This chapter is from Val's third person POV. Shock can impact a person from 2 days to 4 weeks, so we're rolling with that. Only one chapter to go!

Chapter 10. A Different Perspective

Kneelers confused her, Mance said they were well cared for until the Starks had left Winterfell, but these Southerners hadn't rebelled the way her own kind would. Snow tried to tell her the bodies they had found were proof of rebellions, she scoffed at that, there were enough that if they were to rise together they could have held the castle.

"Not everyone is like us," Mance said. "It seems we are more like them than I thought, how did you convince them to fight?" He jerked his chin toward the free-folk, intermixed with Sansa's knights. The kneelers were learning how to tend to their own scrapes, and trading battle techniques; a good fight created a common thread between them.

"Their queen offered me her words." Val said.

"The woman at the wall?" Mance had a right to be concerned, the cold Queen with her red priestess and sick daughter had no understanding of her people.

"These southerners are from the mountains, they serve Lord Crow's cousin." Val explained. "She would try to get them to fight with us."

"She would try?" he was unconvinced. "She could turn around and leave us for dead, trying is not good enough."

"She said she would tell them, she won't force them to fight. We don't force our own to fight."

"You've grown soft in your time with them." Mance noted, she could only shrug at that.

"Soft doesn't mean weak," Mance's laugh boomed and it was a sound so achingly familiar it made her heart twist, inot the time/i. He clapped her shoulder and she could feel his grip through her furs. "Some fights are more important than others."

"Is that why you haven't killed the man who was holding me here?" He was still sore about that. She had to fight through several of the knights, eager to present the head of the man to their Queen, and when it became clear she had no intention to kill him everyone was upset.

"It should be done before Sansa arrives, she should not have to look upon him." Jon had said after publicly supporting her decision.

"She wants him alive when she gets here," Val scowled, how many times did she have to say it?

"She won't kill him," Jon said. Val couldn't disagree with that, she had taught the girl herself, killing would never suit her.

"Maybe she won't," Val agreed, "but if you take that choice from her Snow you're no better than them." A passerby would have thought she slapped him. He'd been avoiding her since, but Bolton lived.

"I won't break my promise Mance, she has Monster," her only way back to her sister. She had gathered a small group of free-folk so she could track the son before Sansa was brought to the castle. If he was in the forest she would find him.

"Val!" Satin was running toward her. Sansa must already be there. "We need you in the castle." Val could not accept a trade with only half of the terms.

"I have something to do." She grabbed her spear. "I'll be back in the morning."

Satin drew closer to he. "It's the Queen," his voice was barely a whisper. He didn't want to draw concern, but he wouldn't try to fight her unless it was important. She frightened most of the kneelers.

"Go through the wood, if you find any turncloaks bring them back here." She told the men from her group before following Satin down the path. He led her to a room well within the keep, and the temperature changed nearly immediately.

The Blackfish held Monster, Royce was guarding the door. She looked around the room, past the cracking fire to the bed. Snow and his wolf sat on either side faces wearing the same solemn expression. The wolf stared at the door, Snow stared at Sansa. Something must have happened to her then; Sansa lay in the bed, her hands were crusted in mud staring at the hearth.

Val walked forward and the Blackfish said, "we needed a woman to clean her up." Sansa's eyes were jerky like a fawn, scared, she couldn't look at one person for too long.

"Leave the pail, everyone out." Val ordered, and everyone hesitated. "If you don't want people knowing she's here you'll get out and let me do this quickly." Slowly they inched out of the door, the Blackfish set the babe in a makeshift cradle, Satin left a pail of boiled water at the edge of the bed. Snow refused to move and Sansa wouldn't look at him.

Val dragged the water to the side, forcing the wolf to abandon his post. "You can do this yourself." She said offering Sansa the rag, when the little queen took the cloth from her Val recognized what she thought was mud to be blood. "You're scared not broken."

"I didn't mean to do it," her voice was unsteady, like she hadn't been using it.

"Of course you didn't," Val agreed sitting beside her. "What happened?" Sansa shook her head. Scrubbing at her hands made a good distraction and they sat in silence. Her skin was rubbed pink before Snow placed his hand over hers. Sansa surrendered the rag before fixing her eyes back on the fire.

Val's patience was waning, she stood to check on the baby, added kindling to the fire. She was ready to leave, she had a man to find, half an oath was not enough. "I thought I could talk to him, keep him from hurting the baby until someone realized he was in my tent." Sansa was carding her fingers through Ghosts fur. "I told Ghost to get someone, he was going to be killed, but it was not honorable the way I did it."

Snow was at her side, anchoring her, she leaned against him. "I should have waited, but he just got closer and closer. He said he was going to kill the baby, he said he was going to bring me back here, he talked about my mother and Robb." She shuddered. "I had the knife in my hands, and I forced it through him." She looked at Val. "I never want to do something like that again."

"You won't have to." Val assured. "I thought southern queens didn't have to get their hands dirty."

"Since the Starks have held the North headsmen have not been used. I will not be the one to break that." Sansa argued. Val hadn't realized how proud this girl was. "I cannot lift a sword, and even if I could I don't think I could take another life." Sansa's gaze flitted toward Snow. "Perhaps Robb was right in making you heir."

"Don't say that." Snow's voice was harder than Val expected it to be. "The North is yours, those men have not fought for a queen who would stand aside to a bastard. You did not fight to get here only to give up." He was touching her face and Val looked away, it was a private moment.

"I'm tired of fighting Jon, and you have a right to a throne." Val hadn't heard Sansa mention Jon's rights to a kingdom. Everyone said he was a dragon now, but Mance said he was more like Sansa's father than people cared to pay attention to. Jon frowned at Sansa.

"Winterfell is yours, the North is yours; I will help you hold it however you ask, but you are the Queen."

When Snow had fallen asleep in his chair Sansa moved over in the bed and asked Val to lay beside her. "Arya and I used to do this as girls." Sansa said as she cuddled into the blankets.

"Dalla used to braid my hair when we shared a bed. She used to tell me stories."

"Good stories or scary stories?"

"Only good ones, life is scary enough to talk about it before you fall asleep." She felt Sansa's hands start to twist her hair.

"Arya used to tell the scariest stories,"

"Being behind walls, even if they're broken almost makes you forget what's out there."

"I haven't forgotten. Your people are welcome to stay behind the walls of Winterfell if they wish. They can help us rebuild it if they require trade. But I haven't forgotten my promise. You helped me take back my home, I will tell my men about the true war." Sometimes it shook Val to think of how much Sansa knew without a word being exchanged. "After fighting alongside your men I think they will be more likely to agree."

"Why?"

"Would you have left Monster with me in the beginning?" Sansa asked, changing the subject.

"No."

"Why not?" Sansa's voice was ever patient.

"Because I didn't know if I could trust you."

"Right, then you grew to know me." She was still twisting Val's hair soothingly. "Now, if I were to die, how would you feel?"

"Is this a trick?"

"In a way I suppose it is." Sansa laughed. "When you know someone it's harder to let them die. My men know yours now, they know at least one name, one story about their families. They become people. It's harder to say to no people than it is to say no to an idea." Val looked over and saw Snow smiling to himself, clearly awake ismug bastard/i. She let herself fall asleep after that. She knew Mance was wrong.

The council meetings were worse with the space afforded to them. The distance the southerners could put between one another allowed their words sharpened teeth.

"She murdered him." Corbray said firmly. Val watched Sansa lay her hand over Snow's, keeping him seated.

"Didn't you kill men, not just two days ago? Your queen was protecting herself, how is that any different?" Val asked him. iThese men aren't used to a woman questioning them./i

"That was a siege, I would expect a wildling to know the difference." He spat back. "It's her word against a dead man's." Val was fuming but it was Sansa's voice that spoke first.

"Perhaps our moral codes differ ser," She was using a regal tone, one Val only heard in meetings. "For I would never trade my loyalty for gold or children." Her words made little sense but Corbray paled and took his seat. "We have more pressing matters to discuss." Val was impressed. The fear was still there, Sansa hadn't slept well, Val would have guessed she was dreaming about her kill. The first one was always the hardest to get over.

Sometimes Val noticed the look when Sansa talked. She was trying to take herself out of the moment. Many men had that look before they died. She was still shaken, but had only been a day. Sansa was stronger than people gave her credit for. Val wondered if these kneelers had seen a parent killed before their eyes, she would bet they had not. Their queen was a survivor, she would get through this.

Over the passing weeks Sansa began to immerse herself in the castle. Val was content to live in the comfort of the keep for the time being, for she could go where she pleased by day and night. They had a place designated for training, and Val began to realize that Sansa knew what she was doing. The free-folk were practicing alongside the southern knights, occasionally giving combat suggestions. They were learning more about each other by the day.

Mance and Sansa were getting along surprisingly well. He had taught her how to set bricks along the great walls, it had taken time but Sansa began to delight in the shape the castle began to take once more. In the evenings Val would watch Sansa write letters to the south, requesting their aid in the North. Armies of thousands would be no match. They needed the south.

Val had expected Snow's relationship with Sansa to thrive away from danger, at least for the time being, if she hadn't heard their hushed words she might have believed it was. She had gotten lost in one of the bleaker portions of the castle, already so big and enclosed. She heard Sansa's voice make a suggestion and she meant to walk away when she heard Snow's unexpected response.

"They'll never allow it,"

"I thought a Queen was meant to fight," the problem with Sansa was that she remembered the smallest things people said.

"They'll want you to marry a highborn lord, a knight, even a commoner would be better than a bastard."

"In Dorne the prince was in love with a bastard. He brought her to Kings Landing, and stood proud with her beside him." Sansa was unshaken by the argument. "Besides, you are a prince, a Targaryen as much as you are Stark. We've been through so much, why can't we spend the rest of our days happy, together?" She paused, "unless I don't make you happy."

"You know that's not true."

"So you would rather see me married off to some stranger because of his title?" Her tone was one of genuine curiosity, which intrigued Val.

"I would rather see you married when you are ready to be married. Not to shield yourself from unwanted proposals. You wanted to marry for love, you shouldn't give that up." iHe's scared/i Val thought, it was strange, she hadn't known Snow to be so self-conscious.

Val forced herself to walk away, she had already overheard more than anyone was intended to hear. She would just have to retrace her steps.

Time passed while they waited for word from the south. The snow grew heavier, and repairs to the castle had to stop. The makeshift roof over the great hall would do, and it was where many people were sleeping until they called a march. More often than not Val slept among the free-folk and they would talk of their plans. Sometimes snow would fall through the cracks of the wooden roof, not as sturdily made as the stone above other parts.

Sansa had gotten word from her sickly cousin. She told Val about him before, that she looked after him before she came to the Wall. Sweetrobin, she called him, the man who posed as her father was still alive in a sky cell, whatever that was. "He has committed crimes against Westeros, not just me. I do not want to send him to a king who does not understand the power of his words."

"Then have him brought here," Val stated. She knew Sansa was listening to her, but often she needed to think of every suggestion. That was a difference between them, Val trusted her gut.

"And ask Jon to take another life because I cannot?" Sansa asked. "He killed my aunt, Sweetrobin's mother, shoved her out of the moon-door. I should let Sweetrobin make him fly," she sounded far away. "Frankly I had hoped he would have fallen out of the sky cell by now, but Petyr was too stubborn to let himself die."

Sansa sighed. "He also conspired with my aunt to kill her husband. He is the reason my cousin is parentless, Sweetrobin and his regent should have the right." She looked to Val, "don't you agree?"

"That seems fair," Val agreed, life for a life, a sound argument. Sansa must have agreed for she penned a letter quickly in response. There must have been more than that, Val thought to herself. The Bolton's had taken two Stark lives, and the Starks would take two in returned, perhaps that was why Sansa needed Val's agreement. She did not want to be a vengeful queen, Val had heard all about queens like that.

Bolton's execution was set for the following morning; all of the men who were once stumbling over one another stood to the back of the crowd, save for Mance. As a visiting King he stood alongside Val and Sansa. Though Val suspected things were not resolved between the queen and Snow it didn't escape her notice that Sansa's fingers were laced through his.

They were whispering, if she strained she could have heard them, but it was clear. He was concerned about her, which was no surprise, and she was insisting she could witness this moment. She was gripping his hand so tight Val was sure Sansa's knuckles would be white if she could see them. "You don't even have to watch," she heard Snow say, and Sansa shook her head.

Snow walked in stride with Sansa, that caused quite a stir, Val wasn't sure why. Bolton was bound and forced to his knees. Sansa's crown did not shine the way most crowns did, but it did not need to. If they didn't think her a queen before, surely they would see it now.

She spoke clearly, and slowly. She listed his crimes, and Val watched the horror slowly come across the faces of the onlookers. Had they not understood before? Or were they all sheep who followed the leader of the largest army? It was probably the reason Sansa had agreed to a public execution.

She asked for his last words, but Val couldn't hear them. Snow swung the sword but Sansa remained at his side. When the crowd began to disperse she heard strangers talking about the resemblance, how eerie it was. "They look like Lord and Lady Stark." Mance told her.

"Aren't they?" These kneelers and all their names for themselves.

"Their Queen's parents," he said.

"Do you think so?"

"Aye," Mance began to walk away. "It's no wonder they gave in so quick," he said gesturing to the crowd. "Ned Stark and his wife reborn."

Val glanced back at them as the body was thrown into the fire, a custom she was happy Sansa had taken to heart. It wouldn't do having this man come back for revenge. She wondered if the Lord and Lady Stark were so intent on duty the way she knew Snow and Sansa to be, if the Lady would put her family's justice above all else the way Sansa had. She hoped the Starks taught their children to keep their word.

Sansa had gotten her home back, now it was time to keep her promise.