ASOIAF
Summer Children
Disclaimer: I Own Nothing.
Summary: Years after it was all over, Sansa looked at these Summer Children and wondered how long their innocence would last and hoped it would be a long time.
Sansa Stark, Queen in the North, the Vale, and the Riverlands, Protector of the Realm, She Who Would Not Kneel, The Bird Who Became a Wolf and Broke Free From Her Cage, and the Slayer of the Giant lie on a bed pelts beneath a shady tree on the top of a hill and looked out over the glade and watched five children play. Even in summer, the air of cool here in the North and snow blanketed the ground and trees and Winterfell. The children were bundled up in furs.
The eldest, Balon Pyke, Theon Greyjoy's bastard son by some merchant's daughter, wore a black cloak embroidered by Sansa herself with golden Giant Squids along the trim. The collar was made up of black fur, and underneath his cloak, the one-and-ten year old boy wore layers upon layers of black clothing, making the already slightly cubby boy look even thicker than he already was. Sansa wondered if perhaps some more color in his wardrobe was in order. She would have to write Theon and consult him on the matter.
The second oldest, Minisa Tully, wore her house colors proudly. Her cloak was blue and the collar was made up of white fox fur, and her dress white with red embroidery of flowers and animals and such. Her long, red hair and blue eyes matched as well. Sansa found it remarkable how much she and Minisa resembled one another, almost like mother and daughter rather than cousins, and even more so how beautiful the girl had grown. At eight, Minisa was already the one of the most beautiful girls in the North. Sansa wished Edmure and Roslin had lived to see their daughter and how fine-looking she had become.
Vayonia Snow wore a cloak of red with a white fur collar and a pink dress. It all seemed to just hang on her tiny frame, though. Vayonia had always been small, even as a babe, Sansa remembered. She was a pretty girl, but small and timid looking, a great contrast to her bright and extroverted demeanor. Sansa sighed, seeing that Vayonia's hair had once again fallen out of its braid while she was playing, and her dress was getting dirty as well. That girl reminded Sansa so much of Arya sometimes it was hard to believe that she was Jeyne Poole's—or that bastard Ramsay's—daughter.
Daemona Bolton wore a pink cloak with a brown fur collar and a red dress with black embroidery. Sansa noticed they would have to be getting her some new dresses soon. The girl was the biggest of them all, having an appetite to match her personality and the second tallest—almost taller than Balon who was three years her senior—and once again it seemed she had had a growth spurt. Meaning new dresses and cloaks and boots and cloves. Sansa made a mental note to write Walda as well.
The youngest of the lot at three was Alyster Stoneheart, Sansa's bastard son. He wore the house colors she had given him at birth along with his own household name and sigil: black and blue. His cloak was black and emblazoned with a blue wolf with bat wings on the back and the collar was made up of white fur. His tunic and doublet were dark blue and his trousers were black and his boots made of worn brown leather. The dark colors made his red hair stick out like a sore thumb, but brought out his big innocent blue eyes nicely.
Together, the five children played in the snow, laughing and smiling and so pure and innocent it made Sansa's heart ache. Watching Balon piggy-back an absolutely beaming Alyster through the snow, hearing him make horse-like sounds and Alyster laugh made Sansa think of Theon and her brothers back when they were children. Seeing Vayonia hurl snowballs at Minisa and then turn and run, chased by the older girl in turn, and Daemona join in and help her Tully cousin bombard the dark-haired girl with snow made Sansa think of herself, Arya, and Jeyne.
These summer children had no idea of the darkness from which they originated. Balon may have been the oldest, but he had been in Sansa's care since he was five years old and hardly knew of the unforgiving world beyond Winterfell and hardly remembered his poor life as a bastard on the harsh island of Pyke. Minisa knew her parents died when she was a babe but not how. She didn't know how the Freys had held her father hostage during the siege of the Twins and had killed him when it was clear they had lost. How they had tried to kill her and her mother both that same night, but she had been ripped from her already dead mother's womb and saved. Vayonia knew only that her mother had been Sansa's best friend when they were little and that when she died, she left Vayonia in Sansa's care. She did not know who her father was, what he did to her mother, or the horrors she endured before her death. She didn't even know that Daemona was actually her aunt. Daemona knew her father had died while her mother was pregnant and that she had been sent to be fostered by Sansa to be of company to her cousin, but not that her father had had his head taken off by Sansa herself along with his bastard son's and many of her Frey relatives. And Alyster had little idea of what a bastard was, how hated he was for being one and yet so entitled, that people wanted him dead, or even who his father was. If the world did know of whom his father was, Sansa knew they would only hate him more. Not just a royal bastard, but a royal bastard fathered by a low-ranking Northern Lord who wasn't much better than a landed knight. One who was already married with several daughters and sons, and had no merits above having some fertile land for farming and relation to a few more prominent Houses in the region. That would just be an insult to all Sansa's suitors who had wanted to marry her before the purity she was so famous for was "soiled".
None of these children who played in the snow now and laughed and smiled knew of the darkness they came from or the darkness that awaited them in adulthood. Sansa looked at them and found it hard to believe she and her siblings hadn't been much older than them when their entire world came crashing down. Their safe little world in Winterfell had fallen apart, torn to shreds by the Lannisters, trampled by the Baratheons, drowned by the Greyjoys, smothered by those weeds the Tyrells, and burned and flayed by the Boltons and Freys.
But winter came and with it a time for wolves, Sansa remembered. The Vale came under her control, the Dragon Queen came to Westeros and Dorne rose its banners in her name, Jon rose from the Dead as the Prince who was promised, Bran, the Reeds and the Children of the Forest rallied, Osha, Davos, and Rickon returned, and Arya came home with Needle in hand and a hunger for justice not just revenge.
It was a dark and bloody time, full of vengeance and wrath and hate and love and heartbreak and so many other emotions. In the end, everything was set right.
The Starks reclaimed the North, and now the Riverlands and Vale—though the Riverlands were currently ruled by Rickon, he seemed more than content to let Minisa have the Twins when she was older, and Robin ruled the Vale under the watchful eye of Myranda Hardyng. Daenerys Targaryen took her Iron Throne but after losing all her dragons in the fight against the Others she knew better than to try and make a grab for Sansa's kingdom as well. With Stannis dead and Edric content to stay in Lys for the rest of his life, Gendry Baratheon, King Robert's bastard son, ruled the Storm Lands—though most knew that it was his wife, Lady Arya, who truly ruled. The Reach was still under the Tyrells, ruled by Willas Tyrell, and Garlan and Loras were still the most knightly men in Westeros, though Margeary had made a name for herself as being "cursed" and not a man in Westeros would touch her. Arianne of Dorne ruled by the side of her paramount and their bastard children and raised her bastard daughter to be her heir. The Iron Islands were ruled by Queen Asha Greyjoy and Asha Greyjoy alone.
Sansa looked at the world she lived in now and was surprised at how so much had changed in the last two-and-ten years. She wondered how much would change in the next twelve years, and the thought made her look at her four wards and her son and want to cry.
In a few years, summer will end and winter will come again. These summer children will be gone and in their places will come people much different from the way they are now. Sansa looked out at the children playing on the glade and hoped it would be a long summer.
A/N:
I hope you liked it. This was my first attempt at a future fic and I hope you enjoy it.
It contains a few headcanons of mine clearly, but I hope that doesn't bother anyone.
As a note, this takes place twelve, almost thirteen years after the events of the first book, Game of Thrones, so Sansa is about 23-24 at this point.
Please review! And Thanks for reading!