Ursa Major | Tormund Giantsbane

Chapter 20

Her dragonglass swords were ready.

Gendry had done a spectacular job, handing them to Thyrsa by that afternoon. He'd had another man make the mold then added the finishing touches himself, enabling them to fit perfectly in the holsters Maja and Munda had made for her.

"They look very pretty," said Sansa, having summoned Thyrsa to her chambers that evening. They were waiting for Jon, both eager to speak to him.

"And they will kill better than anything I've had before," said Thyrsa. "Save for the Valyrian steel, I suppose. I'd like one of those swords one day."

Sansa smiled. "Perhaps you will get one. I heard Lady Brienne's and Ser Jamie's were repurposed from one Valyrian sword that belonged to Lord Tywin Lannister. With a Valyrian queen around..." she refrained from rolling her eyes. "Well, you, your sisters, and Lady Lyanna seem to be the only ones who truly understand how I feel about that."

"Arya does, too," said Thyrsa. "I suppose this is why some people don't like Northerners. We are a stubborn lot. But I cannot shake the feeling that persists within me, Lady Sansa. Something does not feel right. I do not trust her."

"Nor do I," said Sansa, hearing movement outside. "I believe he's here."

Thyrsa opened the door, letting Jon in. "Have you seen Sam yet?" asked Jon, figuring he could try to keep things casual.

"No," said Thyrsa. "He's been busy all day. But I spoke to Gilly earlier. She doesn't wish to retreat to White Harbor or a bit further down. Esther has convinced Lord Manderly to open his doors for any women and children who wish to be elsewhere during the battle. If we don't win... they'll be close enough to the ships to sail somewhere safe. I don't want my nephews and nieces here when the battle comes. I may yet be able to convince Gilly to take care of them down there because my sisters both intend to fight."

He nodded slowly. "Tell your sister I appreciate the work she's done with Lord Manderly. Where are we gaining the support of the other houses?"

Sansa set down a scroll, upset. "Lord Glover wishes us good fortune, but he's staying in Deepwood Motte with his men."

Jon pursed his lips. "'House Glover will stand behind House Stark as we have for a thousand years,'" he quoted. "Isn't that what he said?"

"'I will stand behind Jon Snow,' he said," corrected Sansa. "'The King in the North.'"

"I told you both we needed allies."

"You didn't tell me you were going to abandon your crown," said Sansa.

"I never wanted a crown! All I wanted was to protect the North. I brought two armies home with me, two dragons."

"And a Targaryen queen," shot back Sansa.

He sighed. "Do you think we can defeat the Army of the Dead without her? I fought them Sansa, twice. Thyrsa, you were at Hardhome and you went beyond-the-Wall with us to retrieve that wight as proof. You two must stop worrying about who holds what title– that doesn't matter. Without her, we don't stand a chance."

"Maybe not," said Thyrsa. "But it shows how little she cares about us– the people she is trying to rule over– when she only helps provided everyone acknowledges her as a supreme ruler. She's no better than the Targaryens of eras past. She's no better than her father."

"Do you have any faith in me at all, Thyrsa? You were the first who acknowledged me as King. The first who saw in me what I hardly saw in myself."

"And I still see that, which is why I believe this wasn't the best choice. She may have been persuaded to help even without you bending the knee, considering she saw the Army of the Dead. But she didn't go all the way, did she? She still expected you to bow to her and you did. You couldn't lie to Cersei, I understand that. And I want to believe you made the right choice in that. But bowing to Daenerys... I still don't feel good about it, Jon, it feels as though..."