The Last Sentence

[Fire and Blood25]

Jon, Daenerys, Tyrion, Sansa, Bran and Arya all leave they're keys in the hall of an empty Winterfell. They all cry, they all hug each others.

Daenerys: Do you guys have to go the new castle right now, or do you have some time?

Sansa: We got some time.

Daenerys: Ok. Should we get some moon tea?

Tyrion: Sure...Where?

And, laughing and crying, they all leave the empty castle for the last time.

Or:

The last trace of steam evaporated in the autumn air. The horse rounded a corner. Tyrion's hand was still raised in farewell.

"He'll be alright," murmured Sansa.

As Tyrion looked at her, he lowered his hand absentmindedly and touched the scar on his nose.

"I know he will."

The scar had not pained Tyrion for nineteen years. All was well.

[SeanF]

As Lord Wyman popped the last of the Freys into his mouth, he thought "Damn. He's undercooked."

[SeanF]

With apologies to Joe Abercromie:-

"Ramsay stared at him for a moment, then he shrieked with wild laughter. “Amusement? You’ll never have your teeth back! You’ll never have your leg back! You’ll never have your life back!”

“Of course not, but I can take yours.” Theon turned, stiffly, slowly, painfully, and he gave a toothless grin. “Mistress Poole, would you be so good as to show our prisoner the instruments?”

Jeyne frowned down at Theon. She frowned down at Ramsay.. She stood there for a long moment, motionless.

Then she stepped forward, and lifted the lid of the case.

[BannermanOfDorne]

And all was going well for Hodor too, as the maesters gave him an honorary place amongst them for developing an entire language with a single word.

[SeanF]

"But it was all right. Everything was going to be all right. Daenerys Targaryen had won the victory over herself. She loved Cersei Lannister."

[Cersei of the Kingsguard]

"....as the last human drawn his final breath , white walkers knew they were free."

[SeanF]

A more serious one, I just cooked up. It could happen?

"MAKE WAY!!!" shouted Ser Godry the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, the one whom men called Giantslayer. "MAKE WAY FOR THE KING!"

King Stannis marched up the steps of the Great Sept of Baelor where the Queen and the four coffins stood. The look upon his face was not one that was often seen on the face of His Grace: grief. Davos followed closely behind his King. The man he had lived the last six years for. King Stannis slowed his stride when he reached the top step and walked with trepidation towards the coffins. There were four of them. Three swathed in the grey and white colors of House Stark, and one in a deep, fiery red. As Stannis slowed in front of Sansa Stark's coffin, Davos reached up to lay a hand upon his bag of lucky finger bones and was surprised when he felt the cold steel of his badge of office instead. Stannis laid a hand upon her coffin and the look upon his face was one that could make the hardest of men weep. But when his eyes settled upon the Queen, bound in chain to the floor of the Sept, all the grief and sadness fled him and his face hardened with a look of rage that could make even the hardest of men cower in fear. Davos turned around to survey the scene. It seemed as if every man, woman and child in Westeros had crowded in front of the Sept to see the execution of the queen. Davos turned back to her. She must have been beautiful once, Davos thought. Her pale skin and hair had been turned brown with dirt from the nights she had spent in the black cells but there was no mistaking those eyes. Valyrian eyes. Eyes that stared not at King Stannis but at Davos. Pleading. Please, you are the Hand of the King, stop it! But Davos had as much sympathy for the Queen as His Grace did, he turned his face to Stannis who had positioned himself beside the Queen. Ser Godry forced her to her knees. "Kneel before His Grace!" he shouted, Daenarys Targaryen gave a pitiful whelp of pain. "Ser Godry!" Davos shouted mildly. Godry gave a nod a took several steps back. The King spoke.

"Daenarys Targaryen, look about you." his voice was rough, harsh, even or King Stannis.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no... NO!!" Her shout hushed the crowd.

"The deaths of Sansa, Arya, and Rickon and Melisandre. The destruction of House Stark. All the lives lost in Oldtown, your doing, Queen Daenarys. Your doing."

"No, Your Grace, the dragons.... Drogon.." she pleaded

"Silence Targaryen. The dragons were yours. Thank the Gods they perished in the North. Or all of this may yet be naught but ash and cinders."

Daenarys fell silent, and as her gaze fell upon the coffins, something in those beautiful Valyrian eyes died.

"Have you nothing left to say?" asked King Stannis. She did not reply. "Ser Godry, Lightbringer." The White Knight strode forward and presented the scabbard to the King, who wrenched the sword free. It glowed with the light of the sun and radiated a dim heat. He placed the sword lightly on Daenarys' neck. "Have you no final words?" the King asked again. This time she spoke

"The sword..... so warm" she licked her cracked lips and gave Davos one more pitiful look "It feels like spring." She fell silent once more.

"Just so." King Stannis said. The blade fell.

That's well-written, but I think it would be very much out of character for Daenerys to plead. Whatever her faults, she has a huge amount of personal courage.

[I Am TheSongOf IceAndFire]

Jon reached out his hand, mussed her hair, and called her 'little sister' one last time before his last breathe..

And she thought ' I love Jon, LOVE him. but not as much as I love p*ssy.' the end

[Bane]

Bran opened his eyes.

[Lord Joker Of FunLand]

The End.

[Perogo]

The Lord of Harlow looked out from one his castle's high towers. The sky to the west was black as smoke, and smoldered red with the day's last sun.

He sighed a mournful sigh. Fools all of them.

As he turned to return to his books, his sleeve caught the intricate Myrish lens perched precariously on a stack of old parchments. He gasped as it hit the floor with a loud crack.

"No..." he said, in disbelief. "That's not fair. There was time now. There was all the time I needed... That's not fair!" And be fell to his knees, sobbing with bitter tears.

[King Aemon I]

Jon Snow reading the kingsguard book to his son Jaime Targaryen "Jaime, you are named after the most honorable man in the history of the Seven"

"Jaime, I somehow named you after the killer of my grandfather.."

"Why dad, are you an idiot?"

"Well..."

[Helgar]

Across the valley he saw the cobbled little house. A cloud of smoke rose swirling from the chimney. If he listened closely, he thought he could hear the crackling of flames in the hearth, and when he got closer, he saw the plump little woman waiting for him outside the house. His Marya. Her arms were folded across her chest, but from the distance he could see she was smiling.

The smuggler Davos Seaworth straightened his patched tunic and walked home.

[El Mehdi Baha]

Jon Snow sat on the Ice Throne. Everything's going to be alright. From the top of the wall, he could see the lands where he once defeated the Great Other. Never forget, he thought. Arya, the Lord Commander of his guard, turned to him and said : "You were a wonderful warrior back there. But good warriors don't make good kings. Cousin, I'm so sorry." Jon fell out of his throne. His poisoned ice crown seated next to his head.

She ripped out his face, and then went to the edge of the wall to help Aegon Blackfyre climb up the icy structure.

She gave him a passionate kiss. "You'll be the best king this realm will ever know".

And as his appearance was slowly changing to Jon's. They suddenly found themselves dreaming of the peaceful spring that is yet to come.

[Seelmann]

-Yes...- Arya moaned as Tyrion spent himself between her thighs. He looked her deep in her grey, mysterious eyes, knowing for sure that they would be a sight to behold until the last of his days.

[Brandon Martell]

-Yes...- Arya moaned as Tyrion spent himself between her thighs. He looked her deep in her grey, mysterious eyes, knowing for sure that they would be a sight to behold until the last of his days.

Well that's disturbing.

[Oakkin]

"King Bronn, I like the sound of that."

[Brandon Martell]

Ghost ran up in the snowy ground of Winterfell to play with Shaggydog and Summer. "Come here Shaggydog" said Rickon, who approached the wolves, followed by Bran and Jeyne. Jeyne was carrying a babe in her arms. My nephew, Jon thought. The babe was King Eddard Stark, but until he comes of age Lord Jon Stark rules.

"Hey Jon, look!" Rickon pointed to the sky. Jon looked up and saw a white raven. Winter has come and gone.

[Rhaegar Targaryen's Ghost]

"Looking back, Aegon realized that tricking his idiot Aunt out of her dragons and then killing her was the easiest thing he had ever done. It was poetic really, Aegon VI retaking Westeros the same way the conqueror had..."

[Fat Mac]

The ship made its way across the stormy waters of the Narrow Sea. The Mocking Bird lied below deck, on a small hammock that swayed with the boat. For once, he was not well dressed. His hair had grown passed his ears, and his beard was long and uncontrolled, grayer than ever. Defeated, he listened to the sound of the storms and the waves, waiting. Braavos, the land of his ancestors, remained just a day ahead.

Sansa he thought, dear Sansa. You were so dear to me, as was your mother. But don't fret, I'm not done yet. And you and your accursed family will rue the day you crossed Petyr Baelish.

The thought calmed him, and for once, he was stumped. He finally managed a smirk.

"Maybe I'm not a mockingbird after all" he said, with a faint laugh, "maybe I am a Stone Titan. And no matter if you're a wolf, lion, dragon, stag, trout or kraken, the Titan can crush them all."

And he intended to do so, for Petyr Baelish's days were not done.

DUN DUN DUNNNNNN