Sansa recovers from giving birth to her first child.


Her limbs were heavy, mind foggy, as she came to. The room was stuffy; the fire warmed her eyes behind her eyelids, but it was an uncomfortable warmth. Her cheeks were burning. She wanted nothing more than to swim in the snow she knew was piled up outside her window. She wanted to cool her skin and ease the ache between her legs.

Sansa felt a tug at her breast and realized her septa was holding her babe as he suckled at her teat. The babe's head was topped with a curly wisp of red hair; it made her smile. The babe had the Tully hair, but what of the rest of the child?

To her right a large figure was pacing. Sansa gingerly turned her head so she could look at her husband. He was pacing back and forth, gently rocking a small bundle in his arms. As he turned back toward her, she could see it was another babe with flame-red hair.

"There are two!" she cried hoarsely. The septa visibly jumped, startled, but Sandor turned toward her slowly, a faint smile curling his unscarred lip.

"Two sons," he said, voice clearly resonating with pride. "Two strong sons." He perched himself beside her on the bed and turned the baby so she could see his face, smooth and pink and lacking any Tully features. Sandor watched as she lifted a hand to cup the baby's tiny face. "Maester Collen was worried you wouldn't last the first night. I told him my little bird had birthed two sons in one night; she would not fall to a fever."

Sansa smiled sleepily. "How long have I been ill?"

"Nearly five days. Took more than one to bring the babes into the world." Sansa frowned.

"I certainly feel like it. I ache in places I didn't know were places," she joked. "I suppose I'll never know how my mother did all this five times. I'm afraid we'll have to limit ourselves to just the two children, my love."

Sandor gave a low chuckle and leaned forward to capture her lips with his. "What are you talking about?" he asked her with a smirk. "I've already planned five more."