"Meera and Jojen arrive mid next week."

"Urgh."

"Shireen arrives not long after them."

"Urgghh."

"There is still no word from the Lannisters."

"Arrghhh!"

He bit back a smirk as he watched Arya tangle herself up in the furs on the bed. Brown hair and half an arm were the only visible parts of her.

"And you will have to make my bed after you are done doing whatever it is you happen to be doing."

"Aahh-urrgghhh."

The way she was wiggling and rolling around made him almost certain that she was going to collide with the floor at some point. The mischievous side of him hoped it was soon, it would be another hilarious story he could bring up at random moments to tease her.

"I dun wan gus's"

"What?" he chuckled, leaning forward from where he was sat on the window sill.

Arya's face briefly appeared so that she could glare across at him. "I don't want guests. They take up space and eat our food, and I have to dress like a lady and act like a lady. I hate it."

He could not stop the laugh that erupted from his chest. Ignoring the glare from his sister he leaned against the wall that supported the glass window. "Arya, I doubt you will do either of those things. Mother says that because they will be living with us we can be ourselves. So long as we are being ourselves while being on our best behaviour."

"Urrghh." She flopped over and a half scream bounced off the mattress. "I hate being on my best behaviour."

"Well, you are already doing better than Rickon. No one has seen him, Shaggydog or Lady since yesterday."

At that, his sister sat up and frowned. Hair flying in every direction, she locked her gaze on him. "Lady went as well? Seriously? She never leaves the Keep."

With a shrug, he turned to gaze out of the window. Rickon vanished not long after mother told them that with three others being fostered in the Keep, they had no choice but to be on their best behaviour and Shaggydog would have to become accustom to being locked up. Rickon had argued that Shaggydog cannot be locked away because he destroys everything until he breaks free; to which their mother had chided Rickon for not training to Direwolf efficiently.

That did not go down well.

"Well, no one has seen her, so I expect she is with Rickon."

Arya gave a low whistle. "Damn." Flopping back down, a sigh escaped her lips. "I hate that he gets to run off whenever. Last time I tried that Jory tracked me with a search part and I was banned from leaving the Keep for two moons."

"Father wants him reigned in; says that because I wish to join the Kingsguard they need Rickon to be prepared for the possibility of becoming the lord of a keep."

A snort erupted from Arya and he turned to meet her gaze. "Can you imagine? Lord Rickon Stark."

"He is already Lord Rickon Stark." He teased, knowing full well what his sister meant.

Rolling her eyes, she propped up on her shoulders. "A lady wife and children." A devious grin spread across her face. "In the south."

After a beat, they both collapsed into fits of laughter at the same time. It was easy to imagine Rickon as a Lord of a Keep and it was to imagine Arya as some High Lords lady wife. Rickon and Arya got each other out of their lessons and would run around the Wolfswood with their Direwolves, or prank Theon and Robb. Neither of them had an interest in the life of a Lord or Lady, and Bran was certain if it was not for Arya's position she would run away far more often and for far longer than Rickon did.

"When do you think he will be back?"

With another shrug, he stood up. "After all our guests have arrived. You know how he hates all that attention."

Walking over to his bed, he gave a sigh as he grasped hold of the furs. Taking in a deep breath, he grinned at his sister before using all his weight to haul the furs off of his bed. With a shocked cry, Arya tumbled off of his bed, pale hands clutching at the furs.

"Bran." Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she stared at him. It took everything he had not to laugh, containing his laughter to a mere smirk was more effort than he wished to put in. "I screamed." The seriousness on his sisters face caused the laughter to tumble from his lips and he bent over, arms wrapped around his stomach.


Sat with Rhaenys, she felt a little lighter than she had in the past few days. It was just the two of them as the older girl gushed over the wedding dress that was being made for her.

"Uncle Oberyn hired a Dornish seamstress, convinced that there could be no finer dress made for me than a dress made out of Dornish silk."

A small laugh slid past Sansa's own lips. "I believe that he believes there is nothing better out with Dorne."

Rhaenys gave a nod. "Dorne is certainly a wonderful place, and I can understand why he feels that way."

"It certainly sounds wonderful, and your cousins are lovely. Intimidating, but lovely."

With a laugh, Rhaeyns filled her glass. "Mayhaps we should arrange a trip. You would get to meet the rest of the Dornish side of the family."

In that moment, she was reminded of Dany's drunken suggestion that they run away and travel the world. An idea she became less opposed to by the day. Travelling the world sounded like a wonderful experience, and she was certain Arya would love to join them. The younger girl did not want the life of a lady, and Sansa would not hesitate in asking her sister to runaway with them.

"I would li-"

A knock at the door cut her off, and she watched as Rhaenys went to get the door. Sipping at her wine, she was almost surprised to see Tyrion, Jon and Aegon there.

"May we enter?" Tyrion was staring up at Rhaenys, and if Sansa did not know better, she would say the man was nervous.

"Of course." Rhaenys moved out of the way a smile etched onto her face, yet it did not reach her eyes.

Walking over, Tyrion perched himself on a seat. "There is something I must discuss with you, Lady Sansa, and I thought you might wish for your cousin and his siblings to be present when I brought it up."

"What is the matter?" Sansa asked, fiddling with the stem of the glass she held.

Taking in a deep breath, Tyrion laced his fingers together. "My father received a raven from Lord Eddard Stark a few days ago. Your father wishes to end your betrothal to Joffrey."

"What?" The word was no more than a breath as it slipped past her lips, excitement bubbling in her chest.

"Hmm. Yes." Tyrions expression was twisted and he looked as if he was struggling with saying what he wanted to; her excitement began to squash before it had a chance to fully bloom. "My father has yet to reply to yours, and has decided that he will have you married. You have perhaps a week at the most."

What was she supposed to think? To feel? Her father had requested her betrothal to Joffrey to be ended, and yet she was to be married anyway. Lord Tywin would force her to be wed without her parents consent.

"Tywin cannot do that." Rhaenys hissed. "Lord Eddard broke the betrothal, Sansa is free to marry someone else."

"Yes." Tyrion coughed. "That is what my father said. Since her betrothal to Joffrey is broken, my father will have her married to myself instead."

As much as she cared for Tyrion, never could she imagine them wed. They were friends; or at least she believed them to be. They poked fun at his family and insulted Joffrey. Sometimes he even allowed her to drink more wine than a lady should. They laughed together and he stood by her as best he could – but they were friends. To be wed to the Lannister family was not what she had ever wanted for herself. It was bad enough to have initially been betrothed to a Lannister with the Baratheon name; to carry the name Lannister would haunt her until the day she died.

"He cannot do that!" Rhaenys' hands were curled into fists and she began pacing. "It was bad enough that he ask Sansa to spy on us, but no-"

"I'm sorry; but what? He asked Sansa to do what?"

Shame crept up her face, burning her cheeks. Despite Aegon having suggested she talk to Tyrion about what his family wanted from her, she had never quite grasped the courage to do so. Three pairs of eyes were locked on her, while Rhaenys was staring at Tyrion.

"Your father asked dear Sansa to collect information on myself, Aegon and the rest of our family and relay that information back to himself and Cersei."

Tyrion turned to look at Rhaenys. "My Lady, I swear that I did not know of this. My father has always been a schemer, but that is not something I take part in. I have done all I can to avoid the path he is treading."

"I believe you." Her lips pressed into a hard line. "Do not make me regret that. Out of your family, you are the only likeable member. You have cared for and protected Sansa, stood by her when you had no reason or need to. It was out of kindness, and that is much appreciated. Once again, you have proven your loyalty as her friend and come to warn her – and by extension, us – of what your father plans. We are in your debt. You have given us enough time to try and aid Sansa before her life is set in stone."

"What can we do?" Sansa asked, feeling defeated, despite the determination on Rhaenys face.

"We could have you sent home." Rhaenys stated, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "There is no official betrothal, you are free to do as you wish. We could arrange for a few men to escort you north. Send a raven telling your father to send men to meet you at the Neck?"

"Tywin would expect that. The moment Sansa goes missing, ravens will be sent out and Lannister men will ride out from Casterly Rock to intercept." Jon stated, his voice low, as if he was trying to keep himself calm and close to failing.

"Travel south then." Aegon stated, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "Uncle Oberyn and Arianne are travelling home in a few days, they could take Sansa with them. We could send a raven north to explain the situation to Lord Eddard, and from Dorne they could then have a ship ready to take Sansa up to Widow's Watch."

"Because that is not risky in the slightest." Jon hissed. "Sending her the length of the Seven Kingdoms with a few men? Who we know will not travel all the way up to Widows Watch."

"We could have Dany and Viserys escort her. It would delay their trip to Braavos, but-"

"No." Jon cut his brother off. "I will escort her."

Aegon bit down on his lip, and Sansa stared at her cousin, her jaw threatening to drop.


"Stop that." He hissed as they moved through the town.

With a simple shrug, she slowed her pace so she was walking alongside him. It was rare either of them went to Winter Town, and even rarer that they went without Robb. But their elder brother was in the training yard with Theon, and neither of them could be bothered dealing with that mess. He loved his brother, and Theon could be great, but he was also an ass that he sometimes just did not wish to be around.

"Robb said there was a new blacksmith." Arya revealed. "If I try now, before he realises who I am, I could persuade him to make me a sword."

Rolling his eyes, he simply followed his sisters lead. It would not be the first time he had watched his sister attempt to get a blacksmith to make her a sword and he doubted it would be his last. She was adamant on acquiring one, and no matter how often she had asked Robb or Theon to buy her one, they had always refused.

Grabbing his wrist, she dragged him to the smiths, where a young man appeared to be working. A part of Bran felt that there was something familiar to the young smithy, but he could not place the hows or whys.

"Hello!" Arya yelled over the noise of clashing metal, and the young man ceased his actions.

Putting the hammer down, he wiped his hands on his trousers before walking over to them. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yeah. I was wondering if you could make me a sword?" Letting go of his wrist, Arya folded her arms. As an after thought, she added. "Please?"

"You want a sword? What for?"

With an indignant huff, her stance became tighter as she raised a brow. "So my brother will stop yelling every time I steal his."

Despite the fact she was referring to the multiple incidents with Robb, he had done this often enough that he knew he was pretending to be the brother she was talking about. 'They won't sell to Lady Arya Stark, Bran.' It had never worked, because everyone always knew that they were Arya and Bran Stark. No matter what his sister thought, her attempt at disguises never worked. Not when she looked as Stark as their father and he looked as Tully as their mother.

"She really does need her own sword." Bran stated, with a resigned sigh. "More to get her to shut up than anything else."

"Ladies don't use swords." The smithy eyed her carefully.

With a snort, his sister met the young mans eyes. "I am not a lady."

"You sure. 'Cause your brother looks an awful lot like Lord Robb."

With a huff of air, Arya's burning gaze was back on him. "I told you. Even he thinks you look like Lord Robb." Within a second she was closer to the smithy. "He says they don't look remotely alike, but everyone else thinks otherwise. Mayhaps he is secretly a lords son." With a shrug, let her arms drop down to her sides. "Now, can you make me a sword or not?"

"Sorry, milady." A smirk tugged at the young mans lips. "I was told if a bossy young lady came in with her brother, it would be in my better interests not to make her a sword."

A grin stretched across Bran's face as a laugh slid past his lips. "Robb warned him." Another laugh, and he leaned over slightly, ignoring the glare Arya was sending him.

"I cannot believe him." She hissed. "Telling me there is a new smithy just to ruin my day."

"Yeah, he came by on my second day here to discuss it with me."

Tears burned Brans eyes, as he tried to control his laughter. Watching the almost infuriated look that flittered across his sisters face made getting out of his bed so early entirely worth it.

"How long have you been working here?" Arya pressed.

"A week now, m'lady."

"Where are you from?" Bran asked, curious. The man quite clearly had a tan, and his accent was definitely not of the north.

"The Stormlands, m'lord."

With a nod, his curiosity grew. "What brings you north then? If you don't mind me asking?"

"I was sold my my previous boss to the Watch."

A scoff slid past Arya's lips. "In case you have yet to notice, this isn't the Wall."

The young mans eyes locked on Arya, his lips twitching upwards ever so slightly. "I did notice, actually."

"So what are you doing here then?"

Sometimes, he felt that Arya pushed her limits a little to much. She cared far to little about what was and was not acceptable. All but demanding a strangers life story was hardly proper, polite or even really acceptable – not that he would ever utter such a thing out loud.

"Lannister men killed the man escorting us north, and the rest of us scattered. A friend and I decided to try and forge lives for ourselves here, rather than spending the rest of our lives freezing on the Wall and killing Wildlings. I was sold to the Watch, it wasn't the life I wanted for myself."

Before Arya could respond, Bran cut across her. "Sorry, but- Lannister men. They killed a man of the Nights Watch?"

"And a number of men being escorted to the Wall, yes."

Looking at Arya, he grabbed her arm. "We should go and tell father. He ought to know; he can write to the Watch to inform them, and perhaps he could inform the King."

"What?" She was looking at him as if he was crazy. "The Watch is apart from the Seven Kingdoms-"

"Exactly! What gives Lannisters the right to attack men of the Watch and those who are set to take the Black? We have heard nothing back regarding Sansa and her return, and we now know that they have openly attacked the Watch. Father will want to know, he could write the king."

A small cough came from the smith, and Bran turned to meet his shocking blue eyes. "M'lord, I have more information regarding the Lannisters if you wish to hear it. I do not know how real the rumours are, but a friend and I heard a great deal while travelling. I haven't put much stock into it, but if you want-"

"Tell us."


"Without Sansa, we do not have someone on the inside."

With a dry laugh, Rhaenys does not look at him when she responds. "We have Tyrion."

With a scoff, he takes a drink of ale. "Oh yes, because Tywin will believe that his son has changed his mind over night and decided to jump on the 'lets destroy the Targaryens' ship."

A real laugh slid past his sisters lips and she turns to look at him, eyes dancing in the dull light. "We do not need some one on the inside to win. The Lannisters are playing a dangerous game, we have known that for years. Never would they have kept Sansa for so long unless they needed her. After Robert died there was nothing keeping Sansa tied to that betrothal – Cersei despises the Starks and anything Northern. Why would she have kept the betrothal unless it was of value to her?"

It was something Rhaenys had mentioned to him previously. The Lannisters had always been tricky, and the more money they spent with no evidence of what the money had been spent on, he and Rhaenys had began investigating. The Seven Kingdoms would be theirs one day, it was their duty to make sure things ran as smoothly and peacefully as possible.

"And you? Do you have need of Sansa?"

She tensed, eyes narrowing. "All I need of Sansa is for her to be safe and as far away from here as possible."

With a nod, he gazed back at the fire. It was unnecessary in the southron heat, but always a comfort. "For a while I was unconvinced by your motives, you know. I thought that perhaps, you thought that by having her around you could suss out what the Lannisters were trying to do. Even Dany was sceptical."

Keeping his gaze on the fire, he refused to turn to meet Rhaenys gaze. The mix of hurt and disapproval was radiating off of her and he refused to feel guilty about his assumptions.

"I cannot imagine how lonely she must have been at Casterly Rock. Can you? Surrounded by a family that did nothing but plot and scheme and insult you? It was an unhealthy environment, one she had to be removed from. I did not lie. Not once. I wanted her as a friend."

"But?"

"There is no but. At first I thought that maybe the Lannisters would use her to convince the Starks to fight for them – I truly believe that they believe that tactic would work. They forget what the Starks are – wolves in the bodies of men. A pack. You take one of them, use them as bait and you would have an army at your door. The Lannisters would be fighting a war on two fronts. The war they waged on the Targaryens, and the war they inadvertently would start with the Starks. They would not stop fighting until they got Sansa back." A soft smile was painted onto his sisters face, and he watched her carefully. "Knowing that meant that there was really nothing I could do but befriend a lonely girl who needed a friend in this world. A pawn in a game she does not belong in."

"You never cease to amaze me, Rhaenys."

With a laugh, she turns back to her sewing. "People need to learn that not everything I do is a double edged sword."

With a nod, he settled back in his seat, sprawling out. The fact that he had doubted her honest intentions makes him feel guilty. As her brother and betrothed he should have more faith in her intentions, but with how wary they were about the Lannisters it only made sense to ask. He would have doubted himself as well.

"Who do yo-"

"The Tyrell's shall take the Lannister side." Rhaenys nodded to herself. "There is no doubt about that."

Frowning, he looked at his sister. "They will take Jons disappearance as a slight." With another sip of his ale, he bit down on the inside of his lip. "Pushing them towards the Lannisters. If I was Mace I would offer Margaery – Cersei would be a fool not to accept. The loyalty of House Arryn and House Fray cannot be guaranteed, and with Dany and Viserys going off to Essos we cannot offer betrothals to secure loyalties."

"We cannot count on House Baratheon either. Neither Stannis or Renly have much love for us."

"Renly is yet to wed, and lives in a small keep. He is hardly a threat."

Letting her things slide to the floor, Rhaenys turns completely to face him. "That 'hardly a threat' is impeccably loyal to the Tyrells. What has father always said about underestimating others. Look at Baelish."

His lips curved upwards into a snarl as the thought of the sly, slimy man entered his mind. "I would rather not."

"My point is, Renly could make something of himself. We cannot afford to underestimate him. Despite Stannis currently acting Lord of Storms End, there are those who might choose to side with Renly if Stannis refuses to enter the fray."

"And if he does enter the fray, there is no guarantee it will be on our side either."

"No." Rhaenys sighed. "So far the only loyalty we can guarantee is the Martells."

Aegon raised a brow as he met her eyes. "What about the Starks? They would never side with the Lannisters."

With a sigh and a laugh, she ran a hand through her hair. "The Starks will not fight unless they have to. If you were that far north, and were requested to travel this far south to fight in a war, would you?"

With a sigh, he questioned once again, why it was he who was heir to the Iron Throne and not his sister.


"WHAT?" The scream echoed throughout the room, and it took him all he could to not sink to the petulant monsters level.

"Sansa Stark will be wed to Tyrion and not you."

Perhaps leaving such information to such a late time was bad planning, but Cersei had no control of the boy and he wanted to inform him as close to the wedding as possible to put a stop to any rash actions. Having the girl named a Lannister would be a far more painful blow to the Starks and would be more likely to guarantee their loyalty. If the girl married Joffrey, they would be less likely to side with them in the coming war.

"But my father and Lord Stark agreed that Sansa would be wed to me."

"Well-" He started, trying not to display his complete disdain for the boy on his face. "Since your father is dead, and Lord Stark has called off the betrothal, I think you will find that what you have just said was a complete waste of your breath and my time."

The look on Joffreys face almost made him want to smile. Almost.

"I may dislike Tyrion, but I do not doubt that he will make a far better husband to Sansa than you will. You are not to approach the Stark girl before the wedding, and if you do or say anything that causes any kind of scene I will personally see to your punishment. Do you understand me?"

"Yes grandfather."

"Good. Now fetch me my son."


With a start, she woke to feeling something wet on her face. Bright red eyes met her own, and it took her a moment to realise that it was ghost staring at her.

"My lady." The quiet voice reached her ears, causing her to sit up and look around the dark room.

He was nought more than a shadow in the darkness. Dressed as black as night, even his eyes were barely visible in the low light. He was much closer to her than expected, stood by the edge of her bed, worry barely noticeable on his face in the darkness.

"My uncle suggested we depart a few hours before they do and meet them at an inn. So that we do not draw any attention."

A smile tugged at her lips. "Some in the north might call this stealing."

"What?"

"It is a wildling tradition." Her smile grows a little. "If a man wants a woman, he steals her away under the cover of night."

If it was light, she might be bold enough to presume that the change of colour in Jons face was caused by a rush of blood to his cheeks. But it was dark, and so it could simply be the shadows.

"D- do you want to be stolen?"

"That depends." She states as she slides out of bed; the things she is taking with her are already packed, she simply has to change into her dress. "Are you stealing me?"

As she grabs her dress, she turns to meet Jons eyes, finding them despite how dark it is.

"Yes."

Nodding, she goes to change behind the folding screen in the corner of the room. Hurrying as so not to waste a single moment. Pulling on her boots, she stepped out to collect her things to find Jon already had them.

Without saying a word, he lead her out the chambers and throughout the halls and passages of the Red Keep, careful to avoid any of the Kingsguard that roamed the halls.

Her heart was in her chest, and the only thing that soothed her was the feeling of Ghosts fur tangled through her fingers. Running away had never been something she had done. Even Robb had ran off as a child, their father went spare panicking over where his heir had gone. Arya had ran off a few times, a habit that was squashed before she could attempt it a fifth time. Bran disappeared occasionally, something he often only did when he was told he had to do something he was one hundred percent against. Oftimes he would vanish with Rickon; who for a few years seemed to disappear entirely, reappearing at random moments before disappearing into thin air again. Yet, last she had heard, even Rickon was growing out of the habit, and had vanished only twice since she left for Casterly Rock; and that was only for a fortnight each time.

Approaching the horses that were already prepared, the nerves increased. A part of her wondered if her father would be furious or proud. She had sent a raven explaining the situation. Telling him how the Lannisters would not let her go, and how Jon had promised to escort her home. Hopefully father would understand.

"Jon. Sansa."

Turning, relief flooded through her as a pair of arms threw themselves around her shoulders. "I am going to miss you."

Returning the embrace as firmly as she could, Sansa let herself be consumed. "I will write you when I can, Rhaenys. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New."

"I shall hold you to it." The older girl released her before all but tackling her brother. "Take care of her, and just as importantly, take care of yourself Jon."

"I will, sweet sister. I will."

Soon another pair of arms wrapped around her, taking her off guard. "What? Think you could run off without saying goodbye to your future King?" A laugh slid past Aegons lips, and her heard squeezed.

She was going to miss the Targaryens with all her heart.

"I shall miss you too."

"Good. Though I expect we will see you again one day."

"I hope so."

"As do I!" It was Dany whose voice joined them. A second pair of arms wrapping around Sansa's torso. "You will keep my nephew safe, will you not?"

With a laugh, she nodded. "Of course I shall. And you shall take care in Essos, yes? I hope to hear all about your trip!"

It was tearful, saying goodbye to the family who had done so much for her. Who had allowed her to befriend them, and had befriended her in return. It was almost as hard to leave them as it had been to leave Winterfell. But she had the Lannisters to escape and a family to return to.

"Are you ready, my lady?" Jon asked, voice cutting through the thick air.

"As ready as I will ever be." She smiled at him, wondering if her nerves were noticeable. "Are you?"

"Of course."

"And-" She gulped, fiddling with the horses reigns. "And if they start a war?"

A sardonic smile formed on his face. "It's what Targaryen princes do. Start wars over Stark girls." Running a hand through his hair, he met her gaze evenly. "If you do not wish to-"

"It's what Stark girls do, Jon."

And she nudged her horse onwards.