Game of Thrones
Blood Betrayal
The Red Queen: Chapter IV
"I'm a slow learner, it's true. But I do learn."
She was back where she belonged, The Queen in The North sat upon her direwolf throne. She squeezed the arm and was reassured as she felt the ancient wood. But she was not at ease, her mind constantly drifted back to Dreadforts dungeon, the haunting blue eyes of the dead wretch tied to that cross. She thought back to her time beneath the crypts of Winterfell, when the long dead remains of her own relatives rose, their sole purpose to kill. She could see their blue eyes, hear their screams, feel their cold dead flesh.
She brought herself to her senses, her sentinel, ever present loomed behind her throne, a towering masked shadow bearing Widow's Wail. She looked out across her hall to the assembled court "You have news?" She directed the question to Lord Clay Cerwyn, who had rode from his own castle.
"Your Grace." He bowed "We've had word from Greywater Watch, your uncle is gathering a host at The Twins."
"For what purpose?" She asked with a raised eyebrow
"We do not know Your Grace."
"Have you sent a raven?"
"Two Your Grace." Maester Wolkan answered from the side of the room "We had no answer while you were at The Dreadfort."
"Very well." Sansa sighed "Lord Mezin, Lord Dustin. You will raise a hundred men each and send them to man Moat Calin. Lord Dustin you will lead the force, make contact with House Reed, we will secure our Southern Boarder."
"Yes Your Grace." They both bowed
"Your Grace, if I may" Lord Glover spoke up. Sansa gave him a slight nod as a sign to continue "I command more men then both of those Lords, should I not hold Moat Calin in your name?"
"Your strength, along with the men of Tohren Square, will remain on our Western shore, the Yara Greyjoy is sworn to my brother but then so is Uncle Edmure, I do not know what is happening but I am not prepared to leave the North unprotected. Lord Manderly will protect White Harbor."
"And what of The Dreadfort Your Grace?" Lord Glover added ominously, turning his attention to the young girl stood off to one side, dressed in a deep red woolen dress with a flayed man broach "you appear to have brought something back with you."
"A new ward" Sansa answered him coldly "And The Dreadfort is not your concern, I am its lawful heir, I will administer The Dreadfort, its garrison and its attendant lands."
"Your Grace, there are Northern families that fought against the Boltons who would gladly send their children to court… Highborn Children."
"There are indeed families that fought against The Boltons My Lord, your family not being among them. I will reward those families by allowing them to keep their children with them. Highborn or not. And if I choose to take a ward from my own castle and bring her to Winterfell I will. For that is my right… as your Queen."
"Your Grace" He bowed
"Now you all have work to do, go." The assembled court filed out, leaving the Queen alone with her Sentinel. "You saw the dead man." She turned to him "You heard the witch. What do you think of all this?"
"Fuck the dead." He replied gruffly beneath the black bandages and hood that covered his face "Fuck the witch."
Sansa allowed herself to smile slightly "Indeed" She nodded "My brother knows, that's why my uncle is gathering a host at Twins. So why hasn't he sent me a raven, or a rider asking for my help in all this." Her Sentinel stood stone behind her "Of course he may be sat in his chair in King's Landing wondering why I have not consulted him on this delicate matter. Perhaps he thinks I am trying to keep secrets from him…"
"You are." Her Sentinel barked
"True." She conceded "My brother sees all and knows all, he ceded the North to me without any fuss… he spared Jon's life." She allowed herself to drift slightly, before recovering her chain of thought "He even sent you from King's Landing with part of our fathers sword, to protect me… tell me Sentinel, do you truly serve me, or are you my brother's creature?"
"Fuck the King." Her sentinel spat
Sansa smiled again and rose from her throne, she placed a reassuring hand on the huge man's forearm "I do not question your loyalty, my loyal sentinel." She smiled softly "If I did you would not be here." He let out a slight grunt and gave a nod, he gently put his hand on hers for the briefest of moments. "That dead man in the Dreadforts dungeon is proof the long night is not over… it will take all the realms of men to defeat it. Bran is still my brother."
"Is he?" The Sentinel asked "Is there anything of him left?"
Sansa stayed silent for a moment "Come… we have much to do."
…
WInterfell was more than a crypt, a keep and high walls. It had been the centre of The North for thousands of years. There were Smiths here, and tanners, butchers and bakers. There were seamstresses and clerks, grooms and horse breeders, Winterfell was the heart of The North, and it needed to be self-sufficient. In its Northernmost corner, a great yellow and green glass structure rises up from the ground, halfway up the castle's wall. Yellow and green panels, held in place with steel, inside a warm, humid garden, home to fruits and vegetables that maintained the castle and surrounding holdfasts in even the harshest winter.
Sansa stepped into this glass garden through a small door, several lanterns burned, reflecting off of the green and yellow glass, giving the garden a strange hew. Among the rows of plants, a young girl in deep red stands, inspecting the different trays. "Amelia." Sansa calls out
"Your Grace" The shocked girl turned around
Sansa looked around "I used to like it here as well." Sansa began "Most people only want to see the crypts, the morbid fascination of the long dead kings of winter. I always preferred it here, surrounded by life." The Queen turned her attention back to the young girl "The Dreadfort doesn't have a glass garden does it?"
"No Your Grace." She shook her head
"You didn't grow up at The Dreadfort did you?"
"No." The girl swallowed "I grew up in a house on the Weeping Water. I didn't move to the castle until father was made The Castelan. When uncle Roose came here."
"Uncle Roose?" Sansa asked with a raised eyebrow
"My father used to call him that." She grinned slightly "Not to his face obviously."
Sansa let out a hollow laugh "You seem frightened Amelia."
"I'm here to make sure my father stays loyal to The North." She looked away "I know what happens if he messes up."
"WIll he?" Sansa asks
"Not on purpose." She shook her head "But he doesn't have much control over the Hill Tribe."
"What do you think of me?" Sansa asked her
The girl hesitated for a moment "I believe you to be a woman of your word Your Grace."
Sansa gave an empty smile "You're braver than I was, at your age."
"I've heard people talking Your Grace." The girl spoke up "Some of the men at court think you're going to go to war with your brother."
Sansa shook her head slightly "Don't listen to rumours little dove."
"I have a little brother too, Your Grace… I miss him very much, family will always be family."
"You're wiser than I was at your age as well." Sansa warmed slightly "Tell me… did you know the witch at the Dreadfort."
"Maggy" The girl smiled "Yes… mother didn't like me talking to her, but I liked her riddles."
"Did your parents trust her?"
"Trust… probably not." The girl shook her head "But I think they believed her, the hill tribe certainly did. She spoke about you… did you speak with her?"
"I did." Sansa nodded "But she lost me when she told me to trust the man with no secrets. I've learned throughout my life that no such man exists… all men have their secrets."
The girl looked at her feet and then began to toy awkwardly with the broach on her deep red woolen dress "A flayed man doesn't, Your Grace."
In the warmth of the glass garden, Sansa felt a sudden chill run through her as she looked at the young girl. "Come… lets go back inside."