Surprisingly to Sansa, she did collapse almost immediately after Tyrion and Arya left her chambers but did not fall straight into slumber. The emotional conversation with Tyrion as well as the revelation about the moon tea had drained any energy from her. Her thoughts about a possible post-war future had changed so dramatically in such a short period of time, that her head was spinning. She full well knew that she had been using her possible barrenness as an excuse against remarriage when the truth was more simple. She was frightened. Frightened of men, frightened of being bedded, frightened of losing control of her life again. But the hope of having a family, a new pack, and maybe a marriage full of love and mutual respect like her parents was enough to light a candle in the darkness. . She was coming to realize as she drifted off that while she might not need a husband she thinks she may want one of her choosing after all.
As she finally succumbed to a peaceful sleep, thoughts flitted around her brain like butterflies and she remembered Tyrion's soft warm eyes, his kind words, and the feeling of his beard as she cupped his face. In the last few weeks she had found his face joining that of her father, brothers and all of the good, kind, strong men and women she cared for and cared for her. She needed the reminder before sleep- Arya had her list, Sansa had hers. The names and faces helped quiet the nightmares more often than not. Although tonight only two faces would come to her, Tyrion Lannister telling her how strong she was and how grateful he was to be in her life and her father telling her he would find her a brave, gentle, and strong husband.
Sansa was in Winterfell overlooking the courtyard watching a boy of about ten training with her sister. The boy looked so much like her brother Robb it was like she had been transported back in time. But she knew without a doubt this dream took place in the future. Winterfell looked different then it had when she was a child, she could see all the new construction, even the broken tower in the distance was clearly repaired. The dream, the details, were so vivid she wondered if she really was dreaming or if she had in fact slipped into her future self. Aside from the boy and her sister below, she noticed several other figures on the wall. A very serious looking male child of about seven who had the Stark coloring but her bright blue eyes looked enviously down below. Another child, a girl of five hopped up and down off her stool full of energy. She had luminous blonde curly hair cascading down her back, but her slate gray eyes, stubborn set of her chin, and soiled dress reminded her of Arya as a child. The blonde girl was playing with another girl of similar age who was a duplicate of Arya in almost every way except her hair was much, much darker, a gorgeous coal black. This child was full of impatience and shouted below "Mama, are you almost done training cousin Robb? I want to go riding!"
"Yes, Cat we are almost done. After I check on little Jon in the nursery, I will take you, Ned, and Jojo riding."
The two little girls whooped and the boy looked far less serious at this announcement. The older boy looked unhappy that is training is coming to an end. "Don't be sad Robb. Ser Podrick will be back from his visit to the Twins soon and we'll both be training you so hard you won't be able to pick up your sword." Arya said.
At this point Sansa became aware of the other figure by her side, based on the size she was guessing the twin of the serious male child. His hair was a longer curly ash blonde and she combed her fingers through it lovingly. This must have been a common way she demonstrated her love to this child as he leaned into it like a cat seeking attention. She had remembered trying to do this with Bran and Rikon but they would always pull away embarrassed by the attention. She was content just to stroke his hair when suddenly a Septa came out of one of the wings onto the wall carrying a small bundle in one arm and holding the hand of a red haired girl of about two in the other. The girl ran to Sansa shouting "Mama" and she scooped her up and placed her on her hip while the Septa took her squalling infant nephew to his mother in the courtyard. Sansa kissed the girl feeling that her heart would burst and the child returned her kisses with a sloppy one of her own. However, the girl started squirming almost immediately and impatiently lurched out of Sansa's arms saying "Papa, Papa story!" Sansa turned to the side looking for the girl's father-her husband?- and was startled to see the child reaching for the small figure beside her. And that's when she saw the figure turn his head and the small bearded man took the child that promptly jumped into his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck. He smiled before burying his head in her neck and tickling her with his beard as the little girl giggled.
"Myra, Papa will read you a story but you must be more careful with Mama. Remember she has a baby in her belly." Sansa looked down at the swelling of her stomach as both her husband and youngest child touched her belly lovingly. At this point she looked at him, really looked at him-her husband and her heart just knew how right this felt. He was the same but older, more gray in his beard and hair, but he looked lighter, happier than he did now. As she took him in with all his perfect imperfections, he gazed up at her with so much love it took her breath away.
Sansa touched his face, "You spoil her." she chided.
"I spoil all my girls." he said.
"Yes you do." she smiled and leaned down to kiss her handsome, dwarven husband.
Sansa woke with a start. "Oh." she said out loud as a million thoughts and emotions churned through her body all at once. Most of which involved the small man she had just dreamt of.
"Oh what?" said her sister, sitting on the bed beside her.
Sansa sat up in bed startled to see it was the next morning. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept so long or so deeply. She was so shook up by the dream she found herself needing to talk. If a girl couldn't talk to her sister about such personal matters who could she talk to? "Arya, have you ever been in love?" Sansa asked boldly.
To her credit, Arya probably only showed a fraction of the surprise she felt at the question Sansa asked. "Who says I'm not in love now?" she answered. Her eyes glittered with mirth and was it joy?-yes, joy and happiness.
"How do you know you're in love?" Sansa asked. Her heart felt light just thrilled to be having this conversation with her little sister.
"I don't know how to describe it. He makes my soul feel both calmer and easier. I think about him constantly and miss him when we are apart. He's both my best friend and the family I choose. Love is a friendship that has caught fire and all you want to do is dance in the flames. Arya turned her head and looked at her. "And Sansa, all those awful songs and poems the bards would play that you use to love and I hated? They all make sense."
Sansa smiled overjoyed for her sister. "The Baratheon boy?"
"Boy? He's older than you, Lady Stark." Arya said teasingly.
"He's quite good looking, what color would you say his hair is?" Sansa asked giving her a sister a sideways looks.
"Coal black, like all Baratheons." Arya replied peering at her sister closely.
Sansa smirked remembering her sister's child in the dream. "Have you taken him to bed yet?" she asked
This time Arya did look shocked. "I can't believe my prim and proper sister is asking me if I'm fucking a bastard!" She laughed.
Sansa frowned. "I don't like that word."
"Sorry, making love." Arya replied rolling her eyes.
"Not that word. Fucking is fine. I don't like the word bastard anymore. I think we've learned more than anybody that a person should be judged on their character, not their name or family." Sansa replied.
Arya leaned back in the bed crossing her arms casually under her head with a dreamy look in her eyes. She looked at Sansa "Sister, fucking is more than fine, so much more than fine. If only young women were told how pleasurable the right partner could be for a woman, no bride would go to their wedding bed afraid." She gave Sansa a sad smile. "My times with Gendry has been nothing short of magical. I wish I could take the pain from you and you could experience what I have."
"Are you offering to share your handsome blacksmith?" Sansa teased not wanting to think about the past.
"No sister, he is mine and I am his and you would need to be in love with him to experience what I have. Besides, I think he's much too tall for your taste." And with that last pointed remark, Arya flounced off the bed while Sansa stared at her dumbly. What exactly was her sister implying? But then she blushed a little remembering kissing Tyrion in her dream.
"Get dressed Lady Stark. Lady Lannister will be here soon, and we have a party to plan." Arya said as she headed out the door.
As Sansa dressed, her dream kept haunting her and she began to pray that maybe it could be real after all. Her heart swelled with hope and an all encompassing, joyfull, yet frightening emotion for a man who was starting to become everything she never knew she wanted until now.
Tyrion trudged back to his room from the woods axe in hand. He was utterly spent in every way and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed. But a familiar figure staring into the Godswoods from the surrounding walls caught his eye and he approached cautiously.
"Mormont, what interests you so? Are the old Gods talking to you as well as Bran?" he japed.
"I have been looking after our Queen, Lannister, while you drown yourself in wine and self pity." growled Jorah.
He looked down below and saw Daenerys all in white standing near the Weirwood tree. The Queen and always been a beautiful, imposing woman regardless of her petite size but she had seemed smaller, more fragile in the North. He wasn't sure if it was the loss of her dragon or her strained relationship with Jon. She kept her eyes on the entrance clearly waiting for somebody. A brooding, handsome figure all in black appeared and approached her. Tyrion could see the minor, unconscious changes she made in her posture as her lover came to stand with her. Sometimes, it was hard to remember how young she was but her feelings for Jon brought it out in her.
The night he had seen Jon go into Daenerys room on the ship he had felt his heart sink. Not because he wished it had been him, but because it changed everything he had planned. He was also jealous, not because he wanted her but he wanted her to be lonely like him. She had loved and lost as he had and he thought he had found a kindred spirit, one who lived for the game and had hardened their heart to love. Had he met her at another time, he may have been a lovesick fool for her like Jorah, but his soul was full of hurt and anger that love was the last thing he thought he would ever be capable of again. That was until Sansa had slipped herself so easily into his heart as if it had always been hers alone to claim.
He sighed, "How do you do it Mormont? How can you be near her everyday, knowing she can never love you as you love her without it killing you slowly?" Tyrion felt a sudden kinship to the older knight and understood him so much better. He had been suffering with his feelings for Sansa for only a few moon's turn, how had Jorah stood it for years?
"Who says it's not?" Jorah admitted. " I am a weak man in many ways with a heart that both rules and ruins my life. But I've let it linger too long, I've lingered too long. I should have stayed away after she banished me, should have stayed away after I was healed. But I couldn't, I knew, I just knew she still needed me by her side. So Lord Hand, I do it, I do it for her. But she will not need me for much longer. She has finally found a man worthy of her now- if he can see past his damnable Stark pride." The two men looked down below to see the two figures below talking in hushed tones.
"Besides it turns out, I am needed elsewhere by another young woman. A different sort of love, one that will be better for my soul. It is time for me to go home." Jorah continued.
"Your cousin Lyanna will rule us all one day." Tyrion said without a trace of joking in his voice.
"She is a commanding young lady, wise beyond her years, but still a child, a child alone without any family but me. I never had a child of my own and now I will be her family and make sure no one brings her to harm or manipulates her power for their own agenda. Lyanna has an agreement with the King of the North that I am to be pardoned for my crimes if I pledge my sword to her as Lady of Bear Island."
"Gods help anybody that gets in her way...or yours." Tyrion said. He looked down below and saw the last two Targaryen's having an intimate discussion. "Are those two finally coming to their damn senses? Love..love like that is not something to be so easily put aside." he said wistfully.
"The Khaleesi is with child." Jorah said in a flat voice.
Tyrion's mind spun remembering his conversations with Daenerys, how she said she couldn't bear children. "How..I thought...she told me she couldn't. How do you know?" he sputtered.
"When you truly love a woman for as long as I have, especially from a distance, you notice everything. I know her looks, her smiles, her subtle small movements, what she's thinking, what she's feeling. I was with her when she swelled with child before. I could see her body subtly starting to do the same, the unconscious way she touches her stomach when she thinks nobody is looking, how fragile she has been since we arrived at Winterfell." Jorah said quietly.
Jorah continued, looking down at Tyrion, cleary avoiding the pain of seeing Jon and Daenerys together. Tyrion could see Jon cupping her cheek as she leaned into it. The memory of Sansa touching his cheek like that earlier filled his heart and he too looked away caught in his own damn emotions. "After the council meeting today, learning of the upcoming battle, I told her I knew she was with child and that if she didn't tell Jon that I would. We all might die in the upcoming battle, the man deserves to know that she carries his child. That she loves him...loves him even more than that damnable Iron Throne she's been chasing her entire life."
A strangled sob escaped the figure in black in the Godswoods, as Jon sank to his knees and wrapped himself around the Queen's slight figure. His head pressed to her stomach as to be closer to his unborn babe. Tyrion's heart ached with joy for them, pity for the tall older knight beside him, and a touch of envy wondering if we would ever feel like that.
"Tyrion." his head snapped up at that not remembering if Jorah had ever addressed him by his first name. "Take some advice from an old man, do not let fear hold you back. If you have a chance for that level of happiness" he said pointing down below "you take it. But make your feelings known to your Lady wife, promise me that. I at least know where I stand, thanks in no small part to you. It might not be what my heart wants, but it's better than not knowing. Just don't let it linger like I did, it has consumed me. I hold no hard feelings or regrets but I don't wish for another to suffer like I have."
"Do I walk around with my heart on my sleeve Ser Jorah? You are in a long line of people that has accused me of being in love with my wife in the last day." Tyrion sighed.
"You do not walk around like a man in love, but a man in pain, and it takes one to know one. Tell her, time is short. If she doesn't feel the same, get the damn annulment. Make a clean break, go South if we survive the day ahead. The Queen will find you a wife to warm your bed and give you children. You may not find love, but contentment in time. But you need to know if she feels the same or you will never have a moment's peace." Jorah continued vehemently.
Tyrion swallowed hard, all of his witty retorts frozen on his tongue as the truth of Jorah's words reverberated through his soul like a bell.
"I will keep that in mind Ser Jorah, and I shall miss your glowering face when you return to Bear Island." Tyrion left him there staring at the happy couple and headed back to his room even more spent and exhausted than before collapsing into a dreamless sleep.