Tyrion

Within an hour they caught up to the others and Tyrion smiled at his son, sitting atop a horse on his own. Arya held the reins tightly, and was smiling at the boy. "He wanted to copy Maeri," she said.

"Dada, look at me!" Robb said eagerly, almost bouncing up and down on the fortunately good tempered horse.

"Well done," Tyrion said with pride. "You look like a proper little knight." Robb laughed with pleasure and he felt such pride in his son. Soon he'd have to have someone teach Robb to properly handle a sword. At four and a half it was about time he started to learn. Jaime had begun at under three, he seemed to remember. Tyrion didn't really know how to handle a sword. Embarrassingly when he'd been a child the longest weapon he'd been allowed to handle was a long dagger. He'd only learnt for a few months, before it became clear that people had been laughing at him, comparing him with Jaime. Then he'd lost all enthusiasm for it, and his father hadn't pushed it either, ashamed of him. No matter how well or poorly his son was with weapons, he would never make him feel ashamed or unwanted. That he vowed to himself.

Arya

She lay sleepless, tossing and turning. They were at Moat Cailin and it would be the most comfortable bed they had for a while, considering Winterfell was rubble. But she couldn't sleep and she knew exactly why. Though that wasn't helping her right now. She rolled over yet again, trying to get more comfortable, then smiled when the wolf joined her. The wolf looked at her with wide eyes. "I'm all right," she said, only half true. "Go to sleep." She wished she could take her own advice.

After an hour, she gave up, and left the inn. Maybe a walk would clear her head. It wouldn't get rid of her problem though. The gentle sounds of the inn faded behind her as she walked away.

Before they left the rock, she'd suspected she might be pregnant, but now after so many weeks on the road, there was no doubt. And she had no idea what to do. She hadn't confided in anyone, and she certainly hadn't planned it. She'd always been a little… wild, never sticking to the pointless rules that Sansa had so determinedly adhered to. She didn't see the point and had always done what she wanted to, never wanting to be a proper lady. And now it had come back to haunt her.

She didn't want a baby. She had no idea what to do with children, she never had. Maeri and Robb were just now the age she could handle. You could actually talk to them, but Arya had no idea how she would cope with a newborn screaming baby. Added to that, the fact that she'd be demeaned as a whore, and no one would ever marry her. Not that she particularly cared about that, but it did hurt to know that from now on she'd be relying on her sisters goodwill, rather than ever have a home of her own. What in seven hells was she going to do?

She was eighteen, a lady by birth, unmarried and pregnant with Tom River's bastard. What in the name of all the Gods was she going to do?

Sansa

She awoke earlier than normal, to Tyrion kissing her neck and she smiled as she wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer. Her fingertips reached bare skin and she smiled, realising he was already naked as his hands started pulling at her shift.

"Morning," she said sleepily.

"Sh," he replied gently, before kissing her lips. She smiled as her hand ran through his hair, their bodies pressed together. "We don't have to get going soon?" she asked. She wanted to enjoy this time with her husband.

"We've got a good half an hour," he murmured. "Maybe longer before we're disturbed." She smiled widely at him, then moaned as his talented fingers slid over her sensitive skin.

They weren't nearly finished when there was a knock on their door. As one, Tyrion and Sansa said nothing and ignored it. Sansa started to laugh quietly as he kissed her in a ticklish spot. The knock came again, and the door opened.

"Sansa, I need to talk…" They broke apart to see Arya in the doorway, staring at them with wide eyes. Sansa grabbed a bed sheet to cover them up, but it was rather too late.

"I'll just…" Arya said, turning around and racing away, leaving the door ajar. Sansa groaned, staring at the ceiling, feeling absurdly embarrassed. She'd done nothing wrong. Sleeping with her husband wasn't against any rules, yet she felt as red faced as she would have five years ago.

"I need to go and talk to her," Sansa said.

"Why?" Tyrion asked with a lazy smile. "We're not doing anything wrong," he added, echoing her thoughts.

"I know, but when's the last time Arya said she needed to talk to me?" Sansa said. "Let alone this early in the morning. It must be important."

Tyrion nodded once in agreement. She had a point. Sansa looked at the open door and wondered if she dare make a quick dash to close it, naked as she was, when Tyrion saved her the trouble. He turned to face her and she looked at him, thinking.

"I want to stay in bed with you," she admitted.

"Tonight," he said. "When you don't have an errant sister to deal with."

She smiled. "Can you help me do up my laces?" she asked, getting up and starting to put her dress on. "I need to find her."

"I'd rather undress you," Tyrion said, smiling. "But I suppose I can do laces up just as well as undoing them."

It didn't take her long to find her sister. After a quick look in the inn, she realised Arya wasn't there, and that she'd left both her wolf and her horse. So she couldn't have gone far. She had a look outside and found Arya in a secluded glade, her feet in the small river stream.

"Hello," Sansa said, announcing her presence. She didn't want to sit on the earth and ruin her dress, but standing towering over her sister who was clearly upset wasn't ideal either. She compromised by crouching down, so only the hem ended up in the dirt. It was a travelling dress anyway, she said to herself. "What's wrong?" she asked gently.

"I want to talk to you," Arya said, looking at the water.

"Yes, I guessed that from the way you barged in to our room," Sansa said lightly.

"I'm sorry," Arya said, meaning it. "I didn't mean to interrupt, I heard you talking and assumed you were awake. I didn't think further than that."

"So I assumed," Sansa said. She wasn't going to apologise for what her sister had walked in on, even though her cheeks glowed red a little. "What's wrong? You've not been yourself for weeks." Arya said nothing, but Sansa looked at her critically. Her usual thin and skinny self wasn't really there any more. It wasn't that she'd got fat, it was more a softening around the edges. Her face seemed fuller than usual and there were dark circles under her eyes. Sansa took a shot at what might be bothering her. "Oh. How far gone are you?"

Arya's head snapped towards her, eyes wide and Sansa knew her guess was right. She hoped she was successful in hiding her surprise that her baby sister was pregnant.

"Two months," Arya said after a moment. "Maybe a bit more. Don't ask who…"

"I wasn't going to," Sansa said. There was an uncomfortable silence and eventually Sansa broke it. "Was it… rape?"

"No!" Arya said in surprise. Sansa believed her, because from the look on her face, rape had never entered her mind. "I stole some of your herbs," Arya said. "They didn't work."

"You have to take them every day," Sansa said lightly. "Not just the day when you're going to…"

Arya shrugged. "I didn't know that!" She looked shocked, then shrugged, looking back at the water. "Too late now anyway," she said dispassionately.

"What are you going to do?" Sansa asked.

"I don't know," Arya said. "That's why I wanted to talk to you."

"I can't magically fix this," she said.

"I know," Arya replied. "But as much as we're different people, you're the sensible one. The one who does everything right. The way she's supposed to."

"I don't have a solution," Sansa said. "Oh Arya…" Her strong tough sister's eyes were brimming with tears she was too stubborn to let fall. She put an arm around her little sister, holding her close.

"I don't know what to do!" she said.

"I know," Sansa soothed. "We'll think of something."

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