Tyrion was growing weary of the north. The men looked at him with more than their usual brand of distaste and revulsion, there was always a cold wind blowing, the whores were unextraordinary and most importantly, the wine was not plentiful. Good quality whores and an excess of wine was apparently not a priority in the Honourable Ned Stark's mind. Tyrion snorted into his goblet at the thought. Not that he should have assumed it would be. Fortunately, the king was also growing restless in the North and wished to return south as soon as possible. 'Thank the gods' Tyrion thought as he basked in the warm embers of the hearth, inside his private chambers.

Tyrion, however, would not be returning south for the moment. No, he had planned to ride north in order to visit the Wall. It truly was an outstanding piece of architecture and worth visiting once in his lifetime. With a small contingent of men travelling to join the Nights Watch, now was a perfect opportunity for him. He severely doubted he would ever venture to this end of the Realm again, especially with the years of winter yet to arrive.

Ned Stark's bastard would be joining the Night Watch. It was unsurprising really but still noteworthy all the same. The fact that the honourable Lord of Winterfell himself would sire a bastard was noteworthy on its own. A few Lannister men would even be joining him. Not out of want or concern but a twisted sense of loyalty to his malevolent father. 'The story of my life' He thought bitterly.

Either way, it was a good opportunity and hopefully an interesting journey where many old tomes he had yet to have his hands on will be found. Not that he held onto the hope that the Watch of rapists and bastards to have many a thought provoking book but you could never be certain. He had thought the same of the North and yet had discovered a hidden Jem in its otherwise standard collection of uninteresting histories and fables of the North.

Well, he did not discover said book but it was recommended by a rather perplexing young Lady. Sansa Stark, a beautiful name for an undoubtedly beautiful girl. He had to remind himself repeatedly not to ponder the girl but found it difficult. She was a conundrum. In a world of predictable, power hungry proud nobles, she stood out as bright as a drop of blood in a blanket of snow. The girl seemed earnest and honourable but she was still young yet. Perhaps he should not be surprised Stark had raised such an honest daughter. Tyrion frowned and swirled his wine in his goblet for a few moments before downing it. No, even for a Stark she was still unique.

Tyrion had never considered himself to be a fool, many other things perhaps, but never a fool. Until now that is. He was foolish for becoming so fascinated by a young girl and pondering her character. Is this how Robert Baratheon felt when he met the young Lyanna Stark? If the girl is anything like her Aunt then he understood a great deal better how an entire dynasty and Kingdom fell for one woman. But this situation is different, he decided. Far different. For that was about love and not simply curiosity. A mild obsession perhaps but not love. Tyrion poured himself another goblet of Arbour gold and drank deeply, imagining himself to be as wretched as a child molester in lusting after the girl. No, he did not lust after her. Tyrions mind couldn't help but wander to Sansa Stark and picturing her angelic features, obvious beauty and welcoming smile. He coughed as he drank again from his wine. No, admiring her visually is not lusting. If one thing he knew and knew well was lust and he did not lust after her. She was a just a girl, with the face of an angel but still had a childs body. Just on the cusp of womanhood, he mused. It was fortunate he did not visit Winterfell a few years later or he might have been really foolish and become besotted with the girl.

Tyrion laughed mirthlessly at the thought.

Considering this for a moment, he shook his head, feeling a slight haze from the wine. No, if it was a few years down the line the girl would have changed. She was still a child – an innocent and hopeful young Lady who saw the good in everyone. A year from now and she would be as cynical and critical as the rest of the women in court who eyed him in contempt as he waddled by. Lady Sansa would know what a man is supposed to look like and know for certain the extent of his inadequacies.

It was a rather sobering thought that the wonderful young Lady he had just met would grow out of that which stood her apart but knew it to be truth. Children are good and kind but soon learn the ways of nobility and judgement. It will be the same for the Stark girl.

Tyrion did not drink anymore wine, but rather, slumped clumsily in his padded chair beside the fire and let his troubled mind drift to more pleasant topics.

His mind was pulled out of its wanderings by a banging on his chamber door.

Tyrion stumbled a little as he hopped down from his high seated chair and made his way over to the door on unsteady feet.

Throwing it open, he looked to see some northern guard staring down at him with a grim expression.

Tyrion stared at the man expectantly, "Yes? Is there a reason you are banging on my chamber door at this hour? Mayhaps you simply want the pleasure of my company and wine?" He drawled out in mild annoyance at the disturbance.

The man did not appear to appreciate his good humour, "Lord Stark has requested your presence immediately in his solar. I am to bring you to him" Stated the man firmly.

Tyrion was very curious and a little dismayed, his mind pondering if he had 'accidentally' offended the honourable Lord of Winterfell.

"I see. This request, might I take it up in the morning? Or rather, afternoon, as I am certain I will not be functional until later in the evening. Or shall I bring my Arbour gold? Is Lord Stark looking for a drinking partner? Perhaps one with the capacity for conveying facial expression?" He jested with the man who's features looked to be carved from stone.

"No, you will come immediately" Was all the guard said in return.

Tyrion heaved a sigh and made to follow the man but not without adding, "I see. Some request"

Ned Stark sat in his solar late in the evening yet again. This visit from the king was more troubling than he had first imagined. He assumed that he would be offered the position of Hand and was intending on refusing but now everything seemed to be spiralling very quickly. Jon Arryn being murdered by his wife - Cat's sister – at the behest of Lord Baelish. Robert having changed so much and making awful political decisions. The list was endless as it was perplexing. However, the biggest adjustment of all is his eldest daughter.

It was a rather perplexing situation, the more one thought on it. Everything was changing with the seasons and he was not confident about anything. Only one thing he was certain about and that was that he trusted his daughter.

The knock at his door alerted him that his guest had arrived.

"Enter" He called and the chamber door opened. Jory entered and escorted Tyrion Lannister as requested. The Lord of Winterfell observed closely the half man that his daughter holds in such high regard. He was unattractive, short and his waddle was rather distracting. It brought away from how his keen eyes were taking in the room with an assessing gaze and taking himself in with a curious but educated eye. This was not something that he would normally have caught if not for Sansa's words of praise,

'Tyrion Lannister is not similar to his family, father. He has honour and is cunning enough to guide you through the treacherous waters of the Red Keep. People often overlook him because of his size and attitude but I would hope that in the North we would not judge someone based upon their appearance and more upon the content of his character. Though, I may warn you, Tyrion Lannister fools many men by making crude jokes and behaving in an uncaring manner. Be very careful, beneath that armour is a sharp political mind and can twist any situation to his advantage so do not offend or made an enemy of him for it may be the last thing you do. It is important that we make an ally of him now as although he is unflinchingly loyal, his loyalties lie with whom he deems worthy and not solely with his House and kin. He is brave and will stand up for what he believes in but is not foolish enough to see himself killed for it. If we can make him an ally then I guarantee he will aid us back tenfold though we may never hear of it"

After the rather lofty speech from his daughter he was admittedly curious. Tyrion Lannister, by all accounts, was not like any man he had met before. A conundrum, an honourable man but behaves as a lustful imp? A man who knows his place but is disrespectful to his superiors? A cautious man that behaves as a fool? A loyal man who is not devoted to his kin? He did not fully understand Sansa's explanation but knew it was not his strong point in knowing and understanding people's character. It was no secret that the Quiet Wolf was not a very sociable person. But Sansa's absolute certainty at Lord Tyrion's honour and strength of character was enough for him to give the man a chance.

"Lord Tyrion, thank you for joining me so late in the evening" Ned said to the imp as he continued taking everything in.

"Of course, Lord Stark, I am certainly curious as to why my presence is required at this time in the evening" The Dwarf replied easily as his oddly misshapen eyes laid upon him. Ned kept eye contact in order to study this unusual little man his daughter thinks so highly of. The small lord waddled his way to the other side of his desk and hopped up onto the high chair to be at a more equal level to him, the mismatched eyes never leaving his face.

For all his trust in his daughters insight, he was unsure of how to begin his own assessment of the imp, "Yes, I trust I did not disrupt your rest?" He began a little unsure, it was not in his nature to be so vague and conversational but he didn't see much of an option here.

Fortunately the imp did not seem too put out by his behaviour. A small chuckle left Lord Tyrion's lips, "Oh no, My Lord, fret not for you are not disrupting my sorely needed beauty sleep. Was I correct in assuming you are looking for a drinking partner? King Robert is not what he used to be I suppose" Ned frowned and watched the smirk lit up the crude features of the little Lords face. If he wasn't looking for it he wouldn't have noticed the sharpness of his gaze.

"No, Lord Tyrion, it is not" Was all he replied, hoping the Lannister would speak more freely. Suffice to say Ned had to bite his tongue to keep in his disapproval at the disrespectful comment.

"Yes well, is there anything I can help you with? A cupbearer? A footstool? I am the perfect height for such a task I assure you" Lord Tyrion began, his mouth twisting in some mock semblance of amusement but slightly more bitter.

He continued, his eyes wandering a little, "I must say, Lord Stark, you are being rather vague as to why I have been summoned. You seem more like the direct sort of man and it seems very unusual for you to ask me here at all - unless I had caused you some offence, which I am certain you would have informed me of immediately – and yet you haven't gotten to the point. Why would you wish to speak to me? A dwarf, mere lustful imp and yet also brother of the queen, Kingslayer, and second son to the lord of Casterly Rock. These titles would hardly hold any weight with the honourable Lord of Winterfell, if anything it would deter you from me. So I believe this is to do with simply me yet I cannot fathom what has drawn your attention to me aside from being a product of my house and kin. So if it is not rude of me to ask: why am I here?" He finished this speech by staring directly into his eyes.

Ned was silent for a few moments.

It was undeniable the man was intelligent – smarter than his brother and sister respectively. This was no fool and he appreciated his directness and would be impressed if not unhappy at the disrespect.

"To be blunt with you Lord Tyrion, I have not noticed you personally but you have certainly stood out here in the north" Ned began with a slight falsehood, "It is no secret my distrust of the Lannisters but it has been pointed out that you are... different from your kin in certain ways and I wanted to see for myself. Yes, you are a dwarf but that would hardly stop me from wishing to speak with you. We don't judge a man based on his appearance but on the content of his character on this side of the world" Ned began his speak, alternating between looking the imp in the eye and staring at the candle flickering on his desk.

He continued, "To be truthful, I am looking for allies for my journey south where I shall begin my position of Hand of the King. It has been pointed out that you have a keen political mind, excellent judgement and enough common sense to make a good ally" Ned finished at felt a little foolish and very wary placing so much trust in a Lannister.

It was very difficult to judge Lord Tyrions reaction to his assessment. If anything he looked slightly shocked and very mistrustful. Ned knew the feeling well. The dwarf donned a thoughtful face but twisted smile as he replied, "I see and this offer coming from a Stark to a Lannister? Forgive my hesitance for this does not seem like something the great Ned Stark would do so willingly, yet such dishonesty from a Stark seems equally ridiculous. May I enquire as to whom set you upon this path?"

Ned frowned at the honesty in the mans words, "Yes, It is true the Starks – and I in particular, hold no love for the Lannisters – however, we are not enemies and I do not wish us to be. I disagree with the 'honour' and methods your kin uses to maintain power and 'justice' but that does not mean I will necessarily disagree with yours. I do not wish to be at heads with the whole House of Lannister in Kings Landing for it will cause more issues than it's worth. I want what is for best for Westeros and if maintaining a somewhat amiable relationship with you then so be it. I would hope that we would both work in our own best interests: that of the realm"

Tyrion Lannister remained quiet and with a thoughtful look upon his face for a few moments. Ned gave him a while to think through what he said. It was a good sign that the man thought before speaking despite his earlier rash comments. Sansa was eerily accurate in her description of the imp, if not for the overly high praise.

"I see, I can understand your reasoning and must say that your logic does not fit in with the 'Stark Stubbornness' I have often heard of through Roberts drunken ramblings" Ned frowned at this, "I do see the advantages in such an... alliance and I am intrigued. What is your proposition?" The half man leant forward in his seat slightly.

Ned sent a quick prayer to the old gods that he would not regret this decision and again questioned his sanity in letting his one and ten-year-old daughter make such important political decisions, "I propose that if you can be proved to be worthy of the duties and responsibility then I shall give you the position of Master of Coin"

Tyrion Lannister seemed speechless. Through his very little acquaintance with the man Ned got the impression this was quite a feet. The Lord of Stark tried to fight off a smile at the dumbfounded look upon his face. He wondered if he had looked the same way when Sansa had proposed this to him previously. Now only if he was as eloquent as his daughter and could explain this appropriately.

Sansa's days were simply becoming more and more wearisome and daylight hours seemed to pass so quickly. It was a much loftier task that she had originally thought, running the household in mother and father's absence. And caring for her mother. Sansa wondered if this was what it was like to be a mother. Her duties included making sure Lady Stark was bathed, fed regularly and wiped away her tears. She was starting to question her life long desire of motherhood. In many ways it used to be her only goal in life. A beautiful husband and children and whilst she certainly wanted the children she also had a desire to make herself useful and to make the realm a better place. A place at Dany's side. Daenerys... how she missed her close companion. Dany was the best friend she had ever had, late nights with a bottle of wine, wrapped in furs and giggling about members of the court.

As Sansa approached her chambers she banished any previous thought of the mother of dragons lest the ache in her chest spread to something more troublesome. It was painful being separated from those she was closest to, painful indeed. She missed her family and her husband. She often wondered if she should change as much as she has, the future would not be the same and she would not have the comfort of her improvised family this time. These were dark thoughts.

Sansa wrapped her thick cloak around herself and came to a decision as her head swam with thoughts of her previous life. A very difficult decision but one she needed to make. Making a swift turn through the halls to the Maester Luwins office, she prayed that she was making the right decision.

The small piece of parchment she had hidden in her corset felt like a rock. This was simply a wilful dream she concocted and dismissed as impossible. But now she had changed things. She was influencing things. Sansa learned a great deal from her husband but by far the most obscure lesson was that in life in order to get what you want, you had to take chances and gambles.

With this in mind, she unfurled the small piece of parchment and read as she walked.

Dear, Lady Daenerys Targaryen

You do not know me, nor do I you, however, we have mutual interests I believe. I understand that you may not be pleased to be receiving this message, especially from someone with my blood but I ask that you heed my words. Not for myself but for someone that we both care deeply about.

I am Sansa Stark, first born daughter of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell and Lady Catlyn Tully of Riverrun. You must be confused by my desire to contact you but I assure you I have no ulterior motives. To be truthful, it could mean treason but I am willing to take that risk. I am not a great Lady or a member of court nor am I an enemy of you despite our Houses most recent history. I ask, no, plead that you keep this message to yourself and do not, under any circumstances inform your brother or any of your ally's. I am putting great trust in you and if it were to be found out I was in contact with you or your brother in any way... treason will be the least of my concerns. Now that you are aware of the inherent and immediate risks that I am under, I hope you will put some small measure of trust in me.

I would like to tell you something. I am unaware of the extent of your knowledge of the uprising and fall of your House as you were but a babe and I was not yet born. It is reasonable to assume that both our ears have only been open to one side of a very complex tale. I wish to tell you a facet that no histories have mentioned. The war begun when your brother kidnapped the betrothed to Robert Baratheon, my Aunt Lynna Stark. When my grandfather and Uncle rode to Kings Landing to dispute this with your father, he had my Uncle Brandon burned to death slowly as his father and the court watched on. My grandfather strangled himself trying to save his son. I understand your scepticism at this piece of information but this event was witnessed by many and I doubt any of your ally's would want to sully your favour by revealing such a horrid truth about your blood. In return for revealing this cruelty, I shall tell you one of mine. My Aunt Lynna was not kidnapped. She fell in love with your brother and ran away with him. She abandoned her duties, honour and started a war within our realm for your brother. No one is aware of this fact and only my father - whom this information was only confessed to him on his sisters dying breath - was told the truth. This is a fact by which my father holds many regrets.

But I digress, this is not my intention of contacting you. It is about my Aunts death. She was discovered dying and the world believes that your brother was the hand that slew her. This is not true. I am placing my trust in you, by the honour of your ancestors and by the honour of mine, I pray that my trust is not unfounded. For the truth of the matter to which only three living souls are aware is that my Aunt died in childbirth. She died bringing her son into this world. My father, the only witness, took and claimed this boy as his own son with the mask of being his bastard son and raised him as his own. This is my brother, Jon Snow. Fortunately, Jon greatly resembles his mother with Stark colouring and features but his demeanour and personality is all Rhaegar, I've been told. Again, Fortunately, not many men take note of the bastard son of a Lord so his identity has been able to remain hidden. Jon... has been the most wonderful older brother I could ever ask for. He is patient, kind, honourable, intelligent and wise beyond his years. I have been blessed with four brothers and my eldest brother Robb is only several moons older than Jon. They are the best of friends.

If you hold reluctance to converse with one with blood such as I, then I can understand. If you desire to avenge your House then I, too understand but I hope that our connection to our mutual kin will halt such desires and allow us some semblance of civility.

The reason I am writing to inform you of this is that my brother Jon has elected to join the Nights Watch. He is but your age and has decided a long and lonesome journey in an attempt to find a place in the world. He is not yet aware of his Targaryen heritage. He is young and has much to learn and I do not wish to burden him with more than he can handle at the moment. However, one day I hope that you and he will be able to form a great relationship. Jon deserves more love in this life. Although my siblings and father look at him as our blood, the rest of the realm does not and it burdens him greatly. If, one day, you could fill this void in his life, I will be forever indebted to you.

My decision to write to you now is also to make you aware that you and your brother are not the only living Targaryen's. Maester Aemon of Castle black and brother of the Nightswatch, is infact, your grand-uncle. In becoming a maester and joining the Nightswatch he denounced all ties with politics, so on his honour and by his vows, he was unable to do anything to aid during the war. Not to mention, due his advanced frailty as he is the oldest living man in Westeros. From my little understanding, I believe he was quite close with your brother Rhaegar and wrote to him often. My gift to you is this knowledge and my assurance that he will welcome any correspondence you may give, as long as it is personal and not political. The wall holds no sides and for this reason alone, he has escaped Robert Baratheon's great hatred for your blood.

Again, for these gifts I hope in return you will not inform your brother or any living soul of the information I have bequeathed to you.

We are not dissimilar in age, you and I. I will reach my two and ten birthday in soon and you should have already begun the journey into womanhood. I know not where our futures lie at this moment but I have faith in your honour, My Lady, my reasoning, however, I cannot express at this moment in time but mayhaps one day I will get the opportunity.

Magic flows through the blood of both our Houses. Yours by fire and mine by ice. Both seemingly incorrigible yet your brother and my Aunt managed to discover peace. Perhaps if they had both survived then we might have been great friends.

So for all of these reasons, I offer the hand of friendship and choice for you contact your great uncle and in time - when my brother is prepared for the information - begin a relationship with your nephew.

I do not find your House to be inherently evil based on its actions alone and I hope you will have enough wisdom to believe the same with mine. Any quarrel you have with my kin, is something which saddens me but I accept.

I am no great Lord or Lady, I have no political sway, I just desire there to be less hatred and more acceptance and love for my brother and my home. This is simply I taking a gamble based on the honour I have heard your brother possessed and pray that you are the same,

Yours faithfully,

Lady Sansa of House Stark.

As she read the letter over Sansa couldn't help but let a few tears slip though couldn't bring herself to regret this decision. This could mean death. It could mean treason. She was toying with the life of her brother if this information fell into the wrong hands. But her actions were not entirely selfish, no, Dany's presence in Westeros is essential to the future peace and prosperity of our realm and it's survival. This letter is not only possibly gaining an ally but hopefully a friend. The future is going to be very different but she hoped that some things would remain the same. They needed to for the survival of all of us.

With an odd calmness settling into her, Lady Sansa Stark tied the message onto the foot of a raven and sent a silent prayer as she watched it disappear into the night.