My version of Game of Thrones season 8

Episode 8: The Last of the Starks Part 2

SANSA

Sansa tossed and turned in her bed as she struggled to find sleep, or allow sleep to find her. She decided to give up on sleep and find someone who was also awake to converse with until she found her tiredness. She quickly threw on some warmer clothes and departed from her chambers.

She was struggling to find anyone, the halls were mostly empty, spare the Unsullied guards who would make for poor conversation anyways. She continued searching until she came upon a balcony where she found her brother situated, overlooking the city.

She came up and took a seat beside him. Jon silently poured her a drink of ale as Sansa attempted to drink it. Once it entered her throat she grimaced, alcohol never really took to her.

"Couldn't sleep?" Jon asked.

"No, I suppose you couldn't either."

They both continued to sit there and something was clearly traipsing around through Jon's mind so Sansa decided to ask. "What's on your mind, brother?"

Jon sighed as if he knew she wouldn't appreciate what he was going to say and sure enough she didn't. "The final ship carrying the common folk leaves at first light. You will be on that ship."

Sansa's eyes widened at her brother and she quickly objected. "I will not helplessly wait on an island while my people stay behind and fight for me!"

"Sansa-" but she quickly interrupted him.

"Why should my men fight for me if I won't fight for them?"

Jon looked at her with his eyes widened and let out an exasperated sigh. "I hate it when you use my words against me."

"I'm using your words against you because they're true, I'm going to fight for my people and you can't stop me from doing so."

Jon rose from his seat and kneeled down in front of her, placing a hand on her knee. "We might not win."

"If we lose then I would rather be here when we do instead of waiting on an island for my inevitable death."

Jon clenched his jaw as he looked at her more desperately. "We might win, but we won't all survive through it."

"I already told you Jon that I will die before I allow the Night King to lay a hand on your child." Sansa's stubbornness to stay behind seemed to wash over Jon as he hesitantly gave up and rose to his feet.

He gave a chaste kiss to her forehead before walking away to leave. "Goodnight Sansa."

DAENERYS

Arya awoke her early every morning to train with the wooden swords. Over the past two months Daenerys had advanced in her training at a vast rate. While she still wouldn't defeat Arya in single combat she could last much longer than the average person. It was also difficult for Arya because she couldn't hit Daenerys, only tap with her sword.

The two women went back and forth, swords colliding. Daenerys would block two of Arya's attacks then dodge the third. Daenerys would give a flurry of attacks that Arya would expertly dodge. For the first time Daenerys had the advantage, had Arya on the defensive and just barely parrying her advances. Daenerys his Arya's sword away, giving her and opening. As she went to strike the door opened as Jon waltzed out into the courtyard.

Daenerys looked to Jon and raised her arms at him. Jon just chuckled and descended the stairs. He made his way over to Arya and held his hand out for her sword. "May I go a few rounds?"

Arya smiled as she handed Jon the sword and took off with Nymeria right behind her. Jon turned his attention to Daenerys and raised his sword as Daenerys raised hers.

"How are you feeling?" Jon asked as he advanced, throwing a strike. Daenerys quickly parried it and countered with her own. Jon ducked underneath it and wound up on the other side.

"What do you mean?" She struck once again and Jon parried once again.

"I know that what Tyrion said could be upsetting and I just wanted to make sure-"

Before Jon could finish he was interrupted by Daenerys. "I'd prefer not to talk about it."

"If there is anything you've shown me over the past few days it's that not talking about our issues is won't make things any better," Jon lunged forth. He smacked her sword away and plunged his wooden sword at her chest, stopping just short of it. "You're dead."

Daenerys smacked his sword away in frustration and backed away to prepare for another round. He examined her face and saw that she was worried. He continued fighting nonetheless but continued to pry. "What's wrong Dany?"

Daenerys simply shook her head and lunged forth to strike, which Jon quickly dodged. "I told you, I don't want to speak about it."

Jon wasn't taking the hint and continued to press on. "We need to talk about-"

"I'm afraid!" She screamed, throwing her sword to the ground.

Jon plopped his sword down at his side and strode over to her. "Afraid of what?" he asked, concerned.

"Afraid that he's right," she spoke with unshed tears.

Jon quickly pulled her into an embrace as he struggled to keep tears at bay. "He's not right, I'll kill the Night King I promise."

She looked up at him and shook her head. "And what if you don't? What if he wins?"

Jon pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers. "Don't even think like that. He won't."

While Jon was distracted he suddenly felt the pressure of something under his chin. He opened his eyes to see Daenerys smirking at him as he looked down to see her wooden sword placed under his chin. "You're dead." she breathed.

Their faces began drawing closer before something wet and cold fell on Daenerys' nose. She pulled away and looked up at the sky. Slowly more began to appear and fall upon the two. Daenerys held out her hand and the flakes melted upon impact. She turned to look at Jon and saw he was smiling up at the sky as his the snow stuck to his raven black hair.

A wide smile drew across her face as she grabbed him by the arms and spun him around in circles. He then halted and drew her closer as they swayed back and forth while the snow continued to fall around them. Suddenly nothing mattered then, not the throne, not the Night King, not Westeros. She would live everyday like it was her last, because it very well may be.