I do not own ASOIAF. I do not profit from this story, nor would I ever seek to do so. All credit for characters and setting to the wonderful GRRM.
A BIG THANK YOU TO ALL READERS AND REVIEWERS. I appreciate all the feedback.
Sansa glanced to her left from where she sat sideways on Nymeria's back. Lord Harold Hardyng, Lord of the Eyrie and Lord Protector of the Vale rode an enormous destrier that snorted and held its ears pinned back. They had been journeying together for a week. An uneasy alliance had formed between them—he told her that he did not intend to keep her his captive that he wanted to save her from Lord Baelish before some evil befell her. Surrounded by soldiers and guards who rarely spoke to her only reminded her of her time in the Red Keep and the Eyrie. Lord Harry certainly did not object in any way to the death of his distant cousin for it had catapulted him to Lord Protector far sooner than it would otherwise have happened.
"My Lord, I had not thought to see you again." Unless it would be to have your headsman remove my head after removing Lord Petyr's.
"You are not responsible for what Lord Baelish did. You were his captive. He is far more tricky than we credited him to be. We never meant for him to escape with you, my Lady. I had thought we might be wed if the idea still appeals to you. It is a good match." His eyes raked over her body, covered as it was by her cloak. "You are very beautiful and pleasing, Sansa. I should like to have you. For my wife."
Sansa ignored the look and the forwardness of his use of her given name. He had no right. He was neither her betrothed, nor her husband, nor a true knight. Nor had he sought her permission or simply been granted the liberty.
"I am still married to Lord Tyrion, exiled, dishonored, and disowned though he may be." Her voice was gentle even with the ice in her was not his fault that those things had happened—well, he had chosen to kill Lord Tywin Lannister—so he had chosen to be a kinslayer, but only after it was made entirely clear that he was guilty just for being as he was, short and deformed and not as his father would have wished. She would marry the young falcon the day Lord Baelish decided to become an honest and honorable man, but there was no need to tell him that. He had an army and the means to force the arrangement upon her if he knew that she was still a virgin. If they discovered that Tyrion had not claimed her, then her marriage could be annulled without the involvement of the High Septon.
"The queen's assassins can not be far behind him at this point. You will soon be widowed."
"I shall have to wait the word of his death and his mourning days as I can not travel to see the High Septon for a divorce." She held in her words about how she never wanted to go to King's Landing again, nor see the Sept of Baelor. She hoped the building would burn or be destroyed terribly. Her father died on the steps of that building. "If you intend to marry me, you will be waiting some time, my Lord."
"What is a little wait when two hearts are bound so close as mine is to yours?"
Lovely words with no substance. She felt nothing for Lord Harry, but better to accept his words than spurn him. He was giving her safe passage through the north, safer than she would have been with her army of wolves alone. An army to claim her right.
Sansa urged the wolf forward a little faster into the deepening snow that was beginning to choke the King's Road at this part of the Neck. She could hardly conceive of what it would be like as they had continued north. She had only begun to learn of winter recently. Winter came the day her father died.
Old Nan's stories about the white walkers played in her mind making her tremble as she remembered the note she had seen and been able to partially read while she was at the Gates of the Moon. It had been signed by her brother who had risen to be Lord Commander of the Night's Watch in the few short years since she had last seen him.
"Where do you intend on going first in the north, my Lord?" She could not help wondering if he knew anything about the north or its lords and thinking it unlikely.
"We are travelling north to join the Targaryen prince who has gone to the wall to slay a false king."
Now there were two of them? Sansa felt her stomach fall. Would she be safe, even with the army of the Vale behind her?
"I understood that the Targaryen queen was at Casterly Rock."
Despite the warmth of her cloak and the heat from Nymeria beneath her, Sansa shivered and leaned forward, wrapping her arms around the animal's neck. She brushed the tears away from her cheeks against the fur, shoving away the memory of her last moments with Lady.
"We know little and less of your queen. We received word of a lost Targaryen prince massing at Griffin's Roost, that he had a dragon." Lord Hardyng stared ahead of him as he rode. "So we went there. There was indeed a dragon there, my Lady. An enormous white scaly beast that breathed golden flames wherever the boy commanded. There has been nothing but trouble in the seven kingdoms since the Targaryens were replaced by Baratheons and Lannisters. Not that the Mad King could be allowed to remain in power. Aegon VI, as he is called. He is the rightful king."
Sansa shifted, holding in her thoughts that maybe the trouble started with one bad decision. Perhaps the bad decision had been made for a good reason—or what passed for a good reason at the time. A person might do a horrible thing without knowing what they were doing—especially if they believed they were in love or loved the for whom the act was prompted.
If Bran had not been pushed from the window. If her father had stayed in Winterfell. If she had chosen to see the contradiction of Joffrey's actions with those of a true prince. If her mother had not taken Lord Tyrion. If she had not gone to the queen. If Theon had not betrayed Robb. If she had seen Sandor's nobility and goodness in saving her as opposed to his harsh words when she tried to thank him. If she had not been so blind in trusting a fool she had made. If. If. If. There were so many ifs. She could not spend her time looking back now. There would be time enough for that later.
"It seems that we are traveling in the same direction."
"Allow us to escort you in safety, my Lady. The north is vast and wild. The journey to the wall is a long one."
And faster with a smaller number of people. Sansa sighed. It would be safer with a greater number of travelers. She now rode with an army. An army that was not hers, an army Petyr intended to give her for reclaiming the North. What would Sandor think of all this? There was precious little she could do to escape so vast a force, and with the Boltons named Wardens of the North, better to have the thousands of men between her and them. It was possible that she could have traveled quietly enough to be undetected, but just as likely that they would be found.
"I would be honored, my Lord. I ask one condition to our newfound alliance."
"Name it, my Lady."
"No Northern lords, except the Boltons, are to be attacked until they prove themselves hostile to us. The Boltons have already betrayed the Starks. They will know that I am here." Sansa shifted. The northern forces were depleted enough by wars in the south. No more needed to die unless they were disloyal to the liege lord. She knew every lord of the North by name and face. "I feel certain that they will be persuaded to join me if given the chance." They did not stand much of a chance against this vast assembled force of the Vale.
"Fair enough. They are your people."
Sansa nodded, peering into the muck and gloom. Her sister had hunted lizard lions when she had last traveled this road here. Once, she thought she saw eyes watching her, but when she looked again, there was nothing. Briefly, she wondered where the floating castle of the Crannogmen was, Lord Howland Reed of Greywater Watch.
"Isn't there a castle somewhere around here?"
"If you care to risk entering the bogs. Only the Crannogmen know how to reach the floating castle." Sansa said, repeating the story often shared among the northern lords.
"Let me go!"
Sansa jerked on Nymeria's back, and the wolf growled and moved through the number of horses that parted with varying bugles of distress. Some had adjusted to Nymeria more easily than others in the time they had spent traveling together.
"Let me go, I say."
"Release him. He is one of my father's bannermen." Sansa's commanded. Nymeria let out a deep growl.
The smallish man was released. He dropped to his knees in front of her.
"My Lady, I was sent to keep watch for you. There is a young girl who knew of your journey and wishes to join you. I think it will please you to see her again. If you can stay your journey for two days that I might take you to her at Greywater Watch, my Lady, you will not be disappointed."
"Who is it that you are taking me to?" Sansa could think of precious few women in the North who would be able to help her, and no way that they would have been able to attain knowledge of her travels. Alys Karstark might help her for their family bond and the Mormont women were known for their loyalty to House Stark, but neither could know much of what occurred. They both lived so far north and hardly an extensive network of informers, nor did they need such a thing.
"She says she is Arya of House Stark."
Sansa slipped off Nymeria's back, resting a hand on her head.
"If she is my sister, Nymeria will know."
"Lady Sansa."
"I would go with you to see A—Lady Arya."
"Of course, you shall come, Ser Gendry." She would not leave him behind. It might please Arya to see him again. Gendry was her man, unlike the others around her—who were Ser Harry's men.
"My Lady, perhaps I should also accompany you," Lord Hardyng said, dismounting and moving to her side.
Sansa looked over at him. There was really no need for that.
"If it please you, Ser."
"It does." He moved to rest a hand on her shoulder. Sansa shifted back, leaning into Nymeria's body.
He had no right to touch her. She would be damned before she allowed him or any of his to touch her. Nymeria was good to protect her. She was no Lady, but she was powerful and protective. The wolf turned and growled, her hackles raising and her ears flattening back.
"Easy, Nymeria. He is not trying to hurt me."
He stepped back.
"I meant no offense."
"Then keep your hands off Lady Sansa," Gendry spoke up, moving between them.
Nymeria's growl ceased, and her ears raised as she pushed her nose toward one of his pockets.
Gendry dug into a pocket and pulled out a few pieces of bacon left over from breakfast and gave them to the wolf.
"We will leave for Greywater Watch immediately," Sansa said. She was going to see her sister. Even if it turned out to be someone false, she could not refuse the chance that it might truly be Arya. "I long for my sister."
"As you wish, my Lady. Lord Reed is preparing a small feast for you, even now. Best we hurry."
Nymeria bowed and Sansa climbed over her shoulders, and buried her fingers in the thick hair of her neck. Gendry walked at her side and Harry the Heir remounted his destrier and urged the animal forward to walk beside the wolf.
"Are you sure about going to this castle, my Lady? It might not be safe without the army."
"Lord Reed was my father's most faithful and trusted bannerman. He always spoke well of him and his loyalty. He faced three knights of the Kingsguard with my father, and walked away after fighting Ser Gerold Hightower, Ser Arthur Dayne, and Ser Oswell Whent. I trust in my father's judgment of him. I should be honored to meet him."
Ser Harry looked taken aback for a moment, pulling his horse to a stop even as Sansa urged Nymeria on, following the small man into the bog. He followed behind her a moment later.
"Stay close to me, my Lady." The small man led them cautiously, occasionally poking the ground with a long walking stick.
Gendry placed his hand on the wolf's shoulder as they proceeded slowly through the bog.
Sansa closed her eyes and leaned forward across the wolf. She was so tired. She wrapped her arms around the wolf's neck. She murmured into it, about her hope of finding Arya and how she wished Sandor was with her. She had lost her wolf and the dog that came to her had become a man. She had no notion she had fallen asleep until Gendry's gentle shaking roused her.
"We are here, my Lady."
Sansa sat up, wishing she was back in her dream. She had dreamed of the Tourney honoring her father's appointment as Hand of the King. Sandor had won as he had in life and had named her queen of love and beauty. She had been about to thank him for the honor when she awakened.
"Princess Sansa."
Sansa jerked at the title and at the sight of all the men in the courtyard kneeling as Gendry lifted her down.
She walked slowly through the thin snow on the ground to a man with a curved gold and emerald pin with a lizard lion on it adorning his cloak.
"Your Grace."
"I am no princess, my Lord. Please stand." The smaller man rose to his feet slowly. Sansa was shocked to see that he was a head shorter than she. "It is an honor to meet you, my Lord. My father always spoke of you with the greatest affection." She curtsied.
"Your brother was a king. You are a princess to the Northern lords still, my Lady. My family remains ever loyal to you and yours."
"I thank you. May I present Lord Protector of the Vale, Lord Harold Hardyng, and Ser Gendry Waters, one of my personal guards."
"An honor to meet you both. Shall we journey inside and out of this cold, my Lady? Your sister awaits us within."
Sansa felt a thousand questions bubbling up in her mind that she longed to ask, but she kept it down. It would not be fitting to assault Lord Reed with so many questions.
"That would be lovely."
Sansa felt her heart rise in her throat as she remembered how she had been treating her sister in the last days they spent together in the Red Keep.
"The feast will not be ready for some hours, so you and Princess Arya shall have some time alone to catch up."
Sansa nodded as she followed a man upstairs.
Lord Reed knocked on the door and opened it when the occupant called out to enter.
"My Lord, I have not seen my sister in more than a year. I should enjoy having her to myself for a time that we might converse as family of our time apart." Sansa turned to the blond man who was following her before she entered the room. Nymeria growled at him and stepped forward. "Ser Gendry, do join us."
The Lord Protector of the Vale looked ready to object at this, but stopped as the wolf snarled silently and flattened its ears back.
Sansa walked slowly into the room and felt a tremor run down her spine as she saw her. The wolf walked calmly to the girl and laid down, curling around her chair.
"Arya."
Arya looked at her blankly. Sansa moved forward and wrapped her arms around her. Tears were pouring down her cheeks.
"You're alive. I've missed you so much. I'm so sorry for everything. It's all my fault."
Arya motioned to the chairs.
"I'm so glad you're alive. I love you."
She moved back and sat down, looking at her sister desperately. She looked different.
"Where have you been, Arya?"
"A girl has been many places."
Sansa stared at her sister. What did that mean? What had happened to Arya?
"Tell me everything, Arya, please. Everything that you have been through."
