Chapter Seven-A woman's worth

It wasn't comfortable sitting inside a carriage for longs periods of time hidden from view. The fluctuating weather didn't help at all and it was much worse considering the fact that she was pregnant. Every now and then, Sansa would have to vomit into a bucket which would permeate throughout the carriage even with the curtains opened. Although Shae hid it well, she was disgusted by it and even looked sick herself.

It only served to make Sansa feel more self-conscience, but there was nothing she could do about it. In fact she was too sick to care. To keep the peace, Shae assured her that this sort of thing was normal and would disappear within a few months, if she was lucky. It had been nearly three moons since she had ceased to bleed and the sickness had still showed no signs of disappearing.

Braavos was still many weeks away and the journey there was going to be dangerous. Sighing, Sansa pressed a wet cloth to her forehead and rested back. At least she was safe now, but she still had much to think about. "I hope Braavos lives up to its name," Shae muttered. Not looking up from the cloth that covered her forehead and eyes, Sansa replied.

"Why would it not? It's the richest, powerful and greatest out of all the free cities. I think it shall be very grand." Feeling a little better now, Sansa removed the cloth and settled back a little more appropriately into her seat. She had wanted to go on horseback for a little while since they were already far off from King's Landing, but Shae advised against it saying horse riding was the leading cause of miscarriages.

The servant still offered nonetheless. It seemed Shae didn't think it was a good idea to continue with the pregnancy and jumped at every opportune moment with ideas to rid Sansa of the child. Yet at the same time, still advised her and looked out for her safety. It was conflicting to be sure, but Sansa was positive her servant girl meant well.

"Do you plan to make a life there Sansa?"

She looked at her hand maiden then and thought for a minute.

"Well I'll have to. What choice do I have?"

Shae made a noise of disbelief and Sansa was surprised to hear her sound so cocky. But then again, Shae had never been a typical servant. "What can you do Lady Sansa? You are a woman of gentle birth and nobility. Can you cook, clean and sew anything besides banners?"

She wasn't sure if the woman was being sarcastic or not, but she answered her nonetheless.

"Just because I was born into nobility doesn't mean I don't know how to do anything. I'll have you know that I can sew and sew very well. Not just banners, but clothes of course. I know how to use a spinning wheel and weave fine threads. Most of my life was lived up in the north and noble women in Winterfell were expected to know these tasks. We didn't have easy access to trade as they do in King's Landing or a diversity of servants who know how to make elaborate dresses out of fine materials. With the aid of tailors for fittings, we did have to sew our own clothes so yes I know how to sew."

Sansa paused; ignoring Shae's surprised expression and continued. "As for cooking and cleaning, my mother and father were both honourable people and they expected their children to be the same. The North was a cold place even in the summer and though I have not experienced a winter, it is still cold there. Arya and I had to learn how to knead dough and make bread, roast meat and make medicinal drinks. Our Maester and our Septa taught us this. They said that they were preparing us for winter when food would be short and we'd have to give up a lot of our food to the people of Winterfell. My father often said it would teach us to appreciate the hard works our servants do and be more humble. The same with cleaning. My lady mother and Septa had me help out cleaning in the kitchens and our rooms. I am not completely useless."

When she finished she found that Shae was smiling at her, but her eyes were narrowed, cold and calculating. "Yes your mother and father were on the odd side of nobility. That must be why they were so loved in the North. However these would have been menial tasks, not the gruelling work of hours upon hours of hard labour in order to earn your keep. The servants would have still treated you like a lady and given you easy tasks at hand. You know nothing of what it is really like to work hard."

Sansa stared back at her aghast. Was Shae rebuking her? What for? For being born noble?

"Your time at King's Landing has taught you much of the cruel world, I'll grant you that. But it is not the same for a peasant. You have no title to protect you. You aren't worth piss. Men won't hesitate to rape you or mutilate your body. They won't care about children either. You are nothing, but cannon fodder for the rich and wealthy to live off. Even if you made a life for yourself in Braavos, it would be hard work especially with a child to support. Quite often than not you will have to sell your body just to make ends meat. If you are lucky and pretty enough, a rich merchant or wealthy lord will make you his mistress and you can push out as many bastards as you wish and then die in childbirth. Are you sure this is the life you want to live Sansa? You may find a way to earn money being a seamstress, or a scullery maid or a cook, but you will have no protection. Not even in Braavos."

Sansa was looking away, clutching the folds of her gown and struggling to keep her tears in.

"Why are you telling me this?" She whispered hoarsely.

Shae placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I am not telling you these things to be cruel. I am telling you these things because this is what the real world is like for those who aren't lucky enough to be born into royalty. I am telling you this because I don't think you are making any proper or rational decisions by wanting to run away with Tyrion and I to Braavos. The world is a hard place for women and you only get away with peace and luxury if you are a pretty whore or a queen. You are a pretty girl Sansa, but you are not a whore. You are royalty, but you are not a queen."

Silence passed and it was a long time before Sansa said anything.

"What are you saying?" She managed to draw out.

Shae removed her comforting hand and leaned back against her seat as Sansa had done previously.

"I am saying I think you should go back to your family…" Sansa cut her off.

"But I am pregnant!" She hissed. It didn't seem to faze Shae.

"I don't think you need to worry. Claim you were raped. You said your family loved you and I am sure they will either marry you off before you come to your childbed so you don't have to face the shame of giving birth to a bastard. Or they will simply make you hide your pregnancy and give your child away in secret. It isn't a bleak future out there for you Sansa. Judging by what is happening; it looks like Robb Stark is winning and since he is King of the North you will be the princess. I doubt that little shit Joffrey is going to live much longer. Take my word for it, the people hate him."

Sansa thought quietly. What Shae was saying made sense and yet her future back with her family didn't seem that much different. Of course they wouldn't be cruel to her like the Lannisters were and she so badly wanted to see her lady mother again, but to be passed off once more in marriage to someone who was not her choice just to save her brother's reputation? She was staying away from him for this very reason, but at least with this path she had a little more freedom. What about the other alternative? To have her child taken away and forever remain a hushed up secret? Not only that, they would try to marry her off to someone to make allies.

These were futures Sansa had understood very well growing up. She knew she'd be married off to secure an alliance or bring honour to her family name. She had grown up all her life trusting in her father's decisions to do the best for her and how badly that dream was shattered. But she was tired of that now. Tired of being used as a pawn. Tired of being measured by the blood of her maidenhead. She wanted to be free. She wanted to find love and marry for love.

It was then she realized that she wasn't finding the Hound for the sole sake of wanting to cover her shame. She wanted a father for her baby. She wanted the real father of her baby. A man that could protect her all the time as he did back during the riots. A man that would bring her pleasure as the Hound did during their night together. Although it had hurt, she was sure with experience she would feel the pleasure that she had women at court whispering about. Sandor had given her much pleasure with his mouth.

But most importantly, she realized she was at her happiest when she was with him. Did he feel the same? There had to be a reason he did all that he did for her. It was the one thing she disagreed with Shae on and would continue to do so until she heard the words from his own mouth or he hurt her.

Because in her heart she was sure that if she saw him again, everything would change. It would have to.

That night as they stopped for camp, Tyrion moaned as Shae moved on top of him. Deep breaths, hushed whispers of pleasure and muffled moans were the only sounds he heard in the secluded place Shae had found for them to couple.

When she finished she lay next to him quietly, staring up at the sky and contemplating the stars.

What does she think about in moments like this? He thought.

Does she think about me? Our future? Her past?

They were questions he probably wasn't going to get an answer to for a long time, but he was still extremely curious and eager to know. With a woman like Shae, nothing could ever be predictable and certain. He wasn't sure what to make of that either. Tysha had been predictable, but then again, Tysha had been the complete opposite of Shae.

"I talked to Sansa," she said quietly and out of the blue.

Tyrion blinked as it took him a few moments to comprehend what she was talking about, but nodded in understanding.

"And?"

Shae hesitated.

"I was absolutely forward with her, but despite that, I have the feeling she is still harbouring some irrational plans that she can live out her life in Braavos. She keeps telling herself it will be okay and thinks opportunities will open up for her like a common whore spread her legs in a tavern. I don't think I can convince her to leave Tyrion."

He was going to use a snide remark to her tavern whore comment, but decided against it. She only used his name when she was serious. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"We can't take her with us. I have protected her thus far because I owe her, pity her and because of her condition. I know she couldn't remain in King's Landing. Although no one knows who killed Cersei I am sure it is only a matter of time before Sansa is named as the culprit. The servants see everything. The thing is what to do? How do we leave her?"

Shae turned to look at him and he waited expectantly as she caressed his face.

"Write her a letter," she said.

Tyrion raised his brow.

"Write her a letter," Shae said again.

"Explain to her as best as you can why this course of action is necessary. She will be safe in her brother's arms and make her see reason. I already explained to her how little her prospects are to live a quiet life as a peasant alone with a bastard child. She may have heeded it, but you know Sansa. She is full of false hope. Write her a letter and we'll leave her quietly. You already have made the arrangements have you not?"

Tyrion grimaced, but nodded.

He turned to look at the night sky.

"I hope everything turns out alright for her and her child," he said thoughtfully, but he didn't believe his own words. His father was a vindictive bastard and would not rest until he had Sansa's head on a spike once he found out what she had done. And of course his son once he realized Tyrion had betrayed him and run away.

Benjen Stark puzzled over the book laid out in front of him. It wasn't written in the common tongue, but in ancient Valyrian. Growing up as a Stark, he had learned other languages and of course Valyrian as was the language of their Targaryen rulers, but this tongue was an older form of the language. He had a hard time deciphering the words, but with diligence and patience, it began to make sense. He had to thank Aemon for making sure he remembered how to read and write it if he ever got out of here.

The books he had found had been a big help and had given him an idea of what this place was and why it was here. A place during the time of the first men. A place that existed before the wall where the North had a king and a queen and was protected by the magic of warlocks, faceless men, Maesters and of course the Avatar.

He could not believe it. Whole histories had been destroyed, hidden and forgotten from all of Westeros for the last few thousand years. Benjen swallowed hard as he read over secrets that had been mislaid. He must have been the first to read them after all this time, even if it was coming from the writings of a Maester who wanted to preserve history through the centuries.

The last Avatar had married Brandon the Builder. His forefather, a renowned figure in Westeros history had been nothing, but a coward if even a great man at the same time. Licking his dry lips, he read on.

"And he listened to his lady's wishes and commissioned all able bodied men and the giants and the mammoths to build the wall. She no longer wished to do her duty. She no longer wished to protect the realm and so she used her beauty to shamelessly use Brandon's love to seal the fate of the North. The fate of her own people. She abandoned her post as their queen and Avatar, gave up her powers to form the barrier and allowed her husband to build the wall. The great empire of North was left at the mercy of the Others. The people became scattered, lost and destitute. Nothing but savages. All magic sealed and forgotten behind the wall because the lady wanted a simple life with no responsibility. She wanted her own peace at the expense of the horrors and sufferings of others. She shamed her queenly title, she shamed the gifts the Gods had given her as Avatar and she left all to ruin."

It was this passage that haunted him the most. That made him shiver to his bones. That 'she' had him mind boggled for days until he found another book listing Northern monarchy, nobles, important places and most of its discovered geography. Biting into a peach that grew within the warm confines of the glacier, Benjen reflected on who she was.

She was Queen of the North in her own right. Had been the only heir when the princess of the previous ruler married the former Avatar. The King had died making her mother queen and her Avatar husband king. And when they died, she had ruled in their place. The Maester chronicler said she was one of the most powerful Avatars that ever existed, but grew tired of her responsibilities and left her people to rot. Why?

Tired of ruling as a queen seemed too flimsy a rational. She scurried off to marry Brandon Stark did she not? He declared himself the King after the wall was set up so what was the difference? There had to be a reason for all of this. Why did she do what she did? There had to be some ulterior motive behind all this. There had to be a reason.

In hindsight she hadn't exactly done an evil thing altogether. She had done by Westeros by using her power to create a barrier that the Others could not get cross and then convince her husband to mark it with the Wall. But why condemn her people? Benjen rubbed his eyes. It was a lot to take in, but now he knew what their purpose was. The Avatar was the reason the Night's Watch had won their fight against the Others during the Battle of Dawn. The Avatar knew how to slay the Others, to use and police magic. They could communicate with the Gods, could see the prophecies…

But all the Avatars had waited for their purpose. Both male and female. To bear the Prince of Promise whom the Gods would grant with the ultimate powers to destroy the Others for good and return the seasons to what they were. There would no longer be the fear of winter or that of the cold.

Benjen wasn't sure of anything anymore or how much truth were in these words. But he had a feeling someone in his family was linked to all this and if the words of these scrolls and books were anything to go by, then that someone had a very important purpose and future ahead.

For various reasons, all these thoughts about the Avatar, leadership, purpose and a future centred around Jon Snow.

Was he the one?