SANSA

Upon finally hearing from her mother word of the death of Joffrey, Sansa felt as though a tremendous weight had been lifted off her. There was no danger now of any betrothal to that monster-ever! She was free… free! And after the joy and many delights this realization had brought her had passed she then turned her thoughts to contemplating exactly how he had died. At his supposed father's hand… such a charge as kinslayer now rested on the King, saved only with the claim that he as well had gone as mad as the last King. Things were wildly diverging from what had been and that both thrilled her and scared her. What if this new future was worse than the old one? Thus far it seemed rather safe for her and her family, but every little choice she now saw had its consequences.

When word arrived of Robb's sudden rediscovery of the Barrowstarks and his choice in suggesting Lyanna Barrowstark as heir to Barbrey Dustin, Sansa felt her brother might be making a mistake. She knew the history of the Barrowstarks well enough, far better she imagined than Robb did, obviously. The Barrowstarks, along with the Greystarks, had supported the Boltons in their grab for power, becoming kinslayers in the process as they had murdered their Stark kin. Sansa wondered if this might be a move to begin the process of regaining what they had lost by outwitting her simple, naive, trusting brother. So she set her mind upon that news of writing to her brother on the subject, asking him to instead find a better person for the Lordship of the Barrowlands. Someone with better relations with their family history.

However when her mother read further on that to help secure the lands this Lyanna Barrowstark was to become betrothed to Brandon Tallhart, Sansa knew she had to go to Barrowton immediately. If for no other reason than to delay this betrothal until father might be found. She did not wish to see history repeated herself with the Barrowstarks rising once again under the name of a Tallhart branch to stab the Stark family in the back like they had good King Domrik. That's at least the reason she told herself why she was going to Barrowton. Along the journey she was accompanied by Cley for "protection". Reports stated that all of the Ironborn had long since retreated to the Saltspear and Blazewater Bay-with further rumors that more and more ships were on the move.

The town was obviously damaged but held a sort of quaint market town nature quality to it. The houses were square and sturdy little things of wood and stone, seeming to pop out of the ground like a field of mushrooms. The most spectacular building before her was the Town Hall-a three towered structure which loomed over the central square which doubled as a marketplace, the tallest tower containing a clock which chimed as they crossed the square. Her brother's encampment was outside the fortified town, so they continued their journey. Along the way she thought she saw Cley engage in a brief conversation with a pretty young girl, but she paid no mind to it. Nor did she seem particularly upset when her "protection" drifted off in the direction of a nearby tavern. They had been at each other's throats the entire trip-her upset about a particularly nasty prank back at Winterfell of drenching poor young Robert in red syrup while he slept, so that when he awoke he found himself stuck to his bed. The experience had so troubled her poor young cousin that he had gone completely into a shaking fit.

Cley had thought they were all over reacting and that the boy couldn't handle a good joke. So Sansa did not mind his drifting off in Barrowton in the least.

Upon arrival in the battered town she found not only that Brandon and Lyanna were to be officially proclaimed as betrothed before the town hall in a few days' time. She also heard rumor that her brother was near ready to depart the town for some military tactic he had concocted. Apparently the Ironborn had retreated from their offensive to raiding the coast along Blazewater Bay and the Saltspear-and he wanted to draw them into a trap of his own he was to set along the Blazewater River. Sansa knowing of his victories and military stratagems from the frequent beatings she had received in the other future decided that in this matter Robb knew best. She would however challenge Robb's choice on awarding the Lordship of the Barrowlands as he did, which she intended to do privately in his own tent. As she approached the tent after Cley abandoned her to frequent the nearest tavern, a guard was sent in to notify her brother as to her arrival.

As the guard came back out she heard Robb say from inside the tent, "Lord Ryswell, I would love to continue speaking on this issue with you, but I am afraid I must greet my sister who has only just arrived. Would you care to join me in doing so?"

Out came her brother, dressed in his stark colors, with added bandages and wraps around his wounds. Lord Ryswell meanwhile was a tall and lean man, with long brown hair heavily streaked with gray tied back as a horse's tail would look. Despite his age appeared to be quite fit.

"Sansa, what are you doing here?" Robb greeted her in a near rhetorical manner that struck her as false.

Sansa gave her best performance of a happy girl, not for her brother' s benefit, but for Lord Ryswell. "Dear Robb, I have come to meet this new cousin you've discovered."

Sansa knew by the way he spoke what came next, he was rather pointedly attempting to get rid of Lord Ryswell. "Of course you have. Come in, surely you must have news of Winterfell."

After he had settled her into the tent he finally confided his real thoughts to her, "I have to leave this town. The Ironborn are still raiding around Blazewater and the Saltspear, and here I am stuck here arguing about inheritance!"

All this while he had not sat down, and Sansa saw that the wrapped ankle seemed to pain him so as he leaned more heavily on his cane to compensate. So she told him, "You have to heal. If you rest not, that ankle will never heal right, and then you truly would never be able to lead men in battle the same again."

After she forced him to sit down with his leg propped up he then asked, "Any word on father?"

She readily replied, "Not when I left."

"Gods, I'd hoped that when you came that you'd have found him and brought him. Lord Ryswell is no horse... he's as stubborn as a mule," scoffed Robb

"This is as much about being a lord, Robb, as leading men in battle. You have to know how to deal with your sworn lords. What be his claim?

Robb rubbed his hands on his face, clearly trying to wipe away the memory of the discussion he had had with the stern looking lord she had seen earlier, "That father left his daughter Barbrey rule the Barrowlands in her own name, effectively beginning a new descent of lordship-meaning that it would pass to her heirs, not a distant Dustin relation. And he's his daughter's heir."

She knew immediately what the issue was, "Lord Ryswell wants Barrowton-it's the most populated town in our Western holdings, and the one that sees the most trade with Seaguard, Lannisport, and the Reach. He'd be a fool not to try to claim it anyway he can."

"I have been having some men check the Town Hall's ledgers. Hopefully something will come of them that'll put this matter to rest."

"I imagine most of those records are concerning all the food supplies they have to keep," tutted Sansa.

At this Robb sighed and said, "No, Barrow Hall was the one which served as the gathering point for the winter's supplies."

And hearing that, that's when Sansa knew how exactly to approach the problem-if he wanted Lord Ryswell off his back. But Sansa was unsure if she wanted to mention it if that would only give him an excuse to continue with the Barrowstarks inheriting. Just then Brandon Tallhart entered the tent, he was stopped for a moment to see Sansa there, but then gained control once again of himself and turned to Robb.

Brandon gave a fleeting look to Sansa as he acknowledged her presence, before o'erlooking her for the rest of his announcement., "My lord... my lady... I've brought the town clerk. He would like to speak with you based upon your inquiries upon the town records."

"At last, some answers!" exclaimed Robb.

The clerk, Norwyn Fields, was a tiny man, one could almost call him a dwarf, except he was completely proportional. He had something of the field mouse about his looks and behaviors, nervously fretting over the smallest of details in everything he read.

As it turned out, from the Town Hall's records, Lyanna Barrowstark it seemed had told the truth of her descent. The town records concerning marriage showed that Alys Dustin had indeed married Ronnel Barrowstark. Subsequent ledgers concerning births recorded that Ronnel and Alys had indeed given birth to Roderick and Lyanna, as well as another infant sister in between, who had apparently died young for she showed up in no other records beyond internment in the lichfield. A subsequent marriage to Branwyn Mollen had produced two sons named Marq and Osric, who seemed to be about Bran's age. Branwyn's records stopped with a ledger recording her own internment in the lichfields.

However the news that no copy of Lady Dustin's last will had been kept with the mouse clerk troubled Robb more than the confirmation of Lyanna's story. After Norwyn had left, Sansa finally had to admit, "You know, her being who she says she is only makes matters worse."

"What do you mean?" asked Robb.

Sansa wondered if he could be so blind, "She's aiming for power... and this lordship is her first stepping stone."

Robb scoffed before saying, "Sansa, you haven't even met her yet."

"I don't have to have met her to know this."

"Why not?"

Had he forgotten already?

Sansa took a breath before saying as she exhaled, "Because, I was in her place in the other future, or don't you recall? After a while all I could think about after we'd lost the North, was how I could get it back... how I could return... Mark my words, Robb, she's thinking the exact same things."

"But the Barrowstarks lost all claims to the Barrowlands thousands of years ago. I have no doubt that long ago they held such ambitions, but them building Southgate and involving themselves as sellswords or in trade does not bespeak of higher ambitions... at least not for the past few generations."

Sansa could see that he was actually better informed than she thought he would have been.

"She'll use Brandon as a stepping stone to more power."

It was then that Robb gave Sansa a look as though he finally understood something he hadn't before-though what that was she couldn't tell, until he finally said, "I think you need to talk to Brandon."

Sansa cautiously admitted, "I was going to eventually. But I-"

"No now, my dear lovestruck sister."

Lovestruck?! Brandon? What did Robb take her for!

She felt as though she had to correct him, "Robb, I came here for the benefit and security of our house-not because of Brandon."

"Of course." answered Robb with an infuriating grin

She felt incensed at the fact that he didn't take her concerns seriously, and so she snapped "I am being quite serious! The last thing I want to see is you make some political blunder that gets us all killed at somebody's wedding."

Robb took great offense at her suggestion. She and Arya had told them all that they had known of the Red Wedding that they could have pieced together without having been there. There was clearly no other thing that she could be referring to, and Robb knew it. Sansa wished for anything to have taken back those words right then-even if she did think them to be true, Robb did not deserve to hear them.

He asked as though attempting to hold back his building anger, "So mistakes I've made in a future that's unlikely to ever happen now, I'm supposed to be held accounted for now?"

Sansa knew not what to say to this immediately. She was still rather shocked that she had even said it aloud. So he continued, seeming more enraged by her silence, "What of your own mistakes in this other time?"

She began, "Robb-"

Yet he interrupted her, and pointedly added, "No. I think you would not want to speak with me with me. I might just say something that would get us all killed."

Sansa left the tent not long after in a huff. The argument had further descended into an exchange that had resembled her fights with Arya than anything she had had with Robb. After such an exchange, her mouth quenched for the tart taste of some wine, and before she knew it she had found herself outside one of the few taverns outside of town walls. Being a bastard in the Eyrie had afforded her only a few privileges-easier access to drink than her father had permitted under his roof having been one of the few. She drew up her hood so as to not be known immediately, settled herself at a small table and ordered some wine, not caring that no one she knew was not with her. The serving woman gave her an odd look but dismissed it when she found Sansa to be a more than generous patron in her payment.

In what felt like several minutes later Sansa was joined in the tavern after she had secured half a flagon for herself by a well-bandaged half a head-and that was when Sansa realized that somehow Brandon had found her. He was dressed in a simple tunic with the Tallhart trees upon it, leather jerkin and boots, and breeches. All of which were shades of the Tallhart green and brown.

Without asking for permission he joined her with a glass of his own, and asked, "What did he say to you?

"Didn't he tell you?" asked Sansa as she drained the remainder of her glass. If he wanted to play the questions game she could play right back along.

"Truly, Sansa what happened?" asked Brandon. He seemed genuine in his curiosity to know.

"We argued, like all siblings do." she said, hoping that keeping it simple would be better for her. She called for more wine and bread at that moment. This was their first time alone in each other's presence since they'd argued in Winterfell's godswood. Though she guessed that with increasingly finding other guests appearing at other tables, they weren't truly alone.

Sansa took advantage of the silence that fell between them for the moment to truly get a look at Brandon. The upper portion of the right side of his face was still wrapped in cloths from the burns he'd sustained in retaking Barrow Hall. And Sansa for a brief moment wondered if he would grow to look more like the Hound had when she had known the man in the other time.

She broke the silence which had consumed them until this moment by complimenting him on his reported battle prowess and bravery. He cut right through her words and asked, "Why did you come here?" He seemed to have become more sharp with his manner of address.

"I needed a drink," was Sansa's response as the serving woman brought a loaf of bread and a new flagon of wine. Sansa paid immediately and tipped her well. She then broke off a piece of bread and handed half of the chunk she had broken off to Brandon and together they did dip the bread in their own wine to eat. The sweet soggy bread trickling down her throat.

"Alone?" asked Brandon once the woman had left.

"Why not? Is not the North safe for a daughter of Winterfell?" she asked almost rhetorically.

He explained further, "There still lurk Ironborn about-sabotaging what they can. Not to mention others who might use a disruption to a town such as the loss of a Lordship as an excuse to do... well, anything."

"Concerned for my well-being, Brandon? Well, at least someone on this trip seems to care." She should have brought Lady, then she would have felt safer-but the last time she'd taken Lady on a trip about this age... no, best not to chance the Gods a second time on that.

Brandon then sighed and said, "Your brother asked me to find you."

"Did he?" and once again a silence fell between them.

It probably was the amount of wine she had drunk by this point, but she did not care. She couldn't stop herself as the first question-the hidden question-came bursting forward."Why do you want to be betrothed to Lyanna?"

He answer avoided answering anything. "Considering she's to be the Lady of the Barrowlands, I thought that would be rather obvious."

"So it's entirely for her expected lands and titles?" asked Sansa.

"No... not completely," was his ambiguous answer.

Sansa questioned, "Then why else?"

He did not say anything much further to her question, instead at long last taking his second sip of wine.

So she asked another question, "Do you think she'll make you happy?"

He gruffly replied, "I think you're overstepping your boundaries, Lady Sansa."

Sansa insisted, "I ask not but for your concern."

"What do you care what I do with my life?" asked Brandon bitterly.

Sansa couldn't help herself, perhaps it was the wine speaking, "I would rather not see you chained in marriage to someone you didn't really want."

There was a brief pause before he replied, "So now you notice?"

Sansa did not know what to say this this response.

He sighed before saying, "It's too late, Sansa, you've made your choice. Now you have to live with it."

"What?"

He spoke to her in less evasive words, "You and Cley are betrothed."

"No we're not," countered Sansa

"Is that so? Then why is he in town spreading the news around about how you're not only betrothed, but that you also..." his conviction seemed to fail him as he did realize what he was about to say.

She should have been angry and stamping on the ground, but all she could think of for the moment to respond with was the insipid, "You were with Cley?"

He seemed to become rather incensed by the suggestion, but merely quietly said, "I was meeting with Lyanna, and he started to make a fool of himself for the entire tavern to see, like usual."

Sansa disliked at how casually he referred to the possible new Lady of Barrowton.

"Well, it isn't true, but then again nearly nothing he says seems to be either," replied Sansa more than a tad bitterly.

He seemed to give her a kindly look at this response, which she told herself that she did not desire, but she still felt grateful for nonetheless. However before she could loosen her tongue on the subject, a guard dressed in the Tallhart colors approached him.

"My lord, Lord Stark requests your immediate presence in his tent. It concerns the Lady Barrowstark."

Brandon told him to give the message to Robb that he was on his way, and then he stood and held out his hand to help Sansa to her feet, saying, "Come, I'm not leaving you here to drink alone."

After downing the last of her wine, Sansa contented herself to taking the rest of the loaf with her. She took his hand to rise and found she most surely needed it.

When they had returned to Robb's tent Sansa had found that it was far later than she suspected as the evening hours had since fallen upon the outskirts of the town-casting everything in the eerie glow of twilight. On the periphery of her vision she could swear she saw shadows move that shouldn't have.

Robb's tent thankfully was better lit, though not by much. She was dizzy from the walk and was given a chair to gather herself in.

"Gods! I told you to find her, not get her in her cups!" scolded Robb when they had settled her.

"Let it go, Robb. I'm the one who drank as much as I did. It's not like you haven't done the same-and in the First Keep no less!"

Robb seemed to simultaneously blush and pale-which was quite a sight to see.

It was then that a sob was heard from across the tent, and Sansa turned to see what looked like Brandon comforting a crying Arya! But Arya had not come with her... and she was far too old to be Arya. Then this must be Lyanna.

Brandon asked, "What's happened?"

"My brothers... they're gone!" sobbed Arya's twin.

"Gone?" asked Brandon.

"After we spoke, I returned to Southgate to find them missing."

"Mayhaps they had gone a wandering?" asked Sansa, thinking of how Rickon and Bran would disappear when it suited them.

At this suggestion Lyanna shook her head and said, "Osric might have, but not Marq. Marq does not like to be far from Southgate. I have to drag him to get him to go anywhere!" and she bitterly laughed.

"Mayhaps Osric did so to his younger brother?" Sansa suggested, making assumptions which were quickly dismissed as it proved that Marq was the elder, not the reverse.

Lyanna despairingly said, "I've checked everywhere they would have gone...the lichfield, the Town Hall, the market, even the Great Weirwood-but they were no where."

"Be calm my lady, I shall find your brothers," Brandon said in a manner that made Sansa recall the childhood games of Lady and Knight they had played at. He was being her Knight, and he would rescue her missing brothers. Lyanna smiled through her tears and wished him luck-playing the role of the Lady to a degree which shocked Sansa how much it suited her. Seeing him pledge as such, them both dressed in brown and green, Sansa did see them as though they were already married and a chill went down her spine at the thought. It was then that Brandon departed. This left Sansa, Robb, and the still crying Lyanna alone together. Robb it seemed was still slightly sour, as the tentative attempt she made at trying to mend their disagreement was put off until she'd recovered her wits, and he left the tent with the excuse of needing to speak with Cley's father about the counteroffensive he was planning against the Ironborn, and left.

"How old are your brothers?" asked Sansa, not feeling like she could find as easy an excuse to flee the tent so soon after Robb had, and also feeling it improper to do so while Lyanna was still troubled.

"Marq will be eight soon, and Osric just turned six."

"They're not much older than mine and Robb's younger brothers."

Lyanna suddenly realized and reacted, "Oh... excuse me my Lady, but I did not-I mean I can see you are Lord Robb's sister, you both have the same look about you, but I forgot-"

Sansa saw the girl trip over her apology to her offense to proper etiquette, and Sansa knew at an instant that Lyanna, though she might share Arya's Stark features, was not alike her sister in any other manner. And as they conversed, Sansa found herself more and more coming to like Lyanna, though she still suspected that the girl was hiding some kind of secret.

Conversation eased between the two of them as Sansa attempted to distract Lyanna by getting her to speak of her brothers, and not focus on the fact that they were missing.

"Marq has been very quiet lately. He used to follow our elder brother, Roderick, around everywhere until he went to squire at Barrow Hall... said he wanted to be just like Roderick when he was older. I think he's taken his death the hardest of us all. After we moved back in to Southgate he wouldn't stop carrying a little wooden sword that Roderick made for him everywhere. He's become such a melancholic little boy now."

"And how fares Osric since your brother's passing?" asked Sansa.

Lyanna smiled a bit before saying, "Osric can fare anything. The Wall may fall, the Others turn us all to wights and the only time he'd notice anything had changed would be when his food was missing, the trees become too slick to climb, and the barrows too frozen to dig into."

It was upon that last comment that Lyanna's eyes seemed to widen, as though having realized she'd said far too much, but before Sansa could contemplate what this meant her attention, a cloaked man with a burlap sack and a club entered the tent (not from the entrance but from sneaking under the sides), followed by two more fellow hooded compatriots. Sansa shouted for the guards to come, but only two did and were quickly knocked out by the clubs. Lyanna screamed as the man with the sack approached her, and Sansa dove for a dagger that her brother had haphazardly left on the table. As she did so however she felt something hard come down upon her head and Sansa rapidly lost consciousness.