Ned Stark Lives! Part 3

by cbstevp

The war against the Others continues as new factions from Dorne and the Vale join the fight. But a formidable new player joins the field as Daenerys Targaryen and her dragons return to Westeros. Meanwhile Jon Snow continues his mission to seek out and defeat the Great Other. Only the gods know who will win and who will lose, and who will sit the Iron Throne.

37. Chapter 37 Sansa

Ned Stark Lives! Part 3 Chapter 37 Sansa

The road from Gulltown to the Eyrie was long and cold and full of terror for Sansa Stark. Not that her escorts harmed her or molested her in any way. Far from it, as they were as courteous as could be, making sure she was comfortable and well fed and not to feel like a prisoner at all. But she was a prisoner, being taken against her will to face her aunt, who was accusing her of murdering Petyr Baelish. And that was the source of her terror, the unknown, the uncertainty of what would happen at the end of the journey. None of the men escorting her would speak on the subject, not since she was first taken from the castle of Lord Grafton and then docks of Gulltown on a cold morning just after dawn and the arrest order read aloud so all could hear.

The trip from Duskendale had begun with such sadness she hardly remembered leaving the town for the docks. She had said goodbye to Sandor at the house Lord Tyrion had occupied and they could barely control their emotions in the few brief moments of privacy they had. When the door had closed and Shae had left them she ran into his arms and he held her tight and for a long few moments they stayed that way and said nothing. Finally he had pulled back and looked down at her.

"Do you have the story right?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Only speak to your father and brother, no one else if it can be helped. The fewer that know the better."

"I will. Sandor…when will I see you again?"

"Maybe never."

"Don't say that," she almost cried.

He looked so sad and weary. "I can't promise you anything. There is a war in front of me and only the gods know what will happen, much as I hate them. Then there is your family, who hate me. I will not take you from them."

"I will go wherever you want."

"No…I won't have you live a life on the run, fearing every day what will happen."

"I can bear it," she replied.

He looked at her for a long moment and something passed between them, some unsaid understanding that they would do what they had to do to be together. "Aye," he finally said. "So can I if it comes to it. I got no castles to give you, no coin to buy you pretty things. Men will hate us and talk about us and we will never know much peace."

"I don't care as long as we are together.'

His eyes were shining now and she thought he would cry but he held his emotions in check. "Some day. But not now. You must do as your father says, for now," he told her. "He will send you to White Harbor. You must get away before they know it was you."

He hugged her again and then they kissed and after they kissed she stood on tiptoes and he bent and they touched foreheads together. "Some day," they both whispered and then it was time to go. She looked back once as she left and saw him standing there with tears streaming down his face and she left before the same happened to her. She had to be strong for what was to come, to tell her father all. And to make sure he did not know the whole truth.

The story was accepted, and then she packed her bags and left for the wharves of Duskendale. With a tearful goodbye to her father and brother she boarded the ship for White Harbor. The captain showed her to small narrow cabin in the stern where she placed her bags. He was a heavy set older man, with a thick greying beard and sharp blue eyes that must have gazed on many a stormy sea. His voice was gruff and his manner as well.

"How long to White Harbor?" she asked as he turned to leave the cabin.

"Only the gods know, my lady. Nine, ten days, maybe more. But first we have to stop at Gulltown."

Her breath caught. Gulltown was where Baelish had said he wanted to take her, after paying the captain. Was he in Baelish's pocket? "Gulltown? Why are we stopping there?"

"Close on three dozen of the wounded are from the Vale," he told her. "I also have orders from the King to drop off Lord Baelish and Ser Lyn's bones for their families."

"Oh. I see," she replied, her fears allayed somewhat. "How many wounded are on board?"

"Almost a hundred and more to come, most from the North. I expects you will have your hands full."

He turned without another word and left her. Sansa stored her bags and straightened the blanket and pillow on the narrow bunk as she calmed her emotions, thinking now that Baelish had no chance to tell the captain his plans for Sansa. She went back on deck to help more of the wounded men come on board. The captain wanted to be gone at first light when the tide turned so they spent a few hours getting the men settled and fed before the crew turned in for the night.

Sansa was on deck, ready to go wash up and crawl into her bunk when she was hailed from the dockside. In the dim light from the whale oil lanterns that lined the docks she could see it was Lord Royce, with some of his men of the Vale, plus a wagon that had two coffins in it. She knew whose bodies were in them.

"Lady Sansa," Lord Royce said as he walked up the gangway and came on board. "May I have a word?"

"Of course, my lord," she replied, nervously looking behind him as the men brought the coffins on board. He saw where her eyes went and turned back to look as well.

"Lord Baelish and Ser Lyn," he said with a grimness to his tone. "Their remains at least."

"Yes, the captain told me they would be coming with us," Sansa replied, trying not to stare at the coffins that held the remains of the men she helped kill.

"I would trust you to see they reach the Vale safely," he asked her and she readily agreed. "I also would ask you to deliver a letter to Lord Gerold Grafton, lord of Gulltown, or the commander of the garrison if you cannot find Lord Grafton. He is to send the letter on to your Aunt Lysa in the Eyrie with whoever brings Littlefinger's bones to her."

"Of course, my lord, I would be happy to deliver the letter."

"Thank you. Have a safe journey." He handed over the letter and then dipped his head to her and was soon off the ship.

Sansa stared at the letter in her hand and wondered what it said, and wondered if Lord Royce knew she had killed Baelish and had written such to her aunt. But she then realized she was being silly, for how could Lord Royce know, and if he did he would have done more than just give her a letter.

She pocketed the letter and then turned and stared as the men took the two wooden coffins below decks. King Stannis' standing order was that bodies were to be burned, but Baelish and Corbray had already burned, and what was left would be demanded by their families in the Vale. Baelish was supposedly her family now, but that evil cur would never be considered so by her or any on her side of the family. Her Aunt Lysa had loved him, of that there was no doubt, but she knew Baelish's true affections lay with Sansa's mother, and that his loved for Sansa's aunt was a sham, a way to weasel his way into the Vale and gain power. Lord Royce had at least agreed with that much, as she had heard him say to her father on the Trident.

A fitful night she spent below decks, trying to sleep but not succeeding much. Several times she thought to run back on shore to find Sandor, to flee with him somewhere, but she knew he would never do that, and that out there was nothing but snow and death for anyone so foolish. No, he had a war to fight, and she had a duty to the wounded men on the ship. Sleep did not come easy also because several times she was called for to help one man or another, and as she was the only healer on board, she had to answer the call.

Almost one hundred fifty wounded and sick men were on board, all men of the Vale or the North, and when the ship sailed with the dawn and the turning of the tide, she had her hands full tending to them. Days passed, and the weather was mostly good, yet some men got seasick, and the crew was of little help in cleaning up after the sick men. She complained to the captain and he finally relented and gave her a cabin boy to help her in her duties.

It took three and a half days to reach Gulltown. Five men died the first day, and over the side of the ship they went. They probably never should have been sent, so bad were some of their wounds, but she had no say in who went or didn't, and from the men she learned some had begged to be allowed on the ship, since they knew they would soon die and they wanted to die in the North, or the Vale, their homelands. Two more died on the second day, and four on the third day. Some went quietly, while a few raged against their deaths, calling out for loved ones or cursing the gods in their feverish state. One young man, more like a boy, younger than even Robb and Jon, he asked her to sit with him and she held his hand and spoke as he slowly died. He was from White Harbor, and hoped to see his family again soon, but it was not to be.

By dawn of the fourth day they had rounded Crackclaw Point and were sailing across the mouth of the Bay of Crabs for Gulltown. Near sunset of that day they reached the harbor and the oars were shipped out and they made for a wide berth. Gulltown was the largest city in the Vale, bigger than White Harbor she guessed, but far smaller than King's Landing. Long walls fronted the sea and had many towers on them, and at the harbor mouth stood two small forts, one on each side. The city buildings were made mainly of the stone which abounded in the Vale, with some houses large and impressive, the homes of rich merchants the captain told her as they stood on deck and he gave commands to his crew. There at the east end of the town stood a large castle, which the captain said was the seat of Lord Grafton. It was not as big as Winterfell or even the Dun Fort but it was no small keep either.

After they were tied up and the port authorities gathered some men to help bring off the Vale wounded, Sansa had a long talk with a local maester and told him the condition of each man in her care that got off the ship. Three more from the North she also ordered off, despite their pleas to be allowed to stay, for she feared they had no chance on the rocking ship and might live if kept still and warm on dry land. The maesters took the wounded Vale men to a large warehouse where they would spend the night before arrangements were made for them to return to their families, if they could be moved.

When all this was done she told the master of the harbor what Lord Royce had asked her to do and he pointed her to the large stone castle at the east end of town where he said the lord might be found. Lord Grafton was home and after he took the letter from Lord Royce and heard the news of who was dead he ordered a wagon to the wharves to retrieve the coffins and fetch them to the castle. As for the letter he would send it to the Eyrie with Baelish's body first thing in the morning. Ser Lyn's homeland was at Heart's Home, which was to the northwest on a river upstream from a narrow bay. It would be easier to send his body by sea to the coast and then upriver to his ancestral lands at Heart's Home, Lord Grafton said.

Sansa was invited into the lord's hall to dine. She was tired and hungry and accepted his invitation. The lord was grey-haired and old and a bit portly and more than a bit ruddy in the face. They were joined by his wife and young daughter, and the meal was a fine affair after the strict rations all had been on at Duskendale and the plain fair of the ship's mess deck. All three endlessly asked her about the wars in the south and especially about the lord's son and heir who was with Lord Royce's forces. As Sansa did not know him she could tell them little except that he was certainly well or Lord Royce would have passed on such news. That seemed to relieve them and then Sansa asked if the Others had attacked the Vale yet and learned they had not, though many men guarded the passes to the west and even the wild hill tribes seemed to be ready to put aside past feuds to join forces with the Vale defenders, though no pacts had been made yet. After that the subject became the deaths of Baelish and Corbray.

Lord Grafton admired Ser Lyn and even Lord Baelish to her surprise. "Baelish was custom's officer here for many years and often supped under my roof," he said in a sad voice after she described the official version of how they had died, killed by unknown persons over some dispute, possibly involving Lord Baelish and his various nefarious activities. "He was a friend, but I also knew he had his hands in many places, some not so savory. And this business with marrying your Aunt Lysa…it all seemed so false, and so fast. I sent my congratulations, of course, but like many other lords I was suspicious of his motives, especially after the hasty way they married. He arrived here many moons ago, spent one night under this roof, and said he must hasten to the Eyrie, on King Stannis' business. His own business, I think now, though he did raise the Vale for Stannis in the end. Yet it was Lysa and the Vale he wanted, much as she was not what his heart really desired."

"I know he loved my mother more than my aunt," Sansa said, wondering how much the lord truly knew about this man he said was his friend, a man who Sansa so greatly despised.

The wife and daughter seemed surprised at this news but not the lord. "He did," Lord Grafton admitted, somewhat reluctantly it seemed, as if he did not want to discuss this matter.

"But she was betrothed to my uncle Brandon at that time, before he was murdered by the Mad King."

"Yes, all true. Yet Baelish still could not let her go," Lord Grafton said and then said no more as he sipped some wine.

"What happened between Lord Baelish and Sansa's mother?" the daughter finally asked her father, as if eager for some gossip.

"He almost died for her love," Lord Grafton said after a moment.

"They fought, him and my uncle Brandon, did they not?" Sansa asked, having heard something of this once, but not all the details.

Lord Grafton nodded and continued. "A silly duel, fought when Baelish was being fostered at Riverrun. Of course, Baelish was no swordsman and Stark was, but Petyr refused to yield to the better man, and Stark had to show him the real steel. The cut he gave Petyr almost killed him, though I heard it said your uncle had no such intentions. Petyr was always so stubborn when he set his mind to something. He always got what he wanted...well, mostly. He never got Catelyn Tully. He thought by marrying Lady Lysa he would get the Vale, and he did, for a time, little good it will do him now."

"Now, now, dear," his wife admonished him. "He was your friend and our Lord Robert's stepfather and we must honor his memory, not sully it."

"He married Lady Lysa and stepped into Lord Jon's shoes but he will never take his place," Lord Grafton said next. "Not now, for certain."

"Such a dreadful thing, Lord Arryn's death," the daughter said, changing the subject. She was of an age with Sansa and was very pretty as well.

"Yes, terrible," Lord Grafton said. "And there is still no word on how he died?" This question was for Sansa.

"Grand Maester Pycelle said it was an illness, my father told me, but he and many others believe he was poisoned, my lord."

"Yes, but by who?" the wife asked. "Lady Lysa seemed to think it was the Imp, Tyrion Lannister."

"I believe that has been satisfactorily disproven, my lady," Sansa answered. "At least my father believes he is innocent."

"Maybe so," said the lord. "He did have a trial by combat so the gods think so as well. Well, you say his father and sister and all her children are dead now so maybe the gods have punished the Lannisters enough."

"Not while Jaime Lannister still lives," Sansa said, her tone hard, and she told them what he had done to Bran at Winterfell, a story they had heard rumours of.

"Then may they justly punish the Kingslayer as well one day for what he did to your brother," Lord Grafton agreed. "As for Lord Arryn's death, perhaps we will never know the truth. Pycelle said it was illness, your father poison, and only the gods know the right of it."

Sansa was invited to stay in the castle for the night and she agreed, wanting a soft bed for the night instead of her hard, narrow bunk in a small ship's cabin. But she worried on the men she left on board who might need her so the lord sent word to the maesters to help any man aboard ship that required caring. Sansa was given a nice room and hot water to wash in and finally went to bed feeling better for once, knowing she would be heading for the North in the morning if the weather was fine.

When she awoke at the dawn, she looked out the window and saw it was a nice day, cold, but not a cloud in the sky, and knew they would leave soon. But before she could leave to catch the ship a servant said she was asked to join the lord for an early breakfast and Sansa felt she could not refuse his generosity. The ship would have to wait for her. When she arrived in the hall Lord Grafton was sitting at breakfast with a young man, and both rose to their feet as she entered. "Lady Sansa Stark," Lord Grafton said. "May I present Ser Landon Foote, a knight in service to Lord Arryn."

He said hello and dipped his head and she did the same. Ser Landon was young for a knight, not maybe a few years older than Robb she guessed, and he sported a dark brown beard and was tall and even a bit handsome. He wore the falcon and moon sigil of House Arryn, and she wondered if he was also not related to the Arryns in some way, but thought it impolite to ask so bold a question just after meeting him.

As they sat to breakfast Lord Grafton explained that Ser Landon had been in the town on his lord's business with some other men and was asked by Lord Grafton to take Lord Baelish's remains to her Aunt Lysa.

"A terrible thing," said Ser Landon. "I had not known he had been killed. I wonder if Lady Lysa knows by now. I'd hate to be the bearer of such ill tidings. Did Lord Royce send a raven from Duskendale?"

"I am not sure," Sansa said. "I don't know if they had any birds for the Eyrie at Duskendale. But Lord Royce has written a letter for her."

"Lord Grafton has already given me the letter," Ser Landon replied.

Lord Grafton looked uneasy. "I think it best I send a bird today, at once. Better she hears this news from me if she has not already learned it."

He excused himself and stood to go but just then a young maester entered the hall with a rolled up raven scroll. "From Lord Robert Arryn," he said as he handed the letter to Lord Grafton. The lord took it and dismissed the maester as he opened the tiny scroll. His eyes scanned it quickly and then his face visibly paled and his eyes settled on Sansa as he sat heavily in his chair again. "Gods," he said. "I…I…" but he could not say it.

"My lord?" Ser Landon said in worry and then he reached across the table and took the letter and Lord Grafton did not stop him. Ser Landon read and then he gasped and he looked up at Sansa. "This can't be true."

Sansa felt cold despite the warmth of a nearby hearth. A letter from Lord Robert, which really meant it was from her Aunt Lysa, and they were looking at her…it could only be one thing. "What's the matter?" she finally forced herself to ask.

"Lady Lysa," Lord Grafton said, his voice quavering. "She has accused you of murdering Lord Baelish."

Sansa felt a tightening of her stomach and a shiver going up her spine. She wanted to deny the charge, to scream it was not true, but the words got stuck in her throat, for she knew it was true, that she had killed Lord Baelish.

"My lady?" Ser Landon asked. "Is there any truth to these words?"

Sansa took a deep breath. "No," she lied and then quickly pushed on. "What does the letter say?"

"Only that you are accused of murder and are to be arrested," said Ser Landon. "Lord Robert Arryn's seal and signature are here as well."

"It is absurd!" Lord Grafton almost shouted. "Gods, Lady Sansa is her niece. Why would she murder Baelish?"

"The letter does not offer any proof, only that she is to be arrested and taken to the Eyrie," Ser Landon reminded him. His friendly manner of a few moments ago was gone, replaced by a coldness Sansa did not like.

"My mother always said the Eyrie is closed up in winter," Sansa said, to change the subject a bit.

"It is," Lord Grafton confirmed.

"They have not left yet," Ser Landon told them.

"Not yet?" Lord Grafton said in surprise. "Are the lord and lady still there with winter upon us? Have they not descended to the Gates of the Moon?"

"Perhaps by now, but they were still in the Eyrie ten days past when I left," Ser Landon said. "With war all around the kingdoms, Lady Lysa feared much and even talked of spending the winter there." He stood and looked at Sansa "My lady, forgive me, but this is a direct command. I have no choice, I…"

"Be still, ser!" Lord Grafton commanded. "We cannot do this! Lord Stark's daughter, arrested? It's madness!"

"Madness it may be, my lord, but it is a direct order from our lord and we cannot ignore it."

"I can and I will!" Lord Grafton shouted. "She has supped at my table and has guest right. And so have you, ser. I will not have this injustice in my home!"

"As you wish, my lord. But the moment she leaves I must obey my lord's commands." He dipped his head and started to go.

"I will curse your name forever if you arrest her outside my gates and in my town!" Grafton shouted after him, his face red.

Sansa could not let this go on. "Stop! I will go with him."

Ser Landon stopped by the doors but Lord Grafton shook his head. "No, you will stay here, you will be under my protection until we can get to the bottom of this. It must be a mistake."

"The letter is your lord's command, my lord," Sansa said as she now picked it up and read it and saw all they said was true. "It is his command, and you will both put yourselves in peril if you ignore or disobey it. I will go with Ser Landon." And face what, she did not know, but her voice trembled as she said the words and fear began to creep up on her.

"I cannot allow this under my roof!" Lord Grafton shouted.

"Lady Sansa is right, my lord. To ignore our lord's order is treason," Ser Landon said and Sansa winced, knowing this would set Lord Grafton off.

"Treason you say! You young pup! How dare you accuse me of such?!"

"He did not accuse you, my lord," Sansa said in calming tones. "He was merely pointing out what this all means."

"I beg forgiveness if I gave offence, my lord," Ser Landon said in a contrite manner.

Grafton fumed and took several deep breaths. "Very well. Take her, but not in chains, or in any discomfort," Lord Grafton finally commanded the knight. "And if any harm comes to her, Lord Stark and his sons will know who was responsible."

"I will treat her as I would my own sister," Ser Landon promised.

Lord Grafton curtly nodded and then looked at Sansa, and she could tell he was unhappy with all this. "I will write to you family," he promised. "Not to worry. For I know you are innocent and all this will be like a bad dream some day."

She gulped, for she knew she was not innocent. But she smiled for him and put on a good face and thanked him for his help.

"The letter, my lady," said Ser Landon. "I will need take it."

She nodded and handed it to him and then they were leaving the hall, Sansa hardly knowing what she was doing as she followed the tall knight.

Outside Ser Landon soon gathered five more of his men who had been somewhere else in the castle. All wore the Arryn sigil and all had horses. Ser Landon quickly explained what was happening and his men all stared at him and her in disbelief. One of his men began to protest but Ser Landon cut him off. "We have a duty to perform, nothing more. We leave at once, with Lord Baelish's body. Lady Sansa, do you have any baggage?"

"On the ship," she said and they headed that way. The wagon with Lord Baelish's body was already at the castle and it followed them back to the docks, with Sansa sitting beside the driver. At the docks she got off and went to the ship with Ser Landon and his men following her on foot. "I will not try to escape," she said.

"Of course not," said Ser Landon but still they followed. Many men on the docks and some of the nearby town guardsmen peered at them in curiosity, wondering what was happening.

As she boarded the ship the captain was in a right state. "There you are! We must leave before the tide changes, we…what's this? Who the bloody hell is this lot? Hey, I gave no permission for you to come on board!" As he shouted many of his sailors came towards them.

"I am Ser Landon Foote, captain, in the service of Lord Robert Arryn. Lady Stark has been...invited…to spend some time with her Aunt Lysa in the Vale. We are her escort."

Sansa gaped at Ser Landon's lie and her surprise must have been obvious for the captain let out a growl. "Just what the hell is going on?" he asked Sansa.

"I am being arrested," she gasped. "For murdering Lord Baelish."

Then all was pandemonium as the ship's captain shouted out to his men and they came at a run, many brandishing weapons, and Sansa realized she had made a mistake, that she should have followed Ser Landon's lie, but now it was too late. One of Ser Landon's men shouted out as well for aid and on the docks more men came at a run, including many guardsmen, and more shouts could be heard in the town.

"Any man who touches Lady Stark will die!" the captain yelled. "Get this lot off my ship!"

All the sailors shouted in agreement and swords, knives, cudgels, and spears were brandished as the Arryn men drew their swords. Just as blood seemed about to be drawn Sansa found her voice and screamed a shrill cry. "Stop it!"

All went quiet as they looked at her. She knew what she had to do. "You have a written order, Ser Landon," she said. "Show them."

"Yes, my lady," he replied and he handed over the scroll to the captain. He grunted and took the paper and handed it to one of his men, who apparently could read, and did so, aloud.

"Aye, captain, 'tis what they say it is," the reader said when done. "Signed by Lord Robert Arryn himself."

The captain stared at Ser Landon and his men. "By what authority does Lord Robert Arryn give such orders?"

Ser Landon was no fool and knew where the authority stood. "As Lord of the Vale and Warden of the East his word is law in this land."

The captain shook his head. "Don't give a toss for all that. I was charged by Lady Stark's father to see her safe home and I aims to do just that. So you lot shove off unless you want to be feeding the fishes in a moment!" All his men cheered and again Sansa thought it would come to blood as by now a few dozen Vale men were on the docks above.

"Put up your steel!" Lord Grafton shouted as he came at a run, his face red and his breathing labored.

"Lord Grafton, these sailors are resisting the orders," Ser Landon told the lord of Gulltown.

"I can't let him take Lady Sansa, my lord," the captain said.

"You have no choice, I am afraid," the lord said.. "Now let these men do their job or I will be forced to call the city watch and arrest you all and impound your ship."

The men grumbled and the captain fumed but the Sansa spoke. "It will be fine. It is just a mistake. Do not fight on my account."

"Are you sure, my lady?" the captain asked and she nodded and then he told his men to put away their weapons and all seemed to calm down. Sansa went below and got her bags and was soon back up on the deck.

She looked at the captain. "You will do me a favor by sailing at once to White Harbor and telling my mother what is happening. Hopefully you will arrive before I reach the Eyrie."

He looked to protest but then simply nodded and knuckled his hand to his forehead. "My lady," he said and then he turned to his crew. "All right, you miserable curs! We sail at once! Move!"

Sansa climbed off the ship and stood by the lord of Gulltown. Lord Grafton's eyes were full of sorrow as he looked at Sansa. "I will write to your father in Duskendale at once. I am sure this is all just a misunderstanding. No harm will come to you."

Sansa smiled wanly. "I am sure it will be so." But she knew she was guilty and knew not what would happen. As the crew began to get ready to untie the ship Sansa then realized no one was on board to care for the wounded. "Lord Grafton, they need a healer."

"Yes, of course." He gave orders and as the ship waited soon a young girl like Sansa was found. When told where she was going and how, she turned pale but could not argue with her lord's request. She hastily ran to her home, packed some things and came back to the docks. Sansa left her healing bag for the girl, for Sansa knew she would need it and Sansa was now a prisoner, not a healer. Soon Sansa was sitting back on the wagon with the driver and Baelish's coffin and her few bags behind them. Soon they were moving through the cobblestone streets and then went out a gate and were on the road to the Eyrie.

The journey to the Eyrie took a week. The Vale was a land of mostly mountains and valleys but most of their trip was in the flat lands and so was faster than she expected. For the first few days they skirted a large bay along the coast, passing by towns and villages and making good progress on good roads that had just a bit of snow and ice on them and in some places not at all. Rain came twice and snow one day but it was not near as heavy as the snowfalls of the recent past she had experienced. Inns they stayed at, with her always getting a private room, though with a guard on her door. The days she spent chatting with the wagon driver, an older man name Carson, who told her funny stories about the Vale and its people. She tried to laugh but it was difficult knowing where she was going and why. She also spoke at length about the wars in the north and south and the men escorting her always listened up when she spoke on those things.

Escape never entered her mind for she knew she had no way to do so. She had no coin and no food and knew not the lands. Escape would also make her look guilty, though she knew she was. She just had to hope somehow her father or mother learned what had happened and would send word to Lysa to stop this madness before anything too drastic happened.

What was happening in the south she also worried about. King Stannis would move the army to the capital soon, the sailors had been saying, and Sansa knew that when that happened more fighting would begin, either between the army and the Others or between Stannis and Aegon, and maybe even Daenerys Targaryen. Not knowing what was happening to her family was somehow more frightening than her uncertain future. And of course she worried about Sandor most of all. All these fears she kept to herself, and she tried to remember all she learned the last time she was a prisoner, in King's Landing, and to use her courtesy as her armor.

After two days they came to a place where they had to skirt a large frozen lake and then they headed into the Vale of Arryn, a wide fertile valley. It was a very wide valley at its eastern end, and for three days they traveled its length, getting closer to the western, more narrow end, where the Eyrie was located on massive mountain called the Giant's Lance, the highest in the Vale, Carson the driver told her. The Vale of Arryn was lush in summertime the men told her, but now it was snow covered and icy, with the many villages and small towns filled with small houses with fingers of smoke climbing from chimneys everywhere. Farms they saw as well and large stretches of empty fields where no new harvest would be sowed until winter had passed.

Everywhere they went people asked on news of the war, and so the Vale learned many details of the great battles at the Trident and the retreat to Harrenhal and Duskendale, the eruption of Dragonstone's volcano, the siege of King's Landing, the deaths of many a lord, knight, and man, and of dragons in the realm again. They also learned of the death of Lord Baelish, and no one wept for him, but some lamented the death of Ser Lyn, for he was one of the Vale's great heroes.

At the end of the sixth day since leaving Gulltown they reached the Gates of the Moon, the great fortress that stood at the bottom of the steep climb to the Eyrie above, which sat on the shoulder of the Giant's Lance. Sansa had never been here, but had heard many stories of the place, from her mother's recent visit, and from her father, who had lived here as a young man while being fostered with Lord Jon Arryn. Robert Baratheon had also been here, and this is where the two had forged their lifelong friendship.

Ser Landon had hoped Lady Lysa would have come down from the Eyrie by now, but she hadn't, the main gate commander of the Gates of the Moon told them, and therefore they would have to climb up on the morrow. As they cared for their horses and unloaded Baelish's coffin inside the warm stables, the men grumbled about the dangers of climbing up to the Eyrie in such conditions of ice and snow.

"It's impossible," one man loudly said.

"No, it's not," said a voice, a woman's, and she emerged from the far end of the large stables where many mules were housed. "I did the climb two days past to bring in supplies," she said.

She was slender and wiry, tall but a bit shorter than Sansa, and had short raven black hair and eyes so blue for a moment Sansa thought she was a wight. She wore riding leathers and furs and had a long knife at her belt and a riding crop in her gloved hands. She was pretty but smelled like a mule, or maybe that was just the smell of the stables.

One of the men laughed. "That's cause you're more mule than woman, Mya." His fellows laughed as well.

The girl called Mya was not paying them any mind, looking at Sansa only. "You look like a Tully more than a Stark," Mya said.

"My mother is a Tully. Catelyn Tully, now Stark."

"I know, I met your mother a few years back when she brought the Imp here, which in the end caused her ladyship to rave endlessly when he slipped away. Now it's you her ladyship has been raving about."

Sansa felt a cold chill at those words and Ser Landon turned from where he was helping a stable boy take the saddle off his horse to look at Mya. "What's this? Raving you say?"

"And screaming for you, ser, and wondering where you are with your…prisoner, Lady Stark. A bird came from Gulltown to say you had left a week past. She is wanting justice for her dead love. Is that him in the coffin?"

"It is," Ser Landon told her. "I suppose she wants it taken up as well."

"She does, to look on him one last time." Mya said.

"She won't want to do that," Sansa blurted out and they all looked at her.

"Why not?" asked a new voice as a large man came into the stables, a man who looked like he was in command. He had a large chest and was bald and had a dark brown beard with streaks of grey in it. Sansa guessed he must be in his fifth decade at least.

"Lord Royce," Ser Landon said with a dip of his head. "May I present Lady Sansa Stark."

"Welcome, Lady Stark, though I wish the circumstances were different," Lord Royce said.

"Lord Royce?" Sansa said in confusion.

"Nestor Royce," the big man told her. "A distant cousin of Lord Yohn Royce, who I am sure you have met on the Trident or in Duskendale."

"I have, my lord."

"He is well, I trust."

"He is, my lord."

"Good. My lady, as I came in you said Lady Lysa would not want to look on Lord Baelish's remains. Why not?"

"He was burned, my lord…badly."

Lord Nestor grunted. "I see. It was good you told us. The shock might have done more…untold damage." He looked at the coffin and then walked over to it. "Ser Landon, open it."

"I…yes, my lord." He tried the lid but it would not budge and finally Mya got an iron wedge and hammer and after some effort they pried up the nails enough and the coffin opened.

The smell was not too bad, as the cold helped preserve the body, and he smelled of something spicy and Sansa guessed the maesters of Duskendale had done something with herbs to preserve the body as well, but still to see him was a shock. His face was not even recognizable, he had no hair, and his body was twisted and bent at odd angles, and charred all over. His clothing he had been wearing when Sansa killed him was fused to his skin, and so the holes Sansa had stabbed in his chest were visible. But there was that mockingbird pin at his throat, so there was no doubt it was him, and Sansa suddenly had a flashback of how she had killed him. She reeled away from the coffin and thought she would faint. Mya caught her just in time, her arms like steel as she held Sansa.

"Close that damn thing," Mya growled as she helped Sansa stand up.

Ser Landon and one his men replaced the lid but did not close it shut again and then Ser Landon looked at Lord Nestor. "What shall we do with him?"

Lord Nestor pondered this and then sighed. "She wants him, so take him up, but warn her of what she will see." He then turned to Mya. "Can the mules do it?"

She shook her head. "Be easier to burn him more till just his bones are left and carry them in a sack."

Lord Nestor frowned. "No, that will not do. Can the mules carry him, I asked."

"They can, my lord, but don't blame me if that coffin goes flying off in the wind and takes a mule with it. Why not take him out, wrap him in cloth or canvas, and tie him across a mule?"

Lord Nestor nodded. "Better. Yes, do that, in the morning." He then looked at Sansa and the men she had come with. "You are all tired and food awaits inside. Come."

They started inside, all but Mya and Carson the driver, and as they left, Sansa looked back at the girl, more woman than girl really, and wondered why she looked so familiar.

"What is her family name?" she asked.

"Stone," said Ser Landon. "She's a bastard."

Sansa winced at that word and wondered why, and it must have been the influence of her sister who hated that word with such a passion.

"A king's bastard," someone else muttered in the darkness as they entered a corridor leading into the main castle.

"What?" Sansa said. "Not King Robert?"

"So rumor says," Lord Nestor told her as they came into a large foyer. "But Mya does not know it. Why do you ask?"

"If it is true then I know her brother, half-brother I mean. Ser Gendry of Winterfell. He is married to my sister."

The lord looked puzzled. "Your sister? If I recall she is younger than you are."

"She is my lord. But they fell in love and my parents allowed it. It is a long story."

"Yes, I am sure you have many stories," he said as the knight and his five men filed into a large hall ahead of them. At the door Lord Nestor stopped her and spoke quietly and in a serious tone. "I know not what evidence my lady has to accuse you of this crime, but know this when you see her on the morrow. Be truthful, be strong, and present yourself as a lady of the realm, not as a sniveling girl who is afraid to be found of some wrongdoing. And remember you are her blood, her sister's daughter, and your father is a great lord of the realm."

"I will, my lord," she replied, thankful that someone was on her side. And then she remembered the stories she heard of her aunt, when her mother was here with Tyrion Lannister, of how her mind was unstable. "How is my Aunt Lysa?"

Lord Nestor sighed. "Not well, I am afraid. Worse now she knows Baelish is dead. But never mind all that. I know you are innocent, and soon she will too and all this will be over. Come, let us eat."

But Sansa was not innocent and could hardly eat a thing, but she put on a brave face and told Lord Nestor and the other guests at the table all the news of the wars and once again people talked on how Lord Baelish and Ser Lyn died and more than one person agreed Baelish had always dealt with unsavory types and so perhaps met his end at their hands. Ser Lyn was a different matter, and all wondered why he was even with Baelish when he professed to hate the man so. Sansa knew of her father and Lord Yohn Royce's suspicions that Ser Lyn was actually in Baelish's pocket but said nothing that might cause offense.

As they talked Sansa had wondered why Ser Lyn's name had not been included with the accusation she had murdered Baelish and maybe it was because she hadn't killed him, and there was no evidence to tie him to her. Or maybe her Aunt Lysa cared not for the dead knight and only for her husband who never really loved her.

Once again she was given fine quarters but with guards on her door, and Sansa had a fitful night, not knowing what would happen to her on the morrow. She slept but a short time, awoke in darkness, and had an early breakfast. Then she asked if she could see the girl Mya Stone and one of the men escorted her to the stables.

When she entered she saw on the ground by a mule a human-like shape wrapped in canvas and two men were lifting it to a mule's back and then began to tie it tight. Mya was nearby, feeding oats to another mule, when she saw Sansa enter.

"Morning," Mya said. "Ready for a long ride? Will take half the day, maybe more."

"No, I'm not ready, not at all. Isn't there too much snow and ice?"

Mya walked over to her. "Yes, in places, but not to worry. My mules are surefooted, and I'll have men go ahead to break the ice in the worse places. And if it gets too bad, we will turn back and her ladyship can come down if she wants to see you so bad."

Sansa lowered her voice. "Maybe better if you say we can't go up."

"Maybe for you, but not me," Mya said. "I know you got bigger worries, but I can't refuse my lady's commands."

"No, of course not. I'm sorry."

Mya turned to go but Sansa stopped her. "I know your brother."

Mya stopped, turned back, with a puzzled look on her face. "Brother? I don't have a brother."

"Oh, sorry. My mistake."

Mya stared at her. "They told you the rumors, yes?"

"You know?"

"Of course I know. I have lived here nineteen years and I am not deaf. I never met my father, but I remember a big man, with a fierce black beard when I was a small girl. He liked to toss me in the air and catch me. I think it was King Robert."

"I have met him and he looks just like you said. You are nineteen, you also said? Then I think you are his oldest child."

"Maybe. But who is this brother you speak of? I have only heard of one more bastard like me, an Edric Storm. Have you been to Storm's End?"

Now it was Sansa's turn to be puzzled. "No. Who is Edric Storm?"

Mya laughed. "Same as me, a bastard of King Robert, if he is really my father. But who did you mean?"

"Ser Gendry of Winterfell."

"A ser is he? A knight, and you say he is my brother?"

"Half-brother I guess. He is married to my sister Arya."

"What? That…wow. Really?"

"Yes, really."

Now her face grew disquiet and when she spoke anger and bitterness dripped from her words. "Then tell your sister's man he is lucky. And tell her and him that all of us bastards, king's spawn or not, have not such fortune in life. Tell them to hold onto to each other and pray every day to the gods to thank them that your parents have allowed it."

"Mya…what happened to you?" Sansa asked, knowing there was something behind her fierce anger.

Mya would not look at her, her eyes cast away, and then spoke quietly. "When your mother was here almost two years past, I was in love with a man, and thought we would marry. But his family would not allow it, and now he has another for a wife, someone with the right name and the right parents."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. The will of the gods. Now, we have much to do, and far to go, so I must ready the mules."

The will of the gods…maybe she was right, but it still did not justify all the things men and women did to each other, just because someone was born to the wrong family or to no family at all. As she thought on this she remembered all the times she had been dismissive of Jon Snow because he was a bastard and not really her full brother, and how she was disdainful of Gendry at first as well. Now she knew how wrong she had been, how those two brave men had shown more nobility than many of the sers or lords who had been born to the right family and the right name.

An hour later they left the Gates of the Moon, with Ser Landon and Lord Nestor coming with Sansa, Mya, two more mule drivers, and several mules carrying supplies, one with Baelish's body. The day was bright and sunny, but bitterly cold, and all were bundled up for the weather. At first they went through a small forest of pine and spruce but soon they were climbing above it, on carved stone steps that wound their way up the mountain side. Three smaller forts they would come to and pass through, named Stone, Snow, and Sky, Mya told her as they rode. Above Sky the mules could not go, and they would have to travel in baskets pulled by oxen driven winches, as the narrow stone chimney ladder that was a second way for climbing up was blocked by ice, May reported.

The day was long and tiresome, and very cold, despite resting at each fort and eating hot soup and mulled wine at each stop. Snow and ice covered some of the carved steps and at places the ice had to be hacked out so the mules could walk on. This slowed their progress and more than once Sansa hoped they would be forced back or to stop for the night, but Lord Nestor pushed them on, despite Mya at one point arguing with him that they should retreat.

"If we retreat now, she will be twice as angry," Lord Nestor said and Mya sighed and so they continued. At one point they had to cross a narrow wind swept stone bridge and Sansa feared for her life but with Mya's help all crossed safely. At last they reached Sky and the day was near done and all were stiff and cold. "Madness," Ser Landon muttered as they climbed off their mules and Mya was glad they had made it with losing any mules…or people.

"At least you can rest for now," Ser Landon told the mule girl but she shook her head.

"No, I will go up as well. I must convince her lady and his lordship to come down while they can. This will be the last trip. No more will I chance it."

"Let us hope she will listen to sense," said Lord Nestor said. "We rest for half an hour then we must push on."

The brief rest period seemed like it was over before it had begun and soon Sansa was in a swaying basket with Ser Landon as the chain attached to it slowly pulled them up to the Eyrie above. The sun was setting and the shadows were long and in the growing darkness Sansa could just see the outline of the castle high above, its white stone making it blend in with the snow covered mountainside. In another basket Lord Nestor and Mya would follow with Baelish's body.

As they moved up suddenly the wind blew the basket and Sansa fell into Ser Landon's strong arms. He made to let go but she buried her face in his chest and held onto him. "Please hold me," she said in fear, and it was not from the height she knew.

He held her, a bit awkwardly at first but then he shifted his arms and it was more comfortable. "All will be well," he said.

"Will it?"

He hesitated and then spoke the truth. "I know not."

As she looked past the basket's edge she saw the lower levels of the Eyrie and there on a cliff side so steep it almost seemed to be bending inward she saw a series of caves…but they were too fine, too straight and squared shaped, too well built to be caves, made of mortared stone, and placed in rows…and knew they could only be the sky cells she had heard her mother speak of, the place where Tyrion Lannister had been put when he was a prisoner here.

"Promise me something?" she asked Ser Landon. "On your honor as a knight."

"Ask and it is yours," he replied as any true knight would to a lady.

"Don't let them put me in the sky cells. I have heard how men go mad in them."

"I am sure that will not happen. Lady Lysa is your family, not your enemy."

"She thinks I killed her husband. Being her niece means nothing."

By his silence she knew he thought so as well, and she also knew any promises he made to her might go against any wishes of his lady. Sansa said nothing more, for he had been kind despite the circumstances, and decided not to make him choose between her and his duty to the Vale. She had killed Baelish and if they found her guilty, so be it. Looking at the sky cells made a sense of dread and fatalism come over her, and Lord Nestor's words of the night before had little meaning now. She was afraid, so very afraid, and knew not what would happen.

The basket was getting close to the top now and she could see the whiteness of the Eyrie's stone was matched by the ice and snow which clung to every part of it. Seven slender towers there were she knew from what she had read and been told but she could not easily distinguish them from the masses of ice that dripped and clung to every surface.

And then the view was gone as they came under the shadow of the castle and were pulled up in a large room. Oxen she saw, walking in a circle, yoked to a heavy looking wooden arm that was attached to a winch and a heavy chain. People grabbed their basket and pulled them in and then Sansa was stepping out, here at last. The room was full of bags and boxes and was very cold and the only warmth came from torches on the walls that lit the room.

"Lady Stark," said a grey robed man. He was thin and shorter than her and had thinning black hair and a long neck around which was a many linked chain. "I am Maester Colemon. Welcome. You must be tired and hungry."

"Thank you. I am."

"Come then and…wait, Ser Landon, you were charged with bringing Lord Baelish's remains."

"They are following us," the knight reply. "Lord Nestor and Mya are coming behind us with the remains."

"Lord Nestor and Mya? They mean to persuade her to leave, don't they?" Colemon asked.

"They are intent on it, yes."

"May they have more luck than I. We best wait for them." A short time later the second basket came up and Lord Nestor and Mya come off it, with Baelish's body as well. As they lay it on the cold stone floor, Maester Colemon bent over it.

"How does he look?" he asked.

"Burned," Mya said and Colemon looked worried.

"Strange, the letter we received made no mention of such."

"What letter?" Lord Nestor asked and Sansa now knew he had as little information as she did.

"All will be explained," Colemon replied. "Come, we will have some refreshments and then Lady Lysa and Lord Robert are waiting for you in the High Hall."

"No refreshments," Lord Nestor said in a commanding way. "We will see them now and have this foolishness done with once and for all."

"As you wish," Colemon said and after he gave orders to some men to carry Baelish's body he began to head toward a door.

Sansa felt hardly able to walk as the maester and Lord Nestor led the way, with Mya and Ser Landon behind her. Behind them two men carried Baelish's body on a simple stretcher of the type Sansa had seen on many a battlefield. She hardly took in her surroundings so nervous was she, but she did notice how cold and empty the Eyrie seemed. No guards were posted at doors, no servants were scurrying about as they always were in the Red Keep and even at Winterfell. No one seemed to live here at all.

The doors to the High Hall did have two guards, in Arryn colors, of course, and they opened them. The High Hall was long and narrow and had several windows and torches on the walls, and though the windows were covered in some ice and snow she could see the day was ending and it was almost dark outside. At the far end of the hall was a high dais and massive wooden structure that seemed like a dead tree but she slowly realized was more like a throne, the Arryn high seat. Two guards stood at its foot and on it was a woman and a boy.

Though Sansa had never met her Aunt Lysa, not that she could recall anyway, she knew it had to be her for who else would sit in that seat. Lysa Arryn was dressed in rich pale blue furs and silks and had the auburn hair of the Tullys. She seemed like Sansa's mother in some ways, but she was bigger than Catelyn Stark, one would say she was fat even, or maybe it was her clothing, thick to keep out the cold. No, it was her body for now Sansa could she her face was puffy and she even had the beginnings of a double chin.

The boy was her opposite. Thin and small, with long brownish hair, almost like a girl's hair, he seemed weak and sickly even at a distance as he nestled in the crook of his mother's right arm, leaning against her. In his tiny hands Sansa could see a rag doll and wondered what kind of man he would someday make, this Lord Robert Arryn, who Baelish had wanted her to marry, and whose summons brought her here. But no, it was not his summons, but his mother's words on the letter.

Ser Landon Foote dipped his head as did Sansa, Mya, and Lord Nestor Royce. Ser Landon spoke for them. "My lord, my lady, I present Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell."

Sansa was about to speak but Lord Robert did first, in a high, reedy voice. "Is she the bad girl who killed uncle Petyr?"

"Yes, my dear sweet boy, yes, she is," said Lysa Arryn, her voice harsh and cold and accusing.

Guilty, even without a trial, Sansa thought. I am doomed.

But Lord Nestor spoke up in her defense. "My lady, you make a grave accusation against your own kin."

"Speak not to me of her being my kin, my lord," Lysa shot back. "Murder she did, and she will pay for her crimes. I have the evidence. What say you girl? Did you kill the bravest, noblest, most wonderful man in the whole world?"

"I did not," Sansa lied. She had killed a scheming, miserable cur who did not love you, she wanted to scream, but held her tongue.

"Liar!" Robert shouted at her. "Make her fly!"

"Oh, she will my sweet boy, she will. Soon enough."

Once more Lord Nestor came to her defense. "My lady, I must insist you show us your evidence."

"Insist, is it?" Lady Lysa replied. "You be careful, Lord Royce. You are loyal to your Lord Robert, are you not?"

"You know I am, and always to you, my lady. But this folly has gone too far."

"Folly it is not! She killed him. I have the proof."

"Then by all means show it!"

It was Sansa who had shouted, to her own surprise and everyone else's. Lysa glared at her and pulled out a raven scroll letter from her clothing. "Here is the proof. A letter, from Queen Selyse Baratheon in Duskendale. Maester, take it and read it to them."

As Colemon came and took the letter Sansa's mind reeled. Queen Selyse? What would she be writing about Sansa? What did she know…and then Sansa realized. The dagger, they knew the dagger was hers, the dagger they had been asking around town about.

Coleman retreated back to his place in front of the dais with the letter in hand and read it aloud. The beginning was just introductions from the Queen, but the rest was Sansa's doom.

"It grieves me to tell you Lord Baelish was murdered a few days past, along with Ser Lyn Corbray, both killed in a brothel, stabbed to death," the maester read aloud. "We have evidence that Sansa Stark, Lord Eddard Stark's eldest daughter, was involved somehow. Her dagger was found at the scene, a dagger she used in the healing ward where she works. One of her fellow healers identified it as hers. The maester here is certain it is the weapon which killed Lord Baelish, and perhaps Ser Lyn Corbray as well, though he is less certain of this. Other witnesses saw her enter the brothel where the murder took place, and later saw her flee with blood on her clothing."

"There!" Lysa screamed. "Her dagger! Fleeing! Blood on her clothing! She did it!"

"Make her fly!" the boy shouted again and Lady Lysa had to hold him to calm him down so agitated he was.

What witnesses? Sansa wondered. It was her dagger, yes, but there had been no one who saw her…saw them, her and Sandor…except the old woman and she had died as well. No one was about…or maybe there was? No, if there had been they would have said something sooner. It was her, the Queen, lying, wanting revenge on her family for what Arya and Gendry did to her uncle Ser Axell. Now Sansa would pay the price for that as well.

Lord Nestor took the letter and read it and then he looked at Sansa, his eyes hard as the stone mountain the castle sat on. "Was it your dagger?"

His voice was cold and Sansa knew she was losing him. She forced herself to calm down and remembered the words he had said to her the night before, and this time she did not despair, did not feel dread, and knew that the Queen was lying, at least in part.

"No, my lord," she answered, lying again, but this time her voice was strong and confident. "I did use a dagger to help cut the bandages of the wounded, but left it behind in my healing kit when I was arrested." That much was true for Sansa had left her healing bag behind for the girl healer who had replaced her.

Ser Landon confirmed what she said and then asked a question. "Where is this dagger the Queen speaks of now, my lady?"

"Don't be a fool, ser," Lysa snapped at him. "Ravens cannot carry daggers."

"No, of course not, my lady," Ser Landon said, somewhat abashed. "I meant, is it in Duskendale? Does the Queen have it? Where is this healer who said it was Lady Sansa's? Where are these other witnesses who saw her fleeing the scene?"

"In Duskendale as well, no doubt," Lord Nestor said in a weary tone, his eyes not so hard now when he looked at Sansa, maybe realizing that Ser Landon made valid points. "My lady, we must leave this matter for a proper trial, with the proper evidence and proper witnesses. We must leave this place before it is too late. Mya, tell her."

The mule girl spoke up. "Yes, my lady, soon it will be impossible to leave here. We must…"

"I am not someone you say 'must' to…" Lysa began in anger but then she faltered, the words stuck in her throat. She let out a small wail. "Is that…oh, my poor Petyr!"

The stretcher had been lain on the floor behind Sansa and the others and only now Lysa seemed to notice it. She came off the wooden throne and the boy protested but she left him there by himself. She threw herself on the corpse and let out a mournful wail and for long moments all was still as she cried out her grief.

"Open it, maester, I will look on him one more time," she finally commanded.

Colemon faltered. "My lady…it may be…he…I am sorry, but he was burned."

Lysa let out another wail and then stood and came right up to Sansa, her puffy face contorted in rage. "You burned him!? You will pay a thousand times over when you fall to your death! Take her away! Put her in the sky cells!"

Sansa's fears all returned in a rush and she could not help let out a sob. "Please no, I will not try to escape."

"Oh, I hope you do," Lysa said, her voice full of venom. "I hope you do. Take her!"

No one said a word in her defense now, not even Ser Landon, as two guards took her from behind and led her to a side door and then down some long steps. At the bottom was a corridor with several doors on the left side. Here on a chair was a grotesque looking man, huge and ugly, with small eyes, a fat belly hanging over his leather belt, and half an ear on the left side. He was old and his clothing and breath smelled of wine. But when he spoke Sansa saw he had all gold teeth, which she thought quite odd for such a man. As he stood he held a set of heavy keys.

"Mord, one for the cells," said one of the guards.

"Pretty," said Mord as he grabbed Sansa's arm.

"She's not to be damaged, Mord," said Ser Landon as he came to a halt at the bottom of the steps out of breath. "Treat her with kindness."

Sansa was happy for this one small bit of mercy. Mord let go of her arm and grunted. "Always they jump. Kindness no good."

"Not her, she won't jump. Will you my lady?"

Sansa shivered with fear but nodded all the same. "No, I won't."

"You come," Mord said and then Sansa followed the brute.

"All will be well in the morning," Ser Landon said and Sansa could only hope so.

A door was opened and Sansa stepped through before she was shoved. The door slammed behind her before she could get her bearings. It was night time, pitch black outside, and she felt the cold and the wind and shivered despite still wearing all her clothing and her cloak as well. She backed up till she felt the door and then as she slid down to the rough floor she heard the key lock it shut behind her.

Gradually her eyes adjusted and she could see the outlines of the place where there was no wall. Empty air was all there was and now as a moon rose she could see the outlines of mountains in the distance and then the long stretch of the Vale of Arryn and many lights were twinkling in the distance down there. But she dared not go to the edge and she could already feel the way the floor sloped under her feet.

No food or drink she had had since Sky and now she felt thirsty. Ice was formed on the walls and from this she sucked some moisture and felt much better. She wanted to sleep but could not and what seemed like all the night she shivered and sat in the darkness. But time seemed to slow and what seemed like all the night was really only an hour or more. Long she let her mind play over her life and all that had happened to this point, and she thought of those she loved, her family and Sandor most of all, and worried on where they were, and prayed to her gods, old and new, and hoped that someone knew what had happened to her and was sending help. She also thought on her guilt, and tried to remember that she had truly killed Baelish, but he deserved it, for all he had done and would have done. He had laid hands on her, and so, yes, if they found her guilty and meant to kill she would tell them all about him before she died, about all his crimes, and his lust for his lady wife's own sister.

And finally she did sleep, and awoke with a start, cramped and cold and huddled in the corner by the door. For a moment she was disoriented and knew not where she was but then she remembered. The night was fleeing and in front of her she watched the sunrise to the east on a partly cloudy day.

The door was suddenly opening and Mord was there…with Ser Landon. "Come, my lady," the knight said as he held out a hand.

She took it and he helped her rise. "What is happening?"

Ser Landon sighed. "You are to have a trial…today…here."

"That's impossible," she said as she left the sky cell and entered the corridor, and felt safer already despite his words. "There are no witnesses, there are no judges."

"Lord Robert will be the judge," he said.

"Gods, then I am sure to be found guilty," she wailed.

"But not harmed, not if Lord Nestor and I have any say in it. Just be strong and brave and you will get through this."

She took heart from his words and soon she was led to a place where she could clean herself up and then she was given food and drink and she ate as if she hadn't eaten in years, not even caring it might be her last meal, as well it might be. Mya was there as well and told her what had happened after she had left.

"They took Baelish to the sept and laid him out and had a hasty funeral and then she ordered a mausoleum built for him, a grand structure befitting her great love."

"Where is it to be built?" Sansa asked, not caring but wanting to talk to someone who at least seemed on her side.

"Here, for gods sake," Mya said with a roll of her eyes and then she lowered her voice. "She went rambling on how it should be started right away. Lord Royce finally convinced her it would have to wait till after winter. Thank the gods she agreed. Now I have to haul his body down the mountain again so she can find a proper place for him till the mausoleum is built. You know, it took over a hundred years to build the Eyrie. She is sure to waste a decade or two on this new madness."

"Is she leaving the Eyrie finally?"

"Yes. After your trial, today I hope. I smell a storm coming."

Sansa could only hope she would be going back down the mountain with them, and not made to fly as the little lord had kept shouting. Fly…out the moon door she knew. She had heard stories of it as well, and had glimpsed it yesterday, a barred door with a carved crescent moon inlaid on it set between two slender columns in a wall of the High Hall. Tyrion Lannister had almost went out the moon door, and if had not been for Bronn he would have, and all would have suffered for the little man's loss. Sansa knew the Seven Kingdoms would have already been overrun if Lord Tyrion had not survived to drag all those silly lords to their senses and unite them to fight the Others.

Soon she was back in the High Hall and all was the same as the night before, except now Baelish's body was gone. Lady Lysa and her little brat stared at her from the high seat.

"Are you ready to confess your crimes?" Sansa's aunt asked in a stern tone.

"I have nothing to confess," Sansa said as calmly as she could with her stomach fluttering so much. So much for my trial.

"She lies!" the little lord shouted again.

"Yes, and what do we do with liars?" his mother asked in a sweet voice.

"Make them fly?" the boy asked with an eagerness in his voice.

"No, we make them sit in the sky cells till they jump or confess," his mother said. "But since we are leaving here today I have no time for that. Guards, take her!"

The two guards at the foot of the throne once more stepped forward and seized Sansa's arms.

Lord Nestor protested immediately. "My lady, what are you doing?"

"What I should have done last night," Lysa said as she came off the throne to the floor, her long skirts trailing on the floor under her heavy body. "Open the moon door!" she shouted and Sansa felt her heart skip a beat.

Another guard went to the moon door but Ser Landon rushed there at once. "No, we cannot do this!" he shouted.

"She will confess or die!" Lysa said. "If she confesses I will be merciful. I will let the King's justice decide her fate. But she must confess!"

"My lady," Lord Nestor said in a pleading tone. "You cannot do this. A confession in a such a manner is no proper way to judge guilt or innocence."

"Speak on like this my lord and I will dismiss you from my service. You as well Ser Landon. Now step aside or suffer the consequences."

For a long moment there was silence…and then Ser Landon stepped away from the door, and he would not look at Sansa, ashamed at what he had done. Lord Nestor seemed about to say something to Lysa but then turned to Sansa. "Confess," he said in a low voice. "Confess and let us sort it out later. If she opens that door no knowing what she will do to you. I have seen men go out that door for lesser crimes than what you are accused of, and with less evidence. I beg of you, my lady, confess."

"I cannot confess," Sansa said in a stammer.

"Open the door!" Lysa shouted once more and this time the guards obeyed. The bars were removed and the door opened and a cold wind howled through the hall, and it sounded as if death itself was calling for Sansa.

"Take her!" Lysa commanded and the guards pushed her to the door. Mya Stone let out a cry but no one else said a word, except the boy who again shouted, "Make her fly!"

Now the wind swirled around them, came up and made Sansa's cloak flutter and billow out behind her, and Lysa's pale blue skirts and furs lift as well. Sansa was at the door now, looking out on the day and the rocks and Sky far below, and the two guards held her tight. She looked at one, a young man, and he was pale and his eyes bulging and she knew he was as scared as she was. The other was older, bearded, and stern looking, and he would not look Sansa in the eye.

Then Sansa felt hands on her back. "Confess or I will push you!" Lysa screamed.

"Confess!" Lord Nestor shouted. "I beg you my lady…confess."

Sansa knew she could not confess…but she could not die either, not like this. "I confess," she said in a whisper.

"What was that?" Lysa asked from behind her.

"I confess!" Sansa shouted. "I killed him."

"Killed who?"

"I killed Lord Baelish!"

"Turn her around," Lysa commanded and the guards did so as they stood by her side, now letting go of her arms.

Lysa stared at Sansa and asked one question. "Why?"

Sansa had made a promise to herself and now she kept it, speaking in a loud voice so all could hear her. "He was a monster. He started the wars."

"Lies!"

"He told my parents Tyrion tried to kill Bran but it wasn't Tyrion, it was Joffrey."

"More lies!"

"He tried to turn my friend Jeyne into one of his whores. He tried to rape me in Duskendale."

"Lying little whore!" Lysa screamed. "He would never want you, little whore. He loved me!"

"No…he never loved you…he told me he loved my mother."

Lysa paled and her lips trembled and her eyes bulged in a hideous fashion. "No…no, he loved me. He always loved me!"

"He fought a duel with Brandon Stark for my mother's love!"

"That…that was nothing! She was nothing to him! She rejected him, scorned him. It was I who loved him, always loved him. I who carried his child until they made me get rid of it. They made me marry that old man, made me lay in a bed with him, but it was sweet Petyr I always wanted. He said we could be together if the old man died. He said we had to do it, to be together, told me to put it in his food and wine, told me to write the letter to your mother, tell her the Lannisters killed him, made me…"

And then she stopped, as if she realized what she was saying…but it was too late.

"You?" Lord Nestor said in shock. "You killed Jon Arryn?"

"No, no!" Lysa screamed. "It was Petyr! He poisoned him, he did it all, he wanted a war, he wanted…" She looked at Sansa once more. "He wanted your mother!"

With that her face contorted in rage and she pushed on Sansa's chest, a hard shove, and Sansa felt herself flung backwards as many voices shouted at once. She grabbed for the guards but the old guard pulled away from her reach and then her left hand landed on the young guard's arm. He was off balance and but managed to jerk his arm away from her and step away from the opening. Sansa was falling now and her right hand reached out one last time, and clutched a piece of cloth and then she grasped it and hung on for life, and as she looked up she saw she had Lysa's arm, but there was no resistance and then she heard another scream, a woman's scream, and a blur of blue silk and furs went over her head as Sansa fell backwards into the void.

Tumbling she was, over and over, and below her she saw a body falling, all in blue, and knew it was her aunt, falling to her death, and Sansa would soon join her. She let go a scream, a scream of anguish and loss, for her family and for Sandor, none of who she would ever see again or hold or love.

Another scream she heard now as she fell, a hideous scream unlike anything…no, wait, she had heard that scream before, at Harrenhal, the scream…of a dragon.

Then she hit something, hard and she thought it was rock, and she was dead, and she felt something in her body break, on her left side, her ribs and maybe her arm as well, and then she was rolling across something hard, and scaly, and a voice was shouting at her.

"SANSA! HOLD ON!"

She knew that voice, but had not heard it in a long time. Hold on, but to what, she wanted to scream as her arms flailed out, and soon she was falling again and then something boney and sharp grabbed her, and she felt pain lance along her right hip and then…she wasn't falling anymore.

"SANSA! HANG ON!" the voice shouted again.

"Jon?" she cried out. "JON!"

"AYE! JUST HOLD ON!

She was slowly beginning to understand. She was flying, held by something hard that had her around her slim waist and then she looked up from the swirling ground below and saw in front of her a long massive neck, white with golden scales and then the head and the mouth opened and screeched and she knew it was a dragon that had her in its claws.

The ground was coming up faster and then there was a flat patch of snow and she felt the claws open and she dropped a few feet and landed in cold but soft snow. She landed on her face and then turned and screamed out as pain coursed through her body. She saw through the snow and her tears the dragon, all white and gold, with a man in black on its back, landing a dozen yards away. Then the man was off the dragon and racing through the snow towards her.

"Jon!" she cried out as he bent over her and touched her face.

"Aye, I am here," he said and she sobbed in relief and he gently held her shoulders. "You are hurt?"

"Yes, I, oh, my side, my arm…I think I am bleeding, too."

Jon looked down at her and nodded. "You right hip, the claw must have cut you. It doesn't look too bad, a scrape more than a cut. Can you sit up?"

"I think so, owww, oh, gods, oh, I…Oh, Jon, you saved me!"

He grinned. "I suppose so. But Viserion did all the hard work. We were flying above the castle looking for a place to land when I saw someone in that door and when I saw your long red hair I just knew it had to be you. I urged him on and we got to you just in time."

"Thank the gods. But how are you here? On a dragon? And what happened to your hair?" His hair was very short and his beard was just scruff.

"Questions you have and answers I will give, but we can talk later. First, I must bandage this cut."

He took a dagger from his sword belt and cut some strips of cloth from his cloak and then looked at her hip. "I…how…" he said in confusion and she told him how to do it, to make longer bandages to wrap around her leg and hip and he did so and soon she was bandaged up. As he worked he asked her what was going on and who was the other person who had fallen from the moon door.

"She tried to kill me, Aunt Lysa." She told him it all, and he knew she had killed Baelish already. Then she said that it was Lysa who went out the moon door with her.

"Jon, I think I pulled her. I think I killed her."

"Then we best not stay here."

"Jon…what's happening? Where is everyone? Where did you come from?"

And so her told her it all, briefly, about Bran and the weirwoods, which she already knew, and then about Daenerys finding him, Aegon's death, the great battle, the new queen's crowning, and then some of who was dead and wounded, and especially about Robb losing his leg, and how Sandor had saved him from Bolton.

"Sandor? He still lives?" she gasped.

"Aye," he said and she let out another sob and cried as he held her.

Then she had more questions. "Jon…where is Ghost?"

"Dead as well…and Sam, too." He cast his eyes away when he said this last.

"Oh, I am so sorry. What happened?"

"I will tell it all. Come, we must fly first."

"Fly? You can really fly a dragon?"

"Aye, so we must get out of here. If you really did pull Lysa from the moon door, much as it seems she deserved it, they will want to arrest you again."

She knew that was right. "But where will we go?"

"White Harbor I am thinking. Viserion needs rest and food first, but we can't stay here." She looked up and high above them was the Eyrie, and she knew nearby the small fort of Sky must be located as well. Soon they would be looking for them, many eyes no doubt having seen the dragon rescue her.

Her wounds made it painful to walk and she knew some ribs were broken and her arm was badly bruised as well, so he carried her to his dragon. Jon placed her on the great white dragon's back and as she sat and felt it's body under her she knew this is what she had hit, somewhere near the tail or neck maybe, but she could not remember. Jon sat in front of her and told her to hold him as tight as she could and using her good arm she did so.

Jon shouted a command in a strange language and the dragon ran and flapped its wings and in moments they were flying and soon they were up and over the mountains and heading north. And now being so high up Sansa was not afraid and for the first time in many days Sansa felt safe and happy despite the pain in her body. She was free and she was going home and the man she loved was alive and, for the most part, her family was safe and well…for now.