I had been thinking about an amnesia prompt too, but with Sansa losing her memories back until she was still afraid of Sandor and in love with Joffrey . Waking up after some traumatic event, not remembering her husband (Sandor of-course) or her kids or her position be it Queen in the North or Lady of Winterfell. Bonus points if Arya becomes Sandor's reluctant assistant in getting SanSan back together. houndandshewolf's prompt from the second comment fic meme on sansa_sandor community.

The chapters are usually short, around cca 700 words to fit in one comment. The longer chapters are up to three comments (cca 2000 words). Other than SanSan I was very vague on the pairings so you can imagine whatever couples you want. Also, this is a future fic set in a relatively happy-endingish future, so it should be pretty clear I do not own the characters or anything else.

ARYA

Arya thought she was familiar with the feelings of guilt and self-reproach and with handling them but seeing her older sister lying in the bed, pale and unconscious, a bandage wound tightly around her head, she was overwhelmed by them nonetheless. If only she hadn't insisted on that ride or if she had remembered that Sansa's riding skills, while improved from when she had been younger, still lacked in comparison to hers. If only...

"We can only wait for Princess Sansa to wake up," Maester Denar said quietly. "The wound itself wasn't deep but I am concerned for the long state of unconsciousness. Head injuries are very tricky and the longer she lingers like this, the harder it will be for her to wake up."

"My brother had been unconscious for months after his fall from the tower and he woke up in the end," Arya pointed out when no one else spoke. Rickon, almost a man grown at fifteen, was doing his best not to cry and Arya didn't dare to look at the other man in the room at all. If anyone was going to blame her for this more than she did herself, it would be him.

"Well, yes, but Prince Brandon's case was quite different. I was given to understand his prolonged state of unconsciousness was partially caused by his third eye refusing to open."

"How long do you think she will be like this?" the raspy voice made Arya wince and she finally looked at her goodbrother, a man she had once hated more than anything. Sandor Clegane wasn't paying any attention to her, though, his gaze fixated on the motionless woman in the bed. Outwardly he looked calm but Arya could see his hands clenching into fists and relaxing again. He was doing his best to keep himself under control. Arya would have preferred if he shouted at her.

"That is hard to say, my lord," Maester Denar swallowed. "A couple of hours at the very least, I would say."

Clegane nodded and stood up. Arya finally snapped, the tension getting to her.

"Where do you think you are going? That's your wife in here."

"And our children wait for the news about her state," he jerked his head in the direction of the door. "Catelyn is old enough to understand what's going on and she has been most likely crying since she saw you bringing her mother back."

Arya was about to apologize - something she did rarely - but he didn't wait for it, slamming the door as he walked out. Rickon looked at her with an accusing glare.

"What? It's not my fault he has a short temper," she muttered before she stood up as well. Ravens needed to be sent, to Jon and to Bran. Luckily, both of them were at the Wall together and Viserion would have them at Winterfell within two days of receiving the message. Daenerys, too, would most likely want to know. She and Sansa had grown close ever since Jon's legitimization made them a family. "I am going to write letters to Jon and Bran, Denar. I will bring them to you in an hour."

"As you wish, my lady."

Arya walked out quickly, the sight of Sansa being so still making her uncomfortable. It had been an innocent suggestion. Sansa had been looking pale after spending the better part of the year indoors after birthing her third child. Daeryssa was collicky often as a newborn and Sansa had spent many nights tending her youngest. The baby girl got better after she reached six months of age and started crawling around and Arya, who had come in to visit, had cajoled Sansa to take a ride with her, to get out into the sun.

The door to the children's room was closed and Arya didn't stop by to listen if Clegane was there or not. He was a good father, Arya had to acknowledge. He was far more patient and gentle with his offspring than Arya would have thought or expected of him. Shaking her head as if that would help her shake off her errant thoughts, Arya entered her own room and sat down at her table, her task of informing the rest of the extended Stark family about Sansa's accident being one she didn't look forward to.