While she waited, Sansa thought back over the unlikely events that led her to be Queen of Westeros. She thought of waiting in the Vale, surrounded by men loyal to her, while plotting to overthrow Littlefinger. She thought of Jon Snow coming to her rescue, with the Dragon Queen, the Hound, Jamie Lannister, and a woman-knight, Brienne of Tarth at his side.

She thought of Daenerys Targaryen sadly, now. Such a good woman who would have made an amazing queen. She remembered how Dany flew to the Wall when she returned to Westeros, on the back of her big black beast. She was searching for her brother's bastard. Jon Snow, Targaryen now, had barely believed his aunt when she told him the truth and how she learned it. But there was no denying Jon's parentage any longer. He truly was the child of ice and fire. Sansa remembered how terrified Jon was when Dany named him her one true heir, and then how she had insisted he marry Sansa, his once- half-sister, to unify the South and the North. Not that she needed the unity. She won that when she, Jon, and their dragons destroyed the Others. Once news of that spread, great lords and smallfolk alike revolted against Lannister and Baratheon claims, making way for the one rightful Queen of the Realm.

But the Iron Throne was not won without cost. The Dragon Queen had been wounded in the battle against the Others, and this wound was exploited in the short but bloody battle for King's Landing. Robert Strong, Cersei's reanimated monster, had gotten lucky, and was able to spear Daenerys on Drogon's back, throwing the spear from yards away.

The Hound was there, and saw it happen. He took down his former brother, killing him slowly. They say that the Hound was a terrible sight to behold. That he was smiling and laughing the entire time.

Jon had tried to save Dany's life. He didn't want to rule. But he had no choice.

Sansa and Jon did not have a loveless marriage. Sansa filled Jon with the love she had denied him when they were children. They understood each other and needed each other. They were well loved as King and Queen. But neither could ever have passion for the other, the way a man and woman should. They could not forget their childhood. They could not forget being raised together. They could not forget the parent they once believed they shared, the parent they did share, but not in name. Ned Stark may not have been Jon Targaryen's father by blood, but he was in truth. Sansa's as well.

So when they coupled, it was sweet and brief and dutiful. Sansa wanted to give Jon children and the family he was denied by being a bastard. Sansa wanted to give the Realm heirs who were good. And she did. Jon fathered two children with Sansa, a son and a daughter. Their son was the very best of both of them. He had Jon's look but Sansa's blue eyes. He had Jon's temperament and Sansa's kindness. He was smart and solemn and loving. Their daughter was wilder, more like Arya had been, but she looked just like Sansa, except for her grey eyes. Their children loved each other and their parents. They were happy.

When Jon was killed it was like the world ended. He had gone out to help settle a dispute near Casterly Rock, where Jamie Lannister and Brienne of Tarth were fighting with a group loyal to the late Tywin Lannister. The Hound was with him, as well as Ghost. Jon had left the dragons behind. Sansa wishes now that he hadn't. Many witnesses saw what happened. How some nameless soldier had disarmed the King. How the Kingsguard and Ghost were fighting others at the time. Jon was always too honorable and too stubborn. He would never sit and watch while commanding others to fight on his behalf. He should have never been fighting in the first place.

The Hound brought the news back to King's Landing, along with her husband's body and his direwolf. Ghost was hers now, and their son's. He had kneeled before her while he told her, put a big hand on her should while she cried. "I'm sorry, your Grace. The King was a good and honorable man," he had said.

That was a year ago, now. And Sansa sat in her bedroom waiting.

The Hound was there throughout it all. A member of Jon's court, Sansa's personal shield. He watched as his Little Bird flourished with her solemn half-wolf, half-dragon king. Watched her give him children. Watched her be happy and loved. He was not angry or sad. He just watched, glad that she could have a life that was free of pain, at least for a time. Then the King was killed, and the Hound had brought the pain back. He hated that he had to be the one, but it was what was right. He watched her rule as Queen Regent while her son, a remarkable boy of eight, was groomed to take control. The boy would be a good king, one he could be proud to serve, just like his father, and just like his mother. Now, she had called him to her, late in the night.

He knocked on her door after greeting her guard. Normally, that was his place, standing outside the door watching. He was always there, in the background. There when Sansa bedded her once-brother. There when she gave him a son and then a daughter. There throughout it all. He watched her, always, and took very few nights for himself. He was surprised when she sent for him.

"Sandor. Thank you for coming. Please come in." She was dressed in a silk robe. She backed away from the door to let him in. He did and closed the door behind him.

"What do you need of me, your Grace?" he rasped, trying not to notice her body beneath her robe.

"You used to call me Little Bird. Have I ever told you how much I liked that?"

"No, your Grace, you hadn't."

"I did."

Sandor had no response to that so he just grunted and waited.

"Jon has been dead for a year now. I miss him. I swear, Ned is smarter and wiser than I am, it won't be long before he is ready to rule without my help."

"Aye, your Grace. The King is wise beyond his years, and good. Like his parents."

Sansa studied him silently for a minute, then moved closer.

"You've been there for me, always, Sandor. You were with Jon and Dany when they rescued me in the Vale. With them as they won Westeros and saved it from the Others. Outside my door while I gave birth to two children. And before. In King's Landing when Joffrey and Cersei ruled. You've always been there. Yet you've never asked for a prize or a reward. Why?"

"Never wanted anything."

"Then why did you do any of it? Why not just try to live peacefully? You were safe and free. Jon told me how you sought him out. Why did you do it?" Sansa had moved even closer to him throughout her interrogation. She was almost touching him now, and whispering her words.

He was finished pretending. He sighed heavily.

"For you, Little Bird. I did it for you."

"Oh, Sandor. I was hoping you would say that." She took his hand, then, and led him to her bed.