"Save us, oh great dragon queen! Save us from tyranny and doom and flayings-"
"Oh, hush," Sansa swatted her sister with a pillow from the bed and Arya play-acted at being mortally wounded for her brother. Rickon laughed from under the furs and Shaggydog raised his great head from where he lay inside the door of Sansa's chamber.
"Do you think it worked?" Arya asked flatly as he stared up at the ceiling from where she was sprawled across the foot of Sansa and Sandor's bed. Since he had left with the army, both Arya and Rickon had stayed with Sansa.
Sansa pulled the pillow back and hugged it to her midsection as she stared into the hearth fire. "I cannot say, Arya; but I had to try. Missandei said she had freed slaves in Essos. Breaker of shackles she styles herself: am I wrong to hope that she has within her some sense of justice and even compassion? If she wished to make life better for men in Essos than I do not see why would she not wish to do so in Westeros. I pray that I am not wrong, that she is not hard and vengeful-" Sansa paused.
"Like me, you mean?" Arya stated and looked over at her sister.
Sansa smiled faintly at her sister. "…as Sandor was," she finished softly.
"Or as Stannis will be if he finds out you've pledged fealty to another claimant," Arya suggested now. "The Northerners backed Stannis for restoring house Glover and then Rickon to Winterfell. They say his red woman sent a shadow demon to kill Renly, though some blamed mother and that lady knight-"
"And so I must choose between demons or dragons?" Sansa countered, almost bitterly. "I wish they would simply leave us alone. I wish-" she stopped herself now. Sansa had wished for many things in life and had been sorely disappointed. She did not want to tempt the gods with wishes again. "I must choose who will be best for the North, and the Starks," she explained. "I am not ungrateful to Lord Stannis; but even Tohrren Stark bowed to dragons, Arya."
"Stannis did not ask for a hostage, did he?" Arya asked.
Sansa turned back to look at her sister. "Rickon was the only Stark in Winterfell then; and Sandor felt certain that he would want to wed me to one of his own men if they were to return. Women are often pawns in the game, Arya; precious few are players. Daenerys Targaryen is a player because she has dragons; even the fealty of a man such as Ser Barristan would not be enough to win her a throne. Besides," she added reluctantly, "the Starks never rebelled against the Baratheons… and I have not pledged my fealty to the dragon queen, not yet."
Arya was silent a moment. "Sansa, if Stannis returns you can always tell him that you pledged fealty to keep me safe-"
Sansa shook her head resolutely. "If I cross Daenerys, Arya, what do you think she will do to you? I won't risk your life by playing one against the other, not when I'm the one with something to lose."
"Stannis will expect a woman to be weak, Sansa; he won't punish you."
"Joffrey had his Kingsguard punish me for less," Sansa replied swiftly. "Stannis may punish me, Rickon, even Sandor if he chooses, for leaving the Kingsguard. I must choose one, Arya: it is the right thing, the honourable thing. It is what father would have done, and he would have suffered the consequences, as will I."
Arya reached over and took Sansa's hand and looked her hard in the eyes. "You're with child, Sansa; and Rickon is heir to Winterfell; you must put yourselves before me."
Sansa recoiled, pulling her hand away, but Arya held it fast. "Promise me, Sansa," she insisted. "You know that I may be dead already if I'm found. Death comes for everyone Sansa but I want you to tell Death not today; for you and your baby and for Rickon."
Sansa hesitated. "I can't, Arya; I'm a terrible liar. I-"
"Ask Sandor then, ask him to do it. He'll tell you I'm right, I know he will. Him and our great-uncle: they'll say that you were scared and made a mistake…he'll believe them."
"I am the Warden of the North, Arya: right or wrong," Sansa insisted.
"Our father was honest and honourable, Sansa; and our father died for it," Arya was still holding her gaze.
Sansa looked away. "I know," was all she replied.
…..
Later that night, as Rickon and Arya slept curled up together on Sandor's side of their bed, Sansa turned her back to them, unable to sleep, and thought of Sandor. She missed him horribly, and wished he were with her. She traced her fingertips over the furs in slow circles, as she did over the dark hair on his chest and down his belly. She pressed her legs together to try to suppress her yearning for him, grown stronger with his absence and with his child inside her. She wished nothing more than to be spread out beneath him, feeling his body pressing into hers as she wrapped her limbs around him and breathed in the scent of his skin and hair. She dreamed of hearing his raspy voice murmur endearments or chuckle softy at her. Sansa blushed to remember how he sometimes laughed at her for being with him, for wanting him: Lord Eddard Stark's daughter bedding a dog. She had felt hurt the first time, to hear him still call himself a dog and to doubt that she loved him; but then she realized it was not her that he doubted, but himself.
I love you, Sandor; I miss you. Come back to me and our child.
If only they could have a peaceful, long life together so that she could give him more children, then mayhaps he would come to realize how worthy he was of having love and happiness, even from a high-born girl such as herself. The rage that had driven the Hound had died on the Quiet Isle but the lifetime's worth of feeling unworthy of anything but fear or pity was going to take longer to die out. Sansa was willing, happy even to give him time and spend her days and nights reassuring him; if only these wars would end and they could live without fear of reprisals for their supposed crimes which they had never committed. And she could be free of Tyrion Lannister, and no longer be a lion even if it were in name only.
Fretting did her little good, nor did her need for the chamber pot after partaking of Daenerys Targaryen's wine. Maege Mormont had warned her of this unpleasant aspect of pregnancy so that she would not be concerned when it befell her. Giving up on sleep, she donned a gown and cloak over her nightdress and left her chambers for the outer walls as she had so often since her army had left for Hornwood. As always, she greeted the soldiers standing guard, this time thanking each of them for staying in Winterfell and protecting her and her family. She knew that some would have wanted to march off and have the chance to distinguish themselves in battle; others were likely relieved not to have to fight or lay siege in winter. Still, she counted on them and so she unreservedly praised them all.
She came to stop over the Eastern gate to stare off in the direction of Hornwood and the Dreadfort. Sansa knew it was futile to stand there watching as though she may see something, some sign or reassurance and yet stare she did, for lack of any other comfort. She thought mayhap she would be better off in the Godswood, praying; but then remembered all her prayers in King's Landing and how they had been for naught. Please, no more losses, I could not bear it… Unwittingly tears welled up in her eyes but she wiped them away. Tears had never helped her before either.
She jumped now to hear a harsh call in an unknown language and to see one of the Targaryen's Dothraki men approach her on the wall. He stopped a respectful distance though, and nodded to her, his darker skin and dark, almond-shaped eyes incongruous in heavy furs and with his breath icing in the cold morning air. Behind him, the young dragon queen approached Sansa. Daenerys Targaryen was also wrapped in silver and white furs with her hood raised over her pale blonde hair. Sansa bowed her head and curtseyed.
"Your Grace," she greeted her. "I pray you that slept well. May I be of assistance to you this morning?"
The girl ignored her question and asked her own. "What brings you up to your walls so early, my lady? Are you expecting riders?"
"No, your Grace; I often walk the walls when I cannot sleep or when I must make important decisions. Seeing my father's lands always reminds me of his honour and hard work, and of my duty to the North. So long as I have this, I cannot fail to do what is right."
Daenerys Targaryen gave her a knowing smile. "You are deciding if you can trust me and if you pledge your featly to me," she noted. "And I am trying to decide if I can trust you and accept your fealty without more assurances. Tell me, my lady: how are we to resolve our mutual indecision?"
Sansa looked at her a long time before shaking her head. "I know not, your Grace. I confess I am tired of games, of duplicity and of death. My sister reminded me last night how our father's honesty and honour did not stop his enemies from taking his head; and yet I know no other way to conduct myself but by this teachings and example. I pray you ask me anything that may put your doubts at rest, and I will give you an honest answer."
The Targaryen stared back at her for some time before choosing her question. "Tell me how you returned to Winterfell. You said this man Littlefinger rescued you from King's Landing and meant to marry you off for an alliance; how is it he let you leave then?"
Sansa swallowed and looked back over the wall before replying. "He didn't, your Grace," she told her quietly.
"You promised me the truth, my lady," Daenerys Targaryen reminded her.
Sansa nodded slowly before beginning again. "He- Lord Baelish arranged for me to wed a young man: Harold Harding, who has to be heir to the Eyrie if Robin Arryn should have died. I don't know how he managed the betrothal, given that the Hardings believed that I was his bastard daughter; but he meant for me to reveal my true identity on my wedding day." She looked down now. "But there was an unforeseen impediment in that Lord Tyrion escaped from King's Landing and so I was not widowed as Lord Baelish expected and so not free to marry as Sansa Stark of Winterfell."
"And what of Sandor Clegane?"
Sansa shook her head again. "In truth, your Grace, I knew not if he lived or had died. And he could not have found me in the Eyrie, disguised as I was as Alayne Stone."
"And was Littlefinger angry with you that his plans were thwarted? Did he cast you out?"
"No, your Grace. I think he was pleased," Sansa could not look at her. "He- Harold Harding had taken a liking to me, and he praised me for it, thinking I had worked some seduction with him…but the boy simply liked me. He was even respectful and kind. But Littlefinger thought that I was colluding with his plans, that we were in concert with each other; and he became…forward…with me," Sansa nearly choked out.
"Forward?" The Targaryen girl questioned. "How was he forward?"
"He- he would insist on kissing me; and touching me…not as a father would." She heard Daenerys Targaryen suck in her breath. "And so he did not seem overly concerned that the marriage may not happen. He told me one morning that we would leave for Harrenhal, his seat in the Riverlands, saying his presence was required and that he needed his daughter to run his household for him. He said it would give us time to stall the wedding….but I knew…" She could not continue.
"He wanted you for himself," the Targaryen finished for her. Her voice was steely and cold.
Sansa nodded now without looking at her still. "I was trapped your Grace. I had allowed him to save me from King's Landing, from the Queen Regent's wrath and vengeance, from a black cell and Ilyn Payne's sword. I had no means of escaping, no one to whom I could appeal or with whom I could seek refuge. And yet I thought I would almost rather die from an executioner's sword than submit myself to what he wanted of me," she closed her eyes in disgust at the thought, "especially given that I had come to realize that he had played a hand in my father's arrest and execution, all to create the unstable conditions that would permit him to rise unchecked while others fought and died, and countless were driven from their lands and starved and froze…"
"But you did escape, my lady," the Targaryen prompted her now in a voice that was hopeful.
"The day we left the Eyrie and descended the Vale was cold and damp. I knew that meant snowfall but it had not yet begun. Once we cleared the danger of the Mountain Clans, most of the host turned back to the Bloody Gate. As we headed to the Riverlands, the snow began to fall. It was a heavy fall, almost blinding and the horses were becoming skittish…I did not yet know why but I saw my only chance to flee and took it. As my horse whinnied and almost reared, I kicked it as hard as I could and it galloped to the treeline. Once out of sight I dismounted and slapped it to send it off, hoping they would follow the horse."
The dragon queen gasped incredulously: "You ran off in a snowstorm without a mount or provisions-"
Sansa turned to the Targaryen now. "I told your Grace: I did not care that I died, only that I should not be his."
"And how did you survive, my lady?"
Sansa continued to look at her levelly. "Wolves, your Grace," she answered softly. When the Targaryen girl did not respond, she continued: "I stepped high over the snow and ran and finally crouched behind a tree. That is when I saw the first one, and then another and yet another through the trees and they were approaching me slowly. I thought this was how I would die, and then I knew that they would not hurt me for then I saw the leader of the pack walking towards me.
It was a direwolf, your Grace: my sister's own direwolf that had been lost in the Riverlands when she had to run her off to save her from the queen's death sentence. They ordered my Lady executed instead. Nymeria came to me when I stood, and I confess I wept to see her again: alive and strong and so fierce. I wished to be so fierce." She stopped and swallowed before continuing. "Then heard the voices calling for me to come back, and I saw Nymeria bare her teeth in a growl and the other wolves gather behind her. I- I lead them towards the voices but they had caught the scent and ran towards them. I heard the cries, the screams of men and horses. I heard him screaming. I leaned against a tree and waited for it to end. Nymeria came back to me then, it was dark and so I followed her. I knew not what else to do. I walked in the snow all night behind her until I could no longer feel my own feet or hands and my face felt numb. Finally at dawn we came to a road, and I saw a man walking with a dog, an very big dog. I feared Nymeria would attack them but when I turned…when I turned your Grace, she had left me there. And so I turned back to the road and approached the man: he wore brown robes and a brown cloak and I saw he was a brother of the faith. I told him that our party had been attacked and only I had survived and needed refuge. He bid me accompany him and told me that they would take me in where he was going."
Sansa shivered once now to remember how cold she had felt and how lost, unsure if she were going to a worse fate than the one she had left.
"I remember walking some more and crossing back and forth to get to where he was leading me. He was very gentle and kind, but once we crossed I collapsed and remember nothing else but waking in a small cottage with another brother at my side. He said I had been very ill with chills and then a fever, and that they had feared for my life at first when Septon Meribald; he was the man on the road, your Grace, brought me to them. He told me that I was safe, that I was on the Quiet Isle and none would look for me there. I- I realized that he knew who I was, and I was frightened but he told me again that I was safe, and that no harm would come to me and bid me rest." She gave a snort of derisive laughter now. "When he asked if there was anything he could bring me, I asked for a dog. I remembered the old dog on the road and felt somehow that I would be safer with him. And the brother, he told me that he was the Elder Brother, looked at me so queerly, your Grace, and said he would try to find me a dog." She covered her mouth and shook her head.
"I don't understand, my lady: did he bring you the dog?"
Sansa smiled now. "Sandor Cleagane, your Grace, was called the Hound; King Joffrey even called him 'dog'."
Daenerys Targaryen looked at her, astonished. "Do you mean to say that...your husband…"
"..was there, on the Quiet Isle: living as a penitent, your Grace. Yes, the Elder Brother brought me a dog. That is how we found each other again." Tears rose in Sansa's eyes to remember her own amazement to see him alive, her wonder to see him so changed, so calm and gentle and sorrowful and asking her forgiveness; and she had given it freely and gladly. And so it had begun then.
The Targaryen girl nodded. "And so you returned to Winterfell."
"In time, your Grace. I needed to regain my strength; and I was reluctant to ask him to leave a life that seemed to have brought him some measure of peace and to put him in danger again so that he should need to fight. I even thought to join the faith myself, as a silent sister; and to disappear from the world. But he scoffed at the suggestion, and said I belonged in the North and that he would take me, that he would protect me always: whether I decided to be the lady of Winterfell or to serve in a tavern. We decided to journey to the Neck and to find Lord Howland Reed whom I knew would harbor us both if we asked. He was my father's great friend, though I had never met him; but knew not where else to turn. It was Lord Reed, your Grace, who told us that Rickon was been found and returned to Winterfell. Of course we knew that we needed to see him." She shook her head now. "There was no other choice for me but duty to my family and to the North."
"You have had an extraordinary journey, my lady."
Sansa was surprised at this statement. "Certainly not more extraordinary than your own, your Grace."
The Targaryen smiled now: "Mayhaps not; but it is still remarkable; and it is the reason why all you wish for now is for peace and for your home and your family. We are not so very different, in some ways." She looked out over the wall now at the expanse of snow leading to the East. "Can you spare some of your men, my lady, to ride to Hornwood?"
"If your Grace requires; I have no doubt there will be volunteers, but-"
"Good. They will accompany my Dothraki riders to meet my Unsullied who are camped further up the Kingsroad. From there they will ride to Hornwood to join your forces against the Dreadfort. I will not use my dragons until we can at least try to free your people. You will write a missive to your husband and great-uncle to be delivered with them-"
Sansa nearly stammered from shock. "The maester, y-your Grace, will send a raven-"
"Could it not be intercepted? We shall let them make a head start and then send your raven, my lady. They will leave before mid-day. I will follow with Ser Barristan and the rest of my khalasar within another day or two. Your sister will accompany us, and so must prepare to leave Winterfell." She turned to Sansa now. "The North will be yours, my lady; I will help free you from these Boltons."
Sansa nodded and went down on one knee and bowed her head. "My queen: I, Sansa of House Stark, do pledge my fealty and that of my people to you, Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. The North will be yours, your Grace."
"Rise, my lady."
Sansa stood now.
"If I look back I am lost," the Targaryen girl…her queen said. "We shall be allies, my lady, and not enemies as you have offered. We shall move forward together, for ourselves and for Westeros."
AN: I forgot to credit Once Beautiful and Brave: the idea of Sansa finding Sandor on the Quiet Isle is from "These Scars We Wear" ; Littlefinger devoured by wolves is from "The Callling"