turning their attention back to Loren Lannister.

It wasn't an agreement debated too long between himself and Daenerys, the new battles will be purely for justice, justice for his House and hers. The screech of dragons was heard and he and his sister watched Daenerys, flying off with her 'children' to scout the woods and road North.

He hopes she will be safe, the Long Night isn't far from their doorstep with how long they took getting back to Winterfell.

House Lannister murdered both of their fathers, slain their siblings, and killed their niece and nephews if Robb's wife were to have given birth to a son or daughter. They tore the Seven Kingdoms apart and put many through torture and suffering, he knew a truce was needed but he would change his blade on them once this alliance is concluded.

Then there is Sansa, Arya swore to save her no matter the cost, and he would be at her side when the army storms the Red Keep.

Walking back to the keep he spotted Damon, seeing the chance he walked over the Lannister commander and would share advice with one another.

"Lord Damon." he greeted, the Knight bowed in response.

"Your grace, how may I be of pleasure?" He asked and he gestured for the man to follow towards the battlements that outlooked to the camp.

The trenches were coming close to completion, further walls were being built with barricades and pitch being placed inside the trench itself. Grey Worm was running through drills with the men, dragonglass spears being thrust in a stabbing position.

Damon Lannister had even gotten close to his men, unlike Mace Tyrell. Jon could see clearly that they were well disciplined in their training.

"I wanted to ask you something, it's been a number of weeks since we've arrived in Winterfell and I feel some rapport was made, my Lord." He said and Damon rubbed the back of his neck, looking away and turning back to face him.

"I suppose we have, King Jon. To survive against the dead, good cooperation is needed." Indeed it is, so that begs to question as to his personal impressions of Damon Lannister. "Now, what do you want from me?" He was asked by the blond Knight.

"Why does an honorable man like yourself follow such a cruel monster? It can't be because of kinship, he murdered his own siblings and father." Damon didn't bother defending his cousin, didn't make any argument on Loren's behalf, nothing.

Sighing, Damon spoke plainly. "Loren is an ambitious man, he's done things that anyone would see as comparable to Maegor the Cruel. But I am a Knight first and a Lannister second, I take my oaths as seriously as I do this plight we face." He pondered Damon's honor, it reminded him of when he saw what Crastor was doing to his sons and how disgusted he felt to see Jeor knew as well but was fine with the kinslaying.

Yet he still followed his commander, it was his duty and honor.

Damon is sure to see this as he did, and he will decide whether to put his name to a cruel and mad Hand or be his own man.

"What if you joined us? Together, we can bring balance and peace back to the Seven Kingdoms?" He tried again to convince him to join the right side, he would rather fight Loren alongside allies than face those that aided them in defeating the Night King.

Damon shook his head, looking out to a pair of Lannister outriders that bore a Lannister flag. "And what peace can there be with two Kingdoms in Westeros? Do you honestly think Daenerys will simply let you rule the North, or be your own King for that matter?" He did ponder that very possibility, on the Dragon Queen one day coming for the North and his oath of fealty.

He's spoken to Daenerys many times as they marched North, she seems like a noble and benevolent ruler. He doubts Tyrion- A man whom he considered a smart and noble man would serve someone that even resembled that father of hers. The father who killed my uncle and grandfather. He shook his head, disagreeing with Damon on his questions.

Instead of arguing the point further, he bid the commander farewell before leaving him to his devices.

King's Landing 

Sansa hummed a lullaby her mother used to sing as a child, stroking her hand on her belly.

Her pregnancy is in the middle, two more months and she will be giving birth to Loren's next child where Margaery will be following a few months after her.

The unconsenting mistress formulated her plans carefully, she would poison her child to his or her father and hopefully will find a way to get themselves far from the capitol- Maybe to the North and rise to avenge her family.

She would have her child cast aside the Lannister name for Stark, be the King of the North to end the lion once and for all.

"My Lady, I have a message from the front." Mira Forrester said to her, Sansa looked around to make sure she wasn't being watched or the guards were preoccupied with something else.

The daughter of Lord Gregor was a servant on Margaery's service, but over the last several weeks she's become someone whom she can rely on. Sansa ushered for her countrymen to come closer, inform her of the way the war has been going on.

"Lord Loren met his brother's forces, Lord Tyrion appears to be his better match and a stalemate has occurred near the Mander." A guard turned and they acted as if they were knitting, once the man looked away Mira continued. "The Dragon Queen and your half-brother and Lord Damon and Tyrell have begun preparing for the fight against the threat." The dead, she means. Sansa pondered her half-brother, again, and with bitterness.

She's resigned herself to her own fate, hoping to poison her child to its father while doing so but she will always resent Jon for not even demanding that she be freed from Loren's imprisonment.

In some dark manner, she hopes that Jon too will fall along with the Scarred Lion.

Putting down her knitting tool, she wiped away some tears before they ruined her cheeks and so her 'protectors' wouldn't see them. I shouldn't think like that, it's cruel. She reprimanded her wish to see her brother dead, perhaps her last sibling from the six of them.

She'd like to think Bran is still alive, and Arya, not so much Rickon but she hoped her littlest sibling went quietly.

"I miss home." She heard Mira say, she nodded with a smile then set her hand on her fellow Northerner.

"We'll get back there, Mira. I swear it." She promised and the two of them continued to bask in the moments of peace and silence.

The Reach

This morning was a quiet one, in both the Targaryen and Lannister camps the feeling and dread were shared by every soldier, every horse and even the crows and vultures were uneasy as they flapped inconsistently in the sky.

As the sun overcame the clouds, Tyrion and Loren had ordered for the men to get into formation as both hosts left their bases of Bitterbridge and Tumbleton. They began marching to the beating of the drums, stomping over grass and mud, both following down the Mander to meet each other.

At Highgarden, Varys waited on word from the front and in the North, this great intensity could be cut with a valyrion dagger.

Loren's tenacity for victory all but proved his mistake of not having the man murdered, he hesitated on doing so because he had no wish for Cersei to claim power over the Realm, the former Master of Whispers scoffed and thought that would have suited his intentions far better than struggling for power with Loren Lannister.

But Tyrion is up to the task, he has the intellect and bested his brother more than once since the truce was ended. "You are the only offense against your brother, you need to match him with the ferocity of your father." He had told the Hand of the Queen before he departed for war.

His chamber door opened, the guard let in a boy carrying his meal for the morning. He noticed the child was dirtier than the others, older too- Possibly fourteen, he sighed and held his hand stretched out and palms ready to receive something.

"Do you have something from the Queen or from the Capital?" He was then surprised when the spy instead took out a similar dagger he had seen before, trying to react and defend himself his fingers were cut off.

Running to the door, he opened it and found his guard dead, then another boy stabbed him in the front whilst the other stabbed him in the back. He grunted and in pain, yelled out for help.

Life began to fade, Varys vision soon blackened and he died not long after.

Back at the Mander, Tyrion looked and watch pair of riders guiding Loren ride to the middle. He looked at Lord Uller before he and one soldier did the same and the six stopped and for a long time didn't say a word.

"... Why?" Tyrion was puzzled, his younger brother's question was not being in the character he propagated before the summit and before his departure from Westeros after Oberyn's death. "I won't deny that I killed Cersei and Jaime, that I murdered father and framed you for it, I even slew uncle Kevan and his oldest son." Yes, he did all of that but why bring it up.

"But you, you stayed with me even after Jaime left, even after Cersei started to hate me, even when our father began grooming me and turning me into this cold-blooded monster before you. You were there, it's why I let you go, it's why I wished you would have made a different life." His face softened to his little brother's mournful expression.

Loren sighed heavily, removing his eyepatch and revealing the blackened socket for him to see. "I beseech you, big brother. Surrender, surrender and we both can finally unite the Realm." It was a genuine request from Loren, one Tyrion from before could agree to... But not the one he has become since his exile.

"You know I won't, then again, I was never one to give in... Even with you." Loren heard his response, "When I've defeated you, I will strike your name from history. Your daughter will be my daughter and the world won't ever have heard the name 'Loren Lannister, the Scarred Lion'." Loren's sad expression didn't change, he simply put back on his eyepatch and stared him in the eye.

"Then may the Gods favor the best son of Tywin, big brother." With that, Loren and his men turned around and rejoined his host, Tyrion and Harmen did the same but the Lord of Hellholt sent him a scalding stare.

"I hope your softness doesn't cost us the battle, Imp." He turned sharply and spoke with venom.

"And I would tell you to play your role in this battle, Harmen, or the Queen will hear of your insubordination." The general grumbled and went to his post while the Greyjoy siblings went to theirs.

Uncertain and near evenly matched, both brothers knew on this clear day that a victor will be chosen and in that, will decide the fate of the war.