DISCLAIMER: Characters etc. belong to George RR Martin. No copyright infringement intended.
MELISANDRE
It had been far too difficult to convince Stannis that he must wait for the Stark girl to come to him. "She will approach you tomorrow, I swear it," Melisandre had insisted, yet still he had paced angrily and muttered about how he ought to order the girl to come to him immediately. "And surely she would obey," Melisandre smiled, "but it is not necessary. She will come to us tomorrow and that is for the best, Your Grace."
"Did you see it in the fires, then?" he had asked, and she knew that he was frustrated, even annoyed. Her ruby pulsed angrily at her throat and when she did not immediately respond, Stannis had uttered a low growl and flung himself into a chair. He had been silent for the remainder of the evening.
Of course she had been right. First thing the following morning they heard the raised voices of Sansa and the guards, then the sounds of the girl and her shield ascending the staircase. Melisandre had warned Stannis that the girl would bring Clegane with her; though the king was not pleased he bore the news better than she expected. This part of it, at least, Melisandre mused.
When Devan left the four of them alone, Stannis leveled his eyes on Sandor Clegane for a long moment. His jaw was tense and for a moment Melisandre wondered if she had been wrong, if he would put forth some sort of protest about Sandor's being there - but then the king seemed to think better of it and gestured for Sansa to sit by the fire with him. "You are the lady of Winterfell now," he said bluntly, tall and stiff in his chair. The Stark girl merely nodded, but Melisandre could see that she was taking stock of Stannis as she looked at him. The King asked, "How do you plan to take it?"
"I...I was hoping that you would help me with that, my lo - I mean, Your Grace." Melisandre cocked an eyebrow - so the Stark girl was that brave, that forward. Stannis grumbled under his breath for a moment before looking to Melisandre. She inclined her head just slightly. She had not yet told him what she had seen in her fires; futures seen in flames could sometimes be changed, after all.
"I would require your allegiance, at the very least. You will bow the knee to me, renounce Cersei Lannister's bastard children. As for your marriage to Tyrion Lannister...Lady Melisandre has told me that she is sure you are a maid. If this is true you must prove it, immediately. There are no septas here; Septon Cellador and Melisandre can see to it. Once we are sure we will annul your marriage in the sept, in front of witnesses and by right of the Seven and the Lord of Light...just to be sure that all understand it is a void contract."
Too blunt, Melisandre thought. Even she knew not to speak of a woman's maidenhead so. But Sansa Stark seemed eager enough to deal with the humiliation of having her virginity ascertained - and why not, if it meant having her marriage to that monster annulled? "I will gladly bow the knee to you, Your Grace. The Lannisters - all of them - have been nothing but a bane on my existence. And I have nothing to hide in regards to my forced and unconsummated marriage to Tyrion."
"Good. For if you are to have Winterfell, I mean for you to take a wildling king or prince as your lord husband. We have pardoned these people and they are to be allowed to live on this side of the Wall, but a marriage between a Stark of Winterfell and a leader of the wildlings will do much toward setting the people of the North at ease in regards to this pact." Melisandre watched the Stark girl carefully; she visibly blanched at the mention of her marrying, but Melisandre did not think it had much to do with the idea of the man being a wildling. Sandor Clegane's face remained impassive, but his shoulders had tensed perceptibly.
The girl's voice was quiet but firm when she finally spoke. "I apologize, my lord, but that I cannot do."
Melisandre saw Stannis set his jaw and narrow his eyes at Sansa Stark, but before he could speak she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Lady Stark," she said, "the use of King Stannis's troops is likely the only way you will be able to return to your ancestral home. This is not a small thing he asks of you, I know, but I assure you we will find a man who pleases you. We will not force you to marry a wildling of our choosing."
But when Sansa looked up at her Melisandre knew that this argument had already been lost. Despite the courteous mask the girl had drawn down over her face, her blue eyes were cold as ice as she replied, "I thank you for that consideration, my lady, but my answer is still no. I was betrothed to Joffrey Baratheon and for a time that made me the happiest girl in the world. Only he turned out to be horrible, and until Margaery Tyrell came along I thought I would be stuck with him forever. And then his family forced the Imp on me. Though thankfully that did not go as badly as it could have, I am done with having my husbands chosen for me. If I ever marry, I will choose the man myself - and as Lady of Winterfell, I should have no problem finding plenty of suitors, I'm sure."
Curious, speculated Melisandre. Though the girl was balking the idea of wedding a wildling merely to please Stannis, she was also not specifying whom she might marry instead. Yet what the Lord of Light had shown her in the flames was burned into her mind...
"We are done here - for now," Stannis barked. "Melisandre, take the girl to her chambers and send for Septon Cellador. We will determine her status-" he spat that word out as if it left a bad taste in his mouth "- and give her time to ruminate over my terms." When he stood Sansa stood as well, bending in a curtsy before hurrying out the door with Clegane at her heels. Melisandre hastened to follow, pausing only to reassure Stannis.
"This will all end as R'hllor wills, my king. I swear to you."
"And if the Lord of Light and I do not wish for the same outcome?" Stannis challenged. Melisandre held his eyes for a long moment, feeling the ruby at her throat go hot as it pulsed faster and faster. Stannis broke his gaze first and Melisandre swept from the room, catching up with Sansa Stark and Sandor Clegane just in time to hear him speak to her.
"You've not broken your fast, girl. Should you not eat before letting these buggering fools poke and prod at you?"
"What does it matter? Or do you just not want to be proven wrong?" the girl snapped, without even looking at Clegane. Melisandre stepped up beside them.
"If you do not mind, ser, you could find Septon Cellador and bring him to your lady's chambers. And some food and mulled wine as well, I think."
Clegane glared down at Melisandre, but before he could say anything the girl said, "Yes, Sandor, please bring us some food and wine and the Septon. I would prefer to finish this business as soon as possible." The man looked from Melisandre to Sansa Stark and back again, but finally stomped off toward the sept. The girl continued walking toward Hardin's Tower, a determined expression settling over her features. "I would have Sandor in the room with us while the examination is being performed," she stated.
"My lady, do you really think that is best? Perhaps Jon Snow would be the proper choice; he is your relation, after all."
"I do not care for what is proper. Sandor is my sworn shield and I will have him present. Though if Jon were there as well, as my brother, there should be even less reason for anyone to argue the results."
Ah, so that discussion has occurred, then, Melisandre realized. Just two days ago Sansa Stark had insisted that Sandor Clegane was nothing but a temporary protector or guard, yet now he was officially her sworn shield? Still, it seemed a bit much to have him in the room while she was examined. Unless...
No, that could not be. The Septon would - he must - find the girl's maidenhead still intact. If he did not, an immediate annulment of her marriage to the Lannister dwarf would be impossible - Winterfell would be as much his as it was hers. And yet, Melisandre told herself, what I saw in the flames could still come to be...