Disclaimer: GRRM owns all.
Chapter 53
Sansa
The guards tied her brother to a pole and the wind cried.
Sansa Targaryen's skin crept with goosepimples, her face cold and numb. She wrapped the furs closer to her neck in an attempt to warm herself, but it was Jon which gave her strength to face this moment. Beside her he was dressed in a grey doublet with breeches of the same shade, his black hair combed for the occasion—although Sansa knew there was nothing to celebrate. The high lords of the North gathered in the courtyard to watch the Lord of Winterfell administer his brand of justice for all to see. He won't be taken for a coward and the lords will want their vengeance.
Sansa looked around to see the Starks gathered wearing their masks as hard as a winter pond. The children were not allowed to attend, of course, and were huddled into a chamber eyed by more guards than Sansa could count. Jaime will not take any chances. Those old enough were allowed to attend, especially those of James's family. Cat stood with Rhaella, holding each other for strength in dresses as fancy as they. Rhaegar stood with Brandon like little lords made of chiseled stone. Ned is missing, Sansa thought sadly. That is who is not with us today. She grew sad at the notion of him and Jeyne.
A shiver was sent down Sansa's spine at what she had to witness this day. It was a disturbing thought, to know that your elder brother was going to be punished in a cruel way for his actions, but Sansa understood the situation Jaime was in. The lords want vengeance for Stannis's demands, and it was James who forced his hand.
All formed a circle around the pole which Jaime had erected into the middle of the courtyard. Sansa's hand was clenched firmly into Jon's and she looked to her left to find none of her children there with her. Marissa is in the Great Keep with the children, Robb in the Riverlands, Brandon is supporting Rhaegar, and my Jeyne…Sansa shook her head of Jeyne. As a mother it pained her to do such a thing, but what good would her pain do? It won't bring Jeyne back to me, she knew. But at least I sleep better at night knowing she has Ned to watch over her, and they love each other. It was the only thought which gave her comfort.
The wind cried again and guards stood around the pole. James's hands were bound by a fetter which was bolted to the top of it with his back facing those who stood in the courtyard. He was dressed in a white tunic with black leather breeches, and Sansa knew he must be freezing. At least he has a beard to warm his face. The castlefolk gathered like a sea of people, but only one stood out to Sansa amongst them. Daenerys Targareyn, dressed in a dress of deep purple and violet, stood like a statue with five guards surrounding her. Sansa knew once her husband's punishment began, Daenerys would have to be held back by all the might of Winterfell. But she will not cry. I know Daenerys will not cry; the blood of the dragon does not cry.
"When will this begin?" Sansa asked to no one in particular. She figured it might have been a question better posed to the wind.
"Did you say something?" asked Jon. She could smell the lemonwater coming from his hair.
"I was asking when Jaime will begin."
"When he deems it. The lords who are here to watch want James to suffer, as he will make them suffer during winter for what he's done. The fool."
Sansa clenched his hand. "Don't be too hard on him, Jon, he's paying for what he's done."
"He's still a fool." Sansa could hear the pain in his voice. Jon loves James, he doesn't want to see him hurt. "A bloody fool to think he could play at ranger once more."
"He did what he thought was right, Jon. Davos saved his son."
"And now he's dead." Jon sighed. "Others will die too because James needed his glory. As Stannis told us, 'The price for you glory will be their suffering.'" Sansa knew he was speaking of the smallfolk.
"James will suffer for his actions—has suffered, Jon. He's lost Ned and Lyanna, too. After what she's done."
"And we've lost Jeyne, Sansa."
For now we have. "Which is why we must stay united, Jon. We cannot be mad at each other after all that's happened. We have to be strong."
"We are strong Sansa, but that doesn't mean James wasn't a fool for what he tried to do. Smallfolk will die."
"I know," she agreed softly, "I know. At least our Jeyne's sentence was lessened."
"At least it was lessened…" His voice dipped at those words because they pained him. Sansa clenched his hand further and was happy they were back in Winterfell.
The men had arrived not too long ago dressed in warm clothes and shaggy beards with hair to match. Sansa had been teaching the young ladies to sew when the bells had begun to toll. She rushed to the windows and saw them coming down the kingsroad with the Stark banners flying in the wind. Never had she seen such a lovely sight. All gathered in the courtyard to welcome them and smiles were had with embraces and cheer. The Starks were as one after they arrived, the children happy, and Jaime told them all about what happened in the Neck with the king and Casella. All praised him for how he managed to come to terms with a man as hard as Stannis. Sansa thought it easier to teach a snake to walk than to treat with Stannis Baratheon. When he got to James's attempt at saving Davos, all admonished him for it. Daenerys tried to slap him to no avail and his children threw curses his way. Yet the direst piece of news was Lyanna's involvement in sending the letter to King Stannis—a slight none could forgive. Daenerys had said it was best Lyanna stay in her highborn cell, for if not she would have her to deal with.
"Arya begged for her mercy," said Jaime when they were all gathered around a table. "I told her I'd grant it, of course, but that was before I learned she aided Casella in her escape. Now…I'll have to think of something else." But Sansa knew that her sister would not stay idle at the Neck whilst Lyanna's fate hung in the balance. Word of Casella's escape had not left Winterfell—well, to the best of their abilities—but Sansa knew Arya and Gendry. Lyanna was their eldest daughter, precious to them, and could not be left alone.
Nerves were eating away at Cat. "Let it end, Jaime!" she shouted over the wind. "If you mean to whip my father like a dog best get on with it!"
Jaime turned to her with daggers and was gathered with the high lords of the North along with Bran, Minisa, and Myrcella. He did not give a reply save the stern look, and Rhaella whispered admonishments into Catelyn's ear. She grows more willful with each day that her name might as well be Arya.
But Jaime did not let her go unpunished and motioned to a guard next to Lady Daenerys. "You, there. If my cousin mutters another word like that out of turn, escort her into the Great Keep. I won't have insolence this day from those who do not understand certain situations."
The shock on Cat's face was plain to see and Sansa thought she looked like a tomato red with anger. Her blush rose like crimson on her cheeks and she crossed her arms. Rhaella only took her younger sister into an embrace and kissed the top of her head. Sansa smiled softly at the sight of them nervous to see their father flogged, and knew that Lya's betrayal had brought them together. But what surprised her the most was seeing Daenerys standing with her head held high, as if she was trying to say she will not give in to her emotions. She will not give them a spectacle to snigger about, Sansa thought. Such is Daenerys Stormborn, as some called her when she was a queen.
A cold rush made the snow dance in the courtyard and Sansa shivered. I wonder how James is feeling, she thought. How can he be left fettered to that pole with nothing to cover him? He'll die of cold and not the lash. Sansa watched old Maester Willem walk over to Jaime wearing his black maester's robes. He went over to whisper in his ear and he nodded. Maester Willem retreated, brown hair with more silver, and the Lord of Winterfell walked towards the middle of the courtyard with a whip coiled in his hand. The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword, her father had taught her brother's, and so they taught their son's the same. I wonder what Father would make of all of this; I wonder if he would approve.
"Many of you know this man!" Jaime's voice carried over the crying wind. "Many of you know him as James Stark, the Black Wolf!"
A guard gave a howl and the courtyard laughed. Sansa could not chuckle nor laugh, for her it was not a moment of merriment but sorrow. When the laughter subsided, Jaime said, "But with a heavy heart I must say he is guilty of a grievous crime! Disobedience to his lord!"
The castlefolk gave their grumbles and looks of disapproval while the high lords of the North were nothing but stone. Sansa eyed Lord Umber and knew of Lyanna's intention to marry him. She trades Ned for him, and he trades her for Jeyne. Would that I could marry them both on the morrow. Sansa would see this nightmare end.
"And the punishment must fit the crime!" Jaime held the whip with both hands dressed in boiled leather and chainmail with furs about his shoulders. His hair was long enough to touch his furs and his auburn beard was as thick as Robb's. "He may be a Stark, but not even that can save him from my justice. Highborn or low, a crime is a crime. And I, Jaime of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, sentence this man to flogging until I deem his punishment fit."
Jaime turned around and the wind picked up his hair, and for a moment or two Sansa thought she saw her son. Robb, I'm so sorry this has all happened to you. At least you'll have Casella with you once more should it bring you any happiness, my sweet. I know she forced your hand. Sansa didn't know what else to think and watched Jaime motioned to the guards by the pole. They both ripped off James's tunic violently only to find scars already there from battle. Sansa's eyes went to the knife wounds around his waist which Margaery Tyrell had given him—or so they said. Castlefolks gasped and so did Rhaella while Cat remained in her arms. Rhaegar walked to them with Brandon and welcomed their embrace. Sansa couldn't know how it felt like to watch Jon flogged.
Jaime walked towards his uncle hesitantly, and Sansa saw his hands tighten around the grip. Does he have the heart to whip his own uncle? Sansa thought. Can he withstand the hate his cousins will give him for doing his duty? The wind made snow twirl around the Lord of Winterfell, and Jaime's silence was colder than the wind. Sansa flickered her eyes towards James's children and all were cowering as if they were the ones tied to the pole. But Daenerys remained like stone and the guards were waiting for her every move.
Sansa flinched when the whip cracked and James's grunt could be heard. She noticed the strike of red on his back, the pink color of the lash, and knew it had not broken the flesh. Jaime's back was turned to her, so there was no way she could gauge his intent, but she knew he must be angry. The whip cracked again like lightning, louder than the first, and James grunted again. This time it broke flesh and blood began to streak down his back like tears. With each crack, more time passed between them, and Sansa could sense Jaime was not enjoying this. She would flinch while James grunted, but his spirts grew low. Sansa would watch James's children from time-to-time, and it was as if they could feel their father's pain. Rhaella was weeping madly and Cat into her shoulder. Rhaegar stared at the scene before him trying his best at being a man, but only Brandon's arm around his was what helped him through it. Daenerys stood there and flinched, but she was unwavering like waves upon a stony shore.
James screamed at the last strike and his back was covered with blood. Her hand squeezed the life out of Jon's, and her husband's face could only be a mask void of any emotion. I know he's hurting on the inside and wishes to end this. They all do. Sansa saw no Stark was enjoying this and the Warden of the North began to pant after each strike. Like thunder the whip cracked, like lighting it shook their bones, and James was to the floor with his back etched in marks.
"Enough, Jaime!" Rhaegar pleaded and Jaime looked to him. The lords must be appeased, Sansa knew, and wished for it to end. Sweat matted hair was upon Jaime's forehead, and he collected his breath. "His punishment has been served," he said. "See him to the Maester's turret and dress his wounds." He motioned to the guards to free James and they went over to unlock his chains. They stood him upon his feet to drag him to the turret. Her brother's face was void of feeling, his hair a drenched in sweat, and his eyes were rolled to the ground. Sansa figured he had almost passed out from the pain.
"James!" Daenerys shouted and the snow crunched underfoot when she ran. She held her husband's face, kissing his lips before walking to the turret with him. James's children followed, tears flowing down their faces, and soon they disappeared from sight. Jaime stood in the courtyard as the castlefolk began to disperse with the lords, and his lady wife walked over to embrace and kiss him. His mother came over to do the same and Bran only patted his hand. Sansa could see the disappointment on his face, the sadness with it.
"Jaime did what he had to do," Jon said beside her. Sansa felt drained of everything and turned to him. "I know he feels like he did the wrong thing, but the lords are content with the justice he's given them. None wanted to see James dead."
"Most may have admired his courage."
"Mayhaps, Sansa," he agreed solemnly. "Mayhaps."
Brandon strode over to them in a few steps with a sad look on his face. Her son had grown since he left with the northmen, his brown hair was down past his ears and a light shade of stubble graced his face. The boiled leather and chainmail he wore made him look broader, more like a man, and Sansa knew her little boy was disappearing before her. All mother's dread when their children grow. She had gone through this before with Robb. Now Jon tells me he speaks of love and a woman to call his own. No doubt seeing Rhaegar with Alyssandra has awoken that within him. Sansa knew she'd speak with Rhaella on the matter, seeing as she helped her brother find his lady.
"Nasty business," her son said.
Sansa pulled him into her embrace and kissed the top of his head. "I'm sorry you had to see that."
"I feel sorry for Rhaegar." Brandon stepped from it and gave Jon a quick one only men shared. "And Jaime. I could see he didn't enjoy this. Striking our uncle was like striking his father, it seemed."
"Not to mention James's children will resent him for it."
"Only Cat," said Brandon, "and Rhaenys. She's too young to understand why, and Rhaella will be the more understanding of the three."
"If only Cat was more understanding." Sansa sighed and knew it to be true. She is too much like Arya—guided by her emotions without a second thought. Lyanna is plagued by the same.
"Then she wouldn't be Cat." Brandon tugged at his furs to wrap them. Her son bid farewell, saying he was to spend the day with Rhaegar and his family, and marched off looking all the little lord. When did my son try to outgrow himself? Sansa wondered. Where is my Brandon?
After her son marched away, snow and wind behind him, Sansa made for he chambers with Jon. He kicked the door open upon arrival and the wind screamed outside. The chamber was warm from the hearth the servants had lit for them this morning and all was tidy in their chamber. Both her and Jon liked their chambers neat and tidy. Sansa sat on the bed thinking of all that had happened, seeing her brother whipped for Lyanna's folly. Why did she do it? Sansa wondered. Why did Lyanna write to the king and force my brother's hand? None had been allowed to see her since Bran threw her in a highborn cell, and could only do so with his or Jaime's written consent. Sansa knew that the men had met the other day in a council to decide her fate, but whispers came to her ear about how none had gone to see the former wife of Eddard Stark. It was curiosity which plagued Sansa, heartbreak as well, and she wished to speak with Lyanna about such things, but knew Bran nor Jaime would let her. They'll think me Daenerys and capable of maladies.
"What is it you think about?" Jon asked her. He shrugged out of his furs and laid them on a chair by the hearth. His black-brown hair shook like a dog does fleas, and again he pressed her with the same question. "I see the look on your face, Sansa, when something is bothering you. Won't you tell me?" She said nothing, for some reason, and Jon sighed. He sat next to her, she laid her head on his shoulder and he said, "Is it Jeyne you think of? Do you fear for her more so now that Lyanna revealed her location?"
"Yes," she whispered. Her hair felt matted against the doublet which graced Jon's body. Soon his arm had snuggled her closer.
"I fear for her, too," he told her and his voice was heavy. Only Sansa could read Jon's stoicism as one could a book. She had grown up with northmen. "But there is nothing we can do for her, Sansa. What would you have of us if Stannis's spies are within these very walls? We can truly trust no one save the Starks."
"But it was a Stark who betrayed us," said Sansa while the hearth crackled. She stared at the orange-red flames thinking of her daughter's auburn hair like copper. Sansa looked to the mirror in her chambers and remembered how she'd shoo away Jeyne's servants so she could comb her hair, as Lady Catelyn had done to her. The thought was too much but she shook it away, for her heart was broken in a thousand pieces. "It was not a spy of Stannis, Jon, but our own blood."
"I know," he agreed solemnly. "I know, Sansa. Lyanna's betrayal left a hole in many hearts within this castle."
"Would that I could trade her for Jeyne." Sansa didn't know if she meant those words, but they were plain enough. "Would that I could give over one-thousand Lyanna's just to see Jeyne and Ned marry before the Heart Tree on the morrow. So they can give us more grandchildren to call our own."
"We already have Edmund and Sam."
"I know." Robb's smile came to her only for it to be replaced by a look of anger. He must hate us for taking Casella from him, but he shall have her soon. "But more grandchildren are always welcome, Jon."
He kissed the top of her head. "I know, Sansa, I know, but it's best not to think of those things. What we need is time…time to see Robert have enough influence to sway the royal decree on both Ned and Jeyne." He sighed. "If there is but one blessing out of this mess, it's that Davos's death has paved the way for Robert becoming Hand. As sick as that sounds."
One blessing in a mess of misfortunes. "But Stannis is still king, and wants Ned's head. He cares not for Jeyne."
"Would you see Ned dead? He's like a son to you."
"Of course not, I love him so much, but I'm no fool. Jeyne won't leave him even if she was pardoned and not Ned."
"Yes, and she'll still be confined to a cell for gods know how long. It's best she stays there, Sansa, even if Stannis will send men after them."
Sansa pulled from his shoulder to see clouded silver eyes. He's suffering like me he just hides it better like all Stark men. "How can you say that, Jon? Gods know what those men will do to them."
"What's the alternative, Sansa? Ned dead and Jeyne in a highborn cell within the Red Keep? No, no, no. That we cannot have."
She couldn't believe his words. "But Stannis—"
"Will send men," he interrupted, "but won't have them killed. For all we know they can evade them, move to another city—do something, Sansa!" His silver eyes begun to pierce her. "In Westeros they have no hope, but in Braavos they have possibility! Who knows what men Davos has connected them with…"
"Smugglers and pirates," Sansa spat.
"Smugglers and pirates might as well be king's to them." Jon laid a hand on her shoulder. "They have all the wealth and power. Ned and Jeyne will befriend those powerful men, and Stannis has no power there. They'll be safer there than here."
Sansa nodded. "I see. None of us have said the same, and most want to go send someone to warn them."
"By most you mean Daenerys." Jon cut through the middle. "You're smarter than that. You know that we cannot send anyone there, for Stannis will catch wind and come North to demand our heads. Not to mention Braavos is so big that gods know where they could be—Robert doesn't even know that, he only knows the city."
"Best it stay that way," Sansa cursed or prayed. "Less we want him to divulge more secrets like his sister."
Jon tsked. "Sansa, Robert is not his sister. He's more headstrong like his father."
"He's not Arya, you mean."
"Yes," he said, nodding, "he's not Arya. Do you wish ill will against Lyanna?"
"No, I want answers." Sansa herself sighed and went over to poke the fire with a poker. She turned back to Jon and explained, "Lyanna has betrayed us one too many times, Jon. She wrote Casella, the King, and helped her escape."
"Good thing she did," Jon said. Sansa was surprised and it must have been on her face. "I mean; Daenerys would have done worse to Casella than free her."
"She should have trusted Bran."
"Bran shouldn't have underestimated Daenerys." Jon stood from the bed and went over to pour some ale into a tankard. He sat down at the table to take a sip. "Dany is crafty, and knew what she was doing. Bran should have seen that."
"Bran can't be everywhere at once, Jon."
"Some say he can." Jon took another sip. "Regardless, the egg has hatched and Casella is gone. Jaime has already spoken to Lord Umber on the matter, and his supposed 'bethrothal' to Lyanna."
Sansa was curious. "Has he?"
"He has. Lord Umber had nothing to do with Lyanna's plot—it was something she threatened his men with."
"Do you believe him?"
"Do we have a choice?" Sansa sat down at the table with him and he passed her a tankard. She never liked ale, but did not care right now. All I care for is my Jeyne and Ned to be returned to me. It was strong and bitter after she brought it to her lips. "Jaime can't go accusing Lord Umber of something he couldn't have been there to conspire with," Jon told her. Sasna figured the man had nothing to do with it. "Lyanna is a lady of two powerful houses—her brother is now Hand of the King. I'm sure they were more than willing to do her bidding."
Sansa nodded and took another sip; the tankard was sweating and warm. "What did Lord Umber say of his betrothal?"
Jon smirked. "The man had thought of proposing such a thing to Lyanna, but I fear that has been snuffed into the dirt."
"What do you mean?" Did something else happen I know nothing about? "You sound mysterious, Jon."
"Let us say Lord Umber is no longer in a position to marry Lyanna." Jon poured himself another tankard.
Sansa extended hers and he filled it. "Explain, Jon. You've left me curious at this news."
He laughed that hearty laugh she loved. "Well, do you recall when I told you Arya came to us under a peace banner at the Neck?"
"I do."
Jon cleared his throat from the cold. "It was there she told us Gendry plans on betrothing his daughter to a Martell lad. Baratheon and Martell have always hated one another, and after what we did to Arianne in the capital, well it hasn't been completely extinguished."
"But Robert is married to the eldest daughter of Arianne." How queer it felt to think of the woman who almost stole Jon from Sansa.
"Yes, I know, but there's no other house for him to betroth her to, and to marry a direct Martell instead of a Tyrell…well, Gendry is anxious to see this through." Jon sipped the ale. "Revenge, Sansa, isn't always done by harming someone—you know this as well as anyone else. Weapons may be the choice for Daenerys, but matters of the heart are just as deadly."
Sansa chuckled. "Taking Lyanna's betrothal from her is our revenge, I see." It was then she grew sad at the thought of Ned's children. How sweet Little Dany is and how quiet Brandon can be; even Val is such a welcomed respite with her wildling nature. Sansa had grown to love them very much. An extension of Ned all can hold when we miss him. "But that would mean sending Ned's children to Sunspear, Jon. How can we do that to them and him? We cannot take away his children from their mother?"
"Nor can we expose them to the threats of winter." The hearth crackled and Jon said, "Lyanna is the sister of the Hand, which means her place is in King's Landing with the court. There she will be a very prominent lady and Gendry himself told me that's where she'll stay even after marrying this Martell lad. That's where Ned's children will be, too."
That gave Sansa some relief to know they'll be so close, for Sunspear was so far away. "I'd rather have them in King's Landing than the tip of Dorne."
"As would I." He sighed. "But they'll have to stay in Winterfell until spring has come and Lya is wed. Jaime will banish her from the castle, send her to White Harbor, and her children will stay."
"You cannot do that to them, Jon, nor Lyanna. Even that is too cruel for a mother—crueler than death."
"She took Jeyne from us, what does it matter? The weather could kill the younger ones and Little Dany is only ten. They won't be given a large army to go with them seeing as winter is here. No, no, no, they cannot go with her. Lya would rather have them safe in Winterfell than out in that cold. And it is cold, Sansa."
She supposed that was the right course. "I'd rather have them safe and warm than out in the cold. What has Jaime thought to do about the rest of this?"
Jon tapped his fingers against the table. "The castelfolk know of Lya's part in this treachery, and sniggers have been heard saying it was Bran who helped Casella out of the castle and blamed Lya. Jaime can't have that, so he will do what he must."
"And what must he do?"
"Lyanna will be paraded in the Great Hall for all to see, and there she will tell the entire castle of her part in Casella's escape along with writing the King. We cannot have our own castlefolk sniggering behind our backs. A harmless consequence, don't you think?"
Seeing as James was flogged for much less, I think this all too fair. "And who will tell Lyanna all of this? Whispers say no one has gone to see her."
Jon smiled and Sansa thought it queer. "We thought it should be you, Sansa."
"Me?!" Sansa said aghast and surprised. "Why me?"
"You wanted answers, did you not? Now's your chance."
"But why me?" Sansa wondered. "Why not Jaime or Bran?"
"Both are too busy and others not ready for such a task," Jon explained. "Rhaella is too heartbroken—Cat and Dany are more willing to kill her than to speak to her. Minisa is the Lady of Winterfell—no to mention she isn't a mother. Myrcella is, but…well, Lyanna isn't close to her as she is you. You, Sansa, are to be the one to tell her all of what I told you once Lya is done speaking in the Great Hall. Not before, mind you. We need her emotionally stable to speak and the news of her Martell betrothal would be too much. Once she does that, you may go see her. Tell her all and let her feel what we have at losing those we love."
Sansa didn't know what to make of this but had wanted the opportunity to ask Lyanna for answers. It's the only chance I'll get, so I will take it. She spent the rest of the day sewing with the ladies, visiting James in the maester's turret, and singing in her chambers. During the meals she spoke with her family and all seemed back to normal with the men around. Yet a few chairs were left empty and their absence was felt by all. News of Lya's atonement begun to spread about Winterfell, and it's all the Starks spoke about during supper. The children thought it not enough, such as Rhaenys and Cat, and others it adequate. "She is our cousin," Rhaegar reminded them with his little lady love by his side. "We cannot forget she is our blood and the gods don't like kinslaying." Sansa thought it wise but Cat did not. "She should have remembered that when betraying Ned," she spat, "and Jeyne. It didn't matter to her then, so why should it now when it's her on the other end?" Sansa could have agreed with that, but did not say a thing, and was surprised when Rhaella didn't speak in Lya's defense.
The next few days were uneventful and Sansa kept busy going over the storage they had for winter. Their stock would be dwindled with the northern lords still outside the castle walls, but most would begin to leave as soon as possible. Winter is here and all will prepare. Sansa rationed what she could to the lords and their men, and most would begin to leave after Lyanna's atonement on the morrow. It was no surprise they wanted to see this spectacle considering all of Winterfell was talking about it. Sansa knew that Lord Umber was the first to leave the castle probably under Jaime's order, or because he had nothing to see in watching his spurned love atone for her sins. Sansa wondered if the man wanted anything to do with Lyanna Baratheon after her betrayal had been brought to light, but only a fool would turn away the sister to the Hand of the King. But there's nothing he can do for Lya seeing as lords more powerful than he wants her hand. Sansa was not surprised at the notion of Gendry wanting to wed her off again now that his son was Hand. Lyanna was still young and child-rearing, and beautiful to match.
Winterfell was gloomy when the time for Lyanna's atonement was upon them. The Great Hall had been prepared all morning with tapestries hung from both Baratheon and Stark. The floors had been swept, tables cleared, and pitchers of ale strewn about. Sansa had brought four barrels from the cellars for the occasion. The men had dressed first in their finest while the ladies stayed behind to take longer. They went to the Great Hall as soon as they were ready to see the castlefolk in, but Sansa stayed behind to brush Marissa's hair.
Thick and auburn, her youngest daughter was all Tully. Were it not for Jon being my husband none would think her his. Marissa sat before the mirror dressed in Tully blue with a red trout outlining her skirts. It was the one dress she wanted the most and Sansa ordered it for her nameday the past year. Her auburn hair was coarse and soft against the brush, and Marissa sat in her chair with hands folded on her lap. She was born a lady unlike Jeyne who is a blend of both Jon and I. Sansa could remember Jeyne sitting in this chair while she brushed her hair. "I have to look pretty," she would tell Sansa. "Ned likes it when I'm pretty. He says I look best in blue. Pick the blue dress, won't you Mother?" Sansa smiled to herself at the memory; Jeyne couldn't have been more than a flowered girl of eleven at the time she uttered those words. And she hasn't changed since…
"Do you think Jaime will have Lyanna thrown out of the castle?" Marissa asked her. Sansa shook herself into the present. "Do you?"
"I'm not sure, sweetling," Sansa replied. She noticed Marissa staring into the mirror intently. Noticing herself growing into a lady, no doubt. It's all she has been asking me about.
"I hope not," said her daughter. "I want her children to stay forever."
"We all wish that, Marissa, but Lyanna is their mother. We cannot separate her from them. It's cruel."
Her blue eyes flickered to her in the mirror. "Lya separated us from, Jeyne."
"You sound like Lady Daenerys," Sansa said, combing out the thick auburn hair.
"Is that such a bad thing? What I said is true."
"Aye, it is, but…" Sansa didn't know how to lie. She couldn't stand to tell her daughter something she had held in her heart. "Jeyne wouldn't want us to part Lyanna from her children, and neither would Ned."
"I bet they would seeing Lyanna is the reason they're in Essos." Marissa sighed. "I miss Jeyne."
"We both do."
"She used to comb my hair when I'd beg her to. 'We must keep the tradition,' she would tell me." Sansa heard the sadness in her voice. "I want her to come home."
"As do we all, Marissa." Sansa let herself sigh and the brush kept flowing through her hair. "But what can we do? They're lost to us, for now."
"For now."
Sansa didn't like her tone. "What do you mean, Marissa?"
"Nothing."
She's lying. "Don't lie to your mother. I've been around people who lie like they breath, so don't think you're fooling me with this ruse. Tell me now."
"Fine," Marissa relented. "Rhaenys overheard Father and Uncle James speaking the other day."
Sansa stopped brushing. "Speaking about what, my sweet?"
"It's nothing…" Her voice dropped and Sansa could tell she was afraid.
"Tell me, Marissa. Do you think I'll harm you?"
She shook her head and Sansa continued combing. "No," she said, "but I promised Rhaenys to keep it a secret."
"Your father never keeps secrets from me, and neither should you. Tell me."
"Rhaenys said they were thinking about boarding a ship to Essos."
Sansa stopped brush again and regained her composure. "Is that so?" was all she could say and continued to brush. "When did Rhaenys hear this?"
"Apparently they were going to speak to Uncle Bran about this but that was before Lyanna helped Casella. Now that it's happening, they'll have to wait."
Sansa was intrigued by this notion and was surprised Jon did not tell her. He always spoke of doing nothing, saying the king would find out, but that must have been some lie to keep Sansa from thinking such thoughts and sharing his intent. He never keeps secrets well but is a fool to think no one is listening. Jon was never one for southron politics and whispers, that was Sansa. She had learned under Cersei Lannister, from Lady Catelyn, and knew how to hide secrets and plots. Her husband was not well versed in the matter and Sansa grew nervous at the thought of Stannis's spies overhearing the conversation. If our own little bird heard them, then I wonder who else has? Sansa knew she'd have to speak with Jon about this. It was the only way.
"Don't tell Rhaenys I told you," Marissa begged. "And if you do…tell her someone else did."
Sansa hushed her worry. "Don't worry, my love, I'm as good as stone. I just don't like it when your father keeps secrets from me."
"Don't yell at him, either. He just loves Jeyne, and Uncle James, Ned."
"I know, my sweet, I know." Sansa finished brushing and began to braid Marissa's thick hair. As she did all that could be heard was the wind, snow, and conversations coming from the courtyard. Once they were done, Marissa left to find her cousins and Sansa went to the Great Hall. In the halls she found Rhaella, who was heading there alone wearing her finest Targaryen colors and her silver hair was let down her back.
"Rhaella," Sansa said and she walked beside her. "How have you been?"
"Tired," she said, "and drained from all of this. When will it end?"
"When Lyanna atones for her sins."
Rhaella scoffed. "Her sins are her own, but I do not think letting Casella go is among them." Her skirts billowed and their footsteps echoed.
"I disagree. Lyanna is not crimeless in all of this, Rhaella, and you know it. Casella is the worst of them all."
"You only say that because you didn't experience what she did. Uncle Jon is a man of honor."
Sansa was surprised. "And your brother is horse dung? Rhaella, Ned was naught but a boy when it happened."
"A boy, but thought he was a man. Now he faces a man's consequences."
Rhaella's silver hair spun when Sansa grabbed her shoulder to spin her around. Her violet eyes reflected a sadness and void that she had seen since Ser Criston left the walls. "I pray you don't have to go through what I have, what your mother has. The idea that we are all helpless to save those we love—our children, no less—is something I pray you never go through."
"I'm already suffering in my own way." Rhaella frowned. "I love Ser Criston and he's gone."
"He left not because of your brother, Rhaella, if that's what spurns you. He left because that's his duty as a knight of Storm's End."
Rhaella wiggled free. "Be that as it may, I'm tired of all of this. I'm tired of the anger, the hate, the suffering. I've wasted too much time with you Starks, but now I'm empty of words. Lyanna is like a sister, I love her, and I will let her go if Jaime does not. She cannot be kept her in a cage like Casella was—nor will I allow my mother to plot another scheme to—"
Quick as a direwolf, Sansa pinned Rhaella against the stone wall. She looked around to find the halls emptied of everyone. "Don't speak so loudly," Sansa whispered angrily. "You don't know who's listening."
"No one is listening," Rhaella whispered.
"Winterfell must be crawling with spies," Sansa told her. "You fostered in Storm's End, Rhaella, you know how this game is played. If it's not Stannis's spies, it's Jaime's. He isn't stupid, and neither is his wife or mother. They're from the South, too."
Rhaella's violet eyes flickered in worry. "I see."
"No, you don't. I'm trying to help you, and I say that you must stop this delusion of saving Lyanna as she did Casella. If you think they'll be so foolish as to let Lya slip from their grasp you're mistaken. Swipe it from your mind, Rhaella, or you'll be in that cell." Sansa sighed. "I don't mean to sound so harsh, but I love all my nieces and nephews."
Rhaella crossed her arms. "Lyanna always said you only love Ned."
"Lyanna is blinded by her own emotions, and you, too. Don't you think it's time to be more in the middle than always towards others? Everyone is taking note, Rhaella. Some whispers reach my ear that you helped Lyanna in her endeavor. What do you make of that?"
"A cruel lie!" Rhaella flared. "I didn't know, nor help Lyanna in saving Casella—and I wouldn't have, anyway! I was angry with her after she told me she wrote the King." She covered her mouth.
"You knew?!" Sansa flared and looked to the halls once more. "When?!"
"I didn't for long!" she told her. "Lya told me over dinner and that same night Casella went missing. I-I didn't know she would—"
"—I believe you, Rhaella. It'll stay between you and me, but if you want Jaime to not think you a traitor than start defending your brother more. I'm trying to help you. Who knows what lies these servants make up to win over favor from their liege lord."
Rhaella nodded and the Great Hall was filled to capacity upon their arrival. Sansa went over to the table beneath the high dais with her family and saw Jaime sitting in the seat of honor with Minisa by his side. Jon was dressed in his finest, as were all, and Sansa sat beside him and their children. "I know your secret," Sansa whispered into his ear. Jon said nothing and looked towards the Great Hall with the rest. Sansa spied all the castle folk sitting around tables and on benches awaiting the arrival of the Lady Lyanna. Tankards of ale were being filled, servants serving food for those to eat. Sansa filled her wine goblet and sipped on a fine vintage from Dorne. She thought the irony amusing.
The Great Hall came to a silence when the sounds of chains could be heard echoing off the halls, and like a great sea all turned their heads to see Lyanna walk through the double doors with a retinue of guards surrounding her as if she was some great prisoner. Dressed in Baratheon black and gold, Lyanna held her head high with chains on her wrists. Sansa could feel the tension in the hall, the anger radiating from the Starks, and watched as the guards escorted Lyanna before the high dais. She stood before the Great Hall, before the Starks, and would not show a tinge of fear. Sansa would have acted the same.
"Lyanna Baratheon," Jaime's lord voice boomed off the rafters, "you are charged here with treason. How do you claim?"
"Not guilty," she said defiantly. The castelfolk booed her, threw curses her way, and Lyanna said, "Unless you consider mercy the same as treason!"
"Traitor!" some shouted at her. "Bitch!" was another one Sansa heard used. "Justice for Eddard!" A few had yelled and Sansa looked to see Daenerys bask in her triumph. The Great Hall hushed and Jaime shouted, "This is no trial, for we know that you are guilty. Like the trial given to Eddard, I fear this one would be a farce!"
Laughter erupted until some were red in the face. Some try too hard to please their lord. "Bring over the witness!" Jaime ordered and a servant girl with curled raven hair was brought forward. The guards sat her beside Lyanna and Sansa noticed the girl was scared. And young, so young. What have you done to her, Lya? "State your name, gal."
"Michele, m'lord."
"Michele," Jaime repeated, "what confession have you brought to us?"
"Mercy, m'lord!" the gal wailed and tears stained her face. "I did only what the lady bid of me—I didn't want to do it."
Lyanna's face twisted into anger as she stood by the servant gal. "Lord Jaime," said Lya, "would you torture this poor girl anymore than need be?"
"You will speak when spoken to, Lyanna," Jaime ordered. Her face reddened from the blush and anger, and Sansa knew she hated being spoken to that way from her younger cousin. "Now, Michele, tell us of your role in helping the Lady Casella escape."
"I confess, m'lord, I helped the Lady Lyanna pay the men of Lord Umber, and distract the guards into going to the kitchens for food." The servant gal began to beg. "Mercy, m'lord, please. Do not have my head for this. I was only doing what I was ordered to."
"As we all must." Jaime decreed, "My father taught me justice, and mercy when it is needed. You, Michele, I bestow your lord's mercy. Tell us of what else you know?"
"Thank you, m'lord." The gal blew a kiss his way in gratitude. "Thank you."
"My mercy won't be given until I hear all of your story."
"Right." The gal gave a nod. "Well, I also sent the message to King Stannis from Lady Lyanna's own writing. She paid me with this necklace!" For all to see, Michele showed a necklace with a white direwolf dangling by the end of it.
"A Stark necklace." Jaime's voiced dripped with sarcasm. "I doubt you've ever seen such fine jewelry in your life."
"It's not mine, m'lord, I swear it."
"I believe you. See Michele gone and paid for her troubles." The guards came forward and escorted her away. "Have anything to confess, Lyanna?" Jaime asked when the gal was gone.
"Yes." Lyanna turned to face the castlefolk. "I confess to having made the mistake of marrying a man such as Eddard Stark!" Jeers filled the hall and boos. Curses and shouts, as well. Lyanna faced the Starks with venom. "I'm guilty of having married into this family, and of trusting you all with everything! I'm guilty of loving Ned and being a fool! I'm guilty of helping a lady who was the victim of a falsehood by the Lady Daenerys! I'm guilty of the madness of mercy!"
The hall erupted but most kept her composure. Sansa knew that Lyanna did not mean her words, and like Arya would just say things in her emotions. Lyanna's face was like stone and triumph as the jeers went her way. "Enough!" Jaime shouted and the hall silenced. "Enough of this madness! This is not a trial, nor do you need to atone for such ridiculous claims. My mercy has limits, Lyanna, and I warn you—"
"—Warn me all you like, Lord Jaime!" Lyanna snapped. "I know you won't do anything unless you want to face my father's wrath! Robert is the only hope—"
"Silence!" Jaime interrupted before she could finish. Sansa's breath hitched at Lyanna revealing Robert's intention and role for gods knew to hear. She felt Jon's hand clench hers under the table, which was calming enough. "Lyanna," Jaime said after all had cooled, "I will give you one final warning. Either you confess to what everyone knows you're guilty of from Dorne to the Gift, or you will suffer the consequences."
"And what are those?" asked Lya.
"Confess and mayhaps I'll let your children go with you once you're banished."
Lyanna's face went from defiance to sadness in a flash. "You-you wouldn't, Jaime."
"I would." Sansa heard his chair creak from behind. "You've done the same to some sitting at the table before you, so why should I allow you that mercy? Unless…you confess. Do so, and I'll reconsider."
Lyanna nodded and faced the castlefolk. "I confess. I am guilty of writing the king about Ser Davos, and of helping the Lady Casella escape these walls. I am guilty of betraying my family, the Starks, and those I profess to love. For that, I am sorry. Forgive me, Seven, and Old Gods hear my pleas. May they have mercy on my soul." Her head drooped to her chest in atonement.
Jeers, shouts, and curses were levied her way along with some food. Lyanna gasped, as did some others such as Rhaella, and guards came forward to protect her from their wrath. Their anger seeped into the very walls of the castle and Sansa felt it in her bones. Twisted faces, contorted anger, rotten teeth, and spittle were what Sansa saw out on those tables. And all of it is directed towards Lyanna. A moment of guilt and pity dwindled in Sansa's heart for the daughter of Arya, but when Jeyne's ghost came to her sitting in the empty seat meant for her and Eddard it went away.
For some while it went and food would bounce off the shields of the men protecting Lyanna. Jaime seemed to let them have their moments of justice and venting, seeing as they could not be allowed to in person. It was over as quick as it began and Sansa left the Great Hall with the rest of the Starks to check the stores. She did not want to think about what had happened in the Great Hall, nor of Jon and James's foolish plan. That she would inquire about later at an opportune moment when there would be no risk of prying ears.
After supper was had she went over to Jaime's solar. Sansa was led through the doors by the guards to find him hunched over a parchment scribbling away. His auburn hair dangled down over his face and he sighed having to push it away. "Blasted hair," he cursed and was startled to find Sansa there. "Aunt Sansa," he said filled with courtesy. He stood from the chair and motioned to the empty seat beside him. "Please, take a sit. I may be the lord of Winterfell now but I still know my courtesies."
Sansa smiled and sat beside him. "Wine," he offered and she shook it away. She studied Jaime's face and figured he looked much like Bran—save all son's look like their father's just because they're men. "Why are you here, Aunt Sansa?"
"I need your approval to see Lyanna."
He nodded. "I figured you would. Let me finish this letter and I'll write it for you."
Sansa retreated into her silence and watched him scribble. I wonder who he's writing to? She wondered. "I'm sure you're wondering who I'm writing to."
Can he read my mind? "Who are you writing to?"
"Robert," Jaime told him. "I'm not sure if they know I mean to banish Lyanna from the castle, but they must. I'll send it to King's Landing with news that she will arrive within a moons turn."
"You mean to send her children, too?"
Jaime looked to her with his shimmering emerald eyes. "Of that I am not sure, my sweet aunt."
"What are the lay of your thoughts?"
"I but think of the children." He laid down the quill. "On one hand, we all love them dear. We don't want to see them leave the castle, but…how can I part them from their mother? To take Lyanna and Ned away would be most cruel, yet the weather grows harsher with each day. Can we risk those poor children to traveling on a ship bound for King's Landing with snow fall mounting as it has been?"
A tough choice if there ever was one. "It's a tough choice, Jaime. Have you asked Lyanna?"
He cocked his head at her. "What would she tell me besides to let her children go with her? Lyanna has no rational thought in her body."
"Don't sound so cruel, Jaime." Sansa laid a hand on his forearm. "You aren't the one to act that way."
He nodded. "So Minisa tells me, but Lya must pay for what she's done. You heard her, Aunt Sansa—threatening me with her father's swords. She cannot think herself invincible. It's what emboldened her in the first place."
"I agree, but you may be surprised by her reply. She may say to let the children stay because Lya is a mother, too."
"Mayhaps, but I am surprised to hear you say such nice things about her. I thought you'd want justice."
Sansa shook her head. "I-I cannot forgive her, no matter how hard I try. After I'll I have been through in my life, I've tried to forgive those who wrong me, but to take Jeyne away from me…It's been difficult, Jaime. When you have your first child, I'm sure you'll understand."
Jaime shared a grin that was too queer. "That may be sooner than you think. Maester Willem says that Minisa is with child."
Sansa swooned at the news and gave him an embrace to last a lifetime. "Tell everyone as soon as you can. We need this blessing in such times."
Jaime vowed to do so and wrote the approval she needed to see Lyanna. After leaving his solar she made her way down there with two guards following on each side. Sansa's footsteps were loud and forceful much like the growl a direwolf would give when protecting her pups. She arrived outside the cell to find at least ten guards pacing down the halls. The seal of approval was given to the captain and he took a key from his chain to open the door.
Sansa stepped in with a flagon of wine in her hand, two cups in the other, and saw the chamber was the same as any other in Winterfell made for highborns. The only difference was that all the shutters had been closed tight and the only light to be had were lit candles which flickered in the gloom. Sansa found a figure lying on the bed in the corner, dark and shadowy, only to see that it was just Lyanna.
She sat up on the bed and strained her eyes. "Lady Sansa?"
"None other." Sansa set the flagon down on the table and dragged a chair to sit by the bed. She filled two cups of wine and handed one to Lyanna. "Drink, Lya. This is Arbor Gold and I know you love the vintage. I'm sure you've been denied all the fancy things since being put in here."
Lyanna took the cup and sipped. "Don't think I'll loosen my tongue because you give me some wine. I know the ploy, Lady Sansa. I, too, was a granddaughter of Catelyn Tully."
"And I her daughter." Sansa took a sip. The candlelight allowed her to see that chains graced Lyanna's wrists and her brown hair was in a tangle. It looks like a bird's nest. She wore nightclothes that had stains upon them. Even in the gloom, Sansa saw that Lyanna's beauty was still there. Her beauty wasn't traditional, as many claimed Sansa's was, but more a wild beauty like Arya.
"Why are you here?" Lya asked.
Sansa got to the point. "To tell you how things really are."
"How things really are…" Lyanna took a drink and her chains wrattled. "And how are things? Has Lady Daenerys found a way to make me guiltier than I already am? How long before someone comes to help me escape?"
"I already swiped the notion from Rhaella's mind." Sansa decided to be honest with her about everything. If I am honest, so will she. How else will I get answers?
"Rhaella wanted to help me?" Lyanna sounded surprised. "I thought she hated me."
"No, she will never hate you. In her anger she told me of her mad plan and I persuaded her against it. We don't need you both sharing a cell."
Lyanna laughed. "No, we don't. Lady Daenerys will certainly have my head if that were come to pass." She extended her cup and Sansa filled it. "So, what has Lord Jaime sent you to tell me?"
"You hate him, don't you?"
"Would you dislike your cousin who speaks to you like a brigand?"
"My younger brother was lord for many years; I know how it feels like to bite your tongue when once you would have scolded him with it. But can you blame Jaime for being this way? You've caused him much heart ache, Lyanna. James risked his life to save Davos because of your letter. I could be burying my brother right now."
Lyanna's eyes were hidden by the darkness; how Sansa wished to see the look on her face. "Yes, I know, I've made many mistakes. Yet only Rhaella seems to understand me."
Sansa laid a hand on Lya's own and she could feel her tense. She probably thinks I'm about to strangle her with my own hands. "I understand your pain, Lyanna, I do, but you went about it the wrong way. Why not ask us what you overheard instead of writing to the king?"
"If Stannis had doubts about Robert, I had to snuff them. Now they're all but out."
Her laugh filled the chamber. "Is that what you tell yourself, Lyanna, that you were helping Ned by doing that?" She laughed some more. "Gods be good. You told them where they were, Lya. How can you think this way?"
"Stannis won't find them," she seethed because of Sansa's mockery. "Braavos is a big city."
"And Stannis is the King of half the known world." Sansa downed her cup and filled it once more. "He will send all of his spies to scour Braavos before going after Ned and Jeyne."
"And so will Jaime."
"I don't understand…"
"Jaime has sent his own, don't you know? Did you think he wouldn't?"
Sansa shrugged. "Mayhaps he has, mayhaps he hasn't. What can we do for them when going against the might of a king? You'v seen to that, Lya."
"Then have me killed and be done with it. I won't have this mockery anymore."
"We don't want you dead, Lyanna." Sansa didn't know if she could see her displeasure in the gloom. "None of us do."
"Even Lady Daenerys?"
"Even Daenerys. Most see you as a victim, Lyanna, whereas Casella was the villain. But you set her free."
"She would be dead were it not for me."
"You jump to conclusions." She filled Lya's cup. "You don't know that, Lyanna."
"But you do?"
"Aye, I do. Bran was going to have her make a walk of shame around Winterfell for all to see. He wasn't going to kill her!"
"Lady Daenerys might have."
Sansa shook her head once more. "Dany may love her children, but she's no faceless man. She wouldn't do that to Robb."
"So you say…" Lyanna took another sip. "I expect you want answers. Do I love Ned, did I relish it…if I hate Jeyne."
"Do you? I think you do."
Lyanna took a drink and spat, "Of course I do now that I know she took Ned from me!" She saw the iron in Lya's eyes in the gloom now. "I know, Aunt Sansa, that she was unfaithful with Ned before I even found out about Sam! Both were sniggering behind my back."
"That isn't true."
"Don't lie to me. Casella told me the truth. She told me how Jeyne cried enough tears to fill the Blackwater. And Ned prevented those guards from returning her to Winterfell!" Lyanna threw the empty cup and it made a clank when it hit the ground. "How can you expect me not to care that Jeyne maneuvered her way into Ned's heart?"
Sansa tried to keep her composure at Lya's tone. "It's not that simple."
"Not that simple?!" Lya scoffed loudly. "They're both traitors and you all are liars!" She wiped tears. "Imagine how I feel to know that the family I once loved prefer Jeyne over me? Imagine…"
Sansa tried to. "What do you want me to say, Lyanna? Want to me to curse my daughter which you betrayed? I cannot, and will not. You once told me you didn't fear a girl's crush."
"Because I trusted my husband to be faithful! I didn't think he'd go and swoon over Jeyne."
"Lyanna…" Sansa said softly. "Ned didn't wake up one day and say he loved Jeyne. It was something that was always there, deep in his soul, and was awakened when he was shown…" She sighed. "I can apologize for lying but you act as if you wouldn't have been angry had we told you."
Lyanna turned away and crossed her arms. "It makes no matter. I've grown used to nothing but disappointment and expectations of heart ache. Tell me what you've been sent to convey and leave me."
Sansa could only nod. "I will. Lyanna…you will be banished from the castle."
"I know," she said and wasn't surprised. "I know that much. I'll be sent to gods know where."
"It won't be Last Hearth."
Lya's turned to her in a flurry. "Of what do you speak?"
"We know that you were planning to marry Lord Umber, but that has been snuffed into the dirt." Sansa sighed. "Your father has plans to betroth you to a Martell lad. You'll marry him in King's Landing where you'll be a lady of the court. Robert is Hand now. It's expected of you."
"What of my children?" she asked after her face was shoved into her hands. "Does Jaime mean to take them from me, too?"
"That is up to you, Lyanna. I'm sure you'd love nothing more then to hurt us by taking them from the castle, but think of the weather outside. It's winter and is growing with each day. You'll be given a small retinue to escort you to White Harbor where you'll board a ship to King's Landing. Do you really want them to suffer the wet and cold at such a young age?"
Lyanna began to cry when the realization hit her. Sansa Targaryen wanted to hug her but could not find the will. Think of her as Jeyne. With that she relented and embraced the niece who reminded her of Arya. It was all that kept the warmth in her heart for Lyanna. Her niece moistened her shoulder with whatever tears she had within her and Sansa stood to give her goodbyes.
"Lyanna," Sansa called out from the doorway. "I'll ask your uncle Bran to come see you with answers concerning Ned and Jeyne." She made no reply, so Sansa said, "We love you, Lyanna. Never forget that."
Lyanna Baratheon nodded and went back to weeping into her pillow. Sansa sighed and felt for her niece, how mixed were the emotions in her mind. It was like poison to hate her, poison to love her, and she could not forget that Lya was the reason Jeyne was in-danger with Ned. What is a mother to do when your pulled so many ways? She wondered if this is how Rhaella felt with each day.
Jon was already asleep when she arrived and Sansa slipped into her nightclothes to rest next to him. A hearth roared in their chambers to make it warm and the moonlight rested black bars upon Jon's face. She wanted to ask him of his plans, shake him awake so he'd make love to her, but Sansa let him be. I wonder if he dreams of Jeyne, she thought as the sleep took her.
The next morning Sansa was shaken awake by Jon. He was in a nervous fright, moving to dress quickly. "What's wrong?" Sansa asked him.
Jon threw on a cotton doublet of black and buckled his belt. He went to a basin to throw water on his face and shook out his hair. "Banners were seen on the kingsroad this morning. They wait for us in the Great Hall."
Sansa grew worried and sat up. "Who waits for us, Jon?"
He went over to throw a dress of dark blue onto the bed for Sansa. "Please, Sansa, we cannot keep them waiting."
Sansa got out of the bed and began to dress. She laced her bodice and asked, "Who is it, Jon?"
"Gendry and Arya," Jon told her and finished lacing his boots.
