Author's Note: This is a multi-chaptered sequel to my SanSan oneshot, "Up in the Woods". I wanted to properly resolve the story line, as well as respond to reviewers who wanted more of the story. Once again, capitlization is played with in this story in homage to Arundhati Roy's "The God of Small Things", and GRR Martin owns all the content of this story. Please read "Up in the Woods" first, so that you know what is going on in the plot. This story takes place seven months after the ending of my one-shot.

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Sansa

Sansa thought it was merciful of the Gods to blur that night in her head. She barely remembered anything, other than Jon's tears and Stranger's hot breath, and the branches grabbing at her hair and clothes, the earthy smell of the forest. She couldn't say the same for the last seven months, which mocked her with the joy they brought others.

Daenerys wed Jon in a small ceremony, with less than one hundred present. The people of Westeros loved her for that, and even more when she said all were exempt from taxes for the year. Sansa gave her credit for understanding how to contrast herself against the opulence of the Lannisters. Sansa watched as Daenerys' belly stretched bigger and bigger, feeling even lonelier than usual. She may no longer be Hollow, but she still stayed in her own head. She didn't understand it- the people she ought to reach out to, held no appeal to her. Except when the nightmares came.

She would hear screams in her sleep, and would scream out, waking the whole keep. She would wake up sweating, panting as Jon shook her awake, and Grey Wind nudging her with his muzzle, worriedly. Sansa could never explain the Fear of the dreams, she only knew it was there. The screams were horrid, tortured and rasping, and so shrill. She couldn't cover her ears, nor could she run away- no Walls or Hollow to save her then.

Jon would stay with her until she was able to fall asleep again, although he almost always ended up snoring beside her, across the huge mattress, Grey Wind and Ghost between them. If Daenerys minded, she never hinted at it, which made Sansa feel even worse. Like she was a Burden.

Today was no exception, as she woke to an eyeful of white fur, and Ghost's hot breath in her face. She heard Grey Wind whine in his sleep, and Jon snoring loudly. The sun hadn't yet risen into the sky, but she rose anyway, her woolen slip scratching her skin. Sansa crept out of her room, onto her balcony, and sat down, looking at the sky. The cold wind was abrasive, but comforting. At least she could still feel something, even after everything she had been through.

Grey Wind padded outside, to curl up next to her. She was happy to share the Warmth, and ran her hand through the shaggy grey tufts of fur. She relaxed her back against the stone of the Wall, and sighed, closing her eyes.

Jon

He had risen in Sansa's room, after a particularly rough night. She had been screaming as if her skin was on fire, twisting around on her bed as if she was being tortured. He had struggled to wake her, and only Daenerys had remained calm, as Ghost started howling, and Grey Wind, or Robb, pawed and licked her frantically. Daenerys cupped her cheek gently, cooing like a mother to her child, and Sansa awoke.

Jon cried in frustration, as Daenerys squeezed his shoulder in support. She didn't mind him staying in Sansa's room, because frankly she was getting bigger and found it more comfortable sleeping alone, as well as being insightful enough to understand that Jon needed to feel like he was protecting Sansa, despite knowing he couldn't reach into her head and save Sansa from herself.

Jon entered his bed chamber, and lay beside his wife. Daenerys was already awake and waiting in bed. She gently ran a thumb over his brow, as he mulled over the past seven months.

"Why is she so sad?" asked Jon, finally breaking the silence.

"She just came back from seeing the horrors of Westeros. She was married several times, battered by a Prince and forced to change her identity. She watched her father's head come off, and saw a city starve. She needs to talk, but can't." Daenerys sighed, knowing that Jon didn't want to hear that answer again. Daenerys kissed his forehead, trying to make him feel better.

"What would Robb do?" asked Jon, and Daenerys snorted.

"The same thing you are doing." Daenerys cupped his cheek, running a thumb over his cheek bone. Jon twitched his mouth, but otherwise, said nothing.

"On a not entirely unrelated subject, what are we going to do about Karhold and Dreadfort?" she waited as Jon groaned again, and then continued, "We could raise new, loyal lords there. I think I know the perfect candidates, too."

Jon placed his large hand over her enlarged stomach, which held their baby. He bit his lip pensively, and looked up at her.

"Who should replace the Karstarks and Boltons?" he inquired, sitting up across from her.

"I think it should be Gendry, the Usurper's bastard, and Sandor Clegane. They won't act against us, if solely for the sake of Arya and Sansa, and when the time is ripe, offer them Arya and Sansa's hands." Daenerys smiled at him, as Jon snorted.

"It is clear you have thought about this for a long time, but I don't think either of them desire to be lords. Nor do I know if they can be lords. It's a huge responsibility, to ask of a black smith and a mercenary."

"Well, if a bastard, formerly of the Night's Watch can take a Queen for a wife.."

"But that is different!" Jon interrupted, even though he had realized long ago that she was telling him, not asking him, to make Gendry and Sandor Lords of Dreadfort and Karstark.

"Ask them anyway," she whispered teasingly, smiling as Jon pursed his lips in agreement to her terms. Jon resigned himself to his fate, and got dressed, to face the rest of the day.

Sandor

He couldn't believe it, but he was almost happy to be back in the frozen hell of the North. He saw Winterfell up ahead, growing closer as his party travelled further up the Kings Road. Jaime Lannister whistled under his breath, as Brienne Tarth shot Tyrion an annoyed look. The dwarf had spent the entire trip pointing out every bloody landmark he could, irking everyone, all day, every day. Sandor would be glad to rid himself of the deformed cretin, but Jaime had helped him find Gregor, so Sandor supposed it was the least he could do, to tolerate the Imp.

Sandor was nervous to return to Winterfell, and see how Stupid Little Bird and Skinny Wolf Brat were, even though he wouldn't admit it to anyone. He wondered if Sansa was happy, and if Arya had come up with some creative plan to kill him in his sleep. He even wondered if Jon's baby had been born. Of course, most of Sandor's good mood was owed to the fact that he had killed his brother, the Monster that Rides. His companions took note of his change in attitude, though none of them commented.

Up ahead, he heard the portcullis rise as Winterfell waited for their return. They were almost upon the rebuilt fortress, and Sandor could make out who was ahead waiting for them. Jon Snow, King now, Daenerys, Daenerys' Dothraki and Unsullied, and three members of the Night's Watch, whom he had met before- Grenn, Pyp and Samwell. Sandor even cracked a smile as he spotted Gendry, who he actually really liked, and Hot Pie, the idiot baker, who despite his non-existent intellect, was too much of a buggering oaf to dislike.

Sandor saw Rickon, Robert and Eddard running around the courtyard, squealing as the direwolves loped around them lazily. Sandor snorted, deciding that the world must be ending for him to be thinking such pleasant things about the people around him. Although, he was a tad sore that Sansa wasn't waiting to greet him. However, he could understand if she never wanted to see his face again, since he had left her screaming in a forest.

Sandor turned his head to the King and Queen before him, and bowed his head.

"Hello, Sandor, and welcome back to Winterfell." Jon looked up at him, a faint smile playing across the young man's lips.