Dany shivered in the freezing cold. She was wearing three layers of clothes and two thick cloaks and still the cold felt like it was seeping into her bones. She couldn't imagine living in the North, for all that Sansa loved it. Their guide told them that they'd reach Castle Black by nightfall, thankfully. She was ready for a warm meal and a roaring fire.

Above them, Drogon soared ahead. She hadn't seen Viscerion or Rhegal in a few days, but she knew they were nearby. The horn that she'd gotten from that strange Captain had worked, just as it had when he'd had one of his men blow it. He hadn't expected that when they'd come, they'd obey her command to burn his ships to ash. He and his arrogant marriage demand. You will marry me, or watch your own dragons burn your ships and men into the sea. She smiled at the memory. She and the ships Tyrion had arranged had sailed on, the horn in her possession, the Captain – what had he said his name was, she wondered – and most of his ships left burning and sinking into the bay. Every time she blew it her dragons appeared. Of course, Messendei and the others said it felt like fire was consuming their bones the two times she'd blown it – once when leaving King's Landing, to summon her babies to her; and once when they'd arrived at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, to ensure they followed her inland – but the dragons responded, and that was all that mattered. Truthfully, she felt the flush of fire when she blew it herself. It enveloped her so fully that she was hesitant to allow anyone else to touch it.

She looked curiously at the cities of tents as they passed by. "The war has ravaged here as it has everywhere else," she sighed to their guide, a burly man who'd introduced himself as Brother Merek of the Night's Watch, sent by the Lord Commander to escort she and her party back to Castle Black.

"No, Your Majesty, these are the wildings," he said. "They lived on the other side of the wall, but once the white walkers reappeared, the Lord Commander let 'em come through and live here. So they'd be safe."

"I didn't realize there were any people on the other side of the wall," she said.

He nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty. Lots of 'em. And lots 'o other things too, Children of the Forest, and giants, and all manner 'o things. They all come floodin' to the wall for protection, and the Lord Commander, he let 'em in. Said we couldn't leave 'em out there to die. 'Sides, if the white walkers strike 'em down, they'd get back up after nightfall. Over here, there's no chance 'o that, at least."

Dany nodded. "If what I've heard about the white walkers is true, it makes sense to bring them here to safety. To leave them on the other side of the wall is to only feed the white walkers army." She shivered again.

Merek nodded. "Not everyone agreed," he said in a low voice. "Said that we shouldn't be responsible for the wildings and the others, we can't feed 'em and such. A few 'o 'em tried to kill the Lord Commander over it. But the Red Witch, she brought 'im back."

"The Red Witch?" Dany asked.

Merek nodded. "She came with King, er, Lord Stannis," he said. "One of his advisors. His wife, Lady Selyse, follows the Red God, Rahallor or something like that."

Dany nodded in understanding. "R'hllor. I've heard of Red Priests," she said. "But I didn't know there were any here in Westeros."

"As far as I know she's the only one," he said. "Never heard of her god before her, and I've been over most the Seven Kingdoms. Sees images in the fires, and makes blood sacrifices. Most 'o us don't like her none."

Finally they reached the Castle, just as the sun was setting. Dany was happy to dismount, and turned to smile politely at the handsome young man waiting for her, wrapped in a heavy black cloak trimmed in gray fur. Beside him, the largest wolf she'd ever seen sat quietly, it's eyes alert and focused on her.

"Your Majesty, welcome to Castle Black," he bowed. "I am Jon Snow, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Commander," she said with a small smile. "Your sister has told me much of you. I admit, I didn't recognize you, you look nothing alike."

"My sister?" he asked, confused, and then hopeful. "Sansa? You must mean Sansa, Arya and I both look like our father, whereas Sansa more heavily favors Lady Stark."

"Yes, Lady Sansa and I have become good friends. She sent a letter and a package for you."

Was there relief in his smile? "I'm happy to hear that she is well," he said. "Please, won't you come inside? The fire is warm, and there's a meal waiting. It's not as good as what you've been eating at the Keep, I'm sure, but it's hot and filling."

"I'd be delighted," she said, following him into the low wooden structure. "I am grateful for a hot meal. Tell me, would a bath be possible?"

"It would," he assured her as she removed her outer layers of clothing, handing them to the girl accompanying her and going to stand before the fire as Jon gave orders for her things and staff to be shown to her rooms. "Despite the term 'castle' we aren't the most luxurious of accommodations," he said, coming to stand beside her.

"Yes, Tyrion told me of his time here."

"Tyrion Lannister?" Jon smiled. "I'm happy to hear that he's still alive. And well, I hope?"

Dany looked at him. "Yes, very. He and your sister are quite happy together." Did he know?

Jon looked stunned. "Together? You mean, together? As in married, together?"

Dany couldn't stop the chuckle from escaping. "Yes. Tyrion told me that his father arranged the marriage after her betrothal to the boy King was set aside, so that they could have her claim to Winterfell. They all thought she was the only living child left. Now of course, we know that isn't true."

"It isn't?"

Dany shook her head. "No, Sansa told me that your younger brothers are alive. The youngest one is in…." she paused, trying to remember the name of the city. "White Harbor, I believe, with a Lord…."

"Manderly," Jon said, grinning. "Lord Manderly is in White Harbor. He and my father were good friends."

Dany nodded. "Yes, Sansa said much the same. And apparently, there are rumors that your other younger brother isn't dead either, Lord Manderly is searching for him. He plans to raise both the boys in his home, although Tyrion has said that when things settle some he plans to send for the smallest of the boys to join them in King's Landing."

Jon couldn't stop smiling. "Well, Your Majesty, you have brought me good news. I'm grateful to hear of my brothers and sister. Has Sansa mentioned anything about Arya?"

Dany shook her head sadly. "No, although she hopes that perhaps she's alive as well. She said that if anyone was stubborn enough to survive, it would be your sister."

Jon laughed. "Yes, that's true. If it can be done, Arya will find a way."

Dany smiled at his obvious joy, turning so that her back would feel some of the warmth of the fire. And saw the wolf. "That is a handsome animal," she said. "Is he yours?"

Jon nodded, extending his hand. Obediently, Ghost came and sat at his feet. "This is Ghost, he's a direwolf."

"A direwolf," she repeated softly. "I've never heard of them. There's so much about Westeros I'm still learning."

"They're specific to the North. Each of us has one." He rested his hand atop the large wolf's head.

"Each of you? Sansa does not."

Jon was confused. "Yes, hers is Lady. Arya's is Nymeria, Bran hadn't named his when I left, but Ricken's is Shaggydog. Robb's was Grey Wind."

Dany was shaking her head. "I've known Sansa for months, and heard about her extensively from Tyrion before that. I've never heard mention of a direwolf, and I've definitely never seen such an animal."

"Oh," Jon said sadly. "Well, I'm sure it's hard to have a direwolf in a large city. Perhaps something happened to her."

Dany was pleased to talk with the Lord Commander for a long while as she ate, listening as he spoke of the white walkers and all of the people and beings he'd allowed to resettle on this side of the wall for their safety. "Tell me, Jon, Merek said something about the Red Witch bringing you back when you died?" She kept her voice low, even though they were alone in the room.

Jon nodded, obviously uncomfortable. "I only remember feeling the pain of the blades, and then I opened my eyes and I was in my room with she and Ghost. She looked almost surprised," he said slowly. "And then she smiled and said something about her god and prophecies and blood and fire. I was a bit disoriented, so I don't remember it clearly."

Dany nodded slowly. "Are she and Lord Baratheon still here?"

"Lord Stannis and his army have gone south but his wife and daughter are still here, with Melisandre. The Red Priestess."

"Has he been informed that there is a Targaryn on the Iron Throne?" she asked.

Jon shrugged. "I don't know," he said honestly. "He left here before we got the raven informing us. Lady Selyse knows, although she refuses to acknowledge him as King."

She nodded again. "Well, I'm sure I'll have some time to speak with her," she said politely before asking to be shown her room. Messendei was waiting, the fire bright and cheerful in the hearth, and soon she was bathed and sighing as she relaxed in a comfortable bed for the first time in weeks. The room wasn't large, but it was enough. Tomorrow, she thought sleepily. I'll have to call the dragons and ride out to see if I can find these white walkers. Tomorrow.

Sansa smiled and waved to a group of children who called out to her as she rode by, pleased to notice they were all wearing heavy cloaks, boots, and gloves.

"Hullo, Lady Lannister!" a plump innkeeper called, smiling broadly. "I've a good, rich fish stew for the midday meal today with fresh bread, it's baking now! And a homemade nut cake!"

"I'll be back," she promised the smiling woman.

She and Alinor checked on several housing structures being built, and selected a few other lots for additional buildings with their foreman. "It's slow goin in this weather, milady," he frowned. "The ground is hard as rocks, and the wood's all damp."

"I know," Sansa said regretfully, pulling her hood forward as the snow began to lightly fall. "But the King has tasked us with getting these people off of the streets. They may have to be pulled down and rebuilt when spring comes again, but for now we must do the best we can." The man sighed and grumbled, but agreed.

She and Alinor settled a few bills with bakers and innkeepers who were feeding the poor, and with the old woman who created the maester's salves, and with the stables who were allowing people to sleep in the empty stalls. Then she stopped at a dressmaker to discuss her gown for the King's Ball and wedding. She still had three weeks and was pleased with the progress she'd made, but knew that as the time got closer she'd become busier, so wanted to get it out of the way. Finally, they were done.

"Let's go back to the inn we passed and eat, and then get back to the Keep," she said, yawning.

"You need a nap before we meet with the steward, I think," Alinor grinned.

"I don't have time for a nap," Sansa smiled. "I don't know why I'm so tired today, I slept well."

"Actually, my lady, perhaps we should skip the meal and return to the Keep," Ser Milton said. "That way you can rest."

Sansa shook her head. "No, I've promised to return. I'll be fine." She made to move towards her horse, but Ser Lothor stopped her.

"My lady, there's someone following us," he said quietly. "I'd prefer we return to the Keep."

"Are you sure it's not just one of the children, who's a little shy?" she asked. They were usually followed by a crowd of children, calling out to her and hoping for a treat or a few coins.

"Children don't wear swords beneath their cloaks," Ser Milton said grimly. "No, this is a young man, not much more than a boy. He's been trailing us for hours now."

"Perhaps he's looking for work," she said. She was approached regularly to ask for some way to earn their living. She'd put most to work assisting with the building projects, and others to various places in the Keep. She'd even had Tyrion send some to Casterly Rock for his staff, and two had been on the boat with Dany, going to Winterfell.

"Wearing a sword?" Alinor said skeptically.

Sansa sighed. "I'd really rather not," she said. "I have four guards, and all of you and Alinor are wearing your swords. And I'm wearing mine, and my daggers. I won't be taken easily. But if I'm going to get through the rest of this day, I need a hot meal." She yawned again.

"Lord Lannister will skin us all alive if anything happens to you," Ser Lothor sighed.

"Well that thought should keep you all on your toes," Sansa grinned, moving to mount her horse as the others followed. They were quiet and pensive as they made their way back to where they'd started and took a table in the back, at Ser Lothor's insistence. She usually preferred to be by the large window, but understood. He also had her sit with her back to the wall, and they all around her.

The innkeeper had just served them the delicious smelling stew and a loaf of fresh bread – still warm from the oven – when Ser Tomas stiffened slightly beside her. "He just walked in," he muttered around a mouthful of stew.

Sansa lifted her eyes as she raised her cup to smile at the innkeeper, then froze when she saw the young man standing at the bar, his hood pushed back. His brown hair was mussed, as if he'd run his fingers through it repeatedly. His gray eyes were firm on her face, a face that was familiar as her own.

She didn't realize she was standing until she pushed past her guards, moving quickly, stopping before him, her eyes searching his face. Hot tears filled her eyes. "Arya?" she whispered.

The grin was all the answer she needed, and she flung her arms around her sister with a cry of delight. "Arya!"

Eventually they were seated at the table, Sansa still crying happy tears. "I don't know why I can't stop crying," she smiled, wiping her face for the umpteenth time. "I'm so happy to see you!"

Arya grinned as she dipped her spoon into the bowl of stew. "You're such a girl," she teased.

Sansa laughed. "Stop pretending like you're a boy!"

"Being a boy is the only thing that's kept me alive," she said seriously. "No one was looking for Arrie Snow."

"Well there's no longer a bounty on your head, so you can resume being Lady Arya," Sansa said firmly.

Arya shrugged. "Maybe. I'm fine with Arrie, honestly."

Sansa sighed and shook her head. "Eat something, my lady," Alinor laughed. "I'm sure you and your sister will have plenty of time to talk."

Tyrion frowned thoughtfully at the letter in his hand. He hadn't expected to hear anything about the matter so soon – if at all – from Lord Manderly, but definitely not this.

Lord Lannister –

Caitlyn Stark arrived at my home last week, with a few men who called themselves her guard. She is drastically changed from the gentle lady that we both knew. Her son refused to so much as go near her, and his wolf growled so ferociously that the men drew weapons against it. Although she can no longer speak due to the wound on her throat, she whispers to one of the men who speaks for her. I did have an opportunity to tell her that Lady Sansa is alive and well, and living with you in King's Landing. She asked why I hadn't 'rescued' Lady Sansa from you, and made me promise that if young Bran is found that I will raise both of the boys personally, and keep them from you at all costs. To say that she was displeased with the news of your continuing marriage is an understatement. She is very different, Lord Tyrion, hard and cold and murderous. She disappeared from my home yesterday morning, she and her men. She didn't even say goodbye to the boy. I worry that they are heading to King's Landing.

There was more, about his want to foster Rickon with one of the Northern Lords instead of sending him to King's Landing as Tyrion had requested, and the continuing difficulties the North faced.

Tyrion dropped the letter with a sigh. He'd hoped that what Jamie and Brienne and Pod had told him wasn't true, and that Caitlyn Stark would still be the devoted mother that he remembered. But a near death experience – or actual death, if Jamie and Brienne were to be believed – had a way of changing people. Damn. If she were actually on her way to King's Landing…. he'd have to tell Sansa, he realized. He'd hoped to tell her that her mother was alive, but not like this. He didn't want to tell her that Lord Manderly had called her mother 'murderous' and that Rickon wouldn't go anywhere near her, and that even his direwolf wouldn't approach her. And not only that, but if they were heading to King's Landing, they'd probably arrived before the letter, which had taken at least two weeks. She could already be here. He called for a servant. "Has Lady Lannister returned from the city?"

"Not yet, my lord," the girl said.

"Let me know when she does, I need to speak with her. No," he said. "Tell Ser Lothor that I need to speak with him immediately when they return. I'll speak to my wife afterwards."

Sansa wouldn't see her own mother as a threat to her safety, but there was no doubt in Tyrion's mind that Caitlyn Stark would rather see Sansa dead than married to him. He'd have to persuade her somehow to stay in the Keep until he could locate them. That would be hard with her work in the city. He called for a servant again. "Send for Lord Varys, tell him I need to speak with him rather immediately."

Varys arrived first, in a cloud of his usual lavender scent, his face expertly powered. "You asked for me, my lord?"

"Yes," Tyrion said. "Tell me, did you hear of the tale my brother and Lady Brienne told of Caitlyn Stark?"

"I may have heard a passing whisper," he said demurely, waving a lacy fan before his face. "Walls have ears."

"I need you to know more than a passing whisper."

"Then it is fortunate that I do," he tittered.

"I've received word that Lady Caitlyn is on her way to King's Landing. It is entirely possible that she's already here."

"Oh my," Varys looked distressed, his eyes large, lying a white hand against his throat. "Oh, I'm certain that she's very distressed about your marriage."

"As am I," Tyrion said, his gaze steely. "And I am equally certain that she would rather see my lady wife dead before she allows her to remain Lady Tyrion Lannister."

"Oh!" Varys gasped softly, visibly shocked. "Oh, I'm sure she wouldn't."

"I'm sure she would. Varys, I need you to find out if Lady Caitlyn is in fact, in King's Landing. And I need it done quickly. I'm certain the King would not appreciate a threat to my lady wife's life."

"The King is certainly very fond of our Lady Sansa, is he not? Showering her with jewels and flowers. He is so generous with his affection. I agree, he would want her to be safe at all costs. I'm happy to look into it for you, my lord." Varys looked discreetly away, the gently moving fan once again hiding the lower half of his face.

Jewels? Flowers? Tyrion kept his gaze steady with an effort. "Thank you, my lord. I am in your debt."

Varys giggled delightedly. "No more than you already were, my lord," he said sweetly, as he rose from his chair. "This is just a small favor between friends, hmmm?"

"Yes," Tyrion murmured to his back. "A small favor between friends."

"Oh, Lord Tyrion," Varys turned suddenly before he reached the door, as if only just remembering something. "I've heard word of your brother, Lord Jamie. It seems that he has violated the King's exile order and is still in Dorne."

Tyrion frowned in earnest. "Still?" Jamie had planned to stay in Dorne for no more than a week or two. "Does the King know?"

"Not to my knowledge," Varys assured him. "It seems as though a maester there has convinced Lady Brienne that he can repair the damage to her," he patted his own flawless cheek gently. "And, I've also heard rumors that Prince Tristayne is very reluctant to allow Lady Myrcella to leave, despite her mother and brother's deaths."

Tyrion sighed. The King hadn't wanted to allow Jamie or Myrcella to live, and it had taken all of his considerable persuasive skills to keep them so. If he found out that Jamie had disobeyed him…. "Varys, my friend, I'm certain that as soon as Lady Brienne is fully healed they'll move on to Pentos, as they'd planned," Tyrion said with a small smile. "No need for the King to hear about this."

"Oh, none at all," Varys giggled. "Just a small favor between friends."

Tyrion watched him go. Small favors to Varys could easily be the death of him, but he literally owed the man his life. And what was this about the King giving Sansa flowers and jewels, he wondered? And why hadn't he heard anything about it? He stared at the door for a long moment before sliding out of his chair, heading determinedly towards their bedroom.